Sam tried to hold back the tears, but couldn't.

He felt the wet sting of them on his lips as the whip broke through his skin again, lash after lash tearing through his flesh.

He had never felt a greater physical pain.

"For Dean, for Dean" he kept mumbling to himself, as the smell of fresh blood rose in the air.

He closed his eyes and imagined what it would be like to finally see his brother again.

He pictured cold beer, sarcastic remarks, and Dean's smile.

But most of all he pictured a healed heart.

And the pain disappeared.