What's My Name Again, Sam? by DeansBabyBird
Sam nodded as Dr Anderson spoke, overwhelmed with relief at his words.
"So the CT scan's all clear and you're saying he'll be fine?"
"Yes that's about the measure of it, Sam. It seems highly unlikely that your brother will suffer any long term damage at all."
The doctor smiled at the obvious delight on the face of the young man before him. They were an unusual pair these two and he had come to appreciate the intensity of feeling they had for each other over the three days that they had been in the hospital.
"Your brother has a hard head!"
Sam laughed; the first time he had laughed in the last three days and it felt good.
"You can say that again! And you say he's awake now?"
"Yes, we gradually reduced his sedation to zero throughout the night. He's still a bit groggy but that's to be expected and he's likely to get tired quickly over the next few weeks but he'll do fine."
Sam rose from his chair; the tension that had been ever present in his broad shoulders suddenly gone. They made their way to the door and Sam grasped the doctor's hand, shaking it gratefully.
"You may have to make a few allowances for Dean over the next few days Sam. Sometimes head injuries such as your brother received may sometimes make the memory a little sluggish, but it restores itself given time."
"Kinda re-boots?"
Dr Anderson laughed.
"Yes a good analogy, Sam! It may take a few days to re-boot all of Dean."
"Can I see him now?"
"Sure, you know where he is. In fact he can leave now, there's nothing else really for us to do here and he can come back to have his stitches out."
Sam pumped the doctor's hand, clapping him enthusiastically on the shoulder.
"Great doc! I'll get him home, he hates hospitals."
Sam turned and jogged off down the corridor his step light as a feather.
SNSNSN
Dean's head hurt and he was not the least bit surprised as he studied his huge but neatly sutured head wound in the bathroom mirror. It ran from within his spiked sandy hair, right across his forehead and terminated just over his left eye.
It was held together by what seemed to be dozens of little blue stitches all of which looked like they would be painful to remove! He decided not to think about that just now and, turning off the light, walked slightly unsteadily back into the room, and sat on the edge of the bed.
It was there that Sam found him seconds later as he burst into the room, an enormous smile plastered across his face.
Dean took in the impossibly tall man who slid to a halt before him and felt relief flood through his whole body, his thoughts suddenly dominated by one word.
"Sam!"
The name was a bark of pleasure; his sleepy green eyes widening, lighting up his handsome face and he stood shakily, throwing his arms around the startled younger man.
Sam was knocked for a loop as Dean hugged him close, holding the embrace for precious seconds before standing back, swaying slightly.
"Doc says I can go home!"
His words were a little bit slurred but Sam could hear his brother's unguarded delight.
"Yup! Just gotta get your meds and then we can go. How do ya feel? You OK?"
As they spoke Sam gently eased Dean backwards, sitting him down on the bed.
"M'fine, Sam"
The familiar reply hiked Sam's smile up another notch as he rummaged in the bag he tossed from his shoulder onto the bed looking for the clothes he had brought for his brother.
"I brought you some better clothes 'cause the ones you were wearing were pretty much ruined in the hunt."
Sam pulled tattered but clean jeans and Dean's favourite near-worn-out Metalica T-shirt from the bag, and placed them into Dean's outstretched but slightly shaky hands.
Dean looked at the holes and stains in the cheap jeans and shook out the T-shirt, grinning at the faded logo. He seemed lost in thought and Sam watched with bemused amusement as he poked his fingers through the various rips and tears like it was the first time he had ever seen the well-worn clothes.
"OK, Dean?"
At the question, the older man looked up and Sam was disarmed by the sappy smile that warmly crinkled the heavily lashed pale jade eyes.
"These are my better clothes? Gee we sure do lead a rough life huh Sam?"
Sam laughed at the joke; and tossing a pair of boxers onto the pile in Dean's hands, steered him gently to the bathroom.
"Can ya manage?"
Dean giggled as he pushed Sam away, modestly closing the bathroom door, and the spontaneous and youthful sound had Sam shaking his head in disbelief.
Sam busied himself gathering the rest of Dean's few scant positions together and shoving them into the duffle bag. He retrieved boots and jacket from the closet and signed for the large bag of pain meds brought by the nurse before sitting on the bed waiting for Dean to emerge.
"How ya doing, Dean?"
Sam called, glancing at his watch thinking it was taking his brother a long time to shrug the hospital PJ's in favour of his jeans. He stood and went and cocked his head at the door, listening. There was no noise at all from the bathroom and Sam felt a slight twitch of anxiety. He knocked quietly, opening the door.
"You OK in there, Dean?"
Dean was dressed and the hospital PJ's were carefully folded on the chair by the sink. He was standing before the mirror staring at his reflection in the glass, one hand raised to the huge scar on his forehead and a faraway look in his green eyes.
"Dean?"
Sam watched as his brother started slightly and then, with a seconds delay, swivelled his gaze to meet Sam's, as he lowered his hand.
"Is your head hurting?"
Dean shrugged, his head shaking and his full lips pouting in denial.
"No, I'm good, Sam."
"You good to go then?"
Sam looked quizzically from under chocolate brown bangs, and Dean smiled and nodded picking up the Pj's, and followed him from the bathroom.
SNSNSN
Dean set the hospital pyjamas on the bed next to his leather jacket, his hand trailing softly over the shabby coat. Dean smiled at the feel of the leather in his fingers and it seemed that he struggled to seek a distant memory. The older hunter picked up the jacket and put it on, his cheek unconsciously nuzzling the collar of the old coat as it settled around his shoulders. It smelled somehow familiar and he was comforted by its return to him.
"Ready?"
