A/N: I don't own anything! Not The Vow (or any other chick flick which inspired this story), the boys of Supernatural, the medical research I did for this... nothing! Sad, really, because I like writing smart, haha.

Chapter 4

Kelsey Livingston couldn't remember the last time she had felt this frustrated with herself. Actually, she couldn't remember anything since before she woke up in the hospital, with strange people staring at her. People she was supposed to know.

It had been three days since she had woken up. She knew that much, assuming that what her doctor had said was true. She also knew she had been asleep for at least a week. Medically induced coma, she had been told. Medication pumping through her veins to keep her sleeping while she healed.

She took a slow breath as she began to slowly slide her eyes over her new environment. The plain but harsh white walls, the only colour being the pale blue of her hospital blankets and gown. The slow but somehow comforting beep of her heart monitor calmed her slightly, allowing her to keep track of her own heart beats. The monitor's sound was so real, even though none of this felt real.

When she had awoken, after she had asked who the couple was, confusion had spread across their faces, and possibly hurt, as if she should've remembered them. Kelsey supposed that maybe she should've felt guilty. Instead, she had felt slight panic, confusion, frustration - she didn't know who they were, she didn't know why they were there.

"Was anyone else hurt?" She had asked, once she had been told about the accident in simple details, but with enough information to comprehend exactly why she was where she was.

"Your friend, Dean." Doctor Thompson had responded, motioning with her head towards the couple. "John and Mary's son. But he's at home now, resting up."

Now, three days later, after Kelsey had been given time to wrap her head around the information and the mandatory medical tests had been run, she found herself in the Family Room of the south hospital wing. The room, used by doctors who were giving families information about their loved ones, was meant to be comforting. Outfitted with soft couches, and a variety of books, toys and magazines, and currently empty of anyone else, it was here where Thompson was sitting down with Kelsey, John and Mary.

"It's called Retrograde amnesia," Thompson explained as she took a seat in the plush chair opposite of the couch that Kelsey was currently sitting on. Beside her, sat Mary Winchester, as she had introduced herself to Kelsey. Her blonde hair had been pulled up into a loose ponytail, her eyes darkening by a clear lack of sleep. On Mary's other side was her husband, John, his own dark eyes focused on the doctor. Dark stubble coated his lower jaw and chin, obviously having avoided the use of a razor in a while.

"Pretty much, in simple terms, Kelsey is having difficulty recalling stored memories. Like your names, or something that might've happened last year. Forgetfulness is also a common side effect. It's caused by the brain being moved around harshly during traumatic events."

"So, how long does this last?" John answered, gruffly. He flinched immediately after, not meaning the harsh tone, but lack of sleep, answering endless questions from both doctors and his sons and spending hours at the hospital was starting to get to him. God, he really hated hospitals.

"John!" Mary snapped her attention to him, feeling his tone was uncalled for.

Thompson waved her hand, excusing the attitude. It's not like negative responses were anything new to a doctor, especially when dealing with a serious situation involving a loved one. "It could be a few days to a couple weeks to months. It depends on a number of factors. Routine, stimuli, the severity of the injury."

Kelsey, sitting quietly, listened, gently brushing her fingers over the bandage on her forehead that covered a rather long cut. Her head was hurting from the information, frustration and thinking.

"So, what? I just... look at pictures, and boom, I'm all better?"

Thompson shifted her attention to her patient and shook her head. "It's not that easy. It won't come right away." Pausing, she leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees and gave Kelsey a gentle smile. "It's going to get frustrating, and you'll probably forget things, even if someone just told you it five minutes ago. But remember, it's normal. Especially after the trauma you went through. You just need to remember to take a breath, and a step back. It'll come."

"You were talking about stimuli." Mary inquired. "What do you mean?"

