There was a creak of plastic mattress from across the room and Dean had to stop himself turning over to see why Sam was moving around in the night. Having not quite mastered sleeping in this environment yet, Dean knew from experience that Sam slept pretty solidly through the whole night aside from the rare soft snore.
He slowly turned his head until he had a clear view of the room and also his cellmate who was standing across the room by his cupboard of books and items. He had to turned his head back suddenly when Sam began to migrate around the room again. His footsteps were self conscious, barely making any noise as they made contact with the freezing cement floor. Only when Sam had stopped moving did Dean twist his neck around to watch.
The large man stood at the bars to their cell and froze as though his mind held enough power to spring it open. He stilled his breathing and closed his eyes. Slowly, as though afraid to wake a sleeping dragon, his hand, grasping his trusty mirror, edged between the bars. He peered down into the glass to see what was happening along the corridor. Whatever he saw seemed to satisfy him as he turned it to check out the other side.
Sam stayed there and Dean watched him for the full 20 minutes before he suddenly tugged his arm in and made a silent dash for his bed, feet ghosting over the floor. He leapt into bed mutely having learnt how to do so from years of secretive creeping about.
Dean had to crash his eyes shut to prevent his murderer roommate from noticing for him. However, he cracked his eyes open just in time to see a guard slowly tread past their cell with eyes intently glued to Sam's still and slightly snoring form. He was a good actor.
Once he was gone, Sam reached over to the pile of books and scribbled down some notes on a random page.
Dean was suspicious but knew better than to just ask his roommate what the hell he was doing. However, this pattern continued to occur over the next couple of weeks but were often at different times in the night. But, unfortunately for Dean, he was beginning to miss Sam's midnight investigations as his sleep deprived mind was beginning to force him to sleep from lights out to 7am.
"Surprise inspection!" The guard called from the end of their row, "Stand outside your cells and do not move."
Sam leapt up from the bed and began frantically searching in between his books. He stuffed a few items inside his clothes but the last thing he pulled out caught Dean's attention.
A large piece of cake with white icing and sprinkles sat on Sam's large hand. The man eyed the cake before glancing out their room.
"Inmates outside!" The guard hollered, more aggressively this time.
"Shit," Sam panicked before breaking half off and stuffing it into his mouth. He rammed his jaws down rapidly as he thrust the other half at Dean, "Fucking eat it."
He didn't even think to refuse as he shoved his half into his mouth and began trying to make it disappear, "Where did you get that?" Dean murmured around the delicious, sugary goodness. Even a dentist would have struggled to understand his words.
"The kitchen. Now stop asking fucking questions and get out here!" He grabbed Dean's sleeve and pulled him out to the corridor where they stood either side of the metal bars. They'd made it just in time as the officers were getting closer to their cell.
The hunter swallowed just in time for when the guards marched passed them and began over turning their beds, throwing over their mattresses and scattering Sam's books across the floor. It seemed more of a punishment out of bitter hatred than any sort of inspection. Noise continued to reign out and Dean could see Sam's lip curling slightly.
Suddenly the guards left empty handed and bustled to the next poor victims. Sam turned his head slightly to assess the mess in the room which caused his head to drop and hair to flop over his forehead. Their room had been trashed and every prisoner in that building knew they'd have to fix it up for inspection in an hour.
"Why did they do this?" Dean asked while picking up one of Sam's books and handing it back to its owner who flicked through it ensure none of the pages were damaged.
"To prove a point." Sam muttered distractedly.
The hunter took a second to try and figure it out but came up with nothing, "What do they need to prove?"
The tall man sighed and turned to face the newbie, "You haven't been here long enough to experience this yet but when someone does something wrong and the guards can't figure out who it is they do shit like this." He placed his book back where it belonged, "It's all in the hope either the wrongdoer will come forward or another inmate will snitch. Everyone gets punished until it is solved and then they congratulate themselves on great work when they're just using scare tactics."
He began to right his bed but underestimated how heavy the metal frame would be. Without asking, Sam came and helped him turn it.
"Will this make the guy confess?" Dean asked.
Sam turned but not quickly enough to hide the smirk, "You know what? I don't think so."
A noise from the bars made Dean quickly flip around. Sam froze but couldn't move out of his incriminating position quickly enough. Besides, the wires he had woven together into a makeshift key still remained in the lock.
"What are your doing?!" He hissed.
"Nothing. Nothing. Go back to sleep." He turned and continued trying to unlock the door.
"If you're getting out of this rat cage then I'm coming too." Dean demanded, standing up and placing his hands on his hips.
"Keep your voice down!" Sam dropped his head as though he'd been given the worst news of his life, "Fine but it'll be risky. If we get caught you'll be facing double your time at least."
"I don't care." Dean tried to remind himself that 2.5 months ago he was coming face to face with werewolves and vampires on a daily basis. In prison he'd gone soft.
"Fine, get dressed." Sam continued working on the lock as Dean shimmed into his prison uniform.
A loud clunk echoed around their cell and Dean knew it was time to go.