A/N: Thank you for all the reviews for the first chapter! I am honored that you have taken the time to read and review and so glad you've enjoyed the story so far! Here's chapter 2. Tags to "Heaven and Hell" episode (S4:10).

Disclaimer: I own nothing from Supernatural. Just borrowing the brothers for a little while.

Chapter 2

"Dean?" Sam in utter shock that his brother's sudden and rare breakdown, tried to grab Dean's arms but Dean fought him off and rolled onto his stomach and buried his face in the pillow. "Dean!"

"Leave…leave me alone, Sammy," Dean sobbed. He rolled off the bed and stumbled toward the door to the motel room.

"No way in hell, Dean." Sam was at his side in seconds. He placed himself between Dean and the door. "You are not leaving."

"Get out of my way, Sam!" Dean's sobs subsided as he fought back his tears and allowed his anger to protect his vulnerability. "I just need to be alone!"

"You are in no shape to be outside in the middle of the night, Dean," Sam stood solidly against the door. "If you need to be alone, be alone in the bathroom. But you are not leaving this room, Dean."

Sam knew by this point that if Dean didn't want to talk, he wasn't going to. Whatever hurt he felt that his brother refused to open up to him, his concern for Dean's safety was foremost. Knowing full well what nightmares can do to someone, especially after a hunt like the addo, he could not allow his brother out of his sight.

Dean, too worn to fight, relented and went into the bathroom slamming the door loudly. Sam remained by the door for a moment and then checked the locks and the salt lines again to be sure the room was secure. He went back to his bed and sighed exhaustedly. He ran his hands through his hair in frustration.

Three months ago Dean had suddenly returned from hell. It was a reunion that Sam relished in. He had his brother back. Dean, of course, jumped right back into action without a moment to waste. When asked about hell, he brushed Sam off and said he remembered nothing. However, the first night he woke a screaming Dean from his nightmare, Sam knew he was lying.

Sam spent hours in worry that night, as Dean retreated further into himself. The nightmares became regular and the more Sam pushed about the nightmares, the more Dean shut down. Dean finally admitted that day on the dock that he remembered everything from hell. He also made the specific point that he will not talk about it.

Since that day, Sam stopped prying. He knew Dean's nightmares must have been about hell and decided that he would just be there for his big brother. He would awaken him but sit in silence. Dean has taken to having Sam sit by him while recovering from that night's horror, even leaning against his brother's leg and allowing Sam's comforting hand to rest on his back. He needed that to ground him. Sam needed it as well. He knew Dean wouldn't talk, but the fact that he allowed Sam to comfort him meant everything. They were brothers and they needed each other.

It was nights like tonight that Sam couldn't handle. The nights where Dean completely shut Sam out and wanted to run away. Sam has awakened Dean just about every night and has blocked many doors from him, but never has Dean completely broken down upon awakening. Dean never allowed himself to be that vulnerable. But something happened tonight and Sam was determined to find out what. However, he knew Dean would just shut him out if asked about it so he had to tread carefully.

Dean slammed the door to the bathroom and leaned back against the door. Slowly he slid down to the floor resting his head in his hands. The tears welled up as he tried to process what had just happened. Damn he wished Sam would've let him out. He was able to clear his mind better walking outdoors than sitting in some run down motel bathroom. Sam had become much more protective of Dean since his return from hell. In some ways, Dean appreciated it, however on nights like tonight he found it quite annoying.

Sighing he rubbed his hands over his face. "Angela," he whispered. Hell flashed before him, all the torturing he did. At first, he had felt every lash he inflicted on every soul put before him. After some time, he had lost count of the number of souls. Eventually, he didn't even register the souls as beings. He just cut and carved one right after another completely hardened and detached. He never knew the names of the souls…and he certainly could not remember an Angela, or anyone who looked like her. Clearly, she had remembered him. Just as he had remembered his torturer, before Alistair took over. He could only imagine the torture and horror he caused her. Enough for her to invade his dreams. What exactly did she want?

Dean's thoughts turned to Sam. Oh how he longed for Sammy during his 40 years in hell. It had only been 4 months here on earth, but for 40 years, Dean endured the flames of hell. He hadn't talked about hell to Sam. What would his little brother think of him if he knew what he did? There was no way Sam could know. But now, he had awakened and broken down in front of Sammy.

Sam was worried. He knew his little brother. Sam wore his heart on his sleeve and he always relished in receiving comfort from his big brother. Dean prided himself in being that support for his little brother. However, when the tables were turned, Dean refused to allow Sam to see his weaknesses and had been trained as a Winchester to keep up a bravado image. Even to Sam. But tonight, he broke down in front of Sam before he could stop it.