"Sometimes, a powerful enough stimuli can trigger a certain memory," Thompson explained, tucking a dark lock of hair that had fallen free from her ponytail, behind her ear. "A photo, a song. Anything, really. I'd suggest that maybe Kelsey, when she's feeling up to it, take a look at some photos. See what happens. And get back to her normal routine as best as she can."

Flipping open the cover of the blue clipboard she had brought with her, Thompson consulted a chart inside. "Meanwhile, Kelsey, you're healing physically well enough that we can release you later this afternoon. We'll give you some painkillers that you can take at home for your head and ribs. But you need to take it easy. That means no heavy lifting, no exercise, and no driving until I give you the all clear."

Kelsey swallowed as she nodded, still gently fingering the bandage. "Where will I go?"

"You'll come home with us," Mary explained gently, avoiding wrapping an arm around the young girl. When she had done it earlier, Kelsey had immediately tensed up and stepped away out of Mary's hold. "John and I. You have your own room and everything."

Kelsey shifted her gaze from the blonde to the dark haired man hesitantly. She didn't know them. How was she supposed to just get into their car and go to their place? What if they were serial killers? Wasn't it always the innocent looking people who turned out to be total nutcases?

"We're not going to hurt you," Mary reassured her with a tender smile, trying to be as calm and motherly with the girl as she could. It would be so important as Kelsey healed that she learned to trust them again. "Dean and Sam are at home right now, and they'll be happy to help you get settled."

Kelsey volleyed her gaze between the couple and Doctor Thompson, letting her hands drop to her lap, where she folded them. Biting on her lip tenderly, she nodded in agreement. "Okay."

Later that evening, Kelsey climbed out of the silver pickup truck and just took a minute to observe the house they had stopped in front of.

Two stories high with white paneling, it definitely looked like a home that a typical American family would live in. The porch was large, with a thick, ten-foot pillar, painted white, on each side of the steps. To the left was a large, picture window, above an empty garden. Winter, of course, was the reason there was nothing living in the frozen soil at the moment. Dark drapes blocked any light from the living room to light up the house at the moment, with dark brown shutters framing each of the windows on the top floor.

"Do you grow flowers?"

"Mmhmm." Mary confirmed with a hum. "In the spring, I like to grow a bit of everything. Daffodils, roses, whatever." Shutting the truck door closed, Mary shouldered Kelsey's duffle bag, intending to add it to the load of laundry that was waiting for her inside and motioned with her head in the direction of the house. "Come on, it's cold out here."

Kelsey followed the adults up to the porch, watching John pull out a set of keys and slide a silver one into the lock of a dark brown door, a large square window decorated in gold lines, curved and twisting throughout the glass.

"Boys, we're home!" John called, stamping his boots free of snow and moved out of the way to let the girls in and to remove his outerwear. "Jeez, it's cold out there."

"Hey!" From the living room, hurried two tall men, both clearly in the six foot range.

"Welcome home, Kelse!" the taller of the two greeted Kelsey, flicking his bangs out of his eyes. He smiled at her, showing off the cute dimples and his pearly whites.

"Hi." She greeted with a nervous smile. "You're, um... Dean?"

"Sam," He corrected before pointing to the other man beside him, this one blonde cut short with deep green eyes. "That's Dean."

Dean greeted her with a wave of his hand before shoving it into the pockets of his jeans.

"Oh." Her smile disappeared and was quickly replaced with a grimace. "Sorry."

"Sam, Dean," Mary suggested as she hung her jacket onto a hanger and placed it into the closet before taking Kelsey's. "Why don't you guys take Kelsey on a tour of the house? We'll get dinner started."

The boys nodded and waved for Kelsey to follow them, Sam leading the pack. Kelsey blew the air out from her cheeks but followed anyways, trying to listen and remember what she could. Living room, kitchen, bathroom. Easy enough to find. When it came to the bedrooms, though, it could get tricky about which room belonged to who.

