Finally, chapter 3. So, now that I am finally down to only working one job again, I will have more time to write, and more time to write means more updates, which makes everyone happy. And I got a mixed responce to whether I should add Destiel or Dean/Daryl into this fic, and I think I came up with a solution. I am not sure if it will work, but I will let you all know once I have everything worked out, so just wait!
Chapter 3
The prison, well, the prison was a prison. It wasn't exactly homely, what it was the best they could do for now. It kept the walkers out for now and protected them from the weather. Dean stayed in motels worse than this.
The sounds of the others moving around, attempting to find cells of their own echoed throughout the concret room. Dean could hear every little noise from where his cell was on the second floor. He had choosen a cell the furthest from the door they had come in and the furthest from the others. Cas had picked the cell next to him, the angel not wanting to be too far away incase Dean needed something, but he wasn't a child. He didn't need Cas anymore.
Dean sighed and rolled onto his back to stare at the underside of the bunk above him. His body was exhausted, his muscles sore, but his mind was still on autopilot and the Mark was attempting to pump adrenaline through his overworked body, but it only made him more tired. Since he started using the Blade Dean hardly felt like he needed sleep anymore, but he couldn't remember the last time he was this exhausted. The sound of someone coughing filtered up to him and he shifted to grab his bag from the floor. It didn't take much effort to find what he wanted, since it was always on top of the bag.
Dean pulled out his father's notebook and held it in the air above him. Some of the loose papers shuffled, but none fell out. The frayed corner of a picture stuck out from between the pages and Dean gripped it and pulled the it out. The picture was torn and stained, having seen better days, but what was on it was still visible. It was a picture someone had snapped of him and Sam at a bar years ago. Dean still remembered the case they were working on like it was yesterday.
XxXxXxX
"Hey Dean, I think I found us something," Sam called from the small table in the motel room. Dean was on one of the beds, his feet crossed and his hands behind his head as he relaxed.
"Yeah? What is it?" Dean asked, opening his eyes and sitting up. He looked over at Sam and watched his little brother fiddle on his laptop. How he managed to get Wi-Fi everywhere they went was a mystery to Dean, but he was happy that he did.
"Looks like there were several cases in a town in Minnesota of people dying in mysterious ways," Sam explained, scrolling through the articles.
"Mysterious ways? Like what, missing hearts, murder like one in a movie, father suddenly killing whole family?" Dean asked. He stood and streatched his arms above his head. Something cracked in his back and it felt like heaven.
"A man was found decapitated, a woman died of wounds that resembled that of a mountain lion when she lived in the middle of the town, and another man was found missing all four limbs," Sam said, twisting the computer so Dean could see it. He scimed through the articles, and sure enough, it seemed like something that was right up their ally.
"Okay, let's get going then."
XxXxXxX
The case took way longer than it should have taken, but it was over now. As it turned out, the death's were caused by an angry spirit that was killing people based off of a child's drawings. The ghost almost got Sam, which gave Dean a mini heartattack, but luckily they both got out safe. Now they were sitting in some bar full of college students, a beer in both of their hands and empty plates in front of them. They sat in silence, like usual, when someone came up to them.
"Um, hi," someone said and Dean looked up to see a college-age looking girl. She was standing awkwardly, fiddling with the strap of the camera that hung around her neck. "I was just, um, wondering if I could take a picture of the two of you?"
"Yeah, course," Dean said, leaning across the table and wrapping one arm around Sam's shoulders to pull him closer. "C'mon Sammy, smile for the nice woman."
Dean grinned, the smile streatching across his face. He felt Sam shift next to him and then the camera flash went off.
XxXxXxX
Dean swallowed and shoved the picture back where it belonged. Next he flipped to another page and grabbed another picture before it had a chance to fall out. It was a picture of him, Sam, Ellen, Jo, Cas, and Bobby. Dean remembered the day that one was taken as well. It was before any of them died.
Dean stared at the picture of the people who he considered family, waiting to feel the ache in his chest that he always felt, but there was nothing. No ache, no sorrow, no nothing. His chest was empty, no feeling coming from any part of him. Dean ground his teeth and shoved the photograph back into the notebook harder than necessary and threw it to the ground. He turned onto his side, faced the wall, and tried to sleep for the first time in months.
XxXxXxX
Early the following morning, Dean found himself awake. The sun was just starting to rise, but there was no way he was getting back to sleep. It was a miricale that he managed to sleep for as long as he had. Dean stayed in the bunk, just laying there, but when the urge to move became too strong, he got up and got dressed. He needed to move, to do something, so that was exactly what he was going to do.
