Chapter 4: Track and Trace

Castiel could stare at Dean all day. That's nothing new. But studying the little changes in Dean's mannerisms is fascinating. Despite his peculiar situation, Dean is taking it well. There is an adventurous bounce to his steps, his shoulders are not weighted down by years of war, and he is smiling more. Castiel has always liked Dean's smile. It brings a boyish nature to his features that light up a room.

Even without his memories, he is still so very Dean. He speaks like him, thinks like him. He just seems… almost as if he were younger. A Dean who has not experienced death or apocalypses yet.

And that makes Castiel's heart ache so bad that he almost wishes that Dean could stay like this. Dean deserves to live without the pain and guilt that he has inflicted upon himself for so many years. Maybe it would be best to send him somewhere to live an ordinary life? A life without hunting or being hunted by evil. But it would also be a life without Sam. A life without Castiel. And it pains him to think it, but… thinking of the latter makes him sick. He does not want a life without Dean in it, no matter how selfish it may be. He tried it once, when Dean left to live with Lisa, and he ended up going down an awful path. And still, the life of hunting caught up with Dean. It probably always will. And if that is the case, Castiel wants Dean to be able to protect himself, especially if Castiel is not around to keep him safe.

Still, he can't bring himself to tell Dean everything about his past. It is true that it is a much too long story to tell. But Castiel is also afraid of how Dean might react. Despite that Dean right now seems to trust him, Castiel fears that his story will make Dean run away. It will be impossible to make Dean understand how his losses and sacrifices have been worth it, when he doesn't have the emotional connection anymore.

At first, Castiel had been surprised and scared when he learned that Dean had lost his memory in what seemed to be the same manner as the other victims.

While Dean was sleeping, Castiel had contemplated over and over how it could have happened. How it shouldn't have happened, how Castiel should have been there, how anything could have overpowered the hunter. And that is when a terrible thought had struck him; What if Dean wanted to forget? But no, he wouldn't be so careless… But if it had been a choice between Dean and an innocent, then Dean would have chosen amnesia if it would save the other.

Luckily, Dean was willing to cooperate when he woke up again. Not just that, but he had let his guards down enough to let Castiel heal him. Of course, Dean normally let him heal him, but not for something as simple as a bit of dizziness. Not even if the infection had evolved into a fever. Castiel knew all too well… But this Dean let him. And it felt incredible to be allowed to help for such a small thing. It was much more tender than their usual life-or-death healing.

And Castiel had ached for more.

It made it difficult not to stare at Dean as they walked down the street, soaking up all the smiles and openness. It made it difficult not to share small touches when possible. Amnesia-Dean had a lesser sense of personal space than Memory-Dean.

And then Dean had asked about their… status. It had taken everything for Castiel not to speak his mind. His heart. But he kept to the truth. That they are only friends.

Luckily, Dean's inner hunter had stepped up before Castiel could read more into the question and the fallen look on Dean's face at Castiel's answer. Dean's logic to investigate the bar was sound, especially considering that they found the Impala right outside. It could, however, also just be that Dean of yesterday wanted to get a drink during his investigation. But this was where Dean had woken up this morning, and right now, it was their only lead.

The bar is small but well-kept compared to many of the places Dean has taken him throughout time. Only a few people, who seems to be local regulars, sit scattered around the place. Normally when they enter Dean's preferred places, the locals will eye them warily, but here they are greeted with smiles and nods. Everyone in this city is very nice and Castiel appreciates that.

Dean goes straight up to the bar, confident as ever. "Hey there."

The bartender, a man who could resemble Santa Claus, looks up. "Hello again."

"Again?" Dean frowns.

"Yes, you were here yesterday, don't you remember?" The bartender laughs.

"Well, now that you mention it. I don't." Dean smiles easily.

Castiel steps up next to him, a little closer than normally. "Hello, Mr…?"

"George. Just call me George." The bartender smiles.

"George." Castiel repeats as he digs out his badge. "I am agent Rich Williams, FBI. Are you familiar with the string of cases related to amnesia in town?"

George immediately stands attention. "Yes sir. It's a small town. People talk."

"Well, unfortunately my partner here is the latest victim, so we are trying to find out what happened last night." Castiel leaves out Dean's name or cover, as he doesn't know if or how Dean might have introduced himself last night.

"Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that." George turns to Dean.

"Yeah, it's been a weird day." Dean admits with a crooked smile. "Could use a drink."

"Of course." George automatically turns and grabs a bottle of whiskey. "You seemed quite happy with this one yesterday. Want to give it another try?"

Dean clasps his hands together expectantly, but before George can pour the whiskey into a glass, Castiel puts his hand on top of it. "That is… very kind of you, George, but we are here on official business."

George immediately pulls back the whiskey and glass with an understanding apology. Dean glares as Castiel with a muttered 'spoilsport'. It is a very typical reaction of Dean, and yet very atypical, as Dean would never have let Castiel stop him from having a drink this easily. As soon as George has cleared the table, Castiel continues; "What can you tell us about last night, besides what my partner was drinking?"

"Well, he came in, and asked about Johnathan. I told him that Johnathan was in here a couple of weeks ago, and that he seemed a bit blue, you know. Said that he and the wife had a fight. I told him it would be alright. So, he just had a few drinks and then he left."

"Did you tell this to the cops?" Dean asks.

George laughs. "You asked me the same question yesterday. And no, I didn't. I didn't hear about Johnathan until after he got out of the hospital, so I didn't realise that it was the exact night that he lost his memory. And since he didn't remember being here, no one ever made the connection, before you, Phil."

So Dean used his cover name. Good to know. Castiel nods. "Yes, agent Ehart is very good at his job." Dean preens a bit at his words. "What did agent Ehart do after he talked to you about Johnathan Parker?"

"Had a few drinks, and then he talked a bit with Minnie. Seemed to be having a really good talk if you know what I mean?" George bounces his bushy brows suggestively.

Castiel swallows the bitter taste in his mouth. "Does this Minnie have a last name?"

"Sorry, agent, I don't know. She's fairly new to town. But she works down at the bookstore. It's open for another 15 minutes if you want to try to catch her there."

Dean jumps enthusiastically. "Great! That's a lead, right? Let's go!"

Castiel smiles stiffly. They need to investigate this, of course, but it might just as well be one of Dean's conquests. "Maybe." He turns back to George. "You don't happen to remember if Minnie was here on the same day as Johnathan Parker?"

George thinks for a moment. "No, I don't. Sorry."

-.-.-.-

Dean is excited to get to drive the 'seriously coolest car ever, Cas'. Castiel is not quite sure that it is a good idea at first, but they need to get to the bookstore before it closes. Luckily, the memory of driving is as intact as the memory of the television, and Dean smoothly guides them to their destination, a relaxed boyish grin in place on his face. His fingers drum the beat of the song in the radio on the steering wheel, and everything just looks so painfully normal.

Castiel does not want to enter the bookstore. He knows that it is necessary, and he hopes that this will bring them closer to the solution to Dean's memory. But he fears that all they will find is yet another woman who looks at Dean like a piece of meat. Though Dean doesn't mind, Castiel never likes it when anyone eyes Dean like that. Dean is… so much more.

A bell announces their presence when they enter. It is a classic little bookstore kept in an old-fashion style with heavy wooden bookcases. It is clear that the store keeps both new and old books, some book spines straight and glossy while others bear the wrinkles of use. Castiel immediately likes it. Even in times where technology is trying to take over, humans still value and treasure these artifacts.

"Well, this is… nice." Dean looks around at the books with the same wariness as he always has. He does not mind the books, as long as no one makes him read them.

Before Castiel can answer, he senses a powerful presence. He immediately turns towards its origin, which seems to come from a backroom behind the counter. Before he can think any more of it, a woman enters the room. She is quite beautiful with olive skin and long, thick dark hair. She wears a dark green blouse and a shiny golden neckless with a nine-pointed star-shaped pendant.

For just a second, she stops in her step, but quickly catches herself and gives them a big smile. "Hello. Can I help you?"

Dean immediately steps forward. "Yeah, uhm, we are looking for Minnie?"

The woman is about to answer, but Castiel will not allow a charade to ensue. "She is Minnie, Dean. Except, she is not human."

Minnie's smile freezes for just a second, but then it turns into a confident smirk instead. "Not bad, Angel. If I had sensed you earlier, I would have concealed myself. You are not really at full power, are you?"

