Author's Note: So its summer time and I'm back! I had to prioritize school work over this : ( So I should be updating slightly more frequently now!

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Supernatural or any of its characters. Script and characters do not belong to me.

Dean goes back over to Sam without taking his eyes off Jess. Sam watches him, his expression stony.

"Anyway, I gotta borrow your boyfriend here, talk about some private family business," Dean said, "But, uh, nice meeting you."

"No," Sam interceded. Sam goes over to Jess and puts an arm around her. "No, whatever you want to say, you can say it in front of her."

"Does she know?" Dean asked again, mostly to himself. He glanced over at Sam, who merely shook his head once more. He wasn't surprised, he was mostly talking to himself, but it still annoyed him that nobody bothered to even acknowledge him.

"Okay," Dean said slowly, turning towards them to look at them both straight on. "Um. Dad hasn't been home in a few days."

An uneasiness spread across the room, painting all of the hunters' faces. They all knew that whatever was going on, wasn't good.

"So he's working overtime on a Miller Time shift. He'll stumble back in sooner or later," Sam said. Dean ducks his head and looks back up.

"Wow, Sammy," Dean said, lightness somewhat in his voice, but it was also coupled with confusion. Why would Sam write off dad being missing so easily?

"What?" Sam said, but after that, kept his mouth pursed shut.

"Dad's on a hunting trip. And he hasn't been home in a few days," Dean said. Sam's expression doesn't change while he takes this in. Jess glances up at him.

Dean and Sam glanced over at John, whose forehead was creased ever so slightly, the only sign of discomfort evident on his face.

"Jess, excuse us. We have to go outside."

OUTSIDE APARTMENT

INT. STAIRWELL – NIGHT

Sam and Dean head downstairs. Sam has put on clothes by now, and is wearing a hoodie and some jeans.

"I mean, come on. You can't just break in, middle of the night, and expect me to hit the road with you," Sam said.

"You're not hearing me, Sammy. Dad's missing. I need you to help me find him."

"You remember the poltergeist in Amherst? Or the Devil's Gates in Clifton? He was missing then, too. He's always missing, and he's always fine." Dean stops and turns around. Sam stops too.

John recognized only one of the instances, the poltergeist. Nasty hunt, but everybody ended up safe in the end. A small part of him told him that this wasn't the case this time, however. There had to be some reason that they were being shown this, and it probably wasn't a good one. But that led him to the bigger question, why exactly were they being shown this, and at this time?

Not for this long. Now are you gonna come with me or not?" Dean questioned.

"I'm not."

"Why not?"

"Yeah, Sam," John said, but there was no contempt in his voice, just hollowness. He cast an eye over to Sammy, just in time to catch a small flash of guilt over his eyes.

"I swore I was done hunting. For good," Sam replied, bluntly.

Dean blinked, unsurprised. Sam hadn't exactly been quiet in his opinion on hunting, and seeing that he had gotten away, he imagined it wouldn't be a temporary fix.

"Come on. It wasn't easy, but it wasn't that bad." Dean starts downstairs again. Sam follows.

"Yeah? When I told Dad I was scared of the thing in my closet, he gave me a .45," Sam said. Dean stops at the door to the outside.

Bobby sent a mild glare John's way, who blatantly ignored him, keeping his eyes centered on the screen. A tinge of pink fluttered to his cheeks, but that was his only response.

"Well, what was he supposed to do?"

"I was nine years old! He was supposed to say, don't be afraid of the dark," Sam protested.

Both screen Dean and real Dean turned and looked at Sam incredulously. "Are you serious?" Dean asked, a scoff apparent in his voice.

"Don't be afraid of the dark? Are you kidding me? Of course you should be afraid of the dark. You know what's out there."

"Damn straight," Dean said.

"Yeah, I know, but still. The way we grew up, after Mom was killed, and Dad's obsession to find the thing that killed her." Dean glances outside, not replying. "But we still haven't found the damn thing. So we kill everything we can find."

"Obsession?" John asked, a little offended.

"Dad, you have to remember that this really isn't me," Sam said, slowing his words, trying to emphasize the importance behind them, and of course, everybody understood that in the back of their minds, but there was truth that rang to every word and action that occurred on the screen. As impossible as it might've seemed, this was them.

