Chapter 2

The day at school passed by too slow for Dean and he couldn't stop the nagging ache inside his head. He didn't understand it; he usually never got headaches unless he was hurt on a hunt. This startled Dean since he didn't know where that came from. He had never been hunting before that he knew of, so why would that come to mind, he thought to himself.

"Hey dude, you coming to the burger joint?" another student asked. "Everyone's going to be there."

"I don't think so," Dean responded. "I got things I need to do at home."

"Your loss, later." The guy walked away and started talking to some other students in the hall.

Dean headed to the parking lot and to his car to go home. Even his car didn't feel right as he cranked it and a soft purr came from the engine. He needed to snoop and find out what was going on and where Sammy and his Dad were. He was sure they were still alive, but he had fractured memories of them that he couldn't piece together and make sense of it all.

When he got to the house, he opened the garage door and pulled the Charger inside and killed the engine. Dean started to get out when he saw something in the rearview mirror. It looked like a girl dressed in rags staring at him. He quickly got out and ran around the car but there was no one there. He felt a chill go up his spine and his mind rebelled as a sharp pain pierced his head for a moment before slowly fading making him stagger and grab at the door jam of the garage.

When he could move without falling, Dean headed for the kitchen door and hit the close button on the wall for the garage door. He headed inside and listened closely to see if anyone was home. Feeling hungry, Dean went to the fridge and rummaged around finding a pie and grabbed the milk deciding that would be a nice treat. He cut a large piece of the pie and poured a glass of milk before putting the things back in the fridge. Dean hummed in delight with his first bite, closing his eyes as he enjoyed it. Once he was done, he put the dirty dishes in the dishwasher and washed his hands.

The family room was the first place he decided to explore. He walked to the bookcase and glanced at the titles of the books on the shelves before moving to study the photos randomly place there. There was one of the family when he was young, and Sammy was a baby. There was another of Sam and him sitting on the Impala. He looked around eight and that would make Sammy about four. He thought something was wrong with the picture, well, not the picture but with Sammy. He had a sour look on his face and seemed to be shielding away from him. He found one of him and his Mom where he looked in his teens.

"Hi son," Mary greeted him as she walked from the kitchen to the family room.

"Mom," Dean cried out hurrying to her side and hugging her tightly.

"Gee Dean, what brought this on?" Mary asked with a small laugh.

"Nothing, I just missed you." Dean let her go and looked longingly at her.

"Did you have a good day at school?"

"Yeah. Mom, where's Sammy and Dad?"

Mary froze and looked at Dean with a confused, perplexed expression for a moment, but didn't answer him. It was like she didn't want to say anything about them.

"What Mom? Did I say something wrong?"

"No honey," Mary finally said. "But I have never heard you call your brother that name."

"What, Sammy? What do I call him?"

"Nothing good," she replied looking away for a moment.

"I'm not sure I understand. Where's Dad?"

"Dean, your Dad and I divorced years ago, and Sam stays with him most of the time. Are you sure your head is not bothering you? The doctor said if you had any problems to contact him."

"Divorced?"

"Do I need to call the doctor?"

"No, I'm fine."

"But you don't remember things? I told you a few days ago John is dropping Sam off today to spend the weekend. They should be here soon."

"Maybe I did forget," Dean mumbled as he tried to pull up memories that kept eluding him.

"Do you want something to eat honey?"

"No, I had a slice of pie. Have I told you, you make the best pies ever?"

"Why thank you sweetie. You always did love my pies growing up." Mary hugged him and kissed his forehead before heading back into the kitchen. "I need to get something on for dinner tonight."

"Okay, I'll be in my bedroom." Dean wandered down the hall to his bedroom and went inside to plop down on the bed. He laced his fingers behind his head and looked around the room, letting his eyes linger on each item. Why didn't any of this seem familiar to him? Why would Sam want to go with their Dad to live? What split his parents up? Why could he not remember important things like that? He closed his eyes and emptied his mind, trying to erase the doubts he was having.

spn

Dean stepped into the kitchen and took a deep breath wondering what smelled so good. He saw Mary moving around the kitchen humming to herself as she wiped the counters. He looked to the front of the house when a doorbell rang.

"You want to get that honey?" Mary asked looking up.

"Sure," Dean nodded heading to the front door to open it. He broke into a big smile to see Sammy standing there slumped over with a scowl on his face. "Sammy!" Dean cried out grabbing him into a strong hug.

"What the hell!" Sam spat at him. "Get off me asshole," he growled at Dean before pushing him away and stalking off down the hall. He hated these weekends when Dean was home from the crazy house. He was already working on a plan to get rid of him again and maybe for good this time.

Dean stood there not sure what to do as he watched Sam storm away. He was at a loss for words shocked that Sammy would be acting this way toward him. He looked to his father for a moment and then looked back thinking he looked displeased and standoffish.

"Hello Dean," John said in a stiff voice.

"Dad, what's with Sammy?"

"He's in one of his moods. He got in a fight at school again and got suspended. I had a meeting with his teachers, and he might be held back this year."

"That's got to be wrong. Sammy, super smart. He always has been."

"John thanks for bringing Sam," Mary spoke up from behind Dean. "Will you be back the same time to pick him up?"

"Yeah, if nothing doesn't happen. I better get back on the road."

"What if I bring him home?" Dean asked before John stepped from the house.

"Really?" John asked suspiciously. "You've never offered to do that before."

"Well, why not? Maybe he'll talk to me about what's going on with him."

"I can't believe you even care, but that's fine with me," John agreed acting like he really didn't care one way or the other.

