Disclaimer: I might own this adventure, but I'll never own anything related to Supernatural.

Author's Note: I should be cleaning out my writing cave…it's such a mess… It's even worse than Bobby's house! But instead, I give you this! Chapter Nine! And Chapter Ten is under construction already!

Also, thanks to Winjennster for her help with this chapter! I think Bobby would appreciate your taste on this one!

Kudos to FrostyGossamer for finding Castiel and Crowley on the South Sandwich Islands in the last chapter. Way to use those coordinates to find our boys!

Vermillion, South Dakota

Bobby stared through the dusty windshield of his old, battered Chevelle; the neon lights flashing overhead reminding him of the many times he had come here in the past. There were some places he had never wanted to return to and this place was no exception. The small one story building was still as old and dilapidated as he remembered. It was one of the more seedy places he had set foot in over the years; but while some were no more than a blip in his memory, this one always got under his skin. He had made some regrettable deals here, and he had sworn years ago he would never come back. He grimaced as he slid his pistol under the driver's seat. There was no point in taking any weapons in with him; he wouldn't get past the door if he was armed. No, the only thing he needed in order to enter the building was cash and lots of it.

His fist curled around the roll of hundreds in his jacket pocket, hefting it in his hand for a moment; wondering if it would enough to get in. Not that it would matter, if it wasn't enough, he'd burn the place down to flush out the one person he needed.

He slid out of the car and slammed the door behind him, catching the attention of the man standing in front of the door. Bobby ignored the few people loitering around the door and went straight for the tall, dark man standing in front of the door.

"Ah, Bobby Singer," the man said as Bobby stepped in front of him. "We haven't seen you around these parts of a long, long time."

"Doyle, you haven't seen me anywhere in ages, you blind fool," Bobby quipped, his tone casual even though his body language said this meeting was far from it.

A crooked smile graced Doyle's face as he removed his dark glasses, revealing his cataract covered eyes. "And I remember now why I never missed you. Now, what brings such a morally ridden hunter back to our tables? You lose someone tonight?"

"I need to see Charlotte," Bobby ground out.

Doyle stared down at him. Even with the murkiness of his eyes, Bobby could feel the man looking right into him. "You sure about that, Singer? Charlotte isn't in the mood to haggle over prices these days."

Bobby held out the tightly rolled bundle of bills and placed it in Doyle's outstretched hand. "Neither am I."

Doyle hefted the money in his hand before nodding; he pocketed the cash and stepped aside from the door. "You remember the way?"

"Like a nightmare I can't forget," Bobby snapped as he yanked the door open and disappeared into the darkness.

It took a minute for Bobby's eyes to adjust to the dim lighting. Tables were scattered around the dark red room; the bar wrapping around the back of the large room. People sat scattered amongst the room, dice and cards littering the tables.

It was quiet, except for the occasional clinking of glasses, the shuffling of cards, and the low murmur of voices. No one except the dealers looked up from the tables, grim smiles on each of their faces. Bobby huffed and adjusted his cap before heading towards to the black door that stood at the back of the room. Anyone who could afford to get in the front door could talk to Charlotte, but most couldn't outright afford her services. She had expensive taste.

He didn't hesitate as he pushed the black door open and entered the small room. It reeked of incense; the room was murky from its haze. He approached the low table in the middle of the room and dropped unceremoniously into the oversized black armchair. He surveyed the room, it looked innocent enough but he knew Charlotte. She would have the advantage.

He was pulled from his thoughts as someone in the room cleared their throat. He remained reserved and didn't show his surprise, although he had been fairly certain he had been alone when he had entered the room. Charlotte, always with a trick up her sleeve; she was more slippery than any snake he knew. He gazed through the incense laden fog and saw her sitting right across from him, her dark features blending into the bleakness of the room.

"Bobby Singer," she crooned from her own chair. "It's been awhile. What's got you slumming this time of night?"

Bobby frowned at her, his impatience and anger boiling underneath. "I don't have time for your bullshit tonight, Charlotte. I need some answers and so far…."

"And so far, you're shit out of luck," Charlotte stated knowingly as she glared over the table at him. Her eyes burned into him. "If there were easy answers, you wouldn't be here."

He didn't say anything as she smiled coolly.

"And if you wanted cheap answers, you wouldn't dare bother me," she said scathingly.

Bobby sat silent, wondering what this would cost him.

"Oh this must be good," she mused as she leaned towards him, her face illuminated by the low hanging globe between them. "What could it be? You lost someone…No, that couldn't be it…you've got no one left to lose…Someone died on your watch…Now Bobby, that's just a hazard of the job…no point in crying over spilled milk."

Bobby looked up and locked eyes with her; she smiled wickedly before speaking again. "Whatever it is, it'll cost you."

