AN: Okay, so I was bored and this was born! I'm not going to finish it so you'll never know how it ends... MWUHAHA (plus I'm too lazy to finish it) On with the story!
Disclaimer: Gosh darn it, how many times do have to say it?
They'd been on the road for nine hours straight. Sam was hunched up, as best as he could, in his seat with his knees pulled tightly up to his chest and snoring gently. Dean was blinking repeatedly, the grey road in front of him getting harder and harder to concentrate on. The radio was on quietly in the background, playing rock hit after rock hit, with a loud enthusiastic man getting excited over them in between. Everything seemed hazy and dreamlike and Dean wondered if it was time for him to have another rare four hours of sleep. Keeping an eye out for a motel on the side of the road, Dean continued to drive. Another hour went by and Sam continued to snore. Dean's head was dipping over and over again. As he slowly drifted into sleep, he jolted upwards, snorting.
"Okay, Dean, time to pullover," he muttered to himself. He scanned the road ahead for a layby before spotting one about 500 yards down. He pulled over gratefully and turned the Impala's engine off before leaning back in his seat. Dean looked over at his brother. "G'night Sammy," he smiled and rested his head on the window.
The voice was desperate, screaming, sobbing, calling out. "Dean! Dean, they've got me! Please, let me go, leave me alone! Dean! D-NO, LEAVE ME ALONE, NO, NO! PLEASE, NO! DEAN!" Then there was a thud, a loud sickening thud and the commotion stopped, leaving a deadly silence instead.
Dean twitched awake from his dream. Sam.
"S'my? Sam?" he looked over to where his brother had been the previous night. He was gone. "Sammy!" He slammed the car door shut and shaded his eyes with his hand, looking across the desolate wasteland that surrounded the desert road.
No sign of his brother anywhere. "Damnit, Sam!" he shouted to no-one in particular. Dean looked around again, hoping for anything, anything whatsoever, to show how his brother had disappeared. Had he run off? Had he been kidnapped again? Dean ticked off all possible answers on his fingers. No, Sam wouldn't have left by choice; no fool would want to be in the Sonoran Desert alone, with no water or food. That meant he'd been taken. Again. Couldn't Sam stay out of trouble for at least a few weeks? Then, on the horizon Dean spotted something, something blue. He sprinted towards it, his heart in his mouth, hoping it wasn't his little brother. As he came nearer, Dean squinted at the object and then dropped down onto his knees next to it, . It wasn't his brother, it was even worse: his brothers faded blue hoodie, stained with blood that was still warm.