AN: Okay, I might've changed the chapter names just cuz the other ones didn't seem fitting enough. And the only person to correctly identify the meaning of 'Dolor' was Catherine H over on AO3. Shout-out to her for catching it! Dolor is both Latin and Spanish for 'pain.' In short, the address translates to Pain Lane. Yes, I am five. Anywho, this is the chapter which beholds the hurt!Sam, protective!Dean, and vengeance galore! Hope y'all enjoy!

With a shaky breath, Sam pushed the door open. He had no idea what kind of state Dean would be in when he got there, but at least he'd finally get his break.

It wasn't at all surprising when Sam looked across to see Dean in chains, low enough that he was on his knees, and Raef was holding a knife to his throat.

Wow. Original.

"Hey, Sam." Raef cooed sweetly. "Long time, no see."

Again, original.

Sam spread his arms out wide. "Well. Here I am. You ready to hold up your end of the bargain?"

The muffled growl from Dean was ignored by both Sam and Raef.

"Nice try, Sammy. How 'bout you throw the Colt over here first?"

Sam flinched. "How did-"

"Because I'm not an idiot, that's how." He pressed the tip of the knife harder into Dean's throat. "Do I have to ask again?"

Begrudgingly, Sam reached into the back of his pants, and held up what he had thought was going to be his secret weapon.

"Put it on the ground, nice and slow."

Sam obliged.

Raef stared at it for a moment, and then psychically slid it somewhere behind him, somewhere far away from Sam.

"Okay," Sam said. "Colt's yours. So am I. Now let Dean go."

Raef smiled, and slowly moved the knife away from Dean's neck. Then he flicked a finger, pinning Sam to the wall.

Dean yanked on his chains, growling and yelling beneath the duct tape around his mouth, ignoring how much his thrashing hurt his seemingly endless wounds.

"We had a deal, Raef! Let Dean go. Now!" Sam shouted.

"Slow your roll there, cowboy, all in good time. Promise, I'm not laying a finger on him now that you're here, as was the deal." Raef had begun sauntering his way over to Sam, swaying the hips of his female vessel. To say it was off-putting would have been a gross understatement.

"Dean was talking real big about you, yknow. Saying how you knew better than to just waltz right in here. Or how you were smarter than me. Or that I wouldn't get the drop on you again."

Raef was on Sam now, only a few inches between his body and Sam's futilely squirming one.

Laying a hand on Sam's cheek, Raef smiled. "Boy, am I excited to prove him wrong."

Sam's head snapped back against the wall, a pained gasp slipping past his lips when a pressure suddenly appeared in his brain. The force seemed to be pressing on his skull from the inside out, trying to break it.

A choked cry came out as the pressure increased, and Sam could feel something dribbling out of his ear. That was never good.

Even gagged, Sam could understand his brother's attempt to scream, 'Sammy!' He knew exactly how Dean felt right then. Helpless to watch and listen as your brother's tortured in front of you.

Raef's hand hovered in front of Sam's face, every twitch or twist of it only intensifying the pain, never lessening it.

"Had to undergo a lotta torture to acquire this new skill, Sammy. Been saving it just for you. Tell me, d'ya think it was worth it?"

The hand twisted in a motion similar to turning up a dial, with the action, the pain crescendoed and crescendoed until it reached a climax that Sam could no longer bear, and he screamed.

"Huh." Raef mused aloud, not really trying to suppress his pleased smile. "I'll take that as a yes."

At last, the hand lowered, and Sam let out a shaky gasp, head drooping to his chest.

A finger pressed under his chin, lifting it up until Sam was forcefully looking into Raef's icy stare. Sam gritted his teeth, trying so damn hard to hide the fact that he was still trembling with the aftershocks of the pain. His mouth was clamped tightly shut, knowing that he'd let out a whimper or some other utterly humiliating sound if he opened it.

"What do you think, Sammy?" Raef giggled, dragging his hand down to rest on Sam's ribcage. "Up for round two?"

Sam's eyes went wide and pleading in fear. If it were any other demon, Sam might have held out a little bit longer, but this was Raef. He knew what scared Sam, exactly how to hurt him, damn near everything you'd never want a bad guy to know, and that caused Sam's resolve, and his dignity to crumble a lot more quickly.

Terrified, Sam desperately shook his head.

Raef smiled. "Scared, Sammy?"

Sam only clenched his jaw in answer.

The smile widened. "Good."

Twitching his hand no more than a centimeter, the coursing agony and pressure reappeared in Sam's abdomen, focusing meticulously on his ribcage.

Little hands of iron worked inside of him, pressing on his ribs until Sam swore he felt them bending outward.

The mock motion of turning a dial returned, and the hands pressed harder, seeming to heat up as well, causing a mixture of pain, pressure, and fire to rise inside of Sam. His mouth went wide in a silent scream, trying to resist the sound building up in his throat.

"Aww, Sammy, there's no reason to hold back. Go on. Show Dean how easy it really is to break you."

Raef pressed one finger to Sam's sternum, the simple touch sending sparks of pure agony racing down every inch of Sam's body.

There was no hope in trying to hold back his shriek.