Grabbing the Blade and one of his pistols, Dean shuffled out of his cell and down the stairs. He listened closely to see if anyone else was awake, and sure enough, Freak came crawling towards him. The wendigo sat on his hunches, ready to follow Dean where ever he went. The hunter noticed that Freak was twitching. Dean wasn't the only one who needed to move around.
With the wendigo close on his heels, Dean left the cell block and went in search of the armory. Surprisingly it wasn't exactly hard to find, nor were there many walkers around. He only came across a few in the tunnels and they were easy to take down with both him and Freak fighting. Once they finally got to the armory, Dean shoved all he could find into a couple of duffle bags. There wasn't as much in the room than he would have liked, but what were you gonna do? He did find enough to help them clear out what they needed in the prison though. Shouldering his loot, Dean made the treck back to the cell block.
When he got back the others were finally waking. Dean set what he found on one of the tables and waited for the others to come closer. Hershel, Rick, T-Dog, and Daryl eventually came to see the bounty.
"Flashbangs, CS Triple-Chasers," Rick said, picking something up from the table and looking at hit. "Not sure how they'd work on walkers, but we'll take 'em. Thanks Dean."
Dean nodded and watched as Daryl picked up one of the riot helmets and looked at it with disgust. "I ain't wearing this shit."
"We could boil 'em," T-Dog suggested, picking up a glove and letting liquified walker drip from it. Even Dean was grossed out by that.
"Ain't enough firewood in the whole forest. No. 'Sides, we made it this far without 'em, right?" Daryl said. Dean silently spun a magazine clip on the table as he listened to the conversation.
"Hershel," Carol said, interrupting them and grabbing everyone's attention.
"Everything alright?" Rick asked.
"Yeah. Nothing to worry about," Carol said, but Dean didn't believe her. Something was up. Hershel followed Carol out of the room and back into the cell block.
Dean looked back down at the table and aimlessly spun the clip again. Impatiency coursed through him and he needed to do something, anything. A hand fell on his shoulder and Dean looked to see Cas behind him, watching him carefully. Dean knew what the angel was doing. He was watching Dean, has since the farm, to see when exactly he was going to snap. Normally Dean would be pissed at Cas for doing it, but something inside him knew the angel was doing the right thing. One day he was going to snap and Cas would be the only one able to stop him.
"C'mon, let's get ready to go. We're gonna find the caffeteria today," Rick ordered. Dean stood and followed the rest of them to where they kept most of their equitment. He was one of the only ones who didn't wear any sort of protection because he knew he didn't need it. Cas was beside him, already ready to go. The two of them exited the cell block before Rick.
The group went deeper into the prison, following the darken pathways. Daryl was the first, using the guard's keys to open any door or gate that was locked. The Mark on Dean's arm eminated a dull ache, but it was easy for him to ignore. The prison reminded him of all the other creepy places he had gone to with Sam or his dad for a case. He was half expecting a ghost or vampire to jump out at them, not a walker, but life wasn't that easy anymore.
They came across more cells, most wide open, and the remains of both guards and prisoners alike. Some were decayed beyond recognition, the cloths being the only thing that gave them any identity. Rats scurried around them in the dark places that their flashlights couldn't reach. Dean could feel Cas close behind him.
They rounded a corner and carefully stepped over some more bodies so Rick could spray paint at arrow, depicting which way they had just come from. It had actually been Daryl's idea to do the marking. He noted that it wasn't probably a good idea to get lost down there and said that how he found his way back home while hunting was to leave markers, so that was what they were going to do.
The air in the tunnels was hot and muggy. Dean could feel the sweat on his brow and under his arms. The rancid smell of rotten flesh and stale blood would probably have made his eyes water if he hadn't already been used to it. They continued to move as silently as possible through the tunnels, careful as they rounded every corner, but it wasn't good enough.
Dean hadn't even turned the corner when he heard the growls of walkers and Rick desperatly telling them to turn around. He got a glimpse of the group of walkers coming there way before he was forced to turn by the others. With no heed to be quiet anymore, they ran as fast as they could through the tunnels, back the way they came, or so they hoped. Daryl was in the lead, Rick close behind. Dean and Cas were in the middle, urging the others to go before them, and Freak, who had followed them, swung from the lights overhead.
