Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Supernatural. If you're looking to sell off your own share, hit me up.

Author's Note: This story is progressing on its originally track; however, after a wee bit of mind blowing research, the ride is going to get bumpier for Dean. And darker…and probably even more whumpy, angsty, and hopefully shocking than before. Bwahahahahaa!

ALSO, so sorry for the horrendous delay. I've suddenly got relatives calling me at all hours scheduling vacations, layovers, and even moving in. Nothing like stressing yourself into a non-creative coma…

Anyhoo…

Sioux Falls, South Dakota

Bobby stared out over the junkyard, but he wasn't seeing anything in front of him. Not the reflection of the sunset off the Impala's gleaming paint job. Not the shadows creeping across the yard as the day made its transition to night. He was staring into the distant, his mind wandering farther than his sight could ever take him; wondering where Dean might be.

It had been three days without any word of Dean.

The phones had been ringing off their hooks, not surprising given that Bobby had called, begged, and threatened everyone who had every thought to call Bobby for a favor over the years. It was time to call in everything owed to him and then some. He had every known hunter in the continental US looking for Dean. And so far, they had nothing.

He listened as Sam eased out the screen door behind him. Nothing was said as Sam stood next to him, his own eyes wandering the horizon. It had been a rough few days and Sam's post-concussion status had only made things more difficult.

He had been stuck in a loop of "find Dean" for the first day, making it impossible for Bobby to turn his back on Sam for even a minute. Bobby had finally yanked the battery out of every running car in the yard and locked all the gates. But that hadn't stopped Sam from wandering out in the yard at night, calling out Dean's name loud enough to raise the dead. Bobby had finally coaxed Sam into sleeping in the panic room, locking him in after Bobby knew he had drifted to sleep, so that he himself could get some much needed sleep.

That had just been the first day.

Day two had ended with Sam dogging Bobby around the house, unable to recall how long Dean had been gone. It had been exasperating for the older man. He knew the after effects from a concussion could take days, sometimes even weeks or months to fully disappear. Considering that Sam had experienced them before, the recovery time could take even longer. His confusion and mood swings were hard to handle and Bobby was beginning to wonder if he should have left Sam in the hospital, even if it was more for Bobby's sanity than Sam's wellbeing.

Bobby found relief on the third morning when he had found Sam in the kitchen making coffee. Without being asked, Sam had offered up his name, their exact location and coordinates, and the date and time. Bobby hadn't said anything, just clapped him on the shoulder and headed for the books. He knew Sam was still mad at him for letting Dean loose and he wasn't about to step in the path of his temper. Sam had sat at Bobby's desk most of the day, silently pouring through books while Bobby answered the phones. Not much was said as the day had progressed. Bobby had gotten more frustrated with every worthless phone call he received and Sam had gotten increasingly somber with every volume he set aside.

Now they were headed into day four.

"What do we do," Sam asked without looking at him. "We can't just sit on our asses and wait."

Bobby nodded his agreement. "You tried calling Castiel?"

Sam nodded. "Every hour on the hour, but he's not responding. Hate to say it, but it looks like we're on our own."

Bobby huffed his disapproval. "You'd think he could get his feathery ass down here to help find the man he saved from Hell."

"You'd think so, but angels—well, in Dean's own words—are just a bunch of dicks," Sam said with a faint smile. "Maybe we should try summoning him."

Bobby headed back into the house. "Now you're using your noggin."

Once they had everything laid out, Sam recited the well-known words.

Nothing happened.

Bobby and Sam peered around the room, their brows furrowed in confusion. "Can an angel refuse to respond to a summoning," Sam asked.

"Didn't think so," Bobby mumbled as he flipped through the pages, looking for an answer. "Maybe he's in battle and can't right now."

Sam dropped onto the couch and sighed. "So much for that then."

"What if something demonic has Dean," Bobby mused. "He wasn't possessed, obviously, but what if Crowley needed Dean for something?"

Sam's demeanor changed instantly. "Like what?"

"I don't know; do I look like a smug demon who sits up all night making plans for the righteous man?"

Sam snorted at the image.

"Alternatively to calling on Castiel, we could call up Crowley."

Sam looked at Bobby in disbelief. "Wait. You're serious?"

"You're the one who said we can't sit here on our asses. We could at least see if he knows anything."

