AN: H'okay, so believe it or not, I had aimed to write copious amounts of fluff for my "The Problem with Pets" story, but obviously that didn't happen and this monster was born. I may have watched the episode in season 4 of Smallville where Jensen Ackles gets tortured, and the idea of that happening to Dean totally wouldn't leave me alone so I had to get it out. Also, I keep reading about people predicting that Castiel is going to go dark side and it's depressing the hell out of me. So now Dean has to pay for it, way to show him the love, right? Ok, I'm going to stop now before I get off on a rant. Anyways, enjoy! :)

Disclaimer: I own nothing, cause if I did there would be a lot more whump for everyone.

Warning(s): Un-beta'd, all mistakes are my own and I apologize in advance. Also, scenes of torture/ gore, so yeah, you've been warned!

Freezing water cascaded over his head and ran down over his aching shoulders and chest. Instinctively, he jerked on his hands, which were chained over his head, jarring his already strained shoulders. He tried to get his feet under himself quickly and managed to stand on the balls of his feet to alleviate the pressure on his upper body. Slowly he forced his eyes to open. They focused blearily on a figure tied to a chair in front of him. He could make out the concern and worry etched onto the man's face, even though he was blindfolded, as the world came further into focus. Finally his brain caught up with his body and he recognized who he was staring at.

"S'mmy." He managed to groan hoarsely. He could hear his brother's muffled shouts through the gag that was in his mouth as he jerked on his bindings. Dean tried to smile so as to reassure Sam, not processing that his brother wouldn't be able to see it. He gasped harshly as his legs gave out and all his weight was suddenly handing from his chained wrists, which were already torn and bleeding sluggishly. Try as he might, he couldn't get his feet back under himself. He whimpered softly in defeat.

"Welcome back Dean." A smooth male voice announce, as a well dressed man with dark hair walked up between the brothers, "As you've seen, we have a guest now. He's here as your… Motivation. So I'm sure you're going to be more cooperative from this point on, right Dean? We don't want anything to happen to your brother now, do we?"

Then man walked up to him and gripped his jaw painfully hard, forcing him to meet his eyes. Hazy, unfocused green met brilliant blue before they flashed black. The demon pushed Dean away, causing him to groan loudly as his body swayed. Sam was screaming through the gag again at hearing his brother in pain, earning himself a hard slap across the face that stunned him.

"Dean, it's time for us to get started again." The demon cooed, turning back to the oldest Winchester. Dean's body tensed at the implications of those words. Two demons approached them with a large cart filled with various tools and objects. They parked it next to him and began situating the equipment. After attaching several nodes to Dean's temples, chest and abdomen, one of them presented the first demon with a small remote. Smiling cruelly, he flicked the dial to the first setting. Dean's body went ridged as the electricity coursed through his muscles. When the surge was cut off, he was left panting shallowly. No longer concerned with the ache in his shoulders, he pulled himself up so he was once more standing on the balls of his feet.

"D'n't… kn'w… wh're…" He ground out, ignoring Sam's muffled cries.

"Well that's too bad Dean." The demon's voice dripped with sarcastic disappointment as it turned the dial to the half-way mark on the scale. Dean chocked out a strangled cry as his legs gave out and his body convulsed. After a seeming eternity, the demon turned the flow off. It walked up to Dean's limp body that twitched slightly every few seconds. Grabbing him by the hair roughly, it forced his head up. A whimper escaped his lips before he could stop it. He glared with unfocused eyes at the demon, clenching his jaw.

"Now Dean, how many times have we been over this the last couple days? We've got Sam now; do we need to include him in our little game here before you realize how serious we are?" The demon asked, moving aside so Dean could see his brother. The hench-demons had removed the blindfold from Sam's face. He saw first raw fear, then worry, then anger flash through his sibling's eyes. Sam started screaming what could only be threats when the taller of the two demons next to him held a tazer to his arm briefly. Dean tried to protest, but ended up uttering an undignified grunt. Jerking, Sam was left panting softly through the gag as he continued to glare at his brother's main tormentor.

"Come now, Dean. All you have to do is tell us where it is. It really isn't that hard." Releasing Dean, the demon walked over to the torture cart. After rummaging for a few minutes, it turned back towards its victim, Ruby's knife in its hands, "A little ironic, don't you think?"

It trailed the blade heavily over Dean's chest, drawing blood, as it circled to his back side and plunged it into the meat of his shoulder. Unable to hold back, Dean screamed. When the blade was twisted all the way around, he couldn't stop a second scream from escaping. He cried out hoarsely as the blade was withdrawn. The demon patted him on his injured shoulder before returning to the cart to select a new toy. Dean hung trembling, feeling his blood flown down his back as he wished for the bliss of unconsciousness.

Movement caught and drew his eyes over to Sam. If looks could kill, all three demons would have been dead five times over. Sam was trying to loosen his restraints without drawing attention to his movements, all while glaring daggers at the two demons standing guards over him. Noticing Dean was looking at him, his face softened as he turned his attention to his big brother. His concern was evident even though he tried to cover it up. Dean managed a small grimace as he read the message on his brother's face. 'It's going to be ok. We'll get out of this and kill these bastards.'

