Supernatural 1. Chapter 1

**Enjoy!**

* * *

**Inject**

Dean managed what was on the stainless steel tray, moving around spotless items that clinked with each other. He saw his reflection countless times on several items. An expression of hesitation flashed across the reflective surface of the scalpel, but Dean tried his best to ignore it. All he really wanted to do was try and hold his way through the process.

"Pass me the periosteal elevator," the doctor ordered. Dean quickly grabbed for the sharp object and carefully passed it to him. The doctor swiped the object away, not caring for any cuts he might've caused on Dean. He watched as the doctor lifted a flap of tissue upwards and examined everything that was underneath it. "No critical change," the doctor said. "A little bit of swelling on the tissue above the right kidney," he said out loud. The nurse with the clipboard at the other side of the bed took note of every little thing the doctor said. Dean didn't know who the doctor was. The establishment was so big, and assistants like him were only used for small things, such as helping with materials. This doctor was just another man Dean wouldn't see possibly ever again.

"There doesn't appear to be any changes in the kidney itself," he said as he used the periosteal elevator to tear into more tissue and lift it up, exposing the kidney. Dean heard scribbles upon scribbles coming from the attentive nurse. "We'll extract a small amount of tissue from the kidney and examine it under a microscope as we move on." The doctor finally lifted his glasses up and set the materials he was using back on the spotless tray. He closed the insertion he'd made and stitched it up. Once he was done, Dean moved aside and let the doctor pass. The nurse followed him, still ready to take notes on her clipboard. Dean was left alone in the room with the body. His eyes trailed downwards and he couldn't help but feel a bit of hesitation. The closed wound was still somewhat bloody on the outlines of the cut, and the heart monitor showed that his pulse was steady. He disconnected every machine that had been attached to him and pushed the bed out of the room. He gave the body to the assistants that had more authority to take the body back to its room.

Dean walked towards the lounge and bought a coke, drinking it with every thought that came through his head, emptying the bottle rather quickly. He was still unsure about this place. These doctors…they were hired for something bigger, something no one but the people in here should talk about, or even know about. The only reason he took this job on was because he was somewhat threatened into it, and they paid good money. He tried to keep his mind on the money and ignore the rest of the thoughts swimming in his head. He didn't even have to do that much. All that was required of him was to help out with little shiny things. There wasn't anything else he needed to be part of, so he stayed out of it. He knew better.

It's just that…some days…he feels like he should be letting someone know about this place. Someone with authority and security. Someone who can stand up to anything and push things aside with brute force. Some days…he wanted to run away from this place.

…

Cas was closing up the shop. It had been his shift to work today with Ted until 10:00 p.m., and they had survived through a long, boring day once more. He worked at a small convenient store close to his home. He didn't have much money, or a good car for that matter, so a job close to home seemed more than welcome. The police had recently towed his piece of junk car, and Castiel doesn't see the hurry towards getting it back anytime soon. All he needed was fairly close by, so he thought he would save up money and get it back when the time was right. Ted walked ahead of him and mounted his motorcycle. "Alright man, I'll see you some other time," he said with a bubbly Jamaican accent. He put on his helmet, pushing down his long, curly hair. "You sure you don't need a ride?"

"No, my house is close by, and I'm used to walking these short distances," Cas said. "If you say so," Ted started up his motorcycle and smiled once more at Castiel. He backed out of his parking space in front of the store and drove off. Cas watched as the motorcycle lights grew smaller and smaller with each passing second. He finally got out of his trance and inhaled and exhaled deeply.

His feet started moving to the right and down the sidewalk, knowing their way home. He liked Ted. He made his days seem a lot less boring and plain.

