So this is the start of a very long fic. I have already planned out about 10,000 words, but I have to piece all the parts together and add some more to the beginning. I would very much appreciate it if I could get some feedback, but my updates will not be dependent on them. I would just like to point out that I am planning on making my chapters much longer than this, but at the moment I am still writing the next part, so I only have this much. Think of this as a teaser, if you will.
N.B. I own nothing but my own twisted mind. (And sometimes I doubt that as well...).
The last thing he could remember was the pain. The most intense pain he had ever felt, it was worse than anything he had felt when alive.
But that made sense. Hell was all about pain, that was the point. But he knew that, had known that when he made the deal to save Sam.
The problem was, he hadn't really known what he was in for. He could still feel Alistair's blades. At the moment, that was a non-issue. He had fought out of his grave, but that wasn't the last of it. He now had to convince Sam and Bobby that he was the same man that had left. That was going to be hard with everything he had been through.
A ruling-level demon couldn't just flip a switch and turn human again, especially one with basically no control over his new powers. He could, at best, control the emotions that controlled his powers, not the powers themselves. He could handle the physical changing part of his new self, but that didn't count. If he couldn't control the emerald flames and a whole slew of other powers, the physical stuff would be a non-issue anyways.
I have to get through this, Dean thought as he travelled toward the abandoned looking gas station, if only for Sammy's sake. If only for Sam.