Samnesia - Prologue - Questionable Decisions

Summary: Brooke is a calming distraction from the chaotic mess of Sam's life. When a hunt keeps them separated for over a month, Sam returns to find she no longer remembers him. The need to find out what happened while he was gone sends Sam on a case that will change the course of his life. What he discovers along the way will change the way he looks at love.

Warnings: angst, fluff, slow burn, language, stalking, mentions of cheating, kidnapping, shitty friend, canon level violence mentioned.

Characters: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Rowena McLeod, brief - Mary Winchester, OFC, OC's.

Pairing: Sam Winchester x OFC (Brooke)

Notes: set around season 14. Chapters 1-8 flick between "then" and "now" but all in timeline order and labelled.

A/N: This has been a labor of love since 2019. I wanted it to be perfect and finished before I started posting. Its finally finished and WILL NOT be abandoned.

Now

The Winchester Brothers were predisposed to questionable decisions. They were born from questionable decision-making stock. Take Mary Winchester and her deal with Yellow Eyes, for example. Or John Winchester and his deal with Yellow Eyes, for that matter. But Sam kidnapping a woman - a very human, non-supernatural woman - from an apple pie suburban neighborhood at eleven-thirty on a Wednesday night was firmly in the top ten on Dean's 'Sam Did a Bad Thing' list, and he'd been very vocal in expressing his feelings on the matter.

"This is fucking bad, Sam," Dean told him for the hundredth time.

Sam knew that. He was acutely aware that casting a sleeping spell on a woman was a Bad Thing. He knew it was even worse that he'd literally dragged said sleeping woman into his car and currently had her in his bed. The situation had quickly spun out of control, and he hadn't been able to rein in his emotions long enough to think rationally, but there was no going back now.

Dean paced the corridor outside Sam's closed bedroom door and, rather unnecessarily, continued to lecture his younger brother. "You get that this is beyond screwed up, right?" Dean took a deep breath but didn't pause long enough for Sam to answer. "You've practically kidnapped the daughter of a police chief. Hell, there's no 'practically' about it. Sam, you kidnapped…" he drawled the word, pronouncing every syllable precisely, "…the daughter of a goddamn cop!"

Had Sam not been on the verge of freaking out, he'd have rolled his eyes. Dean was talking to him as if he hadn't been the one to knock her out with a sleep spell and bundle her into the back of his car.

"I know, Dean!"

He didn't need the glaringly obvious stated; he needed help. He needed his big brother, his hunting partner. He needed Dean to stop lecturing him and help him work the case. And Sam was convinced there was a case. He just needed his brother to sign on and be the level-headed one. Funny how those shifts in dynamic seemed to sneak up on them in times like these.

Dean grumbled, seemingly having a conversation with himself while he continued to polish a patch on the tiled floor with his socked feet. "Do you at least have a plan?"

"Other than getting her here? No," sighed Sam. He turned to rest his back on the wall, tilting his head back to stare at the ceiling as if he would find the answer to his dilemma there. "I didn't know what else to do. I just knew something was wrong and that I had to get her away, keep her safe."

"Safe from what?" Dean growled. "You don't know that this has anything to do with you! There could be some logical explanation."

Sam was losing patience with his brother. His skepticism wasn't productive, just irritating. Sam filled his lungs to bark back at him when the sounds of movement behind his closed door disrupted their fight.

Panic replaced Sam's annoyance, and he instinctively tried the door handle to check on the sleeping occupant of the room. It didn't budge. She must have wedged a chair under the knob. Sam caught Dean's eye, a moose caught in headlights, looking for an answer neither of them had. His half-cocked plan hadn't even covered her waking up and him having to explain himself.

Dean raised his arms in mock surrender, though his tone was gentle and sympathetic. "This is all you, Sammy." Dean had a habit of taking the wheel when he wasn't needed, but the one time Sam wanted him to, Dean took a step back and let Sam drive. Fucking great.

Sam took a deep breath to calm his nerves. He needed to treat it like any other case, regardless of his personal investment. He cleared his throat and worked to keep the bass out of his voice so as not to sound threatening or intimidating.

"Brooke?"

No response.

"Brooke, I'm so sorry. I know this must be freaking you out, but I can explain."

"This should be good. Go ahead," she said, sarcasm laced with unease in her tone, "explain why some random dude interrupted my date and fucking kidnapped me!"

"I didn't… Okay, technically, I did abduct you," Sam sighed in frustration. He hated to have to talk through the door. He wanted nothing more than for them to be face to face so she could see how sorry he was, how sincere his words were. "But you're free to leave whenever you want. I just need you to… I'm asking you," he corrected softly, "to hear me out before you go anywhere. Please."

Sam held his breath, almost afraid he'd miss her response. She was silent for less than two heartbeats.

"Okay. Talk. I'm listening."

"Be easier without the door in the way."

Her mirthless laugh was loud enough for him to hear through the thick wood. "Not happening. I may be a douchebag magnet, but I'm not stupid."

