Hey guys, so while re-watching some episodes with my sister, I had an idea, what if Dean never actually escaped from Hell, what if Cas's rescue mission went wrong. he dreams Dean had after escaping Hell, what if they were reality and Dean only imagined getting out and all of the events that followed, well given the season 9 finale, it seems that whether Dean got out or not, the outcome is the same (if you haven't seen season 9 please don't read on!)

anyways I hope you enjoy! (and if anything doesn't make sense please just ask, though the next chapter should clear up any questions :) )

amber xx

Hell was just as bad as Deans worst nightmares; each and every one of his fears rolled up into one. It wasn't the torture that got to him- he could deal with pain, he had a fair bit of experience with it. It wasn't the realisation that he would never see the people he loved again that tore a chasm in his chest. It wasn't even that he was on a one way path to becoming one of the monsters he'd spent his whole life fighting to kill...

No. it was the fact that there was nothing he could do about it. He was helpless. He was fighting a battle he had already lost and he knew it, but God knew he wasn't going to go down without a fight.

Every day passed the same as the last. They would slice and tear at him, slowly, carving away at his skin, savouring every cry of pain like it was a symphony, as they ripped through muscle tissue, sawing bluntly through each individual nerve. agony. As they roughly tore open his ribs ,like wrapping paper, snapping his bones like twigs. Hacking away at him until there was nothing left. Then he'd be whole again and they would start over. An endless cycle of torment.

Screams of agony tore though him almost constantly, but they melded with those of the other damned souls, merging together, amplified. It wasn't that there was noone to hear them scream, it was quite the opposite, there were too many. After a while it become impossible to distinguish his own cries from the others around him. So many souls, so much pain. That's all there was there; Pain.

He discovered that you could still sleep in Hell, but the screams wove through his dreams, shadows and darkness seeping in from every corner of his mind. No rest for the wicked...

Dean learned to identify the different demons as time went by, there was one in particular that stood out from the others, his name was Alistair. He was much stronger than many of the demons he and Sam had fought, he had an air of command about him. And for some reason this demon had taken a particular shine to him. Every day without fail, Alistair would make him an offer, Dean could get off the rack, they would stop the torture, no more pain, if only he would put souls on, if he started the torture. Every time Dean told the black eyed son of a bitch to stick it where the sun don't shine.

After 30 years Dean felt his resolve beginning to waver, he prayed for help, for strength to carry on. He thought once he had heard someone speak to him.

He started hearing things, in his mind. A voice that wasn't his own.

"Help is coming" the voice said and he could have sworn he heard the sound of wings, Dean waited and waited, clinging the small hope of rescue while demons slashed and tore at him. But time passed and no help came and Dean eventually passed it off as wishful thinking, there was noone coming, there was no getting out of this place. Maybe he was just losing his mind...maybe he already had...

30 years turned to 40 and Dean was on the verge of giving in, every day Alistair's offer became more and more appealing.

What would it matter if he said yes? He'd be torturing souls, true, but if he didn't do it some demon would do it anyway...

But 40 years into his sentence, Dean started to have dreams. Not like the nightmares he had been plagued with since he first arrived. These were different, far more vivid, almost like memories and something impossible happened, Dean was saved.

Not physically. But in his dreaming moments, He saw himself escape Hell, rescued by angels.

Dean knew it wasn't real, he would wake up and he'd still be on that rack but it felt real and it didn't stop there he saw everything; Angels, demons, the devil, the apocalypse, purgatory, Sam, Bobby, Ellen, Jo...

In those moments, he often found himself wondering where reality truly was, it was almost as though Hell was the dream. If only...

They weren't happy dreams, he watched his friends die over and over. Grief, pain, disappointment, betrayal. No, it wasn't happy, but in his dreams he was alive, if only for a little while and that kept him going, day after day, month after month, year after year after year, he clung to those dreams, to those he loved, they kept him human, they helped endure the torture. No matter how bad the dreams where, he'd have given anything for them to be real, they reminded him of why he was here, why he was still fighting and what it meant to be human.

He grasped the images in his mind, they were his distraction, his anchor to humanity.

There was one person above all who stood out from the others, he was more vivid than anyone, the angel. His angel, Castiel. He was the main reason he carried on fighting as long as he did. Dean had never had a friend like that before, he gave up everything for him. He made Dean feel like he was actually worth something, not just a good little soldier, he didn't have to been someone else, he wasn't just a pawn in someone else's game, he was Dean Winchester with a GHD in Give 'em Hell Attitude. He had people who loved him, needed him, he was a good man...yes they were dreams, maybe his angel wasn't real and he hadn't stopped the apocalypse but that didn't change the fact that he and Sam had saved lives and Dean realised, he was proud of them both, something he never thought he would ever be able to admit.

Unfortunately, not even angels could keep Hell at bay forever. The darkness bided its time, slowly creeping through the shadows of his mind, it's tendrils reaching out to every corner of his thoughts, slowly but surely claiming him for its own.

300 years he tolled but eventually it all just became too much. His dreams became nightmares and he found that sleep no longer offered any solace.

Pain and darkness filled the spaces where his dreams had filled and Dean found himself back where he started, this time was worse, because he realised, there was no point fighting anymore, even in his subconscious there was no escape, fate had caught up with him, there was no where to hide. You can't run from yourself.

So when Alistair asked him for the final time, the victorious glint in the demons eyes said he already knew the answer, he knew he wouldn't be asking again.

'So Dean,what's it going to be, Yes or no?' he smirked.

Dean closed his eyes, taking a final deep breath, he saw himself lying on a bed, lifeless...

'Yes' He said, opening his eyes to meet the demons dark gaze, letting go of his past, staring into his future. And as he did so, one last image flashed across his mind.

In his minds eye, Dean watched his dead body lying on a bed motionless, he knew what was going to happen, it was always going to be the outcome. The motionless figure opened his eyes. Despite fighting against it for so long, Dean always knew this outcome was inevitable.

His eyes were the last thing he saw, the colour of the darkness which surged through every fibre of his being, the colour of his soul.

Black.

Okay so what did you guys think? please let me know :) I've got a least 1 more chapter for this, looking into what happened with the angel's rescue mission, what went wrong, what happened to Cas, why Dean had those dreams and maybe most importantly, what effect they will have on Demon!Dean :D

Please let me know what you think, I wont bother writing any more if noone's interested, I hope you are because the next chapters going to be interesting ;)

If you are one of my tumblr followers and you don't have an account leave a review under your tumblr name and I'll make sure to tell you when I update! :)

Thank you all for reading!

Amber xx