Sam sighed wearily, wiping a hand over his face as he continued writing out instructions. He was working on several new punishments, and it involved a lot of writing of how they were to be conducted. "What do you think of this, Fizz?" Sam asked, addressing his advisor whom he nicknamed after getting tired of Fiskar.

He read out another torture sequence and Fizz nodded. "But perhaps, my King, it would be better to have the intestines burnt inside of the person then pulled out, instead of simply tearing them out?"

"Hmm…" Sam toyed with his pen before nodding. "Yes, good idea Fizz." He began to write it over. Sam didn't understand how even in Hell with demons who didn't care for anything and anyone somehow stuck to the tradition of having the leader manually write these things out. Lucifer himself did it, apparently. But Sam realized that unless the King himself wrote it, no one would follow it.

He finished another long scroll of parchment before taking the next one, sighing again. "Forgive me, my King, but you look weary. Maybe you should take a break," his advisor suggested.

Sam nodded, setting the scroll back down. "Thank you, Fizz, you're dismissed." Sam shoved the scrolls he already filled with his rather scratchy script into a box before snapping his fingers and making the box disappear. He stood up from his desk, going out of the study and walking down the hall to the bedrooms.

"Dean?" he called, tapping lightly on his bedroom door. "Where are you, my pet?"

He pushed open the door but Dean's room was empty. Sam looked around, feeling lonely. "Dean?" he called, but he got no answer. He figured he was out watching the demons torture, or playing with the hellhounds.

He walked down the hall in search of something to do when he heard a small whimper. He frowned, turning to face a dark, empty hallway. "Hello?" he called, taking a step towards it, wondering if he imagined it.

After he called out, the whimpers increased, sounding desperate. Sam strode into the hallway quickly, snapping his fingers and lighting the torches on the wall. He gasped in horror when he saw what was on the ground.

Dean looked up at him weakly, bruised and bloody, eyes half open. There were awful cuts on him and his leg was broken. A trail of blood lay behind him, as though he'd dragged himself forward until he couldn't go on anymore. He was naked; his pants had been torn off. He whimpered pitifully, trying to reach his Master.

Sam sank to his knees, in shock at seeing Dean hurt and held him, cradling him to his chest. "Dean, baby boy, what happened? Who did this to you?" he asked, feeling anger grow inside of him.

Dean was too weak to say anything and he pawed at his Master's chest. "Shh, it's alright pet, it's alright. This will hurt a bit, but it'll stop soon alright? Shh…" Sam moved his hands over Dean's leg, starting to heal him, when Dean howled in pain and desperately tugged away from Sam's hand.

Sam looked down with sorrow at Dean's features, which were twisted with pain, and realized it hurt too much for Sam to heal him. "Okay, it's alright baby boy, shh, I have you now, we'll just have to take care of your injuries, it's alright…"

Sam kept up a string of soothing words as he gently lifted Dean in his arms and carried him back to his own room, laying him gently on the bed. He got a basin of warm water and washed Dean's cuts as gently as he could. He leaned forward, wiping Dean's face, clearing the dirt from it.

Dean's green eyes stared at Sam and they filled with tears. Sam let out a cry and leaned over, combing back Dean's hair and kissing his cheek gently.

"It's alright pet, don't worry, Master is going to take care of you, alright? I have you, it's okay now, you're safe…"

Sam cleaned Dean before shouting for some demons to fix his leg. After they finished their work, Dean pawed at his cast unhappily. "I know pet, but it'll get better soon." Sam was about to ask again who did that to him, but Dean yawned, blinking his eyes quickly.

"Go to sleep, rest a bit, you'll feel better," Sam told him, leaning over to press a kiss to Dean's forehead. He snapped his fingers, extinguishing the lights, and made to get off the bed when Dean's hand grabbed his.

"Stay, Master," Dean whispered, head bowed, afraid Sam would punish him for being too forward.

Sam smiled down at him and crawled back in the bed, pulling Dean to him and wrapping the covers around them both. "Of course." Dean cuddled into Sam's chest, nuzzling his neck and Sam stroked Dean's hair, humming him a lullaby. Dean's eyes drifted shut and Sam kissed Dean's temple, falling asleep as well.

A week passed, Dean hadn't spoken much, but he was getting better. He flinched sometimes when Sam touched him, didn't like Sam holding him too tightly to him and pushed away from it, but Sam figured it was because of what happened and gave Dean his space.

Soon, Dean's leg felt better enough for Sam to heal it fully and they got rid of the cast. Dean sat on the bed, eating the food Sam had made for him, until Sam sat next to him, pulling him close and burying his face in Dean's soft hair. Dean leaned his head into his Master's touch and purred softly.

Sam took Dean's plate and fork from him, feeding him the rest, then held Dean, letting his fingers brush Dean's skin. "Baby boy," he murmured.

"Yes, Master?"

Sam pulled away to look into Dean's eyes. "Who did that to you?" he asked, gently, but firmly, needing an answer.

Fear filled Dean's green eyes and he pushed himself into Sam, whimpering, trying to press as close to Sam as he could. Sam wrapped his arms tightly around his pet and soothed him, seeing that Dean was afraid. He felt rage burning inside of him, that someone, some filth, would dare make Dean feel that way.

"Fizz," Dean whispered.

Sam's eyes widened. He'd found Dean after he was with Fizz. And he was working on the reports for a good three hours, not to mention, Dean dragged himself for a while before finally losing the strength.

"Pet," Sam said slowly, trying to contain himself. "How long were you there for?"

There was a small pause before Dean answered. Sam knew Dean would have counted the seconds; he used to be a hunter. It's exactly what Sam would have done, no matter how unimportant it seemed.

"Six hours," he said softly.

Sam's eyes blazed. He was about to leave then and there, then he remembered when he found Dean. Suddenly, all the times Dean had flinched away from Sam and the times he pushed himself out of Sam's embrace made sense. "Pet… did he, did he rape you?" Sam choked out, remembering Dean's pants had been gone.

He felt Dean's body tense and his breathing quickened.

"Baby boy, tell me, did he rape you?"

The room was silent then Sam heard the barely audible, "Yes."

He nearly collapsed all of Hell.

"Pet, I'll be back," he said, setting Dean back on his bed, kissing him, then storming out of the room before he had a chance to protest.

It was an hour until Sam returned. Dean burrowed himself into his lap. "Did you kill him?"

Sam decided to leave out the fact that he tortured him in front of everyone, made an example of him, and left something to remind them of what would happen to them if anyone dared to do it.

"Yes pet, I killed him. No one would ever hurt you like that again, I'm here now."

Dean hummed and nuzzled Sam's leg, letting his nose brush Sam's crotch and the King smiled.

"Now, how about I get rid of that filth's touch on you?" he murmured, placing a hand on Dean's crotch and fondling his balls. Dean arched his hips into his Master's touch and Sam slipped his hand into Dean's jeans.