The shock of hearing the woman in white speak and then seeing Sam had overwhelmed Dean to tears. Hell had haunted him since his return, especially in his dreams. And the woman in white, Angela as he learned tonight, had been there looking on silently at the end of every dream. Tonight, the first time Angela spoke, he had learned he had tortured her in hell. What he had done to her…Dean could not fathom.

Dean stifled a sob as the guilt surged within him. He felt sick. His mind raced. What did Angela want? How could he make it right again? Would the nightmares ever stop? The most troubling thought he had was: What would Sammy think of him? The Winchesters protect others from monsters; they don't become them. Dean was truly a monster in hell. For the last 10 years of his hell stay, he was a monster. Sammy would be so ashamed.

Sighing deeply, Dean wiped his eyes and stood up. He went over to the sink and splashed cold water on his face. He stared at himself in the mirror. He was disgusted with what he saw, what he had become. His eyes might as well have turned black, because that was he was. Sammy would never forgive him. He would never forgive himself.

An hour had past and Sam still sat waiting for Dean to come out of the bathroom. He looked over at the clock. 3:15. He groaned in exhaustion and lay back down on the bed. He just wanted to sleep, but something had disturbed his big brother so much he was distraught and hiding in the bathroom. Sam hated it when Dean shut him out.

Rubbing his eyes, he sat back up and stared at the bathroom door. Sam heard little to no movement since Dean slammed the door. He considered knocking and checking on him, but he remained and allowed Dean his space. For tonight at least, Sam would allow Dean his space. He lay back down on the bed and within minutes, Sam was fast asleep.

Dean was chained to the racks, going in and out of consciousness, murmuring Sammy's name. The familiar pain of the day's torture seared through his body.

"De-aaan, wakey-wakey," Alistair's voice came in a sing-song tease. Dean's slowly opened his swollen eyes barely able to focus on his torturer.

"What do you want?" Dean's voice raspy.

"You know my deal, every day I come to you with it," he replied delightfully.

"Stick it!"

Alistair laughed and began to pace. "You know, Dean, I admire your ambition. Thirty years, I've never had anyone go thirty years before. Most people give in after a year."

"Sorry to disappoint."

"Oh no, Dean," Alistair replied shaking his head. "You haven't disappointed." He stepped up to Dean and looked him squarely in the eyes. "But even you, the almighty Dean, cannot take this forever." Dean turned his eyes away. "Dean, things aren't going to get better here. Face it, you are here. You heroically saved your brother from this place. I applaud you. But you're stuck here…forever." With the snap of his fingers, Alistair sent unimaginable pain throughout Dean's broken body.

"Nooo! Sammyyy!" Dean wailed.

"You can either continue to endure this. It's only going to continue to get worse," Alistair started, and then snapped his fingers. Dean was made whole again. All of the day's pain and injury had disappeared. He was standing, free from the racks. Dean rubbed his wrists where he was chained down. "Or you can be free, like this." Alistair stood directly in front of Dean. "What's it gonna be?"

The following morning, Dean stood in front of the racks. He breathed deeply, briefly enjoying his newfound freedom. A bell rang and a soul appeared before him on the racks. She was in a white dress with red hair and clear blue eyes. Dean gasped. "Angela?"

"Please. Don't." She pleaded, tears rolling down her face.

"De-aaan," Alistair's sing-song voice told him it was time to start. Dean picked up his first tool. He looked back at the woman in white with despair.

"I'm sorry," he sighed, and began his job wincing at her cries.

Dean awoke on the bathroom floor to a loud banging on the door.

"Dean, you open this door, or I will break it down!" Sammy yelled, outright frightened now that he was awakened by Dean's screaming from the bathroom. Dean collected himself, wiped the tears that had fallen and opened the door. Sam stared at Dean and quickly pulled him into a hug. Dean didn't fight this time. He returned his brother's embrace. Sam held onto big brother, slightly startled at how much Dean was trembling.

"Dean, talk to me," Sam whispered. Dean pulled away and walked toward the bed. He plopped down and rested his head in his hands. Sam followed slowly. He knelt beside Dean who eventually looked up at him. Sam waited quietly.

"Sam," Dean started. "I'm exhausted. We need to sleep." With that, Dean pulled himself back onto the bed and tucked himself under the covers. Sighing deeply in frustration, Sam threw himself onto his bed.

"Ok, Dean," he said. "But we are going to talk sometime." Sam rolled over and resigned himself to sleep.

Dean lay restless. Tears threatened and Dean forced them away. He stared at the ceiling in realization that the woman in white was his first victim after he got off the racks, and Angela had endured the fullest extent of his torture.

What would Sammy think?

To be continued….

A/N: Thank you for reading! If you have a chance, please review! They are so helpful and encouraging!