A man dressed in dark clothes was getting into his car. He had just gotten out of the police station and saw agents taking in his rival, Dean Winchester. The idiot never questioned the thought of someone else behind him, also willing to steal the gorgeous pearl of the sea. In fact, he had everything planned out, from luring Dean into FBI hands to getting his own hands on the pearl. He, along with a few people on his team, planned to steal the pearl from Dean and his little friend. With the agents distracted, he made his move and stole the pearl, with no one noticing it. He was driving down the highway heading to his destination in a black Buick when his phone went off. He glanced over at his radio and saw that his boss was calling.

"Hello?" he said answering the phone through his blue tooth.

"Have you gotten it?" said his boss.

"Yes sir, I have it. It's in the trunk right now."

"Excellent. You know what to do."

"Don't worry sir, I won't fail you," he said, but continued. "But why do you want the pearl so bad?"

"Do you have any idea what that pearl is worth?" when he didn't answer, his boss groaned and responded. "That pearl is worth over a million dollars and whoever has the pearl can control anyone or anything that they please."

"But it was in the hands of that stupid Winchester kid."

"Roger," his boss said. "That Winchester kid is important, you idiot." Roger turned off the highway and started traveling into town. "Once the blood of bond is spilled, the pearl will do anything that we want it to do, even control people. Now I want you to make sure that you get the pearl back to headquarters and let nothing happen to it!"

"Yes, sir!" Roger exclaimed. The call ended, leaving Roger alone with his thoughts. The blood of bond being spilled was an important part of making sure the pearl would work. Roger shook his head and tried his best to focus on the road. Thoughts continued to appear in his head as he was traveling down the road. He remembered all too well about what happened that day. They sent him to attack the beach.

***

Silence engulfed Sam and Dean as they made their way outside. Dean didn't want to talk about his brother or the reasons behind it. Right now, his only goal was to meet up with his boss and talk about how someone stole the pearl right out from under the police's noses. Dean's stomach growled and rather than immediately driving down the highway to meet up with his boss, Dean turned into the parking lot of a Denny's and parked. At first, Sam said nothing but stared at the restaurant, then looked over at Dean with confusion.

"Okay, shouldn't we look for the pearl? Or at least figure out what and who would have stolen that?"

"We will, once we get something to eat."

"At a Denny's?"

"Sam," Dean said. "If we're going to work together, then we need to eat, now are you coming in or not?" Dean left the vehicle and started making his way inside. Behind him, Sam quickly got out of the car and followed Dean into the restaurant. "I swear, sometimes I think you're trying to keep me from escaping. I already told you we would work together as one, but apparently you're thinking of something else."

"Yes, I'm thinking that I won't let you out of my sight." Sam responded and walked into the restaurant. Denny's wasn't that busy with people coming in and out, while others were ordering their food. Sam and Dean sat in a booth as a server made her way over. She was a pretty redhead with green eyes. She held her notepad in her hand, ready to take their order.

"Welcome to Denny's. Can I take your order?" the young redhead said.

"Yes, I would like a stack of buttermilk pancakes with a side of bacon and coffee," Dean said. "Black."

"You got it." The woman said as she scratched it onto a notecard before turning to Sam. "And for you?"

"Nothing for me, thanks." Sam said. The woman nodded and told the boys that she would come back with Dean's food once they finished cooking it.

"Are you sure you don't want to eat anything?" Dean asked. "Don't you FBI agents ever eat?"

"What do you think we are? Robots?" Sam responded. "We eat. Right now I'm just not hungry. Now are you ever going to tell me anything about your brother?" Dean rolled his eyes. "You can't keep that hidden away forever."

"I don't remember," Dean said simply. "Do you hear me? I don't remember!"

"You must remember something," Sam pushed, Dean groaned and rubbed his eyes. While he could handle anything that Sam could ask him, the thought of talking about his little brother was killing him. "Sorry, I don't mean to pry, but take your time, whenever your ready to talk, I'll listen." Dean was about to say something when the server made her way over to them carrying a plate of pancakes and bacon, and coffee. She placed the coffee on the table, then placed the plate of food in front of Dean.

"Let me know if you need anything else." the server said. Dean thanked her as she nodded and walked away from the table to attend to another. At first, Dean didn't want to talk about the situation, but things kept prodding toward him. A sigh escaped from him as he made eye contact with Sam.

"The only thing I remember is running from the shooters and setting my little brother down in a stroller. The next thing I knew," Dean said, taking deep breaths. "Was someone hitting me in the head." he stuffed a piece of bacon into his mouth and drank his coffee.

"So whoever hit you in the head was probably after you for some unknown reason." Sam said, thinking more about the entire situation. The rest of breakfast had gone silent. Neither one of them wanted to say anything. Once Dean finished his food, he placed a ten-dollar bill on the table and got out of the booth. Sam followed him and the two walked out of the restaurant and back into the impala. Sam and Dean were on the road immediately. Dean's plan was to travel from Kansas to Missouri, since that was where he needed to go when he first got his hands on the pearl. The drive was going to take up most of the morning, so Dean played his radio, which played Back on the Road again.

"You could have played better music?" Sam said.

"House rules Sammy. Driver picks the music, Shotgun shuts his cakehole." Dean responded matter-of-factly.

"Never call me Sammy again."

"Just enjoy the ride!"