The Impala was parked outside of Sunnyside Diner. "Hey, don't forget the extra onions this time?" Dean told Sam, handing him some money. "Dude, Kinley and I are the ones who 're gonna have to ride with your extra onions," Sam complained. Dean grinned at him and Sam sighed. "Pie!" Mack piped up excitedly from the back, startling both brothers who thought she had been asleep. "You heard the lady, see if they've got pie," Dean told Sam. Sam just glared, climbing out and slamming the door shut. "Bring us some pie!" Dean yelled out the window at his retreating form. He settled into his seat, mumbling to himself. "Love me some pie. Right, bug?"

"Wuv pie," she echoed. He chuckled, turning around in his seat to check on her. "Why aren't you asleep, young lady?" Mack stared back at him with her big, innocent eyes. "Want pie," she replied, like it should have been obvious. "It's past your bedtime, though," he tried to reason with her. "I no go bedtime. Want pie." Just then, the radio became staticky, and Dean turned back around in his seat to mess with it. However, instead of fixing itself, it just turned off completely. Furrowing his brow, he glanced up at the diner where he'd previously been able to see Sam talking to the waiter, finding the entire diner was empty.

"One sec, bug," he told her. He hurried out of the car, entering the diner. Country music was playing over the speakers, and as he looked around, he noticed a customer dead, face down in a puddle of blood. Drawing his gun, he paced forward cautiously, looking around. "Sam?" he called out. Behind the counter, he found that the employees were also dead, their throats slit. He opened the backdoor, looking around outside. "Sam?!" he yelled. When he turned back, he spotted familiar yellow dust by the door. "Sulfur."

Dean raced back out the front door, heading back to the car. "Daddy, where Unca Sammy?" Mack asked curiously. "I'm figuring that out, sweetheart," he told her. Heart pounding in his chest, he took out his phone and called Ash and asked him to let him know if there was any unusual demon activity on the scanner. Then he called Bobby and asked him to meet up with him with any demonic activity he'd heard of.


"That's it. All the demonic signs and omens over the past month," Bobby said. He and Dean were parked on the side of the road, poring over a map that was resting on the hood of the Impala. Mack was still sleeping soundly in the back seat. "Are you joking? There's nothing here," Dean said. "Exactly." Dean gaped at Bobby incredulously. "Well, come on, there's gotta be something. What about the, the normal, low-level stuff? You know, exorcisms, that kind of thing?"

"That's what I'm telling you: there's nothing. It's completely quiet."

Dean was trying to keep himself under control. It was the third time that year that Sam had gone missing, and it had been fairly easy to track him down the first two times. The fact that this time, there was nothing, despite the fact that there had been sulfur at the diner Sam had vanished from put him on edge. It kind of reminded him of the missing girl Sam was with the first time he vanished, Ava. "Well, how are we supposed to look for Sam? Close our eyes and point?" he snapped.

Before Bobby could respond, Dean's phone rang. "Ash, what do you got?" he asked, tone more frustrated than was strictly decent. "Okay, listen, it's a big negatory on Sam-" Ash began. "Oh, come on, man! You gotta give us something! We're looking at a three thousand-mile haystack here."

"Listen, Dean, I did find something."

"Well, what?" Dean demanded desperately. "I can't talk over this line, Dean," Ash told him. "Come on, I don't have time for this!" he shouted angrily. "Make time, okay? Because this-" he cut off briefly, sounding like he was talking to a customer for a moment before continuing. "Not only does this almost definitely help you find your brother, this is, ah, it's huge. So get here. Now." He hung up before Dean could formulate a response. "I guess we're going to the Roadhouse," Dean told Bobby. "Come on."

They got in their respective cars, Bobby following behind Dean to the Roadhouse. Mack woke up about an hour into the drive. "Daddy?" she asked sleepily, rubbing her eyes. "Morning, bug," he greeted her, forcing his voice to remain gentle. "You find Unca Sammy?"

"Not yet, sweetheart. Daddy and Grandpa Bobby are working on it," he said. "Where we going?"

"The Roadhouse."

"We see Miss E-wen?"

"Yeah, Mack. You're gonna see Miss Ellen while Daddy talks with Ash, okay?" She nodded, playing happily with one of Skittles' ears. "Otay." She turned her head, staring out the window contentedly as they drove.


