DISCLAIMER: I only own my character! Anything you might recognize is courtesy of the CW.

WARNING: Some of these episodes/chapters may contain graphic violence, cursing, mentions of suicide or assault and other triggering aspects. Proceed with caution please.

Previously skipped: Playthings, Nightshifter, and Houses of the Holy…

At an underpass…

Dean was on his cell phone, leaning against his car as Angel fidgeted beside him, clearly upset. Their brother had gone missing again this past week only this time he hadn't been seen nor heard by anyone they knew. Both Angel and Dean had pits in their stomach.

"Ellen, it's Dean again. Any chance you've heard from him?" Dean frowned and shook his head to Angel as he listened to Ellen, "I swear, it's like looking for our dad all over again. We're losing our minds here… No, I've called him a thousand times, there's nothing but voicemail. I don't know where he went, or why. Sam's just gone."

When Angel's phone rang she looked down and saw it said 'SAM'S CELL'.

"It's him." Angel said hurriedly and quickly answered as Dean hung up with Ellen, "Sammy? Where the hell are you? Are you okay?" Her brows furrowed at his panic, "Hey, hey, calm down. Where are you? Alright, don't move, we're on our way."

Twin Lakes motel…

As soon as they arrived, Angel and Dean both frantically hurried down a narrow hallway, checking door numbers until they reached room 109.

"Sam." Dean knocked, "It's us."

Angel shifted from beside him, "Sam!"

When there's no answer Dean tried the door- it was open. Inside, Sam was sitting numbly on one of the beds. They instantly ran to him.

"Sammy? Hey."

"Thank god."

He didn't look up from staring down at the carpet, "Hey guys…"

"What the hell, Sam…" Angel finally got a good look at him and rushed over, he was covered in blood, "Are you hurt?"

Dean knelt beside him worriedly at the sight as well, "Are you bleeding?"

"I tried to wash it off…" Sam shook his head, "I don't think it's my blood."

Dean and Angel shared a look, "Who's is it?"

"I don't know."

"Sam." Dean earned his attention hurriedly, "What the hell happened?"

"Yeah where have you been all this time?"

"I- I…" Sam finally looked up, near tears, "I don't remember anything."

"What?" Angel studied him, "What do you mean you don't remember anything? Like- like you blacked out or something?"

"I think so…"

Angel looked to Dean grimly, her father's words echoing in her ears before getting to business, "Okay you know what? You need to take a shower and get all this blood off you. Dean and I will do some recon around town. See if we can find anything out."

"Sounds like a good start." Dean slapped him on the shoulder, "Don't go anywhere alight?"

"I won't…"

Later on…

Dean and Angel returned to the room, Dean carrying a grocery bag. Sam had changed clothed and showered, looking a little less out of it.

"What'd you find out?"

"You checked in two days ago under the name Richard Sambora." Dean answered with a roll of his eyes, "Of course, I think the scariest part about this whole thing is the fact that you're a Bon Jovi fan."

"Dean, Bon Jovi is the shit."

"No, Zeppelin is the shit-"

Sam rolled his eyes before scolding them, "Guys."

"Right." Angel cleared her throat, "Uh, your room's been quiet. Nobody's noticed anything unusual."

"You mean no one saw me walking around covered in blood?"

"Yeah. That's what I mean."

"Then how the hell did I get here? What happened to me?"

"Look, we don't know, but you're- you're okay," Dean repeated with a sigh of relief, "And that's what matters. Everything else we can deal with."

"Oh really? 'Cause what if I hurt someone? Or worse?"

Angel flinched, "Sam…"

"What if this is what Dad warned you two about?"

"Hey, whoa, whoa, come on man." Dean stopped him, knowing full and well they should've never told him what their father said, "Let's not jump the gun here. We don't know what happened. We've just got to treat this like- like any other job. What's the last thing you remember?"

Sam sat down, "Just the three of us… in that motel room in West Texas, going out to grab some burgers, and…"

Dean looked at him stunned, "West Texas?"

"Yeah…"

Angel scoffed, "That was- that was over a week ago. When you first went missing."

"That's it." The two of them looked stunned to hear that as he continued, "Next thing I knew I was sitting here. Bloody. Felt like I'd been asleep for a month."

"Okay. Retrace your steps. The manager said you left yesterday afternoon and he never saw you come back, so…" Dean pulled back the curtain and found a bloody fingerprint on the window, "Hey."

As they exit the motel Angel looked her brother over, "Recognize anything, Sammy?"

"Not really." He frowned as they went towards a parking garage out back, "Wait… I think I was here."

"Something jogging your memory?"

"Not really, it just… feels familiar, you know?" They went to the nearest garage and Sam looked over to the second and pointed, "Try that one. Yeah."

Dean tugged on the padlock, "Okay…"

Sam stopped Angel from handing over the lock picking kit to Dean, "Wait."

He dug in his pocket, frowning. He pulled out a key as he gave Dean a significant look. Dean opened the padlock with the key, raising his eyebrows at Sam. He pulled the garage door open to reveal a filthy, beat-up VW Beetle.

"Oh, please tell me you didn't steal this."

Sam fidgeted and they went into the garage and opened both doors of the car, Sam on the driver's side.

He touched the wheel and showed them his stained finger, "More blood."

Angel bent down in the back seat, "Uh guys…" She reached down and picked up a blood-stained knife that stuck to the floor of the backseat, "What the hell?"

Sam stared at it with wide eyes, "You think I used this on someone?"

Dean paused, sharing another look with Angel, "I'm not thinking anything."

"Me either."

Sam looked around before taking the knife from her and rubbing the handle off on the inside of his jacket.

"Okay…" Dean picked up a pack of cigarettes, "Now this is disturbing. Come on, man. This couldn't have been you. Had to have been someone else, somebody who, uh…" He sniffed the pack and grimaced, "Smokes menthols."

