I could hear talking, but couldn't quite make out what anyone was saying. I was still so tired. Then I heard my name, or what they told me was my name, and I stilled. My mind went blank and my ears strained as I tried to make out what was being said.
"Don't you think you're being a little harsh?" I heard Sam say. His voice was all strong concern, no wavering uncertainty. I liked his voice.
Then it was Dean's sandpaper voice that said, "You think this is easy for me Sammy? She got hurt, you're doing the trials. It's like everything I try to do turns wrong." I didn't know what it was about the gruffness he spoken in, but it was frightening and soothing all at once.
"I get it Dean, but this has got to be a confusing time for Lou and you're not making it any better." I wanted to pipe up that Sam was right, but then they would know I was eavesdropping.
"I don't know how to help her Sammy. I don't know how to make it right." There was a long silence. Then Dean's voice came again, almost making me jump. "Morning Sunshine." My eyes flew open and heat flooded my cheeks. I tried to push up onto my arms but pain shot through my side and my head so I settled back down.
"Hi." I squeaked out. I cleared my throat, "Where are we?" Sam turned in his seat so that he was facing me.
"Well, we are about 3 hours away from home." He answered matter-a-factly.
"Why can't you tell me what is happening until we get home?" My voice was annoyingly quite, but Sam just smiled. His big toothy grin was contagious and I had this feeling that he didn't smile like that often enough. I saw Dean's harsh green eyes staring at me in the rearview mirror again. He had grown dark circles under his eyes, but he seemed just as focused.
"Home for us is a little strange. We just don't want to freak you out or overload you with information. We are also hoping that Cas will be able to help with your memory." Sam answered sweetly, but I knew he was holding back for a lot of reasons.
"Who is Cas? And how long have we been driving? And why is Dean mad at me? And what are the trials?" I could feel the normalcy on my tongue as I fired questions like a gun fires bullets. Dean barked a laugh. I scowled at the back of his head.
"Cas is a friend. Before your head thing, you trusted him." I nodded as Sam spoke. "We've also been driving for about 5 hours."
"I'm not mad at you Lou, this is just a shit situation. Trust me please Sunshine." Dean seemed sincere. They were all very big on trust, but it's hard to trust what you can't remember.
The car was silent for a long time and it didn't escape my notice that my last question wasn't answered. I let it go, maybe it was one of the things they would tell me when we got home. I felt my eyes getting heavy again. I decided sleep was better than silence. I pulled my knees up to my chest, the leather of the seat sticking to my bare arm. Then I was gone.
I woke up with the vague feeling of loss. I couldn't remember what I was dreaming about but it seemed so important at the time. I looked at the back of then boys' heads as I opened my eyes. Sam's head was tilted like he was asleep in the passenger's seat. Before I could even open my mouth, Dean spoke up. "We are about half an hour away," he said softly.
"How did you know I was awake?" I asked. I looked in the rearview mirror and saw what looked like a smile on his face, but I couldn't be sure, it was dark in the car.
"You're not exactly quite Lou." Dean said. His voice sounded light and almost happy. I was glad he didn't seem mad anymore, but I could still feel the remaining questions and answers lingering in the air making it thick and hard to breath. "Still got questions?" Dean asked as if he could read my mind.
"Look Dean, it's great that you and your brother are like my family, but I can't remember anything. I feel like I know you and should probably trust you, but I can't bring myself to do that." I breathed the words. They were soothing and burning all at the same time. I pushed myself up to a sitting position in the back seat, ignoring the stabbing pain in my side. I saw that the road was devoid of all other cars and in the light of the car's headlights I could make out fields that framed the road. I could finally hear what was playing on the car's radio. I couldn't remember what the song was called but I got a flash of an imagine of Dean singing to it.
I continued, "I just, Dean I'm scared." The last part was whispered. Suddenly the car came to a slamming stop, throwing me and Sam forward in our seats. I caught myself before my whole body was in the front seat, but yelled out as I felt something tear at my side. Dean cursed something too low for me to hear and stormed out of the car, slamming the door behind him. Sam looked dazed at the scene that just woke him up.
With tears pricking my eyes, I reached for the door handle and took a wobbled step out of the car. "Dean!" I called with no answer. It was so dark it was nearly impossible to see. The moon was only half of what it could have been. I took another wobbled limp away from the car and called for him again. Still nothing. I heard Sam call my name but I felt like I had to go after Dean. I limped further and further away from the car, and I could feel my side bleeding.
"Dean!" I called one more time. There were trees, an orchard maybe, all around me. I placed a hand on one of the trees.
"Son of a bitch!" I heard Dean yell. He sounded far away, but then again the blood pumping in my ears drowned out most sounds. I grabbed my left side and it came back cold and wet. I must have ripped stitches in my side. I leaned against the tree. Letting all my weight land on my right shoulder. My breath was labored and my head started to spin as my vision got blurry. Head rush, or passing out, or something. I yelled for Dean one more time. And then suddenly I was falling, but I never actually hit the ground. I landed in warm arms. I looked up to see a blurry Dean.
"You can't take off like that," I whispered. "I worry."
I think he smiled down at me as he said, "I know Sunshine, it won't happen again." I feel like he wanted to say more but I didn't catch it as the black crept in.
