Dean awoke to the gentle, rumbling sound of a throaty purr. It took a few moments to gather his thoughts and concentrate through the pain. He grimaced as felt all the nerves firing in his body, sending out waves of pain. He breathed out a long, low moan as his body fought to gain a modacrim of control and lock down the pain into a manageable level. He ached all over….what the hell had happened? Slowly, his eyes fluttered open….his vision was blurry and his eyes dry. He opened and closed them a couple of times and finally his vision cleared. He found himself staring into the half-closed green eyes of a small, sleek black cat. He felt the purr as well as heard it, as the cat sat gently upon his chest, deftly kneading the flesh with its paws as though needing dough… Dean felt a small smile creep onto his face…Generally, he was a dog kinda guy, but the quiet, rumbling purr was calming, soothing balm to his pain-racked body and frayed nerves. He reached up and stroked the cat's soft, furry head, eliciting a louder purr from the cat, who was still kneading away on his chest. He saw a collar glinting silver against the cat's dark fur. He lifted it to look at it, and there, in script-style lettering, was the cat's name.

"Midnight, huh?" he said, his voice hoarse and low, barely above a whisper, as he turned the tag over…blank….

"Well, Midnight, who is you keeper, huh? Where is your owner?"

As if the cat understood,…it hopped down off his chest, onto the bed and then onto the hard, wooden floor and padded quietly toward the door. As it passed through the door, it paused and turned to look at him, as if to say, "you wanted to meet my owner, so are you coming?"…

Dean flipped back the covers, though, with his battered, aching muscles, it took him several tries…he had to rest for a second…his energy levels depleted by that one simple move…slowly, he steeled himself and willed his burning back and shoulder muscles to move forward….he caught mid-lift, his muscles shaking and threatening to give out, but with a the last little bit of energy he had, him shifted forward enough that momentum carried him forward…he sat panting,…his breath coming in gasping breaths, beads of sweat rolled slowly down his face from the exertion…..he rocked slightly as his stomach joined the mutiny against him and threatened to let the bile crawl it's way out of his dry, painfully rough throat…he closed his eyes and clenched his jaw, willing the feeling to pass….slowly, it did leave him,…rocking slightly as his body put down the revolt inside him…the feeling finally gone, he opened his eys and realized for the first time that he was in boxers only…….puzzling over this concerning fact, he also noticed all his wounds and bruises…he saw many large gashes, their tightly gathered edges bound to one another by stitch work…so, that was probably why he had no clothes….they needed to clean and tend his wounds…clothes would just get in the way….he also noticed that his bruises were already very apparent, changing color as they healed…by the looks of it, they were several days old…..where the hell did several days go?....He remembered who he was, his family, everything that had happened days, months, even years ago…so,…why couldn't he remember the last couple of days…

He pondered over that bewildering and concerning thought as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed,…his knees started to give, but he caught the wall with his palm just in time to brace himself from falling,…dizziness washed over him and he shuffled forward to lean his body against the wall, waiting for the wave of dizziness to pass….

He felt a soft warm feeling on his lower legs and heard the low rumbling purr again. He looked down to see Midnight, apparently concerned about him, circling his legs once or twice and then pausing to look up at him, as if to say…are you all right? He smiled a small smile and the cat seemed to understand he was ok, he just needed a second….Midnight turned and padded into the hall, stopping to patiently wait half-way down it's dark, somewhat narrow length.

Dean shuffled slowly down the hall, his palms braced against the wall on each side to study himself…It was slow going, as each time he moved, he jarred a injury or a wave of dizziness and nausea overtook him and he had to stop until it passed…

Something so simple as walking down a hall was taking him a seemingly endless amount of time…as he passed the middle of the hall, Midnight circled his legs, being careful not to trip him, and moved up to the end of the hall to wait for him to catch up in his ungainly, coltish gait….he finally reached the end and was ready to collapse from sheer exhaustion…when he saw that there was a table and chair immediately in front of him, it what was apparently the kitchen…he drew out a chair and collapsed. He placed his hands palms down on the table and to brace himself from falling over but the sheer weight of his torso was causing them to shake and threaten to give, so he slid his arms criss-crossing on the table and lay his head down upon them to rest for a moment…his eyes fluttered closed and the physical toll on his system caused him to fall back unconscious…

Sometime later, his eyes flashed open and he lifted his head, his eyes fluttering open and closed as he tried to get his bearings…he heard the rumbling purr and felt Midnight by his feet, an d he looked down at the cat, who looked right back at him as if to say…hey, you're the one who just had to get up…..

