Disclaimer: I do not receive any profit for my fanfictions, nor do I own Supernatural or Sam and Dean Winchester... though I wish I did. Can I have them for a Holiday Present... Please?

Title: Thoughtless Memories

Chapter Title: Chapter One: It Begins

Set After: Asylum

Summary: Dean thought Sam hated him. What better way to say 'I love you' like rock salt in the chest, right? He thought he couldn't feel any worse pain than he had when his brother spat those words at him, then shot him... But one day Sam was attacked while Dean went out for coffee... And he found something worse than that pain. "Sam? You okay?" "Um... Do I know you?" Now Dean's fighting to save his only brother... and his memories... But will he make it in time?

Warnings: Sadness... A lot.

"Jess! I'm home! Jess?"

Sam walked into his room, and smiled slightly when he heard the shower going. Everything was right again. His interview was less than 24 hours away, he was back at home with his girlfriend, he was just about to get a free ride into Law School, and he didn't have to worry about any more hunting trips. Yup, life was good.

Sam closed his eyes and laid back on his bed, his soon-to-be life flashing through his mind. Three kids, a dog and a cat, a white picket fence around his perfect 'Pleasantville' house and --- Woah, woah. Wait. Did something just drip on him?

Sam opened his eyes, them growing wide as he stared at his girlfriend gutted on the ceiling. He gasped. "Jess!"

"You lied to me..." Jess whispered just before the flames enveloped her.

"Jessica!"

"Sam! Sammy! Wake up!"

Sam opened his eyes quickly, finding himself in a hotel room. He was sweating, and his clothes were sticking to his skin. He looked to his left to find his older brother staring at him with scared and concerned eyes. He was also wearing a nice outfit of shaving cream.

"Are you okay?" Dean asked, still looking at Sam with the same expression.

Sam laughed slightly, noticing the razor in his brother's hand. "Dean?"

"What?"

"You're bleeding."

"Bitch." Dean shook his head and walked back over to the bathroom, staring at himself in the mirror. "Damn it!"

"It's a good look for you!" Sam yelled across the motel room. He shivered slightly, getting up from his bed. Wow. It was freezing in the room. So it made perfect sense as to why Sam was sweating... Nightmares... Gotta love 'em.

"Shut up," Dean said, giving him a 'look' before rinsing his face off. He walked out of the bathroom and over to his bed, sitting down. "What can you expect? It was all peaceful and quiet in here and shit and all of a sudden I hear a scream: 'Jessica!'" Dean mocked fright and waved his hand in the air. He looked over at Sam. "You never answered my question."

Sam rolled his eyes and grabbed a towel, heading towards the bathroom. "I'm fine, Dean."

"Really? Cause you didn't seem that fine to me. You do realize that it's, like, 40 degrees in this room, those blankets are as thin as paper, and you were sweating so much your hair was sticking to your face?" Dean walked over to his suitcase and grabbed some socks and his boots, walking back over to his bed and sitting down.

"Where are you going?" Sam asked, setting down the towel on the counter, taking his shirt off as he sat down on the toilet. He threw his shirt on the floor and started on his socks.

Dean raised his eyebrows. "Somewhere where my kid brother isn't stripping in front of me, that's where."

Sam rolled his eyes as Dean stood up. He sighed and walked out of the bathroom. "Dean... We need to talk."

Dean stopped as he reached for the door handle, his other hand holding his jacket. He froze in place for a moment, then nodded, facing Sam. "Yeah, Sam, you're right. We do need to talk... What was last night's nightmare about?"

Sam shook his head. "That's not what we need to talk about, Dean. When we were at the asylum -"

"The asylum?" Dean asked, raising his eyebrows. "What's there to talk about? You hate me. I get it, Sammy. No hard feelings."

"Dean, I don't hate you," Sam said, sighing. Yup, he really wasn't going to argue about the name 'Sammy' with his brother while he was trying to convince him that he doesn't hate him... Not the best tactics right there.

Dean scoffed, nodding. "Right, Sammy. Whatever you say. But, really, nothing says 'I love you' like a shot in the chest with rock salt." Dean turned back towards the door, grabbing the door handle and opening it.

"Dean -" Sam started.

"I'm going to get some coffee. I'll be back soon," Dean said before stepping through the door and shutting it quickly.

Sam sighed and walked over to his bed, falling down on it. He groaned loudly, shaking his head.

"Don't you think you have more coffee there than you can drink?" a girl asked as Dean started towards the stairs leading to his motel room.

Dean turned around and faced the girl. He smirked, then looked down at the coffee. "Well, two of them are for my brother."

"That still leaves three," the girl said innocently, walking over to Dean.

Wow, was she hott. She was just like Katie Holmes out of Batman Beginnings. The brown hair, the hott bod, the great chest... Even that flirtatious smile that played along her lips... Damn.

"I'm a heavy drinker," Dean said, shrugging. "You're welcome to take my brother's coffee, though. I'm sure he won't mind. Then again..." Dean walked closer to her. "We could share. I don't mind, as long as you --"

"Dean!"

Dean whipped around, facing the stairs with wide eyes as he started hearing gunfire shots from his motel room. He quickly handed the coffee to the girl. "Take 'em." Dean ran up the stairs, taking them three at a time.

"Dean!"

"Sam!" Dean yelled before grabbing the door handle. Damnit. Locked! He grabbed his gun from his pants and shot at the handle, kicking the door open.

Sam was laying with his back on the floor, screaming in pain. On top of him was a creature... Long pointy nails and teeth that looked as if they could bite through brick. It was brown and scaly, with green blotches on its body. It seemed to have wings coming out of its head, and it had three eyes... At the moment it was holding Sam down by his neck, sticking one of those nails into his head.

"Sammy!" Dean yelled, terrified for his little brother. He shot at the creature, and it quickly faced him.

The creature got off of Sam and started towards Dean, who shot it repeatedly in the chest, before it flicked like a flame and vanished.

Dean stared at the spot where it was a second ago, then dropped his gun to the ground, running over to Sam. Wait a minute. Where was the wound? Where was the blood?

"Sammy?" Dean asked. His brother's eyes were closed and he was panting hard... But he seemed to be in a relieved state. A state which one could only get at by being in searing pain one moment and having nothing wrong with you the next.

Sam opened his eyes and stared at Dean. He looked around the room for a moment, looking confused... searching... He looked back at Dean, and opened his mouth, as if he had something to say. He closed it, looking more confused than ever.

"Sam?" Dean asked, raising his eyebrows. "You okay?"

"Uh... Do I know you?"

Dean: I already don't like this story.

Haley: And why is that?
Dean: Why? You're seriously asking why I don't like your story when my own little brother doesn't remember me?

Haley: Er... Yes?

Dean: You're fucking kidding me, right?

Haley: Well --

Sam: Alright, onto the next chapter! Please!

Dean: Bitch.

Haley: Hey!

Dean: No, not you. Him.

Sam: Jerk.