WOTR | Book 3 Part II
War Of The Regions:
Book 3 Part II
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They’re all woken a few hours later, with the lights flickering on. Dean makes sure he’s quick to the toilet and sits back down on his bed, waiting with Cas beside him. The door beeps and they all quiet down as it opens, revealing the same Official as before, with the cool eyes and the intimidating air that surrounds him.
“It’s time for breakfast and then the assembly hall,” he says, staring over them all. He locks eyes with Dean but he doesn’t back down, and he smirks before carrying on looking over everybody. “Single file, follow me out.”
They get lined up, Cas in front of Dean, and they walk out of the room. The Official shuts the door behind them and then leads them down the steps and through a long corridor, past doors with other numbers painted on the outside. As they reach the end of the corridor they turn right, and there are two wide open doors at the end, with people inside already sat down. They’re directed into the hall and walk along to the middle and sit down on the benches. Cas takes his hand once they’ve sat and Dean slips their fingers together.
Everyone is mostly quiet while newcomers file in, and Dean is constantly watching and looking for any sign of Sam. He looks to Cas, who’s doing the same, and Dean starts feeling the nerves rise again. There are too many people to be able to see him and he tries to keep himself calm, and plans to search for him when they all leave.
In front of them is a stage, with one microphone in the center. Officials are standing on either side of the stage, and all along the sides of the hall. If everyone here worked together, he’s sure they’d be able to revolt and overpower them. But some of these children are no older than twelve, and he can’t expect them to wrestle down a man three times their size carrying a gun.
The doors close on either side of the hall and the room is sent into silence. A door opens from the side, and a man walks through with a wide grin on his face and stands in front of the microphone, smiling down at them all.
“That’s the Grand Mayor,” Cas whispers in his ear, and everything immediately slips into place, and he remembers this man. Remembers his portrait in the Officials Hall, and this is the man who controls the Highlands and all of the Officials that operate within it, as well as the ones maintaining the Regions.
“Hello everyone, and welcome,” he says, assessing them all with a shark’s grin. “I’m Grand Mayor Roman, and it’s such a pleasure to see you all.”
There’s something about this dick that gets under Dean’s skin, and makes him feel restless and uneasy. He watches him very closely.
“There’s no war,” he says abruptly, smiling down at them. “You aren’t soldiers. You are the future.”
Dean feels his blood begin to boil. No war? They’ve ruined homes, killed families. And yet there’s no war? The only reason there hasn’t been a civil war is that there’s been no resistance from the innocent people of the Regions. There’s a murmur in the crowd but it’s quickly silenced when an Official steps forward and glares down at them.
“You are going to keep the Highlands operating. You are going to be the Officials of tomorrow. You are going to be partaking in top secret surveillance and, on top of this, will be given a place to live, and will be given food and bedding. Now, tell me,” he says, still grinning, “what’s so bad about that?”
“Nothing of course,” he carries on, before anyone even has a chance to speak up. “You have been chosen. You are privileged. Of course, if you decide to be ungrateful, there are consequences.”
There’s a heavy silence again, but he doesn’t elaborate. Dean keeps his eyes scanned for Sam, and the fact he hasn’t seen him yet makes him wonder with a sick feeling of dread if he’s even in this place.
“A lot of you are homeless,” he says, voice dripping with pity.
“Because you burned our homes,” Dean mutters beneath his breath.
“And now you have been given refuge. I’m very happy to have you here. Now, it is time for breakfast, and then you will be given your orders for the rest of the day.”
He gives a small bow, turns around and leaves the stage. Dean watches him carefully as he goes, and he stands up with the rest of the people around him. They haven’t organized it well and people are everywhere, no longer sorted by age, and the Officials are struggling to get everyone out.
Dean spots a boy whispering to another kid who looks his age, and Dean moves a little closer to hear.
“I saw it, I mean, I wasn’t supposed to go there. But it’s like a prison,” he says, eyes wide and bright.
“What are you talking about?” Dean asks quietly, leaning forward.
The kid looks up at him, and swallows nervously. “They call it the Security Isolation Wing,” he whispers, glancing around. “There’s only about ten cells in it. Pretty low security compared to our cells, but manned 24/7. I hear there’s about five kids in there.”
“Why?” Dean asks, voice quiet and low.
