"We are captives of our own identities, trapped in prisons of our own creation." - Theodore Bagwell

Was he ready?

God no.

Did he want to?

Fuck no.

Was he going to?

Well, yes.

May 30th. Sam had 6 months to get this done.

He stood in his apartment,staring at his wall. The immense amount of information had been so intricately arranged.

And then he started to rip it all down. Dean's mugshot, the original article, the lawyers' profile- everything came down.

When the wall was cleared, Sam crossed the room to his computer and tore out the hard drive. Can't leave that here. He went to his balcony, and pitched the drive into the middle of the lake, 60 feet down.

Might as well get started.

Sam fired the gun twice at the bank ceiling. People shrieked, a baby started crying.

"The money. Now. "

"Okay, I'll do it, just-" The woman glanced out the window. Sam heard helicopters.

Then, a loudspeaker:

"Samuel Campbell, turn around slowly. Drop the gun, and put your hands on your head."

Sam did so, masking the smirk on his face.

Armed Robbery. Best way to be sent to a maximum security prison.

"Mr Campbell has agreed to plead no contest in exchange for serving out his sentence at Folsom State Penitentiary." The lawyer droned on.

Besides him, Pam started.

"What?" She hissed. She stood up.

"Your honor, the defense requests a five minute break. I need to discuss some things with my client.

Sam grabbed her wrist.

" No, we do not." He said. " I know what I'm doing."

"Alright, let's go." The officer pulled Sam to his feet. He was going back to the holding cell while the judge made her decision. There weren't vemany people in the courtroom, but one face stood out- freckles, green eyes. Ben. " Go home, Ben. I don't want you to see this." The teenager just shook his head, eyes glossy with tears.

"What are you doing, Sam?" Pam asked through the bars of his cell.

"You're not violent, you don't need the money from the bank, and now you plead no contest? It's almost like you want to be sent to prison."

"Pam, you've done so much for me - for my family. But I can handle this." Sam said calmly.

Pam bit her lip, jaw jutting with anger.

" You know, Ben's starting to get the impression that everyone he cares about is going to end up in prison. And he's not the only one."

Sam watched her turn and leave with a pit in his stomach.

He could handle this, right?

"Mr Campbell," the judge stared at Sam from her seat. " Given that you discharged a weapon and have shown a proclivity towards violence, I find it incumbent that you see in the inside of a prison cell. Five years. You'll be eligible for parole in three."

The judge banged her gavel, and Samuel Campbell, Structural Engineer and Stanford graduate, was a convict.

Sam pulled on the prison-issued shirt.

"That's a lot of tattoos there, con."

A C.O stood before him, arms crossed.

"Whatever you say, Boss." Sam said, putting on a sweatshirt.

The CO narrowed his eyes. Sam read his name tag. Gadreel.

"Do you believe in God, Campbell?"

"Never really thought about it."

"Good. 'Cus there are only two commandments in here. One, you got nothing coming to you. "

"What's the second one?"

"See number one."

The cell was smaller than Sam thought. (of course, the exact measurements were 5x8 sq ft.) His cellmate was also smaller than he thought. A pale guy with blue eyes, black hair.

"So you're new, fish. " the guy said.

Sam nodded, staring out over the block of cells. The gates were open. Men were talking, shouting, and trading supplies as looked on.

"I'm Cas."

"Odd name."

" You're pretty odd yourself." Cas said, hopping down from his bunk to join Sam at the front of their cell.

There was a piercing scream. The men started gathering around a single man who had sunken to his knees, hands on the knife buried in his gut. Guards and prisoners alike started shouting in excitement.

Besides him, Cas huffed cynically

"Welcome to Prisneyland, fish."

It was pretty dreary out, but it's not like they had a choice. Recreational time was mandatory. Sam shivered through his jacket, walking next to Cas in the fenced in yard.

"Do you know where I could find Dean Winchester?" He asked Cas.

Cas laughed.

"Yeah, sure."

Sam was silent. They walked on in the drizzling rain.

" You're being serious. Jesus. OK. Mean Dean's on death row." Cas nodded towards a separate area of the yard. Sam could make out a single man crouched against the wall. He started walking to him.

"Hey! Where are you going?"

Cas caught up with him.

The man didn't notice Sam, even though he was leaning against the fence that separated them.

"Why are you so interested in him anyways?" Cas asked.

"Because he's my brother."