"That's my Sammy." Raef let up the power entrapping Sam in pain, but quickly grabbed his chin when his head fell forward again. "Ah, ah, ah, no passing out yet." He scolded the nearly unconscious Sam, squeezing his jaw a little more harshly than necessary, because hey, the kid's pain was the whole point of this. He tried not to openly revel at the sight of blood trickling out of Sam's nose, the pressure clearly more than he was able to handle.

"Where next, buddy?" The hand waved in front of Sam's face once more, a truly psychotic grin on Raef's face. "Why not just stick to the classics?"

He touched Sam's forehead, with four fingers this time. The force sent Sam into full on seizures, blood now trickling from just about every single hole in his head. He seemed past the capability of screaming at this point.

You want to torture Dean Winchester? Fine, torture him. You want to use him as bait to lure his brother into a trap? Prepare to hurt, but sure, go right ahead. But chain him up and force him to watch while you torture his brother to the point of screaming himself hoarse?

Hell. Freaking. No.

It didn't take much to make Dean Winchester angry. Or to dislike someone. But the one damn thing that never failed to make him furious beyond all reason was hurting Sammy. That got you dead. No questions asked.

Now, Dean was hurting. Like a lot. But his pain didn't mean jack when his little brother's well-being was at stake. Uh-uh. Not one bit.

Arrogance seemed to be a reoccurring flaw of Raef's. He believed himself to be invincible, so he didn't seem to put that much effort into insuring his captives were unable to escape.

And Dean was gonna exploit the hell out of that flaw.

Raef had lowered Dean's chains so that his knees touched the ground. Made it easier to keep him at knifepoint. But the strain on his shoulders had also lessened, as had the tension. In sort, his arms had a lot more mobility.

As quietly as he could, Dean reached forward, wincing and biting his lip at the pain brought on by finally moving, but he pressed on. He reached out until he grasped the same knife that had been use to carve the cell number into his chest. That was definitely not gonna be weird to explain when chick's saw him shirtless.

Focus, Dean!

Even though the sound hurt him more than any broken bones or hot pokers had over the past few days, Sam's screams were giving Dean a real good cover while he worked the knife inside the keyhole of the manacles around his wrists.

At last, there was a click.

Free, about damn time by the way, Dean slowly peeled the tape off his lips, and then eased his way onto his feet. He nearly collapsed when he forgot about the broken toe until the agony that shot through his entire leg reminded him about it.

The time for pain was over though. Now, it was time to make this asshole pay for everything he'd done to him, but especially to his brother.

Fingers shaking for a brief moment, Dean leaned over and scooped up the Colt, which Raef had oh so carelessly discarded. He cocked it with the fingers that weren't broken, and took his aim.

"Hey, Raef." Dean called out to him.

Raef's head had barely turned to him all the way before Dean took the shot. The bullet hit its target perfectly, landing directly in Raef's gut. Because this bastard did not deserve to die easy.

Instantly, Raef dropped to the ground, the special bullet sending pulses of pain through his body with every single breath.

No longer suspended upwards by Raef's power, Sam fell to his hands and knees on the warehouse floor. He took a moment to remember how to breathe while Dean made his way over, cocking the gun once more.

"That was for the first time you screwed with my brother." Dean put his uninjured foot on Raef's stomach, applying an agonisingly slow pressure to the bullet wound. He couldn't help the little smirk that crept onto his face at Raef's pained cry.

Suddenly, he gave a harsh stomp, sending another visible course of power and pain through Raef's body. His eyes had gone black and were welling with tears.

Good. That son of a bitch deserved to hurt.

"And that was for screwing with me." He aimed the gun between Raef's eyes. "And this is for screwing with Sammy again."

Raef whimpered, making Dean give a brief chuckle.

But then Dean lowered the gun.

"I'm not gonna do it..."

Raef was shuddering in agony, but Dean saw the relief flood his eyes.

Without even looking at him, Dean handed the Colt to his brother.

"Because that honour, belongs to Sam."

Shakily, Sam got to his feet again. Blood was still gradually leaking from his ears, eyes, nose, mouth, but even with all that, Sam was determined to end this.

Raef knew it was over, but it was only instinct to try and grovel when he was about to lose his life. "Pl-pl's, S'mmy..."

Sam let out a scoff, an almost indistinguishable smirk on his face. "It's like I told you back at Stanford, Raef." Sam placed the gun at Raef's temple, the ghost of a smile completely wiped away. "My name's 'Sam.'"

And then he pulled the trigger.

With one gunshot, Sam's long term nightmare went wide-eyed in momentary pain, lightning crackling around the wound, but then it faded, as did the life that was occupying the body.

Raef was finally dead.

And it was a damn good feeling.

AN: Okay, I know I promised that this would be the last chapter, but my muse desired a good patch-up scene meshed with some brotherly truths coming out. Confused? Here's a-

Sneak Peek: "Even with Raef trying to rub it in and everything, Dean still didn't know the whole story about what happened between him and Sam, and as a big brother, he needed to know."

If the brotherly love isn't your style, then I guess you can say you're done. Last chapter is fully written out, just need to find time to type it. Hope y'all enjoyed this chapter, and drop a review to let me know what you thought!