Under a blood red sky

He'd tried for a long time to get Cas to show. But when the normal screaming and talking to himself didn't work, Dean didn't get the feeling it was because the angel was giving him the cold shoulder.

He thought it was because Cas was gone, too.

Dean tried to call Harry, bout something in that file Phaedra'd given him. He knew about how phones tended to up and fry around the wizard, but he still tried. Eventually, on the 65th try or so, Phaedra answered.

And she told him that Harry... Harry was gone. What was worse? She said she couldn't *feel* him anywhere. Creepy as it was, Dean knew she could hear people's thoughts. And that not feeling Harry meant he was pretty much gone. He didn't ask the vampire about the range of her ability. He wanted to, but something in her voice sounded wrong. He could handle her sounding hard, or scary, or even outright nice at this point.

She sounded broken.

He hung up and called Sam, left a message, and restrained himself from calling his brother 65 times, just barely.

Then he called Bobby. Bobby had no answers, hadn't even heard of anything new going on in York. But he'd look into it.

He was headed back to the Phoenix when he left Jo a message, and with a dull thud in his stomach, Dean realized that he hadn't seen Ellen in a while, either. He knocked on her door, and when there was no answer, he picked the lock. Her stuff was all still there. The bed was unmade. She wasn't there. Looked like she'd been there, recently. He looked around the room, not touching anything, then closed and locked the door.

He couldn't handle this. Harry was gone, and Ellen? What the hell?

He made a second, half-hysterical call to Bobby before ducking into the motel office to talk to somebody about where the pretty blond who was staying in that room might've gone to.

God help the clerk.

"No!"

The TARDIS's computer did not say the correct lattitude and longitude. Not even close. What was this, the United States?

"No. No. NO, that's not what... London. I wanted London! Pick up Rose!"

The numbers on the screen continued to shift and change, and the Doctor furrowed his eyebrows. Just once he'd like the TARDIS to cooperate, just a little. (He didn't know it, not yet, but she always took him where he was needed. And he'd never considered that.) This was like that time not too long ago where he tried to bring Rose back to London 12 hours after her leaving, only to bring her back 12 months later. He touched his face where Jackie Tyler had slapped him, remembering.

"Alright, fine. Don't listen to me. Landing then, yes?"

He manipulated the levers and buttons, the familiar whine of the landing sequence beginning. Once the TARDIS was on the ground, the Doctor's nostrils flared. He scanned the screen in the command center for information on where the hell he'd ended up.

York, Pennsylvania. Something must've gotten bollocksed with the commands he'd given the TARDIS. He'd punched in York recently because of some suspicious activity, but he'd meant to pick up Rose and see if she wanted to come with. Stupid thing. He sighed, and shrugged. And then he stood up and went to the door.

"York, Pennsylvania. United States," he said to no one in particular. "Where did everyone go?"

He opened the door, and stepped out of the TARDIS, ready to find the answer. It had landed just outside the gate on Trout Run Road.