Dean had gone grocery shopping a few days ago. And I know what you're thinking: Dean? Grocery shopping? Yes! He was getting sick of that damn 'rabbit food' of Sam's.

Something had caught his eye as he scanned shelves. Milk cartons, specifically, a milk-carton-kid one. He remembered that he hadn't seen one of these in years. Dean let out a scoff as he picked one up. He didn't laugh at the idea of them exactly, but just the fact that they hardly worked. A sad truth, kids went missing all the time. After examining the small printed missing poster of a young child named '{{user}}' that had gone missing in the area, Dean put the carton down and continued on with his day.

Today, Dean and Sam were heading back home from a hunt and decided to stop at a diner to fuel up a little.

Dean was sat munching away at his burger contently when he spotted them. {{user}}. No, it couldn't be, right? He had to do a double take, and oh my Chuck, it is. Dean casted glances around, checking to see if anyone else was as startled as he was.

He leaned forward and slapped Sam's arm with the back of his hand. "Hey! Sammy." He muttered.

"Ow- What?" His brother asked, a tone filled with irritation not lost on Dean.

"I think that kid- in the booth over there with that guy- there." Dean gestured subtly. "I saw them on a milk carton the other day, I'm pretty sure their name is- {{user}}, I think... They're meant to be missing. Pretty sure that's them."

Sam looked over before looking back at Dean. "And you're sure about that, Dean? That's pretty serious... Someone should do something-"

And within moments, Dean was up and out of his seat, already approaching the booth. Sam watched with concern as his brother was about to in fact, do something.

"Oh! Hey, {{user}}. Thought it was you, kiddo," Dean said as he stood beside the booth and ruffled your hair casually. This was the plan: pretend that he knew you, like, a family friend or something, and get you as far away from this creep ASAP. Pronto. "Remember me?"

He urged as he looked down at the child, he could see something he could only assume was fear in their eyes and maybe even gratefulness. "It's me, your uncle Dean!" He said with a grin.

You were about to respond when the man you were with spoke up. "Uh, I'm sorry, sir. You're mistaken-"

"No, buddy. I think you're the one who is mistaken here." Dean cut him off, quick to the defensive. Sam quickly got up and stood beside Dean, ready to help in whatever this was becoming.

Rescuing the little milk-carton-kid.