Supernatural does not belong to me, although I wish it did. I am simply playing in Kirpke's sandbox for a bit. All rights and ownership are the property of Kripke and the CW network. I am not making any money from this; it is for my own personal pleasure.

Synopsis: Set at the start of Season One, Dean had been in a wheelchair since his father disappeared more than a year ago and he finally has to tell Sam… There'd been an accident that night and Dean had paid a very high price….one he still doesn't understand. The story will have some hunts from season one and possibly into season two…the brothers will continue their search for their father…there will be alterations to the hunts to accommodate Dean's new situation. I have every intention of returning Dean to good health before this ends…but getting there is going to be bumpy.

Please keep in mind that I do not have a Beta, so all grammatical errors are my own. Not Slash. Brotherly love and Angst only…

Please Review: So I know there's interest

Chapter 59

Tormented

Torture can take many forms. The typical fire brimstone that Hollywood portrayed or a line that never ends and you do is wait, forever. But none of that is true for Dean Winchester. Because Hell isn't a place for him, it's the loss of a person. The one person that he loves beyond sanity and reason. He'd known the instant his father set the swaddled baby on his tiny four-year-old lap that his life would never be the same. And when that baby had looked up at him with big almond shaped blue-green eyes, he'd been lost.

Life hadn't been easy after that. Their small family lost the anchor that kept them pointed toward true north when Mary had died. But no one had paid as hefty a price for her death as Dean. Sammy was too young to know her, but Dean remembered. He knew what it was like to have someone love him just for being him. And because of that unconditional love, he learned how to give himself over to his family, unconditionally.

But along the way something else had happened. Dean's father had taken that devotion and unrestrained affection and used it as a weapon to control him. It had been horrifying to learn that his father didn't care about him. That his only role in the family was to 'protect his little brother'. Not that that bothered Dean. He would have done anything to keep Sammy safe.

And so within the confines of his own Hell, the worst thing that could happen to him was his inability to not only save Sam, but to be the harbinger of his death…

"Sammy! Get down!" Dean screamed. He watched in abject horror as his bullet ripped through the air and tore into his little brother's chest. Time seemed to stand still and Sam raised shocked blue-green eyes as the air gurgled in his lungs before dropping to his knees. Crimson blossomed across his broad chest and his expression shifted to fear as his trembling hand grasped at thin air.

It was Dean's worst nightmare playing out in vivid Technicolor and he found that his feet were frozen and his lungs refused to expand. There was a buzzing inside his head that was drowning everything else out as he stared in horror. His father's words boomed through the air around him and Dean ducked out of shear reflex. The expectation of a flying fist was too much for his tightly honed reflexes to ignore.

"You had one job, Dean! One fucking job and you couldn't even get that right!" John's words hammered down on Dean and he struggled under the weight of his own failure. "Protect Sammy!" It was all around him pressing him toward the jagged stones under his body. The sheer terror at what he'd done, it was like being inside an avalanche of guilt.

Dean forced his green eyes up and saw the unrestrained fear reflecting out of Sam's gaze. And from somewhere deep inside he found the will and strength to scramble over the rocks toward his little brother. Dean didn't recognize where he was. It didn't occur to him that they were at the salvage yard or that none of this was making sense. The only thing that mattered was making it to Sammy before he felt forward into the gravel. He reached him just as Sam tipped forward, his arms going limp and his eyes catching Dean's in a vacant stare.

Soul crushing despair pulled an inhuman cry from somewhere deep inside Dean. As he knelt in the rocks with his head thrown back and the dead weight of his little brother, Dean knew what Hell was. Because it wasn't the fire and brimstone that every major religion sold their constituents…no…it was causing the death of the one person in the world that loves you. Tears streamed down his face and Dean found that he didn't care. Nothing mattered without Sam. His hands shook as he held Sam's limp body against his own.

And then the scene reset and Dean was once again the instrument of his brother's death. Over and over he killed Sam and it was never the same way twice. The worst thing about hell? It's designed to break a person down to their most raw personality traits. Dean Winchester was a protector and the mere fact that he couldn't protect Sam was the absolute worst thing that could have been done to him. This one act was unraveling him at his very core.

Every time he caused Sam's death a small piece of Dean died. The worst thing that a person living in Hell can be given is hope. Because you can learn to deal with the pain and the horror, but there's no way to kill that tiny little spark that this time…this time will be the last time and escape is on the horizon.

