"OK, It's OK. You just have to calm down," you told your reflection in the broken mirror. You stared at yourself, trying to control your breathing, trying to calm yourself enough to figure out what had happened. Your face and hands were covered in blood, not your own, as far as you could tell, and your clothes were dirty and ripped at the sleeves, but otherwise you were fine; a few scratches and a pounding headache - that was it.

You looked at your hands and started to freak out again. Shaking badly you turned on the taps and scrubbed at your hands, trying to get the blood off. You splashed water on your face as well, rubbing at the dried blood there. You gave up and sat on the edge of the shower, trying to steady yourself and think: "What is going on? What happened?" Flashes of memory came back to you, bits and pieces that made no sense: the side of a road, a truck, and then blood.

You reached for your phone and scrolled through to Dean's number. Another flash of memory hit you: You had left the bunker upset, you and Dean were screaming at each other. Did you throw a book at him? And then nothing. It went to black again. You put your phone down and rubbed your hands down your face. "Please somebody tell me what happened! Help me, please..."

Suddenly you heard a familiar and comforting sound in the other room: the rustle of invisible wings. You jumped up and opened the bathroom door to see Castiel in all his trench-coated glory standing in the filthy motel room. "Cas! Oh my God!"

"Y/N, where have you been? Are you all right? We have been looking for you for over a week." Castiel spoke calmly, but his eyes gave away his worry. You wanted to run to him and have him wrap his arms around you like always, but you were suddenly afraid. Not of him, but of yourself.

"Cas, I... I don't remember anything." You held your hands out to him and he saw the blood. "It's not my blood." You assured him and hid your hands under your arms, hugging yourself. "Wait, a week? So how did you find me here?"

"You were praying just now."

"I was? I guess. What the hell is going on?" A wave of dizziness hit you and you swayed forward. Castiel caught you and walked you to the bed. You sat and stared at him, big blue eyes regarding you with concern. "What do you remember?" he asked gently.

"Almost nothing. I mean, I think I remember leaving the bunker, but not really. It's like, blank." You waved your hand in front of your head, "Nothing else up there." Cas was quiet. You didn't like how he was looking at you, watching you as if you could attack him at any moment. He looked worried. Your head spun again, and your breath was coming in short little gasps. "What is happening to me?" You cried, putting your head down between your knees and trying to control your breathing lest you hyperventilate. "Cas, talk to me dude."

Castiel put his hand on your back and patted gently. "Let's get you home." He said and instantly you felt a pull in your stomach as the motel room seemed to fall away beneath you. Thankfully your head was down and your eyes were closed because you hated this. Being transported angelically was something you'd never get used too. You opened your eyes when you felt the ground return under your feet and you stood up, you were in the bunker, on the walkway overlooking the War Room. Dean was seated below at the big glowing table. He looked up when he heard the flap of wings and gasped your name when he saw you. "Y/N!"

"Dean..." You were still breathing heavily and now a little nauseous from the journey. You ran down the metal stairs towards him and he met you at the bottom, gathering you up into his strong arms. He held you tightly, his arm around your shoulders and one hand on your head.

"Where the hell were you?" he growled into your hair.

"I don't know. I don't know what happened...I… I can't remember anything." You stammered, tears welling in your eyes. It felt so good to be back in Dean's arms, but what had made you leave in the first place?

Dean pulled back quickly and looked you over. "You don't remember anything?" He asked, his face full of the same worry and concern that Castiel's had been.

"No. I mean, a few things, but I have no idea what happened, or what I did, or where I was, or why I'm covered in blood and…" You rambled, not taking in enough oxygen and your head became fuzzy again.

"It's OK." Dean said, pulling you back towards him. He kissed your forehead and looked up at Cas. "We'll figure it out. It'll be OK Y/N."

There were no windows in your room, so waking up in the bunker was always a little confusing, no daylight to give you a time reference. You felt like you'd been asleep for days, but the clock on your nightstand revealed it had only been a few hours, it was almost 9:30pm.

You had showered before collapsing into bed, but you could still feel the blood on your hands, you pulled the sleeves of your hoodie down and covered them, trying to ignore the feeling.

The hallway was quite, you passed Dean's room; the door was open and you could see that he wasn't there; his bed was still clean and made. You hadn't put your shoes on, and your bare feet squeaked on the waxed floor as you walked the halls in search of your friends. Voices rose from the library and you moved quietly towards them.

"Can't you do a little Angel Mojo or something and snap her brain back together?" Dean asked, his voice sounded tired.

"I do not believe her brain is apart Dean." Cas replied. You couldn't see it, but you were sure Dean rolled his eyes at that. "I could try to help her remember, but we don't know what caused this or what happened so it would be better if she came to it herself."

"Yeah Dean, she could be blocking it out for a reason." You heard the rustle of a newspaper as Sam continued, "And now this, a trail of bodies near where she was found. This isn't good. Whatever happened to her, it's probably best that she doesn't remember yet."

You stepped into the room and cleared your throat. All three men looked towards you. "Hey, how are you feeling?" Sam asked, coming to you and giving you a warm hug.

"OK I guess." You looked up at him "So…'trail of bodies'?"

He looked away towards the newspaper and back to you. "Well, um…don't worry about that right now. We don't know…"

"If it was me?" you finished his sentence. "But you're pretty sure it was." you moved away from him slowly, hugging yourself and trying not to panic.

