Someone from Dean's past comes back to haunt him with avengeance.

Sam needs to figure out who and how to fix his brother.

Author's Chapter Notes:

Chapter explains itself, maybe a little gory for some folks, just to let you know!

Enjoy

1: Silence and Darkness

Sam sighed as he thought how easily trouble found his brother, he was going to add the thought of these days, but these days weren't any different from the previous ones. It was almost as if Dean went looking for it, had some extra sense that sent him on a collision course with harm.

Ever since Dad died however it had gotten worse, Dean was a little closer to the edge, a little more willing to risk himself to get the job done, and that was a bad thing, a really bad thing 'cos Dean already took enough risks as it was. It was as if Dean wanted to find something that would hurt him, use the physical pain to ease the pain that he couldn't control and could do nothing about, ease the guilt that was slowly eating him, destroying him. Sam could only watch as his brother rested his finger on his own self-destruct button, waiting to pick up the pieces and put them back together if, or more likely, when he pushed it…..that's if there would be any pieces left.

Take last night in the bar for instance, all these beautiful woman that were just begging for Dean to take them home and he'd left with the one the Sam had asked him not to, probably because I asked him not to, Sam thought wryly. There had been something about her, something that was off, maybe that's what drew Dean to her in the first place. Dean had thought he'd known her, something familiar about her that he just couldn't place. Sam on the other hand had taken an instant dislike to her, she just felt like trouble, he couldn't put his finger on why, she just had.

Dean had left with her anyway.

Now it was two o'clock the next day and Dean had yet to answer his cell phone, a single text message from his brother's phone leading him here to this old abandoned house that Sam was now standing outside of, gun out, ready to go find out what the hell had happened to his brother now.

Dean's night hadn't gone quite as he had expected or planned but then that was nothing new.

He had wanted a night to get drunk with his brother but then she had come up and spoke to him and he couldn't resist the lure of going somewhere quiet and enjoying a few moments of total release, to get the chance to sink down into that warm pit of total oblivion and escape his sad excuse for a life for a little while in the arms of a beautiful and willing companion.

The bitch he had left with though had had other ideas. She had slipped something in his beer, and now, he had no idea were he was or how he had gotten there, but he knew one thing for sure, he was in trouble. Waking up chained to an attic floor was his first clue; the second was his pick up from hell carving lumps out of his chest with a bowie knife and reciting over him in Latin. He hissed as she poured a rather vile looking liquid into the cuts.

Should have listened to Sam his little inner voice screamed at him. Yeah tell me something I don't know, please be looking for me little bro.

He had to sit and watch as she had ripped two of his toenails off and it had hurt so much that he couldn't even catch his breath to even scream.

He closed his eyes as he watched her approach again, knife in hand. The knife however he'd found always made him scream. She cut into his chest causing that very scream to rip from his lungs and she smiled as she lent over him.

"Friggin' bitch."

He wanted to curl up in a ball, the liquid and the cuts causing his insides to spasm, he fought to keep the panic down inside, he knew that this was going to get bad, real bad he just wondered how much more he could actually take before he'd have to beg her to stop it ……….or end it.

She was smiling at him again, her voice cutting through the haze of pain.

"Did you enjoy that scream, the ability to let out all that pain and agony that I'm putting you through? I hope so 'cause it'll be the last time that you get the chance to do that, to vent all that nasty hurt!"

She spoke some words over the ritual cup and forced his mouth opened, pouring the dark liquid into him until he gagged on it.

"Speak."

She whispered the word in his ear. He felt the liquid trickle slowly down his throat despite his best efforts not to swallow it. It seemed to congeal in his throat, he could still breathe, but he realised that he could no longer talk, no longer make any type of noise. He felt his hold on the panic slipping.

She paused for effect and then lifted the cup to eye level. He knew now what was coming and sheer terror washed through him, drowning him and he wanted to scream at her not to do this to him, plead with her but she had already robbed him of that ability. Now she was going to rob him of another. He tried to move his head away from where the cup hovered above him.

"See."

The liquid touched his eyes and he felt the tears forming as the already poor light in the room dipped and then went out. Dean could feel the panic really grip him now, almost hyperventilating. He struggled with his bonds but all he succeeded in doing was slicing the metal cuffs into his skin.

She smiled as she watched him struggle blindly then she touched his head, making him jump, laughed as he tried again to wriggle away from her.

"Poor Dean, can't speak, can't see. Do you know what's next?" She rubbed his ears gently in her hands and he felt the bile rise in his throat. God no, please don't do this, what did I do to deserve this?

It was like she had read his mind as she spoke next. "You don't remember me do you?" He shook his head. "Such a pity 'cos now you'll never know why I'm doing this." She ran her hands down his chest, down into his jeans, down between his legs, gripping him hard. He opened his mouth in a silent scream as she dug her nails through his flesh.

"You don't remember any of them at all, do you? Only your own gratification." Her lips were on his face. "A flash of those green eyes,"……..her hand stroked his neck………… "some silken words,"…………her tongue in his ear…….. "take what you want and then you're gone."

She laughed and turned his head. "You get what you want and then you don't care. Well I'll make sure that you don't do that again Dean, I'll make damn sure. Can't speak, can't see, can't…….."

If he had been able to he would have begged her to not to do this, pleaded with her, as it was though all he could do was lie there and let her make his descent into absolute isolation complete.

"…..hear."

She started singing softly to him, a song he recognised but couldn't place and he flinched as she poured the last of the liquid equally into each of his ears. He drifted on her voice until it began to fade, until he could no longer hear her and his world turned to one of silence and darkness.

She smiled as he jumped as she touched his chest again with the knife, one final cut, one final recital needed to seal the spell.

She loosened his bonds and watched as he slowly curled himself up into a ball, crying silently at the pain any movement caused him, pushing himself away from her with his feet, completely broken by both the ritual and its effects.

He backed up until he was against the wall and then she walked forward to him, knife again in hand. He bucked as she pinned him to the wall and then she slowly slid the knife into him, cutting a shallow cut under his ribs. She touched his head and chanted a Latin verse, waiting until she felt him slip into unconsciousness.

"Goodbye Dean Winchester, have a nice life." She picked up his phone, sent the text message, and then threw it down at his feet.

"Don't worry little brother will soon be on his way. Wouldn't want you to die and waste all my hard work."

With that, she turned and walked away.