The Roadhouse had burned down. It was literally a pile of ash and rubble; not a single part of the building was still standing. "Miss E-wen?" Mack whimpered. Dean didn't respond, getting out of the car to meet Bobby at the remains. "Oh my God," Bobby breathed. "You see Ellen?" Dean asked. "No. No Ash, either." Dean bent down as they explored the piles of rubble, spotting Ash's watch. When he pulled on it, he found it was still attached to Ash's very burnt corpse. "Oh, Ash, damnit!"

"This is…" Bobby trailed off, looking around. "What the hell did Ash know?" Dean asked, still crouched next to his corpse. "We've got no way of knowing where Ellen is. Or if she's even alive. We've got no clue what Ash was trying to tell us. Now, how the hell are we supposed to find Sam?" He straightened up, wiping the soot off his hands onto his jeans. "We'll find him," Bobby assured him. Just then, Dean clutched at his head painfully. "Dean?" Dean didn't respond, seeing a flash of an old bell with an engraving of a tree on it, and then it stopped.

"What was that?" Bobby asked. "I don't know. A headache?" Dean shrugged, confused. "You get headaches like that a lot?" Dean shook his head. "No. Must be the stress," he chuckled. "I could've sworn I saw something." Bobby frowned. "What do you mean? Like a vision? Like what Sam gets?"

"What? No!"

"I'm just saying."

"Come on, I'm not some psychic." As soon as Dean finished talking, the headache returned. He doubled over, seeing an image of Sam. "Dean? Dean!" Bobby cried, grabbing onto his shoulder. "Are you with me?" Dean nodded, straightening up and using the Impala for support. "Yeah, I think so. I saw Sam. I saw him, Bobby."

"It was a vision."

"Yeah. I don't know how, but yeah. Whew. That was about as fun as getting kicked in the jewels," Dean said, trying to catch his breath. "What else did you see?" Bobby questioned him. "Uh… there was a bell," he said, thinking. "What kind of bell?" Dean shrugged. "Like a big bell with some kind of engraving on it, I don't know." Bobby persisted, "Engraving?" Dean nodded. "Yeah."

"Was it a tree? Like an oak tree?" Dean nodded again in confirmation. "Yeah, exactly."

"I know where Sam is."


In Cold Oak, South Dakota, Sam and what remained of the group of other psychics that the Yellow Eyed Demon created were trying to track down Ava, who'd gone missing in the middle of the night. They split up, Jake going to check out the barn while Sam went to check the houses. Andy had stayed behind at the basecamp they'd set up in one of the abandoned buildings. As Sam was walking outside, he suddenly heard Ava screaming back at the basecamp. He hurried inside, seeing her crying and pointing at Andy's dead body.

"Sam! I just found him like this!" she cried. "What happened?" Sam demanded. "I don't know!" Sam stared from her to Andy's body and back. "How'd that thing get in? Where were you?" Ava continued sobbing as she explained. "I just went to get some water from the well. I was only gone, maybe, like, two minutes!" Sam gave her a disapproving look. "You shouldn't have gone outside. Ava, we have to stay in here-" he cut himself off, spotting a break in the salt line along the window. "Who did that?" he asked, pointing. "I don't know, maybe Andy-" Ava blubbered.

"Andy wouldn't do that," Sam cut her off. "Ava, that line wasn't broken when I left. Ava." She jumped, staring at him with wide, tear-filled eyes. "What? You don't think that I-" she said, gesturing to herself incredulously. "I'll tell you what I think: five months. You're the only one with all that time you can't account for. And that headache you got? Right when the demon got Lilly."

"What are you trying to say?"

"What happened to you?"

"Nothing!" Sam just stared her down for a minute, and she dropped the act, laughing a little. "Had you going though, didn't I?" she smiled, wiping her eyes. "Yeah. I've been here a long time. And not alone, either. People just keep showing up. Children, like us. Batches of three or four at a time."

"You killed them? All of them?" Sam asked. "I'm the undefeated heavyweight champ," she replied, smile growing. "Oh, my God," he breathed. "Don't think God has much to do with this, Sam," she taunted. "How could you?" he demanded. "I had no choice. It's me or them. After a while, it's easy. It was even kind of fun. I just stopped fighting it."

"Fighting what?"