XXXX

Sam stared in shock at the landscape of Dean's mind. It was a colorful array of hills and valleys and it didn't look anything like he would have guessed it would. Sparkling water ran in gurgling playful stream through the eerily colorful valley. A bright yellow sun cast warm light down over the picturesque scene. Trees heavy with every fruit known to man scattered over the hills and meadows. But there was something wrong with the valley too. It was too perfect, too beautiful to be real and that confused Sam.

Dean Winchester was a dark soul. He always had been and that had been no secret to his younger brother. But as Sam stared out at the recesses of his brother's mind he wondered if he'd really even known his brother at all. Because this was a hell of thing to hide. This valley reflected hope and that was something that Sam thought had been beaten out of his brother years ago. Oh not by the beatings their father bestowed upon the eldest Winchester son, but by the constant emotional oppression of life. The loss of their mother and the loss of innocence had turned the two boys into shells of what they could have been. At least that was how Sam had always looked at it. A raw deal. He and Dean had been handed a shitty situation and no way to escape.

Then came that damn deal with the coven. Dean's life force being stolen for god knew what and the resulting incapacity of his wheelchair. Guilt flooded through him at the mere thought of Dean's time spent alone in that damn contraption. He'd managed to walk away from their lives as hunters, but that had also meant walking away from Dean. Sam would forever regret that decision.

He couldn't even think about the good times he'd had in college. Because when he did, he was instantly reminded of Dean's absence and what he was going through while Sam was attending parties and classes.

Yet somehow his stubborn older brother had hung onto his hope of a better life. Sam sighed and ran his hand through his hair before casting his eyes skyward. "Where are you, Dean?" He whispered softly.

"He isn't here you know." A woman's voice interrupted Sam's musings and he spun around coming face to face with a young blonde woman. Her soft brown eyes were full of sorrow as she too looked out on the beautiful meadows and colorful flowers. She was wearing a white tank top and blue jeans shoved into tall black boots. The wind was picking softly at her hair and she had an almost ethereal light surrounding her.

"Jo." Sam said simply.

Her gaze was cast out into the distance and she simply nodded in his direction. "Sam." She answered evenly. There was a long pause before she turned to look at him fully. "You're here to help him?"

He nodded as he tried to wrap his brain around the strangeness that was Dean. He didn't know that his brother was carrying a torch for Jo. In fact he had been pretty certain that his older brother barely tolerated the daughter of the roadhouse. But here she was inside Dean's perfect day, so there must be more there than he realized. "I don't how to find him." The lush green grass whipped gently at his ankles and a bird chirped in the distance. He felt as though he was admitting defeat before he'd even tried to start the journey.

"Don't you?" Jo tilted her blonde head and the light glinted off her shiny golden locks. There was a certain mischievousness to her comment that had Sam staring at her in question. She arched an elegant eyebrow. "Sam, you know Dean better than anyone. Where would he hide? Where would he go to punish himself?"

"Punish himself?" Sam asked in concern.

Jo smiled sadly and spread her arms wide. "Do you think that this is Dean's heaven?"

Sam looked around the valley and felt his shoulders slump. Why hadn't he seen it? How had he missed that this would be a fate worse than death for his brother? To see all the beauty of the world and yet never be a part of it would have torn at his sensitive older brother.

"This is Dean's hell, Sam. The perfect life. The one that he could never have." She turned and looked at him again. "The one he wanted for you."

That stopped Sam's wandering thoughts and his mouth dropped open in surprise. "Me?"

She rolled her eyes and tilted her head to the side like she was explaining something to a very small child. "Dean wanted to give you this. His so called 'perfect life'. But life isn't that kind. So he did the best he could with what he had to work with and—"

"—And I crushed it when I left." Sam finished solemnly. Was it even possible for him to feel any worse about his decision to leave? Ever since he'd knocked on that door to the motel he'd been in a constant state of turmoil over his decision. He wanted to laugh at the situation, but nothing about this was funny.

"He doesn't blame you, you know." Jo said simply. She reached up and ran her fingers down Sam's face and let her hand drop to his chest. Her palm splayed where his heart was and her long fingers tapping softly against the solid muscle. "He forgave you before the door closed."

Sam licked his lips and let his chin fall forward as he took in what she'd said. Dean might not blame him, but he sure as hell blamed himself. He tried to think of a response to her statement, but nothing came to him. For a man with so many words at his disposal he felt as though he didn't comprehend the language at all.

"Go save your brother, Sam Winchester." She said before evaporating like a wisp of smoke.