"We save a lot of people doing it, too," Dean says. Sam doesn't say anything for a few moments.

"You think Mom would have wanted this for us?" Dean rolls his eyes and slams the door open.

Dean and John bristled.

EXT. PARKING LOT – NIGHT

There's a short flight of stairs from the door to the parking lot. Dean and Sam climb it.

"The weapon training, and melting the silver into bullets? Man, Dean, we were raised like warriors," Sam says. They cross the parking lot to the Impala.

"There's nothing wrong with that, Sammy," Dean said, almost sounding sad that he had to defend his life.

"Maybe for you," Sam muttered to himself.

"So what are you gonna do? You're just gonna live some normal, apple pie life? Is that it?" Dean seems slightly annoyed now.

"No. Not normal. Safe."

John shook his head. It wasn't safe. Nobody is safe in this world. It's not as if monsters go after only hunters, civilians get caught in the cross hairs too. The boys knew that, especially after this last hunt.

"And that's why you ran away." Dean looks away.

Dean pursed his lips.

"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," Sam said, defending himself.

"What?" Dean said, immediately jumping to his brother's defense. "Why would you say something like that?" John looked taken aback, but Sam appeared unsurprised, which worried John even more.

"Yeah, well, Dad's in real trouble right now. If he's not dead already. I can feel it." Sam is silent.

"I can't do this alone," Dean says.

Dean looked ashamed, and only Bobby noticed this, and let out a sigh as he stared at John.

"Yes you can," Sam said. Dean looks down, almost embarrassed.

Dean frowned again at the strained relationship that the future Sam and Dean had, sure they weren't always on the best of terms, but they always were willing to fight for one another, not just leave them.

"Yeah, well, I don't want to." Sam sighs and looks down, thinking, then up.

"What was he hunting?" Dean opens the trunk of the Impala, then the spare-tire compartment. It's an arsenal. He props the compartment open with a shotgun and digs through the clutter.

"All right, let's see, where the hell did I put that thing?" Dean mutters 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," Dean says nonchalantly.

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

"I'm twenty-six, dude," Dean said, giving Sam a pointed look. Dean pulls some papers out of a folder. "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." Dean hands one of the papers to Sam.

Sam opened his mouth to say something about Dean hunting alone to his dad, but decided against it. Dean looked a little happier now, knowing that he had some independence and have gained some trust from John.

"They found his car, but he vanished. Completely MIA."

The paper is a printout of an article from the Jericho Herald, headlined "Centennial Highway Disappearance" and dated Sept. 19th 2005; it has a man's picture, captioned "Andrew Carey MISSING." Sam reads it and glances up.

"So maybe he was kidnapped," Sam tries to reason.

"Seriously? You think dad would be after a person who kidnapped somebody?" Dean said. Sam shrugged, but looked slightly sheepish as he did so.

"Yeah. Well, here's another one in April. "Dean tosses down another Jericho Herald article for each date he mentions. "Another one in December 'oh-four, 'oh-three, 'ninety-eight, 'ninety-two, ten of them over the past twenty years."Dean takes the article back from Sam and picks up the rest of the stack, putting them back in the folder. "All men, all the same five-mile stretch of road." Dean pulls a bag out of another part of the arsenal. "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." Dean grabs a handheld tape recorder. "Then I get this voicemail yesterday." He presses play. The recording is staticky and the signal was clearly breaking up.

"Dean...something big is starting to happen...I need to try and figure out what's going on. It may... Be very careful, Dean. We're all in danger," John's voice comes over the recorder. Dean presses stop.

John leaned forward into his seat, looking to be concentrating more on the case than on anything else. He seemed to be the least concerned about his future self out of all of them.

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

"Good job, Sammy," Dean said, slapping Sam a little too hard on the back, but good naturedly.

"Not bad, Sammy. Kinda like riding a bike, isn't it?" Sam shakes his head.

"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 presses play again.

"I can never go home..." A woman's voice, raspy, comes over the speaker.Dean presses stop.