I realized as I woke up in a bed, that not only did I sleep a lot, I also fainted quite a bit. That realization made me feel helpless. I didn't remember what I was like before, but this me did not like feeling helpless. My second thought, was that I was in a bed, in a room, supposedly in a house. I was home, or what was meant to be my home. I was no longer wearing the T-shirt that I wore out of the hospital, but a much too big green flannel button up. I tentatively unbuttoned the shirt to look at my side. I had new bandages and I wasn't bleeding anymore. I figured I didn't actually rip my stitches then, otherwise I would have woken up in another hospital.
Thinking about this I got a flash of an imagine in my head. It must have been a bar or something because Sam was sitting on a pool table. The lighting was dim, and Sam's hair was shorter. He was drinking whiskey out of the bottle and his shoulder was bleeding. Then it was gone. I was back in the room. There was a desk and a trash can. There was a nightstand and a lamp. There was a bed. It was all grey and brown and bland. It felt like a comfortable jail cell. I couldn't imagine myself in any sense liking a room like this.
I pushed myself up, grunting. I swung my legs to the side of the bed, and saw, much to my surprise, crutches, resting against the nightstand. I thought about my right foot, wondering what exactly happened to it, but too afraid to look. I tested it by putting pressure on it, but it didn't feel like I could stand on it. I grabbed for the crutches, hoisting myself up onto them. It was painful, not my head or my side or my foot, but under my arms. How did people walk around with these pain sticks all day?
I gritted my teeth and moved out of the room, nearly falling over as I tried to open the heavy wooden door. Then I was in a grey hallway with doors lining the halls. It seemed like almost a kind of never ending maze. An imagine flashed of opening a door and there just being open air and I froze. Did that really happen to me? This no memory thing was really getting old.
I sighed and thought about what to do, then I realized that I didn't have to do anything alone. "Sam! Dean!" I called out. That was a mistake because there was heavy thudding coming quickly towards me and then the two men stung around the corner with guns pointed outwards at me. I screamed and fell backwards, into the room I had just exited.
Sam rushed to me, "What's wrong Lou?" He asked out of breath.
"Sweet Mother Mary Mercy, what the balls was that?" I asked quickly, not really knowing what I was saying. "Why do you guys have guns?" Dean, holstered his gun behind his back as he sighed. Sam had a confused look on his face.
"So you're okay?" Sam asked, looking over me.
I looked up at the man that reminded me of a giant dog, and said, "Well my ass hurts a little from falling, but I was just going to ask how to get around this place." I tried laughing, but it hurt badly enough for it to sound choked off and sad. Sam helped me to my feet, or foot and crutches.
"You can't yell for us like that Lou," Dean said sternly, watching me intently as I arranged myself in the least painful way. Sam had stepped away from me and I was left to stew in my embarrassment.
"Why not? You two are the psychos who ran in, literally guns blazing. You live in a house that looks like an underground jail. You won't tell me anything, and I'm kinda freaking out!" My voice got louder and louder as I talked. "I will yell if I damn well want to!" That one was nearly screamed. I sounded like a child, but I didn't let that get in the way.
Dean looked at me for a long time and there was complete silence for a long while. No one spoke, no one moved. Then he said, "Let's go to the kitchen, get some food in you." It didn't sound like a suggestion. I didn't really like being told what to do, but as he said the words I realized that I was starving. I followed the tall men slowly down the hallway. We made a few turns down hallways that looked exactly the same. It really was like a maze. We eventually made it to a large open area with books and tables and thinks that looked like very old computers. I was several paces behind the men on a count of I was walking with pain sticks under my arms.
The men lead me through the room, Dean waiting a long time for me to get to the door he was holding open for me. I entered a room that was covered in white tile with a large looking kitchen and a wooden table. I took a seat at the table, slightly out of breath, placing the crutches to the side. Sam sat at the seat opposite of me so the seat next to me was vacant. Dean started cooking something that I couldn't see from my seat.
Sam cleared his throat to break the silence. "I know that this is probably really difficult for you and really confusing." I look at him, knowing he was expecting me to be nice. Unfortunately for him, I had had it up to the ceiling with the secrets and the lies and Dean's mood swings.
"If I had anywhere else to go I'd leave," I spat at him, feeling slightly bad for the hurt puppy look that crossed Sam's face. At this comment Dean spun around.
"What the hell Lou?!" Dean started.
I cut him off, "Look, I know that we all had this weird ass life together, but I don't remember jack shit. What I do remember is that ever since I woke up at the hospital, you have been a son of a bitch, both of you have refused to tell me anything about my life other than my name and that I live here, and I had to chase you through the fucking woods because you decided to throw a temper tantrum." I was breathing heavily and clutching my side when I was done.
Dean looked at me and for a split second I couldn't help but think about how sexy he looked when he was mad. I shook the thought from my head and held on to the anger I felt. "For the love of god Lou can you just calm down!?" Dean yelled at me.
"No! I can't! It's like I'm a newborn Dean. I know nothing, but everyone around me knows everything! Just tell me what I want to know." I demanded. I thought about standing but then I thought about the sticks of pain gave me pause.
Sam and Dean shared a look then Dean sighed, crossed his arms in front of his chest and just staired. Sam ran a hand through his long hair and he refused to meet my eye. Finally after several long beats, Sam started talking.