Author's Note
Thanks for the reviews! Here is the next chapter. It's short but the next one will be longer, I promise!
"Sammy? Sam!"
Sam slowly opened his eyes and focused on his brother's concerned face hovering above him.
"What…What happened?" He gradually sat up, his eyes unfocused and his head throbbing. He raked his brain for memories but it only caused him to feel nauseous and dizzy and he quickly gave up.
"I was hoping you could tell me." Dean said as he helped his younger brother to his feet. In the theatre, standing on the stage; this was the last recollection Dean had. He remembered shining his light up the middle aisle. Something had caused him to do so, but then everything went dark and he had awakened here.
"Silas!" Sam suddenly blurted out.
The older Winchester looked up at his brother, Sam's expression suddenly becoming a mixture of emotions. "What the hell is Silas?" asked Dean, confusion clearly in his voice.
"Not what. Who." This was all Sam said as one emotion stood clearly out and he cast a wary glance at his brother. He was studying the older Winchester as if he were a suspect not telling the truth.
"Dude, why the hell are you staring at me like that? And who is Silas?"
Sam sighed and then said, "Sorry Dean, but I can't take a chance."
Dean opened his mouth to ask his brother what the hell he was talking about but was swiftly silenced by a fist to the face. He collapsed to the ground in a heap and Sam stared down at him guiltily.
"It's safer this way," he said as he dragged his older brother to the corner of the room and behind a stack of broken crates. "Trust me."
Dean groaned. He delicately touched the tender skin on his face and flinched in pain. "Son of a…" he mumbled as he picked himself up from the ground and looked around the room. "Sam? Sam, I'm going to kick your ass!"
He stomped angrily around the heap of crates he had been situated behind and walked towards the doorway. It was difficult to see for there was now little light filtering in from the two windows. It had become dark outside and Dean wondered how long he had been out.
"Sam!" He called again, not caring that this was an extremely stupid thing to do. He was furious at his brother, his hands transforming into fists as he walked out into a larger room. The walls were chipped and stained and the floor was filthy. It was almost impossible to see across the room for lack of light.
Dean wished extremely that he could remember what had happened before he had awoken in the small room and seen his brother unconscious on the floor. Part of his life had been stolen from him and he needed it back. He thumped his head with a curled up fist, angrily willing his brain to recollect, but it was no use. "Stupid brain…" he mumbled a he stalked off to the opposite side of the room.
He had no weapons. He had no clue what was going on. All he did know at the moment was that his brother had gone off, probably trying to be the hero in some way, and now he needed Dean to save his ass.
He opened his mouth to call for his brother once more but the sound of footsteps quickly silenced him and he darted into the shadows. He stood still, his body in an alert stance, as the footsteps hurried towards him from a barely visible opening in the darkness. As they came closer he quietly slipped to the wall and slowly crept closer to the entrance. His eyes focused on the gape of darkness in the wall and his ears dutifully aware of the soft echoes only feet away, Dean crouched low and prepared for whoever, or whatever, would appear before him in only a matter of seconds.
A figure emerged in the darkness and Dean hurled himself at it, grabbing the form and crashing to the ground with it tightly in his grip. It struggled, legs wildly thrashing about, but Dean had gained the upper hand and quickly had it pinned beneath him. "Where's my brother?" he snarled.