"Who we are, Sam," she answered, taking a step toward him. "If you'd just quit your hand-wringing and open yourself up, you have no idea what you can do. The learning curve is so fast, it's crazy, the switches just flip in your brain." She laughed. "I can't believe I started out just having dreams. Do you know what I can do now?"

"Control demons."

"Ah," she nodded. "You're quick on the draw." She put her hands to her head. "Yeah, I'm sorry, Sam. But, it's over." The cloud of smoke that was the demon appeared at the window. However, before it could enter the room, Jake came up behind Ava and twisted her neck, killing her instantly. The demonic smoke left the window and disappeared. He and Sam exited the building, heading down the front steps. "I think we can make it out of here now," Sam said.

"But the Acheri demon…" Jake reminded him. "No, no, no. Ava was summoning it, controlling it. It shouldn't come back now that she's dead. We gotta go." He took a few steps down the dirt road, but Jake didn't follow. "Not 'we', Sam," he said, stopping Sam in his tracks. "Only one of us is getting out of here. I, I'm sorry." Sam furrowed his brow in confusion. "What?"

"I had a vision," Jake admitted. "That yellow-eyed demon or whatever it was, he talked to me. He told me how it is." Sam took a step back toward him."No, Jake, listen. You can't listen to him." Jake swallowed, shaking his head. "S-Sam, he's not letting us go. Only one. Now, if we don't play along, he'll kill us both. Now, I-I like you, man. I do. But do the math. What good's it do for both of us to die? Now, I can get out of here. I get close to the demon, I can kill the bastard."

"You come with me, we can kill him together," Sam begged. "How do I know you won't turn on me?" Jake challenged. "I won't," Sam answered. "I don't know that."

"Okay, look."

Sam took out his knife, showing it to Jake before setting it down on the ground. "Just come with me, Jake. Don't do this. Don't play into what it wants." After a pause, Jake placed his weapon on the ground as well, Sam looking relieved. "Okay," Sam nodded. Suddenly, Jake punched him across the face. Sam was sent flying across the field and crashed to the ground thanks to Jake's super-strength. Jake approached him, kicking down the fence and leaning over him.

As Jake was about to kick Sam, he kicked out himself, the two exchanging blows with Sam on the ground. He finally managed to leverage himself up, each of them landing multiple blows. When Jake managed to hit Sam's arm, it broke the bones and he was sent to the ground again. He got up quickly, though the pain was written all over his face. Jake approached, taking another swing, which Sam ducked. The punch went through a wooden railing, temporarily holding Jake. Sam kneed him several times, then kicked him down.

As Jake laid there, winded, Sam picked up the iron bar Jake had been using as a weapon. He used it to knock him out, then lifted the bar again, as if to strike him while he was unconscious. However, he hesitated, ending up dropping the bar back on the ground instead. "Sam!" a familiar shout sounded in the distance. Sam turned, staggering from exhaustion and holding his broken arm to his chest. Dean and Bobby were rushing toward him with Mack. "Dean! Kinley!" Sam smiled in relief and happiness.

Behind him, Jake suddenly woke up, grabbing the knife Sam had left on the ground. "Sam, look out!" Dean cried, spotting Jake and picking up his pace. His warning came too late; Jake had already stabbed the knife into Sam's back. Dean put Mack down, sprinting even faster toward his brother and Jake. "Nooo!" Jake twisted the knife, creating a massive wound, and then took off running. Bobby hurried after him as Dean slid on the ground in front of Sam. He grabbed at his brother's clothing, trying to keep him conscious.

"No, Sam!" Sam collapsed forward against Dean's shoulder. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, Sam. Sam! Hey! Hey, hey. Come here. Let me look at you." He placed his hand against the wound on Sam's back, covering his entire palm in blood. "Unca Sammy?" Mack whimpered, staring at the two men on their knees. Dean glanced at her briefly before pulling Sam up. "Hey, look at me. It's not even that bad. It's not even that bad, alright? Sammy? Sam!" Sam's head wobbled from the effort of staying up. "Hey, listen to me. We're gonna patch you up, okay? You'll be good as new. Huh? I'm gonna take care of you. I've got you. That's my job, right? Watch out for my pain-in-the-ass little brother?"

Dean touched Sam's face. "Sam? Sam! Sam! Sammy!" Sam's eyes slid shut, his entire body slumping forward. "No. No, no, no, no, no, no. Oh, God. Oh, God." Tears streamed down Dean's face as Sam died in his arms. "SAM!"