XXXX

The light was fading when Sam finally made it to the salvage yard. The chain link fencing was rusted from years of exposure to the unyielding weather of South Dakota. It was like the seasons had changed instantly. The grass was no longer green and lush, but brown and brittle. There was grayness to the sky that spoke of the coming winter. The wind didn't nip gently at his skin; it now pulled cruelly at his clothes and caused his arms to prickle with the biting cold. It was almost like his brother's mind knew what he was there to do and it was trying to stop him.

A howl of despair drew his attention and Sam squinted into the darkness. "You'd think you could at least leave the lights on." He muttered as he climbed numbly over the outer most fence. He dropped down into the dirt and winced when his ankle twisted slightly. "Ah, come on." He groaned at the light pain now emanating from his leg.

He pushed that down and glanced around for any sign of his brother.

"Sam!" Dean's voice ripped through the air like a banshee's scream.

Sam's insides twisted in fear. He didn't know what was happening to his brother to cause him to sound so…broken. "Dean?!" He called out desperately. He wasn't sure what he'd expected when called to Dean, but silence hadn't been it. And that scared him more than anything else.

"Did you really think it would be so easy, Sammy?" John's voice cut through the darkness and Sam spun around to see his father standing in front of the second gate. "God, you're even more naïve than your idiot brother."

"He's not an idiot." Sam growled out.

John laughed cruelly as he stalked back and forth on the other side of the gate, like a caged beast. "I always thought you were the special one. But that isn't true is it? You're just a selfish son of a bitch."

His father's words cut and festered as the man threw salt on the wounds he'd gashed open. "You left Dean. You left me. He suffered and it's your fault Sam. You could've saved him. But you've never loved your brother as much as he loved you. He was a convenient friend when you wanted one and in the way when you didn't. You resented his commitment to the job. To me. So you left him. Because he wasn't worth your time or effort."

"That's not true!" Sam cried out.

"You sure about that, boy? Are you positive that you didn't want to just get away from your brother and live a normal happy life?" John's voice shifted to Sam's own and he recognized a conversation he'd had with Bobby when he'd been about ten. "Did you know Dean heard that whole conversation?"

Sam swallowed at that.

"Oh, you didn't, did you. Yeah, he'd come down for a glass of water…"

Suddenly Sam was standing in Bobby's kitchen watching a scene play out.

XXXX

"I hate this, Bobby. I just want to go to school and live a normal happy life." Sam's young voice was full of sorrow as he stared at the glass of milk and the untouched cookies.

Sam's eyes were drawn to the entryway. There hidden in the shadows was a fourteen-year-old version of his brother.

Dean was hunched over; his arms wrapped around his rips and his face a mottled array of colorful bruising. But it was his eyes that caught Sam's attention. They were hollow and empty. He let his gaze drop to the floor before slowly turning and heading back to the stairs and the room that he and Sam shared on the second floor.

Sam followed him up the stairs and found himself wincing with every step his injured brother took. It was slow going before they finally reached the second floor and Dean quietly slipped inside their room. But he didn't go to his bed like Sam had thought he would. Dean limped to the window and stared out into the starry night. His face was haunted by what he'd heard his brother say in confidence.

"I'll never be enough, will I Sammy?" Dean whispered his thoughts and Sam cringed.

"You're supposed to be sleeping." The sound of John's voice pulled both Dean and older-Sam's attention.

It was obvious that he'd been drinking. His entire body language read as belligerent as he stalked into the room. He carefully closed the door behind him. "Judging by todays hunt, it seems as though you need more training." The words were drawled together with liquor and anger.

"I'll be better." Dean said softly. He didn't look his father in the eyes anymore. He'd learned that lesson long ago. His gaze remained on the floor as John closed the distance between them.

He grabbed Dean's chin in a painful grip and yanked his head up forcing his eldest son to look at him. He bit back the cry of pain that immediately flooded to the surface. "Damn straight you'll be better." John ground out. He shoved Dean's face as he let go and the young man stumbled as his bruised body refused to respond quickly enough. "We're going to run through the drills so you don't let this happen again."

Dean's green eyes flashed up and Sam saw fear hiding in their mossy depths. "Dad, I can't." He said quietly.

Anger flooded through John and he grabbed Dean's arm. "Do you think a monster is gonna care if you have a booboo? What if it was trying to kill Sammy? Would you just stand there and watch because you fell down and scraped your knee?"

