@sinvention told me to…I don’t have a tip jar, but I did have some free time today, so here ya go!
This was inspired by a beautiful piece of art
Warnings: Angst, duh. Demon!Dean, hurt!Sam, Mild torture, blood. Dean’s a meanie
“Dean..” the cry is desperate. Sam’s voice is hoarse and carries with it the weight of the terror he’s been through in the last six days. His body trembles in pain.
He should have been able to cure him.
“Look at you,” Dean growls. It’s 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 Sam’s hair. Sam doesn’t 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 doesn’t.
He blinks back the pain behind his eyes, struggles to see. When his vision comes into focus, he sees that Dean’s got him on his knees in front of a very large mirror. It’s reminiscent of something tucked far away in the corner of his brain. He can’t quite reach it. The thought fades and he doesn’t chase it.
“Shoulda killed me when you had the chance, yeah?” Dean’s voice is mocking.
Sam stares at himself in the mirror. He’s naked, except for a pair of boxer briefs. His eyes are puffy and bloodshot. He’s got blood dripping down his face and his hair is sweat-damp and hanging in his face. He’s exhausted.
He’s got chains wrapped across his chest.
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.
“Are you looking, my beautiful brother?”
“De - !” Sam’s 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.