"How much you want," he demanded as he adjusted his cap. "I've got cash."

"I'm done with cash deals, Bobby Singer. I want something money can't buy," she said, suddenly serious.

"No," he said as he stood to leave. "Cash or nothing."

"I'm not asking for your soul," she mused as she leaned back comfortably in the chair. "I could buy all the souls a girl could ever want, you know that."

Bobby walked slowly to the door, wanting nothing more than to leave Charlotte's company yet praying she would catch him before he walked out the door. Once he left, he wouldn't come back. Ever.

He was turning the doorknob when she spoke.

"Fine, I'll make an exception for old time's sake," she snapped.

"And the price," he asked with his back to her, his voice dripping with authority.

"A favor," she said.

Bobby turned and stared at her. "What kind of favor?"

"The kind a girl like me might need one day," she stated as she lit another stick of the foul incense. "Maybe I'll need a hunter to forgo killing me one day; with a reputation like yours, surely you could keep me alive with one phone call. Maybe I'll ask you to tell someone about me, someone important; someone who needs a deal and doesn't quite know where to strike one."

Bobby considered her offer. It was almost reasonable; far more reasonable than other deals she had made in the past. He returned to his chair and caught her attention.

"Agreed," he muttered. "But only if you come through on your end of the deal."

"So, Bobby," she said with a smirk. "What exactly do you need? Someone raised from the dead? A soul found? Or better yet….someone killed? Revenge, maybe? I've been doing a lot of revenge deals lately—"

"No," Bobby snapped. "Dean Winchester keeps getting taken by something. First it seemed innocent enough but then it evolved into something else. Every time he comes back, he can't remember what happened and each time he's in worse shape. This is the longest he's been gone and we've looked everywhere, read everything."

Charlotte listened with her head cocked to one side, her eyes flicking back and forth over his face as he spoke. "And?"

"We need him found," Bobby explained. "You give me a location of where he's at, we'll do the rest."

"Bobby, cut the shit. If he was anywhere you could get to, you'd be able to find him yourself and you wouldn't need my help…Just how far did you look for him?"

Bobby frowned and tapped his knee with his hand. "Far enough that we confirmed that the King of Hell doesn't have him and that he's also far enough out of sight that Heaven can't spot him either."

Charlotte paused at his answer. "Crowley…not sure I would trust him on that but we'll see. As for your Heavenly connection, maybe you should introduce us sometime."

Bobby smirked this time. "He burned the eyes out the last psychic he met."

Charlotte glared at him before shrugging. "Anyhow, what are you asking me to do? Find him? Or shake him loose from whatever's got him?"

"Either. Both, preferably. I need him alive," Bobby stated.

"If he's even alive when I find him…," Charlotte said as she settled back in her chair. "I don't do refunds."

"You never were funny," Bobby muttered under his breath.

"You bring me what I need," Charlotte asked.

"I know the drill," Bobby said as he placed the small leather pouch in her hand. It looked remarkable like a hex bag but Bobby had made this especially for Charlotte. It contained the traditional items she would need; an odd and unpleasant collection of Dean's hair, blood, and the final touch: a small token that represented Bobby in Dean's life. Something that connected them beyond all else, Bobby had finally settled on something small and well used: a bottle cap. Over the years, he and Dean had shared many bottles of whiskey and beer, sometimes after a day gone well, other times during a grueling patch up after a bad hunt, even more often just to grease the wheels of a rough conversation.

Charlotte smirked as she turned the bag over in her hand. "A bit sappier than most but nice touch, Singer."

Bobby sat back in his chair and waited. Charlotte hated to be rushed and wouldn't hesitate to have him removed from the room if she felt his impatience was going to distract her. In her trade, time was money and she had a never ending line of people willing to pay her. He shivered as the room suddenly dipped in temperature, making his breath come out in a puff of fog. He hated this part. It seemed wrong and unnatural. Not that anything they dealt with was ever natural…

He watched her suddenly become rigid in her chair, looking every bit like a frozen statue; he knew that she'd be freezing to the touch. Her eyes glazed over just as they turned white. Not even breathe escaped her red lips. She looked like something he needed to salt and burn, and honestly, one day he expect to. This was something he hated, the look of death that always settled over her when she stepped out of her body. He had asked her once, a long time ago, how she did what she did. Her explanation still made his skin crawl.

It was a rare thing, to find someone like Charlotte. If she hadn't been taken in by the allure of the darker side of their community, he would have called on her more often; but as it was the cost her lifestyle and talent made her far out of reach for the everyday problems.

He glanced at the clock on the wall above her; the hands were motionless. She always had that effect on clocks and timepieces and he had to wonder if it was because she was technically dead or because time ceased to move in the room. Either way, he would have no way of tracking how long she was gone.

