THIS IS NOT A NICE STORY. Seriously, this is a really dark story with graphic depictions of violence, foul language and questionable actions by most of the characters. Dean is not a nice guy in this story and does not do nice things. There is no hurt in this story, there is PAIN, and torture and rape and it is, for the lack of a better word, FUCKED UP. Tread with extreme caution. This first chapter IS light compared to what's to come, and if you found this one too much, you better turn back now. The only good thing about this story is that it has a seemingly happy ending, as happy as it can get after everything I put them through.

Dean gritted his teeth as he lifted his foot off the gas, needing to slow down because some idiot was doing 50 on a freeway and Dean was in a hurry. He was mid-hunt when Bela called to tell him she found the scumbag that raped her all those years ago. Dean wrapped up the hunt, beat the shit out of his captive, cause he needed to blow off some steam and the guy was resisting; besides, Dean was pissed that it took him three days to find him; then he collected his bounty and headed right back home.

"Move out of the fucking way, you motherfucking-" he shouted even if there was no way the guy in the car could hear him, but he could hear the horn Dean was pressing constantly. He couldn't bypass him because of the oncoming traffic, and he needed to be home like yesterday. Four days ago, his girlfriend Bella called him to tell him she found that motherfucker and there was radio silence ever since. Shit, he should have dropped the fucking hunt and come straight home.

Dean met Bela when he came to Chicago. She was tangled with some bad people he was hunting, but she was different. He fell for her on the spot. She was sassy and funny with quick fingers and lips that would make you suck on them for days. He charmed her into helping him take down the bad guys and whisked her away from all that shit. They moved together to St. Louis, got a little beat down one bedroom house and spent two months having wild sex. And in between they learned about their crappy lives.

Dean told her about losing his mother when he was four, about their dad who dragged him and little Sammy on hunts for the next bounty or drinking himself stupid. He told her about the fight with Sammy and how he ditched them when he was seventeen and never came back. Dean always knew where he was, and he watched from the distance as his little brother graduated from Stanford and built a life for himself with Jessica. Sam never sought him out, so Dean never did either.

Bela told him about her abusive father and her indifferent mother and the car accident that took their lives. She told him about the orphanage she was in and how she learned to steal. She told him about some psycho guy named Ketch who wanted her, but she managed to escape him and come to America. Then she told Dean about him. About the scumbag who helped her, who took her in and then raped her, over and over and over. She never said exactly what he did, but from the story (and the case records he later found) Dean gathered that she was tortured and heavily beaten and forced into various sexual acts while held captive for about two months.

If he ever found him, Dean would tear him limb from limb.

Finally, fucking finally, the damn car moved out of the way and Dean zoomed past it, still shouting profanities. Excuse him for being slightly on the edge. His girlfriend found her rapist and hadn't been in touch ever since. Everyone else could just fuck off.

And yes, he was aware that he kept thinking about her being his girlfriend and about finding her rapist and how she couldn't fucking pick up her goddamn phone and just call, text, tweet, space, tumbl or whatever the fuck was trendy nowadays. Fuck!

He shouldn't have left her alone. He shouldn't have taken a goddamn hunt across the country, but it was one of Dad's old bounties, one of those that got away and he just had to get him when Rufus threw him the lead.

Fuck, what if the asshole took her? Again? No, Dean had to believe Bella was smarter than to let herself be caught. When she called and said she found him, Dean specifically told her to tag and drop. Meaning to see if there was one common area, interest or time that was specific to him and to leave. Not to follow, not to snoop, and most definitely not to engage. But she was stubborn, on par with him there, so she might not have listened. God knew Dean wouldn't.

"You've gotta be shitting me! Goddamn son of a-" Dean shouted, slamming his hand over Baby's dashboard, too pissed to even think to apologize. A detour sign was leading him away from his path just when he was in a hurry to get home. What's next? A washed away bridge? Plague of locusts? Fucking hurricane?! "Fuck this!" He shouted, stomped out of the car and removed the fucking road block, then returned to his car and drove through. Turned out it was just some minor city maintenance and the workers shouted after him, so he told them to go fuck themselves and drove past them. Fucking assholes taking half a fucking block for some stupid shit.

Finally, just as the sun began to set, he pulled up to his driveway, eyeing the house and feeling a bit relieved to see the lights on. But Bella could have left them on before she found him and they could have been on this entire time. Dean slammed the car's door shut, flinching at the sound and feeling a little bit guilty about it, but not enough to pause.

"Bel?" He called as soon as he stepped inside the house, not even bothering to take notice it was unlocked. The front door opened into a long hallway, bedroom door to the left and living room/kitchen in the back. Dean didn't bother taking his shoes off, instead he stomped his way past the open bedroom door (empty) and towards the back. "Bel, you here?"

Bella was there alright. Sitting at the small dinner table for two, a lit cigarette in one hand, extended towards the ashtray, and the other wrapped around the beer bottle that was on the table. The room was clouded with smoke and stale air, and Bela just sat there, staring at a spot on the table with a strange glint in her eyes.