"Never go home," Sam repeats. Dean drops the recorder, puts down the shotgun, stands straight, and shuts the trunk, then leans on it.

"What is that?" Sam asked, mimicking John in his concern in the case. Bobby and John shook their heads in unison, acting as if they had never heard of it before.

"Ghost?" Dean piped up, casting a glance into John's direction. John placed a hand on his chin, rubbing the small stubble in concentration.

"It's a possibility."

"You know, in almost two years I've never bothered you, never asked you for a thing," Dean starts again. Sam looks away and sighs, then looks back.

"Two years?" Dean asked, this time actually surprised. Even John appeared surprised by this.

"All right. I'll go. I'll help you find him," Sam says. Dean nods.

Dean felt torn at this, yeah sure he wanted Sammy to come with him, jus the tow of them, but Sam was happy, he had a girl and a life.

"But I have to get back first thing Monday. Just wait here." Sam turns to go back to the apartment. He turns back when Dean speaks.

"What's first thing Monday?"

"I have this...I have an interview," Sam says hesitantly.

"Why are you so hesitant to tell us stuff?" Dean said.

"What, a job interview? Skip it."

"That's probably why."

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

"Law school?" Dean smirks.

"So we got a deal or not?" Sam says. Dean says nothing.

APARTMENT

INT. BEDROOM – NIGHT

Sam is packing a duffel bag. He pulls out a large hook-shaped knife and slides it inside. Jess comes into the room.

"Wait, you're taking off?" Jess questions. Sam looks up.

"Is this about your dad? Is he all right?"

"Yeah. You know, just a little family drama," Sam replies. Sam goes over to the dresser and turns on the lamp atop it.

Bobby scoffed a little louder than he thought he did, and three heads turned his direction, one in confusion, but the other two in humor.

"Your brother said he was on some kind of hunting trip," Jess says. She sits on the bed. Sam rummages in one of the drawers and comes out with a couple shirts, which go in the duffel.

"Oh, yeah, he's just deer hunting up at the cabin, he's probably got Jim, Jack, and José along with him. I'm just going to go bring him back," Sam says.

John glowered at the statement, Sam could've picked a better cover.

"What about the interview?" Jess asks.

"I'll make the interview. This is only for a couple days." Sam goes around the bed. Jess gets up and follows.

"Sam, I mean, please," Jess protests.Sam stops and turns. "Just stop for a second. You sure you're okay?" Sam laughs a little.

"I'm fine."

"It's just...you won't even talk about your family. And now you're taking off in the middle of the night to spend a weekend with them? And with Monday coming up, which is kind of a huge deal."

"Hey. Everything's going to be okay. I will be back in time, I promise," Sam said. He kisses her on the cheek and leaves.

"At least tell me where you're going," Jess says, but receives no answer.

Once again, Dean felt that twinge in his chest, something wasn't right.

CENTENNIAL HIGHWAY

EXT. CENTENNIAL HIGHWAY – NIGHT

Jericho, California

The Eagles of Death Metal's "Speaking in Tongues" plays. A YOUNG MAN, Troy, is driving down the highway, talking on his cell phone.

"Amy, I can't come over tonight. Because I've got work in the morning, that's why. ...Yeah, okay, I miss it and my dad's gonna have my ass," Tony says into the phone.A high-pitched whine sounds. Troy looks over and sees a woman in a white dress on the side of the road. She's moving as though dancing; she flickers, and for a moment she's gone. "Hey, ah, Amy, let me call you back?" Troy tries several times to turn off the radio, which is flickering. Nothing happens. Troy pulls up next to the woman, whose dress is torn in several places, and stops, leaning across the shotgun seat. "Car trouble or something?"

"Oh no," Sam whispered.

"Take me home?" The woman says.The voice is the same one from the altered voicemail. Troy opens the passenger door.

"It's the same girl from the tapes," Dean said, "What is she?"

"Sure, get in." The woman, who is barefoot, climbs in and closes the door. "So, where do you live?"

"At the end of Breckenridge Road," the woman replies. Troy nods.

"You coming from a Halloween party or something?" The woman's dress is very low-cut. Troy notices, stares, and looks away, laughing nervously.

