Disclaimer: Supernatural characters and storyline are property of Eric Kripke and associated publishers/licensers.

Closing his eyes tight Dean tried to block out the world around him. He wanted to forget the smell of the room he was in, to forget the stains on the carpet floor and the blood soaked clothes on the bed. More than anything he wanted to forget the beseeching look in Sam's eyes. Looking at Sammy hurt sometimes. It hurt Dean in a way he couldn't explain to himself let alone anyone else. Looking at his younger brother was like looking at the sun for too long. It dazzled you in the beginning but soon your head would be filled with light that made your eyes ache and your breath short, seeing spots and feeling dizzy. Looking at Sam filled Dean with hope and need, so much so that Dean's heart would burn and he would have to turn away. He was the one constant in his life, the one person who Dean truly loved. And wasn't that what had started all of this?

Dean had been trying his hardest to make sure Sam never found out about hell. He wanted to make everything seem as normal as possible because his brother had been through enough. He had tried his hardest to forget about it himself but with Sam being close to him all the time that was next to impossible. Dean had never wanted Sam to find out about his torment. Never wanted Sam to feel anything he had felt. More than anything Dean didn't want Sam to know how much he had deserved his time in hell and should never have been let out.

Sam was wound so tight he was close to shooting out of his chair just to go somewhere. Dean had his eyes closed and the emotions flickering across his face spoke louder than any words could. Deep in Sam's mind a voice warned him to back off, warned him to let it go. He knew he should listen to that voice but Sam knew himself too well. He never listened to that voice. This was about Dean and something was hurting him. Whether this demon or a memory, Sam didn't know but he had to find out because he couldn't fight something he didn't recognise.

A feeling of dread swept over Sam as he saw his brothers eyes open and lock onto his. Dean's eyes burned into him, filled with an emotion so hot and raw Sam had trouble holding it. It was like he was seeing a window into hell itself. Ignoring every warning voice in his head Sam shot out of his chair and grabbed Dean by the shoulders, anchoring the older man. Desperately trying to pull Dean back from where ever his mind had taken him. He ran a protective had down the side of his brother's face, feeling the sweat that had gathered at his temple.

With Dean's name on his lips Sam was thrown back in a hard shove, cool air filling the gap between them.

'I can't talk about this with you touching me Sam,' barked Dean. Dean kept his eyes averted knowing the comment was cutting. He couldn't think about it. He had to get through this. Sam might not even want to look at him after tonight let alone be comforted by him.

Making sure Sam was on the far side of the room Dean sat on the bed and took a deep breath. There was no way to prepare for this and no way to make it less hard.

'It wasn't four months you know,' started Dean in a hesitating voice. 'It was four months up here but down there, I dunno, times different. It was more like fourth years.' Sam face was a picture of disbelief.

'Oh my God' he whispered, not knowing what else to say.

Unable to bear Sam talking Dean pushed forward with his tale, his soul suddenly feeling calm.

'They sliced and carved and tore at me in ways you...until there was nothing left.' Dean swallowed more whiskey, hoping the burn of the alcohol would numb every nerve in his body.

'And suddenly I would be whole again, like magic, just so they could start in all over.' Dean's voice was cutting. He knew his face looked as hard and as cold as stone, a contradiction to what he was feeling inside.

Careful to keep his eyes averted Dean shivered silently. He could feel the blades running over his skin; feel the fire in their touch.

'And Alistair would be there every day, watching, helping, and directing the pain.' Dean's voice started to shake, knowing he couldn't prolong it any more.

'And at the end of every day he would make me an offer, to take me off the rack, if I put souls onto it, if I started the torture. And every day I told him to stick were the sun shines.' Dean could see Sam nodding from the corner of his eye. His brother was appalled and torn up listening to this. He wanted to stop but there was no way he could. He needed to say it. He needed for his sin to be known. Needed for Sam to know he wasn't his brave older brother anymore who would look out for him. He didn't deserve to be saved and he needed for Sam to know why.

'Alistair used ever trick he had to make me bend but I wouldn't. He then used the only thing that I had kept locked inside me, the only thing that had been keeping me strong. You, Sammy. The thought of you out there was the only thing keeping me from breaking, and Alistair knew it. He would come to me when all the other demons were gone, wearing your face. The first time I cried with happiness because I thought I was being saved. Then I screamed with rage because I thought they had gotten you too. It wasn't until I felt my skin being torn off that I knew it was all a lie.' Dean paused to take a fleeting look at his younger brother. Sam's face was pinched in sorrow, wanting it all to be untrue and hating that he had been used against his brother.

'He would murmur to me in your voice. You would tell me to give in to it, telling me that you wanted me to end my pain. I think I went mad down there. I couldn't handle the sight of you laughing as the eyes were being ripped from my head. Or worse was when you would hold me and tell me it was over, that you would protect me. Sometimes days would go by with you holding me. Stoking my arms and kissing my face. It would feel like heaven after so much hell. I'd heal in your hands and i'd reach for you, never letting you go. Your lips would move across my body and repair my soul. I would whisper words of love to you while your naked body move against mine. My hell turned into my haven and I didn't want it to end. And then Alistair would come and make his offer and with my refusal the pain would begin again and you would be ripped from me.' Tears glistened in his eyes and Dean was finding it hard to talk around the shame that was building at the base of his throat. Self loathing flooded though him and he couldn't bring himself to look at Sam, fearing what he might see.

'For thirty years I said no Sammy, for thirty years. And then I couldn't take it anymore. I couldn't stand for you to be taken away from me again. And I got off that rack, God help me I got right of it, and I started ripping them apart. I lost count of how many souls...' Shaking his head, tears streaming down his face Dean's eyes rose to the ceiling looking for some redemption.

'The things that I did to them...' unable to continue Dean just fell quiet, encompassed in his grief.

'Dean you held out for thirty years, that's longer than anyone could have' choked out Sam, trying to form the words around the lump in his throat.

A silent sob shuck Dean's body on the bed at Sam's words.

'How I feel, inside me...I wish I couldn't feel anything Sammy, I wish I couldn't feel a damn thing' Dean struggled with the words. His heart was breaking and he couldn't will it to stop dead in his chest no matter how hard he tried.

'I'm sorry Sammy...'

Reviews please because i'm not sure how i'm doing with this. Its all done with feeling and little else. Thank you to those who have already reviewed my story. Its been a great encouragement.