Missing

It took a while for us to realize that Dean was gone. It had been years since he'd outright lied to me, so when he was nowhere to be found inside the house I assumed that he was out in the garage working on the Impala. An oil change didn't take that long, but God knew that either one of us could find countless other ways to tinker with that car if we had the time and a cooler of beer. We weren't on a hunt, so I was patient at first.

"Dad, why are Dean's clothes gone?"

I looked up from my journal, coffee cup frozen half way between the table an my mouth, and saw wide green eyes staring at me from behind a mop of brown hair. Damn kid needed a cut, but I refused to point that out because I knew it wouldn't do any good. He was out of breath from running down the stairs. "What?"

"His bag and all his things are gone!"

And that's when I realized that Dean had snowed me. He wouldn't take his clothes with him if he was just in the garage with the goddamned car. Without answering Sam, who looked about an inch away from complete panic, I went straight outside and found the garage empty. I couldn't quite come to grips with the fact that Dean had lied to me. I'd expect it from Sam under certain circumstances, but not Dean. We told each other the truth, dammit. I nearly ran back to the house, because if he wasn't here, there was only one other place that he would go. And that thought, the idea that he would go back to that town after those bastards who raped him, scared the hell out of me.

"Sam, be in the truck and ready to go in five minutes," I barked before I even got completely through the door. I was grateful that for once the kid didn't argue. He just nodded and took off to get his things from their room. I kept going and walked into Bobby's office without knocking. "How long, Bobby?"

The expression on his face as he looked up from the books he was buried in would have been funny if I was even remotely in the mood to laugh. "What the hell, John?"

I wasn't buying his innocent act. Very few things happened under Bobby's roof that he didn't know about. "How long's my boy been gone?"

"He left last night about an hour after you went to bed."

Fuck. That was damn near ten hours ago. I rubbed my face with my hands. "Why the hell did you let him leave?"

"You ever try to stop Dean from doin' somethin' he was set to do?"

I huffed out a breath. He had a point there. Dean on a mission was a damn force of nature. "You could have told me."

"I could have. And you're probably the only person on earth coulda stopped him. But if it was that important to him that he'd sneak off in the dead o' night knowin' that you'd react like this, then it felt wrong for me to disrespect him like that. Maybe I was wrong. I pray I wasn't, but that was my decision."

I huffed out a breath as I heard Sam on the stairs. If I had more time, I'd probably wring Bobby's neck. "Well, you were wrong. If anything happens to him, I swear to god Bobby you sure as hell don't want to see me again."

He nodded his head. "If anything happens to him 'cause of me, then I guess I'll have earned it."

I gave him a sharp nod. "I guess so."

I ignored Sam's curious gaze as I walked past him to retrieve my own bag. I didn't turn to check to see if he was behind me as I left the house, but I could hear him scrambling to keep up. Every muscle in my body was so tense that I was aching before we got ten miles away from Bobby's.

"How much of a head start do you think he's got on us?"

I snorted. "At least ten hours. With the Impala make that twelve. Serves me right for givin' it to him. I wanted to make sure that he could outrun just about anything he needed to. Just never counted on that includin' the truck."

"But he can handle himself, right? I mean, if anyone could pull this off its Dean."

I was relieved to know for sure that Sam had come to the same conclusions that I had, that he knew his brother well enough to know that there was only one reason that he'd leave like this. "Ever kill a man, son?"

"No sir."

"It ain't like killin' somethin' that's not human, but sometimes you gotta do it to save yourself or someone else. What your brother's gone to do, though." I paused and shook my head. "I don't blame him one damn bit, but it's still murder and it will change him. Then there's the fact that the kid's not thinking straight."

"He's gonna be alright, isn't he Dad?"

I glanced at Sam. He looked scared to death. He was right, though. If anyone could pull this off alone, it was Dean. But I couldn't shake the fear that he'd choke at the wrong time and put himself in danger. Then there was the question of what he'd become if he succeeded. Acid was churning in my gut. "I hope so, son. I hope so."

"Bathroom break, Sammy?"