Ted was always there to cheer Cas up whenever he felt depressed about how simple his life was. There was a lot of spice and flavor his Jamaican descent added to Castiel's days, and he always appreciated his company. Thinking about life without a good friend in it made him realize how awfully scheduled it really was. He would always go through the same routine. Get up, get dressed, make some tea and have a small meal for breakfast, go to work when needed, pass the day there, and then finally go home. Any day Cas wouldn't work meant he was at home, relaxing and watching television. He was one of those simple people, not really needing much or asking for a lot. It's not that he didn't like his life, it's just that some days he wished it was a bit more exotic and interesting.

A cold breeze ruffled Castiel's hair, and he pulled his zipper up on his jacket. He lived three blocks away from home, and he'd walked about one and a half already. He pondered on what he was going to make when he got home. Maybe some chili hot dogs would satiate him...

He walked for another small distance, enjoying the quite. Cas heard a low sound coming from behind him. He turned around, curious, only to find that a van was making its way ahead of him. Cas turned back and kept moving forward. There was actually a shortage on ham. He reminded himself to get some at the store tomorrow. He was snapped out of his trance when Cas heard the van come closer and finally park somewhere behind him. He didn't turn, but heard two doors being slid open and then shut. Was there enough tea at his house? He should get some honey to go with it. The sound of thick heels pounding against the pavement came behind Cas, and he noticed it was uneven. He guessed it must have been two people that were behind him. He could've sworn there was enough tea, though. The sound grew louder and faster. Castiel finally turned around and saw two men in dark clothing making their way towards Cas. They were a good distance away, but they were both facing Cas, looking him dead in the eyes. Cas turned to see if they were possibly staring at something in front of Cas, but he didn't find anything worth looking at. Cas turned back around and sped up his pace. He couldn't see the men's faces. The street lights were much too bright, and the dark clothing didn't help him make out their faces. One man revealed something from behind his back, and Cas looked down to notice that the long rod was a bat. They started moving faster.

His feet started moving faster as well, taking long strides that Cas felt weren't long enough. His heart was pounding with deep beats that slammed against his chest. He started sweating. His eyes looked for a way to get out or away from them. They darted left and right and any other direction he could think of. He turned to the right and saw an alley.

Cas didn't know where else to go. Did he know his way home if he took this way? He could hear the heels clicking against the floor a lot faster now.

They were running.

Cas darted to the right. He entered a deep alley that only went to the left. He ran down it and dodged trash cans and other amounts of trash. He finally turned to the left and saw an exit that led to a street he recognized. He remembered it led to home. Cas dared to turn back and saw the two men speeding towards him, quick and agile. They looked terrifying and dangerous.

He turned back and-

Cas felt something hard literally hit the pit of his stomach. The wind was knocked out of him completely, and he couldn't find a way to get it back. He turned his head slowly to see what had happened. There was someone else standing right in front of him, his bat smashed into Castiel's stomach. The man pushed his back forward and Cas fell to the floor, gasping for whatever air he could get. A sharp pain came to his side every time he tried to bring even a whisper of air into his lungs. He willed himself to get up. The distance he went upwards was pitiful, and the man snickered as he saw Cas fall over again. The other two men caught up and looked down on him.

His lights went out when he felt a hard, jagged kick pound against his head.

…

The water ran down the shining steel of the surgical materials, and Dean scrubbed them with a worn sponge he'd found. He was in the cleansing room where all the important materials were washed down. Dean liked this room. There was low lighting and it was extremely quiet. Not many people came down here. All the other assistants used a room that was many feet away from this one. He could understand their reasons. This room was about six times the size of a porta-potty, and there was nothing to it. There was a small sink and a shelf with many other utensils that were sometimes needed by the doctors he worked with.

After the surgery with the doctor, Dean felt like he needed some time to gather his bearings, and a quiet, secluded place with low lighting seemed perfect right now.

Warm water ran down Dean's hands, and it was as warm as he'll get in this cold hospital. He rinsed everything thoroughly, disinfectant soap everywhere on the utensils. Sometimes he felt really dirty washing these, even though he has gloves on. Like the periosteal elevator. He'd taken a peek at what the hell the item did, and he regretted it almost immediately, knowing he'd have to clean it later. It was disgusting.

