The wind rustled Dean's hair slightly as it swept past him through the park. He was standing under an ancient oak, looking out at nothing in particular, lost in his thoughts. Usually his mind was always in motion, thinking ahead of what to do next and always aware of what was around him. But occasionally that all just stopped and he would feel disconnected from the world, a vague sense that he was forgetting something hovering in his mind. For a few brief moments he wasn't there.

"Daddy! Daddy!" a little voice shrieked in the familiar tone of a frightened little girl. Dean snapped out of it and turned to see his daughter Layla running towards him, her brother John hot on her heels. "Daddy, he's a monster! He's trying to eat me!" she shouted as she ran up and into his outstretched arms. "Eat you?" he exclaimed as he stood and brought her safely out of her brother's reaching distance. "John, are you trying to eat your sister?" The little boy snarled like a beast and then nodded with a grin so much like his father's. "Save me daddy! Save me!" Layla cried and buried her face in Dean's shoulder. Dean smiled then made a phony frightened face and replied, "Oh no, but I can't Layla, he's too scary and I have no weapon! Oh no love, he'll eat us both now! What ever shall we do? Who will save us?"

"I will!" their mother shouted as she jumped from behind the tree and proceeded to tickle her son. "I know his weakness, he can be fought with the power of tickles!" John laughed and fell to the ground as Melinda continued to attack him. "Hurray!" Dean and Layla shouted with arms in the air and then fell to the ground beside them and began to help. After a few minutes of playful tickling and screaming Dean ended up on top of his wife and they stared at each other for a few seconds before Dean said, "John, Layla go play tag now okay?" The children hopped up and John decided to let his little sister chase after him for a bit. Dean focused on his wife again and she smiled playfully. "What prize does your rescuer receive for saving your life?" she asked. He smiled back and leaned in closer till their lips were barely touching and said, "How 'bout this," then he kissed her and she threw her arms around his neck in glee. "Mmmm," she murmured after he pulled away, "That's a fine prize, but I could think of something a little better." She raised an eyebrow in suggestion. "Darling," he replied, "In public? Again? Remember what happened the last time, we don't want the city to ban us like Disneyworld did do we?" She pouted and answered, "I guess not, plus we don't want to emotionally scar the children." He laughed and kissed her again before helping her to her feet.

After brushing the autumn leaves from their clothes they hooked an arm around each other's waist and began to head in the direction their children were playing. "So are you going to make me slave over a stove tonight or can we order out for dinner?" she asked. "Hmm, I don't know, I let you slack off too much and then I'll never get a home cooked meal anymore," he answered and then hissed in pain as she playfully pinched him under the arm. "Okay, okay, I take it back." "Good," she replied then snuggled closer to him. "I was thinking pizza, the works…" Melinda's voice suddenly seemed to drift away until Dean could no longer hear her. He was staring at a black classic car parked across the street. He knew it somehow, he couldn't remember why, but he knew that car. Suddenly a memory flashed into his mind, of him driving that same car with someone in the passenger seat; a young man with brown hair and green eyes. He started as more memories came, almost pushing through some sort of fog, memories of fire and death and open road, spirits and Sam and his father. "Arg!" He shouted and pushed away from Melinda roughly, holding a hand to his now throbbing head. "Dean? Dean what's wrong? Dean!" she cried out in worry, the children stopped and starred back at their parents. "Get away! Get away from me!" he shouted as she tried to reach out for him. "Dean?" she asked, but he stumbled back and shouted, "This isn't real. None of this is real damn it! Get away!" "Dean you're scaring me, please tell me what's wrong!" She tried to reach out for him again but he shoved her back harshly. "You are not real," he said then pointed to their children and said, "They are not real." Melinda felt tears brimming in her eyes. "Dean what is wrong with you? Why are you doing this?" He ignored her and looked around the park for the culprit, his vision beginning to blur and spin. "It isn't working!" he shouted. "I know the truth! I remember!" The sky became dark and he turned around at the sound of a growl. A dark figure was striding across the lawn towards him. He made it to where Melinda stood then walked right through her. She seemed to cry out without sound and then shimmer away. The children faded to nothing, looks of terror on their faces. "Ha!" Dean shouted as the figure continued to advance. "You didn't trick me." The figure said nothing; he reached out towards Dean and firmly grasped his neck in one huge, chain mail covered hand. Dean's look of triumph faded to pain and fear. "I will," a dark and deep voice replied and then he reached up and held another mail-covered hand to Dean's forehead and blinding pain shot through the front of his brain.

Somewhere in an abandoned warehouse, situated on the east docks of some city, Dean Winchester screamed out in pain, but there was no one to hear him. His battered, bruised, body was kneeling on the molding floor, his hands behind his back chained to a pole. He screamed again and threw his head back, just barely missing the pole, but his eyes never opened. A dark and evil being had control of his mind and had only just begun to slowly torture him with images of a life he could have had and fate he most surely will. Across the river and far on the edge of this city Sam Winchester sat in a crappy motel room, his head in his hands, trying to think of some way to find and rescue his older brother. Nothing was coming to him and he was running out of time.