Last night I was watching It's a Terrible Life and began to wonder what happened to Sam after Zachariah restored Dean's memories.
It's a Terrible Life
Dean hated angels, particularly the smug, bald son of a bitch standing in front of him. Since when had it been okay to steal his memories and most of his awesome personality? How could it be right for him to be wearing a suit and driving a Prius? Damn, but that was disturbing. Zachariah had crossed a line and Dean would be happy to wipe that self-satisfied smirk off the angel's face. Of course, it was pretty funny to think of Sam working in a cubicle. Oh, crap. Sam!
"Where's my brother?" Dean asked.
"Ah, I must admit I was worried that Sam's memories would break through completely and spoil the point of this lesson." Zachariah sat down, completely relaxed and not looking the slightest bit worried about the seething mass of resentment called Dean Winchester.
"Answer the question," Dean snarled. "And, what have you done with my car."
"It wouldn't hurt for you to show some respect."
"You're a dick who messed with my head. I get it. I was destined to be a hunter. Fine. Now, where the hell is my brother?"
"Sam quit. He became quite violent. I had to call security to escort him from the building."
Dean's eyes widened in surprise. "Where'd he go?"
"I have no idea."
"He has got his memories back?"
"I'm afraid not. I couldn't risk restoring his memories until I was certain that you had come around to our way of thinking."
"I will never come around to your way of thinking. I'm not your damn puppet."
Zachariah's face turned red. Dean didn't even see the angel move, but suddenly Zachariah was standing only inches away from him. He held his ground, hands clenched into tight fists.
"You need to learn some manners so I am going to keep Sam's memories until you beg me for help."
Dean closed his eyes against a blast of cold air. When he opened them again he found that he was alone.
Human Resources was on the seventh floor. Dean strode into the department, giving the impression that he belonged there. "I need an address for Sam Wesson," he said to the young woman sitting at the desk outside the office belonging to the H R Director.
She looked him up and down before licking her lips. "We aren't allowed to give out private information about members of staff."
Dean forced out a smile. "He gave his notice earlier today and it's important that I speak to him."
"I wish I could help you…"
"Look, I don't want you to get into any trouble but I'm worried about him. He worked in Tech Support and started acting irrationally after his friend, Ian, killed himself a couple of days ago. We think he blamed the company for Ian's death." Dean moved closer to the woman, noticing for the first time how attractive she was. His hormones did a little happy dance while he momentarily forgot his concerns about Sam.
"Oh, yes, we all heard about that. It was terrible. And then there was that other poor man who microwaved his brains."
She shuddered and Dean took the opportunity to rest his hand on her arm in a gesture of sympathy.
"You see why I want to make sure that he's okay. Two of his colleagues committed suicide and then he smashed his phone with a crowbar before quitting. I won't tell anyone who gave me the information. You could be helping to save his life. And, if you're not busy tonight maybe we could meet later for dinner."
Five minutes later Dean left the office with Sam's address and Felicity's phone number. It was such a damn shame that he was going to have to disappoint her.
The apartment block where Sam had been living for the last three weeks was a world away from the beautiful waterfront loft which Dean had inhabited. Dean had been pleasantly surprised to find that his fake credit card was still working and had taken time out to buy some more comfortable clothes. He'd also placated his stomach with a double bacon cheese burger and fries.
There had been no further sign of Zachariah, which suited Dean just fine. However, he knew that he was going to need some help, which was why he was standing in an alley, in the dark, yelling for Castiel.
"What do you want?"
Dean turned in the direction of the voice. Castiel looked exactly the same as always, showing no emotion despite the fact that he had been betrayed by one his fellow angels.
"You know what Zachariah did to us?" Dean asked.
"Why didn't you do something?"
Castiel frowned. "Zachariah is my superior. He gave me my orders and I followed them."
"It didn't occur to you that what he did was wrong?"
"I don't question my orders. Why did you call me?"
"I need you to give Sam back his memories so that we can get out of here."
"That is not within my power. Zachariah is the only one who can do that."
"Son of a bitch!" Dean yelled. "There has to be another way. Come on, Cas, give me something to work with."
Castiel looked up at the sky. "You might be able to get through to him. He was remembering some of his life, although he thought they were dreams. His memories are not gone. Zachariah erected a wall around them. With your help, it is possible that Sam could break through the barrier."
"What if he can't?"
"This is the risk you must take, Dean. If he tries, and fails, his memories could disappear permanently."