I Love Someone in Prison - Chapter 1

Heyyy everybody! Welcome to my new Supernatural fanfic.

Okay, well this one deals with a lot of different pairings. It focuses mainly of Samifer and Sabriel, but does contain background Destiel and maybe even some Crobby.

This was inspired by a friend of mine who basically gives me all of my Supernatural fanfic ideas. Anyway, I hope you enjoy! Please remember to leave reviews, they are what keep me writing!

I don't own Supernatural.

Chapter 1

Desperate times call for desperate measures.

Or at least that's what Dean Winchester told his little brother, Sam, just before they robbed a convenience store. The last few years had been hard on the boys. After their father, John, died in a car crash, they literally had nowhere else to turn. Of course, this wasn't exactly something new for them; their lives had never been easy. After their mother had died in a house fire when Sam was only six months old, John struggled to find work. He couldn't keep a job and moved from place to place, trying to put food on the table for his boys.

But John was not your honest, hardworking man, either. After the death of his wife, John became an alcoholic. Dean was almost positive that, during the first year after his mother's death, he never saw his father without some kind of alcohol in his hand, unless of course he was passed out, drunk. Dean didn't mind it when John was passed out, in fact, he preferred it. For when John was awake, he was always angry – always ready to lash out at any living thing that got too close. Sam was too young and too fragile to withstand John's wrath, so the abuse always fell to Dean. And Dean bore that burden admirably. He knew that if his father wasn't beating him, he would just beat Sam, and that was something Dean would never stand for. In his mind, John could beat him all he wanted, but if he laid a finger on Sam, Dean would start fighting back.

After a few years, John began to sober up, at least to the point where he could hold a job for more than a few weeks. And, in the town of Sioux Falls, South Dakota, they finally found a home. John met up with an old friend – Bobby Singer – and talked the older man into letting him and the boys stay a while. This was the first time Dean had actually had a place to really live in since their house back in Lawrence, Kansas; this was also the first time Sam ever had anything even close to a real home.

Bobby Singer was a kind man. He never particularly liked children – that was apparent the moment he laid eyes on the two Winchester kids – but they seemed to grow on him after a while. Bobby became rather attached to them, and since their father was always out working, or out drinking, their primary care was left to him. Since his business – the scrap yard – was literally just outside his house, Bobby never had to leave the boys home alone for long periods at a time. A long time ago – in his younger days when his wife, Karen, was still alive – Bobby was a parole officer who worked for criminal justice system of Sioux Falls. However, after Karen passed away, Bobby retired and sold scrap metal and other old, rundown, barely salvageable cars for a living.

For five years, the Winchesters lived with Bobby Singer, until one night in early autumn. It was the beginning of October. Dean had just started high school, and Sammy was beginning fifth grade. About a month prior, in September, John had up and disappeared. Bobby found himself alone with the two boys (even though he had been alone with them plenty of times before). Dean hadn't understood why Bobby was so distraught over John's disappearance. When they had lived on the road, John would disappear for days at a time and leave Dean and Sam alone in some skeevy motel room. But it soon became clear to Dean that this time was different. John wasn't gone for just a few days – John was gone for weeks. Dean had to admit that as the days wore on, he began to worry about his father's whereabouts as well.

One night in early October, after listening to Sam say his prayers and asking God to bring their dad back, Dean decided to take action. He was only fourteen, but that didn't matter to him. He began the process of tracking his father down. He called every number his dad had, talked to everyone his father had contact with – and did everything he could to try to find him. Eventually, Dean went to the police and asked them for help. However, much to Dean's disappointment, they seemed to do little, or at least he thought that until they showed up at Bobby's door one evening hauling a wasted John in with them.

After the cops had left, Bobby and John fought. Dean and Sam sat at the top of the stairs, listening closely as Bobby and John screamed at each other like a married couple that was four words away from a divorce. They yelled about Mary, Dean and Sam's mother. They yelled about Dean and Sam. They yelled about John's alcoholism. They yelled about Bobby's temper. They yelled about almost everything. And then, came the crucial words: "Get outta my house, and take yer kids with ya!"

