*Trigger Warning! Blood, gore, torture*

Nothing had prepared him for this. Watching Sammy die hadn't prepared him. Forty years in Hell hadn't prepared him. His baby brother saying yes to Lucifer and diving into the cage hadn't prepared him. He couldn't process what had happened before his eyes. He had been tortured, and he had tortured. He had been through Heaven and Hell, literally. He had been hunted by hellhounds, pursued by Michael, fought through Purgatory, carried the Mark of Cain. Nothing had prepared him for this.

Dean hung limply from his bonds, his face damp with slowly drying tears, his body numb to the physical pain that still coursed through it. The echoes of their screams had long since faded from the chamber. The demon had left her there once her screaming had finally ended. He'd been forced to watch her choke and drown in her own blood. His wrists were bloody once again from his desperate attempts to free himself. This time, the chains had not given way with the breaking of his bones. If anything, they'd become tighter. He could barely feel his hands anymore. A part of his mind told him that the loss of sensation was bad, that he may lose his hands before this was over. He couldn't bring himself to care.

His gaze moved to the table.

He started at her face, which was now a crisscross of torn flesh and blood. Her hair was a tangled mess beneath her head. He moved his eyes down to her chest. She was naked now, her clothes had been torn to shreds under the demon's touch. One of her breasts lay open, sliced neatly in two. He couldn't help but continue to look. It was added torture, but he couldn't stop. The demon had disemboweled her while she screamed, then laid her insides on her pelvis with care before moving to her toes and removing them one by one. Her hands, what was left of them, lay beside her.

He moved his gaze back up to her face. Her expression was almost peaceful now. If not for the blood and ichor she could have almost been sleeping. He tried to imagine her sleeping. He tried to look past the mess the demon had created and see his Lisa, radiant and happy. She would lay on the bed beside him and smile, stroking his bare chest with a lazy finger, curled into his side. He formed the image in his mind perfectly, studying her ruined face, seeing past the truth to a vision of what she used to be. His vision was colored with red, even his daydreams refusing to see past the nightmare before him.

A primal growl bubbled up from Dean's core, carrying with it a rage he didn't know he could possess. It filled his whole being before erupting from him in a sound that was barely human. It seemed to drain every bit of what was left of his energy, leaving him hanging limply from his bonds amidst the dying echoes of his fury.

As the last of the echoes faded, a new sound took up their place. The sound of a scuffle, then footsteps on the cavern floor. Dean didn't bother to lift his head as they approached. He knew his end was near.

Sam struggled through the thick underbrush of the forest, fighting to keep up with Castiel. The angel had shrugged him off and darted into the woods just moments before. He seemed intent on a spot ahead of them, pushing through the forest without regard for the noise he was making. Crowley trailed behind them, keeping up easily. "Cas!" Sam called. "Cas stop! We have to think this through!"

Castiel stopped suddenly and turned to him, eyes flashing. "Think it through?" he spat, "Dean needs us Sam! Now! You don't understand the pain he's in!"

Sam took a deep breath, prepared to defend himself, but Crowley stopped him with a firm hand on his shoulder. "Deep breath Feathers. The Moose is right, we can't rush in here."

Castiel glared at him. "What do you suggest then Crowley?"

"I suggest we see what we're up against. Slowly and quietly." He nodded in the direction they'd been heading. "Let me scout ahead, I'll see how many guards he has and report back." In a blink he was gone.

Castiel turned haunted eyes to Sam. "I can feel his pain Sam. I've never felt him in pain like this."

Sam nodded and patted the angles shoulder. "We'll get him back Cas." There was a whoosh of air and Crowley was back, looking grim. "How many?" Sam asked, bracing himself for the worst.

Crowley frowned. "None." He shook his head when Sam started to speak. "Hold it Sam, it won't be that easy. I found a cave entrance a little ways ahead. There are no guards, but there are a plethora of wards. No angels or demons will be getting inside anytime soon. If you go in there, you'll be on your own."

Sam nodded and they all moved, headed for the cave. It turned out to be a small opening in the side of a rock wall, nothing anyone would notice if they hadn't been looking for it. It was pitch black inside, and not a sound could be heard around them. Even the animals were silent here.

"I'm going in," Sam looked at both of them. Castiel's mouth was set in a grim line, but he nodded. Crowley just shook his head and leaned against a nearby tree, hands in his pockets.

"Find a way to break the wards Sam, don't try to face Malleaphar on your own." Castiel placed a hand on Sam's shoulder and gripped it tightly. "We'll be waiting to rush in as soon as they're down. Be careful."

Sam nodded and ducked through the entrance and into the cave. He looked back twice, at the dim light of the opening, before darkness swallowed him. He crept through the pitch blackness, one hand sliding along the cavern wall in an attempt to keep him on his path. It seemed like a lifetime he was alone in the dark, no sound save his own breathing, no light to guide his steps. After awhile he began to see a flickering glow of firelight ahead of him, and he headed towards it with great care.

He ducked down close to the wall as a sound filled the air around him. It swelled in volume, crashing off the walls in a terrible crescendo that echoed against itself. It was a primal scream, filled with anger and barely human.

Sam forced himself to stand, to move closer to the light once again. He found the edge of the light as the echoes faded, a ring of torches on the walls which made the cavern's dead end glow. Terror filled him upon seeing what the torches revealed at their center. He took a deep breath, but before he could step forward a hand grabbed his hair and jerked him backwards. Before he knew what was happening his arm was jerked behind him until he felt it snap and he was stabbed in several places in quick succession. His legs buckled beneath him and he hit the ground hard. In seconds found himself bleeding on the ground as a rough hand lifted him by the hair and dragged him into the torchlight.