Sam casts a glance over at Dean, and catches his eye, which only warranted a soft, faux offended glare from him.

"You know, a girl like you really shouldn't be alone out here," Troy said. She looks at him mournfully, seductively, and pulls her skirt up over her thigh.

"I'm with you." Troy looks away. The woman takes Troy's chin and turns his face towards her. "Do you think I'm pretty?" Troy nods, eyes stuck on her cleavage.

Sam noisily gagged.

"Uh...huh."

"Will you come home with me?" The woman says.

"Um. Hell yeah." He drives off.

EXT. ABANDONED HOUSE – NIGHT

They pull up to an old abandoned house at the end of a road. The woman stares at it sadly.

"Come on. You don't live here," Troy says.

"I can never go home."

"What are you talking about? Nobody even lives here. Where do you live?" Troy asks.He turns, and she's gone. He checks the back seat, also empty, and gets out of the car, nervous. "That's good. Joke's over, okay? You want me to leave?" Troy looks around: no signs of life except crickets. He walks towards the house. "Hello? Hello?" There's a picture of the woman and two children inside the house; the picture is covered in dust. Troy peers through the hole in the screen door. A bird flies at his face, scaring him into falling over. He yells, leaps to his feet, and runs back to the car. He gets in and drives off.

"Once again, is it a ghost?" Dean asked.

"I'm not sure yet, Dean," John said, slightly exasperated.

EXT. CENTENNIAL HIGHWAY – NIGHT

Troy looks behind him—no one's there—then in the rearview mirror. The woman is in the back seat. TROY yells again and drives straight through a "Bridge Closed" sign, stopping about halfway across the bridge. He screams. Blood spatters the windows.

Dean felt Sam jerk a little next to him, but nobody in the room said a word.

GAS STATION

EXT. GAS STATION – DAY

It is 1 Nov 2005. The Impala is parked in front of a pump. "Ramblin' Man" by the Allman Brothers plays. Dean comes out of the convenience mart carrying junk food. Sam is sitting in the shotgun seat with the door open, rifling through a box of tapes.

"Hey!" Dean says. Sam leans out and looks at him. "You want breakfast?"

"No, thanks."

"So how'd you pay for that stuff?" Sam asks. "You and Dad still running credit card scams?"

Dean and John looked at each other, somewhat sheepish.

"Yeah, well, hunting ain't exactly a pro ball career." Dean puts the nozzle back on the pump. "Besides, all we do is apply. It's not our fault they send us the cards."

"Yeah? And what names did you write on the application this time?"Sam swings his legs back inside the car and closes the door.

"Uh, Burt Aframian." Dean gets into the driver seat and puts his soda and chips down. "And his son Hector. Scored two cards out of the deal." Dean closes the door.

"That sounds about right. I swear, man, you've gotta update your cassette tape collection," Sam says.

"Hey!" Dean and John both said, and Dean slapped Sam in the shoulder. "Nobody disses my music."

There are at least a dozen cassettes in the box on Sam's lap; some have album art, others are hand-labeled.

"Why?"

"Well, for one, they're cassette tapes. And two." Sam holds up a tape for every band he names. "Black Sabbath? Motorhead? Metallica?" Dean takes the box labeled Metallica from Sam.

"And, what's wrong with that?"

"Next time in the car, Sam," John said, "I'm blasting the music all the way home." That was one of the first attempts at humor that either of the boys had heard from him in a long time, and Dean smiled a little.

"It's the greatest hits of mullet rock," Dean defended.

"Well, house rules, Sammy." Dean pops the tape in the player. "Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole." Dean drops the Metallica box back in the box of tapes and starts the engine.

Dean smirks, and Sam scowls.

"You know, Sammy is a chubby twelve-year-old." AC/DC's "Back in Black" begins to play. "It's Sam, okay?"

"Sorry, I can't hear you, the music's too loud."

Dean drives off.

Author's note two: Sorry, this is long overdue! I've picked about three or four episodes from this season to write next. But, it'll be a surprise! Special thanks to Phantom Ice, cyenthia 30, Tempermental18, the angel of darkness1, and Sissy VanderMeer. Your reviews are so greatly appreciated!

See ya soon!