"I just don't understand, Dean" The voice sighed through the phone. "I should have realized what was going on from the beginning."

"I'm sorry." Dean said, for maybe the millionth time. But even he knew that no amount of "sorry's" could fix what had happened. It was his fault, it was all his fault. So why did his mother blame herself?

He heard a man behind him step over and tell him he had a minute left to speak. Dean nodded but didn't look at the man, he just continued to fiddle with the phone cord and took a deep breath.

"Mom, I've got to go, time's almost up."

Soon he heard the unmistakable sound of his mother choking back tears.

"I never thought…" A sob. "That I would have a time limit on how long I'd be able to talk to my son…" Silence. "I miss you honey. And…" A pause. "Sammy misses you too."

It was Dean's turn to fight back tears. Why did she have to bring up Sam? A tap on the shoulder from the man told him his time was up though, so Dean swallowed the lump forming in his throat and spoke softly into the phone.

"I really have to go now Mom."

"Oh honey, please, you have to know, I-"

"I know Mom." He cut her off. "I love you too. Tell Sammy I said hi."

He could hear her start to talk again but he knew it was time. Before she could say anymore, he hung up the phone.

. . .

It was a long walk through the halls. One guard in front, one behind him, was he really considered so dangerous that he needed escorts? Relax Dean, he told himself, it's just another thing you'll get used to. Yep. Another thing to get used to, another thing he'd learn to consider normal, another change. Just like the fact that everything was white. Or that he was basically in a prison. Or that he no longer had any privacy.

Finally, the man in front of him stopped and opened a door. He turned and held it open so Dean could enter.

The room was small and dark. There were two beds, a nightstand, and a closet. In the corner there was another door that opened to a tiny bathroom. It reminded Dean of an airplane bathroom.

"Well boy, this is your room. You'll find clothes in the closet and toiletries in the bathroom. Someone will stop by to give you a run-down on how it works here. You can go ahead and settle in, check out the room. Your roommate should be back at some point."

And just like that, his escorts were gone. Dean let out the breath he'd been holding and turned back to survey the room again. The bed to his left had clearly already been taken, so Dean sat on the one on the right. It wasn't as uncomfortable as he thought it would be, but it wasn't like his bed at home. Suddenly Dean found himself feeling very homesick.

He had nearly drifted off to sleep when the door suddenly opened. Dean opened his eyes and sat up quickly. There in the doorway, a boy stood. He stared at Dean for a moment, then looked away without a second thought and went into the bathroom.

Dean stared at where the other boy had been a second ago. All of a sudden, he realized that his heart was beating very hard. But he didn't have the same feeling that he usually had when he got worked up. This was different.

Dean couldn't shake the image of the other boy. Dean hadn't noticed much about him; mostly he had just seen his eyes. They had stared at Dean without blinking, and they were so blue. Dean didn't know how to describe them.

The other boy was still in the bathroom when a knock came at the door. Dean hesitated. Was he supposed to answer it? He decided he should when the knocking came again.

Upon opening the door, Dean found himself face to face with a shorter brown haired woman. She wore blue scrubs and a smirk on her face. He looked at her quizzically; what did she want?

"You the new guy?" She asked him. He nodded with a slight frown on his face. "Great, follow me."

Dean glanced behind him to see if there was anyone else she could be talking to, but of course there was no one. He turned back around and saw her looking at him expectantly.

"You coming?"

And with that, Dean followed her out the door and down the hall.