Sunday through Thurday the bar closed down by midnight. Per the usual the establishment played that old Semisonic song that Dean couldn't stand. At that point Andrew had been gone for fifteen minutes. They gathered up their jackets and made way for the exit. "Alright, we'll grab him and head back to the bunker, check in with Krissi and Aiden on their hunt, call it a night?" Dean said.

Sam nodded, "No arguing with that. They're probably just about there by now."

They stepped outside with all the other patrons and watched karma work her charm on The Redneck being, quite literally tossed out the door. As people caught their respective rides and the parking lot emptied they realized they were alone. "Where's Andrew?" Sam.

Dean looked around, "Not anywhere we can see." He stepped away to the other side of the bar. He knew full well that he was probably talking to his significant other and had sought out a quiet corner in order to do so.

Sam did a full scope of the area from the Impala and didn't see anything. Dean returned with nothing. Now they were on full-alert and Dean was getting anxious. He whipped out his phone, to which Sam chuckled, "Traded numbers already?"

Dean dialed, "You could say that." The phone rang and they both heard the tone from the dark beyond the lot light. There was no one there. "Oh no." He jogged to the location of the phone only to see it ground, screen cracked. "Fuck!"

/ / /

The first thing he was aware of was that he on the floor of something moving. His head was hurting and his hands and feet were bound. Vision was out of focus as well. This was something he only expected to happen in movies. That idea pissed him off, because those things gloss over the pain part and made head injury seem like a fight over the comfort of shutting down, not fighting pain. He knew he didn't want to move.

He wanted to shut down for a moment, like his head and body wanted him to. Sleep sounded like a good option right now, but he had to think. This was serious. Andrew had to think really hard to what Dean had taught him. The first part was to stay alive. The second part was to stay calm and take in your surroundings. Andrew knew he was in a vehicle of some kind and it was dark. He couldn't see a damn thing. Maybe that was the blurred vision? Third was to take stock his body. The pain was a hint. Moving sucked so he stayed still. Fourth, look at your safe options. He was going to stay as still as possible, essentially play dead. It could help him get out of this mess.

Now he had four things to go on, but the first part was getting hard to do. Succumbing to the darkness and away from the throbbing in the back of his head was what he wanted to do. He would fight later. The last thing he was aware of before closing his eyes was a flash of blue eyes in the darkness coming right up to his face.

/ / /

The brothers returned to the bunker with a fierce purpose, Andrew's phone in Sam's hand, and Dean trying to get a hold of Charlie to hack into the bar's outside surveillance. She said it wouldn't take him long and didn't want or need any other explanation. Anything for her brothers, really.

Sam was already in the map room making notes and lists of possibilities. He had a few ideas of what it couldn't be, and one that for sure it wasn't, but Andrew was the newest development in their lives. News didn't travel that fast. Dean was outside trying to call Cas down, seeing if Angels had anything to do with it.

They knew there was foul play for sure. His son got jumped and they took him somewhere. Dean entered the bunker pissed.

"Cas have any ideas?" Sam asked.

Dean shot him a death glare, "Cas ain't answering right now." He looked down at the maps and theories Sam had drawn up in haste. "What do you think took him?"

"Not a ghost, not a monster or there would have been blood…" He could see that Dean was uneasy about that thought. There was no evidence left behind of what happened. For all he knew, his son could be getting tortured right now, or worse being painfully slow. "Look we don't know anything until Charlie calls, so we just need to keep an even keel."

"Easier said than done!" he snapped. Realizing what he said he toned it down some, "We shouldn't have stayed here, Sammy. We should have moved out of here years ago and stayed out of the radar and none of this would have happened. He wouldn't have found us."

While this was all true there was nothing they could do about it now. "We'll find him, Dean."

Sam's phone buzzed from the middle of the table. It was Charlie and he put the call on speaker. "What do you got, Charlie?" Dean asked.

"Okay, just to update, that bar has really shitty firewalls, didn't take me long at all but after sifting through a few hours of footage with some magic I found the six and half minutes that had your person of interest. I'm sending you the footage right now, Dean, so check your phone." This was business Charlie; less joking and more working. They came to rely on her more and more as their presence in Lebanon made it a little harder to put on the FBI monkey suits. If they really needed something, Charlie could provide.

