Where Are You

Chapter 6

Dean woke to the smell of cooking; his sleep had been dreamless and relaxing and he felt a lot better. He rolled over – Sam's bed was empty and he felt a strange panic as he propped himself up on his elbow. It was strange, he mused, how quickly he had adapted to having Sam around; having Sam near him.

Sam was standing at the stove, frying bacon and eggs; the food smelt wonderful and Dean hadn't realised how hungry he was until the scent hit his nostrils. He smiled, sitting down at the table "Do you know" he mused as Sam turned and grinned at him, a real honest grin that showed his dimples, "I don't even know what I like to eat"

"Just go for anything fried without vegetables" Sam plopped the bacon onto Dean's plate "And plenty of sauce – you like donuts too – but only the sugared kind" he sat down facing his brother "I guess it must be hard – not remembering anything"

Dean ate his food for a moment; pondering. Sam was right, it was hard. He didn't know anything about himself, not really. He didn't know what he liked to eat, what he liked to wear, what sort of movies he enjoyed, whether he had ever been in a relationship, what his favourite colour was.

He swallowed, the bacon lying heavy in his mouth and stomach. He had been amazed how easily he had accepted the life that his therapist had created for him. How he had embraced the normal, almost boring routine of work, dinner, sleep and willing women. Yet his real life was far from normal; his mother had died in a fire created by a demon, his father had made a bargain with the self-same demon to safe Dean's life and had sacrificed his own. His brother had been possessed and turned evil and tried to kill him; his life had been surrounded by darkness and despair. Maybe his mind was trying to block out these memories, maybe his subconscious wanted to be that boring, normal mechanic who liked nothing more than micro waved dinners and Sunday nights at the local diner.

He glanced up and saw Sam staring at him; his brother looked a little better today; the trembling in his hands seemed to have abated, his hair was clean and brushed his cheeks pinker than Dean had seen them. Dean smiled at his brother; whatever had happened to him had also happened to Sam. Maybe Sam didn't choose this life either, but Sam didn't have the luxury of blotting it out, of forgetting. Sam, who had tried to kill his brother; Sam, who had tried to kill himself. Dean reached out a hand and touched Sam's fingers, rewarded with a small smile, he squeezed a little.

"I like this about the new you" Sam's voice was light, but Dean could see the honesty in his eyes "This touching – this sharing" he returned Dean's grip "You – you never really liked these 'chick flick' moments before"

"I didn't" Dean's stomach clenched a little; he liked touching his brother, feeling Sam close to him. Somehow it grounded him, made him feel better, more whole "I. am I a bit of an ass?"

"Yeah – sometimes" Sam smiled again "God – I hope Missouri can help you – I hope you can get back some of your memories"

"I remember some things" Dean sighed "I remember the Impala, you riding shotgun, I remembered you as a baby, all wriggly and soft in my arms"

"You remember me then – a little?" Sam looked hopeful

"Yeah" Dean was glad he had put the smile on Sam's face "I remember you – Sammy"

They were sitting on the hood of one of the many wrecked cars when a taxi drew up and a tired looking black woman got out of the back, stretching and yawning. Sam got up immediately and was enveloped into the woman's strong arms, his head pressed up against her substantial bosom "Sam – oh my goodness – look at you" she pushed him away "You are way too thin honey – haven't they been feeding you?"

"I'm ok" Sam flushed a little under her scrutiny "I'm ok"

"And Dean" her brown eyes moved over Dean and he felt more than a little uncomfortable. She appeared to be reading him like a book and he saw her eyes cloud and her mouth turn down, shoulders slumping "Oh my poor boy" her voice was soft, sympathy warring with anger "You don't remember any of it – do you?"

"A little" Dean felt himself backing away and Sam put a hand on his back, huge, warm and steadying "I have started to remember a little"

"You need a lot of help boy" Missouri shook her head "You have been lost to us – and we need to find you – all of you – you – you are incomplete"

"I had…I had an accident" Dean's eyes flickered to Sam "I…I was ill for a long time"

"I know what happened" her eyes were dark and fathomless "I wanted to come for you – but the darkness – it was all encompassing" she touched Sam's arm "And you needed to find each other again – you two are separate parts of the same whole – you are destined to be together – without you – there is no hope for humanity"

"That's an awful lot of responsibility for a man with no memory" Dean kept his voice light and was rewarded with a slap around the back of his skull

"You ain't lost none of your sass boy" Missouri smiled then, showing perfect white teeth "There's hope for you yet" she stretched again "Now – where's that Bobby – I need me some coffee and I need it now"

They sat around Bobby's table, sipping coffee and making small talk. Missouri watched Dean and Dean watched Missouri, still feeling uneasy. Sam was chatting to Bobby about dogs and Dean let his gaze flicker over his brother, watching him, making sure he was ok.

"You haven't forgotten that have you?" Missouri's voice was gentle "Looking after Sammy"

"He – he's all I have – right?"

"And you are all that he has" Missouri nodded her approval "And it is important to both of you that you remember that"

"I – I don't blame him – for what happened" Dean wanted her to understand "It wasn't his fault – I know that now"

"Let me help you" she reached forward and put her hands against his skull. He closed his eyes for a moment and breathed deeply, trying to relax, to see.

Pain; he felt it clear and sharp. A car hit him solid in the back and he flew skywards, falling back down into the road, blood seeping coldly from a wound in his scalp. He heard laughter and screaming and he felt his heart begin to pound, fast and hard.

A man, bearded, sad eyes, hugging tight. "I'm proud of you Dean" a voice, soft and gentle, warm. Hair beginning to go grey, hard callused hands – his father.

A woman, soft, smelling sweet, belly rounded with pregnancy. Scooping him up in her arms and whirling him round; a dog eared teddy bear, clasped in a chubby hand; the same bear burning in the flames around him as the woman screamed.

Sam; blood on his hands and shirt; a blonde woman, gagged and trying desperately to escape; black eyes; an evil grin.

Sam; face like stone, a gun aimed at Dean's head; Sam smiling "This is me" as he shot pellets of rock salt into Dean's unprotected chest.

"No!" Dean pulled away "No – I can't do this – let me go – I can't do this anymore" he was quick and breathless with panic, aware of Sam's hands reaching out to him, his voice coming harsh and filled with fear

"Dean!! Dean – stop – don't – Dean"

And then he was running, running away from the woman's intrusive hands, away from the junkyard, away from his brother, his past. He ran and ran, till he didn't know where he was or even who he was. He ran to escape his past, he ran to escape his future but most of all, he ran to escape his destiny.

TBC