The lead demon was suddenly in front of Dean and before he knew what was happening, searing hot agony hit him. Gasping and blinking away the sweat that had begun dripping into his eyes, he saw the demon pull a heated metal rod away from the sensitive underside of his upper arm. It held up a blow torch and began heating the metal again.

"We're running out of time here Dean. While I could do this all day, every day for the rest of your life; my superiors are demanding results. So, if you're not going to tell me what I want to know, perhaps little Sammy here can." The demon walked up to Sam and pressed the heated metal to the inside of one of his legs.

"NOOO!" Dean shouted, pulling on his hands again and feeling a sickly pop as one of his shoulders dislocated itself. The world flashed white as his scream of agony joined his brother's muffled cry. Dazed by the pain, he didn't register when the demons removed the gag from Sam's mouth and started asking him what they had been asking of him earlier. The sound of several solid hits and grunts brought him back from the edge of unconsciousness.

"L-l-l've 'im… a-al'ne." He stuttered out as loudly as he could. He heard one more strike of flesh on flesh before the head demon was once more in his face.

"Still conscious are ya Dean-O? You were quiet for quite awhile there, thought you checked out again." It teased before slamming a fist into his solar plexus. His body shrieked in pain as he was left gasping for air.

"I'm going to ask you one last time, Dean. Where. Is. It?"

Before he could comprehend an answer, let alone catch his breath to respond, electricity coursed through his body once more and stronger than ever. His body locked, every muscle frozen. He couldn't breathe and black was creeping in on the edges of his vision that was already flashing white with pain. He could feel his eyes starting to roll back into his head when suddenly the current was cut, leaving him slumped and gasping with his eyes clenched shut. Something thick and coppery bubbled up from his throat and into his mouth. He vaguely heard screaming, but he was too far out of it to distinguish whose it was: Sam's, the demons', hell, it could even be him for all he knew.

There were suddenly hands on his face and he flinched away from them. The hands loosened their grip, but didn't leave his face. One them cupped his cheek while the other was gently stroked through his soaked hair. His panic died down after a few minutes and he was able to distinguish sounds again. Someone was in front of him, muttering a mantra of soothing words and promises. He could also make out the sound of spraying water, which would explain why he was drenched again. Slowly, his eyes fluttered open.

"C'mon Dean, there you go. It's ok; everything is going to be ok." The voice promised, a hand lifted his chin up gently so he could look into his savior's face. The blurry image of long brown hair and concern creased features cause him to lose control as he choked out a sob of relief.

"Hey, it's ok. They're dead, they can't hurt you anymore." Sam muttered softly, pulling his brother to his chest and cradling him there. They stayed that way until Dean's sobs quieted and he was left hiccupping softly into Sam's shoulder, who pulled back gently, "I need to go find something to cut you down with, ok? I'm not going to go far, alright? I'll be right back."

Dean couldn't stop himself from whimpering at the loss of the warmth and protection his brother's touch gave him. His whole weight hung from his hands now, but even the pain from his dislocated shoulder couldn't compare to the throbbing agony that course through his entire body. He tried to spit out the blood that coated the inside of his mouth, but it was no use as it only dribbled down his chin. Hearing sloshing footsteps approach him, his body tensed.

"It's me Dean, you're fine. I'm going to get you down now, ok?" Sam soothed after he saw Dean tense up. He sighed in relief when he saw him relax at his words.

Wrapping one arm around his brother's torso gently, he used the bolt cutters he found one handed and cut the chains holding Dean up. He quickly lowered them to the ground and positioned the older hunter so that he could catalog his injuries. Sam's heart broke as he forced himself to ignore Dean's agonized moans so that he could fully assess the wounds. He grimaced at the obviously dislocated shoulder and the opposite shoulder that bore the stab wound. The nodes there were still attached to his body had severe burns surrounding them. As gently as he could manage Sam removed them, but Dean still mewled in pain. Running a hand gently down his sides, Sam found that he had at least two broken ribs and probably more that were cracked if the bruising was any indication. Small lacerations were scattered across his arms, chest and legs, but thankfully they were already starting to scab over. Apart from the third degree burn on the underside of his arm, Sam couldn't make out any other injuries, for which he was thankful.

After debating with himself for a moment, Sam decided to go ahead and fix the problem of the dislocated shoulder.

"Alright Dean, I'm going to set your shoulder, alright? On the count of three; One, tw-" He pushed on the joint and felt it slip back into place. Dean ground out a hoarse cry, clenching his eyes shut as he rode out the paint. After it subsided from the intense bolts of pain to a stead throb of discomfort, his body relaxed completely.

"Dean? You still with me?" Sam asked, receiving a slight nod in response, "We need to get you to a hospital, you think you could use your legs if I support you?"

"No." Dean groaned, his eyes snapping open.

"Ok, that's fine. I'll just carry you then."

"No. No H'spt'l."

"What? Dean, you have to go! You're severely dehydrated, probably going into shock, and I don't know what they all did to you before I got here; there could be internal damage." Sam protested, watching his brother with deep concern.

