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SPN Fic: Consequences 2/4

Title: Consequences - Part II:Adjustments
Author: Astri
Disclaimer: Sadly the Supernatural universe and boys don`t belong to me. If they did, nobody would ever see them again. Ever. ;)
Ratings/Warning: Gen, PG-13
Characters: Sam, Dean, couple of OCs
Spoiler: allusions up to the Season 2 Finale
Word count: 17.122
Summary: After a hunt gone wrong Sam is faced with a difficult decision which leaves Dean a changed man. How will the brothers cope with it? And will their enemies use the opportunity to strike?

AN: This is a future fic. General angstiness afoot. Though with a generous helping of brotherly snark this time.

Again much thanks to legoline for support and andromakhe001 for being my guardian beta-ing angel.

Consequences II: Adjustments

Deeeaaaannnn, he let the name roll around on his tongue, testing it out. He liked it, he decided. Which was a good thing since apparently it was his name. Or at least that`s what they told him.

Maybe they were lying to him, yanking the chain of the poor schmuck with amnesia. But then, what reason would they have?

What reason would he have. His brother. Sam. Really tall kid with a mop of unruly brown hair. For some reason that bothered him. If he was the kid`s, Sam`s, he silently corrected himself, older brother why the hell didn`t he make him get a decent haircut?

An inspection of his own head with a little help from a mirror had revealed a short, yet attractive, if he was allowed to say so himself, coiff of his own light-brown hair, in addition to a pair of hazel eyes, high cheekbones and full lips.

All in all, not bad. He`d bet chicks dug his looks, at least if the nurses tending to him were any indication. He`d caught a few of them checking him out, blushing and even giggling on occasion.

His pick-up lines on the other hand left something to be desired. When the pretty blond thing working the night shifts had asked him if there was something she could help him with, the first words out of his mouth had been: "Oh god, yes."

Hm, did that work on women? He had some pretty confusing memories of seeing men torn to shreds over something like this on Oprah. Figuratively speaking. And wasn`t that scarier than the whole memory loss thing, to have one of his few memories being watching Oprah.

Luckily the nurse hadn`t seemed to mind. Or maybe the "I`m really cute and did I mention I have amnesia?" spiel had worked in his favor.

And why did he have the insane urge to make up stories about himself all the time? Was that a normal side effect of having lost one`s own identity? If it was, he`d start with a new family name. Because while he could feel like a Dean, he definitely didn`t feel like a Dean Marquette. There had to be something cooler.

If he was a player of any kind, this Sam-guy sure looked like he would cramp his style. The soulful puppy-dog-look basically screamed earnestness.

Not that he`d had too much opportunity to inspect the younger man since there was this teensy little problem with him having spasm`s whenever the other got physically close to him. Was it even possible to be allergic to a person?

His doctor, a white-haired guy named Carlson, had explained to him about psychosomatic reactions and post-traumatic stress syndrome and the likes. He`d even brought a shrink.

Somehow that had given Dean the creeps. He had a feeling he hated shrinks and the thoughts of mental asylums made him uneasy. Not that he`d even been to one, as far as he knew. Which granted, wasn`t very far

Also he most definitely didn`t think word-associations were going to help him, thank you very much.

Crossword-puzzles maybe. They not only calmed him but he found out something about himself each time. Apparently he knew some really freaky stuff. And he seemed to possess a fair knowledge in all things pop-culture and music. Good music, that was, like Zeppelin and Metallica.

In fact he had hummed a tune for two days straight without knowing what it was until some helpful young male nurse had informed him it was Metallica. And deemed him cool. Yeah, he could do cool.

Apparently he was also mechanically inclined as yesterday he had totally disassembled and rebuilt the TV remote out of sheer boredom. Was that what he was? A mechanic? Sam should know this stuff, shouldn’t he? And why did it seem his thoughts always came to Sam?

Sometimes Sam came and looked through the little window in his door. The headaches were manageable at this distance though he got the impression he didn`t fool the kid in that regard. He usually didn`t stay long.

Normally he`d shyly wave at Dean. And Dean`d weakly wave back. He felt for him, he truly did. But part of him wanted to scream: What do you want from me?I don`t remember you. I just don`t.

Even so, a part of Dean felt guilty about it. There was no mistaking the pain the younger man was in. Even at this distance Dean would have to be deaf, dumb and blind not to notice Sam`s utter misery. It radiated off of him in waves.

