"Who are you?" Dean demanded to know, holding the gun tight in his hands.
The girl shook in her spot as she was kneeling, slowly standing. She turned to face Dean and was met with a gun to the face.
"I... I don't know," the girl admitted, shaking in her spot. The concrete was cool under her bare feet.
"What do you mean by 'I don't know'?" Dean questioned, his knuckles going white. His trigger finger threatened to pull it.
"It means I don't have any clue to who you are, who I am, or what I'm doing here!" the girl burst, almost causing Dean to pull the trigger. He stopped himself just before he pulled it.
"No memories?" Dean inquired, cocking an eyebrow. He looked over the girl. She was shivering in her spot, the cool wind and bare feet having the effect. She was wildly looking around the small parking lot there were in. She was nervous. She didn't look like she didn't have any clue to what was happening.
"None," the girl admitted. Tears welled in her eyes. They were made from fear and apprehension. What the hell was she going to do?
"Can you tell me anything?" Dean asked, slowly pulling the gun down so it was pointed to the ground instead of her. He still held it in a grip ready to aim and fire at her, however.
The girl bit her bottom lip, finally admitting, "I have one memory. More like a small detail. I don't know what it's from."
"What is it?" Dean interrupted her, not letting the monologue continue. She took in a shuddering breath. A few deep breaths later, she finally opened her mouth to speak again.
"A number. Seventeen, to be exact."