They continued to run aimlessly as more walkers surrounded them. When they finally got to a spot that was reletively safe to stop, they noticed that Glenn and Maggie were gone. WIth no way to get back the way they came, they were forced to find another way. Dean drew the Blade as he followed the others through a door. The hallway beyond was empty, and they began to call for their missing companions. Dean's heart lept when he heard the screaming. He nearly tripped himself as he struggled to turn around quickly and run towards the noise. The others had already beaten him to it and the echo of Rick's gunshot in the tiny tunnel was deafening.
Dean saw Hershel on the ground and immediately knew what had happened. He had been bit. Rage bubbled up in him. Out of everyone in the group, the old man was probably the one Dean liked best, besides Daryl, and he wasn't ready to loose him yet. More walkers came towards them as Rick and Glenn grabbed Hershel and hauled him to his feet. They were forced to go down a hall behind them and when they came to a locked door, Dean broke the chain with the Blade. He and Daryl pushed the doors open and held them so the others could come in, then quickly closed them. T-Dog took Dean's place so he could run over to the others.
Hershel was in shock, twisting on the ground in pain. Dean saw the wound on his leg and remembered when he was mauled by the hell hounds and couldn't help but wonder if that felt anything like getting bit by a walker. Dean wasn't very keen to find out though. Rick started to hurridly strip off his belt and Dean fell to his knees beside him to help tye the leather around Hershel's leg. Once it was tight enough, Dean held down the leg as Rick grabbed for the hatchet and chopped the leg.
"He's bleeding out!" Rick said, throwing the hatchet away and pressing his already bloody hands to the stub where the leg once was. Dean heard a noise and looked up the same time Daryl did to see the figures standing not far from them.
"Duck," Daryl whispered, and Rick immediately ducked, allowing both Daryl and Dean to shoot to their feet, baring their weapons and flashlights. The beams hit the five prisoners in behind the counter in the face and illuminated them.
"Holy shit," Dean heard one of them mutter.
"Who the hell are you?" Daryl demanded, moving around the front of the others. Dean moved around the other side, his pistol up and ready to shoot if need be.
"Who the hell are you?" one of the prisoners repeated back. Dean could feel the hair on the back of his neck stand up and his grip on his pistol tightened.
"He's bleeding out. We gotta go back!" Rick said, choosing to ignore the prisoners for now. "Come around here. Put pressure on the knee. Hard, hard!"
"Dean," Cas said, stepping towards Hershel. Dean knew what the angel wanted to do without even having to look at him, and he wasn't exactly happy about it, but they had no choice.
"Fine Cas, do it," Dean said, still not taking his eyes off of the prisoners. A couple of them were staring back at him, but most were looking down at Hershel. Dean heard Cas kneel down next to Hershel.
"I am still not to full strenght, but I can do a little help," Cas said and Dean finally looked over his shoulder. The angel was next to Hershel's leg, moving Rick's hand out of the way so he could lay is there instead. There was a faint flash of blue light and Hershel moaned. Cas drew his hands away and said, "I have slowed the bleeding, but we must still move quickly. It will not last forever."
"How did you do that?" Glenn asked and Cas looked up at him.
"I will explain once Hershel is safe," Cas said.
"Why don't you come on out of there?" Daryl said and Dean turned back to the prisoners. One-by-one, they filed out from behind the counter. "Slow and steady."
"What happened to him?" the first one asked.
"He got bit," Daryl said, still aiming his crossbow at the man.
"Bit?" the prisoner asked, sounding confused. Dean shifted his eyes to look at the prisoner and stiffened when he noticed the gun he had. He immediately swung to point his own at the man, and he heard T-Dog do the same.
"Whoa, whoa, easy now. Nobody needs to get hurt," Daryl said, attemping to calm the man down. Dean's finger tightened on the trigger and he was ready to shoot.
"You have medical supplies?" Glenn asked, totally ignoring the guns held up as he walked past the prisoners and into the room they had just come from.
"Whoa, where do you think you're going?" a different man asked, watching Glenn march past them.
"Who the hell are you people, anyway?" the man with the gun asked.
"Don't look like no rescue team," a man with reddish hair stated, shifting on his feet.
"If a rescue tean is what you're waiting for, don't," Rick said as he hauled Hershel up. There was a loud band from behind the counter and Dean could barely see Glenn knocking something to the ground. The Korean came running back out, pushing a long metal table on wheels in front of him. Dean heard them haul Hershel up onto it. There was a fury of voices as Rick pushed Hershel towards the door that they had just run through.
T-Dog pulled the pipe holding the door shut and stepped back. A walker in a riot suit was the first to stumble into the room, but T-Dog pushed it up against a wall and stabbed under its helmet.