As did the concern and the hope that maybe Dean finally recognized him and stopped being violently ill every time he came close. How did you apologize for something like this.
Sorry dude, you make me sick. Literally.

He was quick on his feet however, Dean had to give him that. The brothers now frequently communicated via their little cell phones.

Of course considering the circumstances at hand their conversations were rather strained and
Dean often felt clumsy and unsure. Yesterday he had called the other man "Sammy." He hadn`t meant anything by it. It seemed a sensible nickname, didn`t it?

His brother had tried to hide his reaction but his choked voice had given him away. Dean hadn`t done it again.

He would have liked to tell Sam about the nightmares, too. They were disturbing to say the least. A baby crying in his crib. A blond woman pinned to the ceiling, on fire. Fire seemed to feature prominently in his dreams for some reason.

Sam had only given some vague answers about their family and their life so far. Apparently they were orphans, road-tripping together and two weeks ago Dean had gotten hurt during a mugging. Or something. Sam had been very evasive about the whole incident. Dean couldn’t help the feeling he was being lied to, so he had become quite hesitant in asking questions now even though he was literally bursting with them.

As if his thoughts had conjured up his little brother, the cell phone on his nightstand rang. Hesitantly he picked it up. Even communicating like this caused him minor pain, yet Dean didn’t have the heart to take it from the younger man too. And all weirdness aside, from himself either. Sam represented the only tangible link to his life right now. Without him he’d be truly alone and, somehow, that thought was scarier than anything else.


Sam clicked his cell phone shut and sighed. Another conversation with his brother that had gone nowhere. Fast.

Why did things have to be so hard? Dean naturally wanted answers. Yet Sam couldn`t give them to him. What if Dean decided he was a nut-job and told the doctors about his little brother spinning a tale of demons and werewolves.

He looked longingly across the hallway to the door to Dean`s room. He hoped it was enough of a distance to not cause his older brother any more pain. The urge to go over there and touch him was overwhelming.

And he was painfully aware of being the only person here, possibly on the whole freaking planet, who couldn`t.

He had never noticed until now how much they both relied on physical contact. A little touch on the shoulder here, a pat to the arm there. Now that it was gone, it painfully made itself known.

Thing was he had expected the cold shoulder-treatment. Dean wasn`t stupid, he wouldn`t have chalked up his sudden recovery to some miracle like the doctors did. Anger, accusations, Sam had even been prepared for some physical violence.

But the one thing he hadn`t been prepared for was... nothing. Even a cold shoulder beat no shoulder.

It was something he had never experienced from Dean. No matter how bad things had gotten between them, even in the years they hadn`t been taking, Sam had been sure of his big brother`s love for him. It was a constant in Sam-world, like the sun.

As constant as his own love for his brother.

There were times he had felt suffocated by it, even scared. Dean loved him so fiercely, so absolutely. It was like he didn`t keep anything for himself. How is one supposed to live up to such a standard? How could one not disappoint in light of such utter devotion?

Sam hadn`t been able to figure that one out. He had often seen the hurt in Dean`s eyes because of it. And he was honest enough with himself to know that a lot of other times when he hadn`t seen it, it had still been there.

Part of him had raged at the unfairness of it all. He just wanted what everybody did: happiness, safety, independence. He just wanted to live his own life. Why did his wishes have to hurt Dean? He`d never meant for that.

He had never meant to hurt Dean period. Sam had stumbled on that front. He was honest about that too.

And Dean wasn`t an angel either. Sometimes the brothers had ripped into each other with a vengeance. That was usually bad.

But this... this was worse. The blank face, the emptiness in Dean`s eyes when he looked at Sam. The lack of the usual sparkle that was just so... Dean.

Was this the price for what he had done? Saving Dean, only to lose him anyway? Once he had figured out what was going on with Dean, he had gone back to Delacroix. Predictably the man was nowhere to be found. And Sam had no idea where to even begin looking for him, let alone the witch.

They had tricked him somehow, or at least known something was wrong. Sam was sure of it now. After the ritual, upon learning of Dean`s recovery, he had been too blinded with joy to see the clues. God, he had been such an idiot.

If Dean had his memory intact, and wouldn’t pass out whenever he got near him, Sam would so get a nice slap to the head right now. That and a nice lecture about how a good hunter doesn`t trust anyone but himself and his neatly polished weapons.

