Chapter 10 - Dream A Little Dream of Me

Addison enters the bar with Dean behind her. They had spent the better part of the morning searching for Sam. She lets out a relived breath when she spots Sam sitting at the counter. She walks over to him and smacks his arm. "We've been looking everywhere for you," she tells him. "What are you doing?"

"Having a drink," Sam answers, then takes a sip of whiskey.

"At two in the afternoon? And why are you drinking whiskey?"

"I drink whiskey all the time."

"No you don't."

"What's the big deal, Addison? Dean gets sloppy in bars. He hits on chicks all the time. Why can't I?"

Addison rolls her eyes and sits down next to him. Dean looks around the virtually empty bar. "Slim pickings around here," he says, turning back to Sam. "What's going on with you?"

Sam looks down at the counter. "I tried, Dean."

"To do what?"

"To save you."

Dean sits on the empty stool next to him. He motions to the bartender. "Could I get a whiskey, double, neat."

"I'm serious, Dean."

"Sam, you're drunk," Addison points out.

"I mean, where you're going...what you're gonna become." They could see the tears in his eyes and Sam scoffs. "I can't stop it...I'm starting to think maybe even Ruby can't stop it. But really, the things is, no one can save you."

"What I've been telling you," Dean replies, picking up his drink.

"No," Sam says. "That's not what I mean. I mean, no one can save you because you don't wanna be saved. I mean, how can you care so little about yourself?" Dean scoffs and looks away. "What's wrong with you?"

Addison watches as Dean turns back to Sam. She could see that Dean was getting ready to finally open up. Then a phone rings. Dean sets his drink down before pulling out his phone. "Hello," he answers. "Yes, this is Mr. Sniderson." A shocked look appears on his face. "What? Where?"

Addison stood next to Sam with Dean on the other side of the bed that Bobby was lying in. They had rushed to Pennsylvania as fast as they could. The doctor was standing at the foot of the bed. "So, what's the diagnosis," Sam questions.

"We've tested everything we can think to test," the doctor answers. "He seems perfectly healthy."

"Except that he's in a coma," Addison counters.

The doctor nods, turning to Dean. "Mr. Sniderson, you're his emergency contact. Anything we should know? Any illnesses?"

"No, he — he never gets sick," Dean says. "I mean, he doesn't even catch a cold."

"Doctor, is there anything you can do," Sam asks.

The doctor sighs. "Look, I'm sorry, but we don't know what's causing it...so we don't know how to treat it. He just...went to sleep and didn't wake up."

Entering Bobby's motel room, Addison raises an eyebrow seeing that it was very clean. Their rooms were usually messy, with random weapons and sometimes clothes laying around the room. "Why do you think Bobby's in Pittsburgh," she asks, walking over to the mini fridge.

"Unless he's taking an extremely lame vacation..." Dean trails off, pulling open a drawer only to find it empty.

"I mean, he must have been working a job, right," Sam reasons. Addison opens a cabinet, but it's empty.

"Well, you think there'd be some sort of sign of something, you know," Dean says. "Research, news clippings...Or a fucking pizza box or beer can."

"Well, not everyone is like you, Dean," Addison remarks, causing him to glare at her.

Sam opens the closet and finds it filled with Bobby's clothes. "How bout this," he asks, moving the clothes. Dean and Addison join him to look. Newspaper clips, maps, and pictures of plants were hanging up.

Dean chuckles. "Good old Bobby. Always covering up his tracks."

"Either of you make heads or tails of any of this?"

Dean grabs a picture of a plant. "'Silene capensis,' which of course means absolutely nothing to me."

"Obit," Addison says, grabbing a newspaper article with a picture of a man. "'Dr. Walter Gregg, 64.' And he was a university neurologist."

"How'd he bit it?"

"Says that he went to sleep and didn't wake up," Addison answers.

Dean grabs the article from her. "That sound familiar to you two?"

