Sam stood, eyes transfixed on the bursting streams of color blazing outside the 'windows.' Nothing in his life--despite all the craziness that he had seen--had prepared him for what he was looking at, or hearing, right now. His assumption that his kidnapping, and the kidnapping of the others in the room, was connected to demons or some game by a trickster was laid bare as utterly wrong while Harper and Starbuck's assertion that it had to be aliens was proven--at least somewhat so far--correct. So much for what he knew.

Finally, it hit him. They were on a ship in space. Everyone here had been asleep and woken up naked and covered in slime not too long ago, even him. Dean wasn't here and the last time he remembered seeing him was at the motel when Dean left to go to the bar. Dean had been spending what free time he had lately to enjoy what remained of his life, while Sam--in secret--tried to find a way of freeing Dean from his demonic deal.

"How long have we been here?" Sam asked, finally turning his eyes back to the hologram that Harper had called 'Rommie,' and completely oblivious to the comments of those around him. He had to know. Sam had to know how long he'd been gone and--hopefully--find out what had happened to his brother, and if it was too late to save him.