Bob came in to collect Sam's urine. Sam had had ideas of his own, though, and not gone in the jars. Of course, there was no bathroom in the room, so that meant he had gone on the floor. Six times. Bob was not happy when he walked in.

"You're going to clean that up," he said as he grabbed Sam by the scruff of his neck. It had taken them two weeks to get another child after Amy had turned 18, and the king was running low. He would not be happy to have to wait any longer.

"You clean it up," Sam replied, acting braver than he felt.

Bob kept one hand firmly on the back of Sam's neck and hit him hard across the face with the other. "You'll do what I tell you boy," he said. He pushed Sam to the floor and pushed his face in one of the urine puddles. "Lap that up," he said.

When Sam didn't lap it up, Bob pushed his head down even further until his nose was in the puddle and held it there. "You're not moving, until it's cleaned."

Sam began lapping. He was almost sick several times before he got all the puddles up. "Are you going to pull that again?"

"No," Sam said. He was not going to have to lap that stuff again.

"Good," Bob said and left.

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

John, Bobby, and Dean walked into the police station and walked up to the next. "I need to report my missing son," John said.

"How old?' the officer asked.

"8 and a half," John answered.

"How long has he been missing?"

John hesitated. He had no idea. "Since last night," he said. That was his best bet.

"And you're just now reporting him?"

"I've been looking for him," John said defensively.

"Where did you last see him?" the officer said, for the moment ignoring the neglect.

John was beginning to see what a bad idea this was. "I had to leave town last night. My other son was watching him."

"This him?" the officer asked, indicating Dean.

"Yes, but he seems to have some sort of amnesia and can't remember anything past last year."

"Have you taken him to a doctor?" the officer asked concerned. If the father had been worried about his older son, it might explain why he hadn't yet reported his other son missing.

"No," John admitted.

"Where is their mother?" the officer asked.

"She died when Sam was a baby."

The officer sighed. He was going to have to call Child Services. This man was clearly neglecting his children. "I'm going to go get the missing person's form."

He went back to the office and called Child Services and then grabbed the form he needed. "What does your son look like?"

"He has brown hair, brown eyes and he's about 4 feet tall," John answered.

"Do you have a recent picture?"

John took out the picture he had been showing. "It's about six months old." It had all three of them in it. They were all sitting on the hood of the Impala with Sam in his lap.

"Nothing more recent?"

"I'm afraid I'm not much of a photographer," John admitted.

A woman came in. "My name is Linda and I'm from Children's Services," she introduced herself to the officer.

"This is the family I've been telling you about. I'll leave you alone, while I go put out an APB."

"Which of you is the father?" she asked looking from John to Bobby.

"I am," John answered.

"And you are?" she asked Bobby.

"Family friend."

"Dean," she said bending down. "I understand you can't remember anything for the last year. Why do you think that is?"

John rolled his eyes. How was he supposed to know why he couldn't remember when he couldn't remember?

"I don't know," Dean said.

John was glad he didn't add a smart-alec response to that. But, at the same time, he was worried by his lack of one. It wasn't like him. He must be worried about Sam.

"Where were you last night, Mr. Winchester?" she asked John.

"I was out of town," he answered.

"That's not very specific."

"I was in Lincoln."

"Doing what?"

Cleansing a house of a poltergeist. Yeah, that would go over well. "I'm a traveling salesman."

"And you were selling Christmas night? Did you spend the day with your children?"

"Yes," John lied.

"What did you do?"

"Normal Christmas stuff. Look, I don't have time for this. My son is missing," John spat out angrily.

"And the police are looking for him. My job is to find out why he is missing. And why your other son can't remember anything. I'd like to take him to the doctor's now."

"No," John said. "I'll take him."

"I don't think you understand. You don't really have a say in this. If you would cooperate, it would probably be less scary for Dean."

John sighed. "Fine," he said. As Linda led Dean out the door, John realized that they weren't going to give him back. He heard his own story in his head and it sounded ridiculous. They probably thought Dean was either traumatized by something John did, or was pretending so he didn't have to tell on his father.

"We have to get him before she takes him," John whispered to Bobby.

"What are you thinking?" Bobby asked.

"Your car's outside. Grab him and run. We'll get him to a doctor somewhere else. I've already lost one of my sons. I can't lose the other one."

John and Bobby walked outside. Linda was leading Dean to her car, which was luckily, parked right next to Bobby's car. Bobby went straight for his car. John ran up and grabbed Dean's arm. "Come on, Dean," he said and Dean broke away from Linda and ran over to Bobby with his father. They both jumped in the back seat and Bobby took off. Linda started running inside and screaming.