Dean stood outside the motel in the cold light of morning, all his good feelings of earlier blown away by the realization that Sammy was missing.

Sammy. Missing.

And hurt. Maybe badly.

Dean grimaced. Dammit. He should have never stayed out all night like that. Why hadn't Sam told him what was going on? He'd never keep that to himself. There could only be one explanation - by the time Dean texted him, Sam was already gone.

Wait. Hold up.

Sam had answered him though. Had the shit gone down afterward?

He pulled his brother's phone from his pocket and pulled up his texts.

Deleted, apparently.

Dean knew then. Sam was long gone before Dean had tried to reach him, and Dad … Dad must have …

"Shit, Sam." Dean muttered. "That sonofabitch played me."

He shook his head, moving to the Impala and popping the trunk. He dropped his duffle next to the garbage bag full of clean clothes and swore again when he realized Sam didn't even have clean clothes with him.

"Everything okay?" a voice asked from the sidewalk.

Dean looked up, seeing a woman of about 40 standing on the walkway in front of their motel room. He frowned, confused. "Yeah. Why wouldn't it be?"

She hesitated, her hand going to the hair of the little girl who stood in front of her. They both carried bags, and it looked as though they were checking out. "Well … I just …"

Dean closed the trunk, waiting.

She shrugged, "I don't know. I was worried about the other boy - the one with the dark hair. Is … is he okay this morning?" She smiled nervously. "I'm sorry if it's none of my business. It's just a mom thing. I mean … he was crying and all."

Dean's heart plummeted. "That was my brother. He's missing. What did you see?" He asked, coming closer.

The woman's hand went to her mouth as she gasped. "Oh no! I'm sorry … I … I wanted to help him." She looked as though she was about to cry.

"It's okay. If you can just tell me what you saw, what happened last night … I need to find him."

She nodded, making an effort to calm herself. "I heard the shouting, you know? Through the walls? And when I heard the door open, I looked out. I saw the boy rolling across the parking lot."

Dean gritted his teeth.

He … he stood up and faced the other man, his father, I think?"

Dean nodded.

"And he was crying and holding his forehead and apologizing. Said something about cleaning. I think … I think maybe he'd refused to do his chores or something."

Dean stiffened, "He apologized?"

She nodded, "He did. Several times. He pleaded with his father to let him back in. But …"

Dean waited, "What?"

"Well, the man just threw a gym bag at him. Hit him right in the face. I called the police then. I mean, nobody deserves that kind of treatment."

Dean's eyes widened. The police. Oh shit. Social Services. He stepped closer, suddenly frantic. "Did they take him? Did the police take Sam?"

She shook her head. "No, he was gone by the time they finally showed up. I talked to them, and I think they knocked on your door, but no one answered."

"But you're sure? You saw him leave on his own?"

"Yes. I stepped out and asked him to come inside. I have some training, you know, in first aid. The boy was a mess. But he just smiled this sad smile and said he was okay. He walked off into the woods over there." She pointed.

Dean looked. "Did the police search the woods?"

She shook her head sadly. "No. They just .. they sort of blew it off when no one answered the door."

"You said you have training in first aid? Did Sam look … I mean … you think he's okay this morning?"

She bit her lip. "I honestly don't know. There was so much blood on his face. I couldn't really tell where it was coming from. I think … I think he had a cut on his forehead and that his nose was bleeding, but I'm not positive."

Dean struggled to lock down his emotions with that statement, but he could tell from the woman's reaction that his face must have betrayed him.

"Look," She said, stepping forward and placing a hand on his shoulder. "My husband is inside. Let me get him to come out and help you. You're going to search the woods aren't you?"

He stood staring at the thick expanse of trees that backed the motel. How would he ever find Sam in that mess? He sighed, deciding. "Uh, I'm not sure yet. If I do, maybe I'll come back?"

She nodded in sympathy. "Sure. Checkout is 11:00 am. If you need help, we'll be here til then, okay?"

Dean nodded.

"I can call 911 again?" She offered.

"No!" Dean was quick to answer. "That's okay. Sammy, he's … he's sort of my responsibility, you know? I'll find him."

She looked reluctant to let it go. "Well, okay. But remember. We can help. Your brother - he helped my little girl yesterday. Rowan just stepped out to get her bear out of the car, and a bee stung her. She's not allergic or anything, but you know kids." She smiled, rubbing her daughter's hair indulgently. "Rowan thought she was dying. Your brother, he scooped her up and brought her to the door, bear and all." The woman smiled. "He's a nice boy, your brother."

Dean smiled then, not surprised that his brother's big, goofy heart hadn't gone unnoticed. Too bad his dad couldn't see it. "He is. Thanks for trying to … you know … help."

She nodded, "Sure. I hope you find him right away." She nudged the little girl onward toward their vehicle. "We'll just be loading up if you need us."

Dean nodded, turning away. His eyes fell again on the thick canopy of trees, and he shuddered.

Sammy hated camping.