Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural.

This story is unbeta'ed, so all mistakes are my own.

Timeline: Pre-series. Sam is in Palo Alto. Dean is hunting.

Summary: Dean hasn't heard from Sam in over a month. Now he needs to find out what's going on.

Chapter 1

Dean was bone tired. He was bloodied all over; the good thing was that it wasn't his blood. All he wanted to do was get back to the hotel, take a hot shower, and sleep for the next three weeks.

Dean pulled into the hotel that he was staying in. Putting the Impala in park, Dean leaned back against the seat and let his head loll back. A huge sigh passed through Dean's lips. Slowly he opened the door and all but fell out of the car. Going to the back seat, he pulled out his duffel and headed for the room.

Fishing the key out of his pocket, Dean let himself into the room, dropping his bag on the floor. Stretching his arms over his head, he smirked at himself as to the fact that he felt older than he was. Looking over at the other bed in the room the smirk left his face. He missed his brother. Knowing his geeky brother, Sam would probably have his nose stuck in a book.

Pealing out of his bloodied clothes and dropping them on the floor, Dean made a straight line to the bathroom. Standing under the hot water, he relaxed his shoulders and let the stream wash over him while a bloody trail of his past hunt went down the drain.

After a while, Dean emerged from a steamy bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. All he wanted to do was go to sleep. But there was one thing he had to do before he closed his eyes.

Every week since Sam left for school, Dean would try and call to see how he was doing. He wanted to see if Sam needed anything. Every time he called, the answer would be the same. "I'm fine, Dean." "You don't have to worry so much." "I'm not a baby anymore. I can take care of myself." It was the end of another week, and usually, he would be so hard-pressed to call Sam, but this time he was adamant about it. For the last three weeks, Sam hasn't been answering his phone.

Dean dialed the number and put the phone to his ear. Ring after ring, there was no answer. Dean sighed as he dropped the phone beside him. Rationally, Dean knew that it was too late to do anything about it now. Besides the fact that he was tired, and it wouldn't do Sam any good if Dean crashed the car on the side of the road because he fell asleep behind the wheel.

Getting up and putting on his boxers and sweat pants, Dean got back into bed and vowed to himself that he would go and find Sam at first light.

_000_000_000_000

Sam was tired. He walked down the street. His duffel hanging off his shoulder felt like there were a ton of bricks, sagging off his shoulder. His pain was more than just his bag. He hadn't eaten in two days. Even though he was hungry, he was at least glad that he had a bottle that he could fill up with water.

He needed to find a place where he could sleep. Sleeping in the park was not something he wanted to try again. He didn't like what happened, and he barely got away with his sanity, let alone his things.

As tired as he was, a place in the gutter where he knew he would be alone would be preferable than just walking around.

A glimmer of light a little down the way made him smile. It was a 24-hour laundry mat. Even though he didn't have much money, he could at least he could be warm. The seats weren't that comfortable, but right now, he didn't care. Just the thought of getting off his feet was enough.

The heat bathed Sam's face when he opened the door. A small smile graced Sam's lips as he stepped in the laundry mat. It was chilly outside. It wasn't cold, but the way Sam felt the chill went down to his bones.

Sam was glad that the place wasn't that busy. Two women were separating their clothes on the large tables. Not wanting to bring too much attention to himself, he walked to the back of the mat and sat down. Sam was happy that the dryers were in the back of the place. He could lean against something warm. It wouldn't be comfortable, but he would be warm.

Sam put the duffel between the dryer and his head and leaned against it. Sleep claimed him fast. His tired bones, the lack of food, and the warmth of his surroundings, Sam was able to get a night's sleep.

_000_000_000_000

Dean woke up. The first thing he did was get dressed. He packed up the dirty, bloody clothes into a separate sack and put it in the trunk of the car. Coming back into the room, Dean pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed his brother again. Again, there was no answer; he would get the same message each time: 'This is Sam, leave a message.' Then 'The inbox is full, goodbye' and the line would go dead.

Checking that he grabbed everything out of the room, Dean walked out and headed towards the front office to turn in the key.

Dean got in the car and turned the engine. "Dammit, Sam, where are you?"

Dean drove out of the parking lot and headed for the two-day drive to Palo Alto.

_000_000_000_000

"Where the hell are you!"

Dean was standing at a gas pump leaning against the car.

"You don't have to yell, dad," Dean said, moving the phone away from his ear.

"Where are you?" John's voice could be heard from the phone.

"I'm just out of Stillwater, Oklahoma," Dean said, putting the phone back to his ear.

"Oklahoma? Why are you there? What's out there?"

"Nothing," Dean said, pulling the hose out of the tank and putting it back on the pump. "I'm heading towards California."

It didn't make sense to lie to his dad about where he was going. He had already told his dad when Sam left that he would keep in touch with his brother. Their dad forbade it, but Dean would not listen. It had been ingrained in Dean to look out for his brother, and just because he was in school on the other side of the continent didn't mean that it would stop.

"Why are you going there? Sam left us. You need to leave him alone."

