A/N: I unfortunately don't own Jared Padalecki, Jensen Ackles, or Supernatural. 00

I also do not own Evanescence. DEAN TORTURE!! Please don't sue, this is just my idea of what could happen to Dean if he goes to H-E-L-L

Summary: When Meg said it was torture, she wasn't wrong. Dean finds out the meaning of the word torment.

Swallowed up in the sound of my screaming
Cannot cease for the fear of silent nights
Oh how I long for the deep sleep dreaming
The goddess of imaginary light

Dean Winchester strained hard against the steel straps holding him down onto the table that was currently holding him captive. Dean's face was slicked with sweat, from both the flames in hell and the struggle of trying to wiggle his way loose. The former hunter sighed when the bonds wouldn't budge, not even the slightest bit. Dean tilt his head back, and closed his hazel eyes. Sammy had actually failed. No matter what they tried, no matter what they did, Dean had been brought to hell anyway. The expression on Sam's face when the demon had come to collect Dean's soul had been the expression of a man who'd lost everything. Well, Sammy had, so his expression was in fact, a reasonable face to have put on in that situation. It surprised him when Dean saw who had come for him, although it really shouldn't have.

Azazel.

That golden eyed son of a bitch. The reason this all started in the first place. The yellow eyed demon had laughed at Dean when the man opened the door, instantly letting the blue eyes of the person he was possessing turn that familiar shade of yellow. Dean's memory flooded back to him, even when Dean tried so hard to fight against remembering that last day alive.

In my field of paper flowers
And candy clouds of lullaby
I lie inside myself for hours
And watch my purple sky fly over me

Flashback

"Sammy, today's... well, let's go somewhere." Dean said, standing up, looking at his baby brother, who was desperately looking on the internet for a way to save Dean. Still. "Dean, we can't. Today's our last shot at trying to save you from hell!" Sam snapped, looking irritable. The younger Winchester ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "You may have given up on yourself, Dean, but that doesn't mean I will." Dean sat down on the edge of the motel room bed and stared straight at his brother, who seemed to feel the gaze boring into him. Sam and Dean stared at each other. "Sam." Dean said, trying to approach the subject of his death lightly, but that never went very well. "You haven't found anything. I'm still going to hell. Sam, I do appreciate your efforts, but man... c'mon! I want to spend time with my baby brother before I go out." Sam rolled his eyes. "You make it sound like you're just going to hang around me 'cause I'm needy, and then go and have a one night stand." Dean grinned his trademark smirk. "Nah, did that last night." Sam chucked a pillow at his brother, who ducked. "You throw like a girl, Sammy." Dean admonished.

Sam folded his arms over his chest. "Dean, I promised you that we'd find a way to save you. I plan on keeping that promise." Dean rolled his eyes, "Dude, what did I tell you about--" Sam cut him off. "I know, no chick flick moments. But man, you're going to hell today! I thought you opened up a little bit after the whole jeremy and your dream thing." Dean rubbed his forehead. "I'll admit, I'm not thrilled with going to hell. I don't want to go at all... but you know why I made that deal." Sam knew. Very well. "Is there a specific time when you're going to die?" Sam asked bluntly. "It was around night last year, so I don't see why the rules would change," Dean said. Unfortunately at that moment, there was a knock on the motel door. Sam and Dean looked at each other before staring at the door in front of them with suspicion. "There's no friggin' way," Dean commented.

I linger in the doorway
Of alarm clock screaming
Monsters calling my name
Let me stay
Where the wind will whisper to me
Where the raindrops
As they're falling tell a story

If you need to leave the world you live in
Lay your head down and stay a while
Though you may not remember dreaming
Something waits for you to breathe again

Dean screamed as his flesh was torn by the whip hitting him repeatedly, over and over. "You think this is bad, boy?" A male voice hissed in Dean's ear. "The worst is yet to come." Dean was turned around and watched as the demon walked to a dark corner of the "cell". One thing about hell was, you could die from the torment and you could be brought back. No matter what they did to you, you'd still be fine later. A red hot poker nabbed Dean's wandering thoughts. "Now, pretty boy," the demon purred, bringing the wepon up close to Dean's eye. "Let's see how well you'll handle this." Dean whimpered as the poked shot forward.

