The impala screeched to a halt as they arrived on the scene. Police tape was stretched all around the bar. There had been several disappearances in the past couple of days, and this was where they were last seen. Nobody had been found yet... until that day. Sam and Dean Winchester ducked under the yellow tape, showing the cops their fake FBI badges.

"So, what happened?" Dean asked a nearby officer.

"See for yourself, " the man answered, gesturing to the stretcher with a bloody sheet covering a body.

They pulled the sheet away, almost throwing up upon seeing the gruesome sight.

"I think I'm gonna be sick," Dean managed to say despite trying his best not to throw up.

Blood was everywhere. There was hardly an inch of skin that wasn't either cut or bruised. The eyes were wide open, clearly showing that he had gone insane in his final moments.

"Come on, Dean. Let's get back to the bunker before you puke all over the crime scene," Sam laughed. "We can always come back later, after the body's gone."

They went back several hours later. Dean picked the lock on the bar door and they went inside. The place looked normal. There were no signs of a struggle. Not really what you'd expect of a crime scene. Sam inspected the kitchen while Dean checked out the bar.

"Hey, Sammy! They have the good stuff here. Do you think anyone would mind if I had a few drinks?"

"Dean, don't. That could be what killed that guy."

"Yes, because beer can cause... that. It's too late anyway. I already drank some."

"You what?" Sam exclaimed.

"If this is going to kill me, I should at least have a few more. You know... to make it go faster," Dean joked, already on his second beer.

"Dean, this is serious. You could die!"

Dean chuckled. "Like that's ever lasted for long."

Sam rolled his eyes and turned his head towards the window. When he looked back, his brother was gone.

"Dean?" He shouted, frantically shifting his head from side to side, searching for his older brother. "Dean?"

He searched the entire bar before finally calling Dean on his phone. His brother answered quickly.

"Sammy?" Dean asked.

"Dean, where are you? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Maybe not for long, though."

Sam heard shouting and gunshots on the other line. "Dean? Dean? Are you okay?"

A familiar female voice answered a few minutes later. "I don't know who this is, or what this strange device is, but your friend has been hurt pretty bad. We're taking him back to our ship so Simon can get him fixed up."

"What happened  to my brother?" Sam demanded.

"He was attacked by some reavers. We managed to hold them off, but he's still bleeding pretty bad," she answered, dropping the phone.

"Hello? Are you still there?" 

He hung up after getting no reply. He put a hand to his forehead, breathing heavily. It took several minutes for him to calm down. At that point, he realized that it must have been the beer that was to blame for his brother's disappearance. He poured himself a drink.

"Well, here goes nothing," he thought, drinking the potentially dangerous liquid. He waited impatiently for several minutes before thinking that it hadn't worked after all.

 He blinked. When he opened his eyes, the bar was gone. It had been replaced by a large, desert-like area. He looked around, scanning the area for his brother. He called out to him, but got no answer. Sam called Dean's phone again, only to find it buried in the sand a few feet away. 

He decided to walk North. It had only been a few minutes, how far could Dean have gotten?