A/N: New story. A crossover, actually. I was inspired by a small plot bunny that attacked me and hogtied me up when I was laying down to sleep. I need to write this out if I'm ever going to get at least a little bit of sleep. Anyway, this is a "what if?" situation that wouldn't leave me be.
Summary: What if Elena woke up in a motel room, two unfamiliar men watching over her? Sam and Dean find a passed out Elena Gilbert in the middle of the road, her cellphone and a wallet the only possessions on her person. All she remembers is her name and age, nothing about her life before the motel room or why a there was a wound on her neck. She soon takes on the life of a hunter with Sam and Dean. She is sure that she would never remember what happened to her, that is, until an interesting case falls into their laps.
Adventures In Amnesia.
Supernatural/The Vampire Diaries Crossover.
Chapter One.
Something vibrates.
She wonders sleepily if she imagined it, a tired haze still clouding her brain and judgement. But, it goes off again. It's against her right thigh, her brain becoming very aware of that leg now. Slowly she starts to feel the aches and pains, a light throbbing in her ribs and the starting of a headache situating against her skull.
It vibrates again, and a jumbled thought pops into her head about a phone. Her phone is going off.
She has a phone?
Her eyes flutter open, her brown eyes seeming black in the darkness of the room. She's somewhere on a bed under the covers, the fabric making her bare arms itch. She glances down slightly, reaching a hand down the side of her jeans towards her right pocket. She feels something square and solid in there. She pulls it out and clicks a button on the phone, the device lighting up.
Her eyes shut instantly, the light nearly blinding her as she winces. She forces her eyes open, looking at the screen on the phone.
There's a picture of herself and a boy with brown hair and green eyes. She's beaming at the camera, the boy having his arm around her shoulders and smiling at the camera. She frowns, wondering where she had seen him before. She doesn't remember that picture being taken or even meeting the boy in that picture. She sees a few messages on her phone. Five missed calls and three text messages.
Two from someone named Damon, and one from someone named Jeremy. The messages ask pretty much the same thing, asking her where she was.
She wishes she had an answer for them. She looks at the numbers on her phone, reading that it was about six in the morning. She sat up, the bed creaking under her, her eyes sweeping across the room. There was a small bathroom to the right of the room, a couch and another bed.
The couch and bed were occupied, her eyes picking up on the forms of a figure sprawled across the couch and the blankets were thrown over someone in the bed across from her. She could see a faint light filtering through the closed curtains of the window, her hands shaking as she pulled the blanket off of her quickly as she stood up.
She yelled out in pain as a sharp jab shot up her leg, and settled down around her ankle. It was loud enough that it made the person in the bed beside her jump up, flicking on the light. The first thing she saw was his height. He had to be at least a foot taller than her, a grey muscle shirt and shorts the only thing he was wearing.
And then there was the knife that was in his right hand, looking like he was ready to strike.
Jumping back on her bed, her hands shaking, she stared up at him, terrified. The man seemed to relax slightly, lowering the knife as he raised his hands in an non-threatening gesture.
"I'm not going to hurt you," he said, his voice still rough from sleep. He lowered the knife onto the bed, raising his hands so that she could see that he was unarmed. "See?"
She just stared at him, her ankle throbbing, arms shaking, and her head spinning.
"Where...?" the sound of her own voice seemed unfamiliar to her, also. "Where am I?" she demanded, "who are you?"
"You're safe," he stated, moving around so that he sat on his bed facing her. "You're in a motel room just outside of Georgia, and I'm Sam."
She studied Sam as she swallowed thickly, "how did I get...inside a motel room outside of Georgia?"
"Well, Dean," Sam turned, gesturing to the now moving figure that was on the couch, "and I found you passed out in the middle of the highway. We were hoping you had any idea of how you got there."
She glances towards Dean, who is muttering something as she stands and walks towards them. He looks rough from sleep, his green eyes reminding her of the boy in her phone. He's shorter than Sam, but still a bit taller than her. He frowns down at her, taking a quick glance at Sam as he stands in the light from the lap on the night table between her and Sam's beds.
"I don't." she said, scratching her head as she picked her brain for information, "my name is Elena Gilbert, I'm seventeen...and that's it."
"Gilbert?" Dean speaks up for the first time, studying her, "Gilbert..." he quickly stands and walks off into the darkness for a few moments before he returns with a journal in his hands. He's flicking through the pages of the small journal, a few loose papers sticking out.
Elena studies him for a few moments before she looks over at Sam, who gives her a small smile.
"Grayson Gilbert," Dean muttered, his finger tapping something on the page that he had open, "he's a hunter; or was a hunter. It says that he's dead."
"I don't know a Grayson." Elena commented, pulling out her phone and started to surf through her contacts.
Damon Salvatore, Stefan Salvatore, Bonnie Bennett, Caroline Forbes, Jeremy Gilbert...
All names she couldn't place faces to. She closed her phone, looking at the black screen before she looked up at the two men in front of her. She shook her head, Elena placing a hand on her leg.
"I don't know anything," she muttered, "just my name, and English and whatnot."
Dean and Sam share a look, the two of them having some sort of silent communication that Elena couldn't pick up on. Her hand went to her neck, feeling a bandage there.
"What happened to my neck?" Elena questioned, feeling the bandage.
"When we found you on the road, you had a wound on your neck." Sam explained, Elena staring at him. She sighed, placing her head in her hands. Her brown hair falling down in front of her face.
Why couldn't she remember anything?
She glanced up, sitting straight as the muscles in her back unlocked themselves with a few cracks. She placed her hands down on the bed beside her, glancing at Sam and Dean.
"So, what do I do now?"
"Hell if I know," Dean said, "but you won't be running any races with that ankle."
"What's wrong with my ankle?" Elena questioned, lifting her leg up. Her shoes had been removed, but her good foot had a sock on it while the one she was holding up didn't. There was a purple swelling around the base of her ankle, a jab of pain making her twitch when she tried to turn it.
"It didn't feel like a break," Sam said, "it's most likely a sprain."
"I can't stay here, though," Elena argued, "I don't know you guys at all."
"Well, who else do you know?" Dean asked, Elena staring at him when she couldn't come up with an answer.
"Look," Sam said, speaking up, "just stay off that ankle for a week or so, or until you can at least walk again, then you can go wherever you want to go. Maybe you'll have remembered something by then."
Elena nodded, rather reluctantly, and put her feet up on the bed. She leaned back against the headboard, her arms folded across her chest.
"Alright." she agreed, looking at the two of them. They seemed to be the only people she could put a face to a name, Sam and Dean, the two strangers that she had met a few moments ago. It's not like she had any idea who she could go stay with anyway.
Dean seemed a bit hostile, but Sam seemed nice enough. Elena guessed she could stay for a while, or at least until her ankle healed up.
But, what happened to her neck? She wondered if it was the reason why Dean seemed weary of her, and maybe if she found out what hurt her neck, she could remember what happened to her before she woke up in the stuffy motel room.