The boy jerked his head around as if I'd just pulled him out of some deep train of thought. He'd been fidgeting in the seat and I smirked at the memories it brought up. I half expected him to say he'd wait until we got into town, but instead he nodded.

"Yes sir."

I wanted to ask him why he was being so respectful all of a sudden, but I really didn't want to look a gift horse in the mouth. I assumed that it was just his worry over his brother. Maybe he just didn't have the energy to be a pain in the ass right now. "Okay. I might as well fuel up now since we're stoppin'. Ten minutes."

I waited in the car for five extra minutes before I started to worry. Sam wouldn't dawdle with Dean's life on the line. I went to the restroom to find it empty. Ten minutes of methodically checking the area with no luck finally had me in a near panic. There were no signs of violence, no drag marks. Not a damn clue what the hell had happened to my baby boy. It took me a full minute to get my brain working well enough to call Bobby.

"Is Dean alright?"

I closed my eyes and forced myself to calm down. "I don't know. We're a couple hours outside of the town. But Sam…."

"What about him?"

"He's gone, Bobby."

"What do ya mean 'gone?'"

"I mean the boy's fucking missing!" I paused, closed my eyes again and took a deep breath. Panic was pulling at me, sharp and insistent. I had just lost both my sons in less than forty eight hours and had no fucking clue how the hell I was going to save them both, or if I could even save one. "What the fuck am I supposed to do, Bobby? I can't just leave before I figure out what happened to Sammy, and I can't just stay here while Dean's in danger. Fuck!"

"I know Ellen's the last person you want to ask for help, but you're not far from the Roadhouse. Maybe she can find someone to take over the search for Sam while you go after Dean. I'll be there in a day and a half, and you and Dean can join us when you find him."

I forced myself to breath, to think it through. I couldn't deal with all the gilt that the mention of Ellen brought up right now, so I ignored it. It wasn't a perfect solution. But then how could there be? "Okay, fine. Just make sure they're good and that they haul ass. I can't afford to sit around waiting."

I spent the worst two hours of my life waiting for Gordon Walker to show up. Normally I would have said hell no to help from the man, but I didn't have the luxury of being picky. He was a good hunter. Just far too overzealous and too damn quick by half. Half an hour after meeting the man for the first time, I'd known that if any hunter could figure out about Sammy, he could. And even if he just suspected, he'd probably try to kill the kid anyway. Just in case. Hell, the man'd killed his own sister without so much as a pang of conscience. Granted, she'd been turned into a vampire. But who the hell didn't feel at least a little conflicted about putting down family? No, Walker definitely wasn't someone I wanted anywhere near my youngest.

But there was no sign of Sam in the entire time that he'd been gone. Much as I hated to admit it, I doubted Gordon would manage much beyond picking up a trail before Bobby showed up. Even that was optimistic. My son had been taken, and whatever had done it was good. I called Bobby one last time before leaving Gordon with the task of picking up the search for Sam to ask him to look for portents when he caught up with Gordon. I couldn't ignore the possibility that it was Azazel or his accomplice.

I hate text messaging, but I knew that there was a better chance of Dean glancing at his screen and seeing enough of one to realize that something was wrong then there was that he'd actually listen to his voicemail. We had a very specific emergency code system. 211 meant I was in trouble, 311 was Dean, 411 was Sammy. I sent the 411 code hoping that Dean would drop whatever he was doing when he found out something was going on with his baby brother. Nearly two hours later he called.

"Dad, please tell me you're not just usin' Sam to get me to call you back."

"He's missing Dean."

There was a short pause. "Missing?"

"We were on our way to you when he just disappeared. I couldn't find a trace of him."

"Where are you? I'll meet you there."

"I'm just entering the city limits."

"You left? With Sam in trouble?"

"Bobby and another hunter are trying to catch his trail, and I was every bit as worried about your stubborn ass at the time." I knew that I was snapping at him, but I really couldn't help it. How could he think that I would just forget about him? I always alternated between being amused and annoyed that both boys thought the other was my favorite. Neither one was more special to me… just special in different ways.

He paused again and I wished I could see him, could read his body language. "I'm fine. I just have one last loose end to take care of and I'll meet you at the Clover Inn in half an hour. Room two twelve."