“Disobedience, or whatever.”
Dean swallows hard and looks around once more before asking, “Do you know if there’s a fourteen year old boy in there? Sam?”
“I dunno,” the boy says, frowning at him. “It’s on the way to the kitchens, and I’ve only glimpsed it.”
Dean knows he’s got to check it out, knows Sam’s probably held there on account of him being disobedient, when really he just can’t hear a damn thing.
“Thanks,” Dean whispers, giving him a pat on the shoulder before turning back around to see Cas watching him curiously.
“Go to breakfast, wherever that is, and I’ll follow straight after.”
“Dean--”
“Go, Cas,” Dean interrupts, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek, before turning around and filtering his way through the crowd. He slips out of the hall and walks forwards, not making eye contact with any Officials. The hallway is packed with people, and it’s not difficult to slip into a side corridor down towards the kitchens. He hasn’t been this way before and constantly looks over his shoulder, but it looks as if the Officials are busy escorting everyone to and from the assembly hall.
He carries on past the silver doors that lead into the back of the kitchens and heads forward down to the end of the corridor. There’s a large door marked ‘Security Isolation Wing’ that he gently pushes open.
He lets it open an inch and he can see the bars of cells, and a slumped figure in the one nearest to him. He carries on scanning down the cells, opening the door a little wider, when he sees the movement of an Official, flicking through a magazine at the desk. He freezes and lets out a slow breath.
The Official doesn’t seem to have noticed him, and he keeps the door held open, just a few inches, while he looks down at the other cells. Something thumps in his chest when he sees floppy brown hair in the center cell and he knows, knows without seeing his face that that’s Sam.
There’s a desk a few meters away from the door that nobody is using, and on the corner, Dean can see a small box of matches. He's itching to grab them, and he moves forward into the room, holding the door open behind him with one leg, and leans forward slowly, eyes on the magazine that the Official is holding up to his face. All it would take is for the Official to lower the magazine and he’d get caught. Feeling the pressure he quickly grabs the matches, slips them into his pocket, and backs out of the room.
He slowly lets the door shut and turns around, walking briskly back towards the assembly hall. “Shit, shit, shit,” he murmurs to himself, feeling the matches in his pocket, and slows down as he filters back into the crowd, which is now thinning. The Officials don’t take any notice of him and he keeps his head down, feeling paranoid and angry and anxious all at the same time.
They walk down towards the front of the kitchens around the other side, and he walks through a marked door that reads ‘Eating Hall’. Once inside he scans the crowd until he sees Cas in the queue holding an empty bowl.
Dean grabs a bowl and moves his way along the queue, slipping in front of Cas and glaring back at anyone behind that murmurs anything about him being there. They stop as soon as he stares at them and then he moves back to Cas and, at waist level, he moves his hands to say, I saw Sam.
Cas’ eyes widen and he leans forward and whispers, “Where?” into his ear.
Dean looks around to make sure nobody is listening but the line is now moving so he turns around to walk up, and leans back towards Cas when they’re stopped again.
“It’s like this prison block,” he says. “I also manage to, uh, swipe something.”
Cas’ eyes widen further. “What?”
Dean signs fire to him and it takes a moment before Cas silently mouths the word, “Matches?”
“I thought they’d come in handy,” Dean whispers over his shoulder when they start moving again.
Cas doesn’t say anything and they reach the front of the queue, holding out their bowls to receive a ladle-full of porridge. Dean moves along, collects an empty cup and a spoon, and sits down at an empty table with Cas beside him. He sends warning glares to anyone who looks towards them and turns back to Cas.
Cas picks up the jug of water in the center of the table and fills up their cups before he speaks.
“You are insane, Dean Winchester,” he says, and Dean shrugs, eating a spoonful of porridge. “Come on, then. What’s your plan?”
Dean smiles at him and looks around. Quietly, he says, “We need to revolt. In an organized way,” he says quickly, before Cas can start to protest. “I mean, it’s going to be trickier with the younger ones, but we’ll start with getting everyone in our sleeping room onboard.”
Cas looks at him thoughtfully and nods slowly. “Okay,” he says, moving his spoon around the bowl. “Are you thinking about overpowering them?”
