Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Supernatural, I am simply playing in the sandbox with the pale and shovel, Erik Kripke gave me.

Author Note: So I am finally updating as promised. I really hope you all enjoy this. I do apologize for not updating in what must seem like forever, school as kept me very, very busy. Then the holidays haven't given me much time to sit down, but today I got my first few hours to just relax. :)

Much thanks to my wonderful Beta!—Cindy123. All mistakes you see are mine and mine alone.

So if you read this chapter and enjoy or enjoy the story as a whole-review! Please, that would be awesome. Lol.


He blinked as his father looked where he was standing, obviously not seeing him. He blinked and slowly walked backwards as the four men in the shop talked, pointing in his direction, his father's face still full of confusion. He knew he needed to get out of here. He needed to figure out what the hell was happening. His head spun, his own family couldn't see him-that he knew for sure. But what did it mean when people, whom he didn't know, had never seen in his life, could see him and yet his own family couldn't?

He walked slowly away from his father and the men who were at the garage. He didn't understand what was happening. How could his own father not see him, but total strangers could? So many different thoughts and ideas swirled in his head. Maybe a curse was put on him? Then again they hadn't been hunting a witch or anything like that, although his family, especially his father had quite a few enemies.

Why him though? Why not send Dean or even his dad back in time? He suddenly had the thought that they had already lived in this time period and experienced things, he hadn't, meaning when he was just a baby. They had memories and shared moments that he could never hope to have. Sure he had lived in this time period, that was a given. He however remembered absolutely nothing. He had never been given the chance to meet his mother, nor any of his father's friends, or go to school. He never had the chance to know who the rest of his family was and what they had done. However both his father and brother had.

Sure Dean had been four when everything that they had, had been destroyed. He though got to see his family, see what his father was truly like before he had lost the one woman he had every truly loved. Dean had had the affection and loved he had always wanted. Even at seventeen he was still searching for his father's approval. It seemed to come naturally for Dean, no matter what Dean did-good or bad-there father never looked at him differently. However, for himself it didn't matter what he did or said he was never good enough.

He had a brief thought that maybe the reason his father's approval came so natural to Dean was because he was with their father and had already started growing up with the man before tragedy struck their home. Before everything their family had stood for and believed in was wiped away, like it had never been there to begin with. But tragedy or not a father should love his children equally, despite their flaws and fears. But unfortunately it wasn't the case for his family.

It also didn't help that he always felt he was to blame for his family being ripped apart. He knew he was different. It wasn't because he was unnaturally tall and lanky, or even the fact that he hated hunting and wore his heart on his sleeve. It was more than that, it felt as though something was in his blood. Of course he would never confess his fears to Dean, despite being his big brother and confident, this was something he wouldn't share with his brother because he refused to be laughed at or the exact opposite and watched over by Dean 24/7.

Dean. He suddenly gulped and was very thankful he had walked his way to a park. He hadn't realized he had, but he took the opportunity to sit down. He rested his head in his hands. He wondered if Dean was okay. Was he still alive and breathing? His father had never mentioned the condition of Dean, when he was back, well in the future. The fact that no news had been presented on his brother made him worry, especially since he had no idea how he could even get any news.

As he closed his eyes, breathing in deeply, his head pounded-well he at least noticed it now. The ache that was radiating from his temples, clear down into his eyes, made his stomach roll. Being in the "family business" he had his own fair share of extensive injuries, but he'd gladly take a broken wrist over a migraine. When he got a migraine he usually didn't leave bed for two days. Here though he didn't have that luxury so all he could do was try and find some pain killers and a good meal. His stomach growled at the thought of food and he realized he didn't know how long it had been since he'd eaten, but he figured a good day or so. He was suddenly thankful for the fact that people, no matter whom--excluding his family of course--were able to see him. It was also good that Dean had decided to hustle pool nearly every night they were on the hunt. Luckily he had split the earnings so he had about $300.00 in his wallet. He didn't know his way around the town, but he figured it couldn't be too difficult. The town wasn't exactly Chicago.

Ashe sat down at the table the waitress had led him too he sighed. His head still pounded and all he wanted to do was curl up on a nice soft couch and sleep, but he didn't even have a couch to sleep on. The smell of frying bacon and coffee filtered through his nose; making his mouth water. The town, despite its small appearance, had been a little bigger than he had anticipated. He had gotten lost twice before finally getting the courage up to ask for directions, something a Winchester just didn't do. A little old lady kindly had pointed him in the direction of one of the best diners and he thanked her quickly before entering.

As he sat there listening to the laughter of children and the pages being turned on different newspapers, he felt a little more relaxed. Even though he wanted quiet, due to his head, the loud environment reminded him of the diners his father had taken him too throughout the years and he didn't feel so alone. The waitress that led him to his seat was pretty enough, dark black hair, piercing blue eyes, and olive skin. Had Dean been around the waitress wouldn't have stood a chance.

"What can I get for ya?"

"I'll have a bacon, egg, and cheese bagel with a hash brown."

"What'll have to drink?"

"I'll have the strongest coffee available."

"That will be ready in fifteen minutes or so."

"Thank you"

She smiled almost amused before walking away. He slumped in his seat. He wondered how bad he smelled. He hadn't had a shower in a nearly two days. It made him feel disgusted to think of how bad he must look and smell. He hated not being able to take a shower every day, although while he was currently occupying his home, it didn't feel right to attempt to take a shower. He planned on getting a motel later on. That wayhe could still shower and sleep comfortably, which would maybe relieve his headache. Also it might allow him to have some peace and quiet and figure out what was going on.

"Here ya go."

A plate was placed in front of him and his mouth immediately began to water. The breakfast looked delicious.

"Thank you."

The pretty waitress nodded before once again walking off. He quickly took a bite of his food and couldn't help the little moan that escaped. It was like he had died and gone to heaven, because he certainly didn't realize just how hungry he was.

"The food is pretty good here isn't it?"

He looked up, making sure to wipe his mouth. Standing before him was a plump lady whose skin color was dark chocolate brown. Her bright, dark brown eyes were mischievous and slightly confused.

"Yes it is ma'am."

The woman sat in front of him, her eyes studying him. She smiled warmly, it lighting her whole face up.

"My goodness Sam you have such wonderful manners. This day n' age not many boys have em' anymore."

He froze at hearing his name slip from the woman's lips. He had no idea who she was or where she came from. However she seemed to know him, well at least his name.

"How do you know my name?"

She closed her eyes, grabbing one of his hands and holding it gently. A small smile graced her features before she opened her eyes, now only sadness and acceptance shown in them.

"I think we need to talk."

"I-I don't even know who you are."

"You can trust me, all I want to do is help."

"That's what they all say."

As he stood to get up and leave, the look on the woman's face stopped him. She looked anxious and hopeful, his radar wasn't going off-his instincts weren't telling him to run, so he stayed, warily watching the woman in front of him.

"Something sent you here, didn't it? It sent you here for a reason, a reason that you can't figure out or understand by yourself. I can help you, maybe not fully, but just a little."

He didn't feel fear from this woman, just complete trust. His instincts as a hunter told him to trust her, let her help him. God knows he needed someone right now.

"Okay, I'm Sam, but I guess you already knew that."

"Yes I did and I am Missouri Mosley."

Author Note: Alright there is the official Chapter 4. Hehe. I know -GASP- Missouri is know in the story. I really loved her character from the first time we saw her and thought this would be a perfect oppurtunity to include her. Hope you guys don't mind. I really am enjoying giving this story to you guys. I hope you all enjoy reading it and if you do—PLEASE REVIEW. I love getting feedback, especially from the people who read and enjoy my work—so just let me know. :).