"And what happens if Crowley takes it upon himself to find Dean first? What then," Sam asked.

"How else can we know that Crowley doesn't already have Dean," Bobby asked with a frown. "Can we take the risk of not knowing?"

Sam stood from the couch. "I'll start getting the stuff. You get the devil's trap where you want it."

It didn't take long for them to be ready. Salt and holy water in hand, Bobby tossed the match into the bowl, sending a plume of smoke to the ceiling. He gazed through the smoke and almost sighed in relief when he saw the well-known silhouette. At least something had worked right.

He moved to stand in front of his desk; Sam at his side with his arms crossed and a frown on his face.

Crowley turned slowly in the devil's trap, the look of thinly veiled disdain in his smile. "Been awhile, boys."

"Not long enough," Sam spat.

"That hurts, Moose," Crowley cooed in his smooth voice. He looked from Sam to Bobby before gazing around the rest of room. "Where's the missing stooge?"

Bobby cleared his throat. "That's why you're here."

A look of pleasant surprise crept across Crowley's face. "Oh really? Do tell."

"He's missing," Sam blurted out. "Do you have him?"

Crowley smiled coolly and twisted his cane in his hand. "I can't tell you much I wish I could say yes to that. But no, sadly, I don't have your trained monkey in a cold, dark cell somewhere in the depths of Hell. Maybe next time I'll have better luck than…whoever did you say took him?"

Bobby narrowed his eyes and stared at the possessed man, tapping the flask of holy water against his leg. "We didn't."

Crowley shrugged. "That's too bad. I could have—"

"Sam. Bobby." A monotone voice rang out from behind them; they both turned quickly and found Castiel standing behind the desk, a look on his face that could almost have been taken for displeasure.

"Cas, we've been calling you for—"

"I heard you, Sam."

"Then why the hell didn't you get down here sooner," Bobby snapped angrily.

"The war in Heaven rages on and I am needed."

"Don't give me that bull crap," Bobby exclaimed. "We needed your help! Dean needs your help!"

"I have not received any recent prayers from Dean," Castiel stated. "Therefore—"

"We, Cas— Bobby and I—we needed you. For Dean," Sam said, interrupting.

"Why did you summon both myself and the King of Hell simultaneously," Cas asked, staring curiously across the room at Crowley.

"Cause you weren't answering us," Sam said with a shrug.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. Sounds like someone isn't being a team player," Crowley said with a smirk as he gazed at the angel.

Castiel glowered across the room at him.

Well, it certainly looks like you boys can sort this out on your own now that your little angel decided to show up. I'll just be on my way then," Crowley said as he toed the line of the devil's trap. "Someone get the door for me?"

Bobby turned and pointed a finger at him, anger in his eyes. "Not on your life. Not until we're done."

Castiel gazed around the room and finally noticed the obvious absence. "Where is Dean?"

Sam sighed and ran a hand over his tired, stubbly face. "That's what we're trying to figure out, Cas. He's missing."

"For how long?"

"For as long as we've been calling your name out," Bobby snapped.

"Bobby, I sense your anger; however, I have far greater responsibilities than keeping tabs on a man prone to trouble," Castiel said, standing to his full height and staring down at Bobby.

"Cas, come on man. Give us five minutes of your time. This is Dean we're talking about here," Sam pleaded.

Castiel sighed and disappeared.

"Balls! Where did he go this time," Bobby spat angrily.

"Eh, angels," Crowley said with a carefree shrug. "Can't easily kill them. Can't seem to do without them these days. I would hate to be one of your lot right about now."

"Shut up, Crowley," Sam muttered.

Suddenly Castiel reappearing in front of Sam, startling him and forcing him to take a step back.

"I do not see him anywhere," Castiel stated with a shake of his head.

"What do you mean," Sam asked in disbelief, his exhaustion beginning to show. "You have to be able to find him!"

"But as I just said, I do not see Dean anywhere," Castiel replied. His monotone voice, void of any concern for Dean instantly infuriated Sam.

"Look again, Cas," Sam demanded loudly, impatiently. "You have to find him!"

"There would be no point, Sam. He is not anywhere I am able to see; therefore, I am unable to assist you. I am needed in Heaven now," Castiel replied, his head tilted slightly to one side. "I will do my best to resume my search once things in Heaven cease to need my immediate attention."

