Disclaimer: I don't own anything from Supernatural. I'd be happier just being a writer anyhow…for Kripke!...*deep sigh* That would be awesome…Okay, back to reality- oh right! This is fiction.

Moving on!

Alright fellow cohorts, you start reading and reviewing; while I start chapter three up.

Bobby drove through the morning light, his car eating up the miles between Minnesota and home. Dean remained quiet from his place on the backseat. Neither one of them had said much since Bobby had roughly awakened Dean and hustled him out of the hospital. The first question out of Dean had been to ask where Sam was, the second was him wanting to know the date. He had sat, stunned and silent, on his bed as Bobby laced his boots and argued with the nurses.

Bobby was sure Dean hadn't even been truly awake as he had signed his own Against Medical Advice discharge paperwork.

Bobby frowned, worry eating at him. The doctor said Dean would be fine after some down time. He was so deep in thought that he nearly missed the sound from the backseat.

"What was that Dean," Bobby asked. "You awake, kid?"

"Bobby?"

"Yeah?"

"Where is Sam?"

"He's on the way. He'll be meeting us at my house sometime late tonight," Bobby reminded him.

"Where are we," Dean asked. He knew they were on the road, the feel of the car trying to lull him back to sleep.

"Nearly out of Minnesota and back into South Dakota," Bobby explained, concerned over Dean's confusion. "Why? Where do you think we are?"

He heard a yawn. "What day is it?"

"Tuesday," Bobby replied.

Dean didn't reply right away. "Tuesday…what's the date?"

Bobby swerved onto the off ramp, heading for the truck stop. He needed coffee and answers. After the engine cut out, he turned and stared down at Dean, laying on the backseat. His face was pale, stubbly. "Dean, son, just humor me. Where do you think we are?"

Dean squirmed under Bobby's gaze. "You already said we were—"

"No. Not where I told you we are; where do you think we are?"

Dean shrugged and sat up, gazing around.

"Alright, what day do you think it is?"

"Tuesday."

Bobby glared at Dean. "Smartass. Date?"

Dean looked uncertain. "June something."

Bobby didn't let his concern show through, it was May. He'd call Sam. "I'm gonna grab a coffee. Stay put."

"We're in the middle of nowhere. Where am I gonna go, Bobby?"

"That's exactly what I'm worried about."

Bobby hurried into the store, paying for gas and coffee.

As he climbed back into the car, he glanced over the seat and froze. Dean was gone.

Bobby looked frantically around the parking lot, but he couldn't see Dean anywhere. He ran back into the gas station, checked the bathrooms and adjacent diner, still no sign of Dean. He asked everyone around, but no one had seen Dean get out of the car. He was about to call Sam when he saw a cop car race past the gas station, lights blazing. He raced to his car without thinking. Dean had only been missing for a few minutes, he couldn't have gotten far. Bobby found the cop car, three miles away in a small city park.

Bobby grabbed a fake badge and headed for the cop, who was talking to a fearful looking young woman. Bobby could see Dean in the backseat of the cop car, looking confused. The cop glanced at Bobby's badge and filled him in. "This woman said she was out for a morning run, nearly fell right over him, scared her to death. He was talking nonsense and unable to get up on his own. I'm guessing drunk."

Bobby cleared his throat, making the young man look at him. "Actually, I'm here to arrest him for arson in South Dakota. You mind letting me take him from here?"

The young man hesitated but nodded. "Sure, why not? Save me some paperwork."

Bobby led Dean, handcuffed, to his car. With a nod to the cop, he headed back to the interstate. Bobby pulled over before the on ramp.

"Dean, you with me," Bobby asked loudly.

Dean didn't answer him. He was mumbling, his eyes moving every which way, his hands moving incessantly. "Dean!"

"Bobby," Dean asked slowly, his mouth barely forming to word.

"Yeah, you alright kid," Bobby asked again.

"Key," he asked, fighting the restricted movement of the cuffs.

Bobby pulled a handcuff key from his pocket and handed it to Dean. Bobby took the handcuffs from Dean and hefted them in his hand. They might offer him some piece of mind, if nothing else. With one swift motion he handcuffed Dean to the door handle. Dean yanked against the restraint, rolling his head towards Bobby, glaring. "Bobby?"

"Not taking any chances," Bobby said before he shifted into gear.

They road in silence for an hour before Bobby asked, "Wanna tell me how the hell you got from New Mexico to Minnesota in five hours? You didn't fly, drive, or walk. Spill it, boy."

Dean shook his head. "I didn't even know I was in Minnesota until you said so Bobby. The last thing I remember was walking out of the bar near our motel in New Mexico."

"How long were you in the bar before you left?"

"I don't know, maybe two hours. They didn't have a pool table so there wasn't much to do."

"Well, that moves the timeline down to three hours; three hours that put you over a thousand miles away from your brother," Bobby said, speculating over the possibilities.

They didn't say anything for a long while, riding in silence.

"Dean, about the date…it's May 12th, not June."

Dean looked surprised, but didn't say anything.

"Sure you don't remember anything else," Bobby asked softly. "Anything at all?"

