Chapter Nine

"What the hell, Cas?! I said that's not the guy anymore!" Dean looked up from Dr. Lecter's lifeless body and stared angrily at Castiel. The angel's blue eyes were apologetic, so Dean's gaze softened slightly.

"I didn't know," Cas explained. "When I last saw you, you were tied up by the man and your brother was injured in the corner of the room. So when I appeared here, I saw a similar situation and assumed that the foreign man was still the enemy. I'm sorry, Dean." Cas hung his head and averted his gaze.

"This just keeps getting better and better," Crowley laughed. Dean watched as Cas whipped his head around, finally recognizing the demon in the room. He must not have checked the house before appearing here, Dean thought, he just came as soon as he could because I asked for help. Castiel's eyes widened as he began to understand the entire scenario. Dean saw a flash of reflected light as the silver angel blade slipped out from the trench coat sleeve.

"No, allow me," Crowley stated when he saw the weapon. Now with Cas aware of his presence, it would be a lot more difficult to banish him or push him against the wall. He would be ready for the attack, unlike when they were at Dr. Lecter's where he was able to use the element of surprise. "This whole situation is a little too close for comfort. Don't worry about the deal, however, because I can assure you that I will finish later." Crowley snapped his fingers and vanished from the room. The pressure holding Dean the wall released him and he was dropped onto his feet. Dean felt like he could finally breathe again. Unlike Dr. Lecter, he realized.

"Cas," Dean called out and beckoned to the psychiatrist. I want him dead, but not yet. Still gotta cancel that damn deal. Sure, Crowley is gone now, but he promised he would return to take Sammy back, and the one thing I know about Crowley is that he never breaks his deals. Castiel got the hint and bent down over the man. He pressed the palm of his hand onto Dr. Lecter's head and the man was filled with life once again. He inhaled a deep, uncertain breath as his dark brown eyes flickered around the room. The man looked terrified for a moment, but upon realizing that it was only Dean and Cas, went back to an emotionless expression and stood up.

"Mhmm," a low moan sounded from the room and realization sparked in Dean.

"Sam!" he exclaimed. His brother was still hunched in the corner of the room. He was quite pale from loss of blood, but the wound wasn't spilling out too much anymore. "Cas, come fix Sammy!" Dean called out. Within milliseconds, Castiel was kneeling next to Sam. He placed his hand on him and the large gash had disappeared. The color returned to Sam's face and his energy was back. He looked up at Cas and yanked against the chains on his wrists. The angel sighed and easily pulled the metal apart. Dean smiled. Even though it wasn't nearly over, everything seemed to be okay for these few moments. He had his little brother and his best friend right beside him and they were safe, at least for now. Only when Castiel turned to face the opposite side of the room was Dean reminded that they weren't alone.

Dr. Lecter was staring, which would be considered rude by his standards. Dean looked up into his eyes and was struck with a familiar pain. I wonder how far gone he was, Dean thought. He sure wasn't on his way to heaven, I know that much. How long did it feel like to him? If four months in Hell felt like forty years for me, how long is about ten minutes?

oOo

Hannibal was dead. He was sure of that. At first he thought that he was just rendered unconscious by the angel, but then he found himself standing alone in a dark, musky cave. His heart seemed to be pounding out of his chest, but he tried to stay calm. He didn't dare to move around. Before long, he was approached by a man slightly taller than him with messy blond hair and pale eyes. His skin looked like it was ripping apart.

"Welcome to Hell, Hannibal Lecter," the man said. "I decided to remain in my vessel, my true form would be too overbearing and my voice would be too piercing for you to understand."

Hannibal didn't reply. It was rather rude of him, but he didn't think that it really mattered anymore.

"Hm. Well allow me to introduce myself," the man held out a hand. "I'm Lucifer, a good friend of the Winchesters." He stated with a laugh.

Hannibal swallowed, reluctant to shake hands with the Devil. He took a few breaths to calm his nerves, desperately trying to regain control of his emotions. He reached out a shaky arm and quickly met Lucifer's hand before pulling away again. Lucifer just laughed at his cowardice.

"I think you know why you're here. The problem is that you were almost sent to Purgatory since you seem to be in the beginning stages of your transformation," Lucifer said as he began to slowly walk around Hannibal.

Hannibal furrowed his brow. Transformation? He tried to think of a logical reason on why he would be transforming into something, but nothing came to mind. He shrugged it off. It didn't make a difference; he was in Hell now and would forever spend eternity here.

"Now we just have to decide what to do with you," Lucifer mentioned as he stepped closer to Hannibal. He was now a mere foot and a half away. "We could keep you down in this cellar and send in cruel imposters of everyone you care about like we did with Bobby Singer, but something tells me that you don't care about many people. We could make you wait in line forever, but you seem like a patient man so it wouldn't be that miserable for you. We could go Dean's route and string you up on meat hooks, torturing you endlessly. Or we could recreate Sam's punishment and set you on fire for all of eternity. Hmm, so many options."