He was gone in an instant.

Sam sighed and dropped against the desk, a look of defeat on his face.

"Oh come now, Gigantor, no reason to go around like someone kicked your puppy," Crowley said with a crooked grin. "Just because your angel was worthless to you, doesn't mean I will be."

Sam didn't say anything as Bobby stepped in front of him. "Why would you help us find him?"

"Well, I'm not about to expend valuable resources to find your missing Ken doll without some sort of prior negotiations," Crowley said smugly as he patted his breast pocket. "Have a pen handy?"

"No one is signing anything from you, you piece of shit," Bobby snapped as he stood tall over the man in the circle. "I can leave you in there to rot! You want out, you're going to need to start negotiating with us."

Crowley's eyes narrowed. "Have it your way. I can sit here for an eternity, until this old heap falls down around us all. Or until my people come looking for me, which they will soon enough."

Bobby and Sam didn't move from their places, each lost in their own thoughts. Bobby eventually dropped into his desk chair and began to read while Sam collapsed into a heap on the couch. The evening slipped into night, Crowley hummed to himself as the outside world darkened. It was hours past midnight when Bobby caught himself staring over the top of the book at Crowley.

Their eyes met and a small grin crossed Crowley's face. "You have the look of a man about to make a deal."

"Fat chance," Bobby snorted. He glanced at Sam, snoring slightly as he slept. "What about you? You ready to make a deal yet?"

Crowley's smile grew. "Is that desperation, I detect? I know you and Sam are a tad attached to the troublemaker, but being desperate to find him? That's just a weak spot waiting to be exploited."

Bobby slowly rose from his chair and walked out of the room; he returned a minute later with a beer in his hand and was surprised to find Crowley sitting in his chair.

Bobby glanced from Crowley's smug face to the now broken devil's trap. He felt another wave of frustration roll over him; first Dean was appearing and disappearing all over the damn country, then Castiel wouldn't appear for a summoning, and now Crowley was finding ways to break out of devil traps. Something wasn't adding up. "Don't suppose you want to tell me how you got out of there?"

Crowley smirked. "A business associate stopped by unexpectedly. He found my current restraint a hindrance to our arrangement."

Bobby shook his head and tossed the cap from the beer onto the desk. "This day just gets better and better. But I must say I'm surprised you bothered to hang around. Makes me think you've got something to say."

"I thought you should know that your hospitality is lacking…with the devil trap and all…And that while I was telling the truth about not having your precious Dean, I will find him soon enough. And when I do find him, expect the cost of his return to be exponentially higher than you can afford."

"Lot of talk from the demonic piece of crap that has yet to get out of my house," Bobby said as he motioned to the door.

As quick as Bobby could blink, Crowley was gone.

Bobby dropped back into his chair and grabbed another book to look through. He tossed one to Sam; it landed right next to the couch with a loud thud.

"Dean," Sam said loudly as he suddenly bolted upright, his eyes still glazed over from sleep.

"Nothing yet but we've got to double our efforts to find him," Bobby said. "Go start another pot of coffee."

It was going to be another long night.

Elsewhere

Deep down he knew something was wrong.

Each time his mom ruffled his hair, something tickled the back of his brain, telling him he was forgetting something.

The coolness of her touch made him cringe. Hadn't she always been warm?

Yet each time the music started again, he smiled and took her hand, leading them to join the others.

The bright light from the full moon illuminated the grassy hillside, while paper lanterns glowed in the trees nearby. The group gathered time and time again to dance where the moonlight touched the ground. Time passed by unnoticed until the first bit of morning light broke across the far horizon. Some of the dancers hurried into the trees with their partners, hand in hand, and disappeared under the dark canopy. Dean watched the morning light dance on the far horizon and glanced towards the couples disappearing into the trees. He sighed with something close to desire and stared after them.

"You want to follow them?"

Dean tore his eyes away from the dark trees looming only a few yards away and glanced at Mary. He nodded slowly. "Yeah."

"You can."

Dean took a step towards the trees.

"You'll need to eat first," Mary said as she took his hand and led him toward a nearby table that he hadn't noticed. He sank into one of the wooden chairs and glanced at the collection of people surrounding the table. Everyone was smiling and laughing, but few words were exchanged by anyone. For each of the young men seated at the table, there was a woman by his side.

