It takes a moment for the pain to register, to cut through the other stings and aches, and when it does, it comes on slowly, unfolding like some terrible flower beneath Dean's skin. Dean's eyes go wide with shock, but the stupor doesn't last long. Mike hits him again, and Dean screams, knows on instinct that Mike could cripple him, that even if the bones don't break, the bruises might be enough to keep him down for days.

Another horrible thud reverberates between his ears, and Dean thinks he's going to throw up, breaths coming in tiny, wet pants, and beneath all of it, down deep, his thoughts run alongside Mike's own. It might not be what any of this is about, but Dean deserves this. He's thought it for a long, long time, and if he can give back anything he took from Mike that day, Dean's got no resistance left to doing it. "Please," he croaks, eyes squeezed closed for the next blow.