None of the characters mentioned in the below piece of fiction belong to me in any shape or form. I am merely using them for my own entertainment purposes.
So here's chapter one of Tick Tock reedited and repolished so it can be the best it can be. If you read my other work then you know I've been making my way through all the other stories I've written giving them the same treatment. Its time consuming and tiring but I feel that its worth it. I'm like a hundred times happier with what I've done!
So yep, I'm hoping to get most of this done and dusted today but we shall see. Real life will be rearing its ugly head in about four hours not to mention the fact I'm watching Castle Season one as well!
Dean is gone and time is running out because someone is playing a game with Sam and Castiel, someone wants them to lose but the price of losing is Dean's life. They have to find the clues and win. The clock is ticking… can you hear it? Because Dean certainly can…
Where was he? Who had him? Where was Sam?
Castiel/Dean Winchester, possibly Sam Winchester/OFC
I don't think Dean is thinking about romance right about now…
Where am I?
The first thing which struck Dean Winchester when he came to on a hard concrete floor was how cold and dark it was.
The darkness was thick and heavy, almost with an oppressive quality to it which pressed in on him from all sides until he felt smothered by it. He lay on the hard surface, staring up with eyes that could see nothing, his breathing coming out slow and steady from his mouth as he tried to make his breathing pattern mimic someone sleeping. His head throbbed when he attempted to move, the pain causing nausea to rise up his throat making him flip onto his front in case he chocked on his own vomit.
He reached up slowly, touching the back of his head gently before bringing his hand back in front of him, he couldn't see but he could feel the wetness on the fingertips indicating that his head wound was serious enough that it was still oozing blood which probably meant that he needed some sort of medical attention or a trip to the local hospital. Clearly that wasn't about to happen anytime soon.
He tried desperate to remember how he had ended up in the darkness but everything remained blank in his mind. He had some vague memory of going to get food for him and Sam because they had been researching something and it had been past lunch but after that things disappeared into a black hole in his mind. He must have been ambushed by someone but who? Whoever they were they must have been either Supernatural or a human with some incredible skills to take him down, because even distracted Dean was a formidable foe. Had there been more then one of them? Had they jumped him? Had they drugged him?
God he wished he could remember.
He breathed out deeply, resting his palms against the floor as he forced him self into a seated position ignoring the sharp agony the simple movement produced in his body. He looked down at his arm automatically, ignoring the fact that he couldn't see it. A slight touch indicated that his lower arm was broken, possible in more then one place which pointed to the fact that whoever did this had taken a great amount of pleasure in making sure that Dean wouldn't be able to fight back.
He moved his eyes around desperately trying to see anything which would give him some indication of what was going on but there was nothing but the darkness. Dean felt almost bad about mocking his brother when they had been younger about being afraid of the dark, suddenly the fear made sense to him.
If only his head wasn't threatening to split open then he might have been able to gather some clues together or at least be able to collect his woolly thoughts. What the hell did the person hit him with to cause this amount of damage to Dean's head? A baseball bat made out of diamond or something equally as hard?
Dean took another deep breathe, the sound loud in the otherwise silent room before he braced him self and forced him self to get to his feet, his arms flung out to either side of him in an attempt to balance his body and to stop him falling flat on his face again. Swallowing deeply Dean moved forward cautiously, his good arm stretched out in front of him while he awkwardly cradled the broken on close to his body.
He had only moved forward about ten steps before his hand smacked against a wall. It was completely smooth and cold beneath his finger tips. He frowned, dragging his hand down to see whether there was any change to it but there wasn't. The wall must have been made out of metal; anything else would have had some change in the constituency of the wall.
Turning his body to the left Dean walked forward counting another ten steps before his hand made contact again with another wall which felt exactly the same as the previous one. He did the same thing until he had completed a circle coming to one conclusion.
He was in a metal room of some kind, a small one which might have been built with him in mind. He calculated that there was just about enough space for him lay down on the floor if he became tired. The room appeared to be empty of everything bar him which might have indicated that it was a temporary storage unit for him and he was in fact travelling somewhere, somewhere where whoever it was planning to keep him. He certainly hadn't made contact with anything other then the walls.
Why was he here?
Who had managed to capture him?
Where was Sam?
Dean groaned as his back hit the wall, his shaky legs giving out on him until he was flat on his ass on the floor, legs spread out in front of him as he closed his eyes, a sickening feeling growing in his stomach as he cradled his broken arm with his good one.
Somehow he didn't think he wanted to know the answer.
Thanks for taking the time to read