Next chapter folks. I can't believe the response I've had. It's amazing. Thank you all so much!! WARNING: This chapter contains very disturbing content. Non-graphic discription of non-con so be prepared. Okay, you will also need tissues. I'm thinking lots of tissues.

Cindy.

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Two Months Later

"Sammy, Sammy, Sammy…why do you continue to hold on for a world that doesn't give a rat's ass about the sacrifices you've made for it?" Alastair queried cruelly as he pressed a red hot poker into the sensitive flesh beneath Sam's left eye.

"G-go to hell…" Sam panted through clenched teeth, the stench of burning flesh making his stomach turn.

"Already there Sammy. You can't hold out so why not give in now and save yourself a shitload of pain?" the demon hissed, moving the glowing piece of metal down Sam's cheek, the flesh sizzling as it burned, before moving it over his gasping lips.

"Unnnn…when are y-you gonna learn…'m not breaking. You've sliced and diced me…cooked me…raped me. 'm not breaking…" Sam gasped as the poker was suddenly thrust into his mouth.

The ever heated poker pushed through the back of Sam's throat, leaving the writhing man unable to speak. A rough hand grabbed his hair and yanked upward viciously as the demon leaned toward the prone figure, his vile lips brushing over Sam's ear.

"Are you holding on for Dean? For a brother who is happy you are dead? A brother who no longer loves you? Dean's happy now Sam. He's free of your worthless ass. He burned your mangled body not more than an hour after you died Sammy boy. What does that tell you? He never loved you…he only pretended," Alastair whispered, chuckling when he saw a lone tear trickle down Sam's cheek.

Alastair continued to press on the poker until the tip penetrated the back of Sam's neck and hit the wooden table beneath him. Sam gasped and sputtered as he arched off the table, his fingertips digging deeply into the table until the nails were ripped free from their nailbeds. Alastair laughed maniacally as he twisted the poker and pulled it back before thrusting it once again through the back of Sam's throat. Sam tried to scream but blood flooded his windpipe, closing off any air that would allow his lungs to fill. Apparently, the poker hadn't done a very good job of cauterizing the blood vessels as it tore through him, Sam thought absently as he concentrated on trying to breathe. Suddenly, he stopped trying. He was already dead afterall and was just going to wake up again in a few moments to some new torture, or old one if the fancy struck his tormentor.

Sam eased his eyes closed as he waited for the darkness to come, preparing himself for when he would awaken and the pain would start again. He shuddered when he thought of what Alastair would do. The rapes were the worst by far. Sam could endure the pain of skin being peeled away, fingers and toes being broken, and every other torture that Alastair inflicted on him, but the rapes were different. Yes, they were painful, but they were also demeaning and Sam could not shake how violated and filthy they left him feeling. They were the one form of torture that he never forgot, could never push from his mind. Alastair was brutal in his attacks and Sam would find himself praying that the demon would give his subordinates the pleasure because as bad as it was when that did happen, it wasn't even close to the brutality that Alastair employed.

The pain died away as Sam gave in to the darkness that called, but it started again immediately as his eyes flew open and he realized he was no longer strapped to the wooden table. He glanced up the length of his raised arms and swallowed as he took in the hooks that pierced each wrist. The hooks were attached to chains suspended from the rock ceiling and Sam dangled a few inches from the stone floor beneath him. Blood coated his arms and dripped to the floor as it seeped from the wounds in his wrists and he swallowed against the bile that rose in his throat. He knew what was coming when he was suspended like this. It had happened so many times before.

A rough hand on the small of his back had Sam jerking his head around in a panic. Alastair stood behind him, slightly to his left. The demon was completely naked and had a lecherous sneer on his cruel face. His hand moved around Sam's trembling body until it rested on his quivering stomach and the demon leaned in until his lips ghosted over Sam's ear.

"He sees everything I do to you Sammy. I wonder what he thinks about you now? I wonder how disgusted he is by you when he sees how much you like it. When you go back, how will he look at you? Will he even be able to look at you?" the demon whispered as his tongue slipped into Sam's ear.

Sam shuddered in revulsion as the demon's hands trailed over his body. He concentrated on the agony in his wrists and arms, hoping to block out what was to come. This wasn't the first time Alastair told him that Dean could see the torture's he endured. He could only pray the demon was lying, but knew that this was probably one time he spoke the truth. Tears spilled down his face as he thought of what his brother must think of him. How he must think Sam was so weak to allow something so vile to happen to him, regardless of the situation. Sam felt weak. He felt like he should be able to prevent this. How, he wasn't sure, he just knew that no matter what, he should be able to stop this.

