@sinvention told me toâŠI donât have a tip jar, but I did have some free time today, so here ya go!Â
This was inspired by a beautiful piece of art
Warnings: Angst, duh. Demon!Dean, hurt!Sam, Mild torture, blood. Deanâs a meanie
 âDean..â the cry is desperate. Samâs voice is hoarse and carries with it the weight of the terror heâs been through in the last six days. His body trembles in pain.Â
He should have been able to cure him.
âLook at you,â Dean growls. Itâs still his voice, the same voice that once comforted him. The same one that got him through multiple nightmares - but there are cruel intentions behind it now. He repeats himself, running his fingers through Samâs hair. Sam doesnât mean to, but he leans into the touch. The soft drag turns into a sharp yank and Sam cries out.
Sam looks up. He knows what Dean (not Dean) will do now if he doesnât.
He blinks back the pain behind his eyes, struggles to see. When his vision comes into focus, he sees that Deanâs got him on his knees in front of a very large mirror. Itâs reminiscent of something tucked far away in the corner of his brain. He canât quite reach it. The thought fades and he doesnât chase it.Â
âShoulda killed me when you had the chance, yeah?â Deanâs voice is mocking.
Sam stares at himself in the mirror. Heâs naked, except for a pair of boxer briefs. His eyes are puffy and bloodshot. Heâs got blood dripping down his face and his hair is sweat-damp and hanging in his face. Heâs exhausted.
Heâs got chains wrapped across his chest.Â
They snake down around his torso and wrap back up and around his neck. Sam sees that Dean has an end of the chain in each hand and he grins, looking his younger brother in the eye through the mirror before his eyes shimmer into blackness.
âAre you looking, my beautiful brother?â
âDe - !â Samâs cry is cut short and he gasps as the chain tightens around his neck.
He desperately fights it, but the edges of reality disappear and he fades into the soft blackness.
