Dean's eyes lighten at the sudden realization. He struggles to speak the name incredulously but is unable to get out more than a muffled, "hooovveee."
The demon snickers, rubbing one hand on Dean's cloth covered chest in an attempt to elicit sensual thoughts and feelings. Then other hand holds the poker steady, mere inches from his eyes.
"And this would be all it takes too; I wouldn't even have to touch your pretty eyes, my love. The heat alone would do it."
"Hoolllleeee, stuf pft!" Dean screams into the gag that is preventing his words from coming and glares at the demon with all the venom he can muster, his eyes a burning pool of deep green to the point of being almost black.
The demoness backs away from Dean in a coy manner, her index finger sliding down her lips seductively, mocking in her voice that drips like acid on the skin, burning away layers and causing pain.
"Oh, so you remember me now? Gee, what was it Dean, 4 years or so of torture? And you freakin' forget about me? Dammit, boy, you sure better remember now. I'm gonna be the last thing you ever see! Holly. You know, sweet girl, got conned into selling my soul when I was young and foolish. Came down to hell and got to be one of your first practice rounds. Alistair sure loved you when you turned into his little bitch. "
Sam looks over at Dean, confusion and sorrow on his face. Although Dean could only see Sam's eyes and nose he knew that pissy look. There were questions in his brown eyes and he didn't want to answer them now. Sam had known some of what had happened in hell, but he didn't know everything.
That's it, boys. I want you to hate each other and hate me as much as I hate you both. God, this is the best thing ever. Too bad it's in this sad sack of shit. I want to grab his liver right out of his body. Make him eat it. With fava beans, haha! I grinned at my own joke.
"Figures, though. I looked a bit different on the rack, didn't I? Flayed alive again and again and again! All that muscle and blood and bone exposed! Dripping out my innards as you grabbed them up and torn them out of me or stepped on them. Shit you were good with a knife; got so good you could remove all the skin in one piece so you had a Holly throw rug. Do you miss it, boy? Do you miss all the hatred you could muster being poured out onto the souls of the damned. Oh, you were a serious talent, with your scarred body and artful hands. You resisted longer then I did, of course. Thirty years and it only took me four to break and get off the rack."
Sam and Dean feel the full effect of the drug Holly had given them now. The bright light from the fire causes their eyes to water and skin to burn. They feel the need to move and yet movement is what brings them pain. Still, they struggle against the restraints. Sam manages to get hold of his knife and begins the horrid task of cutting away the rope, the weight of the knife itself almost too difficult to bear.
Holly rushes up to Dean and sits on his lap, causing his hips to scream in pain as the pressure seems to force every blood vessel inside to break and to tear every muscle. She yanks off the gag and presses her lips to his mouth in a violent kiss. He tries to pull away from the anguish he's feeling but she bites down on his lip, drawing blood.
I could rip off his whole frickin' lip with one quick jerk. That would really make my day.
Holly slowly draws out a knife hidden inside her boot. She traces it lightly over Dean's skin and then reaches out her arm to slide it across Sam's arm and leg and face. Both boys shudder from the normally gentle and sensuous touch, which is like being gutted at this point.
She starts to sway over Dean's lap, mocking his normally playboy self with this parody of lust.
"What? Don't want a lap dance today? Should I take it further? How about all the times you raped me in hell, Dean? I know, I know, it was just payback for all the times it was done to you. Life's a bitch and then you die. Only in hell, you come back for more and more. You offered me my own head on a stick! I remember that. I remember when you beat me, whipped me, torn into me. I'd be down to nothing be a brain stem before I would become whole again."
Dean's eyes fill with tears at the memories, offering no words in his defense.
"Not so tough now, huh, big man on hell's campus!"
Finally, Dean chokes out two simple words, "I'm sorry," and he breaks down.
Holly continues to smile ruthlessly but she rises up off of his lap.
"I was someone too, I deserved saving more than your ass. But YOU were the one the angels came for, not me. But I crawled out of hell. Oh yes, I did. On my frickin' hands and knees until I could reach here and now. And I vowed to get the soul that had made me pay for my sins. Alistair made you a real piece of work, buster. But when I was turned he took me under his wing too. Let's see who the better student was?"
She walks over to Sam, giving him a slap across the face, which loosens the rag tied around it, and then she heads out the door to her car where more of her horrendous torture devices are stored.
"Dean, it wasn't your fault! It was Hell! Why didn't you tell me about it?" Sam questions Dean between deep gasping breaths of fresh air. Even the act of speaking causes his throat to feel as if it is being scrubbed down by a toilet cleaner with bleach.
"You think I want my baby brother to know shit like this? To know what a real monster I was while I was there? How much I enjoyed gutting and killing the soul and the very essence of people? Because they were people, just like me, Sam! How can I judge her now? I mean, we've got to get you out of here, but me, I deserve this. It's just payback for all that I've done! How can you even love me or respect me knowing this?" Dean hangs his head in shame, waiting for the outpouring of rage from his younger brother, but nothing comes.
Sam stares at Dean for a moment before saying three forgiving words, "You're my brother."