Thank you so much to everyone who left any sort of response to this story. I appreciate every read, review, alert, and favorite. I had fun writing this one, I hope you all like it too.

Fruit

The smell of dirt, fresh flowers, and parsley made Dean sick. The stench was what he thought Woodstock would reek like and he cut off his sense of smell just to ignore it. He pushed his way through the loitering flower people shopping in the Farmer's Market. Each aisle was congested with patrons carrying pansy wicker baskets adorned in daisies. Had he known he was walking into hippy territory he would've called off all bets. His brother was nowhere to be found amongst the crowd.

Dean's muscles tensed as he hung his head low in frustration. The vibrant shades of the yellow, green, and orange produce became one, blurring together while Dean kept pacing in the store. Adrenaline rushed through him as time continued to tick away. He could feel every second slip by like a ghost, making the hair on his arms raise to attention. There wasn't a nanosecond he could spare and he wouldn't allow his frustrations to get the better of him. He wouldn't stop his search of Sam even if the task was becoming more hopeless. This was his fourth go-round in the store. He was losing patience and as a result became desperate - left with no other option.

"HEY! LISTEN UP!" Dean hollered. He pushed his voice above the soft female vocalist who yodeled to indie music playing out of camouflaged speakers. Some patrons ignored his sudden outburst, continuing to fill their baskets with organic kale or whatever yuppies liked to eat. Many onlookers however, stopped to offer him their attention. "Has anyone seen Sam Winchester?"

The crowd kept silent and even a few aggravated customers resumed shopping. It took Dean a second to understand why they appeared confused, but the problem resolved itself once an elderly man limped forward asking in a frail kind voice, "who?"

Quickly he whipped out his phone and found the first picture of his brother that he could.

"This man," Dean said. "Tall, dorky, really bad haircut. He drives the impala outside. Ringing any bells?"

Nothing but silence remained. He felt like a depressed father showing others a milk carton with his missing son's picture on it. Like everything was a lost cause.

"Come on!" He pushed his phone closer in their faces and practically down their throats. "You were all busy buying bean sprouts and lemongrass tea or whatever the hell you guys call food, but you can't tell me that any of you noticed this grown man. He's taller than the ceiling lights!"

The faces of those Dean was speaking with appeared either dumbfounded, uninterested, or sympathetic that they couldn't help assist him. All but one. There was one woman who stood out from the crowd. One pointy needle in a haystack of crumbling leaves. He'd found Waldo.

She placed herself towards the back end of the group and perhaps Dean wouldn't have noticed her had it not been for the electric blue American Eagle hoodie she wore. It was the only pop of color in the monotonous crowd that caught his eye. Her head was covered with its hood, black hair spilling from either side of her face. Dean guessed she was trying to keep a low profile, but her eyes were wide with shock like a child who got caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

She sucked in a breath when they locked gazes. The moment faded quickly like smoke on the water. She lowered her head sheepishly, recoiling away from the masses of people as though she would go undetected and Dean would forget all about her. With every step she took backwards, Dean took twice as many forward. He felt like a cat cornering a helpless mouse until suddenly, she took off running.

He had to admit it threw him off to see her speed away, but it didn't take long for him to chase after her. They were both ducking and dodging the shoppers, she a little more gracefully than Dean, but he blamed that on size difference. He was a man, built and sturdy like a pillar. She was lean and lithe, tiptoeing like a ballerina.

Looking over her shoulder, once she noticed Dean at her heels she threw her basket of food at him. A pineapple hit him hard in the chest and he groaned from the sudden impact. That didn't deter him. His mind was focused solely on catching her as he trampled over the apples and other fruits he couldn't identify beneath his feet. She made a hard right, pushing through the exit door and ran down the barren parking lot. Dean called after her and heard no response. He hated to admit it, but she was faster than him.

Refusing to quit, he ran as hard as he could after her even if the burn in his chest advised him otherwise. Mud splattered against his boots and the muggy air made it hard to take proper breaths. He persisted. He hated to lose and this was becoming less and less about finding Sam and more about catching her just to win their chase.

The all too familiar sound of a car engine forced Dean to stagger to a stop. The low purr of his Impala caught his ear and he frowned. Had he missed Sam? The reason why he came to the market was because he tracked his car down and found it parked outside. Unless he had stealth on his side, Sam wasn't to be found.

When the Impala pulled out its parking spot and Dean caught sight of the driver everything fell into place. The girl in the blue hoodie was behind the wheel of his car. Dean thought that there wasn't much that could surprise him anymore, but the sight of a women driving his baby was new to him. He felt as empty as a hollow point bullet, or like the casings that fell from a fired shotgun - like he was a shell of himself.

That was before disgust took over.

"You!" he snarled. "Get out of my car. Right now."

He blocked her exit and stood before the front of his car. His steely glare matched hers and this time she didn't cower away. She seemed willing and able to do whatever she wanted. A helluva lot more confident than when she was picking out veggies.

"Shut up and move out of my way, Dean," she shouted back. He didn't remember telling her his name. "Leave me alone and find yourself some business."

He was about to take a step forward, but sound of the Impala's engine revving stopped him before his foot could hit the ground. Her eyes were low and filled with danger. There was a pleased smirk at the corner of her lips, he could see it even through the tinted windshield. It didn't take much for Dean to figure out she was threatening him.

"What you're gonna run me over?" he mocked. "You wouldn't dare."

The screech of tires against dirt hit his ear and his car shot off like a bat out of hell. It flew towards him, ready to flatten him like a motel mattress. His reaction time was his saving grace and he jumped to the side, missing being pummeled within an inch of his life. He watched as his car fled the scene, becoming nothing more than a tiny ant in the distance.

"This isn't over." He grabbed his own keys and ran to his car. He jumped in, started the ignition, and followed after wherever she was headed. Because wherever she was, he was willing to bet Sam wasn't too far behind.