Yadayadayada, I do not own Supernatural, yadayadayada, maybe Fanfiction will let me upload things again.
.o0o.
John sat in the damp cell alone, his knees pressed up against his still bruised chest. His heart palpitated rapidly and his mind sped even faster. From his cell, he could see into the infirmary. An orderly would come and sit in the room from time to time and read or text to pass it, but typically he was alone. Occasionally Annabelle would come to treat one of his many wounds, but she never talked. She merely stared at the tile floor, avoiding eye contact.
But John could care less about his surroundings. What was going on in his mind was too much to handle. What had just happened wasn't physically possible. Nothing could explain the sudden disappearance of those men who seemed to know something about him. Not to mention the fact that he had had a man named Jimmy nagging at him from the back of his mind. Was he truly crazy? A long, uncontrollable hallucination seemed the only logical answer.
And yet it didn't explain what had happened to those men.
Don't worry about it yet. You're not crazy and they shouldn't be a problem for a while, replied Jimmy.
John chuckled to himself. The voice in his head was telling him he wasn't insane.
The door to the infirmary creaked open and a thick blonde head emerged into the room, catching the light.
"I heard you were in here." Reece slunk into the room, his hand held behind his back. His hair was clearly brushed more thoroughly that it had the first time John had seen him.
John just stared at the man. Suddenly, he had the strange feeling that he was cornered.
"I brought you something."
Reece held out John's wings and the central picture he had yet to finish, a softer more hopeful smile replacing his typically forceful grin.
John approached him slowly, unable to contain his desire for the items. For some reason, he found comfort in the both of them that was unlike the other pieces. He needed them back in his possession.
"Here, take them. I brought you some crayons, too. To help finish this one, you know."
John grabbed them from his hands, careful not to hurt them in any way.
"The next one you draw better be of me," Reece's chuckle didn't hide is threatening tone.
And Reece was gone.
John promptly unraveled the drawing. His mind was still moving too quickly to really look at the pink lines, but he clutched it to his chest. He took out one of the green crayons Reece had brought him and drew two green circles in the middle of the page. Why green? Why there? He had no clue.
But he knew it was right.
He had the urge to draw more, but he didn't have the materials. He merely sat in his cell cradling his works.
