A.N. I really wanted to jump back into the swing of things, but im not gonna :P

Dean opened his eyes. He was in bed again, the covers pulled up over his waist. His head felt clear, all signs of buzzing or ringing gone. Actually, he felt pretty good. He sat up and stretched, looking around. Nothing looked disturbed.

A dream?

"Jesus," Dean shook his head. Dean really wasn't much on dreams, unless they'd involved hot chicks or apple pie… or maybe hot chicks with apple pie… but this bullshit? He remembered the voice speaking to him through the explosions in his head… He couldn't pin down anything definite about the voice, not even if it were male or female… just the words 'hello Dean' bouncing around in his head.

He shook his head again. Not interested. He didn't want to know. He climbed out of his bed and grabbed his swim trunks. Changing quickly, he stuffed his feet into some beat up shoes and headed for the Big Wave to retrieve his board.

Big Mike himself was behind the counter for once. He smiled broadly at Dean, the phone tucked between his ear and shoulder as he placed an order with their main supplier. Dean couldn't help but like the guy, his face red and full of lines from years of sun exposure, his hair too long and a strange mix of sunbleached blonde and grey, and he was wearing a severely faded Big Wave tee shirt which may or may not have been red at one point.

Dean grabbed his board and headed straight for the water. He needed something like the roar of water pounding over his head to make him feel easy again.

Hours later Dean knew it was time to head back in. As he rode his last wave in to shore, he'd almost forgotten the weird headache from yesterday… almost.

Sandy was at the counter helping a customer as he entered. She shot him a look of concern, but he ignored it. The last thing he wanted right now was girly concern. He headed straight towards the back to stash his board and begin the repair work that was waiting for him.

Halfway through putting a new tether on a long board, a shadow fell across his hands. He looked up to see Sandy, hands on hips, peering down at him. He stared at her awkwardly for a few moments, before he realized she was waiting for him to say something.

"Hi?" He raised an eyebrow, hoping that if he acted like nothing had happened, so would she.

"Hi? That's it? Hi?" She demanded.

"How are you?" He asked slowly. He knew as soon as he said it that it would only infuriate her further, but he couldn't help it. HE was a cocky bastard at heart.

"What happened yesterday?" She glared at him. He sighed. Leave it to a chick to make a big deal out of nothing and ruin his peace.

"Migraine, I guess." He shrugged. It sounded lame, hell, it FELT lame to say, but it seemed plausible.

She stared at him a moment more, trying to decide if this answer pleased her, or maybe thinking of another attack. In the end, she just frowned and kept on looking at him.

"Maybe I was in the sun too much yesterday," He supplied. Totally logical. Hell, one time he'd seen Sammy barf from just being in direct sunlight too long. Sammy… That was a mistake to think about… He offered Sandy a charming smile and began to work on the tether again.

Sandy stood a few more moments in silence.

"I guess that makes sense…" She finally replied. "You should be more careful, you could have gotten sun poisoning or heat stroke." She gave him a cute little pout and patted his shoulder. Dean Winchester would have taken that opportunity to let her play 'doctor' with him, but Rob Paige just nodded and sort of half-smiled.

"I will, thanks."

She retreated back to the front of the store and all was peaceful for a long while. Dean finished several boards without much issue. He tuned out the noises of the shop, and focused on waxing a board, trying not to imagine waxing a shining black hood or carefully wiping a windshield, or lovingly polishing a chrome fender, or-

"Why? Is he in some kind of trouble?" Sandy's voice jerked him out of his reverie. She sounded upset.

"No. I just need to find him." A deep voice responded. Dean's blood froze.

"Hold on a minute…" Sandy muttered. He heard her footsteps approaching and began wishing there was an exit in the back room.

"Rob…" She appeared, closing the door behind her. She was holding a piece of paper in her hand, staring down at it. "Rob… what is this?" She held it out to him and all his worst fears came screaming back into his head.