Dean shook his head. "Not a damn thing. Just a few minutes of lying in the ambulance, then you in the hospital room shaking me awake. Not even sure how I got to the ambulance."

Bobby felt Dean's question. "You were found laying next the road, half in a ditch. The kid who found you claims you couldn't have been there for more than an hour, said he passed that same spot on his way to drop off his girlfriend, he found you on his way home…weird part is that the doctor claimed that given the current weather, there was no way you could have gotten such a bad case of exposure in such a short time."

Dean pulled Bobby's jacket around him, remembering the rain falling on him.

"And then your little Houdini act back at the gas station…we're gonna have to figure this out," Bobby stated.

"Whatever it was, maybe it—"

"Don't even say that 'it won't happen again' cause if there is one thing I know about the Winchesters, it's that nothing is ever easy," Bobby said, cutting Dean off.

Dean snorted and turned back to the window, staring. It was bright out. For some reason, it made him feel empty. Anxious, even. Somewhere, he was missing out on something.

Bobby drove silently, watching Dean out of the corner of his eye. He knew that until Sam arrived, he needed to keep a close eye on the older boy, trouble was brewing and he wasn't going to let it happen on his watch. Not again.

Dean woke to the car door slamming. He followed Bobby inside, heading for the upstairs, still tired.

"Nope. Take the couch," Bobby said firmly.

Dean turned, surprised. Bobby had always let them use the spare bedroom; hell, he usually demanded they get their asses of the couch and into a real bed.

"Until we know that happened, I want you close. Within my sights and locked down," Bobby said. "I can start doing some research while you get some sleep. Be easier if you were closer to the books."

Dean nodded. "Sure thing, Bobby..."

Hours away, Sam barreled down the interstate, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. He stared straight ahead, his eyes glued to the road; while his mind was whirring with possibilities of what could be happened to Dean. The fact that Dean seemed unharmed, except for the outdoor exposure and exhaustion, made the incident seem more of a curiosity than a hostile act. That would seemingly rule out demons and most everything else they had pissed off. He shook his head in frustration, he couldn't think of anything. He was angry at himself for not going with Dean to the bar…maybe if he had been with him…or maybe if he had somehow kept Dean from going…maybe…it was Sam's fault.

It was evening when Bobby heard the rumble of the Impala pulling into the yard.

He glanced up from the text in front of him. He was surprised when Dean didn't shift at the sound. Under different conditions, he would have gone to check the car and Sam. Now he stared at the ceiling, unblinking. He had spent hours slowly pulling against the handcuff; loose, taut, loose, taut. The rhythm hadn't ceased when Bobby had asked about it; and fearing Dean would hurt himself, Bobby had wrapped a washcloth around his wrist under the cuff.

Bobby left Dean on the couch and met Sam at the door. "Go see your brother and then meet me in the kitchen."

Sam tore through the house and came to halt when he saw Dean.

Dean looked up and said, "Please say it's time to go, Sammy."

Sam shook his head. "No, Dean. We need to figure out what's happening to you. We're staying here. And I do mean ALL of us, okay?"

"Fine. See if you can spring me though. Bobby is a real prison warden," Dean grumbled. "Been here on my ass all day."

Sam laughed. "That's kind of the idea, Dean. Is there anything you remember?"

"I already told Bobby that I don't remember anything," Dean snapped. "Now let me loose."

"Give me a minute to talk to Bobby," Sam said with a sympathetic nod. They had all been restrained at some point and it never got any easier. Sam himself still felt panicky at the idea of being restrained, the anxiety of detoxing in the panic room had always been closely under the surface.

Bobby was standing over the stove when Sam walked in, burgers in the frying pan.

"That a peace offering," Sam asked with a knowing smile. He had bought enough peace-offering burgers and pies over the years to know one when he saw it.

Bobby snorted into a beer. "He's refused to acknowledge me for the past four hours. He's done being handcuffed, but Sam—he disappeared right out of the car—that's not something we're prepared to handle, not without some more information."

"Trust me, I'd have done the same thing," Sam sympathized.

"So, what the hell do we do now," Bobby asked.

Before Sam could answer, a muffled yell came from the other room. He rushed into the room, Bobby right on his heels. They froze in the doorway. Dean was still handcuffed to the iron bar Bobby had bolted to the wall right over the couch, but something was wrong.

He was levitating. Nearly two foot off the couch; his arm was painfully contorted as it pulled against the metal restraint that held him.

He was obviously trying to yell, although it was muffled; as though coming from somewhere far away or underwater.

His image suddenly flickered, much like a spirit might.

He turned and made eye contact with Sam, terror in his eyes. He opened his mouth again, another pain and fear filled scream rushed out of his lungs just as Sam dove towards him.

Just as Sam reached for him, Dean flickered and disappeared.

"Dean!"

Alrighty then…my face hurts from all the evil smirking I've been doing this morning. Bwahahahaha! How do you like it so far? Hopefully, you're enjoying this…cause I sure am! Review Revolution!

Anyone want to furnish a good guess what they're dealing with?! Do your worst! ;)