Sam watched in rising horror as his father used Dean's protectiveness over him as a way to push him into doing something that he shouldn't do. He saw the shock and horror wash across Dean's face at their father's words. And then Sam saw Dean straighten and bite down on his pain before setting up for drill one. "Dean don't do this." Sam said. He knew that he was again seeing a memory and that he wouldn't be able to interfere. But knowing that his brother had just overheard him saying that he wanted to leave and now his fierce loyalty forcing him to act on Sam's behalf was almost more than he could stand.

For the next twenty minutes he watched as his father beat his brother through the ten drills. Dean wasn't fast enough or strong enough at the moment to perform them correctly and John was quick to 'educate' him on the proper technique. He was careful to never hit Dean in the face, but if his brother's ribs hadn't been broken when this started, they definitely were now.

They both heard the footsteps coming down the hallway at the same time. John turned an icy glare on Dean and he limped to his bed and crawled in without another word. The pain pills were on the nightstand and before he turned to leave, John stooped down and grabbed them. "You can have these when you've earned them."

Dean didn't utter a single word. But the pain was written all over his face as John reached down and pressed on his chest. Agony lanced through the eldest Winchester and he bit through his lip trying to keep from crying out. "I'm making you stronger, Dean." John said as he released the pressure a moment later. He looked toward the window where Sam was standing and his eyes flashed black. It was only a fraction of a second, but Sam saw it and he gulped back his anger.

Just then the door opened and young-Sam walked into the room. He stopped short when he saw his father picking up the empty glass. "Just giving your brother some pain meds. Try and keep it down, he's asleep." John said as he walked past and ruffled Sam's brown hair affectionately.

Sam's eyes shifted to his brother and he sighed before moving to his own bed and crawling in. "Night Dean." He said softly, not expecting an answer.

"Night Sammy."

XXXX

Sam had known that their father had treated them differently. He'd known that Dean was expected to be perfect in his application of the skills that their father was teaching them. But he hadn't known what happened when his brother wasn't…perfect. And now he could feel the burn of tears as he realized just how awful their childhood had been for his brother.

"He always did that. He always trained that much harder or worked through that much more pain; and it was always for you." John said as he saw clarity reflecting out of Sam's eyes. "You were the key to training him then and you're the key to destroying him now."

"You're not him." Sam said through clenched teeth. He was trying desperately not to let the apparition's words bother him. But something inside of him was screaming that this was Dean's mind! Which meant that his brother must think this…at least on some level.

"No. I'm not your father. But I am your brother." John's face shifted to Deans and Sam's eyes widened in shock. His brother's face was beaten all to hell. But it was the dead unfeeling eyes that would forever haunt his dreams. The thing staring at him wasn't his brother. It wasn't Dean…it couldn't be. The eyes were obsidian black and full of rage and hate.

"You left me, Sammy." He moved toward Sam, his gate was a broken limp and his hands curling into fists at his sides. "He hurt me because you hurt him. I spent the last year in the fucking wheelchair because of you." Dean spat out. The venom filled words hit home for Sam and his eyes burned with unshed tears. "All that I have suffered was to save you! And none of it. None of it! Mattered."

"That's not true Dean. I love you. I always have." Sam responded softly.

The thing standing across from him laughed. It was a hollow tight sound that was nothing like the hearty laughter of his older brother. Sam cringed at the sound. "You only care about yourself, Sam."

"That's not true."

"You sure about that?" Dean's eyes flashed back to green and the hurt was so evident that it cut Sam's heart to ribbons.

Another soul ripping cry echoed through the salvage yard. It was Dean's…and he was in pain. Sam's eyes flashed around him and he was surprised to find himself completely alone. He quickly moved toward the noises emanating from the backside of the yard.

"No, Sammy! Stop!" The echo of brother's words tore at him and Sam rushed into the last garage that Bobby had worked in. It was the one where Dean had restored the Impala when they'd been younger. He didn't know how he knew it. But Sam was certain that Dean would be there. Maybe it was the desperation in his brother's voice. Or maybe it was the unrelenting despair, either way; Sam knew he'd tracked his brother to his own personal prison.

TBC…

Author's Note: I got drawn into the intricacies of how Dean might create his own hell. Granted this is with the help of the demon, but it's still coming from Dean. I should have the next chapter up later this week. Can Sam save Dean? And if he does, what will be left of the brother that sacrificed everything for him? And now that Dean has 'technically' been to Hell, does that mean that the demons can execute their plan? I know it's full angst and guilt, but that's what I write. And I think that to work through the hidden anger and betrayal, Sam needs to know what Dean went through. Even if Dean would take that knowledge to his grave. That's all coming up. Thanks for all the reviews and taking the time to read!

Please Review: Love to hear what you guys think.