"Alright, um..." Sam begins. "So, let's say Bobby was looking into the doc's death. You know, hunting after something—"

"That started hunting him."

"Yeah."

"Alright, stay here. See if you can make heads or tails of this."

"And what are you going to do," Addison asks.

"Look into the good doctor myself," Dean replies, before walking out of the room.

Addison walks over to Sam and wraps her arm around him. "Sam."

Sam chuckles. "I'll get the coffee and doughnuts." She stares at him, waiting. "Ads, when I have I forgotten the chocolate icing?"

She smiles. "Thank you."

Addison and Sam quietly enter Bobby's hospital room. Dean looks up and the three of them share a look. Bobby meant something to all of them and they didn't want to lose him. "How is he," Sam asks, as he and Addison move closer to the bed.

Dean rubs his face. "No change. What you got?"

"Well, considering what you told us about the doc's experiments...Bobby's wall is starting to make a hell of a lot more sense."

"How so?"

Addison grabs the picture of a plant out of the file Sam was holding. "Silene capensis aka African Dream Root. It's been used by shaman and medicine men for centuries," she explains.

"Let me guess. They dose up, bust out didjeridus, start kicking around the hackey."

Addison lightly smiles for a second. "Not exactly. According to legends, it's used for dream walking. Like mentally going into someone else's dreams and looking around in their head."

"It take it we believe the legends."

"When do we," Sam scoffs. "But dream walking is just the tip of the iceberg."

"What do you mean?"

"If you take enough of the dream root and with practice, you practically become Freddy Krueger. I mean you can control the other person's dreams. Turn bad ones good...turn good ones bad."

"And killing people in their sleep?"

Addison nods. "That's just one example."

"So, let's say, uh, let's say this doc was testing this stuff on his patients, Tim Leary style," Sam begins.

"Somebody gets pissed at him, decides to give him a little dream visit, he goes nighty night," Dean continues.

"What about Bobby? I mean, if the killer came after him, how come he's still alive?"

"I don't know." Silence settles over them as they think about Bobby. "So, how do we find out homicidal sandman?"

"Could be anyone," Addison softly answers.

"Yeah?" She nods. "Anyone who knew the doctor and had access to his dream shrooms."

"Maybe one of his test subjects or something," Sam suggests.

"Possibly. But his research was pretty sketchy. I mean...I don't know how many subjects he had or who all of them were." Sam scoffs and Dean glances at him. "What?"

Sam sighs. "Any other case, we'd be calling Bobby and asking him for help right now."

Realization crosses Dean's face. "You know what? You're right."

"What?"

Sam shoots a confused look at Addison and she shrugs. "Sure, I think we might find the conversation a bit one sided."

"Not if we're tripping on some dream root."

"What," Addison disbelievingly asks.

"You heard me."

Addison crosses her arms. "So, you wanna go dream walking in Bobby's head?"

"Yeah. Why not? Maybe we could help."

"Dean, we have no idea what's crawling around in his head."

"How bad could it be?"

"Uh, bad."

"Ads, it's Bobby."

"Yeah, you're right," Sam reluctantly agrees. He scoffs. "One problem though. We're fresh out of African Dream Root, so unless you know someone who can score some it..."

"Fuck," Dean says.

"What?"

"Bela."

Sam scoffs. "Bela? You're actually suggesting we ask her a favor?"

"I'm feeling dirty just thinking about it, but yeah."

"Well, I'm not calling her," Addison says. "She's still on top of my 'People that I need to shoot' list."

Sam lets out a tried sigh. He closes his laptop and leans back in the chair. He runs a hand over his face. Sam looks up when a hand touches her shoulder. Addison stood in front of him, wearing her long peacoat. Her red hair fell in soft waves to her shoulders. "Are you okay," she softly asks.

"I'm fine," Sam replies. "Just stressed about this case."

Addison places her other hand on his shoulder and straddles his lap. "You need to relax, Sam." She leans in close. Sam grips her hips. "I can help you relax."

