Title- What Can Be Learned
Series- Supernatural
Disclaimer- I do not own
Warning(s)- N/A
Character(s)/Pairing(s)- Dean, Gabriel(Trickster)
Rating- K+
He lazily blinked open his eyes. Awakening to the sight of leisurely swaying foliage, the morning sky it's backdrop. It was almost surreal the pinks and purples juxtaposed against the shaded green treeline he was under. And as mesmerizing a sight it was; it took time to even acknowledge that much. Despite that he knew a bright morning sky wasn't what he was supposed to be greeted with upon coming to consciousness. It was a slow process trying to understand what was going on. He felt heavy like coming out of a deep sleep. The waking reality, a jumbled mess he couldn't even begin to comprehend yet.
Vibrant green eyes stared almost transfixed as the tree branches above him waved calmy back and forth. Their rustling leaves like a calming lullaby. The slight breeze a sweet caress. The early morning air crisp and fresh and much needed for what seemed to be his oxygen-starved lungs. Breathing deep, he tried to stem the need to cough. He instead lurched to the side heaving as a sudden nausea hit him. Gagging, he expelled what he assumed to be the last thing he ate. It was only as his stomach began to cramp that the urge subsided. Groaning he wiped the excess from his mouth before unsteadly getting to his feet.
The world tilted and he was back on the grass floor.
His second try to stand was more successful but not by much. Still unsteady, he searched his surroundings trying to make sense of his strange situation. What he caught sight of, that he probably should have noticed right from the get go, made it that more weird- a fire pit roughly size of his person not five feet from where he woke.
"Wha-?" He mumbled with confusion stumbling back a bit. Camp fire? He looked closer. No... not a camp fire.
Worried now, he searched his person finding nothing other then the clothes and jewellery on his person he searched the grounds hoping to find something that would give him a clue to what was going on. To the long dead fire. The fact he spent the night outside in nothing but streetwear and boots. That he spent it and recieved injuries because of it; the aches and throbs only now making themselves known. That he couldn't remember his own name.
He felt panic build in the pit of his stomach; a cold and poisonous feeling that spread out gripping him in a vice-like grip. Moments later he fell hard onto his knees, harshly spewing what he hadn't thrown up the first time around.
Tears stinging his eyes he wondered what the hell happened.
He wondered why he was alone.
A/N
Sooooo... should I continue? This is basically an idea that snatched my attention as soon as I had just an inkling of it. It didn't stop bugging me until I had this written out. I thought I should post it to share with you all. Hope you enjoyed! I'll most likely pick this back up when I have a definite basis for how things will play out. Or atleast until I find the sudden urge to write another chapter :)
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