Bye Bye

02

The plane ride to Oregon seemed unbearably long.

Dean looked out the window, trying to imagine what his life was going to be like the next six months- or until they proved him innocent. If they could, that is.

"Justin that fucking bastard..." Dean grumbled under his breath as he put on his old headphones, trying to block out the memories of yesterday's events. The headphones had been a gift from his dad before he disappeared. They were attached to an old Walkman cassette player, inside was a mixtape that Dean's dad had made for his mother before they were married. It was cheesy, but Dean loved listening to it when he was upset. It had a calming effect to it.

"Please buckle your seat belts as we prepare for landing," a flight attendant with a pleasant voice said over the speakers.

The old man sitting next to Dean stared at the small tv screen in front of him that was playing Funny Face, an old Audrey Hepburn movie that Dean had never liked. He looked like he had no intention of buckling his seat belt.

"Uh, sir," Dean poked the old man in the shoulder, assuming he didn't hear. "We're landing... so you should probably put your seatbelt on, I don't know if you heard the lady say or not."

"I heard her damn well," the old man grumbled. He had a large beer belly and was balding, and was left with what looked like four thin strands of greasy hair plastered to the top of his skull. "When you get my age, you take every opportunity to end it all."

Dean stared at the old man as he buckled his own seatbelt in disbelief. "O-oh, is that so?"

The old man grumbled something under his breath, something about 'bothersome youth these days'.

Thankfully the flight attendant came around and somehow convinced him to put his seat belt on.

After the plane landed, the passengers began to file out into the airport.

"Escape," Dean mumbled under his breath. "I need to escape..." it was a dumb idea, but Dean had been planning it ever since he stepped foot on the plane.

The police officer that had escorted him to the airport had said that there would be another escort waiting at the airport in Oregon. If Dean could only avoid finding the escort and escape the airport, they wouldn't be able to take him to the correctional center.

Dean walked off the plane, into the lobby, and looked around for any suspicious people. So far so good. Now he just had to get his luggage.

Speaking of luggage, Dean notice a curvaceous woman and two large men standing next to the baggage claim. The woman was holding a large green suitcase that suspiciously looked like his. No- it was his.

Dean froze as one of the men pointed a meaty finger at him from across the room.

"Damnit!" Dean cursed and slung his backpack he had brought through carry on over his shoulder and began to haul ass for the exit.

But he didn't make it very far. He didn't make it anywhere in fact. Instead, there he was, running in place like an idiot while one of the escorts that Dean hadn't spotted held on the strap of his backpack.

"Whoa, there buddy," the man behind Dean laughed as Dean turned around and tried to pull the back pack away from him. "You must be Dean?"

"No, I think you're mistaken and I'm calling the police," Dean said as calmly as he could while he searched his coat pocket for his cellphone.

"Why, so you can turn yourself in?" The man laughed. He was significantly younger looking than the people who had had Dean's bag, he had more hair than both of the other guys put together. Not to mention more in shape. His arm muscles were clearly visible from underneath his white dress shirt.

"Listen, Dean," the man grabbed Dean's shirt collar , pulled him closer then knelt down a couple inches so they were face to face. "There's no getting out of this, so just come quietly and we won't have any problems, kay?"

Dean stared at his reflection in the man's black sunglasses and nodded, reluctantly. So much for an escape.