He reached around the table and grabbed the bottle of Macallan from the where Charlotte kept her stash. Charlotte always had a bottle somewhere in the room with her, usually used to pry a higher price out of someone, and certainly with the amount of money he had paid her over the years he had earned his own glass of the stuff. He glanced back up the clock and shook his head. This could take hours and he needed to get back to Sam. He wondered how he would explain his sudden disappearance to Sam if he didn't make it back before Sam woke from his drug induced downtime; he certainly had no intention of telling him where he had really gone. No, Sam and Dean would better off to never encounter Charlotte. They were Winchesters and that meant they would strike a deal with anyone if they felt they needed something badly enough.

He frowned into his glass at the thought of another argument with Sam. They had exchanged several harsh words throughout the last several days; their fears and frustration over not being able to find Dean had worn through their last bits of patience with each other. He shrugged and settled back into his chair. There was nothing he could do about it now, he had to stay and wait for Charlotte.

Elsewhere Unknown

"Cas—"

Dean woke from his restless sleep with the name still rolling off of his tongue. Some part of him knew he had been dreaming again, begging and pleading for the angel to rescue him but he was too far out of his head to realize his dreams were no longer playing out silently in his head. Prayers, groans, curses had been tumbling out of his mouth for hours; each more desperate than the last.

He would have been mortified at the tears lacing trails down his cheeks if he had could have even felt them. He was exhausted and frozen to the bone. Rain constantly dripped through the roof, seeping into his clothing until he was soaked and shivering. It seemed like it never stopped raining here; where ever here was. He fought bile down again and choked from the taste. He had lost track of time, even the number of days he had been in the shack. The light never changed except for when the door opened and closed and he had lost track of even how often that happened. He hadn't eaten in who knows how long… they, whatever they were, came into the shack often to shove the mouthwateringly fragrant wafers into the men's open mouths. Dean had watched each time as the men opened their mouths like baby birds, begging to be fed. Before his lucidity had begun to crumble it hadn't escaped his attention that the men seemed more and more docile after each one. Now his addled memory fought to keep focused; to keep calling for Cas or anyone else who could hear him. Hell, he'd even prayed to Raphael at one point. But no one came to save him from his hunger and the bone aching cold.

Each time he felt one of the papery, sugary wafers slip into his mouth, he forced himself to fight back his hunger and spit it out. He didn't know how much longer he could resist them. Each time he woke up on the pallet, he prayed to Castiel. He knew that the last few times had bordered on begging, demanding even, but still no one came to save him.

He smirked deliriously, envisioning Castiel telling his superiors that he had lost the righteous man while he had been out busy doing some sort of nerdy angel work; no doubt converting strippers into nuns. He heard another growl from nearby and fought to focus. He knew his mind had been wandering.

He tried to stop his constant shivering. He heard it again and this time he felt the hunger pangs in his stomach. He frowned when he realized that the growling was coming from his own stomach.

His eyes blurred as the door nearby opened and closed. He could barely see the outline of someone approaching. Someone familiar. Someone he should know. Someone he would never forget.

"Cas?"

"Who," a familiar voice asked. Dean stiffened at the sound of the soft, warm voice and forced himself to look at her.

"Mom," he asked, trying to fight past the freezing cold and gnawing hunger, trying to find the part of himself that knew she wasn't there. "You're not real…."

"Dean," she said sweetly as she placed a hand on his cheek.

He found himself pressing into her touch, absorbing her warmth. She pressed her other hand to his forehead and looked at him caringly. "You're freezing, Dean. Let me help you."

"Can't…," Dean muttered through chattering teeth. He knew she wasn't there. She had to be a hallucination. But damn if she wasn't a warm one. He pressed into her hands, trying to focus on the heat and not her eyes.

"It's my job. I'm your mom," she cooed into his ear.

Dean shook his head and bit back a groan as another wave of nausea assailed him, pain lacing through his abdomen. He felt like someone was trying to rip his guts out through his belly button.

"Stop," Dean murmured as he rolled his face away from her.

She hooked a finger under his chin and turned his head back, forcing him to look at her. "Stop what?"

"Hurts…" Dean hissed through gritted teeth as another wave of pain tore through him, making him pull furtively against the vines and ropes that held him in place. He choked as another wave of pain started, one after the other. It felt like someone was grabbing him, pulling him, tearing at him. He could almost hear someone calling his name; demanding he answer them.

He felt something touch his lips. His green eyes flew open and locked with Mary's. "Open up," she said as she ran the wafer across his lips. "One little bite and you can get down. I'll find you a warm bed and something warm to eat. You can sleep. You can eat. I'll be right there looking after you."

Dean shook his head and pulled away from her touch, tasting blood in his mouth. As another torrent of pain tore through him, the last of his restraint fell away, and his mouth opened to let a loud, pain filled scream tear its way out of his throat. He gagged and choked as he felt something being shoved into his mouth, something sweet and warm.

