Rivers Deep | Sam Winchester

18. I'm Going Home

"I'm staring out into the night, trying to hide the pain. I'm going to a place where love and feeling good don't ever cost a thing. And the pain you feel is a different kind of pain. I'm going home. " - Chris Daughtry

• • •

Sam burst into their shared cell as Noah was brushing his teeth in the small sink, making Noah whip around to look at him, "What?" The word came out muffled around the toothpaste in his mouth.

"Okay, so there's a guy a cell over who was in the old cell block with Moody, we had cleaning duty together, and I was asking gentle questions about things, and he told me that Moody didn't just have a heart attack, the heart attack was caused by the guards beating the hell out of him," Sam quickly explained, walking over to the bed out of habbit as though he was about to reach for his laptop to do more research.

"Huh," Noah nodded, "Well that explains a lot more," he leaned over the sink and spat the foamy liquid out of his mouth.

• • •

Dean placed an ace down on the picnic table, "Call."

The prisoner across from him held up his cards, "Three aces," he smirked.

"That's a bad beat," Dean shook his head, sounding defeated, "That is a bad beat, but see, I'm full," Dean showed his own cards, "Threes over aces."

The other prisoner, who had gone to collect the pile of cigarettes, their betting medium, punched the table, rising up. Dean just laughed, "I'm sorry, hey, it's a cruel game my friend."

The other prisoner threw the cards in his hand down and stormed away. Sam and Noah stepped closer to the table as Dean rounded up the cigarettes, they were beginning to look more tempting to Noah. A little nicotine to take the stress away...

"It's like picking low-hanging fruit," Dean stated as he raked them into a pile, while Sam and Noah sat on the bench.

"You don't even smoke," Sam shook his head. Dean looked at him, "Are you kidding me? This is the currency of the realm."

Noah's hand glided across the table, picking up one of them. He hadn't felt one of these in his hand since he was sevnteen-years-old and miserable. "I thought you quit," Sam furrowed his eyebrows at Noah, who raised it to his lips, before reaching into his pocket for the stray lighter he had found earlier and decided to grab in order to prevent an arsonist.

"I did, but right now... I don't give a shit, I need nicotine," Noah shook his head, lighting the cigerette. He felt the gray smoke invade his lungs as he inhaled, before puffing it back out.

Dean stared at them, very confused. "Uh, since when... when did you... what?" he questioned, squinting in confusion.

Noah chuckled around the cigarette, "We played an icebreaker game back when we were on one of our first hunts together, I told him about how I quit smoking when I turned 20."

Dean pursed his lips, nodding.

"Hey Dean, look, I got a good lead on Moody," Sam sighed. Noah took another drag of the cigarette. "Yeah, me too," Dean stated, "His spirit decided to pay a little visit last night."

Sam whipped around to face his brother, his eyes slightly wide in shock, "What?"

"The clock stopped, flickering lights, cold spot, I mean he did everything but yell 'boo'," Dean explained. "Well, what happened?" Sam inquired.

"He walked right by me, Lucas wasn't so lucky," Dean's eyes seemed numb, "I mean, the way he was screaming... the guy was a jerk but he didn't deserve to go like that."