.-.-. Memory Remains.-.-.-.

Summary:

For two weeks Sam hasn't seen or heard from Dean and his search is getting nowhere. Now he's filing a missing persons report in a small town with a cop who looks an awful lot like his big brother.

Disclaimer - The usual, don't own 'em, just love playing with them. :D

Set late season 2… warnings for bad language and the other typical things you can expect from a SPN fic.

Hey y'all! Update time! Really hope you're going to enjoy this little tale, thanks for the support so far ^_^

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Like twisted vines that grow

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Taking a deep breath, he pushed himself up and towards the small sink. He splashed some cold water onto his face and closed his eyes, focusing on forcing his lungs to inhale and exhale. Whatever was going on, he wasn't going to get to the bottom of it hiding in the police station's bathroom… With another couple of minutes to try and stop the shaking in his hands and to try and bring some colour back to his suddenly pale face, he left the room and headed back towards where Grey was sat.

"Feeling better?" The officer asked, standing up on Sam's approach.

"Yeah, a bit."

Grey hesitated for a moment, as if he didn't believe the young man, watching him carefully before clapping his hands together and putting on a smile, "Right… so back to business?"

Sam nodded, not trusting his voice at the moment. Retaking his seat, he leaned forward, eyes following Grey's movements. They were so Dean-like and yet at the same time, they weren't. If Sam had to choose the major difference and describe it, he would have said 'unguarded'. He'd seen the look plenty of times over the years, especially in the small town cops who rarely ever got any trouble and if he hadn't known any better, if he had just been some stranger… that's all the man in front of him was - a small town cop with a family.

"So this guy you're looking for, you got a photo?"

Sam nearly laughed at the idea. What the hell was he supposed to do? Show Grey a picture of himself? And it wasn't like the brothers made a habit of carrying photos around with them. They only ones they did have were part of their fake ID's and all of Dean's had disappeared along with him. There was the FBI database though… Would it be too risky? He swallowed hard before answering, deciding that maybe by showing the man a picture Sam could get some sort of clue about what was going on from his reaction, "We had him in custody once actually… so there's a couple of mug shots on the FBI database, probably the best quality that I'd be able to show you."

Grey laughed, relaxing back on his seat as he shook his head in slight amusement, "Sorry, it's not really funny. It's just we haven't been able to get connected to the system for a week now and the admin is on holiday. And I'm guessing you ain't got any hard copies with you?"

Sam could feel hysteria building up inside of him. It made sense that whatever was happening would stop him from accessing any information related to Dean. Perfect… just perfect. "No, nothing…" He sighed, hanging his head down and looking away from the man in front of him. He wanted to tell him, wanted to say to him 'if you wanna know what Dean looks like, look in a freaking mirror'.

"Looks like we're gonna have to do it the good old fashioned way then." Grey replied as he pulled the keyboard towards him and opened up the program he needed, "You're gonna have to give me a description."

"Well, that should be easy." Sam muttered, retrieving a questioning glance from Grey. "Photographic memory, I can see him as if he were standing right in front of me." He lied and Grey took the bait, nodding his head and returning his attention to the screen.

"Dean, Dean Winchester." He paused for moment, lifting his gaze once again to see if there was any reaction from the man in front of him, but if there had been, he'd either missed it or it was too well hidden, "But he uses aliases, not that you'd be surprised to hear that though… He's twenty eight years of age, approximately six foot, short light brown hair… kinda like yours. Eye colour, I swear they're green but my partner claims they're hazel-"

"Your partner?"

Yeah, partner, brother… Sam thought suddenly unable to look Grey in the eye, "Yeah, he's checking out some different leads…"

"That makes sense…"

Giving Grey whatever other descriptions he could without being too obvious, he pulled a post it pad towards him and jotted his number down on the top sheet, "If you hear anything, or see anything, call me on that number - you know where I'm staying."

"You not planning on getting knocked out again are you?" Grey smiled, a slight sense of tease in his tone that made Sam's heart twist… so Dean-like.

"God I hope not…" He shook his head, pushing the pad back and standing up, "Anything at all, call me. Even it seems like a waste of time or completely insane. Keep your eyes open."

"Yessir!" Grey smiled as he stood, saluting playfully, "I'll call you straight away Agent Williams."

"Sam, call me Sam." The youngest Winchester told him, wanting more than anything to see some sign that told him either Dean was in there or that the thing that was using Dean's body recognised him. But when nothing presented itself, he gave one last nod and headed towards the door, pulling his cell phone out of his pocket as he went.

Bobby answered pretty quickly, but Sam wasn't surprised. After he'd called the elder hunter the previous week, Bobby had wanted updates on what Sam had found every so often. And this… this definitely deserved an update.

"How's it going Bobby?" Sam asked; loosening his tie with his free hand once he was out of the building.