Silence had followed that statement. And then, "Bobby."

"No."

"Bobby . . . I . . ."

"YA HEARD ME THE FIRST TIME!" Angry stomps came next, followed by the cocking of a shotgun. "And I meant it, John."

In ten minutes, the Winchesters were driving down the main road toward the highway, leaving Bobby Singer and Sioux Falls behind.

The years afterward were hell. They had returned to their previous, unsteady life, and it was even worse for the boys now. They had made a life in Sioux Falls. They had friends. They were living like two normal boys, and now they were being forced back into the drifter lifestyle. And that is where things went really bad for Sam and Dean. Their breakfasts, lunches, and dinners consisted of snack foods they picked up at gas stations. They moved around so often that their grades – even Sam's, who was always a straight A student – began to slip.

Dean eventually dropped out of high school and went to work with John. Sammy did his best to stay in school and at least graduate, but it was difficult. However, to both Sam and Dean's pleasure, Sam did get his GED. The day of his graduation, Dean was the only one in the crowd there to watch Sam walk across the stage to accept his diploma. John was in a bar getting wasted. Sam never forgot that Dean had been there. He never forgot all the things Dean had done for him.

And Sam took that into great consideration when Dean suggested they rob that convenience store. It had been almost two years since John's death, and the boys were struggling to make a living. With the shitty economy, and the fact that they had about six bucks to each of their names, the Winchester boys were hurting. For Dean, it was almost impossible to find work; Sam was the one who put food on the table. But even then, they moved around constantly – jumping from place to place just like their father had. The boys also adopted another one of their father's habits: credit card fraud. That was how they were able to afford the cheap motel rooms they would live in for days at a time.

They were staying in St. Louis, Missouri when Dean got the idea. The last of their fake credit cards had been maxed, and they were, basically, broke. "We gotta do somethin', Sammy," Dean had said with a disgusted shake of the head. "We gotta eat."

"You think I don't know that?" Sam shot back with a glare. After a few moments he sighed and pulled his laptop out of his backpack. "Any ideas?"

Sam regretted asking that question the moment it came out of his mouth. And now, as he and his brother were being transported to the Missouri State Penitentiary, he really regretted it. Dean sat on the other side of the bus, his hands and feet cuffed, and already dressed in prison orange. Sam looked exactly the same, just much larger than his older brother. Sam scowled out the window hating his brother, hating his father, and hating life in general. He just wanted a normal life; was that too much to ask?

A few minutes later, the bus rolled to a stop, and one of the correctional officers began to usher the new inmates off. Dean and his row went first, and Sam's followed behind. They walked past one of the various prison yards on their way inside, and Sam felt a prickle of unease. The inmates stood just inside the fences, scoping out the newcomers. Sam gulped, feeling like he was a piece of meat being dangled in front of a pack of hungry wolves.

Once inside and once all of the paperwork, and other introductory procedures had been done, the inmates were escorted to their new cells. To Sam's surprise, and relief, Dean's cell was just across the way from his. At first, Sam thought it wouldn't be so bad – Dean was just across the hall, and he would get to see him every day . . . then he stepped inside his cell.

It wasn't the cell itself that wrecked Sam's spirits. The cell was . . . well, as to be expected. It was pretty barren and boring. A bunk bed was situated in the left side of the room, and a toilet on the right. The beds, while they looked a bit too small for someone of Sam's height, looked acceptable. He knew that they were no better than the motel beds he'd slept on most of his life. No, it wasn't the cell that bothered him.

It was the man sitting on the bottom bunk. He was shorter than Sam – then again, who wasn't – and about Dean's height, if not a hair or two shorter. He had short, spiky blond hair and an unshaven, scruffy face. His eyes were a piercing, pale blue color, and raked over Sam's body in scrutinizing appraisal. "Are you my new roommate?" the blond man asked with a small smirk.

Sam gulped and looked at the floor. "I guess so."

The man smiled lazily. "What's your name, kid?"

He hesitated for a moment before mumbling, "Sam."

"Hi, Sam. My name is Lucifer." He chuckled. "Looks like you and me are gonna be the best of friends."

A/N: Review?