He frowned as the nearby music faded.

No sound permeated the trees and only the sound of a few men talking covered the dead silence that seemed to be creeping upon them.

Only when Dean turned to his right and found the chair empty did he realize something was missing. He stared down at it the chair and frowned.

"Sam."

Mary's face froze briefly before she forced her smile wider. "Who?"

"Sam," he repeated, suddenly confused as he glanced around slowly. "Where is Sam?"

"We don't need to worry about Sam," she said soothingly as she patted his arm. "Let's choose something to eat. We've had a long night and you must be hungry."

He stared at the feast piled high before him. She pushed a small pastry into his hand and smiled at him. "Eat. If you want to follow everyone else, you have to eat. Once you do, you and I can take a walk into the woods."

He turned the warm pastry over in his hand, its sweet smell permeating the air. He hadn't felt this good…this loved… since….he couldn't even remember how long. Not since he was little…He smiled warmly at her. He remembered her face.

It had smiled down at him throughout his early childhood.

It had that often returned in his dreams.

And it often came with nightmares…and fire.

He turned and looked at her again, his heart skipping a beat. Something was wrong...something didn't make sense.

He reached out to touch her blonde hair before whispering, "But you died…"

As the words slipped past his lips, silence over took the table. The others at the long table turned and stared at him.

A woman near the end of the table stood and pointed at him. "He needs to eat. Now."

"He was just about to," Mary replied, her voice suddenly sharp.

He felt a small tug of worry pull at his mind and looked at his mom for clarity.

She took his hand and smiled. "Dean, I'm right here with you. I didn't die. I've been here the whole time waiting for you to come and dance with me."

Her blonde curls framed her face beautifully. The softness of her smile and eyes…he couldn't take his eyes off of her; he slowly nodded. Why would he have ever thought she had died? She was right here.

He turned the pastry over his hand again, the smell of it made his stomach growl in hunger.

"You need to eat," she said with an encouraging smile. "You've been here a long while and haven't eaten yet."

He knew he was hungry. He couldn't remember the last time he had eaten. The smell of the pastry tickled his nose again…he knew it somehow…he had smelled it before. He tried to rack his brain, but it was as if he couldn't get a hold on his thoughts.

He glanced towards the dark, silent trees; his stomach suddenly rolled with worry… something wasn't quite right, but what?

"Where is…."

"There is no one else, Dean. There's just you and me."

"What about—"

"Eat, Dean. You'll understand everything later. Right now, you're tired and hungry. Let us take care of you."

Dean stared into her eyes and nodded slowly, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. He lifted the pastry to his mouth, the smell once more tickling his nose.

His mouth dried instantly as he suddenly remembered where he had smelled it before …Washington…Bobby's house…Bobby… Sam. Where were they?

He stood suddenly, the food falling from his hand. He looked at the people at the table, trying to piece everything together.

"I don't know you… any of you…Sam. I need Sam."

Mary was at his side instantly. "No."

Her voice was cold, heartless.

Dean stared at her face, the morning light finally reaching where they stood. As the light touched her face, she took a step back into the shade. Something about her face was wrong…her eyes. They were darkening.

Dean took a step away from her. "You're not my mom."

A smile passed over her face, freezing in place. "Of course I am, Dean. You can stay here with me, if you try." She motioned for him to come to her.

Dean took another step away from her. "No. I'm not going anywhere with you."

The smile on her face disappeared as she took a step toward him. As she stepped into the morning light, she began to change. She grew thin and lanky, her skin taking on an inhuman paleness. Her blonde hair gave way to short shaggy black hair.

Dean froze as she quickly closed the gap between them; she grabbed his arm tightly and lifted him off the ground.

"What are you," Dean choked out as the grip on his arm tightened painfully. His arm was pulsating with pain.

"It no longer matters," it said with a gravelly voice that surprised Dean. "We did our best to offer you the easy path, like the others. Now we will do this our way."

"We? Our? Looks like its only you and me out here now," Dean said through gritted teeth.

As dozens of similar creatures stepped onto the shadowy line that separated the now bright hillside from the forest, Dean swallowed the lump in his throat. "Sonovabitch."

Okay….you know what to do…..also, guess away. Anyone understand the food? ;) Never take a cookie from a stranger...Bad things always happen...Bwahaaahhaahaha!