“I’m thinking more of creating a distraction,” Dean says, eating down some more of his porridge before it goes too cold. “We get a couple of fights started, some sort of riot, and that’ll give me enough time to go into the place where Sam is, grab the keys when the guard isn’t looking - another distraction for that - and get them all out of there.”
Cas is about to say something when a girl walks over to their table and sits down in front of them. Dean doesn’t say anything, just levels a stare, and she looks back, undisturbed.
“You look like good guys to stick by,” she says, pouring herself some water.
“What gives you that idea?” Dean asks, before shoveling down more porridge.
“Call it a hunch,” she says. “Maybe the fact you two stand out a mile with the way you don’t look frightened, and everyone is avoiding you. Might wanna mix in a little better than that.”
Dean glances around to see she’s right and he lowers down the intimidation and little bit.
“Your point?” Dean asks.
“My point,” she says, leaning forward, “is that I want to be involved. In getting out of here.”
Dean sits back and gives a little shrug, going back to eating his food. “Impossible,” he says. “No way out of here.”
“Please,” she says, rolling her eyes. “All it needs is a leader and enough kids to revolt, and we’ve got an uprising on our hands.”
“What are you proposing?” Cas asks, and Dean shifts uncomfortably, wondering if maybe he’d spoken a little too loud.
“Keep me in the loop. I’ll help, as long as it gets me out of here.”
Dean looks towards Cas and they share a long look, before Dean says, “We haven’t got a plan. Not yet.”
She purses her lips. “Well, better start getting one, because I’m not staying here forever.”
She stands up with her bowl and moves away from the table. “My name’s Ruby. Find me when you get it sorted.”
Dean watches as she walks away and goes to sit down at a table of girls on the other side of the hall.
“She’s making friends quickly,” Dean mutters, pushing his bowl away.
“I think we need to be careful,” Cas offers, staring around. They eat the rest of their meal in silence before they’re escorted back to Room 10. An hour later they’re taken outside and told to do laps around the field, which Dean does without complaint just because he hasn’t been able to stretch his legs lately and it gives him time to think over his plan.
He spends the rest of the afternoon thinking it over, and Cas sits beside him doing the same. After dinner, which is much the same affair as breakfast, Dean sits next to Cas on his bottom bunk and he tells him his plan.
“I’ve got an idea,” he says, taking Cas’ hands in his. “It’s as perfect as I can get it. There are still some areas I’m not sure about, but I’ve got a way of getting Sam.”
“Tell me,” Cas says, watching him intently.
“We wake up for a normal day. Eat, come back here, exercise, then come back here. At that point, two people will start an argument - the first diversion. An Official will come inside, at which point the fighting will get worse--”
“That’s when you slip out?”
“That’s when we slip out,” Dean says, keeping his voice low. “This is the first tricky bit - getting from Room 10 down to Sam. We’ll set something on fire, which will set off the fire alarms, and the smoke will start the sprinklers. Diversion number two.”
“That will give us... ten minutes maximum to save Sam,” Cas says, quietly, lacing his fingers through Dean’s. “That’s not a lot.”
“It’s all we’ve got,” Dean says. “We get the kids from the prison block out, and into the front where all the buses are parked, where I’m pretty sure we’ll all be escorted because of the fire. This is where we have to act fast.
Before they realize the kids from the cells are gone, we need to be getting out of there. It’ll be chaos outside. We’ll get Ruby to make sure she’s starting fights, and other people are too. We’ll wait until the gates open for the fire engines, and then we’ll run for it.”
“That’s it?” Cas says after a long pause. “That’s dangerous.”
“I can’t think of anything else.”
“Not everyone will make it out,” Cas says, glancing around.
Dean shakes his head and says, “They don’t have to know that.”
Cas realizes what he’s saying, and he’s expecting for him to protest, for him to tell Dean he can’t give them false hope. Instead he just nods, and leans forward and kisses him on the lips.
“I trust you,” Cas says, against his mouth.
Dean shuts his eyes. “I know.”
That evening they tell some of the people in their room of their plan, in hushed tones, and they seem dubious but agree to keep the Officials occupied if and whenever they can. They keep their plan private after that, deciding that the less people who know, the more chance they have of getting out.
Dean doesn’t get a lot of sleep that night, and he spends most of it curled around Cas beneath the covers, not wanting to waste any moment spent with him.
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