Disclaimer- Don't own Sam and Dean and the rest of Supernatural. Or Angel, or Hunger Games.
Warning- Mild Swearing- nothing horrible, nothing worse than in the show.
Author Note- Just trying it out so I might not continue it so please review and I kinda borrowed the idea from the book, Hunger Games and from the Angel episode, The Ring so those don't belong to me either! And this kinda takes place during the second season of Supernatural, probably somewhere after "Simon Said"
Chapter 1- Stolen
The 1967 Chevy Impala cruised down the empty stretch of highway, classic rock blasting from its radio. In its driver's seat sat Dean Winchester, hunter by trade and protector of Sam Winchester, his little brother. As the song ended, Dean glanced over at his sleeping brother. He had been sound asleep for most of the car ride. The poor kid needed his sleep too. Between the extremely painful visions while he was awake and the terrifying nightmares when he was sleeping, Sam went through a lot. Not to mention their jobs. Dean reached over and smacked his brother lightly on the forehead. "Hey! Sleeping Beauty! Wake up!"
"Wha-?" Sam mumbled, pulling from the embrace of his vision free sleep. "What's goin' on?"
"Need directions. You got the map." Dean stated flatly. Sam pulled the map and held it up so him and Dean could study it. Both were so engrossed in the map, neither of them saw the semi-truck line itself in front of the road, or the black cars behind them. "What the hell!" Dean shouted, pulling the Impala to a screeching halt as the black cars pulled up close and cut off anything but the semi or stopping. Dean threw open his door, swearing loudly, but stopped short when he say what the men were holding. Guns. "Woah, woah, woah. What the hell is going on here?" A man in a dark suit came forward.
"Hello Dean Winchester. My name is Sir. George Taylor. I am here to take your brother if you don't mind." The man said
"If I-" Dean stammered, astounded "I mind very much!"
"Oh. I very sorry, but I'm going to have to take him anyway." Sir. George Taylor responded, annoyingly polite.
"Like hell you are!" Dean shouted, but it was too late. A blinding pain shot through his body. Gasping, black spots blotting his vision, he saw the tazer dart wires leading back to one of the mens guns. Two other men dragged Sam out of the car. Sam was grunting in pain and clutching his head.
Oh damn. He's having a vision.
"Sam!" Dean shouted. "Sam!"
A young woman standing on a cliff. A shadow comes up behind her. She whirls around but a golden arrow pierces her heart. She chokes on her cry and stumbles back. The shadow moves forward and reveals itself to be Dean. The woman gasps, and chokes out, "Dean? Why?" He moved forward and shoves her hard off the edge.
"Dean!" Sam shouted, yanking himself from the holds of his vision, but all he saw was darkness. Reaching out, he found cold metal bars on all sides of him. A cage. Well, that sucks. Where the hell is Dean?
Dean grunted, pulling the tazer darts from his leg. Pushing himself off the pavement, he stood wobbly. All the cars were gone, even the semi. "Sam? Sam! Sammy!" He stumbled forward to the Impala's driver door. Gunning the engine, he peeled off in the direction of the nearest town. Hang on Sammy. I'm coming.