Sam couldn't help but chuckle.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing. Sorry. It's just…that's how you introduced yourself the first time we met. 'Douchebag Magnet'."

The quiet stretched between them and cast even more confusion into Sam's heart. When Brooke's curious voice finally came again, Sam felt a swell of hope replace it. "First met?"

"Yes. Three months ago." He paused, giving her a moment to digest the revelation. "Brooke, I'm not a psycho. We know each other. We're in…we've been dating. I can prove it." When she remained silent, Sam's heart dared to dream that she believed him. He could practically hear the gears as they turned in her brain, could see in his mind's eye the crease of her forehead as she searched for a memory of him. "I know this whole thing is probably scaring you. And if I'm being honest, I'm scared too… but that's why I brought you here."

He was scared, but not about any of the logical things one might fear after committing an abduction. Turning his head, he met his brother's green eyes and let his guard drop. Dean had been right there with Sam every time they got sent through the wringer, but the fear Sam lived in on this side of the door wasn't like anything Dean knew. Sam was afraid Brooke wouldn't give him the time to explain himself, that she'd demand to be set free and leave without giving him a chance to help her. He'd never see her again if she did decide to walk out that door and not look back, and he'd add yet another person to the list of 'Loved and Lost' that only grew longer and longer throughout his life.

"I know it probably doesn't mean much, but I promise I will not hurt you."

She laughed again. "Like I said, I'm not stupid, and I'm definitely not deaf. So what if you say you won't hurt me… What about the other guy?"

It was one thing for Dean to know about this mess, but to be dragged into it had him leveling Sam with a glare of John Winchester-level intensity. Thankfully, he left it out of his tone when he replied. "Yeah, there's two of us. I'm Dean, and we're not gonna hurt you. We just want to help."

Sam shot his brother a thankful smile as his shoulders deflated a bit, but he knew their promises wouldn't be enough. He had, as far as Brooke was concerned, kidnapped her. A 'stranger' promising not to hurt her wouldn't gain her trust. He needed something more, something to give her some control back.

"I need you to promise the same," Sam started cautiously. This was either a great idea or a very bad one. "If you look in the top drawer to the left of the bed," Sam instructed, taking a deep breath, "there's a gun."

"Dude!" Dean warned in a hushed whisper, slapping his arm to get his attention. "What if she starts shooting?"

"She won't. I know her. She's not the kind to shoot first." He was ninety percent sure of this statement, but anyone in the given situation would be unpredictable. They didn't have to wait long before they heard his drawer sliding open and closed, then the scrape of metal as she released the magazine to check if it was loaded. "I know you know how to shoot because your Mom, Dad, and brother are all cops."

Wood scraped across the tiled floor behind the door a moment later, and Sam released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. He didn't make a move to open the door, even though he now knew nothing was obstructing his entrance. They all needed this to be on her terms, even more so now that she was armed.

"Okay, you can come in," she agreed tentatively, "but only one of you."

Sam twisted the knob, but Dean's hand on his elbow stopped him before he pushed it open. "Are you sure about this?"

"I promise you; she won't shoot me. She's too curious not to want answers first," Sam reassured him. "Although, she might shoot me later when I tell her monsters are real," he added in a whisper but didn't wait for Dean's response before he pushed the door open.

Brooke stood beside his bed, gun held in a two-handed grip, feet planted to take the brunt of the shot should she need to fire. Even with the weapon in her hands, she looked like a cornered animal. The hairs on her arms, and presumably the back of her neck, stood on end. She was a snake, coiled and ready to strike, and a deer in headlights all at the same time. Sam expected the controlled prowess, but the fear in her eyes was damn near heartbreaking. In the time he had known her, he had never seen that look on her face, and the fact that she was afraid because of him - afraid of him - hurt deeper in his chest than he thought it could.

Sam raised his arms, crossed the threshold, and took a step to the left. Dean stood in the hall for her to identify him, but his hands were raised as well, the two of them leaving the door wide open and her escape path clear should she decide that's what she wanted. Sam's eyes fixed on hers, careful to keep his expression gentle and to move slowly to avoid startling her.

She regarded him for a tense minute, her eyes running the length of his body, assessing him for a reason he wasn't sure of until she spoke. "Are you armed?"

Sam shook his head no and gripped the hem of his shirt, lifting it to reveal the waistband of his jeans as he completed a slow turn to show her he didn't have a concealed weapon. With a pointed look, Dean did the same.

"Sit on the floor, hands behind your head," she instructed, and Dean obliged. She motioned with the gun to the chair behind the door. "And you, sit. Leave the door open. Hands on your knees."

Sam hated her short, clipped tone, but he couldn't blame her. He was damn sure he would find someone to blame before this was over, though.

Brooke waited until he'd settled in the chair. "Talk."

"Where do you want me to start?"

"The beginning." It was phrased as a question, but her tone was skeptical when she followed with, "How did we meet?"