Ta-da! Chapter 2. Enjoy!

Sam was at Bobby's, on the couch alone. A cold beer laid untouched on the coffee table in front of him, a sandwich next to it. Sam knew Bobby left it there on purpose, for him to eat. Sam didn't feel like eating though, Sam didn't want to do anything besides get his brother back.
Sam's fists clenched, knuckles turning white, tears falling down his cheeks as sobs threatened to escape. It was his fault. Everything. Only if he was more careful, if he didn't get stabbed that day, if he was able to kill Lilith, stop her, work harder and find a way to save his brother. No, Dean doesn't deserve hell or torture. If anyone did, it's Sam. And now Sam knew what to do. He will free Dean, no matter what.
Sam stood abruptly, walking out into the night. He grabbed the keys and entered the impala, only using a second to remind himself how Dean never would have let him drive. Sam smiled, if Dean saw him drive his baby in the state Sam was in now, getting tears in the sweet leather- he would be a dead man.
Sam smiled softly, revving up the engine and taking off down the road. The radio was shut off, because the classical music would only remind Sam more of his brother. The car in itself held too many memories. The little toy soldiers stuck in the car, the carving of the DW and the SW in the back seat. Even the little stain of soda in the passenger side from where Sam spilled his drink, then hid it successfully for four days until Dean (sadly) discovered it and threw a fit. Remembering back, Sam's cheek still hurts from the punch. Sam wouldn't trade that for anything else- mainly because he punched back before they settled whose true fault it was: Deans bad driving causing the drink to spill, or Sam's clumsiness. Sam won, because Dean always picked scissors.
Sam hadn't even noticed the tears streaming down his cheeks until one fell into his hand. He knew he was crying, but not this much beforehand. He wanted his big brother back. Why can't the goddamn fate just keep them happy? At least one alive? Did the world really hate them this much to make them suffer?!
Sam pulled the impala to the side of the road, walking out and to the middle of the intersection- or crossroad. He dug a whole and put the box inside, before waiting. Not long after a demon appeared, the demon smirked, "Sam Winchester. Nice seeing you here. Come to save your brother?"
Sam quickly wiped the tears from his eyes, "Give me back my brother. His soul for mine."
The demon laughed, still staying a safe distance away from the youngest brother, "No can do. We have everything where we want it. Dean in hell, and you here. You got no deal Sammy."
Sam lunged forward, taking the demon by the throat, "Don't you dare ever call me that."
The demon chuckled, smiling, "And what are you giving to do- ugh" the demon knife stuck the monster in the stomach, effectively killing him on the spot.
The demons want Dean in hell, and Sam alive? But why? Why him, why his brother, why them? What have they ever done to deserve this?
Sam turned back to impala, one longing look at what could have been Deans rescue, before he started his drive back to Bobby's. He would save his brother, though. He knows that. He will do anything to save his brother.
"Anything is a strong word, you know."
Sam spun, steering the impala off the road before he took control and brought it back up. If Dean saw that...
Sam eyed the thing next to him, gun pointed at its head, "What the hell are you?"
The demon rolled her eyes, "Don't recognize me? I don't blame you. I'm Ruby. You know, the demon who saved your but and wants to help you."
Sam straightened, teeth clenched. How can he be sure? The last 'Ruby' ended up being Lilith and got Dean killed.
"Don't worry Sam. I'm me. Now, meet me at this address," she put a slip of paper in the Winchesters shirt pocket, "and we can work out how to get your lively big brother back."
Sam's eyes widened, he opened his mouth to reply, but the damned demon was gone. Sam knew he shouldn't go, Dean wouldn't have allowed it. -but Dean isn't here.- if it could work, if he could get hi brother back. He'll do it.
He took out the paper, seeing the address for an old motel. Sorry Bobby, guess he's not coming home just yet.


