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. Excuse me while I go drool at their hotness... Exits Stage Right.

Title: Thoughtless Memories

Chapter Title: Chapter Two: Trust

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: Totally short chapter... You must forgive me! x.x

"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?"

"Excuse me?" Dean asked, feeling like his heart had just been ripped out of his chest. For a moment he couldn't breath.

He had always had someone to count on... to be there for him, no matter what. Even when Sam was away at college Dean knew he could always just go to his place or call him or whatever... and Sam would be there. That's how Dean knew that Sam would search for their father with him, even before Jessica was killed. But now? Now it seemed as if the ground beneath Dean had been ripped out from underneath him, and he was falling... a time when Sam would've saved him but now... now he was left falling... with no one to catch him.

"I... I'm sorry," Sam said, sitting up. He stared at Dean for a moment, searching his face for some sort of familiarity... But he found nothing. Nothing at all. The face he was staring to was the face of a stranger. "I don't know who you are... Now that I think of it... I don't know who I am... Who am I?"

Dean sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. He had to keep his cool. Freaking out wasn't going to help Sam remember a damn thing. If he wanted to help his brother he had to be understanding... He had to give it time... How the hell was he going to do that? Dean wasn't exactly known for his patience...

"Come on," Dean said, standing up. He held out a hand and, after hesitating for a moment, Sam took it, and Dean pulled him to his feet. Dean walked over to his bed and sat down, Sam following him. "You're... You're Sam Winchester. I'm Dean Winchester. We --"

Sam looked around the room, then his eyes went wide. "We're in a motel together... I don't have a shirt on... Oh my god..."

"What?" Dean asked quickly, his eyes going wide at the thought of Sam thinking way of course.

"Are we... Are we... together?" Sam asked, whispering the last part as he looked back at Dean.

"No!" Dean said, standing up quickly. "No, no, no! We're brothers! We're brothers!"

"Oh!" Sam said quickly, nodding. "You know what? That makes sense. But... Why am I without a shirt?"

"You were about to take a shower before you were... Er... before you hit your head," Dean said, nodding. He looked at Sam's hair, noticing it was wet. "No. That's not right. You took a shower then hit your head while you were getting dressed... Yes..."

Sam looked doubtful. "Okay..."

"You... You trust me, right?" Dean asked, looking a bit hesitant. He silently prayed for Sam to trust him. Because if Sam didn't... well... all hell would break loose. "I mean... I get that you probably don't have much reason to... And you obviously don't remember me... But --"
"I trust you."

"What?"

Sam smiled slightly, nodding. "I don't know why... But there's something familiar about you... Something that makes me feel safe... Like I'm always protected... And I trust you."

Dean straightened up a bit, nodding. "Well, good. You should."

Sam smiled slightly, nodding. "And I'm sure that I'll get my memories back... Soon." Sam turned around on his bed and grabbed his shirt. He gasped, closing his eyes quickly.

"Sam?" Dean asked quickly. "Sammy?"

Sam opened his eyes, looking over at Dean slowly. "I tried to kill you... I yelled horrible things at you then shot you..."

Dean scratched the back of his head, nodding. "Yeah. Yeah, you did."

"Why would I do that?" Sam asked, looking away from Dean. He shook his head. "I don't understand... If we're brothers... why would I want to kill you?"

"I... I don't know..." Dean looked down at the ground for a moment, then back at Sam. "I... I think it's because you hate me."

Sam shook his head quickly, looking over at Dean. "No."

"What?" Dean asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Look, Dean, I may not remember what the hell happened in my life and I may not remember growing up with you as my brother, but I don't hate you. I don't know you, but I don't hate you. Somewhere... something inside knows you. I can feel what it feels. I look at you... and I don't doubt that you're my brother. There's something there... I just can't reach it," Sam said, looking Dean in the eye.

Dean looked back at his brother, and swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat. He nodded, and sighed slightly. "Alright. I... I get it. I understand... I trust what you supposedly feel. But you... you don't hate me?"

Sam shook his head and smiled slightly. "No. I don't hate you. I would say that four letter word, but I'm getting the impression you're not the kind of guy that likes... well --"

"Chick Flick moments?" Dean asked, raising his eyebrows. "You're good." He looked around, then sighed slightly. "Well, Sammy --"

"Sam."

"What?"

"Sam."

Dean smiled slightly, nodding. "Well, Sam, we need to go find the --- um... We need to go figure out how to fix your head."

"Right. Fix my head," Sam said, nodding. "But can't it... can't it wait?"

Dean narrowed his eyes at Sam, suspicious yet curious. "What, you don't want to get your memories back?"

"I feel like a movie. Don't you?"

"Uh..." Dean thought for a moment, staring at Sam like he was crazy. He shook his head. "No. Now let's go." He walked over to the door and opened it. "Get your shirt on. We have business to take of."

Sam: Figures.

Dean: What?

Sam: I can't even remember what happened an hour ago and you already want to go on a hunt.

Dean: Hey, blame Haley, not me. ... Besides... I obviously just want my brother back. Is that such a crime?

Haley: Can both ya'll do me a tiny little bitty favour?

Dean & Sam: What?

Haley: Shut up.