Castiel tries to ignore the penetrating stare from Minnie, feeling as if she is measuring his remaining grace and how easy it might be to take him out. Dean looks confused between the two of them. After gaping for a moment, he settles on looking at Minnie while pointing at Castiel. "Wha… You know that he's an Angel?"

Minnie laughs while eying Dean. "Oh Handsome, you are very cute like this."

Castiel bristles but tries to keep calm as he explains to Dean. "Some supernatural beings can sense one another. 'Minnie' here must be powerful enough to sense my true being, as well as I can sense her power."

"Indeed." Minnie smiles. "If I knew you were here with Handsome, I would have come looking for you sooner, Angel. An eternity of memories would have been a delicious addition to my collection."

Dean takes a few steps back from the counter, standing by Castiel's side instead. "You're the one who stole my memory?"

"Handsome and clever." Minnie all but purrs. "Though 'stole' is not the word I would use."

Castiel lowers his head and glares as Minnie. "Give Dean his memories back."

"Oh, Angel." Minnie walks around the counter, fingers dragging along the smooth surface until she is standing right in front of them. "If Handsome wants his memories back, all he has to do, is to be ready to remember what he wanted to forget."

Both Dean and Castiel frown at this, casting a questioning look at each other. Dean is the first one to verbalise their confusion. "That doesn't make any sense. I'm ready! I want to remember!"

"Apparently, not quite." Minnie smiles.

"What is that supposed mean?" Dean growls.

"That's up to you, Handsome."

Castiel summons a bit of his grace to the surface to emphasise his words. "I said, give-"

But before he can continue, Minnie cuts him off. "Yes, dear Angel, I remember what you said the first time. Repeating it will not change the fact that I cannot help you. Now, if you will excuse me…"

And in a flash of yellow, she disappears.

Dean jumps back, surprised by the sudden display of magic. "What the hell? Cas- what?- Where did she go?"

Castiel runs behind the counter and into the room in the back. He does not find Minnie there, but a room lined by desks with newly arrived books. The surprising thing, however, is that every available spot on both the desks and the floor, is filled with different kinds of flowers.

Dean has followed him and almost bumps into his back when he enters the small backroom. "What the… I thought this was a bookstore, not a flower shop."

"It is." Castiel steps further into the room. "I believe this is Minnie's doing."

"So? What chick doesn't like flowers?" Dean wrinkles his nose. "It smells very… flowery."

"It's mainly the rosemary." Castiel gestures to the herb.

"You like flowers too, huh?" Dean asks, playfully poking at some pink carnations.

"I watched God create everything on Earth, including the flowers. I remember every single one of them." Castiel starts pointing around the room. "White tulips, Zinnias, Alcea roseas, Forget-Me-Nots… Wait…"

"Whoa, rewind, Cas. God? God is real?"

Castiel ignores Dean's interruption. "All these flowers. They symbolise remembrance of some kind."

Dean looks sceptically at all the plants surrounding them. "Yeah, alright. So?"

"So, I think I know who we are dealing with."

Dean turns to him, arms spread in question. "What? How? The flowers told you?"

Castiel sighs. "I do not speak with flora, Dean. But all these flowers, the obsession with memory, and her neckless indicates that we could be dealing with the Goddess Mnemosyne."

Dean frowns at Castiel's back as the Angel keeps digging around the mess of books and plants on the tables. Dean is quiet for a moment, but not for a lack of questions. The problem is that his head is spinning so fast that he doesn't know where to start. He had accepted the whole Angel thing, but… Gods? Including, apparently, the original Almighty God? And women disappearing in yellow light, and books, and flowers, and-and-and-and… Is this really his life? Finally, his mind settles on the useless question; "So, this Goddess Memo-something?"

"Mnemosyne." Castiel pronounces flawlessly.

"Yeah, that." Dean wets his lips nervously. "She's into flowers?"

"Deities are often closely connected to nature."

"But you are sure that it is this Memo-chick?"

Apparently, Castiel is done correcting him. "Like I said, everything points towards a relation to memory. But her neckless adds to the evidence. I don't know if you noticed the nine-pointed star pendant she wore?" When Dean shakes his head, Castiel continues. "It is a symbol of the nine muses. Mnemosyne is their mother."