"Yeah," Dean said, getting into the car. "That's not going to happen. I'll be gone for a few weeks. I'll talk to you after I get with Sam."

"Dean—"

"Bye Dad," Dean said, tossing the phone on the seat beside him and driving out of the gas station.

It was getting late. Dean knew he would have to stop for the night before he heads out again. He figured he would drive until he finished this tank of gas. It would get him closer to Texas before he had to stop. He pulled into a fast food place and got a small meal and coffee. Back on the highway.

_0000_0000_0000_000

Sam woke up to someone shaking his shoulder. He didn't mean to stay someplace where he would be noticed, but the warmth kept him asleep. When he opened his eyes, he sees a woman standing next to him.

She had a kind face. She was wearing sweats, and there was a bonnet covering her hair. She looked like she just got out of bed.

"Sweetie," the lady said. "Are you okay?"

Sam tried to get the sleep out of his eyes. It had been a long time since he slept so deeply. He didn't even have any dreams. Sitting up, letting the duffel fall on his leg, Sam rubbed his hands on his face.

"I'm sorry," Sam said, his voice was hoarse from his sleep.

"You've been here for a while," the lady said, sitting across from him. "I just wanted to know if you were okay."

"Yes ma'am," Sam said, sitting up straighter in the chair.

He was about to stand up when the lady put her hand out and touched his leg.

"I wasn't saying that, so you would leave."

Sam looked at her and sat back down.

"My name is Rebecka."

"Sam." Sam lowered his head and had the duffel on his lap with his arms wrapped around the bag.

"Please look at me, Sam," Rebecka pleaded.

Sam looked at her. She smiled at him.

"When was the last time you ate?" Rebecka asked.

Sam shrugged his shoulder but didn't answer.

"Okay," Rebecka said. "Don't move."

Rebecka stood up and walked to the out of the laundry mat. Sam watched her walk away. He knew he shouldn't stay, he should leave so that he wouldn't put a lot of attention on him, but it was the way she said 'don't move' that got him stuck in the chair.

Ten minutes later, Rebecka walked into the laundry mat, carrying a grocery bag on her arm. Sam couldn't help the smile on his face when he saw Rebecka walk over to him. She sat across from him again and held out the bag.

"I…I can't," Sam said, shaking his head. "I can't repay you. I don't have money."

"I don't remember saying anything about repaying," Rebecka softly chided. "You look like you've missed a few meals. It's not much, but it should at least help you out."

Sam looked in the bags, and tears burn his throat. It had been a long time since he had any food: junk or healthy. In the bag, there were carrot sticks, cookies, sports drinks, bottled water, chips, and some chocolates. It wasn't much, but it was something that would keep him eating for a few weeks. After growing up with Dean, his big brother taught him how to eat light to make the food last.

Sam opened his duffel and started packing the food in it being careful of the chips and cookies. He put the carrot sticks in the side of the side pocket for easy reach. He figured he'd eat that one first.

"Thank you so much," Sam said, smiling.

"You're very welcome," Rebecka said. "Now, listen to me, I know you're probably going through a hard time, and I understand. There is a shelter. It's west of here on the corner of Sumeet and Vine. It's about a few miles away. I know it probably seems like a long way but try to get there. Staying here is fine for a day, but you can't keep it up. The owner will call the police."

"I understand," Sam said. "Thank you again."

"Take care of yourself, Sam."

Rebecka got up, walked over to her bundle of clothes, and walked out of the laundry mat without looking back at Sam. Sam looked down at the now empty bag and smiled. He slid up his sleeve to look at the time — a quarter past seven. Sam got himself together and decided to start on his day.

It was a fair day. The sun was just rising. From the angel that Sam had his duffel, he was able to reach the pocket easily so that he could eat his carrots. There was a little spring in his step now that he was able to have something more than just water in his stomach.

Maybe today would be an okay day, Sam thought.

_000_000_000_000

Dean woke up and swung his legs out of bed. Rubbing his face, trying to get rid of the sleepiness he was feeling. Reaching for his phone that was sitting on the side table, Dean called Sam's number again. By this time, he figured Sam wouldn't answer. Now he just wanted to hear Sam's voice on the phone.

He was now in New Mexico. Dean pushed himself last night. He couldn't get his usual early start because he had to let the Impala cool down. He was tired, but he couldn't truly rest until he knew what the deal with Sam.

His imagination was running ramped. Different scenarios plagued his mind. Dean saw Sam hanging from a beam beaten by werewolves or laying in the gutter with blood draining from him from a vampire bite. A wendigo. A shapeshifter. A demon. Every horrible thing Dean could think of gave him a different horrific scenario. And after each one, he berated himself because he knew that Sam was smart. He would know how to handle himself in any confrontation. Dean taught him that much.

Laying back down on the bed, he decided he would give himself four more hours to rest, and then he would get back on the road. It wasn't far now.

TBC

A/N: Thank you for reading my story. Please take time to leave a review letting me know what you think of it.

Many hugs and kisses to you all!

Mandancie