First of all, my apologies to all who reveiwed the last few chapters. My email is not working correctly...again...so I am unable to respond to each comment personally. So, I would just like to thank each and every one of you for your wonderful comments. I know, I made some of you cry and upset some quite a bit. I can't promise it's going to get better right away. There are some chapters to come that cover Sam's time in hell and it ain't pretty. If you read the summary you know what's coming. Okay, so here is the next chapter and my plan is to post another later, after the pizza party for all the junior bowlers. You may need tissues for this chapter.

Cindy.

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Dean sat on the edge of his bed, elbows on his knees, hands clasped together. His chin rested on his knuckles as he stared tiredly at the still form of his brother on the other bed. Dean was dressed in his sleep clothes, Bobby having made him shower and change out of his bloody clothes once they had Sam's body situated. Bobby stood at the foot of Sam's bed, his gaze moving sadly from one brother to the other. Dean sensed the older hunter's eyes on him as he looked up with red rimmed eyes and blinked tiredly.

"Why don't you go to your room and get some sleep Bobby. I'm gonna get Sammy cleaned up…can't look at him like that anymore," the exhausted brother said, his gaze moving back to Sam's face.

"I can help you with that Dean, if you want me to," Bobby replied softly, nervous to leave his friend alone.

"Nah…Sam'll be embarrassed enough when he finds out I took his clothes off…it'll about ki…uh…he'll be mortified if he knows you helped," Dean answered with a humorless chuckle.

"You sure kid? I don't really think you should be alone," Bobby said, concern heavy in his tone.

Dean smiled sadly up at him and shook his head. "I'll be fine Bobby. Really…I'm not gonna do anything stupid if that's what you're worried about. Sam's got the corner on stupidity right now."

"Yeah…the friggin' little idjit! Well…if you're sure you'll be okay then I think I will turn in for a bit," the older hunter said, still wary of leaving Dean alone.

Dean slowly stood and approached his friend, the only family he had left. He stuck his hand out, expecting Bobby to offer his in return. "Bobby…thank you. Sam was right to call you. I don't know what I'd do if you weren't here."

Bobby swallowed the lump in his throat and took Dean's hand. He shook his head as he began to speak. "Ahhh geez…come here ya friggin' idiot…" he said as he pulled Dean into his strong arms.

Dean tensed for a moment, but then he relaxed into Bobby's embrace as sobs began to wrack him. Bobby patted his back and just let the young hunter get it all out. His heart broke as he listened to the gut wrenching sobs coming from his adopted son, but he didn't say a word as he waited for Dean to calm. After a few moments, Dean's cries tapered off and he pulled away from Bobby.

"I don't know wh-what to do Bobby. What do I do with his body? What do I do with myself for four months? What do I do when he comes back…I mean…if he comes back," Dean questioned, a lost look in his sorrowful eyes.

"Let's just take it one day at a time okay, Dean? First, get him cleaned up and changed then, get some sleep. We'll hopefully find out what the hell is going on tomorrow. After that, I think we should take him to my place. You can stay with me and when you feel up to it, maybe we can take on a few hunts," Bobby answered.

"I don't want to impose on you Bobby. I…" Dean started, but was cut off by Bobby's gruff voice.

"You ain't imposing and you ain't going off on your own. I ain't gonna lose track of you like I did Sam. I nearly killed myself worrying about the kid. I can't do it again Dean. We're sticking together. You ain't the only one who's lost him Dean. You ain't the only one who needs to have someone around," Bobby said, his eyes conveying how serious he was.

"I'm sorry Bobby…you're right. You've been like a father to us. Of course you're grieving too. I'll…I'll stay…" Dean replied sheepishly.

"Good. Glad that's settled. Now, I'm gonna go get some shut eye. You better do the same," Bobby instructed as he moved to the side of Sam's bed.

Dean watched as the older man gazed down at Sam's lax, bloodied face. He smiled warmly when Bobby reached down and gently brushed messy hair away from Sam's closed eyes. Bobby's fingers remained on Sam's face for a moment before he pulled away and glanced up at Dean. Dean nodded his head slightly when he saw the tears that had welled in Bobby's eyes then he lowered his own so as not to cause the older hunter any embarrassment. He listened to Bobby's retreating footsteps and glanced up as the motel room door quietly shut behind his friend.