"Too… m'ny… q'st'ns…" Dean huffed in return, pleading with his eyes. Sam bit his lip. Dean was right, with him in this condition, there was no way the police weren't going to get involved. He rubbed his hand over his face roughly and huffed a sigh.

"Alright. We'll go to Bobby's. He's got a friend who used to be a medic; we'll see what he can do. But if he says you need to go to a hospital, you're going."

Dean's lips twitched in a smile, agreeing with the terms. He let his eyes drift shut as the younger Winchester hauled him to his feet. He groaned, but was able to stop himself from crying out or making any other embarrassing noises. By the time they exited the building, Sam was half carrying, half dragging his big brother to the car. Dean's mind briefly wondered what his baby was doing there. He decided, in that moment, he didn't really care why she was there, but was just happy she was. Sam got the back door open and positioning him in the back seat before he tucked a blanket around him. A water bottle was pressed to his lips and he drank it greedily. When he was done, he felt Sam's hand run through his sweat damp hair. Leaning into the touch, he finally gave up his grip on consciousness and passed out, knowing he was safe.

"Hang on Dean, we'll get you to Bobby's in no time." Sam whispered as he closed the door and climbed into the driver's seat. Turning the ignition and throwing the car into drive, they took off for South Dakota.

()()()()()()

Consciousness was a bitch, Dean decided as his senses came back from the void. He almost felt like he was floating, but then the aches of his abused body filtered in. Groaning loudly, he opened his heavy eyelids with difficulty. He almost expected to be in a hospital room, knowing how worried Sam had been. As his eyes came into focus, he saw a fan sinning overhead with a devil's trap encasing it. He sighed in relief. Sam had taken him to Bobby's after all and he was safe in the panic room now.

"Hey, you're awake!" Sam's voice came from his right and he turned his head towards him. Sam was sitting in a chair next to him, his face was ecstatic as he leaned forwards. There were dark bags under his eyes as well as a couple days' worth of stubble, indicating he had barely left Dean's side at all.

"H-" Dean began but stopped as he started coughing dryly. As the coughing fit subsided, Sam helped him sit up and held a cup of water to his lips. When he finished, he nodded his thanks. Sam propped him up on several pillows so he wasn't flat on his back staring up at the ceiling.

"How long?" Dean croaked, noting the IV bags hanging to his left.

"Five days. You were starting to scare me man." Sam admitted, scrubbing a hand over his face, "How you feeling?"

"Not too shabby." Dean lied, wincing as he tried to shift his weight.

"So pretty shity, but not what it was."

Damn little brother being able to read him so well, "Yeah."

They were quiet for awhile after that. Dean had started to doze off when Sam spoke up again.

"So, uh, what all happened before I got there?"

Dean turned his face away from his brother, "I-I don't, I can't. N-not yet, Sammy." He stuttered hoarsely, feeling tears gather in the corners of his eyes. He couldn't figure out why he was getting emotional over this, it's not like something like this had never happened before.

"Hey, it's ok. I'm sorry. You can tell me whenever you're ready to, no rush."

Dean brought a heavily bandaged hand up stiffly and wiped away the wetness from his face before turning to face his brother.

"How'd they get you?" He asked, moving the conversation along.

"Actually, I found them." Dean gave him a hard look, demanding more of an explanation.

"I figured out where they were holding you, so naturally I had to go after you. I know it was stupid for me to do it without any back up, but they had already had you for three days. I snuck in and turned the sprinkler water into Holy water and put a timer on it to go off after an hour. And when I caught a glimpse of you, I had to hand myself over to them in hope that they'd focus more on me. I hid a small knife in my watch band, so after the sprinklers went off, I cut myself loose and killed the demons with Ruby's knife."

Dean huffed a laugh, "Sounds like something I'd do." Sam opened his mouth to respond, but Dean held up his hand, "Thanks Sam, for coming and saving my sorry ass."

"You're my big brother Dean, what else was I going to do?" He grasped Dean's hand and squeezed it reassuringly. Dean squeezed back, smiling slightly at his little brother. They sat like that for several minutes before Dean retracted his hand.

"That's enough chick-flick action for one day. Wouldn't happen to have any painkillers on ya, would you?" Sam smiled as he rose from his chair and walked over to a near-by table where he picked up a syringe. He made his way over to the IV drip and inserted the needle into the port and injected the contents.

"It's the good stuff." Sam told him, capping the needle, "It's going to kick in quick, so try and get some rest will you, you look like crap."

"R'ght b'ck at ya, S'm." Dean slurred out before his head dropped to the side and he started snoring softly. Sam shook his head at his brother and smiled. Running a hand through his hair, he moved towards the door of the panic room. Glancing back at Dean's resting form he knew things were going to be fine. Everything would go back to normal. Well, as normal as it could be for the Winchester brothers.

AN: I don't know, not the best ending in the world, but it works. I honestly thought this was just going to be a 1k+ blurb, but it took on a life of its own and turned into this. Hopefully I'll be able to get back to my fluff now. :)