A young male woke up, groaning. He slowly sat up, putting a hand to his head. He looked around. He didn't know where he was. It was dark. All he could see was the road he was sitting on, and lots of trees. He decided to try to walk to the nearest town and find out where he was. He started to stand up when a car came into view and was heading towards him, and fast. He quickly stood up and waves his arms in the air. "Hey! I need help!" he said.

When the lights of the car hit him, the car quickly screeched to a halt, stopping only inches from him. He couldn't see who was in the car, but whoever was in there quickly got out. "What in the hell do you think you're doing, standing in the middle of the road like that?" he asked, sounding slightly irritated. The young male recognized the voice, but he couldn't tell from where. His head was a bit fuzzy from whatever happened to him.

"Sorry, I just need some help. I don't know where I am, or how I got here. Also, do I know you? You sound really familiar, but I can't tell from where," he said, trying to make sense of things.

"No, there is no way you know me. And we're near Stanford University. Have you been drinking or something?"

"God, no. I'm too young for that. I'm only 17. This makes no sense. How can I be near Stanford? I was at home, in New York, watching TV, and it was ten in the morning. How can I go across the entire country and not know how I got here?"

"You tell me, kid. Why don't I take you to the nearest hospital or whatever, and see what's wrong with you. But first, we're gonna to the school to pick up my brother."

"Okay, that sounded very familiar. As much as your voice. Ugh! Why is my head all fuzzy?"

"Can't tell you. Now, come on, get in. Back seat, though. Passenger seat is for my brother." The young male nods even though he still can't see his face. He gets in the car as the yet-to-be-named man gets in. He starts the car and starts driving. "So, kid, can you tell me your name?" he asked.

"Uh, Brett," he says, still confused on what's going on.

"Nice to meet you, Brett. I'm Dean."

Brett suddenly realized why everything was so familiar. "You're Jensen Ackles!" he yelled out quickly, excitement in his voice.

He accidentally made Dean swerve the car for a second from how sudden and loud he said it. "Who in the hell is Jensen Ackles? What kind of name is Ackles, anyway?"

"Uh, you. You're Jensen Ackles. You are an actor who plays Dean Winchester in Supernatural. He hunts the supernatural with his younger brother Sam."

Dean quickly pulled the car over, grabbed a gun from the glove compartment and pointed it at Brett. "How the hell do you know that?!" he asked, anger in his voice. It made Brett scared. He didn't know what was going on. He didn't know why a famous TV actor would get angry like this and point a gun at him.

"Y-you're famous with a whole ton of fangirls."

"No, me and Sam are not famous. We are not actors on some TV show. Do not lie to me."

"But I'm not. What other explanation would there be?"

"Oh I don't know, maybe you're a demon."

"Then pour some holy water on me. See if it burns me."

Dean seems to think about it for a second, before groaning and setting the gun down. He then started driving again. As he thought about it, Brett slowly realized that he was not meeting the actor who played Dean Winchester, but the real Dean Winchester himself. He realized he somehow traveled to a different reality, similar to The French Mistake, an episode that came to his mind.

"Why did you put the gun down?" he asked him.

"Because someone who is possessed by a demon wouldn't willingly ask to get burned like that. Now tell me how in the hell you know about me and my brother and what we do. The truth, this time."

"Technically, I already have, but I'll give another explanation, but you won't believe me and will think I'm crazy or something."

"Try me. I've seen enough crazy the last 22 years."

"I come from a different reality, or universe, or whatever you want to call it."

"Different reality? I make kill things most people think are fake, but I draw the line at that."

"It's true though."

"Oh really? Where's the proof?"

"Well, I don't exactly have physical proof, but I know everything that's going to happen with you and Sam for the next 12 years."

"What? So you're some psychic or something and you can see into the future?"

"No, where I come from-"

"This is just a TV show, yeah, you already said that. Prove it."

"You're going to Stanford to pick up Sam cause your dad has been gone on a hunting trip for the last few days and you want Sam to help look for him. You're going to go to Jericho cause of some coordinates your dad sent."

"Okay, all of that may be true, but that isn't exactly proof. I'm gonna need more than that."

"How can I give proof on this?"

"You know what? I don't know. Until we get to Stanford, could you just keep your mouth shut? I need to wrap my head around all this." Brett put his head down and remained quiet like Dean asked.

