Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize…Does anyone know where I can get Dean Winchester? :P

AN: Takes place mid season 4. Spoilers for season 3 but mostly 'Time Is On My Side' and 'No Rest For The Wicked'.

"I know I don't deserve it"

"Because, just maybe you can kill the bitch."

"I'll see you in hell."

Dean woke up with a start. Not again! What the hell is wrong with you pal? He looked over at Sam, who was snoring, five feet away from his bed. Dean pushed back the covers and sat up on his bed feeling incredibly tired. He made his way to the bathroom and flipped on the light switch and turned to see himself in the mirror.

It didn't make any sense! Bela? You, dreaming about Bela? You must be seriously losing your screws! He could just imagine the incredulous look that Sam would have on his face if he ever told him about this. Sam would never let Dean live this one down.

It had been happening for weeks now. Every night, Dean would dream about Bela Talbot; the conniving little twit who ruined everything for the Winchester brothers.

Now when that bitch breathes the air comes out crooked!

She was the reason that Dean ended up having to go to hell in the end. If he had the colt, Samuel Colt's gun that she stole from Dean and Sam, he was sure that he would have been able to weasel out of the deal he made to bring back Sam.

Every night he would dream about his last conversation with her.

"See you know what I did? I went back and I took another look at your folks' obit. Turns out they died ten years ago today. You didn't kill 'em. A demon did your dirty work. You had made a deal, didn't you, Bela? And it's come due. Is that why you stole the Colt,huh? Try to wiggle outta your deal? Our gun for your soul?"

"Dean, listen I need help!"

"Sweetheart, we are weeks past help."

"I know I don't deserve it.."

"You know what? You're right, you don't! But you know what the bitch of the bunch is? If you would have just come to us sooner and asked for help, we probably could have taken the Colt and saved you."

"I know, and saved yourself….I know about your deal Dean."

"I'll see you in hell."

He just couldn't figure out why. Why dream about that? Guilt was out of the question 'cause that bitch deserved what was coming to her. But then why? How do you explain it?

Dean splashed his face with the ice cold water, trying to clear out his muddled up head. He lifted his head to grab the towel beside him. The reflection of a shadow behind him in the mirror caught his attention. His eyes widened as he realized who it was.

It was Bela.

Dean whipped his head around, away from the mirror but there was no one there. He turned back to the mirror and took a good look at himself. He REALLY looked like someone who had seen a ghost. The irony! HAH!

He flipped off the switch to the bathroom and walked back to his bed. Sam's snoring had ceased. Thank god for that! He lay his head on his pillow and closed his eyes and within minutes Dean was asleep.

~O~

"I'm very pleased with you Dean."

"Alistair."Dean snarled. Fuming. He didn't want to do this. Not like this. But he had no choice.

"Now Dean, is that anyway to treat the one who got you off the rack?" Alistair smiled, taking note of Dean's attitude.

He led Dean down a long hallway. All around them Dean could feel the heat. Like he was walking through a burning building. Hell. It reeked of blood, burning flesh and fear. And some other things that Dean didn't want to give much thought to. He could hear the screams of the poor souls that were no doubt getting tortured by demons. He could feel their pain, as if it crawled up his own spine. He could smell their fear; one he was very well aware of. But now, he didn't want to hear their pain filled, horrific screams as they got torn apart, clawed at. Didn't want to feel their pain, smell their fear. He didn't want to feel his own fear and pain anymore. He just couldn't do it anymore. Thirty years of enduring the pain and torture was enough. He wanted it to stop. And so he got off the rack.

"This way, Dean."

Dean walked into a room and he felt like the temperature had increased ten folds. All around, the room was filled with bones and blood. He was used to it now. The smell of burning flesh didn't burn his eyes anymore, didn't churn his gut anymore. The screams of the other souls seemed to lessen in this room and he frowned. Somewhere in the distance he heard a crackle of thunder. He looked towards Alistair who just smiled, baring his teeth like a dog, and motioned at a figure in front of him. Dean followed his gaze and gulped.

It was a young woman. She was stark naked. She had multiple scars all over her body. Both her wrists were chained to hooks so high above her that Dean couldn't even see them. Her ankles were spread apart with chains much like how her wrists were. There were hooks planted into the flesh of her shoulders and they were bleeding. She hung there, spread eagled, her head dropping forward between her shoulders, her hair covering her face making it impossible for Dean to get a look at her face. She was unconscious.

Dean turned to look at Alistair.

"Get started Winchester. She's your first." Alistair sing-songed.

"But-"

"NO BUTS! NOW!"

