AN: Sorry took so long for the new chapter, but I didn't like the original one I wrote, so I decided to rewrite it. I hope you enjoy.

What chapter is this again? Oh yeah lol...

Chapter 3

Dean's left butt cheek began falling asleep. Sighing in annoyance he adjusted himself so that his right butt cheek was now taking the brunt of the uncomfortable hospital chair he was sitting in. Sam was sitting across from him, elbow resting on the arm of the chair, head in hand. In between them was the hospital bed that Dorian was lying in.

The grime from the smoke had been cleared from her face. Her dirt clodded clothes had been replaced with a hospital gown. Her head was slightly lolled to the side and an oxygen tube was helping her breathe while she was asleep.

Dean had silently thanked God for the fireman getting to Dorian before she plunged to her death. The doctor had told them that she had suffered a slight concussion from hitting her head on the ride. Add smoke inhalation to the mix and they had an answer as to why Dorian passed out.

Of course that was almost twelve hours ago and she was still unconscious. The good ol' doc said she would be fine, but that didn't stop Dean's heart from skipping a beat every moment she was out.

He looked over at Sam and saw his brother's eyes drooping. He was tired. Beyond tired. He had suffered smoke inhalation and the paramedics had made him suck on oxygen for a while. When they had arrived at the hospital the doctors wanted to keep him overnight for observation, but Sam had kindly, if not adamantly, declined.

"Why don't you go back to the motel," Dean said, knowing Sam needed rest. "There's no point in both of us being here."

Sam sat up straighter in the chair. "I'm fine."

"You're exhausted."

"I'm fine."

"Sam."

"Dean."

"You need to rest."

"I'm not leaving."

Dorian's voice cut through the air. "You both need to stop arguing."

They both jumped out of their seats and leaned closer to her.

"Hey," Sam said, smiling slightly. "Welcome back."

She squinted her eyes and looked over at him. "I didn't know I'd gone anywhere."

"You've been out for twelve hours," Dean informed her. "You got a concussion from that stunt you pulled."

She brought her gaze to him, confusion etched into her features. "Stunt?"

"You don't remember?" Dean asked. She shook her head.

"It's not uncommon with a concussion," Sam said, worry rimming the edges of his words. "The ride at the theme park caught on fire."

"Theme park?" She shook her head again. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Dorian," Dean said. She continued looking at Sam. "Dorian."

She turned her head to look at him. "I'm sorry were you talking to me?"

Dean looked at Sam worriedly. He brought his gaze back to her. "You're the only Dorian I know."

"Dorian?" She asked. That didn't sound familiar to her.

Sam swallowed the lump in his throat. "Do you know who we are?"

"No, I'm sorry I don't."

Doctor Warner walked out of Dorian's room. Dean pushed himself off the wall, his brother mimicking his motion. They quickly walked up to him.

"So?" Dean asked.

"So," Dr. Warner said, sticking his pen in his pocket. "She's got temporary amnesia. It's from the concussion."

"You said temporary," Dean said. "As in not permanent right?"

Dr. Warner smiled. "No, it's not permanent. She should regain her memory in a few days. I would say two weeks tops. It will most likely come back to her pieces at a time, but in the end she'll have all her memories back."

"So what do we do in the meantime?" Sam asked.

"Well, we'll keep her one more night for observation. You can take her home in the morning and then just do what you normally do. Don't change her routines, but remind her of them and let her carry them out."

"Not so easy," Dean said sardonically. He knew they couldn't just go back out and hunt the nasty things that went bump in the night. Not with Dorian the way she was. She'd wind up getting killed.

"We're on a road trip," Sam said quickly. "The theme park was just a stop on the way through. We don't have a routine."

Dr. Warner nodded in understanding. "I see where that could be complicated. "I would suggest staying in a motel for a few days, just to make sure she's all right. After that continue you're road trip. Go by what you've planned. It's the best thing for her right now."

Dorian looked in the mirror. Her long red hair was laid in waves and strange green eyes stared back at her. She touched the thing white scar on her face, wondering where it came from. She wondered about the rest of her scars as well. The faded blue jeans and green shirt were old, but they seemed new to her. Everything was alien. She couldn't even get used to her name.

"I heard you were awake," A voice said behind her.

Startled, she jumped and spun around. A man with dark shaggy hair that fell into deep blue eyes stood before her. A large white bandage stood out on his forehead. He was wearing a pair of blue jeans and a black shirt. His sharp, handsome features made him stand out, but he, like everything else, was not something she remembered.

"I"m sorry," He said. "I didn't mean to scare you."

She shrugged. "It's all right. I'm sorry, but do I know you?"

"Not really," He replied, shoving his hands nervously into his pockets. "Well I mean yes. You saved my life on the ride. My life and my sister's."

Dorian nodded. Sam and Dean had told her about the fiasco at the amusement park. She hadn't believed she had actually done something so crazy, but standing in front of her was apparent proof. "I'm glad you're both all right."

"My names Brett." He extended his hand.

She shook it. "Dorian." She rolled her eyes. "At least so I'm told."

Brett's eyebrows knitted together, worry filling his blue eyes. "I don't understand."

Dorian plopped down on the bed, sighing heavily. She figured telling yet another stranger, although apparently he really was a stranger, that she couldn't remember who she was wouldn't be a big deal. "I have amnesia from whatever happened." She leaned back on her elbow. "They tell me my names Dorian. It doesn't sound familiar, but supposedly that's who I am. Dorian Adams." She shrugged. "Could be worse I suppose. It could be Myrtle or something horrible like that."