Loose ends. I closed my eyes briefly as a chill ran up my spine. Even though it scared the hell out of me to think that my son had killed at least five men, I couldn't help feeling a perverse sense of pride that he could do it so quickly and while suffering PTSD. How the hell had he pulled it off? "Are you… are you okay?"

He hesitated for a second. "I'm fine Dad," he finally said, his voice sounding thin and strained. My boy wasn't alright. But he was alive. Everything else could be dealt with.

"Be careful, son."

"Always."

Twenty minutes later, I was picking the lock of my son's room. There was really nothing there to indicate that it had been occupied, except the unmade bed. There was a no maid service sign on the doorknob that explained that. So the boy had at least gotten a little bit of rest at some point. Probably one of his thirty minute naps, and I have absolutely no idea how the boy could be so sharp with so little sleep. More encouraging, there was no sign of blood or injury.

I'd been waiting less than ten minutes when Dean arrived. He was holding a small bag and smelled of gasoline. I noticed that there was blood on his clothes and my mouth went dry. I suddenly found myself at a loss as to what to say to my own son. It wasn't really the first time. I didn't always handle the stress of our lives well – of the lives they'd been forced into because of me – and I sometimes said stupid things.

"Are you –"

"'S not mine," he mumbled. I couldn't help noticing how fidgety he was and how he didn't quite meet my eyes.

"Did you get them all?"

He gave a tight nod. "Yessir."

"Okay. I didn't hear the Impala."

"It's in an abandoned barn outside of town. I… borrowed a car once I got here. Left it a few miles down the road."

"Good. I'll take you to it. We need to haul ass and find your brother. But change first. If we get pulled over…"

He nodded again. "Yeah."

Just as he was passing me to get to the bathroom, I grabbed his bicep, stopping him, my fingers digging in probably to deep but I couldn't make myself loosen my grip. I waited until he looked me in the eye. The pained expression in those green eyes made my heart ache. I wondered how long what he'd done here would haunt him, prayed it wouldn't destroy him. The boy had been through so much already, things that would have completely shattered a lesser man. "Don't ever pull a half assed stunt like this again. You scared the hell out of me."

"I know. 'M sorry, Dad."

"No, I'm sorry. It's my job to protect you. Both of you and I've done a pretty shitty job of it."

"None of this is your fault, Dad. Not me, not Sam. Mom should have told you the truth, and what happened to me… you couldn't have stopped it. You got handed a fucked up situation and you never gave up on either of us."

It was my turn to nod as I released his arm. I wish I could be as easy on myself as Dean was. Maybe I didn't give up, but that didn't mean I had actually done any good. "We've got two more hours of driving ahead of us."

A/N: Yes, I know I'm mean. I promise I'll tell you what Dean did in the next chapter. As for what happened to Sammy… well I'll give you a hint, so ignore the next sentence if you don't want to know. What happened to Sam is actually cannon from season two, but everything's been thrown out of whack because of Dean's rape and the reunion of the Winchesters.

Yeah, deangirl, nuts pretty much sums up John and Sam's reactions.

Poor Dean indeed, DeanBean. I hope you like this update.

I hope this chapter lived up to your expectations requitv. By the way, ansiosamente is 'anxiously' in English ;-)

I thought the goat thing was funny too when I ran across it in my research, NongPradu. I just had to include it.

Dean's always been too stubborn for his own good, redgriffin7.

I don't know if he'll tell Bobby, yammy. Everyone who knows so far found out on their own. I'm not sure I see it coming up in regular conversation. But you never know.

Here you go greendaypumpkin, although you'll have to wait to see what shape Dean's vengeance took.

Too true, moira4eku. I can't see how what Dean did wouldn't affect him. He may not think so, but I think he probably has the best moral compass of all the Winchesters. Which in turn means the strongest conscience. Welcome!

Thank you so much Hell's Aphrodite. I like to think that the characters are driving the story… trying to keep all the reactions and interactions as true to who they are as possible. I'm so glad to hear that you're still enjoying the story, although that might be the wrong word to use.

It made me nervous too, stndabvthcrwd1! LOL.

-Angie