Dean picked up his phone and opened the file that she sent them. The video was six and a half minutes too long for his taste. It began with Andrew looking through his phone under the light. He looked like he was making a phone call when out of the darkest corner, really fast, a hooded figure took a two-by-four to the back of his son's head. Andrew then dropped to the ground. After a minute of dragging him across the lot a white van showed up in the peripheral and the hooded figure jumped in the back, dragging Andrew's unconscious form in with him. That's when he saw his son's phone drop, the doors close, the flash in the hooded one's eyes.

Dean tossed his phone to Sam who watched the video as well. "Charlie, could you get a trace on the van?" he asked.

"Already ahead of you guys. I didn't have much as far as digits and letters but the plates were from Nebraska, but the plates don't belong to a white van." She continued, "The van is from Ohio."

"Then what do you figure?" Sam asked.

"Someone jacked the van, then stole the plates, then they made their way here."

Dean shook his head, "There are too many possibilities for us to find him, how the hell are we going to narrow that down."

"Chill dudes, when have I let you down? I just ran the details through my own resources and there has been only one plumber van stolen in the week and the plates were reported. The van belonged to a cleaner service on the outskirts of Napoleon, Ohio."

"And no one there has said anything there?"

"From what I gather, it's a red county and the cleaners are in the process of being sold, so perfect place to hide out, right? Full of skeptics and an empty building for sale."

Dean nodded, "Alright so the theories narrow down to four things, demons, angels, witches, and djinn. Awesome."

"At least you have a location, but you might want to hurry some because even with fifteen minutes jumpstart you already lost a few hours." She sighed, "Good lucks guys." And she hung up.

Dean huffed, "Alright, I don't think we have pissed off any witches in the past year. Haven't seen any Angel activity other than Cas being Cas. Also haven't seen any demon activity in the last week, which was odd already. Krissi and Aiden are on the djinn case…"

"Or maybe they aren't right now," Sam interrupted. He turned the phone toward his brother and had the frame zoomed up to the person of interest's hands. "Know any angel or demon with those kind of tattoos?"

Definitely a djinn. "Fuck."

Then they both started packing, leaving Andrew's phone behind on the table. It was the last thing they had on their mind in the moment.

/ / /

Andrew was a little more alert when he came to the second time. The pain was dull now which was a little bit of a relief, but he was still bound by his hands and feet. His jacket was missing and so were his shoes. The jacket he gets, but seriously, shoes? As more awareness came he took more stock of his situation. He was someplace dark with the scent of industrial laundry detergent in the air and, what that dead flesh? He was tied and chained down to a chair which was tilted back. Andrew could feel a presence in the room and continued to play the deadfish in the room. He would get his moment.

He heard some whispers in the dark, "They said just to keep them distracted long until they said we could let him go."

Another voice said, "Why should they get all the fun?" It was a harsh whisper. "They get what they want either way, we should just finish it right now. We have enough power we can finish them all, do it our way."

"That wasn't part of the deal!" the first one said.

"Screw the deal! They wouldn't be in this position if their boss had just done them in years ago, but nooo."

He heard a slap. So thing one and thing two disagree on a sales transation, Andrew thought. The presence, he could see through the slits in his eyes was a guy with tattoos on his face with luminescent eyes, crowded over top his face. He had a vial of something just as bright and shiny. Oh hell no. Andrew had to fight with what he had. The person in question reacted to Andrew's sudden movement and summoned thing two. "Hold him down while I get this in him," it snarled. Thing two forced his weight on Andrew's chest with one hand and the other on top of his face. The weight was incredible considering he wasn't completely on top of him. He had no training on these situations, but he saw something like this happen on that zombie show from when he was seven. Andrew bit the hand. He bit down on the web and didn't let go. Thing Two yelped in pain, but Andrew was going to make him think. More than likely they took him because of his relation to The Winchesters, but no one messed with them because they were still alive. He was going to make them think hard on who they were messing with, embracing his legacy for a moment. Andrew could taste the blood and then he released Thing Two, spitting out the red bile. "Fuck you," he slurred. He relished in Thing Two's reaction for a second before he felt the pinch in his left arm.

Before he felt the tug to sleep, he saw the shiny liquid being pushed into his arm. All was dark for about two seconds, then he was off into his earliest nightmare. His first actually, from when he was a kid. There stood Judge Doom and he looked around and saw his world being happy and literally animated. Then game the rush of green acid and he ran.

I thought I would get this in before I went off to work. This next week is going to kill me, but I did have an interview today so it's starting on a decent note. I hope you guys got the Who Framed Roger Rabbit reference, or I am going to feel soo old.