Sometimes Sam had thought how his brother could be a college professor, if a subject like "Hunting 101" existed. Dean could muster up unbounded levels of enthusiasm when he talked about hunting, killing evil SOB`s and saving the innocent. Even moreso then when he talked about sex. His brother certainly was a complicated individual.

And maybe right now Sam was being punished for sacrificing another human to keep said complicated individual with him. He couldn`t bring himself to check the paper for any mysterious deaths. Would it even seem suspicious or be written off to natural causes? Had someone somehow dropped dead that night?

The texts he had studied on the subject, twice translated from now long dead languages, had been unclear on the matter. There had been something about time being "infinite" or "boundless." Sam hadn`t been able to make head or tails of it. Maybe the person had yet to die? But with no idea about their identity how could he ever hope to save them? If that was even possible.

God, it hurt so much to think about that. He couldn`t examine it too closely. Not right now. Not when Dean needed him, depended on him.

After the shock had worn off a bit, Sam had briefly entertained the notion of leaving Dean to himself. Give him a shot at a normal life. Free of demons and ghosts.

It was what Sam had so desperately wanted. Minus the leaving-Dean part of course. But was it what Dean would want? And did he, Sam, even have the right to make this decision for him?

For all intents and purposes Dean reveled in the hunt. Sure, after Dad`s death there had been a time of struggling, a time Dean had rejected everything and anything besides his mission to protect Sam. But that had passed and both brothers had gradually come to realize that even if it was possible to take Dean out of the hunt, you probably couldn`t take the hunt out of Dean.

His brother was a weird version of Robin Hood, Sir Lancelot or the freaking Lonesome Rider. If they had committed credit card fraud, used fake IDs and had lots of sex, that is. Damn, maybe he should have performed a ritual to take the big damn stupid hero gene right out of Dean.

But then he wouldn`t be Dean anymore, would he? Sam sighed. It wasn`t that he didn`t want to help people and do good and everything. But why the hell did it always have to be them? Why couldn`t somebody else do it for a change?

Well, even if they were ready to bow out, it seemed unlikely the Demon world would let them.
Upon returning to the hospital after his futile little visit to Delacroix`s antique store, a growing feeling of dread had befallen Sam. Something had definitely been off.

The flickering lights had been the first give-away. So he had discreetly checked out Dean`s floor with the EMF-meter. The little device had beeped like crazy, causing people to frown at Sam who`d hastily put it away.

He had inched as close to Dean`s room as he dared, given his brother`s current reaction to him. There had been definite traces of sulfur there. A demon`s business card in the supernatural world. But whom did it belong to? They had made so many enemies over the years, hard to keep track.

Sam shivered. How was he supposed to protect his brother? Dean was a sitting duck now, oblivious to the terrible dangers surrounding him.

Defeated he slid down the wall. He felt like crying but what good had tears ever done him? Sam needed to act, needed to put his mind to work. Find something he could fix.

So, the healing spell hadn`t worked out quite as planned. But that was just a minor glitch, right? This was something he could apply himself to. Do a bit of research and find a solution. This he could do.

Resolutely he stood, time to hit the books again.


Four days had passed since Dean`s miraculous recovery and physically he was healed. So there wasn`t much reason for the hospital to keep him admitted any longer.

Also Sam was a bit anxious about the fake credit card he had used for insurance. It was a small miracle in itself that the fraud hadn`t been discovered yet. So he had pushed the issue and Dean seemed to want out of there anyway.

Thusly on a bright Friday morning one Dean Winchester stepped through the sliding doors that marked the hospital`s entrance.

Sam, perched on the hood of the Impala at the far end of the parking lot, raised his hand in greeting. He felt a bit odd being there. It wasn`t as if he could just take Dean with him back to the motel a few towns over. A cab would take care of that but somehow it had felt wrong not to come.

And it was definitely worth it when Dean excitedly pulled out his cell-phone and dialed. Sam was unsurprised find his own ringing mere seconds later and answered.


"Dude, is that my car?"

His brother was practically bouncing on his heels. And for the first time in weeks Sam let out a burst of genuine laughter.

"Yeah, she`s yours," he said, acknowledging Dean`s rather disturbing tendency to view the Impala as his "girl."

"Sweet," it sounded impressed.

Just then the cab pulled up and Dean, after longingly looking at the Impala once more, got in.

"See you back at the motel then?" Dean asked over the phone.

"Sure. See you." Sam clicked the cell phone shut. Because really, there wasn`t much else he could do.


