Agony

Chapter Two

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from Supernatural, and I'm not making any money from this fic. Also, the plot idea for this comes from a challenge posted to a particular site – so I don't own that, either

Thank you to the people who have read and reviewed the first chapter of this, as well as those who have just read it. This is quite interesting to write

Warning(s): Strong violence; horror; spoilers up to season one; some swearing

You know, there's no point in fighting me.

"Shut up," Dean muttered, wishing that he knew how to close both the ears and eyes of his mind. "Lalalala… I'm not listening to you." He knew that he was being extremely childish with that – but what else could he do?

Surrender to the demon's will? Give my body up to it forever? I think not…

You will sooner or later… the voice murmured; and, for a moment, something soft and velvety caressed Dean's cheek.

Dean instantly jerked backwards, feeling sick. He was beginning to wish that he had been paying much more attention to Sam's powers, because he could certainly use mind powers right now.

The demon was clearly reading Dean's thoughts. He could hear it laughing softly to itself, and the sound grated on his ears.

I guess this is how Dad must have felt…

Abruptly, the laughter stopped – just as if a switch had been thrown. For a long while, there was absolute silence. Then, I won't make the same mistake with you that I did with your father.

"He fought you." Dean smirked. "You weren't expecting that, were you? Must have surprised you – one of your victims fighting back and actually regaining control! Not so tough, are you?"

SILENCE!

Dean smirked again, happy that at least he seemed to be getting to the demon. "I'm gonna keep at it, ya know. You've been tangling with the wrong guys here!"

You just don't know when to keep your mouth shut, do you?

The force of the blow knocked Dean violently backwards, and he saw little bright lights. It was a struggle, but he was able to sit up again. There was blood running down the side of his mouth, and Dean wiped it away, for some reason not surprised that he could be hurt, here in his own mind.

Of course you can be. The demon had regained its calm. This may be your mind, but I've been around since the beginning of time. I was there for the crucifixion. It sounded like it was smirking – if it even had a mouth to smirk with. Compared to me? The others are just children. You may have put a tiny dent in my forces, but there's no way you'd be able to get them all. There are many more of us than you'd think.

Abruptly, Dean had the sense of the demon turning away from him. No! He knew with a deadly certainty that, once the demon left, it would go after his brother.

A lifetime of protecting Sammy freed Dean's tongue. "What about your kids, huh? You know, when I did that exorcism? I'm glad I did it. I'm glad I sent your bitch of a daughter back to hell."

Despite being prepared for the blow, it still took Dean somewhat by surprise. For a moment, he just lay in the darkness, gasping. It had felt like ice-cold talons were ripping through his soul.

Dean clenched his teeth on a whimper that threatened to escape. He refused to give the demon that satisfaction.

Better not bait it too much, though… Otherwise, I'll never be able to regain control and rescue Sammy.

Dean realised that the demon was able to read his thoughts – but it wasn't like what had just gone through his brain was private in any way. Anyway… if the bastard can read my mind, it'll know that I'm not going down without a fight.

You stay there like a good little boy, 'son', the demon said. Appreciate the break I'm giving you from the pain – it won't last long.

As much as Dean didn't want to get hurt again, he couldn't in all honesty just let the demon go after his brother. "What's the matter?" he asked, raising his eyebrows. "Am I getting to be too much for you? I'm hurt; really."

This time, it wasn't a blow. Dean couldn't stop himself from flinching as he felt something sharp rake down his chest.

Dean gasped, and would have slumped, were it not for the invisible chains holding him up. Shit, I'm gonna die… "You can't kill me," he managed to choke out. "If you do, how are you gonna possess me?" Dean did his best to avoid his mind turning to his brother – he certainly didn't want the demon to get any ideas.

As the pain continued, Dean gritted his teeth, and attempted to ride it out – but it was difficult not to make any sound.

Finally, the pain stopped, and Dean slumped, feeling something wet soak through his shirt. Blood…? He wanted to check – but he couldn't see in the dark. Besides, his hands wouldn't move.

Don't think that I won't kill you, the demon warned. When you stop being useful to me; when you push me too far, I'll destroy you. And then who will protect your brother? Well? Haven't you got anything to say?

Defeated, Dean hung his head. He'd never stay quiet – cut back on his smart-assed comments – for himself, or even anyone else, but the demon had just struck at the one thing guaranteed to get him to stop.

Because I can't let anything happen to Sam… And if I'm dead, the demon will be free to go after him.

This time, when the demon left him, Dean didn't try to stop it.

Better for the demon to trick him, hurt him with words, than to take him.

For a moment, Dean touched the necklace he wore, trying to draw some small measure of comfort from it. He hoped, prayed, that Sam would be observant enough to see that the demon wasn't his older brother.

But Dean had the awful feeling that the demon would succeed in breaking Sam's spirit…

"What do you mean, you're leaving!" Sam stared in disbelief at his father.

John Winchester gave a sigh. "Listen to me, Sam," he said. "The demon's still out there. It's gonna keep killing until it's destroyed, and that needs to happen soon."

"But why can't I come with you?"

John glanced towards the bed his oldest son was lying on. "Because you need to stay and look after Dean," the man answered. "As kids, Dean spent a lot of time looking after you; making sure you were all right. Now you have to return the favour."

He's right… But I don't want him to go… "Dad, please. Can't you at least wait until Dean regains consciousness?"

John shook his head. "I wish I could, Sammy," he said, with true regret in his voice. "But the more I stay here, the more I'm going to put you and your brother in danger. That son of a bitch nearly killed you and Dean already by using me. You're my boys – and I don't want to see you get hurt. I made that mistake once already. I won't make it again."

"Dad, the demon's after me. You must have heard what it said. It wants me, and the others like me." Even as he spoke, Sam could see that his father wasn't having any of it.

John shook his head. "I'm sorry, Sammy. My purpose is to try and draw it away from the two of you. Good luck." With that, John Winchester walked out of the door and away from his sons, again.

It was the hardest decision he had ever had to make.