Chapter Two –
Sam awoke some time later when the plane began to land. Sam opened his eyes to cloudy, unfocused blue eyes. Cas was still tucked close to Sam. Their bodies, desperate for warmth instinctively wrapped around the shared warmth. It was much cooler here than where they had been. Up north? How much time had passed?
Sam and Cas winced when the door to the cargo hold, slammed open, blinding bright lights filled the cramped space. Sam tried yelling for help, but found he couldn't make a sound. He thumped his hands against the wood and scratched at the walls.
"Oh hush. You are fine." A man said, pulling the crate into something. Immediately, the… truck? Started up and began to go. Had Sam imagined it… or did that man have a British accent? Maybe he just had the accent. No way has Sam been out that long… no way is he in Europe. Sam's breath came faster as he realized how far from home he could be. A gentle hand on his chest, made him raise his eyes to Cas. Concerned, pain filled eyes, gazed back.
"Its ok Cas. We will be ok. We will get out of this." Sam tried to say. But again his voice failed him. Cas smiled weakly, and let his eyes drift closed again. Sam watched Cas fall into unconsciousness and cursed to himself. Cas wasn't doing well… but why?
Sam didn't have time to ponder before the truck slid to a stop and the box was flooded with light once again. British clipped accents filled the air. Sam sat up, detaching himself from Cas's warm body and watched from the holes, as a huge spacious building entered his view. People bustled around. He couldn't make out any features. Just a flash of blonde hair, nice pristine clothing… then white coats and gloved hands. The entrance was like that of a hospital. Up a elevator and then into a lab like area. White walls, ceiling, floor. Machines humming, tons of books. Runes covered each door. Each hall was lined with Devils Traps, Enochian, Latin.
The crate was wheeled into a darkened hallway and all the way to the end where one thick steel door stood ajar. With a loud groan, the door was shoved open by two men and the crate was slid into the room. The room was a medium size. White padded walls, solid concrete floors and a concrete ceiling lined in warding, runes, and Enochian. On the far side, a small bare bed with chains curled on top of it sat in the corner and a tiny bathroom sat in the opposite corner. Cameras were in each corner of the room, chains, and shackles lined the walls. A couple metal hooks hung from the ceiling.
Sam swallowed and stroked Castiel's dirty hair, trying to gain some sense of calm. This couldn't be happening… suddenly the top of the crate was cracked open, the claws of a hammer visible. Sam squinted in the light at the men and women looked down upon him.
"Sam Winchester. Welcome to the British Men Of Letters Experimentation ward. If you cooperate, your time will be pleasant here, and you will leave in one piece. If not… well you'll see." A chipper female voice spoke. Her tone was condescending.
Sam felt a snarl build in his chest. "Screw You."