Note: This is set pre series. Before Sam went to college. Dean's 20, Sam's 16.

Don't own anything.

He woke up in the middle of some woods. He looked frantically around, trying to place where he was and why he was here in the first place. When he searched his memories he found them blank, though. That was when he started to panic. He closed his eyes and tried to bring something up, but couldn't. In a daze he started walking. What else could he do?

He was on his way out of the woods when he decided to search through his pockets. He found a wallet. It held a few twenty's but nothing else. No I.D. He was also beginning to get worried that he would get lost in these woods.

He was pretty calm considering by the time that he reached the edge of the woods. But now he didn't know what to do. He debated on going to the cops or the hospital. He hesitated on both ideas, though. He didn't know why but he knew that for some reason he didn't like cops or hospitals. He instead went to the nearest motel and booked a room. It was irrational. He should get to the hospital, but some irrational part of his brain kept screaming at him not to. He decided to go. Later.

He walked into the motel room and sat down on the bed for a moment before getting up and going into the bathroom. He stripped off his jacket and shirt. He had several scars across his chest. He touched one that ran down his side. It looked like claw marks. He frowned and looked up into the mirror. He stared at his reflection for a few minutes, trying desperately to remember who the hell it was staring at him back. He ran a hand over short dark blonde hair. Dark green eyes stared back at him. He didn't like how blank they were. He ran a hand across his face. He noted the features in the mirror, trying to place them. High cheekbones, full lips. He had to admit the person in the mirror was handsome. He sighed and walked back into the other room and lay back on the bed. Maybe he should go to the hospital after all.


John was worried. Dean had gone out on his own hunt a few days ago, but John had made Dean promise to call every night. Dean knew better than to break that rule. He had tried to call Dean's cell but got nothing but voicemail. John paced the room and made a decision. He put his phone away and went to get his and Sam's things. He was picking Sam up from school and then they were going to find Dean.


Sam fidgeted in the passengers seat. Worry ate at him. For once since he had become a teenager he hadn't argued with his dad about leaving town so quick. He hated the thought that Dean might be in trouble. Why did he have to go out hunting alone? Dean had practically begged John for ages before John had finally caved. Sam looked anxiously at the road ahead. They were so far away. To far away.


He fidgeted in the hard plastic chair in the waiting area of the emergency room. He really didn't like this place. It was frustrating as hell. He didn't remember why he didn't like hospitals, just that he didn't. The nurse at the desk had handed him forms to fill out when he'd walked in. He had stared blankly at the first line that asked for his name for a moment before telling the nurse that he didn't remember his name. Finally another nurse came to get him and sat him in an exam room. He waited there for what seemed like forever before the doctor came in. The man asked him a bunch of questions. What's the last thing you remember? Do you have any headaches? No. Blurred vision? No. And on like that. He was sent in for a few tests. A CT scan. A few others.

After the tests he lay back in the bed in the hospital. He could remember things. Like he knew what a CT scan was. He just couldn't remember how or why he knew. He guessed he had the same feelings too. After all his distaste for hospitals had to come from before. He sighed and glanced blankly at the name on the hospital bed. John Doe. Huh. He'd have to come up with something better than that.