He doesn't remember.
He doesn't remember past the point where his father dropped to the ground and the demon ripped from his body. He doesn't remember Sam getting them both into the car and heading toward the local hospital. He doesn't remember the accident that caused all this.
He doesn't remember being dead.
He spends the next few days just staring at the wall in his hospital room. He doesn't try to comfort Sam, to comfort himself. Their father is dead, their lives are falling apart around him and he doesn't remember anything.
He hates himself more often then not. He spends hours picking through his mind, desperately seeking for answers. He only gets more furious when he finds nothing.
"Sam," he pokes his brother's shoulder until Sam blinks himself awake.
"What? Are you Ok? Do you need a nurse?" Sam asks sitting up quickly, worriedly.
Dean rolled his eyes, "No, sit down for one damn second Sam."
Sam dropped back into his seat. His eyes locked nervously on his brothers.
Dean couldn't blame him, he had barely said a word to him since their father had died. He'd been so consumed by his own grief, the very concept of taking care of his brother was the last thing on his mind.
"Go to a motel." He spits outs.
"No-" Sam says instantly.
Dean doesn't give him a chance to continue. "Listen, I'm sick of looking at you…so just go get a real bed and get some sleep." He knows how harsh he sounds and spares his brother a soft glance to let him know it'll be OK. Maybe not toady, or tomorrow…but it'll be OK.
Sam swallows and Dean knows he wants to say a hellva lot more but doesn't.
"Alright," He nods. "But if you need anything you promise to call? I'll just be gone a few hours but-"
"Yeah, Sammy…whatever. Just got."
Dean watches as he leaves, then drops his head to the pillow. He waits a total of three minutes then starts jamming his thumb against the button that connected him to the nurses office.
Seconds later a nurse comes running.
He glares at her, "Where's my damn necklace?"
That stops her short. She nearly skids to a stop. "Excuse me?"
"My stuff? You know…the shit I had on me when I was brought into this hell hole?"
He may not remember what happened, he may not know why his father was dead. He may not be able to comfort his Sammy…but this…this necklace he did know. This necklace he did remember…this love he did know.
He reached for the phone and dialed in Sam's cell, grateful that that at lest was spared in the crash.
"Dean?" Sam answers right away.
Dean forces his fingers to release the necklace, dropping it against his chest. It feels so right…so good. "You coming back soon?"
He thinks he hears Sam smile. "Sure, on my way."
When Sam walks back in moments later, and settles back into the chair at your side you can't but help and compare it to the necklace. Their both back where they belong…at your side.