Hello Yesterday 4/?
Chapter 4
They did tests. Not for all of them Dean was allowed to stay and during those Sam felt the most alone. Dean was the only person he knew and without him he had nothing to hold on to. Which was weird because basically Dean was a stranger to him as well.
At least the results were reassuring. Sam could feel his body, could wiggle his fingers and toes, could see and hear, had no problems reading and writing and all in all he was fine except for his memory. That still wasn't back after two days. He didn't even have flashbacks or dreams, it was frustrating.
Sam felt tired most of the time due to the concussion and the pain medication they were giving him for the headache and he was more sleeping than not.
The times he wasn't sleeping, Dean talked to him. He told him that their mother died when they were little and that their dad had passed away recently.
"How?" Sam asked and searched in his mind for something he connected with the man. He'd just learned that his father was dead but he felt nothing. It was like they were talking about a stranger.
"The aftermath of a car accident." Dean answered rather vaguely.
"Dean?" Sam sat up a little straighter in bed.
"Can we leave the details for another time?" Dean almost pleaded and Sam could only nod. There were emotions flashing over Dean's face he didn't want to see there.
"So I went to Stanford?" Sam came back to something Dean had told him earlier. He didn't remember any of it but he knew the name and that it was a big deal.
"On a full ride." Dean smiled broadly at him. "You met Jess there." His face fell and Sam knew that whoever Jess was, it didn't end well.
"She was my girlfriend?" He guessed.
"You loved her." Dean said with a sad smile. "She died in a fire."
Stunned Sam just stared at his brother. He didn't know what to say. Dean told him that the woman he loved was dead and he didn't know how to react to that.
"You and me went on a road trip after her funeral." Dean continued but Sam got the feeling that there was more to it. Dean was telling the truth, he was sure about that, but he wasn't telling the whole truth.
"Then dad died …" He shook his head as if he wanted to get rid of some bad memories. "We just never stopped. That's why we stay at motels most of the time."
"We don't have a home?" Dean had mentioned that before but for some reason it still wrenched his guts. Even if he had a home he wouldn't remember it but it still felt wrong. "What are we, some kind of drifters?" He joked but the words died on his lips when he saw the expression on Dean's face.
"From time to time we crash at Bobby's." Dean had to clear his throat. "We probably should do that as soon as you're feeling better. But for now I've booked us a room here in town for, you know, for when you get out of here." He made a vague gesture around the room.
Doctor Marshal had been talking about releasing him soon. Physically he just needed to rest and let his head heal and he could do that more comfortably at home, she had said. Familiar surroundings could help triggering his memory but he doubted a random motel room would do the trick. Maybe Bobby's place but that was only a name to him.
"Stop thinking so hard." Dean huffed. "Feel up for a game of poker?" He nodded towards the cards they'd left on the nightstand earlier.
Memory was a weird thing, Sam had found out. He still could play poker, not very good with his concussion and high on meds but he knew the rules.
He couldn't for the life of his name the current president but if he started with George Washington he could rattle off every single one of them with dates and everything. Doctor Marshal had compared that to a phenomena related to dementia. Apparently things you'd learned in a young age often stay while more recent memories just vanish. Patients with dementia often couldn't tell what they had for breakfast but knew nursery rhymes or poems they'd learned by heart in school. Apparently Sam's situation was similar to that. Sam doubted that the Pledge of Allegiance or the Star-Spangled Banner would help him out in the long run but for some reason Dean grinned to that revelation as if it was actually something useful but when Sam had asked what was on his mind Dean had dismissed it.
They played a few hands of poker, Sam lost every single one of them but that wasn't the point, before exhaustion took over and Sam drifted back to sleep.
Sam was released the next day. Dean brought him some clothes he claimed where his and they fit, Sam had to give him that, but he wondered why someone would wear so many layers of shirts.
Dean went to get his meds and to schedule his next appointment and then it was time to leave.
Sam felt a wave of panic washing over him. He was about to leave with a man he got to know a bit over the last few days but that was it. He knew Dean for less than a week and still he was about to just leave with him. Dean had said he'd a motel room for them and Sam believed him but he couldn't shake off the thought that once he was in the car Dean could take him to wherever he wanted and nobody would ever know.
You didn't have that problem when you left with him the first time, a helpful little voice in the back of his mind provided. Which was true but back then he had been barely conscious. Now he knew that there were things not adding up, things Dean wasn't telling him.
As far as he could tell Dean had never lied to him but there were certain topics he didn't want to discuss while they were in the hospital. Sneaking out of a hospital, using fake insurance cards, that kind of stuff. Things that made Sam wonder if they were some kind of criminals. Or maybe he'd just been watching too many soap operas over the last few days.
