Red. Red was all he could see. It didn't matter how tight he shut his eyes there was always red.

"Open your eyes Dean." The words were too cold and sharp for him to ignore.

"No." He whimpered. He could already feel the cold hands along his body. "You're not real."

"How can I not be real Dean? I touch you don't I?" The fingers trailed over his neck in a firm grasp. "You can feel my fingers around your throat can't you?"

"No. It's not real! You're not actually here!"

"Open your eyes!" Dean's lids lifted as he let out a wail of pain. A red-hot poker jabbed deep into his side. His screams were almost endless as he thrashed to get away. The chains binding his wrist and ankles tight did their job well. "There." The figure pulled the poker from Dean's side before letting it drop at his feet. "Now I can actually see the fear as I cut out your insides again." Dean let out a whimper as his head fell back. His lungs were too tight in his chest to actually feel any air. Not that the air in hell was any cooler then the pain he was feeling. There was a sharp jerk to his neck as his head was pulled a little further back. "Does it hurt?" His tormentor whispered softly into his ear, his fingers digging into Dean's scalp. When there was no answer he grasped the hair tight before pulling hard. The skin on Dean's forehead began to stretch and strain. Slowly a thin line appeared just at the edge of his hairline where his skin was pulling apart. He let out another agonizing scream. "Does it hurt Dean!"

"Yes!" Dean wailed as he closed his eyes tight, his lips pressed together to control the ragged sobs that dared to break free. His captor let his head go and took a step back. Lifting his head Dean coughed, a spray of blood misted the front of his already soaked shirt.

"Not as much as this will." His captor grabbed Dean's face and pulled it to look him in the eyes. Dean almost let out another whimper at the perfect, if not flawless, image of his baby brother. Lifting a sharp blade to Dean's face Sam smiled, his eyes a glowing yellow. Slicing the blade along the side of Dean's neck he laughed. The blood flowed like a waterfall. Dean began to choke and sputter. His lungs were filling up with blood but he couldn't die. No matter the pain, no matter what Sam did to him Dean could never die.

He could feel his brother twist his fingers into the wound. His nails were scratching and pushing their way between the skin and muscle. When he finally wrapped his fingers around the bones in the back of Dean's neck Dean let out a series of quick breaths. His body shivered in fear. His breath was too quick to draw in any real air. He glued his eyes to Sam's. "Don't…" He almost wheezed, his eyes drawing tears. "…Sammy…please." Sam clenched his hand tight, the bone immediately snapping. Ripping his hand out parts of Dean's spine came along with it. The wound at his neck ripped down the back of his shoulder allowing more blood to fall. The puddle underneath Dean's feet was growing wider then the stains left there from the other times. The other times Sam ripped him open and let him bleed.

"Sorry Dean…" Sam whispered as he pressed his cheeks to Dean's. His voice was holding a chuckle too dark for his brother. "…Hell isn't supposed to show mercy." Then everything went red again and Dean's eyes closed. He knew that when he woke up his body would be nearly back to normal, the pain would still sting but his wounds would be mended…only for Sam to kill him all over again.