Addison reaches down and unbuttons her coat, letting it fall open. Sam's breath catches in his throat. She wore only a black lace bra and panties. "Addison—"

"I've been thinking about this for a long time, Sam," Addison whispers, her lips mere inches away from his. Sam wraps an arm around her waist and brings her lips to his. Addison snakes her arms around his neck and presses against him. He pulls back. Sam stands up and walks over to the bed. His lips trail down her neck and across the top of her breasts. She moans. "Sam. Sam. Sam."

"Sam! Wake up," Dean calls out. Sam smiles, then opens his eyes. He realizes that everything was just a dream. He sits up and wipes his face, only to find that he had wiped drool all over him. He wipes his face with his other hand as Dean amusedly watches. "Dude, you were out. Making some seriously happy noises. Who were you dreaming about?"

"What? No one. Nothing," Sam answers, shifting in his seat.

"Come on, you can tell me. Angelina Jolie?"

"No."

"Brad Pitt?"

Sam glances at his brother. "No. No. Dude, it doesn't matter."

Dean shrugs. "Whatever."

"Whatever," Sam mutters to himself. Then he notices whose missing. "Where's, uh, where's Ads?"

"She went to go something to eat. I swear, she eats more than I do. And this shouldn't come as a shocker, but Bella isn't gonna help. I've been trying to decipher the doctor's notes. Unfortunately, he has worse handwriting than you do." Dean looks at him and smirks. "You gonna come help me with this stuff?"

Sam glances at his lap, then looks over the books on the table. "Yeah, yeah. Just give me a sec."

The door opens and Sam looks up to Addison enter the room with Bela behind her. "Look who I found," she says, taking off her coat. He hides his disappointment seeing that Addison was wearing jeans and a long sleeve shirt.

"Bela," Dean coldly greets, standing up. "As I live and breathe."

"You called me. Remember," Bela counters, taking off her trench coat and tossing it on one of the beds.

"I remember you turning us down."

"Well, I'm just full of surprises." Addison places a paper bag on the table that Dean had been sitting at. "I brought you your African Dream Root," Bela continues, handing Dean a jar. "Nasty stuff and not easy to come by."

"So, why the sudden change of heart," Addison asks.

"What? I can't do you a little favor every now and again?"

Addison and Dean exchange a glance. "No, you can't," Dean replies. "Come on, I wanna know what the strings are before you attach them."

"You said this was for Bobby Singer, right," Bela asks. They nod. "Well, I'm doing it for him. Not you."

"Bobby? Why?"

"He saved my life once...in Flagstaff." Bela watches as they exchange disbelieving looks with Sam. "I screwed up and he saved me, okay? You satisfied?"

"Maybe."

Bela looks between the three hunters. "So when do we go on this little magical mystery tour?"

"Oh, you're not going anywhere," Dean tells her, grabbing the Colt and jar. "I don't trust you enough to let you in my car, much less Bobby's head. No offense."

"None taken." Addison frowns as Bela watches Dean put the Colt and jar in the safe before locking it. "It's two am. Where am I supposed to go?"

"Get a room. Ah, they got the Magic Fingers, a little Casa Erotica on pay per view. You'll love it."

Bela glares at them as she picks up her coat. "You..."

They watch Bela leave the room. Sam clears his throat and goes into the bathroom. "What's wrong with him," Addison asks, turning to Dean.

With a smirk on his face, Dean answers, "No idea."

Addison takes the small glass of tea from Sam as Dean sits down on the other bed with his own glass. Sam sits down next to her. The tea was made from part of dream root. "Uh, should we dim the lights and synch up Wizard of Oz to Dark Side of the Moon," Dean asks.

A confused look appears on Sam's face. "Why?"

Addison stares at him. "Sam, really?"

"What did you do during college," Dean questions his brother.

