A/N

First of all, I love blondes. Some of my best friends are blonde. I have nothing against them, just going with the whole stereotypical blonde joke thing. Chapter six will be up soon, and I don't know if I will continue this story. I like writing it, but I don't think anyone likes it. If you do, let me know and I'll keep writing it. Otherwise I'll just cut it short…

Chapter Five

The phone broke the silence first. Neither Dean nor Nina felt like answering it, so Chelsea got up for it.

"Hello?" Chelsea asked. Silence fell on the room once again as Chelsea listened intently to the line. "Oh god, that's horrible. Yeah sure, I'll tell her. Thanks for calling, bye." She turned her gaze towards Nina.

"That was Adam, Jay just died…" this caused both Nina and Dean to look up.

"How many friends did you say went home?" Dean asked glancing over at Chelsea to make sure he wasn't saying anything that would weird her out.

"Well, other than Jay and that other girl, three." Nina replied.

"And they all went home?"

"Yeah, which means Sam will be fine. He's probably at home already."

"That's not possible."

"Why not?"

"Because we don't have a home."

"What?" Chelsea asked, making herself known to the conversation again.

"We just never stayed anywhere long enough. We went from town to town, living basically on the road. I mean Sam settled down at Stanford for four years for school and all, but I don't think he's ever going to want to back there. He would never call that home, not after… well anyways. We don't have a home. Sam doesn't have a home."

"Yes he does," Nina stated. She stated it like a fact, one of those facts the whole world knew. It was almost like she had just stated the sky was blue.

"No he doesn't," these girls were really starting to get on Dean's nerves. They should both be blonde was the next thought that filled his mind. Right after, he knows Sam better than anyone and where was he, of course.

"Yes he does," Nina stated again, raising her voice this time.

"Look, I get it. Everyone has a home, a place they belong. Now get over your fantasy perfect normal world, it's not true."

"I never said everyone has a home, I said Sam has a home."

"And where would that be, if you know him so well?"

"Sam said," Nina was gritting her teeth now. "Sam said that home wasn't a place for him. We were talking outside, before, well before he was gone. He said that home was on the road. Wait no actually; he said home was in the impala with you. He said he felt right, he felt fine. Made it seem like home was more of a feeling to him."

Silence swept over the room once again, it seemed to be a trend at the moment. Both Nina and Dean sat thinking. If home was a feeling to Sam, and it was with Dean and the impala, then why wasn't he back here yet?

"Hey you guys," Chelsea broke the silence, once again making her presence noticed. Both faces turned towards her, one was silent and thinking, while the other was boring into her like a flame with worry written all over it. She said the first brilliant and useful comment since she had gotten there. "If Sam feels at home with Dean and the impala, he's not coming home. Dean's here, and the impala, well it's not here."

Sam woke up to find ballroom music playing; it was the kind of music they played at those fancy parties back in the old days. He couldn't tell where the noise came from, but it really wasn't helping his throbbing headache at the time. Suddenly the music stopped, and was replaced by a voice. The voice sounded like someone talking on the radio, once again one of those old radios back in the day.

"Home's a nice place. When you get where you're going and you're nearing your end, go home. Everyone leaves home at some point, but who's never gone back? If you haven't, while you're lying on your deathbed, you just want to go home."

"What the fuck…" Sam whispered as the sound went back to ballroom music. This was making no sense, he had no idea where he was, oh and better yet, he couldn't see. Once again the voice started up, this time directly talking to Sam as if he had called in or something.

"Boy, don't you ever go home? It's not nice to leave home. Think about what you left behind, those poor souls. And you should be punished. Poor–"

"Home, what the fuck are you talking about? Better yet, who are you? No wait, where am I?"

"Poor girl, trying to trust you, but that's the thing- you can't trust anyone in this world," the voice continued talking to Sam, but ignoring his concerns.

"What girl? I don't know what you're talking about. Dean? Dean?" Sam was getting irritated now, and thoughts of Dean filled his head. Where was Dean? Was he missing, or was Dean? Probably him, since neither Nina nor Chelsea was with him. Okay so if he was missing, oh no, Dean was probably looking for him. But that wouldn't help, he was in, well, looking around for the first time, Sam noticed he wasn't in a room. No, he was outside. But he wasn't outside. It was completely white, nothing around him but white. He felt like he was in that book Flatland he had read once when he was sixteen. He had been pretending to do research, but instead he was reading a book for school. He couldn't make out any shapes, and he had felt for walls, no walls. But what was he standing on?

"Boy, you can't have more than one home. You need to say goodbye, and it's time for you to go home." And that's it. The voice was gone; it was back to the ballroom dancing music. Sam frustrated with the situation began to panic. He was looking for a way out, or in, he wasn't really sure. He was looking for anything. He reached in his pocket for his cell phone, but found it wasn't there.

Standing in the same spot, afraid to move in case he well fell, Sam began to slow his panics and think. It was during his solo thinking time, blocking out the ballroom dancing music, that Sam remembered it. Nina. Nina had said that her friends were taken, and then appeared at home. He must've been taken by the demon, or whatever it was. So, that's what all that talk about home was. Now he got it, each person had come here, heard the awful ballroom dancing music, heard the voice, and wanted to go home. It was their chance to go home before they died.

Where was home? It wasn't hard for Sam to answer. Home was a place he felt safe, a place he wanted to be. It was a place where his family would be, a place he would run to. Home was Dean, the impala, and the road. But why wasn't he going home then? That's when he remembered the rest. He, unlike everyone else whose home had been an actual building, could not go home.

But that's just it. Sam couldn't go anywhere until Dean was back in the impala. He was stuck, in nowhere.