Sam was sick of Grand Marais, Minnesota. They'd pulled up in the Impala two weeks prior to look into the disappearance of teen, Heather Finch. The locals were helpful at first, eager to answer whatever questions he and his brother asked but as the days turned into weeks they seemed to be put out about their interfering in town business.

The local sheriff was trying to close the case and chalk it up to another Grand Marais runaway. This comment made Sam dive into the town history, and that's when he noticed the pattern of disappearances, two people over the span of a three month period went missing in Grand Marais every ten years.

He had the pattern, he just didn't know what to make of this information. He knew something was taking them, he just didn't know what was taking them, yet.

Sitting in a small diner looking out at the lake Sam stared out at the water as his coffee went cold and his laptop went into rest mode, he was trying to fish through every bit of lore he knew that would match up with these disappearances.

Sam pulled his phone out of his pocket and brought up a contact, an old friend who he hasn't spoken to in a very long time. He knew better than to call so he sent a text with a location and a time to meet in two days time, hoping that the text would be received and that a meet could happen.

He let his eyes scan the room again, just then the waitress approached with a fresh pot of steaming coffee in hand and a fresh mug, clearly having noticed Sam's had gone cold. Dean dropped down into the chair across from him then, clearly a little hung over from his activities the night before. He ordered a greasy breakfast and asked the waitress to leave the pot, flashing her a wink and making her blush for good measure.

Two days later Sam was waiting on a bench outside the town library when someone sat beside him. He could help the smile that tugged the corner of his lips.

"It's good to see you, how've you been?" He asked.