Sam shrugs. Dean starts to drink his tea. "Wait, wait, wait," Sam says, stopping him. He pulls a small envelope from his shirt pocket. "Can't forget this."

He sprinkles something in Addison's drink before doing the same to Dean's and his. "What is that," she asks.

"Bobby's hair."

"We have to drink Bobby's hair," Dean disbelievingly asks.

"That's how you control whose dream you're entering," Sam explains. "You gotta drink some of their uh...some of their body."

Addison wrinkles her nose. "Ew."

"Well, guess the hair of the dog is better than other parts of the body," Dean counters. He raises his cup and they do the same. "Bottoms up."

They each drink the tea. Addison coughs trying not to spit it up. She notices the looks on the guys' faces, seeing that they too didn't like the taste. She looks around the room, but nothing had changed. "Either of you feeling anything," Addison asks.

"No," Sam replies. "You feeling anything?"

Dean shakes his head. "No." He examines the inside of the cup. "Maybe we got some bad shwag."

Thunder echoes in the room. Sam looks at the window and frowns. "Hey, when did it start raining?"

Dean turns to see the rain. He gets up and opens the curtains. Addison stares in confusion. "When did it start raining upside down," Dean asks.

Addison and Sam stand up to join him at the window when the room suddenly changes. No longer were they in the motel room, but in a dark living room. The wall paper was a dark red with a floral design. They turn back to the window, but it's replaced with a fireplace. "Huh," Addison comments, looking around.

"Okay, I don't know what's weirder. The fact that we're in Bobby's head or that he's dreaming of Better Homes and Gardens," Dean states.

"Wait. Wait a sec," Sam says, gesturing around them. "Imagine the place without the paint job. More cluttered, dusty, books all over the place."

"This is Bobby's house," Addison asks.

"Yeah."

"Bobby," Dean calls out in a hushed tone.

Addison walks around the living room as Sam does the same. "Bobby," she quietly calls. She turns to see Sam looking out the window.

Sam shakes his head and moves near the stairs. "Bobby," he whispers. He looks back towards the front door. "Dean?" Dean turns from where he was nearing the entrance to the kitchen. "I'm gonna go look outside."

"No, no, no," Dean whispers. "Stay close."

"Dude, I'll be fine. Just...you guys look around in here."

"Sam," Addison softly begins.

"Look, we gotta find him."

Addison sighs. She glances at Dean and shrugs. "Don't do anything stupid," Dean tells his younger brother. Sam nods, then walks out of the house. Dean opens the doors to the kitchen and Addison follows him. The hallway was eerily silent, much like the rest of the house. "Bobby?"

Addison frowns as she notices a door with scratch marks on it. "Dean," she softly says, motioning to the door. She walks over to it. "Bobby?"

"Addison?" The two hunters exchange a relived look.

"Yeah. It's me and Dean," Addison quietly replies. "Can you open the door?"

The door opens and Bobby exits the closet. "How in the hell did you find me," he asks them, looking around. There were scratches on his face. And he was obviously scared of something.

"We got our hands on some of that dream root stuff," Dean explains.

"Dream root? What?"

"Dr. Gregg, the experiments?"

Bobby glances at them, confused. "What the hell are you talking about?" Suddenly, the lights flicker. "Hurry."

Bobby starts towards the closet, but Dean grabs his arm. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. What's going on?"

"She's coming."

"Bobby, you know that this is a dream, right," Addison asks.

"What are you, crazy?"

"It's a dream, Bobby," Dean tells him. "None of this is real!"

"Does that look made up," Bobby counters, pointing to something behind them.

Dean and Addison turn around to see a blonde woman wearing a white dress walking towards them. The closet door slams shut and Bobby desperately tries to open it. Blood was on the woman's dress and she had cuts on her neck. "Bobby, who is that," Dean asks.

Tears form in Bobby's eyes. "She's...she's my wife."

The woman nears them. "Why, Bobby," she asks. "Why did you do this to me?"

"I'd rather died myself than hurt you," Bobby tearful tells her.