Sometime later, they pulled up into the parking lot of an apartment building, which Brett recognized as where Sam was staying with his girlfriend, Jessica. Dean turned the car off and looked at Brett. "Stay in here. I don't want Sam questioning me on why I have some kid here with me. Not yet, anyway." Before Brett could say anything, Dean got out of the car and headed inside.

Despite the situation he was in, he felt very excited that he was meeting the real Dean Winchester, and that he will meet Sam. He closed his eyes and breathed slowly to calm himself down.

After several minutes, he heard Dean from a distance. "So what are you gonna do? You're just gonna live some normal, apple pie life? Is that it?" He looked out of the window and saw Dean walking with Sam.

"No, not normal. Safe," Sam said.

"And that's why you ran away."

"I was just going to college. It was Dad who said if I was gonna go I should stay gone. And that's what I'm doing."

"Yeah, well, Dad's in real trouble right now. If he's not dead already. I can feel it." Dean seems to wait for Sam to answer, but he doesn't. "I can't do this alone."

"Yes, you can."

"Yeah, well, I don't want to," Dean say after a moment of silence.

Both of the brothers remain silent for a few seconds, Sam seeming to think about something. "What was he hunting?"

Dean opens the trunk and looks for something. "Alright, let's see, where the hell did I put that thing?" he says to himself.

"So when Dad left, why didn't you go with him?"

"I was working my own gig. This, uh, voodoo thing, down in New Orleans."

"Dad let you go on a hunting trip by yourself?"

"I'm twenty-six, dude." He grabs something and shows it to Sam as Brett listens. "All right, here we go. So Dad was checking out this two-lane blacktop just outside of Jericho, California. About a month ago, this guy. They found his car, but he vanished. Completely MIA."

"Well, maybe he was kidnapped."

"Yeah, well, here's another one in April. Another one in December 'oh-four, 'oh-three, 'ninety-eight, 'ninety-two, ten of them over the past twenty years." Dean puts the newspapers he pulled out away. "All men, all the same five-mile stretch of road." He pulls out something else from the trunk. "It started happening more and more, so Dad went to go dig around. That was about three weeks ago. I hadn't heard from him since, which is bad enough. Then I got this voicemail yesterday." He pushes a button and it plays, but Brett can't hear what it's saying, but he knows what it is.

"You know there's EVP on that?" Sam asked.

"Not bad, Sammy. Kinda like riding a bike, isn't it?" After a second of no response, he continues talking. "All right. I slowed the message down, I ran it through a gold wave, took out the hiss, and this is what I got." He plays it again, but again, Brett can't hear it.

"Never go home," Sam says.

Dean puts everything away and closes the trunk. "You know, in almost two years I've never bothered you, never asked you for a thing."

Brett hears Sam sigh. "Alright. I'll go. I'll help you find him. But I have to get back first thing Monday. Just wait here."

"What's first thing Monday?" Dean asks.

"I have this...I have an interview."

"What, a job interview? Skip it."

"It's a law school interview, and it's my whole future on a plate."

"Law school?"

"So we got a deal or not?" When Dean doesn't say anything, he just goes back inside.

Dean climbs into the car and looks in the mirror and jumps when he sees Brett. "Jesus, kid! I forgot you were in here!"

"I could tell. I'm surprised Sam didn't see me while you were talking."

"Yeah, me too. Now, just don't say anything unless you have to."

For the next several minutes, they just waited in silence for Sam to get out. When he finally came out, he stopped a few feet from the car, a confused look on his face. "What are you waiting for, Sammy? Get in," Dean said.

Sam walked to the window of the car. "Dean, who's the kid?"

"Oh, uh, this is Brett. He's gonna be with us until I figure out what to do with him."

"What do you mean?"

"Let's just say he knows about us and what we do. I found him on the road on my way here. I was gonna take him to the hospital, but he started talking about us and Dad and how we're going to look for him."

"Have you checked to see if he's a demon?"

"He offered to get splashed with holy water, and no demon would do that knowing they would get burned, so there's no way he's a demon."

"Okay, why don't you just take him home?"

"He has no home," Dean lied.

"Seriously? You don't have a home?" Sam asked him.

"No. I'm homeless," Brett said, also lying.

"And how is it you know about us?"

"Let's just say me and dad's reputation precedes us. He must've been somewhere me and dad saved and heard someone talk about us."

"Then how did he find us?"

"I found him. It was just purely coincidence that he happened to be there."

"Okay," Sam said, a hint of suspicion in his voice. He got in the car, Dean starting it and driving towards Jericho, California.