He scrubbed the sharp item, careful not to cut the sponge open, or his fingers for that matter. Dean carefully placed the object in a small beaker that was full of other wet, soapy items. He saw as water droplets ran down the small handle, running even quicker when they reached the smooth surface of the thing.

It felt like he was done. There weren't many items that needed to be washed today; the session with the doctor had been quick (but disgusting nonetheless). Dean seized a clean rag that was on the shelf and dried his hands quickly with it. He got the wet items and also dried them up. Once dry, he put the objects on the steel tray he'd used. He opened the door and walked out of the small room, squinting just a bit because of the brighter lighting. Dean only had two ways to go, forwards or to the left. Either way, he was going to have to leave these things in the storage room, and he noticed something weird about the left way. Deep down the hall, there was a lot of commotion. _There must be some newbies,_ Dean thought with a straight face. Dean went back inside the small room and left the tray in there. He closed the door and started moving down the left aisle and towards the commotion.

His feet walked a long distance, and he found that they were picking up the speed to get there sooner. There were people gathered around the area. Dean tiptoed and saw several people being carried in on beds by the body guards. They were being carried towards their new rooms, and people followed them, taking pictures, names, and small blood samples from them. Several people had gotten knocked out very easily, while others seemed like they had put up a fight. There was a woman that had a busted lip and very nappy, blond hair. This one guy had a heavy bruise on his eye, and he looked dead, but Dean knew he had to be knocked out. They wouldn't accept dead bodies.

Dean's eyes almost went completely across on man in particular. He did a double take and inspected him heavily. He was a mess. There was a long gash on the side of his head. His shirt was also lost, and the side of his body was bandaged. _The hunters must have gotten bored. _

The man groaned and opened his eyes a bit. He turned his head and looked straight at Dean with deep, blue eyes. His heart almost stopped. Dean met his stare and he felt like time had frozen. Everything in the hall had gone quiet, and all he was looking at was this particular man. He saw as the man mouthed two simple words. _Help me…_

**_Anyways, hello, been a while. The reason I haven't been posting is basically because of school. School is a living hell and it takes up every sliver of the time I have. I have been writing though, I've been writing A LOT! A TON! This story has much more to it, and I'll make sure to complete it, but I just wanted to say that I haven't had the time to post or even type anything out! It's insane, really, but I'm going to be posting a lot this summer! There's another story that I think has an amazing plot and will turn out great, so I'll make sure to put that up. Well, thank you for reading this, and I hope you can leave a review if you'd like for me to continue. See you in the next chapter!_  
**


	2. Chapter 2

Time unfroze and everything regained color. The body guard pushed the man's bed and past everyone blocking his way, swearing and cursing as nurses kept blocking him. The man closed his eyes once more.

Dean remained frozen in place, keeping his eyes locked on the spot where he'd seen him. What had happened to him? What had he felt at that moment?

There were so many things going on in his head, and the silence caused by the absence of people snapped him back into the real world. He was standing alone in the hallway, gripping the steel tray in his hands and trembling slightly. Dean gathered his bearings and walked back down the hall, heading towards the storage room.

He looked pretty beat up… did he really look at me…did he really say that… or am I going insane?

These questions kept bouncing around in Dean's head. The scenes were replaying in his mind. He thought of how bloody he looked. How deadly that scarlet gash had presented itself. How the man had looked extremely woozy and petrified with fear. What had they done to him? The hunters must've broken some ribs; that's what the bandages looked like they were for. He must've put up some form of a fight in order to appear that way. He'd never seen any newbies that ever looked like that. A bead of sweat rolled down the side of his forehead, despite the cold air conditioning indoors.

Dean finally arrived at the storage room. It was a metal door that looked darker than any other door, and its grayness contrasted the blue scheme of the hospital. Dean opened the rusted door and left the items in their corresponding areas and left the tray in the cabinet where it belonged. Dean walked out, breathed in heavily, and released his breath in one, long sigh.

