A.N.: The plot thickens…actually it doesn't cause I haven't given you anything yet. But be patient, we'll be back to Dean in the next chapter and slowly but surely this mystery will be solved! Anywho, I hope you guys like this latest chapter if nothing else it has the Impala. :D Thank you for reading and reviewing and if I can manage it I'll put chapter 3 up tonight, cause I really want to know how Dean is doing too.

Disclaimer: Not mine.

"Dammit!" Sam slams the top of his brother's beloved car with his fist and resists the urge to kick the tire in pure frustration.

He leans down to open the door of the Impala and is struck by the wrongness of him being the one in the driver's seat. He instinctively looks over to the other seat and lets out a sigh when emptiness is all that greets him.

He cranks the key and the engine roars to life, loud and powerful and it almost feels like a protest from the car that Dean is not the one gripping the wheel.

"I know," Sam soothes, running a hand along the dash. "I know."

The jingle from his pocket snaps him out of his reverie as he digs for his phone.

"Yeah?" He inquires.

Bobby's voice filters through the phone. "Sam?"

"Yeah, it's me. What did you find?" He switches the car off and swipes his Dad's journal from under the seat.

"That's just it son, I didn't find anything."

"Nothing? Come on Bobby, you must have something."

"I wish to God I did Sam, but I came up with a big ol goose egg."

"Shit!" Sam hisses with another thump to the seat next to him.

"Quit beating up the car Sam, we'll get him back. And when we do he ain't gonna be none too happy that you are pounding on the car he spent weeks fixin'."

Sam runs his hand through his head. "I know, I know, it's just," He huffs out a breath. "There haven't been any survivors Bobby. Not a single one."

There is a long pregnant silence before Bobby chuckles. "Well then Dean's gonna be happy that he is the first. Gives that idjit something to brag about when we find him."

Sam can feel his own echoing laughter waver as it leaves his lips. "Yeah, so what do we do next?"

"You stay put; I'm on my way to you right now. We'll figure this out."

"Thanks Bobby."

"Anytime kid." The old man grumbles before the line goes dead.

Sam eases the car out the parking lot. "Just hold on Dean," he whispers to the wind. "Please, just hold on."