"Whoa… nine kids, huh?" For some reason, Dean can't help these comments coming out of his mouth. It's like it has a mind of his own while his brain is trying to catch up.

"She was also one of the Titans. Clearly very powerful."

Dean swallows again. He feels a bit hot in the small room. "Is this something we do often? Deal with gods?"

"You'd be surprised." Castiel smiles tiredly, finally looking up from all the flowery, booky mess.

Dean nods, even though he doesn't quite understand. "So, why is a Greek Goddess in the States? And why now?"

Castiel continues perusing the contents of the table. "Since the Apocalypse, creatures have travelled from their usual hunting grounds all around the World. You wouldn't believe what we have faced. Maybe someone summoned her, or something in the town just drew her here."

"Well, what does she want?" Dean flaps his arms a bit helplessly.

"I don't know." Castiel takes a step closer to him, looking imploringly at him. "But we will find an answer. I promise."

Dean looks into those pleading, blue eyes. There's so much sincerity in them, and so much… Yeah, Dean doesn't know what to call it. But whatever it is, it captivates him, and for a long moment, they just stand there, staring. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Dean knows that this should be uncomfortable. They are standing much too close, staring much too long. He gets that feeling again, like Castiel is staring into his soul, and he can't decide whether it feels like an invasion or a caress.

Suddenly, Dean notices that he has been swaying a bit forward, as if being drawn in. But, as soon as he realises it, he catches himself, but doesn't pull back. This isn't right, is it? He already asked, and Castiel said that they were just friends. And the guy is an actual Angel! So why does Dean feel like this? This is wrong. So, so wrong.

Dean barely finishes his panicky thoughts, before a flash of pain runs through his head. He winces and grabs at his head. Somewhere distant, he hears Castiel calling his name, but he barely registers it over the images that flash through his mind. It is so quick and painful that nothing sticks, except that he sometimes recognises Castiel.

The flashes finally stop. He opens his eyes, realising that he is kneeling on the floor. He would probably have fallen completely if it wasn't for Castiel holding him up.

"Dean? Dean, are you okay?" It almost falls like a prayer next to Dean's right ear if it wasn't so full of worry.

Dean puts his hand over one holding his shoulder, both to comfort Castiel, but also to ground himself. "I'm okay. I'm okay." His voice doesn't sound overly convincing, but at least he is in control of it again.

"Oh, thank God." The hand squeezes Dean's shoulder. "What happened?"

"I don't know. Everything just suddenly hurt, and all these things just ran through my head." Dean lifts his hand to vaguely indicate his head.

"Did you remember something?"

Castiel sounds hopeful, and Dean feels sad to disappoint him. "No, not really. It was just pictures of random things. I can't recall any of it. But I think I saw you, so, maybe?"

"Maybe Mnemosyne was telling the truth when she said you still have the chance of recalling your memories." Castiel gives Dean one last concerned look and then stands up. "Come on. Let's get you back to the motel to rest." Dean takes the hand extended to him and gets up. As soon as Dean is steady on his feet, Castiel looks around the room. "Maybe all these flowers and herbs helped trigger something. We should bring some of them back."

While Castiel quickly picks a bit of everything, Dean rubs his head. That was a seriously weird experience. He is trying to recall anything that he saw, but it felt like seeing something for the first time too quickly to match it with anything he already knew, so the imagines disappeared as quickly as sand through his fingers. The only images that somewhat remain are of Castiel. Castiel on a bench with a wistful smile on his face. Castiel with a beard, all muddy and dirty, looking surprised. Castiel in some sort of blue vest, also looking surprised.

The images of Castiel are fairly clear, but everything around him was fuzzy, and it was more like still-photos than actual moving memories.

Dean is so caught up in trying to keep these glimpses in his mind that he doesn't notice that Castiel has stopped collecting the flowers and is now looking him over, frowning. "Is your chest hurting?"

Dean opens his eyes, not realising he had closed them, and frowns back at the Angel. "No?"

Castiel looks unsure of his answer but nods anyway. As soon as Castiel turns his back to walk out of the backroom, Dean looks down himself. He hadn't realised that he had only been moving with his right hand. The left is firmly placed over his solar plexus. Even as he stands there, knowing that he should move it, he hesitates. It just feels right, and yet…

This is stupid. He pulls his hand away, ignoring how cold the spot suddenly feels.