…

Bright, white light invaded Cas' vision, and it took its time to clear out. His head throbbed sharply with every heartbeat, and there was an extremely dull pain on his side. He groaned loudly once the room came into his vision. Everything was still blurry, and some parts of his body were completely numb. His eyes finally opened all the way, and he immediately examined his surroundings. There was a cold, tiled floor beneath him, and a bed that looked untouched was against a wall. Someone had literally thrown him on the floor, not caring for any amount of comfort he could receive. Someone had also changed out his clothes. He was wearing powder blue pants that were very thin, and a white, blue polka-dotted zipped up shirt. Cas was baffled by the shirt. Why did it have a zipper on it? He took account of the pale blue paint had been spread throughout the entire room, and the color drove Cas insane. Everything about this room was so monotone, and he felt like there was always going to be an air of eeriness haunting this place. He slowly, painfully, got up. Every muscle in his body was sore, and some he couldn't even feel.

His feet slowly walked towards the bed and flopped down on it. A regular person wouldn't have noticed a difference, but this was a big improvement from the floor. Cas pulled his legs up and laid his entire body against the bed. He released a long sigh and closed his eyes once more. He wished the bright lights would go off. There was something comforting about the darkness, he always felt like he would be in a completely different place if he just imagined himself there. He didn't like knowing that he was in a strange room with creepy corners and a locked door.

The door.

Cas picked up his head and looked at it. It was gray and nothing more. There was a curved handle that had its gray paint scratched off and looked worn. People probably tried to get out. People probably failed miserably. He let his head flop back down onto the hard bed.

Where was he? Was he going to get out? What had happened to him?

His mind raced back to his older memories, trying to recover anything that could give him answers. It had been dark, and there had been people chasing him… no? But why would people chase him? What had he done? So these people had chased him, then what had happened? The memories were blurry, and his head throbbed if he tried to remember too hard. Cas felt the fear he had felt then. His heart picked up its pace, and his breathing became quicker as he felt how it was to be chased. He felt like he was there, in the moment, trying to run away from these mysterious, dangerous people.

Castiel's head pulsed with sharp pain trying to figure out who these people were, trying to calm his mind down, and trying to control his emotions. He took in a deep breath and unclenched his muscles, trying to relax and remain sane. It looked like he couldn't do anything about the situation as of right now, so he closed his eyes and completely laid down against the bed, letting himself be drifted to a different reality.

…

"Dean!" called out a familiar voice from behind. Dean stopped and swung back around to see who had called him. He scanned the area and saw Tina waving at him for his attention with a broad smile on her face. Dean gave a small smile back and waved. She walked the remaining distance between them with her long, black heels, bubbly as always. She was dark skinned and had long, curly, black hair that bounced with every move she made. She kept looking at her clipboard and reviewing it every two seconds. Her big, somewhat dead, black eyes looked bottomless, and the only thing that showed her emotion was her creepy, broad smile. "I am sooo glad I've found you!" she said. "We actually need a nurse to help out in room 52 on the C building!"

Dean had known where that room had been. He'd been working here long enough to know almost everything about this place. Not really knowing anyone here gave him the liberty and freedom to explore. "Alright, will the doctor be needing anything?" he asked.

"Ummm," she said while looking at her clipboard and through her papers. "Ah! Yes! Doctor Daryll will be needing a scalpel for dissection, some tags… you know. The usual items for a new test subject!"

Dean nodded and said, "I'll be there."

"Thanks a bunch Dean!" Tina turned around and giddily walked away. It sent shivers down Dean's spine thinking about how extremely creepy and demonically happy she was. He'd always run into her any time during the day, and any time was as uncomfortable for him as the next. Dean wasn't curious and could care less about any other kind of emotion she might have. All he wanted was to speed up the time she was with him.