Dean stood up and came towards you. "Hey, we don't know anything yet. Just relax."

"How can I relax? I don't remember anything from the last week and I woke up in a trashed motel room covered in somebody else's blood. You guys have no idea where I was, and now Sam's got a trail of bodies leading to me? How can I relax?" Your voice was strained and high at the end and you took a deep breath to steady yourself. Dean stepped forward and grabbed you, wrapping his arms around you again. You closed your eyes and tried to hide your face in his chest.

A flash of pain ripped through your head and you fell backwards out of Dean's arms. Memories flooded back before your eyes.

"You can't leave!" Dean was yelling at you, his face was red and angry.

"You can't keep me here either Dean!" You shouted back at him, grabbing your bag and shoving your journal inside it. "I'm going and you can't stop me. You can't keep treating me like a child. I can handle a solo hunt."

"You're gonna get yourself hurt again." He growled at you.

You laughed sarcastically, throwing your head back. "Oh thanks for that! Keep bringing that up! You know I really hate you sometimes."

"Don't say that. Put your shit down and stop this! You're not going."

You picked up a nearby book and threw it at him, it didn't even come close to hitting him but he moved over to dodge it anyway. "Now you are acting like a child!" He screamed.

"Screw you Winchester." Your words were slow and designed to stab him. You hoped it stung; you were so mad at him. He didn't say anything; he just shook his head and looked away. You shouldered your backpack and ran up the loud metal stairs.

"Y/N? Y/N!" Dean was calling your name, his hands on your shoulders shaking you. You opened your eyes to find yourself on the floor, the boys all standing above you. Dean was kneeling next to you, his hands flying all over you, making sure you were ok. "You OK? You fainted."

"I what? No I… I remembered something. We were fighting; I threw a book at you." You said, blinking up at him. "I'm sorry." You sat up, still trying to clear your vision.

"It's OK. Just relax." Dean wiped at his eye with his fingertips.

"So I did throw a book at you." You said, feeling instantly horrible and guilty. You and Dean had a very passionate relationship and that passion often extended into your fights.

"Yeah, but it's OK." He answered and reached for your hand. "You left and we couldn't find you after that." He kissed your hand. "I'm sorry."

It was just like Dean to feel guilty about something that you did to him. "Just help me up please." you said, waving away his pointless apology.

"So you remembered that, anything else coming back?" Sam asked.

"No, just that. Sorry."

"It's OK. It'll come back to you."

It was coming back; there were little flashes every time you closed your eyes, but none of it made any sense. It wasn't fluid or in full scenes, just glimpses of your hands or faces or a house here and there. You could not make heads or tails of it. Your sleep was fitful, full of dreams that made you twist and turn, fighting with your blankets. You called out a few times and Dean came to you, laying next to you and soothing you back to sleep. In the morning the dreams were gone and you couldn't remember any of it.

The next day you tried to avoid the guys as much as possible. Dean kept treating you like you were broken, like you couldn't even hold your fork by yourself. He followed you around all morning like a nurse. It made you insane. Sam was no better. He didn't bother you much, but he kept asking if you remembered anything and you caught him a few times staring at you like you were a lab experiment. You wanted to jump in your car and go for a drive but there was nowhere to go, and you knew you probably should stay put; at least until you got your head together. You were standing in the garage looking at your car longingly when Dean found you again.

"Going somewhere?" he asked.

You turned to look at him. You were trying really hard not to be annoyed with him, but this whole thing was just too much. "Let's go for a ride." You said, batting your eyes at him like you always did when you wanted something.

His eyebrows furrowed as he looked at you. "I don't think that's a good idea." He said with a sigh.

"Come on Dean! I don't want to be in here anymore. Take me for a drive. Please? We can go get some food. There's nothing to eat here anyway. Come on." You moved towards him, running your hands up his chest to wrap around his neck and you kissed him hard, pressing yourself against him. He softened to your touch and kissed you back, his hand reaching for your waist and pulling you closer.

You were dancing in a loud bar. You swung your hips seductively and flashed your eyes at a short older man across the room. He came to you and started to dance, grinding up against you.

"Y/N?"

You lead the man out of the bar, walking a few blocks until you turned down a dark alley. The man caught your arm and swung you around, kissing you and forcing you up against the wall. You didn't struggle, you let him kiss and touch you.

Dean was calling your name, but it sounded like you were underwater. You couldn't move to shake the memory.

A woman appeared in the mouth of the alley, she was covered in shadow, you couldn't see her face, but you knew she was there for you. She nodded and you pulled your knife from your jacket, plunging it into the man's chest.

You heard yourself scream, but it was distant like Dean's voice. You grabbed at his shirt, clinging to him as your head spun and your legs gave out. Dean held onto you and you both sank down to the floor.

"Y/N! Can you hear me?" Green eyes searched yours, waiting for an answer. You nodded and let go of his shirt, reaching for your head instead. Your temples throbbed; your pulse was too fast. You took a breath and tried to relax.

"Did you remember something?"

"Yeah…" You sat up and moved away from Dean. "The bodies were mine. I killed them." You got to your knees and tried to stand so you could run away. Dean grabbed your hand and kept you down with him.

"We will figure this out." He said firmly. You believed him, but you weren't sure if you wanted to figure it out. Not after what you'd just seen. You killed a man in cold blood. What else had you done?

To Be Continued...