Sam and Dean's rooms were nearly identical in colour and layout. Both rooms painted a deep, royal blue. The décor, however, could not be more different. Whereas Sam's room had two bookshelves lined with books, organized into personal favourites and academics (he was studying to be a lawyer, and was enrolled in Stanford, Kelsey had learned), Dean's had posters of vintage cars and rock bands, and the odd poster of a girl in a bikini plastering his walls. Sam had photos of him and his friends at school set out, Dean had photos of his family and a couple with just him and her. Sam's desk was neat, organized and had his laptop in the middle. Dean didn't have a desk, only a set of nightstands which had a half empty bottle of beer, a couple magazines and an old TV sitting on the top of the long dresser.

"And this is your room," Sam enlightened as he led Kelsey and Dean into the final bedroom. The walls were a deep purple, which matched the comforter on the double sized bed. Two pillows were stacked on top of each other in the middle of the bed, with a fuzzy zebra-print pillow in front of the stack.

"I like purple, I guess." Kelsey clarified as she took a couple steps ahead, allowing her eyes to drift over everything. A bookcase was stacked with a selection of books and magazines, photos of people she didn't recognize. Small trinkets littered one shelf while another held a Winnie The Pooh bear who had obviously seen better days, if the missing eye, tear with stuffing popping out and torn shirt was anything to go on. Finally, a third shelf, about chest height held a small, plastic cosmetics box, and an old wooden jewelry box beside it.

"Why do we still live here?" Kelsey asked curiously as she picked up a photo to study it. In the frame was her, though obviously younger, and another woman with brown hair, her blue eyes warm and caring.

"What do you mean?" Dean answered, tilting his head as if he didn't understand the question.

"Well, we're all adults, right?" She said, replacing the frame to pick up the Winnie the Pooh bear instead. "Why do we still live here? Don't we own our own homes?"

Sam shook his head. "I'm in California at Stanford most of the year, and Dean and yourself have been saving up to move out to your own places."

"Besides, Mom and Dad like having us around too much to kick us out," Dean joked, and Sam snuck a glance at his older brother. He was thankful Dean was able to crack that joke; ever since they had gotten the news of Kelsey's condition, the poor guy had been living in a cloud of depression and guilt.

"Mom and dad?"

"Uh, Mary and John." he confirmed.

"Oh." She blotted her lips before replacing the bear, having given it a thorough looking over.

"Guys, dinner's ready," John interrupted with a knock on the door frame. "Let's go eat."

Pushing off the door frame, John disappeared and Sam followed suit. Dean made it to the doorway before turning when he realized Kelsey hadn't moved. Instead, she was rooted to the spot in front of the bookcase, eyes drifting over the items it held, squinting in thought.

"You coming?"

"Hmm?" Kelsey turned back to Dean, and tucked a lock of red hair behind her ear when she realized what he had asked. "Oh, no, I don't think so." Shrugging, she added, "I'm not that hungry."

Dean opened and closed his mouth for a moment, as if deciding on how to answer that question. Finally, he blotted his lips and nodded, and tried to ignore the feeling of distance he felt whenever he had her in his sight. Looking at Kelsey was like looking at a stranger; it was like he didn't know her anymore. Didn't know what would make her laugh, make her cry. The feeling didn't sit right with him, especially because he did know that about her. He knew everything about her, and yet, here she was. Standing in her own bedroom without a clue about anything. About him, about their family, about herself.

"Alright, well, uh..." Dean moved towards the door and rolled his shoulders. "If you get hungry, you know where the kitchen is."

"Thanks."

Once the blonde had left, Kelsey let out a sigh and flopped down onto the bed. Laying on her back, she glared at the white ceiling before closing her eyes. Deciding to give up on thinking for the time being, she curled up on her side, and sighed heavily again, letting the quietness of her atmosphere wash over her, and eventually, helped her drift off to sleep.

A/N: Please keep those reviews coming! Also, don't forget, I'm open to suggestions! If there's something you want to see happen, or think I should do, definitely let me know! I might just include it!