He choked in fear and desperately tried to spit the wafer out but Mary held her hand firmly over his mouth and nose, a smile beaming on her face. Her fingers bruised him as she squeezed his face harshly, her inhuman strength betraying her. "Almost there, Dean."

Tears streaked down his cheeks as his panic and confusion tore at him, making it impossible to breathe. He felt another wave of pain start in his abdomen and felt himself seize against his restraints, unable to stop himself from arching against them. He gagged as the need to swallow and breath grew.

Dean suddenly felt himself engulfed in an icy grip, one that laced through him. He could hear someone calling his name. He sent one last prayer up to Castiel as he gagged and swallowed the sweet wafer.

Just as he did, he felt a hard jolt run through him as though someone had physically yanked him by his very soul. He felt the room spin and tilt before he felt himself falling, the room was sailing past him; a loud sob of relief escaped him as he felt the scenery begin to fade away.

He heard a loud screech and he forced himself to look. Just as the room lost focus, he saw Mary's face fall away to reveal the creature hidden underneath.

Vermillion, South Dakota

Bobby was jerked from his meandering thoughts of worry and regret as Charlotte suddenly heaved herself out of her chair. Her breathe moved in and out in short bursts, each one a large puff of cold air. She moved awkwardly, running her hands up and down her arms as though to brush off the freezing temperature that had settled over her. She grabbed Bobby's glass from the table before filling it to the top and drinking deeply.

"You get him," Bobby demanded. He had to know if Dean was alive.

Charlotte choked on the glass and dropped into the chair. "The price just went way up," she said through chattering teeth.

"Did you get him," Bobby barked, making her jump at the sound.

She hesitated before nodding. "Yeah, I got him."

Bobby felt himself relax marginally. "Alive?"

Charlotte's hands shook as she set the glass down. "I don't know."

"What do you mean, you don't know? You saw him," Bobby snapped. "You have to know what kind of condition he's in."

"I don't know, Bobby," Charlotte spat. "I was too busy trying to get us out of there, alright? I didn't think it was wise to stay and have a chit chat about his wellbeing. You wanted him shaken loose and that's what I did. Now get out."

Bobby frowned and stared at the trembling woman. Not much shook Charlotte. "Where was he?"

Charlotte stared into her glass. "I don't know and I don't want to know."

"Bullshit, you saw something! It might be enough that I can figure this problem out," Bobby said.

Charlotte said nothing. Bobby sighed and dug into his other pocket. He pulled out a roll of cash and set it on the table between them. "Everything, Charlotte, down to the last nitty-gritty details; I need everything you saw."

"There were dozens of them—the men. Trussed up like some sort of prisoners…but they were complacent. No one was fighting to get loose. No one was crying out. They just laid there. Waiting…"

"Waiting for what," Bobby asked, carefully watching her face.

"I don't know… nothing good, that's for certain," Charlotte replied with a shudder.

"What had them? Did you see anything that might help me figure out what they are," Bobby said, trying to coax her elaborate.

"I don't know, Bobby. I really don't. Even if I had taken more time to look, I wouldn't be able to identify them. I'm not a hunter."

"So where was this place? How did you find him?"

"He was nowhere I've ever been before and I'll never go back there either. It was dark and damp. It smelled earthy and even though I could see trees I had to distinct feeling that everything there was just a backdrop. Its someplace we're not meant to find."

"Real helpful," Bobby snapped sarcastically.

I did my job now get out," Charlotte snapped back as she rose from her chair.

Bobby stood and headed towards the door, pausing as he turned the knob. "Where did you drop him?"

"Newport News, Virginia."

"Is it warm," Bobby asked hopefully.

Charlotte shook her head. "I have no clue but the weather isn't your biggest problem."

"What now," Bobby asked with a grimace.

"You know Fort Eustis, the Army base that's there," Charlotte said, tapering off to silence.

Bobby groaned. "Charlotte, if you dropped him on a military base…he's a Winchester! You know better, you might as well just have dropped him smack dab in the middle of the FBI building!"

"It's not like I just pick some location, Bobby! I shook him loose from where he was and that's where he ended up! You better just be damn happy that I even know where he ended up. You have the location you wanted, now get out!"

Bobby slipped through the door just as she hurled the glass at the door, shattering into a hundred pieces with a loud crash. He didn't bother to look at anyone in the room as he hurried towards the door. He had what he came for. Now he just had to find anyone near enough to Dean to find him before the military patrols did.

Alright, this chapter was fun but I think the next one will be even more awesome! Time to shake Dean's touch with reality. Bwaahaahhahaha! Please remember to leave a review if you can, I appreciate it!