Author's Note: This was written for Enkidu07/Onyx Moonbeam's Weekly Drabble Challenge.

Episode: Not written for any Specific Episode.

Players: Enkidu07, Mad Server, Onyx Moonbeam, IheartSam7, Orange Autumn, NC Girl, Nana56, MuffyMorrigan, mahtalie, Sherry Darling, supernaturalsammy67, Twinchy, twinchaosblade, PADavis, InSecret, deangirl1, Supernoodle, Vanessa Sgroi, moonlight80, Chailyn, Dream Painter, Thru Terry's Eyes, writergirl94, sweetysmart0505, silver ruffian, letting the rain in, xFaithyx, Dreadedfemale, DeansBabyBird, PlatinumRoseLady, SciFiRN, Vampyr4lyfe, TheDarklighter, jasper03, sweetysmart0505

Challenge Word: Lash

Takes place in season three.

**Author's Note** Ok, so this turned into a short story more than a drabble, but I couldn't help myself. Sorry it's so darn long, I hope you enjoy it if you do take the time to read it.

The demon uncoiled the snake-like whip from around his arm, a evil-looking barb attached to the tip. Sam was lashed in the corner to a chair, watching the scene before him, knowing that what was happening to Dean would soon happen to him. Dean's back was bared, his arms tied around a pole. The demon chuckled, "I've got the infamous Winchester brothers, hard to believe how easy it was to get you both here, in my lair."

Suddenly the whip was thrown back over his shoulder then forced forward, hurtling with tremendous speed at Dean's back. "Snap!" The whip made a horrid cracking noise as it struck flesh. Again and again the lashes struck Dean's skin. The demon laughed as Dean screamed in pain. The whip pulled bits of flesh from his back, and each lash was more devastating than the last. Dean's back was a bloody mess, ripped open from the continuous bombardment of the whip. Sam hollered at the demon, but all his shouts were in vain, yet he continued for he couldn't stand seeing his brother in that much agony. Dean's lashing continued, his screams mingling with snobs, tearing at his throat, "Please, stop, you evil bastard! Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!" Still, the whipping continued, his back bleeding in a crisscross pattern, sweat dripping into the wounds, making them sting even more. The raw mass of flesh had been dug deep and left Dean whimpering.

The demon turned to Sam next. "Your turn," he grinned. Sam blanched at the thought. Dean, however, had other plans. "More. I can take it you evil son of a bitch! I'll take his turn." "Very well," the demon said despite Sam's protests. Soon Dean's entire back had been stripped of flesh, all that was left was exposed muscle, painfully flayed until the blood flowed freely, deep gashes still visible in the sinew, revealing white bone. " 's ok Sammy," Dean muttered before passing out from blood loss.

"Dean!" screamed Sam, struggling to access his abilities. Suddenly a "switch" seemed to flip and Sam severed his bindings and forced the demon in the corner. He pulled out the demon-killing knife and ran at the demon, plunging the knife into his chest repeatedly for what it had done to Dean. When he was sure that it was dead and gone he turned to Dean, tears in his eyes. He quickly cut the rope from around his arms and caught Dean as he fell away from the pole, almost dropping him as his hands slipped, slick from Dean's blood-covered back. "I'll get you to the hospital Dean, I promise," Sam whispered fiercely into Dean's hair, cradling his head and gathering the limp body up. "I'm sorry about the Impala, but you're more important," his voice cracked as he spoke the words, laying Dean on the backseat of the car and rushing down the road searching for a blue hospital sign as tears filled his eyes. Dean moaned in the back and the bitter, metallic smell of blood filled the Impala. Sam sighed when he finally saw the arrow pointing out the hospital in the area. That was Dean's job, since he drove, finding out where all the local hospitals and police departments and such were. When Sam finally pulled into the ambulance bay doctors came out yelling for him to move the car. They stopped once they saw Sam lifting Dean up. He placed his big brother gently on the gurney they provided. "Help my brother, please." Sam spoke the words, but tears and bile made his words nearly unintelligible to the doctors. Dean was on his stomach, being wheeled away into the ER, the doctors already working to replace the blood lost and save Dean's life. "You can't die on me Dean," wept Sam, "We still need to get you out of your deal, you still have a little less than a year…not like this, please. Not like this. We were supposed to have more time together." The only response to Sam's plea was the swish of the ER bay doors opening and closing.