An agonized screech ripped from Dean's throat as his nostrils smelled burnt eyelid and eyeball dripping down his face. "Such loud cries. Azazel was right. You are fun to torture," The demon sniggered. Dean hung low in the chains that still bound him to the table, his face down at the ground. "Aw, such a pity," The torturer mused. "You wanted to go out early. No matter," The demon quickly swirled his hands in the air, and Dean's eyes opened, both intact and Dean was relieved to see again. "How many times have I done that to you? Five times? You have such pretty eyes," The demon purred, leaning up against Dean. "Get the fuck away from me," Dean snapped, glaring at his captor. "Fuck... not a bad idea," The demon sounded like it was grinning, but dean couldn't be sure. Demons didn't have mouths, unless they were possessing a human. or whatever.

"Now Dean-o, you and I are going to have loads of kinky fun," the demon said, tugging on Dean's shirt and ripping it off, the fabric flying in every direction. Dean gulped. He had an idea of what the demon was planning on doing.

In my field of paper flowers
And candy clouds of lullaby
I lie inside myself for hours
And watch my purple sky fly over me

Dean opened the door. A man stood outside. irritated and a bit suspicious, Dean asked, "Can I help you?" The man's eyes, icy blue, turned yellow. "Yes, as a matter of fact. Someone here very recently sold their soul. I'm here to take that soul." Dean backed away from the door, eyes wide with horror. "No, you--you're in hell!" Sam stood up as well, alarmed at the scene in front of him. "You!" The younger Winchester barked upon seeing Azazel once more in their realm. "Don't worry, Sammy. I'm truly dead. I'm just an advocate to bring your brother down to join us big-leaguers." Sammy shook his head. "No--you can't! Dean's time isn't--" Azazel used his demonic powers to throw Sam against the wall and hold him there. Sam was getting really tired of this trick. "Geeze, Sam, the moment I leave you, you go all dumb dupe on me. First, Dean-o didn't have a "time limit"," Azazel said, making air-quotes; "The second, you don't have the right to tell me what I can and can't do."

"Leave him alone." Dean said. Azazel turned to him. "Oh relax. Sam here won't be harmed. It's just you I'm here for, kiddo." Dean flinched at the demon's new nickname for him. "Dean, please," Sam protested. "Sam. I can't." Dean said, and Sam was shocked to see tears flooding his brother's eyes. "Now it's time to go," Azazel said. "In a minute! I'm going to give my brother a good-bye kiss," Dean snapped sarcastically. The yellow eyed demon chuckled. "Your wit has always been amusing, Dean-o. Fine. Five minutes, and then you and I go to your new home." The yellow eyed demon sat down at the darkest corner of the room and stayed there.

Sam was released from the wall and he immediately rushed to his brother. "Dean, please, we can figure a way out, just bargain," Sam pleaded, feeling tears start in his eyes. The nightmare was really happening, then. dean was leaving forever. "Sam. Sammy," Dean said, grabbing his brother. The younger man stared at his brother for a moment. "Don't go," Sam's voice pleaded, sounding like an innocent child's. And in the older brother, something in his soul cracked. "Sam, I'm sorry. I just wanted to be with you again. You understand that, right?" Dean asked, staring at Sam. "I understand, alright. You're just like Dad. Too damned selfish to care about your own life," Sam snapped angrily, his anger covering his unhappiness at Dean's leaving.