Dean exhaled and turned towards the elevator that was against a wall. The doors slid open noiselessly and he stepped inside. The materials he was going to get were on the same floor as the room he was going to, and Dean relished in the thought of doing less work. It was one of the few good things that ever happened in this place.

…

Castiel woke up to the sound of a creaky, iron door being open. He opened his eyes and looked up towards the door. A big, buff man was opening the door and entering the room, followed by another man that was holding a police cane. They were both bald and looked mature. They could almost pass as twins from afar.

They were dressed in white outfits and looked intimidating, their small eyes examining Cas. "Wha.." Cas noticed the door was wide open, and the guards weren't even trying to protect it. He tried getting up and run towards the door, but one guard caught him by the arm and hung on to him tightly. The other guard stopped him by putting the cane across his chest. "Don't make this any more difficult than it has to be," he said lowly. Cas unclenched his muscles and got the message, looking at the guard in distaste.

"Get up," the guard holding him said, pulling Cas up. "Where am I-"

"Don't ask questions," he said quickly, sighing heavily as if already irritated by him.

They both hung on to him and never lost their grip for a second. They hauled him out of the room, and the air felt somewhat cleaner, but it never lost its hospital smell. There were two ways you could go, one going down the left and one down the right. Down each way were two other paths that led straight down at each of their ends. There were more doors at every wall, all spaced out evenly. Cas was right in the middle. The guards pulled him down the left side, and Cas thought it'd be best not to struggle with these two thugs. Where was he going? Where was he in the first place? Cas' heart was beating quickly and sweat was forming on his forehead. His breathing was heavy and he had no clue what was going on. The thugs hauled him through an automatic door and into a very populous hallway. There were people in long, white coats carrying clipboards speeding past other people and looking very busy. Some were in different uniforms and carrying out multiple tasks at one time. There was a low ding throughout the hallway that was followed by the sound of a woman's voice. "Subject 2Y5 is to be taken to room 52 on the C building, subject 2Y5 is to be taken to room 52 on the C building." Subject 2Y5? "That's you, buddy," one of the thugs said. Cas looked at him, confused. "The back of your right wrist has some characters, your characters are 2Y5, it's your ID." His arms were pinned down, so Cas couldn't really check them, but he didn't doubt those characters weren't there. He didn't even want to think about where or how he got guards knew where they were going. They hauled him throughout the entire establishment. They took lefts and rights, and Cas tried his best to memorize what turns they had taken. He started feeling hopeless once they took elevator after elevator. His legs were tired, but Cas guessed he finally reached their destination when he was led into a room. There was a hospital bed, and Cas finally came to the conclusion that that was where he was. He had been skeptic once he had been exposed to all the people wearing white robes and nurses carrying all sorts of materials, but now he finally understood.

But why? Why, out of all places, did it have to be a hospital? Cas was practically thrown on the bed and held down by the guard's thick, meaty arms. One of them put Cas' arms at the sides of the bed and tied them down with leather straps. "What are you-" Cas was cut short by the concrete police cane that was pierced into his stomach. "No questions," the guard reminded him. Once they were done, they tied down his feet. A strap ran across his forehead, and the cold leather felt uncomfortable on his skin. The guards walked out and left Cas in the freezing room.

A couple more minutes had passed before a man wearing a labcoat walked in, adjusting his plastic gloves while examining Cas. Behind the doctor trailed someone extremely familiar. Cas couldn't remember where he looked familiar from, but he knew he had seen him somewhere. That wasn't the only thing Cas felt. He could see in the man's emerald eyes that there were a lot of obscured emotions. It looked like he was constantly hiding something, and there wasn't any peace in the green pearls. The doctor approached Cas. "We'll start off with some blood samples," he said to the other man, while still skimming through Cas. Blood samples?

The nurse went to the other side of his bed and rummaged through some cabinets that were attached to the wall. Now that Cas looked closer, he saw that the guy had a tag that had his name. Dean...


End file.