Brett smiled. "I'm sorry you can't remember. I should have just waited for the firemen to come up the ladder. They got everyone down safely. We were the only ones who got hurt."

"That's good to know at least." She realized what she said and sat up. "I mean not that we got hurt, but that no body else got hurt."

"I knew what you meant." He nervously ran a hand through his hair. "Look, I was wondering if I could take you out to dinner. I mean to thank you for saving my life and everything."

She smirked at his nervousness. Dorian didn't know him, but then again she didn't even know herself. "I don't think that would be such a good idea. I mean I'm supposed to go back to the motel and rest. Not that I really want to, but Doc's orders."

"Oh, right, I mean that was a stupid thing to ask, knowing your getting out today and all." He shifted on his feet, not really knowing how to stand, or at the very least not wanting to stand still. "I just wanted to show you some gratitude for saving my life."

Dorian saw the disappointment in his face and sighed. She didn't want to make him feel bad. She just didn't think going out was a good idea. She didn't know her own name, if she had any brothers, or sisters, or even where her parents were. What would she talk about with him? She realized she didn't even know her own favorite color.

Dorian was alone in herself and that scared her. Dean and Sam knew the person she was. Or at least the person she used to be before all of this happened. She was a stranger to herself. Without memories, or knowledge of herself or her friends, Dorian was hollow inside.

"Look," She said, avoiding his gaze. She didn't want to see the pain in them. She already had enough of her own. "If it were under different circumstances I would love to have dinner with you, but right now..." She sighed. "Well let's just say I would love to get to know you, but I can't do that until I know myself."

He waved her off. "I understand, really. Maybe in a couple of days, if you're feeling better?"

There was so much hope in his voice that she couldn't turn him down. "Yeah, we'll see what happens."

Brett left his phone number with her and turned to leave, passing Dean and Sam on the way out.

"What was that about?" Dean asked walking over to her. He glanced over his shoulder, glaring at Brett's back.

"That was Brett," Dorian explained. "The man I helped on the ride. He wanted to take me out to dinner tonight."

"He what?" Dean asked incredulously.

Dorian shrugged. "He just wanted to thank me for saving his life."

"You said no, right," Dean practically yelled.

She shrunk in on herself. She wondered if this was how Dean always acted towards her. For some reason his yelling scared her. She wanted to cower and hide and she had no idea why. "I told him no," She confirmed in a whisper.

Dean, being able to read Dorian better than anyone else, saw the way she was standing. Her shoulders were practically covering her ears she was so hunched, and she was hugging herself tight enough to cut off circulation.

Sighing he walked over and sat next to her on the bed. He hadn't meant to scare her. "I didn't mean to yell. It's just not a good idea so soon after you getting out of the hospital."

She nodded and spared him a frightened glance. "I know. That's why I told him no."

Dean threw an arm around her shoulders. Her body tensed even more, not that he thought it was possible, but apparently it was. He looked up at his brother, trying to hide the pain in his eyes. He didn't know what to do. This was Dorian, but she didn't know that. It was like they were strangers all over again.

Then again, he realized they had been strangers the past few months. Ever since her possession Dorian had been pulling away. The amnesia had only made it worse. He reminded himself that it was only temporary. She would have her memories back soon and maybe, just maybe after all of this, some of the old Dorian would come out.

"Come on, Dorian," Sam said. "Let's get you out of here."

She smiled up at him. "Sounds like a good idea to me."

Dorian walked into the small motel room. The carpet was an ugly green, the walls were an even uglier shade of yellow white, and the beds looked worse than the hospitals. There was a small television and a table, and none of it made her feel any more comfortable in her skin right now.

"This isn't supposed to look familiar right?"

Sam laughed. "No, not this particular room. We've stayed in a lot of motel rooms. There all generally ugly, but no two look exactly the same."

"That's not exactly comforting," She replied, walking over and sitting on the bed. She looked around. "So is this my room or your guys?"

"It's all of ours," Dean said, plopping on the bed next to her. She abruptly stood up and turned to face him.

"Wait, I thought you said we were all just friends."

Sam nodded and sat down on the other bed. "We are, but you and Dean have always shared a bed."

"Why?" She asked slowly. It wasn't that she didn't trust them. Oh hell, yes it was. She didn't even know if she could trust herself right now. They were just two alien faces in a strange world. She had no idea who she could trust.

Dean propped himself up on his elbow. Sighing he said, "You didn't exactly come from the best of homes."

A chill crept up her spine. "Is that where I got the scars from?" It had been lingering on her mind, but she didn't exactly know how to ask the question.

"Most of them," Sam replied tentatively. He and Dean had known that this subject would come up. It wasn't her father that they were so worried about. It was how she had gotten the other scars, the scars that dear old daddy hadn't left on her.

She took a deep shuddering breath. "Is that why we travel? So my family can't find me?"

"No," Dean said. "You're mother died when you were a child."

Swallowing the lump in her throat she asked, "And my father?"

"Died in a fire." Dean was careful with his words. He didn't think that Dorian was ready to hear that she was a witch and her mother's spirit and burned her father from the inside out.

She narrowed her eyes. "What aren't you telling me?"

Sam couldn't help but smirk. "Even when she has amnesia she can tell when we're keeping something from her."

"And I'd like to know exactly what it is you're keeping from me."

TBC...

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