He smiled wearily at the cat….saying "Yeah, I know….never been the patient sort, though…." He said reaching to briefly scratch the cat behind the ears…then he braced his palms against the table and lifted himself up again…Midnight ran ahead through an archway and then passed to sit at the entrance of another short hall….Dean lumbered along, bracing himself against the wall and doors until he caught up…he stumbled down the hall, Midnight leading the way, turning back occasionally to see if he was coming…. They enter a living room area, the front door off on the side….he saw shelf after shelf lined with books and occult objects lining the walls, stacked and packed to the ceiling…as he slowly turned his head to take in the room, he realized he knew this place….he rotated slowly to the far corner and there, he saw a raven-haired woman leaning diligently over a small table,…her face blocked from view, by her mane of dark hair…her could see the gentle slope of her graceful back, tightly contained in a form-hugging tank top…his eyes trailed down her back to where her top ended and to the small gap there between her top and jeans….He could clearly see her tattoo peeking out…Jesse Forever….yeah, right, never get a tattoo of someone's name on you, it just dooms the relationship…his eyebrow raised and a smirk played across his face…..he was about to speak, but she beat him to it…

"Well, Dean,…glad to see your feeling like your old self….and you're lucky I don't mind you checking out my ass,…some girls might take offense, though….why don't you ramble on over here and have seat….." Pamela said, not even looking up from her task at hand…

Dean shook his head,….same old brassy, tough as nails Pamela….he shuffled over to the opposite side of the table to sit down…he looked at her face, guilt-stricken as he expected to see the burned-out, hollow eyes that he had caused….but as she looked up at him for a moment,…he saw they were not burned out, but that she had her eyes back…..he was still reeling from the shock when she spoke again…

"Hi there, sexy,…I know what your thinking,…Castiel came to me…he restored my sight….and warned me to heed a warning when it's obviously for my own protection….Angels….cocky bastards aren't they…." She said as she smiled her seductively confident smile and raised her eyebrow back at him…..

"Pamela….I….I am so sorry you went through that….you have no idea how bad I felt…."he wanted to say more, but she cut him off….

"Save it sugar,…I knew what I was doing had risks….I am fine,…really,….and you need to stop blaming yourself,…you aren't Superman…you can't save the world…and you can't hold onto things that you could not have changed….It was not your fault, Dean…." She said…

Her words hit him like a ton of bricks,…his eyes welled up and his throat became tight and he turned to look away for a moment, tears glistening wet in his eyes, and he looked down at his hands and closed his eyes as the tears cascaded from his eyes in hot, stinging rivers….he gripped his head in his hands,…her forgiveness and more then he could bear….he heard her chair scrape the floor as she pushed it back…he heard it groan as her weight lifted off it and he heard her feet quietly shuffle across the floor as she came and stood beside him, taking his head and pulling him close to her chest….he lost himself in the comfort of her soft shape,…her darkly husky perfume permeating his nose,…he drifted,…lost in pain for he didn't know how long,…all the while, she stroked his bristly dark blonde hair and rocked him gently against her body….he started to regain control of himself, and she must have felt him doing so, because she gently pulled away and walked back around to sit down at the table, opposite of him….she crossed her fingers and lay her hands on the table, patiently waiting until he was ready to talk.

He swiped his rough hand across his face and sniffed back the liquid that was trying to escape from his nose….he took a deep breathe and looked up at her…her serene smile greeted him as she looked back. His eyes, still a little wet, were all that betrayed his moment of weakness…he smiled a sad smile and had to look away for a moment again….as he turned back, his sarcastic humor kicked in, his first choice to mask his internal turmoil…his smile turned a bit sardonic and widened….

"You're right…I'm not Superman……" he said, his grinned huge on his features, his dimples deep and his eyes gleaming with mischief…" I'm Batman…."