I'm so tired of being here
Suppressed by all my childish fears
And if you have to leave
I wish that you would just leave
'Cause your presence still lingers here
And it won't leave me alone

"I'm sorry, Sam," Dean said, giving his brother a hug before pulling away, wiping away the tears building in his eyes. Azazel stood. "Time to go, Dean." Dean nodded, not giving the demon a look. "I'm ready." Sam stared at his brother for a moment. Dean mouthed the words, "I'll be back, Sammy." Then Azazel grabbed Dean's arm and the two vanished. "No, no, no!! DEAN! COME BACK PLEASE, YOU CAN'T LEAVE ME HERE ALONE!!" Sam yelled, desperate to follow his brother, but when he reached outside, there was no trace of Dean or Azazel, save for a bit of sulphur on the ground.


These wounds won't seem to heal
This pain is just too real
There's just too much that time cannot erase

Dean held his stomach, tears running down his face. Demonic rape was a bitch. Demons could go places no normal person could go. Dean closed his eyes. The pain was a bitch. And yet... it was starting to feel good... Dean shook his head, remembering Ruby's warning. Demons had been humans once. It would happen to him. Well-not if Dean could help it. Letting his pain feel good was a bad way to go. Dean scowled and opened his eyes. Hell was a bitch. Everything was a bitch. Hopefully Sammy wouldn't give up on him. Maybe he could find a way to escape hell... but that was a bunch of what-ifs. Escaping from hell was a once in a lifetime oppertunity. You had to have an idiot open up a Devil's Gate--like Jake. The thought of that night sent shivers down Dean's spine. What would Dad say if he saw me now?

When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears
When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears
And I held your hand through all of these years
But you still have
All of me

It had been at least six months since Dean's "death." Sam had stopped hunting in order to find a way to bring his brother back. Bobby had offered to help, but Sam had refused, saying he was greatful for the offer, but this was personal. Still, Bobby called at least twice a week to see how Sam's progress was going. Sam's mind was still focused on the task of "saving" his brother, and trying to find a way to do so before hell sank it's demons into Dean. Sam rubbed a hand over his forehead. Dean had been so wrecked after Dad's death... now he left me in the same position, Sam thought bitterly. In order to what, stop his guilt? I love Dean, but he has such emotional baggage on him... Sam couldn't help thinking that if they had only talked more, if Sam had been more forceful in their conversations, Dean might've opened up. Doubtful, but... Sam's what might have beens' plagued his mind each and every night.

Dean was dead.

Because of him.

You used to captivate me
By your resonating light
Now I'm bound by the life you left behind
Your face it haunts
My once pleasant dreams
Your voice it chased away
All the sanity in me

Dean's eyes were shut as he continued screaming, pleading for the torment to stop. Hoping that somewhere his prayers could be answered.

These wounds won't seem to heal
This pain is just too real
There's just too much that time cannot erase

Bobby was worried about Sam. The young man had stopped eating (unless asked to do so by Bobby) and hunting in order to find a way to save Dean. Bobby commended Sam's stubborness and was amused to think Dean might've rubbed off on Sam in more ways then one, but Bobby knew that, even if Sam did manage to get Dean back, the boy would never be the same. It was called hell for a reason. Nonetheless, Bobby would try to help all he could. For Sam's sake. And for John, Mary and Dean.


When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears
When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears
And I held your hand through all of these years
But you still have
All of me

I've tried so hard to tell myself that you're gone
But though you're still with me
I've been alone all along

When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears
When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears
And I held your hand through all of these years

The screaming finally stopped. Dean's body, although twitching, finally stopped screaming. A cold chill seemed to overcome the former hunter. Hell was breaking him. And when the young man's eyes snapped open, his irises were pure black.

But you still have
All of me

A/N: I hope Dean isn't too out of character, torture's hard for people to endure. I just wanted to do a little "what-if" drabble in case Dean actually does go to hell (which I doubt) just to see how it turned out. Please don't hate me! If you want to flame, please just... flame gently.

The songs:

My Immortal

Imaginary