Sam had picked up their gear and was standing at the door looking back, slight puzzlement on his face. Dean nodded and crossed the room to stand at Sam's side, smiling up at his brother as Sam frowned.
"Dean?"
The older man looked seriously into his brother's eyes, his brows raised in question.
"Boots Man! It's snowing outside!"
Dean looked down at his bare feet wriggling his toes against the cold floor and then looked back at Sam, following his finger to the old boots sitting on the floor by the bed. He laughed.
"Good thinking, Sam! Go Stanford!"
And Sam grabbed his shoulders, tutting disbelievingly as he propelled his giggling brother towards the prematurely discarded footwear.
SNSNSN
The boots proved more of a challenge than Sam had anticipated, with Dean spending 20 seconds with the laces held in his hands and a look of baffled consternation on his face before he finally admitted defeat and looked up at Sam. Sam hunkered down before him and tied them up for him.
"Sorry Sam"
Dean's voice was slightly troubled sounding and Sam felt his brother's hand ruffle though hair as he knelt on the floor before him. He looked up and saw confusion on Dean's pale face.
"It's OK Dean, you're tired. Let's get you out of here huh? You're never at your best in hospitals!"
Dean nodded but the confusion remained in his eyes.
"Sam, would ya say we spend a lot of time in hospitals?"
Dean watched Sam frown, and he felt anxiety churn his stomach.
"Well, kinda, Dean. Our lifestyle sorta makes us more frequent visitors than we'd choose, doesn't it?"
Sam rose to his feet, his gaze still on Dean as he moved.
"umm...Yeah..."
Sam could hear the hesitation and lack of certainty in his brother's voice. Nervousness gripped at Sam and he sat back down on the bed next to Dean watching as his big brother looked away from him. He looked a little lost and suddenly very young.
"Dean, do you remember how you got hurt?"
Dean twisted his hands together. He was upsetting Sam and he knew that was a bad thing and that he wanted to avoid it at all costs, but for the life of him he could not really remember how he'd got the dent in his head.
He had loads of other scars too; he'd seen them as he got dressed. Most of them looked old but there sure were a lot and how he'd got them was a mystery to him as well.
"So, do ya remember how you got hurt?"
Sam's worried tone drew Dean's eyes back to his face and he smiled apologetically.
"I'm really accident prone?"
The disbelieving huff was out of Sam's mouth before he could stop it and he watched his brother wince slightly in response. He sucked in a breath, Dr Anderson's words ringing in his head. Memory possibly a little sluggish, may need a few days to re-boot the whole of Dean!
"Dean, do you know what we do for a living?"
"Umm..."
Dean wracked his brain, his face frowning in concentration until the frown pulled on his scar so he stopped.
"Well Sam, I can't entirely remember, but it's something that has a casual dress code!"
Dean poked his finger through the hole in his faded T-shirt as he spoke and Sam laughed despite his growing concerns.
"And we are either really bad at it 'cause we seem to seem to get knocked about a fair bit, or we are really good at it because we don't get dead! I'm kinda hoping for the latter!"
Sam laughed out loud, his big hands rubbing his face as he processed the fact that Dean couldn't remember at all that they were hunters. Dean laughed too, the humour masking his disorientation.
"But ...you know who I am don't ya?"
Dean nodded emphatically, his face earnest and serious.
"You're Sam!"
Relief flooded through Sam; the other stuff didn't matter it was just a re-boot; he could cope so long as Dean remembered him.
"That's right, I'm Sam!"
Dean grinned and slapped Sam's knee triumphantly.
"And I'm ...? In relation to you, Dean? I'm your...?"
The look of triumph disappeared to be replaced by a look that was a mixture of apology and evasion. Sam's stomach flip-flopped as he repeated the question, slight hysteria catching his voice.
"And I'm ...?"
Dean chewed his thumb nail as he looked into the increasingly desperate hazel eyes.
"Umm...You're...really tall?"
Sam groaned and pushed his long bangs back from his eyes as Dean shrugged apologetically
"I'm your brother!"
Dean's face broke into a huge grin.
"Really? Cool, Sam!"
Dean laughed and Sam couldn't help but smile at the genuine pleasure on his brother's face.
"Sorry Sam, but look at it this way. I did at least remember your name. In fact it's about the only thing I do remember! And I knew you were important, I'm just not entirely sure of exactly how!"
Sam assessed Dean's theory and in light of anything more comforting, nodded in agreement. He rose and turned to look at Dean.
"OK Bro! Shall we blow this joint and see if we can find you some more memories?"
Dean smiled, his big eyes blinking sleepily as he stood on wobbly legs and they made for the door.
As they reached the door Sam suddenly pulled up. He put his hand on Dean's shoulder and looked into his eyes.
"Bro, did you just say just about the only thing you remember is my name?"
Dean nodded, relatively unconcerned by the fact.
"So do you know who you are?"
Dean's face scrunched up in concentration. He knew Sam had called him by name on a number of occasions over the last half hour, but the actual name eluded him. Wait! It began with D.
"Dan!"
"DEAN!"
Sam's voice was louder than he intended and he raised his hands in apology as he repeated more quietly.
"Dean...your name's Dean"
Dean's mouth quirked into a smile as he said it again.
"Dean. Hum, yeah I like it!"
Sam shook his head and threw his arm around his brother's shoulder, steering him towards the exit.
"Hey, Sam?"
"Yeah, Dean?"
"What's our second name?"
"Winchester"
Dean turned in Sam's embrace; his eyes alight with childlike pleasure.
"Yeah? Like the rifle?"
Sam laughed thinking how Dean's eyes were gonna pop when he saw the boot of the Impala.
Yeah, Dean, like the rifle!"
Chapter ends