Cold. Ice cold. Sam was so hot he wanted to die. He was shivering. He was sweating. It was too hot. He was so freaking cold.

He turned his head to the left, and there was a shadow in the dark, someone approaching. Pulling on his restrains, Sam struggled. The shadow came closer, but before Sam could get a good look at its face it turned it's back. There was a familiar voice in the air.

"Calm it, Sammy."

Sam breathed in a sigh of relief – sucking in the freezing air that burned the lungs – and blew it out softly. He could see his breath, even though it was pitch black. How did that work? Was he tripping out? "Oh my god, Dean. You scared" –

"Not quite."

He hesitated. "H-How did you get past Jane? She's gonna kill you if she finds you."

Dean laughed, walking foreword slowly. Sam couldn't really see his face because it was too hidden by shadows. Only the general shape of it. But it was obviously Dean. "Jane… She's the last of your worries, Sammy."

Sam tried to swallow the weird lump forming in his throat. That sounded almost like… a threat. Dude… you're just paranoid. It's only Dean.

"Dean, stop messing around." Sam's voice was a little bit shakier than he intended. "We gotta get out of here. Come on and get me off this thing."

There was a pause. A really long one. Sam shifted uncomfortably, wondering when his restraints got so tight.

"Dean?"

"Why the hell would I want to do that?"

The lump in his throat grew, and suddenly it was hard to breathe. "W-What? Dude you're a friggen j-jerk. This isn't funny. Get me off this thing."

There was another pause. This one was shorter than the last, but to Sam it felt a whole lot longer. "Jerk? What does that make you then, a bitch?"

That should have been a comforting remark… but it wasn't. Dean sounded wrong. Sam couldn't pinpoint how it sounded wrong, but it was. All wrong.

"Well then…"Dean moved into the light, and leaned really close to Sam's ear. The look on his face was unnatural; hollow, pale and washed out, and it made Sam's breath catch in his chest. "Say your prayers, bitch. This is going to be a long ride."

Sam was about to say something, but when he saw what was in Dean's hand his lungs suddenly didn't have any air. And when the pain came, there wasn't even enough to scream.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Jane pulled the needle from Sam's arm, watching his face for a second for any signs that the injection had failed. His face was calm and peaceful looking, although Jane knew what was going on just under the surface. There were no signs of life or reaction at all, other than the barely-there movement of Sam's sedated breathing. She threw the vial in the garbage, barely containing a smile. Sam thought he was dead. He thought he was in hell. This was perfect.

Heels creating a tempo on the cold stone floors, Jane gave Sam another smirk as she exited the room and continued down the hall. The third door down the hall was locked, and she raised her hand – palm foreword – to the door. The lock clicked, and the door swung open with a squeak. She let herself inside, plopping her host's body down in a comfortable chair in front of a large computer system.

"All right Sammy," Jane muttered under her breath, going through a list of folders in her computer system. "Where are you hiding?"

A long list of files scanned in front of her eyes, and she began moving through them in search for the one that she needed. It had been hard to get this footage on the computer, but there were humans who she had managed to… obtain… the required equipment from. And the information. And the expertise. If humans hadn't been so whiny, week and pathetic, they could almost be useful to an extent.

The footage, Jane remembered with a smirk, were memories. Well… most of them were. They were clips from movies, memories from human experiments and valuable clips that she had taken from her own head. They had all been altered, fabricated and twisted into an almost "alternate reality video-game" sort of mode, so that she could inject anyone she wanted into the horror-show. That person would have a long list of memories to go through all played like a synced up playlist based on their own personality type and emotional weaknesses. It was a masterpiece, and one that Jane took all the credit for. Who else could say that they had developed a supernatural demonic memory-transfer computer program? Honestly… it was a beauty.

First it started off like a 3-D movie experience, watching things from the outside. That would mean that Sam was probably seeing one of Jane's memories right now as an outsider. But soon – within a few seconds, actually - the program would begin to seep into his brain like a computer virus (which in a way, it was) and the memories would start mingling with his imagination. Over time, Sam's brain would kick into overdrive and begin running the program itself, fabricating it's own images based on what he had seen. Whatever she put in his head… that was what he saw. But once he had seen enough, his brain would just keep fabricating similar images until the program wasn't even doing the work anymore. It was brilliant.

She scanned down the list until she found the file that had been selected by the machine – titled "hellday1" – and opened it. This was the file that Sam's brain had randomly launched onto, and lucky for her it wasn't a very nice one. Dean was in it too. It was, as the title suggested, the memory of her first day in hell. Heck, she had a thousand more just like it in the playlist. Sam had all the time in the world to discover them, too.

"What's your precious little brother going to think of you now, Dean?" Jane locked the computer and pushed away from it with a smirk. "Now that Sam knows who you really are?"