"Okay, I'll see you on Sunday," Dean replied starting to step to him to hug him, but John was gone before he got close enough. He frowned at this action, when in the back of his mind he felt a closeness to John that wasn't there now. He seemed distant, cold, aloof toward him, and Dean didn't know why. "I'm going to go talk to Sammy."

"Take it easy on him Dean, he's not handling things well."

"I will." Dean headed down the hall and stopped at his bedroom to look inside but didn't see Sam in there. He headed down to the door at the end of the hall and rapped softly before pushing the door open. He found Sam stretched out on a twin bed staring out the window. The room was barely big enough for the bed, a dresser, and nightstand with a lamp sitting on it. He swore it looked more like a closet than a bedroom. Dean didn't have any choice but to sit at the foot of the bed making Sam pulled his legs away from him.

"What do you want?" Sam muttered angrily as he glared at him.

"I just wanted to talk to you. What's going on with you dude? Fighting at school, getting into trouble, that sounds more like me than you."

"What do you care?" he scoffed. "Why are you even talking to me? You've never shown any interest in me before."

"What happened between us Sammy? Why do you hate me so much?"

"Is your memory that bad? I don't believe you! You hated me from the day they brought me home from the hospital. You even tried to give me away one time, but Dad stopped you."

"No, that can't be," Dean mumbled to himself as he frowned and rubbed his head.

"See this?" Sam got his attention pulling up his T-shirt sleeve to show an old scar on his bicep. "You pushed me down when I was four. I fell onto a piece of wood that had nails sticking out. I had to get ten stitches and a tetanus shot. You told Mom and Dad I was running and fell. You aways told them I was clumsy when you'd push me down and I scrapped my knees. I still have scars…"

Dean looked at him in shock and disbelief. He couldn't have done that; he loved his brother. He couldn't hurt him like that, never. Dean knew it was his job to keep his brother safe and to protect him. As he looked at him closer, Dean noticed he had a pierced ear and wondered when that happened. Sam would never do that, not the Sam he was trying so hard to remember.

"Every chance you got, you would hurt me, knocking me down on the pavement, tripping me on the stairs…You're the reason that Mom and Dad split up," Sam accused angrily knowing it wasn't true but happy to see how it hurt Dean. He was the reason they split up because he lied about Dean.

"What? How did I do that?" Dean asked in confusion.

"Dad caught you one time shoving me and you told Mom it wasn't true. You were always Momma's little angel," he sneered. "Never could do any wrong. You pretended to be the perfect son. They fought for weeks and finally Dad moved out and when he did, I begged to go with him. I didn't want to stay here with you and be tormented!"

"No, no…" Dean whispered shaking his head. That wasn't right he loved his brother. Sudden lancing pain pierced through his head making him double over in agony as he clutched his head.

"What's wrong with you?" Sam asked watching his brother cautiously. He had never seen him act this way before. He was being almost nice to him, and he had never in his entire life called him Sammy.

"Head," Dean mumbled as he stumbled from the room and to his bedroom to crash on the bed. He could see images of him taking care of Sam when he was a baby. He fed, bathed, clothed, and kept him safe. He wouldn't let anyone hurt him, not even his Dad. Why was he remembering things so differently? The pounding in his head grew worse until he almost passed out.

He didn't see Sam standing in the doorway looking at him with actual concern on his face for the first time in his life. At first, Sam had idolized Dean when he was little, following him around everywhere and trying to act like him, but when he got old enough to understand what was going on, he saw how cruel Dean was to him and resented him for it. He tortured him for years before Sam understood what Dean was doing. Dean could do no wrong growing up and their Mom always took his side. He backed from the doorway and left him alone.

spn

Sam was asleep in the lumpy motel bed when the door suddenly being opened and slammed shut woke him. He sat up in bed rubbing his eyes and looked around for Dean but didn't see him. Instead, he saw their father rushing around the room throwing things in bags.

"Dad," Sam called to him as he slipped from the bed. "What's going on? Where's Dean?"

"Get dressed Sammy, we need to go," John commanded in a harsh voice.

"Dad! Where's Dean?" Sam demanded grabbing his arm to stop him.

John closed his eyes and hung his head as he drew in a slow breath. He finally looked at his youngest son and laid a hand on his head. He knew how much Sam loved his brother and was almost afraid to tell him what happened.

"I don't know," he whispered. "We were checking the warehouses and separated. I went looking for him when he didn't come back but couldn't find him."

"Dean's missing?" Sam exclaimed. "Was it what you were looking for that took him? The monster?"

"I don't know, we didn't have any clear intel to work from on this one. It was just supposed to be a recon," John whispered. "I'm taking you to Bobby's and coming back to look for him."

"No, I want to help, he's my brother. You need my help," Sam insisted standing his ground. "I am coming with you," he sternly said again. "I might not can drive, but I'm another set of eyes to look for Dean. I'm nearly fourteen Dad, I can do this."

"Fine," John finally gave in knowing he'd get no peace or quiet from his youngest unless he gave in. It was easier than fighting with him. "Pack your things we need to retrace our steps and see if I missed something."

"I could look at the files again," Sam offered. He grabbed some clothes and started changing before gathering his and Dean's clothes like John asked. He shouldered his bag and Dean's and waited for his father by the door. A cold feeling crept up his spine as he wondered what had happened to Dean. They had to find him. He had to be alright. He was pulled from his thoughts when John opened the door and motioned for him to follow.

A/N: Where is Dean? Will John and Sam figure out what happened to him? There will be twists and surprises coming. Thank you for all who left me reviews. I do like reviews/comments. NC