Authors Note:
1) No Beta, all my mistakes are mine.
Dean wakes with a start, propelling himself to sit up. It takes him a moment to orient himself, and when he does he's more confused than before. He knows he shouldn't be there. He isn't entirely sure how or why he knows, but he knows. He's sitting in the backseat of the Impala, parked outside of the bunker. Baby's where she should be, and waking up in the back of the Impala shouldn't feel as wrong as it does, but it does. There's more a sense of nostalgia or déjà vu, where everything's there, just not quite.
Dean looks around, trying to place a finger on something to bolster him. Yes, everything is there. He is in the Impala, outside the bunker. Maybe I got drunk and couldn't make it inside. But he's not hung over, he's not even groggy – he's awake and alert in a way he hasn't been in ages.
It's sunny outside, he notices now. Daytime. Even that seems off. Shouldn't it be night. I could have sworn it was night. Dean lifts his hand to the sunlight streaming in through the window. It's unsettling, but he can't place why. He's seeing something, but doesn't know what. He just can't seem to grasp it. Whatever it is, it's making him feel so bizarre. Surreal. He recognizes this as the root of his confusion. Everything is surreal, dreamlike. Dean needs to shiver at the realization, but his body won't respond to that need.
I should go inside. I need to talk to Sam. He reaches for the door handle, and slips out of the car. Again, he has that strange sensation of wrongness, staring at the Impala he knows, knows, he's missing something, and still, he just cannot grasp it. Sam. He turns away from his car and walks toward the bunker. He instantly feels anxious. There's the need to see Sam, but even more than the need to see Sam, there is a force of need that compels him to stay with Baby. His stomach is knotting up, and he can feel a twinge of panic set inside him. It's the first real feeling outside of some variant of confusion that Dean's had since waking up. Feeling. He's not feeling anything. He didn't feel the seats underneath him, or the warmth from the sunlight on his hand. He can't tell if it's hot or cold. He can't feel the wind, even though he sees the trees waving. He didn't feel the handle of the car door. He doesn't even remember getting out of the car.
I need Sam. Fear, panic, and the basic need, that only Dean Winchester can have to get to Sam, overrides whatever need to stay with Baby that he's feeling. He runs toward the bunker, only to be sucker punched by some unseen force. He feels distant and disjointed for just a moment. Long enough to think; now this is familiar, before there's nothing…
Dean wakes with a start, propelling himself to sit up. It takes him a moment to orient himself, and when he does he's more confused than before. He knows he shouldn't be there. He isn't entirely sure how or why he knows, but he knows. He's sitting in the backseat of the Impala, parked outside of the bunker. Baby's where she should be, and waking up in the back of the Impala shouldn't feel as wrong as it does, but it does. There's more a sense of nostalgia or déjà vu, where everything's there, just not quite…
Dean understands, on some deep down level what's happening, but he can't stop it. His thoughts, his actions, even his confusion are out of his control, until the moment he figures it out and panics, and he wakes up again… and again and again. The déjà vu becomes stronger each time, but he still can't fit the pieces together. He's forgotten something, he knows he's forgotten something, but he can't think that. Like everything else outside of confusion and panic, it's so far beneath the surface he can't reach it. That's what's annoying him the most. He knows that he knows, but he doesn't know what he knows, and even worse is that those thoughts are there but they aren't. Dean wants to scream, to yell, to pull himself out of whatever the hell this is, but nothing is in his control… so he runs to try and find Sam, only to be sucker punched by some unseen force, and he feels distant and disjointed for just a moment. Long enough to think; now this is familiar, before there's nothing…
Dean wakes with a start. He hears the sound of tires on gravel and sees the glow of head lights reflect inside the car. For some unknown reason he is flooded with relief. It's dark now, and that's as much a comfort as the approaching vehicle. Looking out the back window he sees Byron's Saab pull up and park maybe 30 feet away. He reaches for the door handle and slips out of the car.
Dean is sitting on the trunk of the Impala waiting for Byron to get out of his car. Byron leans his head against his steering wheel, glances at himself in the rear view mirror, runs his fingers over his eyes then leans his head back and heaves a sigh.
"Oh, for the love of …" Dean huffs. "You're worse than a girl, I swear to God."
Byron finally climbs out of his car and stares in Dean's direction. He stuffs his hands in his pockets, looks at his feet and walks, so freaking slowly, over towards him, until he's standing in front of the Impala, and maybe a foot to Dean's left. "Seriously, dude? Not even a 'hey Dean'. Whatever. You are not going to believe how freaking weird my day has been."
By way of answer Byron pulls his hands from his pockets, using the back of his wrists to wipe tears from his red puffed up eyes. "Man. Byron? Are you ok. You look like hell."
Byron rubs a hand over the trunk, and knocks three times. "Damnit Dean" he whispers.
"Byron? Dude, don't just ignore me. What's going on?" That familiar twinge of dread nudges at Deans stomach. "Look at me." But he doesn't, instead he turns his head towards the entrance of the bunker and looks at it like he's going to face the firing squad.
"Byron!" Dean yells his name. "Answer me!" Byron turns his body toward the Bunker now, and rubs his hands together, obviously trying to prepare himself for whatever lies ahead. "Byron! I am RIGHT HERE!" Dean reaches to grab Byron by the shoulder. He's going to turn him around, take him by the collar and shake some damn sense into him. Only he doesn't. Dean sees what happens. And when he sees it, he sees everything. He sees his hand slip through Byron like he's not really there. He sees the sunlight shine through his hand like he's so much dust. He sees himself reach for the door handle and just finds himself outside. He sees himself wanting to sit on the trunk of the Impala and just finds himself there. He feels the nothing that comes with it all.
"No. No, no, no, no, no, no, no." Byron's walking away now, and Dean follows. "Please, Byron, tell me I'm not… Byron, what the hell's happened? Byron! I'm right here! I'm right here!" He's reaching for Byron, trying to grasp his shirt, his shoulder… anything, but he slips through him. He feels the all too memorable tug in his stomach that tells him he's approaching the boarder of his allowed space. (He doesn't have a clue how he knows, and really doesn't have the time to think about now.) He stops short when the tugging becomes painful, like his stomach is trying to fly out the back of his spine. Dean watches Byron move towards the bunker, his head down again, and his walk slow. Byron rubs his nose and sniffles.
Watching his friend walk away is too much for him, and he decides to risk it. He takes a step past the boarder, and feels the punch. He feels distant and disjointed for just a moment. Long enough to think; Damnit, before there's nothing…
This time when Dean wakes up his first thought is to be outside the Impala. He finds himself there as quickly as he could think the thought, and begins to pace. He doesn't have all the pieces yet, but they're coming. He's slowing figuring it out. He sits on Baby's trunk, on her hood, in the front seat, back seat, on the ground next to her. He paces some more. He watches Byron leave, and not even bother to glance his way while Dean yells for him at the top of his lungs. He watches Byron come back with a bag in his hand. "Stop ignoring me! I'M RIGHT HERE!" The sun rises. He is vaguely aware that he should be tired, but he's not, he's just frustrated. He's missing something, something huge, and he wants either his brother or his best friend to get a clue, realize he's missing, come outside and fix this.
Reviews and constructive critisism is welcome.