A/N: I'm here. Again. Back on my writing which is getting worse with each chapter... I swear, it's getting worse with each try. Anyway, a million thanks to Wesley1501, Fezzes at 221b, and TB (guest) for their review which totally made my day. Also, a shoutout to Phelpsgirlxxx, Homohominilupus, KuramaNaruGirl, kandilyn, clar1235, hafsanasir395, SailorSpnFan, Ragnhild and kentuckyderby12 for either following or favoriting this story. Or both! You guys stay awesome!

Disclaimer: *holds the same banner and shakes head*

CHAPTER NINE: Safe Haven

The disorientation and confusion of not knowing himself was almost too much for little Dean. After the pretty lady who introduced herself as his doctor explained the circumstances, Dean felt terribly exhausted and spent. Everything about him hurt. Even when he closed his eyes, rest would not come. There were so many questions that needed answers.

Whenever left alone, Dean couldn't hold back the flood of tears anymore. He just felt so unwanted and unloved just by being here. Alone. Hooked up to a couple of mean-looking machines that supposedly kept him alive. Without a family. Dean felt like there was something he had to do, and he grabbed at the thought frantically but it dissolved into wisps of confusion before it could even fully form. It was achingly frustrating.

Sobbing into his palms, Dean saw all the old scars he sported. He knew there would be a story behind each one, but he couldn't remember them even if his life depended on it. The feeling of urgency never left him even as different medical staff members and government authorities interviewed him in the following days. The one with the CPS people was the weirdest of all.

The minute the CPS lady entered the room, Dean already knew something was wrong with her. He didn't like the smell that came with her-like she ate rotten eggs for breakfast-and he definitely didn't like the patronizing tone she used with him. "Hi, honey," she smiled sweetly at him as she sat down on the only available chair beside his bed and shrugged off her coat. "I know you went over these questions with the other people already, but I need you to answer them again for me okay? I promise you a candy cane if you cooperate with me," she winked conspiratorially at him.

Dean very nearly gagged in her face as he hastily wiped the moisture off his face. Thankfully, she didn't seem to notice his tears. He barely managed to restrain himself from telling her off, mentally scolding himself. It didn't make sense for him to hate her this much when he just met her today. "Okay," he answered timidly, toying with the IV drip connected to his left hand nervously.

"So you don't remember anything?" she asked, looking very shocked. To Dean, it looked rehearsed. It immediately got his defenses up.

"Well, they come in bits and pieces. I'm sure I'll remember soon," he said, schooling his voice so it sounded brighter and more optimistic than he felt at the moment. "Doctor Angelle, said so."

The lady's lips twitched up, as if she was supressing a laugh. Dean bristled again, wishing he had salt. Wait, what? Why do I want salt right now?

Utterly perplexed with himself and his weird reactions, little Dean failed to notice the total eclipse happening in the woman's eyes as she grinned malevolently at him. Oh yes, Azazel will be pleased.

When Dean looked up at the CPS lady again, all he saw was the smile plastered on her face. It would've been nice, only, it was the kind of smile that The Big Bad Wolf gave Little Red Riding Hood, sending chills down his spine. She looked ready to pounce him.

Oh great, now I know I read fairytales, thanks! he told himself, annoyed.

Fortunately, he was saved from his own imagination by the good doctor.

Angelle stood by the window of the ICU room-Dean was yet to be transferred-watching the exchange in secrecy. The little boy, Dean, was breathing a little too fast for her liking, and he edged away from the lady-Martha Carthage, as she had introduced herself earlier. The doctor couldn't hear what they were talking about, but if it was enough to break the 'I'm a tough adult' facade of the boy, then it was enough for her to throw the woman out.

She announced her entrance spectacularly, an apologetic expression on her face. "I'm sorry, Ms. Carthage, but I think that's enough for now. Dean needs a lot of rest to keep his strength up."

The woman looked annoyed but she obviously knew how to act as she schooled her face to look otherwise. "Oh it's fine," she said. "I'll be back for you, okay Dean-o?"

Why does that sound like a threat? Dean wanted to ask her, but instead he forced another brave smile, trying to look eager. "Okay."

Martha stood up, gathered her stuff and headed out with a slight nod to the doctor.

Once the woman was out of earshot, Angelle regarded the boy. He was too little in the too big hospital bed, surrounded with unnecessary linen that obviously annoyed him. She looked at him fondly. "You okay?" she asked cautiously. She knew from experience that treating him like 'a baby or a wimp' was not the way to go about Dean.

"Am fine," Dean muttered defiantly, unable to look the doctor in the eyes. His relief when she entered the room was not a vulnerability he could allow. He's a big boy now. He could manage. He'd do whatever the hell is bugging him at the back of his mind and survive this nightmare. He'd be fine.

After an uncomfortable silence, Dean peered at the doctor from under his thick eyelashes. "When can I check out of here?"

The question took Angelle off guard. "You can't," she answered instinctively.

"Why the hell not?" Dean shot back defensively, meeting the doctor's gaze head on. "I'm fine now!"

Angelle changed gears. "Of course you are," she said placatingly. "It's just that…"How do I explain this to a kid without sounding callous? She racked her brain for a miraculous answer.

"Just that what?"

"Where will you go, Dean?"

Dean snickered. It was such an easy question. "Home, obviously."

"Where is home?"

Dean lost his grin. He didn't answer. He couldn't, not even if his life depended on it, which he felt was the case here. His whole life hinged on him remembering everything. Anything. A name, a thing, or a place. Anything at all. But he just can't.

"Why can't I remember anything?" he whispered to himself hoarsely, his eyes getting alarmingly wet with each second that passed. "What's wrong with me?" Dean's hands found their way to his head and he grasped at his shorn dirty blonde hair as if that would bring him the memories he needed. He tugged at them frustratedly, harder with each pull, trying to see past the solid cloud that blocked him from remembering. "Why?!"

"Ssh, Dean, stop it," Angelle responded immediately even as her heart bled. She gathered him in a warm embrace despite his sobbing protest, restraining his hands that could do more damage in the process. "No one's expecting you to remember things right now. You should take your time and stop pushing yourself too hard. You'll remember soon enough. I promise." Angelle didn't like lying. Doctors aren't supposed to promise anything. But it was the only thing she could think of that would calm him down. "I promise you'll remember soon."

"What if I don't?" Dean sobbed brokenly, hating himself for being such a baby. "What if I never remember anything?"

Angelle didn't have an answer to that, so she just hugged the little boy and tried to make him feel her care as much as she could. It was the only thing she could do.

A/N: Tada! Gods of Olympus, it's been so long since I last updated! Omg. Haha, I'm graduating on the 27th, that's why ^_^v Anyway, what'd you think? I whipped this up from out of the blue and I really had no idea it would turn out to be so…fuzzy. Lol. So. R&R, yeah? I'd love it, swear.