"You ready to go?" Dean nudged the wheelchair closer, waiting for Sam to get his butt in there. He could walk just fine but the hospital policy insisted on the chair. Insurance or something.
Sam nodded but didn't move just yet.
"Sam." Dean said in a soft voice. "You trust me, right?"
Now Sam couldn't help the little smile forming on his lips. He may not know Dean but for sure Dean knew him.
"Yeah, I trust you." And with that he moved over to the chair. "But you still owe me an explanation." He didn't need to elaborate, Dean nodded knowingly to his words.
"I know." Dean said with a sigh and got the wheelchair in motion. "Just give me a chance and hear me out before you run, okay?"
"Of course." With Dean behind him he couldn't see his face but the tone of his voice told him enough. And it didn't help to put his mind to ease. Whatever Dean was hiding, it was big. And probably illegal. On their way out of the hospital Sam played out every scenario in his mind he could think of that would explain the bits about his life he knew. None if them shone a good light on him and Dean and he wondered if it wouldn't be better if he'd never get his memories back. A new start, not many got that chance.
Despite his wariness Sam fell asleep in the car before they'd even left the parking lot. He fought to keep his eyes open but the heavy medication and the purr of the engine lulled him to sleep within second.
"Sam!"
Sam startled awake.
"How to kill a werewolf?"
"Silver bullet to the heart." He answered without thinking, still trying to figure out where he was and who'd been yelling at him. Only with a delay he realized what he'd just said.
"Werewolf?" He asked. At least by now he'd recognized the car and the man in the driver's seat. They were in another parking lot and he guessed the building in front of him was the motel Dean had been talking about.
"Never mind." Dean said but he was grinning like an idiot.
"Dean." Sam called after him when the other man left the car. "What's with the werewolf?"
"Let's get settled first." Dean answered him from inside the trunk from where he came up a second later with Sam's bag.
Still confused Sam didn't even mind the hovering on the short way over to their room. Dean opened the door for him and Sam stepped through but stopped almost immediately to take in his surroundings.
His eyes fell on the two beds.
"I hope you don't mind." Dean had followed his gaze. "We usually have a room together, I thought it might trigger something." He shifted from one foot to the other. "I can get us a second room if you feel better that way."
"No." Sam hurried to say. For a second he hadn't been sure how he felt about the idea of Dean and him sharing a room but there had been no doubt about the second room idea. It was stupid but he didn't want to leave Dean out of his sight. The nights in the hospital had been long enough.
"Awesome." Dean strode past him and placed Sam's bag on the bed farther into the room. The one near the door had obviously been used and it just felt right that way.
"Nice room." Sam said just to fill the silence.
"Yeah." Dean turned towards him, rubbing the back of his head with one hand. "A little more upscale than our usual motels. Since we're probably staying for a while …"
Sam nodded to that and moved over to the table at the window. He needed to sit down. Dean was at his side in an instant.
"Here." He helped him into the chair. "You need something? Water? Your meds?"
"I'm fine." Sam assured him and he was. Still a bit weak and his head was pounding with his heartbeat but all in all he was fine. "Okay, what was that about the werewolf?"
"I knew you would remember." Dean seemed rather proud of himself.
"So you're telling me that I like horror movies?" He didn't get it, why was Dean so happy about him knowing a random fact like this?
"Not quite." Came his rather cryptic answer. Ignoring him for the moment Dean opened his own bag, searching for something.
"Dean." He let his frustration show in his voice.
"Yeah, yeah." With what looked like a magazine and a stack of paper in his hands Dean came over and set down across from him. He handed him the magazine and a blank piece of paper. Sam took it but had no idea what Dean expected him to do with it.
"You still owe me an explanation." He reminded him.
"We'll get to that." Dean gave him a pen. "But first, could you do me a favor and copy one of the articles?"
"What?" Sam stared at him, trying to figure out if it had been a mistake to trust this man but all he could read in Dean's face was insecurity and something close to fear. "Why?"
Now Dean sighed. "There is a huge part of your life that is hard to believe and even harder to prove. I figured that you'd believe yourself more than me."
Dean still had the stack of papers in front of him, lying upside down so Sam couldn't read them but he could tell that they were written by hand. Getting the idea he opened the magazine and started writing.
"That should be enough." Dean stopped him when he reached the bottom of the page. Sam put the pen down and waited for Dean's next move.
For a long moment it looked like his brother would back out, which only made Sam more wary of what he was about to find out.
"You're lucky we had to leave in a hurry." Dean handed him the papers. "We didn't have time to clean this stuff out."
"What is this?" Sam flipped through the pages filled with what he now recognized as his own handwriting.
"This is your research for our last job."
Chapter 5
Masterpost