Pamela grinned and shook her head…."You are one cheeky bastard, you know that…" She picked up where she left off, she shuffled her tarot cards,…preparing to lay down a new spread… she looked up at him and said…."I've been trying to see what's been going on for you are morning,…you, Bobby, Sam,…it seems as if something big is happening, but the spirit world is being decidedly closed-lip about what…which is a bit worrying, frankly….something big is going down…and I am afraid to say that I am unable to provide any sort of guidance about it…."

She shook her head and lay out a new spread,…

Dean looked on, not wanting to interrupt her,…she must have sensed what he was gonna ask, because she lifted her head and looked at him, speaking soothingly to his worried mind…"Don't worry, Sam is fine…he's with Bobby…they went to get some supplies and they will be back late this evening…Sam wanted to stay, but Bobby needed him so, he reluctantly left your side…he hasn't slept in 4 days,…he refused to sleep while you were there, in pain…for the first couple of days, he wouldn't even eat…until Bobby threatened to tie him down as shove it down his throat….smart boy that he is,…he knew Bobby was serious, so he ate….Dean, hon,….what's the last thing you remember….?"

Dean thought back…he remembered the hunt in Missouri, he remembered going to celebrate at a local dive…he remember Sam's weary form shuffling off to go to bed, while he stayed to have a few more drinks….after that there was nothing….and he told Pamela so….

She looked at him….her brows knitted with concern,…

"Honey, that was 8 days ago….."

Dean's eyes went wide with shock and confusion…."I lost 8 days?....." he was desperately trying to make sense of what he was being told……

Pamela watched him with even more concern…."Well, you've been here a little over 4 days,…you see, when you didn't return to the hotel room that night, Sam figured you'd probably just hooked up with a girl,…the next morning, when he didn't see you in the hotel and you weren't sleeping it off in the car, he started to get worried…..he asked around….the bartender remembered you heading of with a dark-haired woman around 1 am…then nobody saw you after that…he tried and tried to call you,…but your voice mail was full….he called Bobby who then called me….we went up to join the search for you….close to the end of the third day,…I got a tip from the spirit world…they told me where to find you….by the time we got to the building,…you were unconscious and barely holding on….we drove you to the hospital, and they did what they could for you…they didn't seem to think that you would make it….Sam didn't want you to die in a hospital,…he said he knew that wasn't what you'd want, so, since my place was closer, we brought you here…Castiel appeared….he apologized to me, restored my sight,…then he insisted on being alone with you,…about an hour later, he emerged from the room…he looked terrible…horribly pale,…like he was going to fall over…and then he just disappeared in flutter of wings without saying anything…..don't rightly know what he did to you, but whatever it was, he paid a heavy toll for it…and you, well, you started to recover….your body started to heal, slowly, but surely…Sam was so wrecked when he thought he'd lost you,…but when Castiel did what ever he did, Sam got down on his knees and prayed, thanking God and Castiel and he stayed there,…for hours, before he finally swung himself up into a chair…unwilling to leave your side……that's what we know….maybe, if you're up to it, I can hypnotize you and we can figure out what happened during the missing time…." Pamela broke off, allowing what she said to sink in…

"I don't know,…I can't remember….I don't know if I want to remember…no…no…I have to know…what if they got information out of me,…or I did something…..something terrible…" his voice caught in his throat as he remembered his terrible deeds while in Hell….what if he'd done…that…again…to a living…breathing person…his throat clenched and he felt like he was going to vomit, his disgust for himself, for the horrible things he had done…almost made him lose control again…he gripped his arms around himself, rocking back and forth,…tears burning down his cheeks again…..he had to know….he had to know what monstrous things he may have done….he looked up at Pamela's soft, concerned eyes…."Ok….let's do it…I need to know….what happened…"

Pamela looked on as Dean, his broken soul struggling to come to terms with everything he had been through,…she knew some of what had happened in Hell…knew what they had made him do…she couldn't tell him,…she knew how it had torn him, shattered him…that he could never forgive himself…and she knew she could never convince him it wasn't his fault…

She had him lay on her coach, concentrating on centering herself, she walked herself through her methods of connecting….She opened her eyes, Dean was patiently watching her, a small smile on his lips…she smiled back…."Ok,…are you sure?....Are you sure you want to do this….?" Pamela asked…

"I'm sure…." Dean said, the apprehension giving his voice a slight edge….