Dean dreamed that he was four years old again.

He was in the kitchen, helping his mother make pie, covered in flour. Every so often she would sweep him up in a hug and kiss his forehead.

After a while, his father came down the stairs, carrying Sammy. Sammy was only a couple months old, and he was so small that Dean almost couldn't believe that one day Sammy would grow to be as tall as Dean was at that moment.

Dean sat between his father and mother at the dinner table with Sammy in a high chair to eat the pie. Dean had to sit on a few encyclopedias to reach the tabletop. The apples oozed out of the side of the pie, and it was warm and gooey, which was Dean's favorite way to eat it.

Dean ran his tongue over the roof of his mouth, and was surprised by a slight metallic taste. Ignoring it, he took another bite of the pie, until the taste became stronger and stronger. It covered up the sweet taste of apples. Dean stared hard at his pie, and slowly it shifted until the apple filling turned a sickening red color. Dean tried to call out for his parents, but they had left the table. Sammy was trapped in his high chair, trying to escape, but not before some blood dripped from the ceiling and landed on his lips. Confused, Sammy licked it up. Dean turned his eyes heavenward and his eyes found his mother, pinned to the ceiling, cut open and bleeding until a fire erupted around her and-

"Now that I've got your attention, I'd like a quick word."

Dean found himself in the cheap motel bed he'd fallen asleep in. He scrambled out on top of the covers. Sam was still sleeping soundly in the bed beside him. Dean looked at the far wall and his heart jumped into his throat when he saw Cas, standing almost motionless, staring at Dean.

"Isn't that adorable? He watches you while you sleep. Actually, now that you mention it, it's more creepy than cute."

It definitely wasn't Sam or Cas that was talking, but Dean couldn't figure out who was.

"Please, Dean. It's me, your new buddy Michael. I thought we should make an acquaintance."

"Where are you?" Dean said hoarsely.

"Well, I'm sort of all around. You see, I haven't taken a vessel yet. Generally this would mean that my voice would shatter eardrums and glass, but the funny thing about dreams is that you can twist them around and truly make anything possible."

Dean swallowed. "Wow. An angel with a sense of humor. First time for everything, I guess."

"Like I said, Dean, I can twist anything around."

"So I'm guessing that you're here to talk about wearing me as a prom dress."

"If that's how you want to phrase it, yes. I was thinking more like wearing you as my battle armor and being raised into eternal glory, but it's just like a Winchester to decide on imagery that pleases the whims of a teenage girl."

"You know, for trying to convince me to join with you, you're being kind of a dick," Dean growled.

"If I wasn't a dick, would you respect me?"

Dean didn't have an answer.

"That's what I thought. You see, Dean, you have a strange disposition to gravitate only towards those that you feel can hold their own. You feel protectiveness, but only when you fancy to. So, speaking like that, if I were to be submissive and kind and gentle when dealing with you, you would only blow me off. If I were to be too aggressive and simply attempt to torture everyone you hold dear until you say yes, you would die trying to fight me. But this way, I have your undivided attention. It's not too subtle, but it's not too forward. It's just where I need it to be for you to listen."

"Making me watch my mom burn on the ceiling isn't considered being too forward?"

"Well, I needed an attention-getter so I could get you engrossed enough in the dream that I could establish a link. This dream stuff is tricky business, Dean, and it's a pain to get it right, but in the end it's so worth it."

"It doesn't matter what you say," Dean said gruffly. "I'll never say yes to you. I don't plan on ever being worn as a meat suit, no way."

"I've got eternity, Dean. You've got weeks at best. Little Lucy's not going to wait for me forever."

Donna was walking down her street. Her mum had taken the car that day, leaving Donna no choice but to walk to work. Donna checked her watch and broke into a jog. She couldn't be late. She was only a temp; she was expendable, no doubt.

Gradually she slowed to a walk again, out of breath. Maybe she should make good on that free gym membership she got with her benefits at the company. Maybe she'd go today. Then again, maybe she'd just go tomorrow…

Her feet were feeling a bit sore because of her shoes. She was contemplating taking them off when a car pulled up beside her, and a perky female voice said, "Need a lift?"

Donna looked into the window of the car-after all, hitching a ride with a stranger would be stupid and dangerous, especially when her workplace was only a dozen more blocks away or so. But something in the woman's eyes, and her perfect smile, sort of put Donna in a daze.

"Sure," she said, and hurried around to the passenger's side. She slammed the car door and leaned back on the headrest, and exhaled loudly. "You might've just saved me my job. Thanks for that." The other woman grinned as she drove down the street, a bit recklessly and over the speed limit, Donna might add.

"It's no problem at all," the woman said as she swerved around a couple pedestrians crossing the street to blow through a red light.

Donna was confused as to why she wasn't panicking, but she felt calm in this woman's presence. "I work down the road a little ways more…"

The woman shot her a glance, her eyes wild and mysterious. "Oh, we're not going to work today, Donna."

Donna sat up in her seat? "What?" she spluttered. "Are you abducting me?" She began pounding on the windows, shouting. "I can't bloody believe it. Not today."

The other woman grabbed Donna's arm. "Whoa! Calm down there, no need to give yourself an aneurism."

"What's your name?" Donna demanded.

The woman shrugged. "Wow. I'm a little hurt you forgot considering you named me yourself."

Donna froze. "Wh-what?" she said breathlessly.

The woman flipped her long blond ponytail over her shoulder and turned her pretty face back towards Donna. "I'll jog your memory. My name's Jenny." She jerked her attention back to the road to narrowly avoid rear-ending a car. "And I'm taking you to see Dad."

Donna opened her eyes and gasped for air like she had come up from underwater.