"But you did hurt me. You shoved that knife into me. Again and again. You watched me bleed. Watched me die."

Dean grabs Bobby and forces the older hunter to look at him. "Bobby, she's not real."

"How could you," the woman continues.

"You were possessed, baby. You were rabid. And I didn't know what I know now. I didn't know how to save you," Bobby sadly explains.

"You're lying. You wanted me dead. If you'd loved me, you would've found a way!"

"I'm sorry."

Dean grabs Bobby's arm and leads him into the living room. Addison quickly follows and closes the doors behind her. The woman bangs on the doors. Dean grabs some rope and ties the door handles shut. Addison moves in front of Bobby. "Bobby, listen to us," she says. "None of this real. You're having a nightmare."

Bobby stares at the door. Tears stream down his face. "I killed her."

"Bobby," Dean shouts. "This is your dream. You can wake up. I mean, hell, you can do anything."

"Just leave me alone. Let her kill me already."

Dean grabs his shoulders. "Look at me. You gotta snap out of this now! You're not gonna die. I'm not gonna let you die. You're like a father to me. You gotta believe me, please."

Bobby looks from the door to Dean and back. "I'm dreaming," he disbelievingly says.

"Yes," Addison says. "You gotta take control of it."

Bobby looks at the doors and closes his eyes. The screaming and banging at the door stops. Dean walks over to the doors and opens them to reveal an empty kitchen. "I don't believe it," Bobby says, opening his eyes.

"Believe it," Dean replies. "Now would you please wake up?"

Addison shoots up in the bed, panting. She looks between the brothers, then falls back onto the bed. "No more dream walking."

"I hate wearing bras," Addison mutters as she and Sam ride the elevator up to the floor Bobby was on. Sam watches from the corner of his eye as she adjusts her bra. He quickly adverts his gaze. His dream from earlier comes to the forefront of his mind and he takes a deep breath. "I swear these things are medieval torture devices."

Sam laughs as they enter Bobby's room to find Bobby up and Dean sitting on the empty bed. "So, uh, stoner boy wasn't in his dorm. My guess is he's long gone by now," he tells them.

Bobby picks up a picture sitting on the table. "He ain't much of a stoner," he replies.

"What do you mean," Addison asks, sitting down next to Dean.

"His name's Jeremy Frost. Full on genius. Hundred and sixty IQ. Which is saying some thing, considering his dad took a baseball bat to his head." Bobby picks up another picture and hands it to Sam. "He died before Jeremy was ten."

"Looks like a real sweetheart," Sam says, setting the picture down.

"Injury gave him Charcot-Wilbrand. He hasn't dreamt since."

"Until he started taking the dream root," Addison states.

"Yep."

"How'd he know how to dig up your worst nightmare and throw it at you," Dean questions.

"He was rooting around in my skull. God knows what he saw in there."

"Yeah," Sam agrees. "How'd he get in there in the first place? Isn't he supposed to have some of your hair, your DNA or something?"

"Yeah. Before I knew it was him, he offered me a beer. I drank it. Dumbest frigging thing."

"Oh, I don't know," Dean nervously laughs. "It wasn't that dumb."

Addison looks at him for a second, then narrows her gaze. "Really, Dean."

Dean glares at her. "I was thirsty, Addison."

"That's great," Sam angrily begins. "Now he can come after either one of you."

"Well, now we just have to find him first."

"We better work fast and coffee up," Bobby says. "Because one thing we cannot do is fall asleep." Addison lets out a frustrated sigh and flops backwards onto the bed.

Addison tightly grips the handle of the back door in the Impala as it speeds over a hill. Two days had passed since they had started the search for Jeremy Frost and they were currently running on no sleep. But with the way Dean had been driving, one didn't need caffeine to help stay awake. Addison tries to stifle her yawn, but it's no use. "I mean, this Jeremy guy's not a fucking ghost," Dean complains. "Where the hell could he be?"