"Jesus, shit. What happened?" Dean asked as he approached, one hand gentle on her shoulder, the other harshly yanking her chin up to face him.

"Dean. Good to see you home." Everything about her seemed wrong. Slow, but deliberate, and it almost seemed like she wasn't all there.

"What happened, Bela?" Dean insisted, his voice gruffer, more serious. He let her chin slip, and she refocused on her little spot on the table, picking up the cigarette and taking a big drag, burning half of the damn thing. She took a swing of her beer, one, two, three large gulps and only then exhaled the smoke out of her lungs. The crooked smile that formed on her face was so weird, so not like her and complimented with that ever present glint in her eyes, it felt so damn wrong somehow.

"I found him." She spat the pronoun as if it was something foul and didn't belong in her mouth, and Dean agreed. Anger was shimmering under the surface, held back only by his concern for her. But since she was here, safe and sound now, the anger fought harder to rise up.

"He works at a Gas'N'Sip across town, can you fucking believe that? I went to meet with Ruby the day after you left and she stopped to fill up the tank and… There he was, humming while shelving some shit, acting like… like… Like that's perfectly normal shit." Bela finally started talking and Dean chose to ignore that she met with that little bitch, instead focusing on her words. He understood what she meant, in her head the motherfucker was the big bad, the great villain, and there he was, doing something so plain and acting… Human. Not a monster she remembered.

People do tend to build them up in their heads, build up the entire traumatic event to something that it was not, most of the time. But Dean saw the reports, he saw the pictures. Bela wasn't exaggerating and that motherfucker really was a monster, scum of the earth who didn't deserve to breathe the same air as the rest of humanity.

"I told her. I mean she knew about before, but she saw my reaction to the asshole and I told her. And we…" She trailed off huffing a laugh. That didn't sound good. Dean supposed that having Bela see him so normal and regular was what prompted her to do something instead of waiting for him to come from the hunt, and Dean only hoped she didn't do anything stupid.

"What did you do?" His voice was deep, serious and terrifying to anyone who didn't know him. If she attacked the guy especially at the gas station and she was caught on camera, that could be bad. But she was smarter than that. He hoped she didn't kill the asshole, not because he felt sorry for him or anything but because that would haunt her and if she was ever caught… Besides, Dean really wanted some private time with the guy.

"We followed him. Learned where he lived. Picked up some of his habits."

"How long?"

"A day."

"One day?! Are you out of your mind? That's not enough time to…"

"We took him."

Dean froze, eyes going wide as he tried to process what Bele just said. MIllions of scenarios ran through his mind, including those that showed him hurting her in the process, or those with her seen performing a kidnapping, and shit, shit, shit! Why didn't she wait for Dean to come back? Well, actually, Dean knew why. It was cause of Ruby. That dumb bitch was always meddling in their relationship and dragging Bela, putting ideas in her head that have no business being there.

"You… You what? What did you… What did you do with him?" He finally managed, heart pounding a mile a minute. He needed to know how and where and when they took him, so that he could make sure the kidnapping won't be traced back to her, but right now - he needed to know where the sonofabitch was.

"He's downstairs." She replied plainly.

What Bela meant was their basement. When they bought the place, the one bedroom, barely-enough-for-one-person house, they found that it had a large basement area, about the same size as the house itself. Whoever built it probably wanted to make a nuclear bunker or something, cause the place had unfinished plumbing, open waste pipes, bare wires, complex ventilation system, heating and boiler systems, even some junk like old radio receivers and canned food. It could be accessed from the kitchen through some trap door and best of all? It wasn't in the house plans. The woman they bought it from had no idea it was there, and Dean found it was a perfect place to store some of his weapons and… a few other things.

"Fuck. Shit Bela, what did you do?" Dean breathed out and turned away, running his hand through his hair in frustration. He wanted to go down there immediately, but he had no idea what he would find, and he needed to know more.

"He lives alone. We took him on his way to work in the early hours, clubbed him on the head and dragged him into an alley. Packed him up in her car and drove him here, then took him down and locked him up. He has been down there ever since." Her voice was all wrong, too mechanical, emotionless, empty, much like her eyes. There was something else, something more she wasn't telling him.

"When?"

"When what?" Bela finally turned to look at Dean, confused, but indifferent about the question.

"When was this?"

"Friday."

Flatline. Dean's mind went blank. He left on Wednesday. So they must have found him Thursday. And they took him Friday. Today was Friday. A whole week. They had the guy for the whole week. What… What have they done to him? What have they done for the past week with him?

Bela was fine. She was doing as okay as she could, all things considered. Dean needed to get down there. He needed to see. He needed to know. He needed to do damage control.

And he fucking needed to punch the motherfucker through a wall if he was still breathing.

I guess you pretty much figured out who he is and what's the punchline of the story if you read the tags. I forgot to add in the 'before' notes, next to the PAIN, there will be a lot of GUILT and… Well, like I said, it's gonna be fucked up. Hope You stick around.