FADED ▷ Sam Winchester [2]

13 | FOLSOM PRISON BLUES

I've never been in jail before. Yes, I've done things that probably would have landed me in jail or even prison had I not been so good at covering my tracks. But this, this is completely different. This place is a super secretive government facility, and the cell walls are thick concrete instead of little bars like I've seen in jail. The fact that they cuffed our wrists and ankles together and shoved us into the back of a truck makes me realize that we're in deep shit.

None of us say anything on the ride to our destination. Upon leaving the motel in the truck, we have no idea how long it'll be before they'll let us out. How would we know where the hell we're going? There's no windows in the truck or anything, and it's not like we can have a conversation because there's armed men at each corner of the back. I don't even want to breathe wrong, in fear that they will misinterpret my actions and shoot me.

I attempt to unleash my powers on them, but I don't want to do it unless I'm absolutely sure I can do it, which I'm not. If these guys see my veins lighting up blue, they'll throw me somewhere much worse than prison. I can't let them figure out I'm a freak just yet.

When we finally stop, they open the double doors on the back of the truck and jerk us out of it. If I wasn't so stealthy from years of hunting, I would probably trip over myself on the way to the ground, because of these damn chains around my ankles and wrists.

After frisking us down very harshly, they take us separate ways. Sam glances in my direction with a concerned look on his face. I just look away towards the ground and continue in the way the guard is pushing me. He finally stops at an empty cell and shoves me inside. He throws a pair of grey coveralls inside which he seems to have gotten from nowhere.

"Put those on," he slams the door after me, and I hear the lock sliding into place. I sigh heavily before shrugging off my jeans and shirt. I leave my underwear on as I get into the coveralls. They seem to have been made for someone larger than me, but that's alright, half the clothes I wear are baggy on me. If I'm comfortable, I don't care.

    Once in a while a man comes into my cell and starts questioning me about what I did, or what he thinks I did. He doesn't know crap about my job, or my life. I never respond to him, just stare blankly at the wall until he leaves. I wonder if Sam and Dean have to deal with the same thing. I wonder if they are in cells nearby. Sometimes I put my hand against the wall and imagine that Sam is right on the other side of it. He could be, for all I know.

•••

    Being in prison is boring. I mostly just sleep and think. I think about Castiel and Kelly Kline. I wonder if she's still with Cas or if she made a run for it. I wouldn't be surprised if she did; she seemed pretty frightened by the whole situation. Who wouldn't, though? If someone told you that you were pregnant with Lucifer's child, wouldn't that freak you out? I just hope that the demons haven't found her. Or the angels. What are heaven and hell going to do now that there will be a Nephilim in the world?

    Along with the thoughts of Kelly Kline and the antichrist she is carrying around, I also briefly wonder if Cas is looking for us. Well, obviously he would be, we are his friends. Sam and Dean more so than myself, but still.

    I also worry about how long we will be in here. I experiment with my powers a little, but I'm so afraid about hidden security camera that I don't really want to do much.

    After almost a month in complete solitary, a problem arises for me that I know Sam and Dean won't have to worry about.

    "Hey, guard dude!" I yell through the tiny rectangle hole that the guard puts the food in every day. "Hey!" I yell again, pounding my fist against the steel door. The man standing at the end of the short hallway notices me immediately and starts in my direction. I can see his grip tightening on the gun in his hand. He looks mad.

    "Hey, keep it down!" He orders sharply.

    "I'm sorry, I just have a teeny tiny problem," I say, being extra dramatic. "I seem to be bleeding excessively from my vagina, and unless you don't mind this whole cell covered in my blood, I'd go find some pads."

    The man tenses his jaw in such a way that lets me know he's extremely uncomfortable. He briefly nods before beginning to walk away, and I catch him rolling his eyes and muttering something under his breath.

    "Hey, watch it buddy!" I yell after him. "It's not my fault I have ovaries!"

    Yes, during this time of the month I get very short-tempered. Luckily, I usually happen to be away from Sam and Dean, so they don't have to witness me in this state.

    As I wait for the guy to return, I pace around the cell, holding my fist against my stomach as if that will make the pain stop. Tears spring to the corners of my eyes as the cramps only seem to get worse.

    I fall onto the bed in the small cell and bury my face into the pillow, yelling into it. Being a girl sucks.
   
     The wimpy security guard returns with a box for me. I'm still lying with my face buried in the pillow, my face hot from the tears. I hear the sound of something hitting the floor behind me. I lift my face and see the box on the ground right below the small rectangular hole. I mentally applaud the guard for getting good ones, I don't know what I would have done if he would have brought back tampons. I just can't do them. No thanks.

    The fact that I have been in this place for a month and that I may be in here for a lot longer than that crosses my mind and I burst into tears again.

***

A/N: yep, a short filler chapter dedicated to periods and the horrendous cramps that come with :)))

I'm honestly just tired and I don't wanna write anymore tonight, ugh 😩

Next chapter will be longer, I promise. Will update either tomorrow or the next day. I was going to name this chapter 'Jailhouse Rock' but I liked the song 'Folsom Prison Blues' better, sue me.