"Here." Sam picked something up from the floor, "Gas receipt from a few towns over."

Once at the gas station…

"Alright…" The three of them pulled up in front of a small gas station as Dean heaved a heavy sigh, "Receipt's for ten gallons at pump number two." He turned to Sam, "You getting any, uh, any goosebumps yet? 'God, this looks familiar', deja vu vibes?"

Sam frowned as he shook his head quietly.

"It's alright Sammy." Angel tapped his arm as they got out, "We might get lucky inside. They might remember you."

Once they went into the convenience store the clerk looked up in shock before the shock quickly turned to anger.

"You!" He pointed an angry finger at Sam, "Outta here now or I'm calling the cops."

Dean looked at him confused, "You talking to him?"

"Yeah, I'm talking to him." The clerk glared, "Jerk comes in yesterday, stinking drunk, grabs a forty from the fridge, starts chugging."

"Wait… him?" Angel pointed to Sam with just as much confusion as Dean, "This guy was chugging a forty? Him?"

"Yes!"

Dean scoffed, "You're drinking malt liquor now?"

"Not after he whipped the friggin' bottle at my head!"

"Seriously?" Angel gaped, "This guy?"

"What, am I speaking Urdu?"

"Look…" Sam shuffled towards him and tensed even more, "I'm really sorry if I did anything-"

"Tell your story walkin', pal!" The guy bristled as he picked up his landline, "Po-po will be here in five."

"Listen, listen." Angel quickly got in between them and motioned with her head to Dean who patted Sam on the chest, "Just, uh, put the phone down so the two of us can talk, yeah?"

"Lets go wait in the car."

"But Dean-"

"Now."

Sam sighed but followed him out without any further complaints.

"Look, I don't want any trouble and neither do they alright? Just wanna talk." The clerk glared at her as he hung up the phone, "Now yesterday, after he left, which way did he go?"

"Why don't you ask him?"

"He doesn't remember. Which is why I'm asking you, sweetheart." She leaned in with a small smirk, "Now please, you'd be doing me a huge favor."

"Listen lady if you think your little flirting act is gonna get your buddy off scott free you've got another thing coming!" He glared, getting even more angry, "That jerk didn't pay for the booze, or the smokes, which he also illegally lit up!"

Angel gaped, "You actually… saw him smoking?"

"Yeah." He scoffed, "Guy's a chimney."

"This ought to cover what he took." Angel sighed as she put money on the counter, "Now, where'd he go?"

"Thanks." He glared but rolled his eyes, "He went north. Route 71, straight out of town."

Later on…

Dean drove down a dark road, Angel in the back as Sam stared out the passenger side window.

"What's going on with you, Sam? Hm?" Dean barked after Angel relayed everything the clerk told her, "'Cause smoking, throwing bottles at people, I mean, that sounds more like me than you."

"Dean, wait… Right here." Sam pointed hurriedly at a turn in the road, "Turn down that road!"

"What?"

He shook his head, "I don't know how I know, I just do."

Dean turned down a back road and onto a private property. It was a large house with plenty of emergency lighting and security cameras outside.

"Look at all this…" Angel pursed her lips as she studied it, "If you were here there's gotta be some type of surveillance from it."

Dean looked over ,"Should we knock?"

"Yeah…" Sam shrugged, "I guess."

"Go for it."

Dean knocked on the front door while Sam poked around the corner, "Hey guys…"

He waved his flashlight at a window. It was broken, the ledge covered in shattered glass.

"I'm surprised the cops didn't show." Dean commented, "Place like this you'd think it'd have an alarm."

Angels brows furrowed, "It's weird that it doesn't…" She frowned as an eerie feeling started filling her at the sight of a disabled alarm on the wall, "I take that back… Someone just got to the alarm first."

When they went into the house they saw the floor was covered in broken glass and scattered items. In a back room, they came across a body on the floor.

Angel turned to Sam who was staring pale faced at the body as he stood at the door, "Sammy, hit the lights."

Sam turned the lights on as she and Dean knelt behind the body. They turned it over revealing a middle-aged man with a deeply cut throat; he was dead, his eyes still staring out. Shock hit Angel as Dean put a hand over his own mouth and Sam looked on in horror.

"I- I did this."

"Sam." Angel looked at him dismissively as she stood, "We don't know that. Not yet."

"What else do you guys need? I mean, how else do you explain the car, the knife, the blood-"

"I don't know, man, why don't you tell us?!" Dean snapped as he looked up at Sam, they shared an emotional look before Dean recovered, "Look, even if you did do this I'm sure you had a reason. You know; self-defense, uh, he was- he was a bad son of a bitch, something!" He turned back around and patted down the body, "He doesn't have any ID."

Angel walked over to the double-door closet in the room, frowning when realized it was locked.

"Dean, give me your lockpick."

He handed it over and she opened the doors to reveal an arsenal. One wall was covered in firearms and the other was covered in charts and clippings.

"Holy…" Dean gaped, "Either this guy's the Unabomber-"

"Or he's a hunter."

Sam gulped hard, "You think I killed a hunter?"

Dean looked at a security camera near the ceiling and motioned, "Let's find out."

Later on, Sam was sitting in front of the desktop computer as Angel and Dean stood behind. He cued up the security tape.

Dean nodded, "Here we go.

On the tape, Sam was fighting the same man who was dead on the floor behind them. The fight moved off camera but soon, Sam drug him back into the frame. He nelt, pulling the man up against his legs, and slit his throat. Sam stared at the screen in shock as Dean pulled back from the screen and stood straight. Angel's eyes went wide as she put a hand to her mouth and looked down at her little brother, who wouldn't meet her eyes.