Devil's Trap

1: The Green-Eyed Devil

        

        This was his chance, there was only one guard who was protecting the hall in which he was imprisoned. He didn't have to be here anymore, and God knows he didn't deserve to be here. All of his past actions were perfectly justifiable in his eyes. He watched the hall sharply, and still only one guard remained in sight. He had to get out of here. This place, it wasn't for him, he wasn't the bad guy. Dean Winchester's entire body tightened as the patrolling officer disappeared from sight. This is it. He thought to himself. After this, I'm free. Dean tip-toed his way down the hall, watching closely and listening carefully for anything besides the sound of his fellow inmates snoring. It was 3:47 AM in the Tennessee State Penitentiary, and not a soul was awake besides Dean and the one man standing in the way of his freedom. The last guy, well, it didn't end so well. He'd do what he had to so as to be out of here. Isn't that what anyone would do? He crept down the stairs, coming up on the public bathroom, which was not technically part of the prison block so he knew there would be a window. Dean slid inside the bathroom, quietly shutting and locking the door from the inside. This plan had gone a whole lot smoother than he had originally anticipated. Following all the rules and getting a better, less guarded cell because of good behavior had really paid off, and Dean couldn't be happier.

The window in the bathroom was pretty high up, but luckily, for Dean, it wasn't too big of a stretch from the sink counter. He hoisted himself on the counter and stood, reaching his arms up to fiddle around with the window lock.

“Sunuvabitch.” He grunted in frustration when the lock wouldn't budge, but eventually, it had given way and allowed Dean to slide the window up. He tilted his head up to whiff at the air coming from outside. He could smell the fresh oak and pine. He could also tell it had just rained not too long ago.

“Ah, sweet freedom.” He sighed happily, letting a smile creep across his face before lifting himself up, and leaping out of the window. Guess it was good that he was on the first floor of the prison.

The barbed wire was a bitch, and he hated it. Dean didn't care about that now though. He was out, and he wasn't going to let a few metal pokers ruin this for him so he ignored the pain of the cuts as he leapt over and climbed over fences armed with barbed wire.

“Does this shit ever end?” He huffed aloud. He had jumped 10 fences so far, and needless to say, he was exhausted. He knew he had to keep moving, for it wouldn't be long before the guard found his buddy dead on Dean's cell floor. They'd hunt him like an animal. Dean kept moving, climbing, and jumping, until the fences had reached their end. Fifteen of those fuckers. What kind of prison needs fifteen fences? He contemplated for a moment. Well, obviously they need a lot more if you're able to get out. Dean started to run. He would hit a road eventually, but he would just have to be extra careful at this time in the morning. Police would be everywhere, and he did not feel like having to bury a body on top of all of this running.

Castiel was tired. No, scratch that, he was wiped. He supposed he could have stayed with his family, but who would actually be able to sleep? They didn't stop fighting long enough to sleep. No, he was just as well off driving home at 4 o'clock in the morning as he would be staying over there for the night. The only problem was that his parents house was about a 4 and a half hour drive away from his own. He had left at around midnight so that didn't leave him much time before he was home in his bed. Oh, his bed. His big, comfortable, squishy, empty, lonely bed. A frown made it's way onto Castiel's face. He had almost forgotten for a moment. He was alone now. Zeke had left, and took everything with him as far as emotions went. It's been almost two months and Castiel still wakes up I the middle of the night, searching for him, only to be disappointed time and time again. He had gotten the crazy notion that going to his parents' house for the day would somehow clear the fog in his head. Nevermind that they were less than impressed that their only son “chose the gay life”. Whatever, he thought to himself, you don't need them anyway. You've done this by yourself for two months, Cas. You're practically a pro. He let out a giggle which he knew was because he was sleepy, and then came the rain.