Sam worriedly glances at him. "Dean, are you sure you don't want me to drive? You seem a little...caffeinated."

"Thanks for the news flash, Edison," Dean snaps. His phone rings and after a couple of moments, he finally pulls it out of his pocket. "Tell me you got something."

"Strip club was a bust, huh," Bobby asks over the speaker.

"Yeah."

"That was our last lead."

"What the hell, Bobby!"

"Don't yell at me, boy. I'm working my ass off here."

"Sorry, I'm sorry. I'm just...I'm - I'm - I'm tired."

"We're all tired, Dean," Addison points out.

"What's Bela got," Dean asks, ignoring her.

After a moment, Bobby answers, "She's got nothing."

"Great! Well, I'm just gonna go blow my brains out now." Dean snaps his phone shut and tosses it at Addison before hitting the steering wheel. Addison rolls her eyes and tosses the phone back at him. Dean turns down a side road and stops the Impala in a clearing of woods. "Alright, that's it. I'm done."

Sam shoots Addison a confused look and she shrugs. "What are you doing," he asks.

Dean slides down in the seat and lays his head against the window. "Taking myself a long over due nap."

"You know that Jeremy is going to come right after you," Addison points out.

"That's the idea."

"What," Sam disbelievingly asks.

"Come on, man, we can't find him, so let him come to me."

"On his own turf? Where he's basically a god?"

"I can handle it."

"Not alone, you can't."

Sam rips out some of Dean's hair. "Ow!" Dean touches the top of his head. "What are you doing?"

"Coming in with you."

"No, you're not."

"Why not," Sam counters, picking up a thermos. He dumps the hair in and shakes it. "At least then it'll be three against one."

Dean stares at him for a second. "Cause I don't want you two digging around in my head."

"Too bad," Sam replies, then drinks some of the tea. He hands the thermos to Addison and she drinks some of it before handing the thermos back to Sam. She sighs as she lays down in the backseat and closes her eyes.

Addison opens her eyes and finds herself still in the backseat of the Impala. She sits up as Sam wakes up. She shakes Dean's shoulder. "Dean. Dean!"

Dean shoots up. "Jeez. For the love of God," he mutters, then looks around. "What are we still doing here?"

"I have no idea," Sam answers. A noise comes from outside. "There's someone out there."

The three of them climb out of the Impala. Addison looks around the woods, then music plays. She glances at Sam and he shrugs. They walk towards Dean to see him staring at a dark haired woman sitting on a blanket. "Isn't that Lisa," Addison quietly asks Sam. "From when we dealt with the changelings?"

"Yeah," Sam whispers.

Dean glances at them. "I've never had this dream before." Addison rolls her eyes, clearly not believing him. "Stop looking at me like that."

Sam awkwardly looks away. "Sorry."

"Dean," Lisa says. "I love you."

The scene in front of them shakes and disappears. They look around, confused. "Where'd she go," Dean asks.

Addison stares at the dark haired, bearded man that appeared from behind a tree. "Guys." Jeremy runs off and the three of them quickly take off after him. Sam suddenly stops in a clearing and Addison looks around in confusion. "Where's Dean," she pants.

A loud bang causes Addison to shoot up. She frowns, seeing that her, Sam, and Dean were back in the Impala. "Dean," Sam says, hitting his arm. "Hey. Wake up."

Instead of Dean waking up, it's Jeremy. He jams the end of a baseball bat in Sam's stomach. Addison ducks done as he swings the bat towards her. She opens the door and crawls out of the Impala as Sam does the same. She crawls over to Sam and places a hand on his back. "Boy, you just don't know when to leave well enough alone, do you," Jeremy says, walking over to them.

"You're a psycho," Addison tells him.

Jeremy glares at her. "You're wrong."

"Yeah," Sam asks, sitting up. He places a protective hand on Addison's thigh. "Tell that to Dr. Gregg."