"I-I can't—"

"Don't test my patience BOY!" Alistair took two quick steps towards Dean so that their noses touched. " I got you off the rack, I cant put you back. And this time it'll be worse. I will sear your flesh again and again. YOU'LL hear it. Hear your own flesh sizzle, smell your own flesh burn!"

Dean swallowed thickly and took two steps back. He took a few calming breaths, the stench of blood entering his nostrils. He straightened his shoulders and looked up at Alistair, determination set in his eyes.

"Make me proud Dean. I know you've got potential." Alistair cackled before walking out of the room, closing the door, leaving Dean and the woman alone.

Dean walked towards the woman to start what he came here to do. He stopped a few inches away from her trying to look at her face through the hair. He wanted to remember every soul. Every one. He wanted to remember and never forget his actions. This will be his punishment for giving into Alistair's demands. For torturing souls just so that he could get off the rack; stop his own torture. It was despicable! He was a coward and weak and he knew it!

The woman chose that moment to raise her head and open her eyes with a moan. Her eyes were glazed over and they seemed to lose focus. She shook her head to try and clear her vision. Her hair moved back in place with her actions and Dean was finally able to see her face.

"Bela." Dean whispered, not believing his own eyes.

Bela's eyes finally focused on the man in front of her and her own widened with surprise.

"Dean? Well, I would ask what the hell you're doing in Hell but I already know the answer to that." Bela snorted. Dean smirked. Same old Bela. Good to know Hell hadn't changed her ability to make snarky comments.

"You look very good!" Bela wet her lips, eyes raking in Dean's form.

"I always do sweetheart!" Dean drawled.

"So what are you doing here? They assigned you to tear me apart?" Bela raised an eyebrow.

Dean just smirked in response.

"Something tells me you're going to enjoy this." Bela narrowed her eyes.

"You betcha!" Dean replied. He was joking of course. This familiar banter with Bela was absolutely refreshing for Dean. He actually managed to forget the circumstances that they were in and where they were.

"Go ahead, Dean. Give me your best shot! But get this through. I'm not going to give you the satisfaction of watching me scream." Bela hissed.

Dean frowned. The quick change in Bela's mood confused him.

"Bel-"

"Get it over with Dean! I know you're just itching to get your hands on me!" Bela's voice cracked.

"Why'd you do it Bela?" Dean asked, voice soft.

"What?" Bela's brows furrowed in confusion.

"Why'd you do it? Why'd you make that deal to kill your parents?" Dean asked again, stepping closer to her. He really wanted to know, wanted to understand, what would drive a person to make a deal with a demon to kill their own parents.

"You wouldn't understand Dean!"

"I'm trying now aren't I?"

"Not everyone is loved by their parents Dean. Not like you."

"Bela every parent has their mome-"

"NO!" Bela let out a heavy breath. "You won't understand Dean, you can't. Not back then and not now. You just jumped to conclusions in your head, thinking I was some rotten bitch to have a demon kill my own parents. For what? To get the inheritance? Please!" Bela snarled, her nostrils flaring.

The revelation hit Dean like a freight train. He searched her eyes for any sign that she might be lying but he found none. She looked straight in his eyes, challenging him to not believe her.

"Then why-?" Dean asked, confused.

"None of your concern." Bela spit out, fire in her eyes. "Are we going to just chit chat or are you going to do what you came here to do?"

~O~

"Dean!" Dean felt a pillow being chucked at him and snapped his eyes open. "Get a move on it, will ya?"

"Ugh! What time is it?" Dean pulled the covers back over his face, trying to block out the glaring sun.

"It's six am. Now get off your ass, Dean!" Sam pulled the covers back from his face.

"Alright, alright! I'm up! Jeez!" Dean rubbed a hand over his eyes trying to drive away some of the sleep.

"You don't look so good." Sam commented. He had stopped packing his duffel bag to look at his brother who looked like he hadn't slept in years.

Dean snapped his head at the comment with mock panic on his face. Sam snorted. "What's up?"

"Nothing. I need a shower." Dean went to his duffel bag, pulled out a dirty green button down shirt and a black t-shirt and a new pair of jeans and walked into the shower.

He closed his eyes as the water cascaded over his handsome face and down his body, disappearing down the drain.

Dean flinched as his knife made the first cut in Bela's abdomen. He glanced up at her face. She was clenching her jaws, he could tell. Her lips were a white, thin line from clenching too hard. Like it was drained of blood. Dean chuckled at that thought. He didn't know he was capable of such human thoughts, even in hell. The concept of lips drained of blood due to clenching them too hard was preposterous to Dean, in HELL.

Bela looked up sharply at Dean. "Enjoying?" She sneered.

"No- that wasn't-"

Dean's eyes snapped open. The water from the shower was cold now, almost freezing his body. The symbolism wasn't lost on Dean. Dean was cold inside.

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