So this is it, Hannibal thought. This is how it's going to be forever, constant suffering and torment. Hannibal had never thought that there was something more after someone died. He considered death to be a release, and he took comfort in knowing that. Had he known what would be waiting for him after death, he might have chosen a different lifestyle. Maybe. He still didn't quite understand. He always thought he was doing a beautiful thing, ridding the world of all the wicked. If anyone, it should be the Devil who understands his concepts.

"You know what?" Lucifer asked. Hannibal looked up into his eyes. "I'll let you pick. Would you like to be set on fire or tortured in different ways while hanging on meat hooks?" He laughed.

Hannibal averted his gaze from the man. At least he got to choose how he wanted to suffer for all of eternity. Maybe I will get used to the constant burning sensation after a few hundred years, Hannibal considered. It is better than being ripped apart by a different method of abuse every day. I cannot adapt if the pain is not constant. Hannibal cleared his throat. "I would prefer to be on fire," he said.

"Good choice," Lucifer laughed. "So let's go get you some meat hooks." The man grinned at Hannibal and vanished.

Hannibal should've known that he would be betrayed. I mean, this was the Devil. Of course he was going to pick whatever would be more miserable for Hannibal. Everything was happening too fast, Hannibal's mind wasn't as focused as it usually was, and he wasn't thinking everything through.

Just as quickly as Lucifer had disappeared, he was back with six large metal hooks. "I'll put the hooks in you now, then I'll take you to the big web of chains and string you up," Lucifer explained, stepping closer.

Hannibal backed away slightly, but he knew that there was nowhere to go. Still, it wouldn't stop him from trying. He wasn't one who gave up control easily. However, in the time that it took for Hannibal to blink, Lucifer was already directly in front of him with a heavy hand on his shoulder. Hannibal squirmed, but the man was inhumanly strong so Hannibal couldn't escape his grasp.

"Hm," Lucifer looked down at Hannibal. He was only an inch or two taller, but his ego towered over the mortal. "I thought you would cooperate, but I guess I was wrong. Let's strap you down then," he said.

Hannibal felt a rush of air and he instantly found himself in a new setting. It was still dark, he figured all of Hell would be, but he was tied down to a slightly angled table. He had strong leather bonds holding down his waist, ankles, and the part of his arm right below the elbow. He was restricted from all movement. Lucifer loomed over him, holding a thick hook to Hannibal's right shoulder.

"Don't worry, Hannibal Lecter," he said, beginning to dig the sharp tip into the flesh. "I mean, it's going to hurt a lot but… well… yeah there's no upside to this. It's just going to hurt." He smiled and forced the hook through Hannibal's body.

Hannibal was immediately filled with an excruciating, burning pain. He felt the metal slide deeper into his shoulder, tearing through flesh and muscle. He sensed a scream bubbling up within his throat, but he managed to stifle it. His warm blood seeped through his expensive suit. His breathing was reduced to short, painful gasps as Lucifer strode to the other side and shoved another hook into his left ribcage. Hannibal squeezed his eyes shut, hoping it would be over soon.

The third hook tore through Hannibal's lower calf, and another went through the opposite thigh. The final two ripped their way through each of his wrists.

"There we go," Lucifer stated happily. "All done. Now we just gotta get you hanging. I figure since it's your first day, you've been through a lot. We'll start your daily tortures tomorrow."

Hannibal found that he couldn't utter a word if he tried. All that came out was a low whimper. Every movement he made caused a muscle to grind up against one of the hooks. Lucifer stepped over to him and placed his hand over the shoulder that wasn't pierced. Almost instantly, Hannibal was filled with a rough heat as the hooks were being pulled at. He opened his eyes to find that he was now outdoors, but there was no ground as far as he could see. The sky was a dark, swampy green. Each hook inserted in him was attached to a different chain in the air. His own weight pulled down on the hooks, causing his skin to stretch out and tear. He was gasping, desperate for air. Lucifer was nowhere in sight. Hannibal was alone.

He didn't even know when his next torture was going to take place. Yes, he was told that it would be tomorrow, but there was no sun here. Nothing to judge the time of day by. Hannibal felt completely powerless. He craved control; he needed to be able to have dominance over at least one factor of his new world. So he began to count. If he could at least grasp the concept of time here, he would feel some sense of stability. Hannibal was left to count for sixteen hours before a bright light caused his soul to collide with his physical body once again.

Hannibal squinted against the new light of the room. Once his eyes adjusted, he found that they were still in Will Graham's living room. Dean and Cas were looking down at him. Hating the feeling of being underneath them, he stood up abruptly and looked around. Will was still bloody and tied to the table. Sam was still injured in the corner. However, Crowley seemed to be gone. How much time had passed? He thought. He was no longer in pain, there were no hooks protruding from his body and there was not a single cut. Hannibal watched in silence as Dean and Cas mumbled to each other and walked over to Sam. It wasn't even surprising anymore to see the angel heal and release Sam. Hannibal instead found that he respected the angel. Cas had saved him from an eternity of damnation.

The angel turned away from Sam to look at Hannibal. Dean then did the same. Hannibal looked silently back at Dean and saw his own agony reflected in the younger man's eyes. Hannibal finally understood some of the pain he saw before that was hidden behind Dean's tough exterior. Hannibal felt it too.