"The doc? No, no. The doc's the one that got me hooked on this stuff and then he took it away. But I needed it and he wouldn't let me have it."

"So, you decided to kill him," Addison questions.

"I can dream again. You know what that's like, not being able to dream? You never rest, not really. It's like being awake for fifteen years."

"And let me guess," Sam begins. "That makes you go crazy?"

Jeremy leans down towards them. "I just wanna be left alone. I just wanna dream."

"Sorry. Can't do that."

"That's the wrong answer." Suddenly, Addison and Sam are separated. She pulls at the ropes around her wrists, but nothing happens. She looks over to see Sam in the same position as her; stretched out with ropes around wrists and ankles that where tied to railroad spikes. "I'm getting better and better at this. Stronger and stronger all the time. But you two and your brother? You're not waking up. Not this time. I'm not gonna let you."

Jeremy brutally hits Sam's legs with the bat. "Sam," Addison shouts. She pulls harder at the ropes, then it clicks her mind.

Jeremy raises the bat over Sam's chest. "You can't stop me. There's nothing I can't do in here."

"Because of the Dream Root," Sam pants.

"That's right."

"Yeah? Well, you're forgetting something."

"What's that?"

"We took the Dream Root too," Addison states, smirking at him.

"Jeremy," a man shouts. They look to see Henry, Jeremy's father, standing by the tree line. "Jeremy!"

"No. No," Jeremy says, panicked. Henry stalks toward his son. "Dad?"

"You answer me when I'm talking to you, boy," Henry coldly says.

Jeremy backs up. "No."

The ropes around Addison's wrists and ankles loosen. She stands up as a baseball bat appears in her hand. She walks up behind Jeremy. "Hey," she says. Jeremy turns around and Addison swings the bat at his head. Jeremy falls down. She slams the bat at the back of his neck.

Gasping, Addison opens her eyes to find herself back in the Impala. She sits up and sees the boys in the front seat. The three of them exchange a look, then look away. Addison lays back down in the seat. Her hand goes to the gold cross around her neck and she closes her eyes.

Addison sighs as she wipes the toothpaste off her mouth. She and Sam hadn't had a chance to talk since they woke up. She walks out of the bathroom as Sam and Bobby enter the motel room. She shoots Sam a smile and he smiles back. Relief fills her, knowing that he didn't think any differently about her. "Hey, you guys seen Bela," Dean asks, snapping his phone shut. "She's not in her room. She's not answering her phone."

"She probably took off," Addison tells him.

"Just like that? It's a little weird."

"Yeah, well, if you ask me what's weird is why she helped us in the first place," Bobby says.

"I thought you saved her life."

A confused look crosses Bobby's face. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"The thing in Flagstaff."

"That thing in Flagstaff was an amulet. I gave her a good deal, that's all."

Addison frowns as the boys look confused. "Well, then why did—"

"You three better check your pockets," Bobby interrupts.

Addison shakes her head as the boys check their jean pockets. "Not your actual pockets," she says, walking over to the safe.

"No, no, no, no," Dean says, joining her. Addison opens the safe and finds it empty.

"The Colt," Sam disbelievingly says. "Bela stole the Colt."

"Damn it," Bobby angrily exclaims.

Dean slams the safe door shut. "Pack your shit."

"Why," Addison asks. "She's probably five states away, Dean."

Dean glares at her. "Don't care, Addison. We're gonna go hunt the bitch down."

Addison watches as Dean and Sam climb into the Impala. Silence settles between them. "Guys," Dean says after a moment.

"Yeah," Sam replies, looking at his older brother.

Dean clears his throat. "I've been doing some thinking. And...well, the thing is...I don't wanna die." Addison leans forward and hugs him. "I don't wanna go to hell."

"Then we'll find a way to save you," Addison softly says.

"Yeah," Sam agrees. "We'll find a way to save you."

Dean looks between them, then he nods. A small smile was on his face. "Okay, good."