Dean moved to the table near the window and retrieved the icebucket then headed to the bathroom where he filled the bucket with warm water. He grabbed the washcloths from the rack and then returned to Sam's bedside, setting the water and cloths on the nightstand. He sat on the edge of Sam's bed and absently rubbed his fingers up and down Sam's cold arm. His eyes fell to the shredded, bloody clothes and he swallowed against the bile that suddenly rose in his throat. He closed his eyes as visions of the attack on his brother assailed him. Sam's agonized screams echoed through his mind as bloody scenes played out in his memory. Dean brushed a shaky hand through his hair and opened his eyes to once again look upon his brother.

Dean picked up a washcloth and wet it in the icebucket. He proceeded to gently wash the dried blood from Sam's face and neck, his gaze lingering on the red marks where the slashes used to be. He was thankful to Castiel for healing the wounds although the picture of them would forever be etched in his memory. Once Dean had finished cleaning all exposed skin he slowly made his way to the bathroom to rinse the washcloth then he reached for his duffel bag. He dug through the bag and retrieved the first aid kit. He opened the kit and pulled out a pair of surgical scissors then returned to sit once more next to Sam. He softly patted Sam's arm before beginning to carefully cut away the ruined clothes from his body.

"Sorry Sammy…" he whispered.

Once Sam was in only his boxers, Dean started the arduous task of cleaning the blood that covered his body. An hour later Sam was clean and Dean was rummaging through the younger man's duffel bag. He pulled out a clean pair of boxers, jeans and Sam's favorite tee shirt and button down. Dean carefully dressed his brother then sat back on his bed in exhaustion. He scrubbed his hand over his face then rose and shuffled to the bathroom. He stripped out of his sleep clothes and stepped into the shower, turning the water on and waiting for it to turn hot.

Dean stood under the spray and allowed it to ease the knots from his tense muscles. When the water began to cool, he turned the water off and stepped from the tub. He dried and redressed, brushed his teeth then moved back to the room and dropped onto his bed, his gaze once again on Sam's lax face. Dean was beyond tired, his whole body trembling with fatigue. He moved over to Sam's bed and took his brother's cool hand into his own. His eyes filled as he yearned for Sam to open his eyes, craved the sound of his baby brother's voice.

"Sammy…I hope you know what you're doing. Stay strong and come back to me little brother," Dean whispered as he set Sam's hand back down.

Dean climbed into his bed and pulled the covers up over his body. He reached over and turned the light off. He closed his eyes and slowly drifted off into a less than restful slumber.

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There was nothing but pain here. Pain and suffering and anguish. Anguish so thick in the air that Sam could hardly breathe. The hooks that pierced his body felt like liquid fire and he would scream out in agony when the chains attached to the hooks would pull tight. Blisters covered Sam's skin, the intense heat too much for the sensitive tissue. Sam wondered how that was possible when he wasn't even in his body, but then again he realized, he didn't really need his body to be tortured, he was in hell after all.

"That's right Sam. You are in my domain now and for the next forty years, you belong to me," a hate filled voice rasped from Sam's right.

Sam jerked his head around, realizing he was no longer on the chains and hooks, but stretched out tight over a wooden table, his arms high above his head, his body completely naked. He swallowed at the sinister sneer of the demon who stared down at him, the 'man' running his thumb down the razor sharp blade of the fillet knife he held in his hand. Sam's eyes were riveted to the gleaming blade as it moved toward him. An evil chuckle brought Sam's gaze to the face of the demon.

"Alastair," Sam whispered fearfully.

Alastair laughed as the knife sliced the flesh from Sam's body, the young hunter's screams echoing through the blackness that surrounded him, mixing with the tortured screams of the other unfortunate souls who shared his fate.

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Okay, I didn't get into Sam's torture too much yet, but it is coming so be prepared. Like I said in the last chapter, this isn't meant to be a bloodfest so I don't get all that graphic. Please let me know what you think and I will try to respond to your comments, email permitting.

Cindy.