One Last Beginning: Something To Fight For [Sequel to A Last Chance] *Jensen Ackles*

Chapter 1: Fading Memories

"You wanted to know where Sloan was?" Abel twirled the bloodied knife through his fingers, grinning as he looked at Jensen of whom had been hanging limply from the chains attached to the railing above his head. Jensen's face was grimly white: he was empty and emotionless. Staring straight past him, Jensen said nothing. His body supported all sorts of severe gashes and bruises, leading the way to ripped clothes, and mangled skin. His wrists had now become raw, in the attempt to wrestle out of the bindings he was in. Abel was walking backwards, picking up yet another instrument of torture.

"Where's your confidence now? Come on! Show me," He waved his hands towards Jensen, provoking him cruelly, the syringe in his hand glinting in the sunlight mockingly. Jensen eyed the liquid that had been his drug for the past month: Abel had it filled everytime he had come. The only feeling he registered was pain: pain struck his spine and rushed through his veins, leaving only the ability to simply stay alive.

"You still remember your pretty Gale?" Abel taunted him, provoking a hidden memory of her in his mind. Suddenly at his side, he plunged the needle into his arm, still receiving no reaction from Jensen as the drug swam through his veins and numbed his mind. Before Abel left, he set a pair of bolt cutters far from his reach, but still on the table. However confused by the action, he showed no expression.

"I won't be seeing you again, Jensen. It's been absolutely wonderful," he enunciated, "meeting you." And with that he left, but left the door open. Jensen barely listened to what he was saying- the hidden memory that he was desperately clinging to was lost on him as stared at the floor beneath him, all memories of Gale slowly starting to disappear.

***

Gale sat near her window, isolated from the world. Silently, tears slipped from her eyes just like they had for the past month that had gone by. She was huddled in her chair and had gone into a state of denial: ever since Jensen' disappearance, that dream that haunted her and ate at her heart over and over again. She wouldn't allow anyone in her room, and ate only one in a few days. But she rarely cared: she wasn't complete without Jensen. Stroking her left finger, she closed her eyes as the familiar pain and grief sunk it's cruel claws into her day after day, after day. Jared and Gen had come back from their honeymoon, only to see the terror they had left in. Gale knew it wasn't fair for them, wasn't fair that they didn't get to live their life happily without the rest of this. Upon entering the door, they had seen Gale huddled on the sofa, staring stead, silently. Her face was pale, her hair tied back, and fell around her carelessly. Misha only looked at her: she refused that anyone should touch her, or talk to her. Jared was out everyday, in hopes of trying to find Jensen, contacting Amy who was equally as upset and furious. Gale knew all of this, but she still didn't care- if she was to feel anything at all it would be when Jensen was with her.

A gentle knock at the door startled her out of her thoughts, however still not moving or speaking.

"Gale?" Came the voice, soft and gentle- it was Genevieve.

Still no answer.

"Can I come in?" She asked hesitantly.

"Mhm," Gale muttered, loud enough for Gen to hear. With a sudden click, she entered the room, coming to sit opposite her. Her once wisdom, radiant and gentle aura used to mesmerise Gale, but today she barely noticed.

"Jared went to Detroit today, and talked to Amy," Gen glanced at Gale, who was still staring out of the window. "and he said he saw an armed man standing outside the entrance. So, we think Jensen is in there." Gale slowly turned her head, her eyes starting bore holes into Gen.

"I'm coming w-with you," Gale whispered brokenly, a small smile lighting up her face.

Obvious relief washed Gen's face, as she brought Gale's cold hands to her own warm ones.

"Im so sorry," Gen murmured, looking at her heart-rending expression. Tears escaped her eyes in spite of her flowering smile.

"I can't wait to see him again.." Gale muttered, images of Jensen smiling and kissing her shooting through her mind, brightening her smile.

"You will see him again." Gen said firmly, her eyes serious.

Gale slowly stood up, willing herself strongly: I will see you again. She stroked her finger, -where in her dream- the engagement ring had been placed.

"What are we waiting for? Let's go." Gale walked through her door, a sense of relief washing over her as she escaped the confines of her room. She walked straight out of the door, not caring to spare Misha or Jared a glance. Slipping an arm around Gen's waist Jared and Misha followed after her. Gale caught the sight out of the corner of her eye: she saw Jared snake his arm around Gen, and kiss her. Gale nearly winced at the pain of remembering his touch, and closed her eyes forcefully, and turned to look away from them, to spare herself the torture she would go through. The feel of his warm, loving hands on her, ignited her desire and the passion and tenderness of his lips... Gale was going to get Jensen back. Whatever it would take.

***

Thrashing against his bindings, he stilled, his breathing heavy and fast. Despair crippled him as he hung his head low, staring at the ground, wishing this could come to a swift end. It would be an easy escape from his horrible ordeal as he had nothing to live for. Staring down at his bare chest, he nearly smirked at the way the gashes and bruises had caked his chest. Even though he'd tried it a hundred times before, he flipped upwards, so that his legs were the support of his weight, barely grabbing a near by pin and started needling the chain, do that it would loosen. With no avail after a long time, he sighed heavily before swinging downwards again, wincing at the sudden halt due to his arm. Suspended in the air, he used all his strength to break the railing, but only succeeded in scratching it. Wishing for death, he closed his eyes desperately. He groped at his mind for a missing memory: he knew he was missing a crucial part of his life but couldn't remember it for the life of him. Unable to take much more, his hand stretched for the ceiling, in attempt to break off the pipes from the ceiling only to aid himself in his death. Grabbing only at thin air, his arm strained for as long as it could until he dropped it, cursing at his chains. "Son of a bitch," With one last thrash at his bindings, he hung silently, starting to think about what Abel had did before he left. Setting bolt cutters on the tray, leaving the door open... Almost as if he was leaving someone to rescue him. Coincidently, he saw the door open slowly which caught his attention. Rising his head, he caught sight of 3 -no wait 4- people that came rushing in. He didn't recognise any of them: there were two men and two women, one woman who looked like she had nearly fell to the floor... In relief? Her face lit up, her eyes wide as her hand flew to her mouth. But there was something about this woman: her twinkling blue eyes struck him quite suddenly. She looked very familiar, but nonetheless a stranger.

"Jensen!" She screamed, rushing towards him, followed by the rest however one man looked equally as worried. Jensen was staring at them with complete and utter shock: who were these people? And why were they acting like they knew him? He suddenly felt the blue-eyed woman's hand flutter against his chest, stroking his injuries, which shockingly soothed him but he still jerked back, staring at her as if she had just violated him.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" He said roughly, staring at her coldly.

She looked like she was going to cry: her eyes were wide as she suddenly jumped back, holding her hand. "Jensen, it's m-me.." She whispered.

Before he could give an answer, another man appeared at his side.

"Jensen!" He barked into his face, his voice accompanying all the alarm bells in the world.

"Jensen," The 1st woman appeared before him, finding his eyes and locking them with her own. A sense of belonging surged through him, but he still pushed back the feeling.

"Who the hell are you?"