Dean followed his brother into one of the many torture chambers hell has. He was curious as to why his brother has brought him here. Sammy would never have wanted to hurt people, much less would he willingly torture someone.
Sam turned, smiling at his 'brother', "But Dean, these aren't people. They're monsters who killed and murdered and raped. This is just their punishment."
Still, it's not like Sammy. Sammy would be the one hugging them saying it's OK or trying to redeem them. Never punish them. No, punishment reminds them too much of John.
"It's fine, Dean. They deserve this. You and I both know it," Sam handed Dean a blade and walked him up to a struggling man begging for his life, "Do it Dean. Punish him."
Dean nodded, all thoughts leaving fleeing from his brain. Dean brought the knife above his head before he rammed it into the gut of the man. Sam smirked, and the earth trembled. The Heavens and Hell all felt the blow that was delivered, and a chuckling could be heard. Dean didn't wander what that was all about, he ignored it all. He was just curious as to why he was enjoying the screams of pain and the blood dripping from his hands.
No, he's not torturing a monster. He is the monster.
No Dean. You are no monster.
Dean looked up. Someone spoke to him...
Yes, that's me. Please, call me Lucifer. the voice was soft and sweet. Nothing how Dean would have expected the devil to sound.
I'm no devil. I'm a fallen angel who was thrown from my home.
Dean chuckled lightly, he sounds more like Sammy. Sammy was always the good one, the angel in the family. Kicked out by dad.
Well, yes. That's the point. Sammy is like me, you like Michael. But you know, I'm bored of playing by the rules. I want to mix it up a bit. How about you?
Yeah. Dean has been tired of 'rules'
Exactly! How about you come to the cage for some hot chocolate. We can talk and gossip. I've just been dying to complain about my family! An you know what? I can even get you some pie.
Dean nodded... Wait. No, Dean snapped up from what he was doing, all rational thoughts re-entering his mind. How could he have let his guard down like that?! Dean mentally slapped himself, he let the torturing get to him! Dammit! Dean backed away from his victim, dropping the knife. No way in hell would he have pie or hot chocolate or any of that crap with the fucking devil! And that... That's not his brother. His brother would never-!
"Dean, Dean, this is me. I'm Sammy, Dean!" Not-Sam walked up to Desn, grabbing his face and looking him in the eyes, "This is me, Dean! You see this? This is the face of your brother. Look me in the eyes, am I lying?"
Dean paused, before scowling at this demon, "Damn straight your lying," Dean pushed back the Not-Sam, diving for the knife he was using for torturing and shoving it into Not-Sam's heart, "See, Sammy would have been able to block that easily."
Dean then sprinted away. There must be some way out of hell. There has to be.
What a shame. I actually liked that demon. But he was a bad Sam, wasn't he? Never trust a demon for acting.
Dean shook his head, trying to get rid of the voice.
You can't get rid of me Dean! I'm in your head! Not literally, of course. That would be gross.
"Get the fuck out of my head!" Dean screamed, still running. Though, he should have known running wouldn't get him anywhere. He's in hell, surrounded by demons. The demons also know he's there, and will stop him- most unmercilessly, might he add. A swift blow to the head knocked him back. Then there was kicking, scratching, and different forms of stabbing. Dean yelled out, delivering punches of his own. All in vain, however, because the next thing he knew he was tied up yet again, his 'brother' glaring down at him.
"You should have listened to me Dean. Now, though. Now we can never be a family," the Not-Sam took out a knife, "I need to teach you to listen to me, Dean."
Dean tried to break free, "I know you aren't Sammy, you bitch!"
Not-Sam smiled, but it wasn't Sam's smile. It was evil, filled with malicious intent and sickening sweet, "No, Dean. I am your brother. Just the side he keeps buried."
Not-Sam approached, twirling the knife in his fingers, Azazel behind him smirking, "Well Dean. How about we teach you a thing or two about torturing, no? Step one, always start nicer, with blows that'll keep the person alive till the end."
Not-Sam took the knife and took it to the side of Dean's mouth, opening his cheek in a way for when Dean screamed out it pain, the flesh only opened more. Thus it continued, the torture, the pain. But this time, it was delivered by the demon dressed as his brother.
It's called mental torture, Dean. Just as effective as physical torture. I should know, I tried both out.
Dean scowled.
I can help you though. Stop all this and reunite you with your brother. All you have to do is say yes. It's a simple word, so easy even you could say it.
Never.
Fine then. Have fun being tortured by your brother. Tell me when you want the pain to stop. Say 'yes' when you want to see your brother again. Hug him and all that sentimental crap.
Deans eyes shut tight, braving himself for all the torture that laid ahead. He did want it to stop though. He wanted it to stop so bad, and all you have to do is say yes.

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