Art of Remembering
Fandom: Supernatural
Title: Art of Remembering
Author/Artist: my_sam_dean
Theme(s): 5 - Seeking for you
Pairing/Characters: Sam/Dean
Rating: R
Disclaimer/claimer: I own nothing Supernatural
Summary (if needed): Warning: Slash/Incest. Sam wakes up with amnesia. Dean has to help him remember.
Sam opened his eyes and had no clue where he was, or who he was. There was a man sleeping beside him. He struggled to get out from under the stranger’s arm and the covers. He stood there, shivering, realizing that he was naked.
“Sammy.” Dean barely opened his eyes. “What are you doing? Come back to bed.”
“What did you call me?” Sam’s voice was cracking.
Dean woke up quick.
“Who are you?”
“Sammy, are you having a nightmare or a vision?”
“I woke up with a blank slate for a memory. I don’t know who I am or why I’m here. I don’t know who you are.” Sam was trying not to let his teeth chatter.
“We’ll figure this out, okay? First, you need to get into bed before you catch a cold. Then, I’ll tell you anything you want to know.” Dean folded the covers back and held his hands up to show how harmless he was.
Slowly, Sam sat down on the edge of the bed and covered up. “Who am I?”
“Sam Winchester.”
“Who are you?”
“Dean Winchester, your older brother.”
“Are you naked, too?”
“Yep. We’re a couple.”
“That is so screwed up. It’s beyond words.”
“Actually, sleeping together simplified our relationship,” Dean chuckled.
Sam looked at him like he’d lost his mind.
“Our mother died in a fire when you were six months old. Our father took us on a hunt for the demon that caused her death for most of our lives. Dad died, and we killed the demon responsible for Mom and your girlfriend from Stanford.”
Sam was quiet trying to let it all sink in.
“Do I look at all familiar to you?” Dean asked as he held out his arms and turned his head from side to side.
Sam shook his head.
“I’ve been taking care of you since you were little. Come here, I’m not going to hurt you.”
Sam tried to relax against the stranger. He found that the more he was able to relax, the easier it was. “This is comfortable,” Sam said.
“Good. It should be.” Dean rested his cheek on the top of Sam’s head and fell asleep.
***
“We’re hunters. That’s why we have these scars.” Dean pointed to one on the back of his shoulder and another on his arm. “We’ve patched each other up over the years.”
“What kind of animal would cause these kind of scars?” Sam asked as he looked at his torso in the mirror.
“Well.” Dean ran his fingers through his hair as he tried to think of a truthful but yet cryptic answer. “We hunt evil beings.”
“What?”
“It will be easier to explain later. I’ll fill you in on the other, day-to-day things first.” Dean watched as the look on Sam’s face turned to agreement.
“This is my baby,” Dean ran his hand over the hood of the Impala. “You read the maps and we drive all over the country. I don’t fly. You hate clowns. Driver picks the music, and you don’t usually drive. We just have a system that works for us, so why mess with it?”
Once they were inside, Sam looked around at everything.
“Anything look familiar?”
“No.”
“Close your eyes and slouch in that seat. You usually sleep there. Maybe the feel or smell will come back to you.”
Sam felt a little ridiculous doing it, but he slouched in the seat and closed his eyes. He seemed to fit into the seat just right. There was something about the smell of the car that was--- he couldn’t put his finger on it. “It feels right to be here.”
“Don’t open your eyes.” Dean shuffled around. “How about this?” There was something supple held up to Sam’s cheek.
That scent, that feel. “It’s safe, love, home,” Sam hesitated on the last word because he got choked up.
“Open your eyes,” Dean’s voice was soft.
“What was that?” There were tears in Sam’s eyes from the warm feelings that had flooded him with that one item.
“My leather jacket,” Dean replied as he clutched it close. “It’s what I usually wear, I just left it in the car last night.”
“Put it on.”
Dean slid his arms through the sleeves and Sam scooted closer to him. Dean moved toward the middle of the seat. Sam awkwardly laid his cheek on Dean’s shoulder with his nose near the collar. He wasn’t sure what to do with his arms at first, but he settled on just putting them around his brother.
Dean rested his arms lightly around Sam, not wanting to scare him away.
“How are you doing, Sammy?”
“Can I just stay here for awhile?” Sam whispered in Dean’s ear. “If I just rest here for a few minutes, would that be alright?”
“That would be just fine by me,” Dean answered as he shifted his arms to a more comfortable position. “We can stay here as long as you need.”