"Dean…I'm sorry…" the traumatized young hunter cried softly as the demon continued to touch him.

"Dean will never forgive you boy king. Now…shall we begin?" the demon hissed as he pulled Sam's body roughly against his own.

"NOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!" Sam screamed, the sound echoing through the rock chambers, never to find a sympathetic ear.

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"NO! Sammy!" Dean screamed as he bolted up from his pillow.

He clutched at the blankets that covered him and tossed them aside as he scrambled off the bed. He raced to the bathroom across the hall from his room and dropped down next to the toilet just in time for his stomach contents to make an appearance. He heaved and heaved, barely noticing as a cool, gentle hand began to rub circles on his back and a sleep filled voice whispered soft words of comfort.

After what seemed an eternity, the heaving ended and Dean collapsed back against Bobby's chest, his head falling against the older man's shoulder. Bobby wrapped his arms around the younger hunter's chest and held the man as sobs wracked his trembling frame. Bobby couldn't help but notice how his friend felt smaller, more frail. Dean hadn't been eating well and the weightloss was quite noticeable. Dark bags hung below his tired eyes, a testament to the nightly visions he was sent. Bobby was sure he didn't look much better as he too was the recipient of said visions. He didn't receive them as often as Dean, but he would sometimes not sleep for days after receiving one, the scenes he was made privy to chasing any chance at rest away.

Dean's anguished voice brought Bobby out of his musings and he gently moved Dean so he could look in the distraught young man's eyes.

"What Dean? I'm sorry…I didn't hear you," the grizzled hunter queried softly.

"He's ra…he's…oh God Bobby…how can Sam withstand this…this…again…" Dean sputtered, tears streaming from his bloodshot eyes.

"I know Dean…I know. They sent me the vision too. I saw what…what they're doing to him," Bobby whispered, the memory of the vision slamming viciously into him, causing the breath to catch in his throat.

"I h-heard what the bastard said to him. I saw Sam's tears. I saw my Sammy's tears…" Dean cried as he raised a shaky hand to his face.

"It's okay Dean. Sam's endured it already…he will again."

"No Bobby. He believes him. Sammy believes him."

"What do you mean kid?"

"Sammy believes that I'm disgusted by him. They show me his eyes and I can see it. He believes what that bastard is telling him Bobby…" Dean whispered, the sadness and despair in his voice hurting Bobby to his core.

"Then…when he comes back, you'll make him see the truth. He'll believe you Dean."

"Two more months Bobby. Twenty years for Sam. How can he hold on with this? The torture is bad enough, but this? They're doing the absolute worst thing they can do and they know it."

"Dean…Sam'll endure…he's strong. They won't break him, boy."

"Maybe…maybe I want them to Bobby."

"What!? No Dean…you don't mean that."

"I just…I just want it to stop. I want him off that table…off those damn hooks. I don't want to see anymore."

"Is that for you or for him Dean?"

"What?"

"Do you want him to break to ease his suffering or yours?"

"Bobby…"

"No Dean. Look…I know it's hard. I know it's excruciating to watch and I can't even begin to imagine what it's like for Sam, but…do you think he'd rather have the alternative?"

"It's just so hard to see him…to…"

"Dean…which was worse for you? Your torture or the torture you inflicted on others? Which do you remember the most? Which one haunts your dreams?"

"Oh God Bobby…you know the answer to that," Dean cried in misery.

"I know Dean. Now, which would be worse for Sam? You know he'll come back from what's happening to him. It'll take time, but he will come back. I truly don't think he will come back if he's forced to inflict that pain on others."

"But Bobby…"

"If he comes back and he wasn't able to hold on…the angels will kill him. He'll die and he'll have all of eternity in limbo to remember what he did. Is that what you want for him?"

Dean dropped his chin to his chest and softly began to cry. He shook his head sadly as he looked back up to his friend. "No, that's not what I want for him."

Bobby sat back against the tub and gently pulled Dean to his side and waited for the young man to cry it out.

"I don't know how much more I can take Bobby," came Dean's pained whisper. "I've never been good at seeing Sam in pain."

As it turned out, that was the last vision either man was sent. Dean soon discovered that as hard as it was to witness Sam's torture, it was ten times harder not knowing what was happening to his baby brother.

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I know. That was hard. It was so hard to write and when I first posted this, I was very afraid and almost changed everything so I wouldn't have to. But, I knew Alastair would pull out everything he had to try and break Sam and that was the absolute worst thing I could come up with. Worse than any bloody torture. Please let me know what you think.

Cindy.