"Daryl! Dean!" Rick yelled at them and together the two friends backed up towards the door, not taking their eyes off of the prisoners.
Daryl was the first out the door, and Dean was quick to follow. They ran down the halls as quickly as possible, not caring about how much noise they were making. Rick was in front, lighting the way with his flashlight. They were forced to turn and go another way with a group of walkers stumbled around the corner. Daryl shot a walker behind them and they ran that way. Dean shone his flashlight around the halls, leading the way. Freak jumped down onto a walker in front of them and dug his nails into its skull. The walker dropped and Freak moved.
"Freak! Go make a distraction!" Dean yelled and Freak immediately took off down the hall in front of them, then veered down another. Dean could hear him calling 'Over here' in Rick's voice. Silently, the group watched as a small horde of walkers changed course to follow him. Dean turned to look at the others. "C'mon!"
They ran down the rest of the hall, but stopped when they heard a noise behind them. Rick made them stop and Dean turned, weapon raised, and watched the shadows move on the far wall. Dean expected to see walkers, but then the prisoners rounded the corner, the one with the gun in front.
"Go, go, go," Daryl said, moving backwards. The others quickly followed, ignoring the prisoners for now. Getting Hershel somewhere safe was the first priority.
When they finally got back to the cell block, Daryl unlocked the door with the keys and held it open. Rick, Glenn, and Maggie hurridly pushed Hershel through the door.
"Open the door!" Rick called. "It's Hershel! Carl, come on!"
"Oh, my god," Carol breathed, unlocking the door and quickly opening it. Hershel was pushed through and into one of the closest cells. Carol and Lori helped Rick lift Hershel onto the bottom bunk. Dean stood awkwardly outside of the cell, not wanting to get in the way. He knew he wouldn't be much use to them in there and it would just be easier to stay outside.
He knew he should be feeling something, especially since he liked the old man, but he found that he couldn't. His heart didn't race, he wasn't sweatng like the others, he wasn't even breathing fast. The rage he felt earlier had vanished and left in its wake, well, nothing. No feeling, to guilty, to sorrow. Hell, he wasn't even scared.
The Mark on his arm let out a suddenl flare of fire and reminded Dean of why he felt nothing.
"Dean, get yer ass over here," Daryl called from outside the cells and Dean quickly followed the order. It was a relief to get away from the others. Dean found Daryl behind one of the tables, one leg up on the bench and his elbow resting on it to give him better aim. Dean could hear the footsteps approaching and raised his pistol, which he found that he never actually out away since drawing it.
The prisoners slowly entered the room, one-by-one. Their eyes cautiously moved over everything, taking it all in like they've never seen it before.
"That's far enough," Daryl orderes, his crossbow following the prisoner in lead.
"Cell block C," one of them muttered. "Cell 4, that's mine, gringo. Let me in."
"Today's your lucky days, fellas. You've been pardoned by the state of Georgia. You're free to go," Daryl said.
"What you got going on in there?" the one with long hair asked, slowly stepping closer.
"It ain't none of your concern," Daryl responded.
"Don't be telling me what's my concern," the inmate said and pulled out his gun. Daryl immediately stood up and Dean's grip on his gun tightened. He took a step forwards, towards the man, to show that he wasn't intimidated by the gun.
"I wouldn't do that it I were you," Dean said, speaking for the first time. The inmate's gaze snapped to him.
"Chill, man. Dude's leg is messed up," the biggest inmate said. "Besides, we're free now. Why are we still in here?"
"Yeah, and I gotta check on my old lady," another inmate said and Dean snorted. The prisoner looked at him. "What was that for?"
"Ain't hardly anybody left out there. Chances are that your old lady is dead," Dean said.
"A group of civilians breaking into a prison you got no business being in, got me thinking there ain't no place for us to go," the man with the gun pointed out.
There was a sudden noise and Dean looked up to see Freak had climbed through the door and was now hanging on the wall above them. The prisoners' gaze followed his and he heard them let out a series of gasps when they saw the wendigo.
"What the hell is that?" one of them muttered under his breath. Dean saw the inmate with the gun widen his eyes and immediately knew what he was going to do.
"No!" Dean shouted, moving forwards as quickly as possible, but it wasn't fast enough. The inmate raised his gun, pointed it at Freak, and pulled the trigger.
There was a lound bang and Dean felt his heart stop.
Whoa, another chapter come and gone. I hope you are all enjoying this and are having as much fun reading it as I am writing it! Until next time!