"Shouldn't I be asking you that?"

Scoffing and leaning against the Impala, Sam looked up at the building in front of him, imagining what Officer Grey was doing inside. Was he watching him through one of the windows? Was he laughing at him? "I found him."

"Wait… what? You found him? …Then why the hell do you sound like someone just kicked your puppy?" Sam could hear the frown in Bobby's tone, could see it clearly in his mind's eye.

"It's… well, honestly - it's screwed to hell. It's so messed up I can't even make sense of it. It's him Bobby… but it's not." Closing his eyes, Sam paused and took a deep breath. He wasn't making sense. How was Bobby supposed to help him if he wasn't even making sense? "I've just spent the last half hour in the local cop shop with one of the officers. Officer Grey, freaking married with two kids! He even showed me pictures! But it was Dean… and I swear to God, this whole thing is making less sense by the second."

"Hoold up." Bobby called through the speaker, "Dean was who now?"

"The cop… Dean's the cop… the cop's Dean. And I don't know if something's just using Dean's body or what… but it's definitely him Bobby."

"Did you say anything to him? Does he know you know?"

"He thinks I'm with the FBI and I'm trying to find a suspect. I figured he'd try and lock me up if I started talking like a mad man."

"Keep it that way. Just play along for now and keep an eye on him. I'll be there as soon as I can. Just gotta finish up this salt 'n' burn then I'll hit the road."

"Thanks Bobby." Sam smiled, thankful that he wasn't going to be alone in whatever madness was going on, "I'll see you when you get here."

He closed the phone and threw it unceremoniously onto the passenger seat, on top of the missing person case files that sat there, as he climbed behind the wheel. His next move was decided for him as his stomach growled painfully, making him realise that he actually couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten. Remembering a small café he'd passed on the way to the station, he set off in that direction, pulling up neatly outside of it.

The place looked cosy and private enough for him to take his research in there without the worry of being disturbed. He grabbed the files and clambered out the car, choosing one of the window booths to sit in. He ordered a coffee and some fries when the waitress came, deciding it would be easier to just pick at food with one hand whilst skimming through the files with the other.

It wasn't long before he reached the folder that held the information of a Diana Roberts, most of his fries had disappeared at that point and his coffee was long since gone. Studying the photo and information carefully, he barely even heard the waitress approaching with the coffee pot.

"You want some more?" She asked, trying to catch his eye.

Looking up, Sam opened his mouth to reply, the words getting stuck somewhere in his throat. He glanced down at the photo once more before looking back at the waitress. They were one in the same, he was sure of it. Only the name tag that the waitress wore said Eva. He smiled and nodded, plastering the mask on, "Yeah thanks."

As she poured the drink, Sam watched her, glancing at her tag once again, "Is Eva your real name?"

Laughing, she finished pouring and looked at him, "Why of course it is silly boots. Why would ask that?"

"You just don't strike me as an Eva."

"Well that's just nonsense." She shook her head, her eyes still laughing brightly as she turned away and headed towards another customer.

First Dean, now this Diana… it was no coincidence. Sam bet that if he looked hard enough he'd find all the others hiding somewhere in the town as well. He just hoped that Bobby got there soon to help him figure it out…

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It had been a long day by the time he got back, he was about ready to drop down onto his bed for an eternity of sleep but he knew he couldn't, not yet. He had responsibilities. Leaning against the back of the door, his face fell into a quizzical frown as he thought about the man at the station.

There was just something about the kid, he didn't seem like your average FBI agent… not that Grey could really remember ever really coming into contact with one. "Sam…" He whispered the name, bringing his hand up to his brow as he massaged it in attempt to get rid of the headache that was forming, "Sammy."

"Jonathan?" A female voice called through the hallway as a woman emerged at the end, dark chocolate coloured hair settling in waves around her face, "That you honey?"

Removing his hand from his brow, he smiled at his wife as she turned to him. He didn't have a chance to answer as the sound of smaller feet came rushing down the stairs and he found himself opening his arms to catch his petite blond haired daughter as she threw herself at him.

"Daddy!" She called, snuggling into his chest.

"Hey pumpkin, you been good for your Mom?" He asked as he brushed a stray strand from her face, smiling as she giggled at him.

Placing a hand on his shoulder, Joanna kissed him on the cheek before answering the question meant for Morgan, "It was touch and go for awhile, but in the end she convinced me not to send her back and get a refund."

"Mo-oom." Morgan rolled her eyes, pushing her pet lip out as she pouted but it soon vanished when Joanna ruffled her hair before heading back towards the kitchen.

Readjusting his grip on his daughter, Grey followed her, the headache already vanishing, as it if hadn't even been there in the first place. Why was he thinking about some kid in a suit when he had his family waiting for him at home anyway?

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