--A/N Sorry it took so long--

3

Sam was getting worried. If they didn't find Dean soon...He didn't want to think about what might happen to him. He and Bobby had been driving in silence for about thirty minutes.. Both stewing with their own thoughts. Bobby glanced over at Sam.

"We'll find him Sam." Bobby said. Sam nodded. He didn't feel like talking. "Dean's strong. No matter what happens he'll do whatever it takes to stay alive. If not for his sake, then for yours." Sam nodded again.

"I just want to find him Bobby." Sam said sharply. Bobby nodded and continued driving. He knew Sam was just angry.

They got back to the motel, and started looking, for anything. They scanned every inch of the room, leaving no stone unturned looking for any trace of where Dean might be.

"Anything?" Sam asked. Bobby shook his head.

Come on dammit. Something...anything. He thought.

"Hey Sam," Bobby said. Sam turned. "I got something." Bobby carried something over to Sam. It was Dean's cell phone, dusted in what looked like sulfur.

"A demon has my brother?" Sam said.

"From the mud outside it looks like more than one." Bobby said.

Sam walked outside and took a good look at the parking lot. A set of small footprints and a much larger set were coming and going from the motel room. It also looked like something had been dragged through the mud.

Dean.

The ice cold water hit his face again. His face was held under the water for what seemed like years. He was finally pulled out and gasped for air.

"See Dean," Meg said. "That's what holy water sort of feels like." Dean coughed and shivered. He didn't try to get away from the male demon that was holding him. His vice like grip on his hair wouldn't falter. His back and chest throbbed violently, the pain white hot. His wrists ached. He was so cold, so tired. "Chain him back up Chris." The demon obeyed.

Dean hissed as he was hoisted up and locked in the painful shackles. He listened but heard nothing. He was still shaking, and would have killed to have the ability to run.

Footsteps started again. A hand ran up and down his chest. Dean pulled away, repulsed.

"Aw Dean," Meg mocked. "You're shaking. Are you cold?" Dean didn't answer.The water ran down his body mixing with some of the dried blood and joined the puddle of blood on the floor. "Well," Meg continued. "I know one way to warm you up." She walked away.

Dean was scared. He hated not seeing what she was doing.

"This might sting a little." She said sarcastically.

Then everything was nothing but pure agony. A blinding, burning pain on his left shoulder.

Meg dug the fire poker into his skin. Dean screamed. Meg breathed in, drinking in her satisfaction.

"Please stop!" He begged. Meg dug in harder. Dean screamed louder. Meg moved the poker and jabbed it into one of his open wounds. "Oh God please don't!" Meg laughed.

"This is for my father Dean, you brought this on yourself." Dean screamed again. There was nothing but pain. He wondered if it would ever go away. Meg smiled. "I bet you're sorry," Meg said,pulling the fire poker off of him. Dean breathed heavily. "Aren't you?" She yelled, jabbing him once again.

"Please no!" He yelled.

"Say you're sorry!" She shrieked. Dean shouted again, tears forming in his eyes.

"I'm sorry!" He said, tears flowing. Meg removed the fire poker. "I'm so sorry." He sobbed. Meg grinned again. She walked toward him.

"Good." She whispered in his ear. Dean shuddered.

Get away from me. He thought desperately. His wishes were soon dashed as she licked the side of his face.

"Get the h-hell...away from me." He said quietly. Meg stopped and backed away. She pulled her hand back and struck him hard on the jaw.

"Ah..." Dean hissed.

"Shut up." She said. She approached him again. Resuming what she was doing before. Down his neck and up his face. Dean tried to pull away.

"Aw Dean. You don't want to have some fun with me?" She whispered.

"Please no." Dean pleaded. Meg smiled.

"You deserve this Dean." She said. Dean shuddered as she licked around his jaw line.

God Sam please hurry.