Over the next few days the brothers worked out kind of a routine. Necessarily they had gotten separate rooms in the little run-down motel. As far apart from each other as possible. Sam wasn`t terribly happy with that but didn`t want to cause his brother any unnecessary pain either.

They were calling each other periodically with Sam telling Dean anecdotes while still trying to fend off the big questions about their lives.

And so far Dean had kept quiet about Sam meticulously checking his motel room every night while Dean stayed in the bathroom. Never even asking why. He had also humored Sam by putting up all the amulets Sam had tried to pass of as good luck charms.

Of course Sam hadn`t worked up the nerve to ask his brother to lay salt lines across all the entrances so Sam had secretly done it outside the door and the window sills.

They had tried once going to the same restaurant, sitting at different tables. But it had felt too weird. So now they had taken to each bringing food to their rooms with them and eating alone. Everyday after his check-ups Sam left a bit of money in Dean`s room for his brother to use.

Sam was currently engrossed in research, so far it had been futile, when his cell phone rang. Predictably the caller ID said Dean. He flipped it open.


"I`m bored."

Dean sounded like a petulant child and incidentally so much like his true self that Sam couldn`t help but smile. It gave him a nice fuzzy feeling of normalcy.

"You`re bored... ," he repeated.

"Dude, this TV is antique. It has like four channels," his brother complained.

"Let me guess, no porn?", Sam teased. He hadn`t even glanced at his own TV.

"Hey, I`m not sex crazed... Am I?", the older man sounded unsure.

"You were always popular with the guys," Sam couldn`t help it. Right now, everything felt so right.


Had that come out as a squeak? Sam decided it most definitely had.

"You didn`t notice?" Hopefully Dean wouldn`t catch onto the giggle he barely managed to suppress.

"Uhm no I... well I thought with the nurses and... okay, maybe that one doctor was kinda cute but ... I didn`t..."

A flabbergasted Dean was a cute Dean. Mostly because you didn`t see him that often. Still, time to take pity on him, Sam thought. "Relax, dude. I`m just kidding."

There was an audible sigh of relief over the phone. "Not funny, you jerk... So are you gay,"
he added as an afterthought.

Now it was Sam`s turn to be flabbergasted: "What?"

"Because it would be totally okay with me if you were. I mean I`m not some homophobic jerk. At least I don`t think I am."

Sam couldn`t decipher if his brother meant to be genuinely sincere and supportive here - he certainly sounded like it - or if he was just retaliating for Sam`s little joke.
He settled for a neutral tone: "I`m not gay."



"Nothing. You`re not gay. Check."

"What is it?", the playful atmosphere had evaporated, leaving the familiar feeling of frustration in its wake.

"It`s just, you hardly ever talk about yourself. Or me. Or what our life is like," Dean sounded frustrated.

"What do you wanna know?"

"Why are we in this motel?"

"Because we needed a place to stay?"

Sam could have sworn he actually heard Dean rolling his eyes.

"Thank you, Captain Obvious."

"I told you we`re on a road trip," he offered.

"Don`t we have jobs?"

"We`re kinda... doing various jobs... as they come up." Sam fidgeted.

"That explains everything," came the sarcastic answer.

"We help people," Sam tried to defend himself. And the irony of him defending their lifestyle to Dean wasn`t lost on him at all.

"By doing what?"

"People who are... threatened... or in danger...," Sam started carefully.

"Cool, like P.I.s or something?", now Dean sounded intrigued and a bit excited.

"Something like. We... specialize." God, this dancing around the subject was maddening.

Dean seemed to think so too. "In what?"

Well, he had to breach the subject sooner or later. Dean was way too vulnerable in his ignorant state. And he wasn`t any closer to finding a solution than he had been four days ago.

"Paranormal things."



"Awww man, don`t tell me we`re the kind of losers who check out haunted houses and ghosts and stuff."

"It`s not like that."

"Please tell me, we don`t have a lame-o website at least."

This was going nowhere, Sam thought.

"Our mother burned on the ceiling," he blurted out.

Again silence. Longer this time.

"In... in your nursery?", it came out in a hushed tone, as if his brother was afraid of his own voice.

Sam gripped the phone tighter. "You remember?"

"I have had weird dreams. I thought they were just nightmares..."

"What did you dream about?"

"A baby was screaming and there was a young woman on the ceiling. Blonde. About twenty-ish. She was on fire."

"Jess," Sam whispered. Dean`s subconscious had mixed up the two incidents.

"Jess? I thought our mother`s name was Mary?"

"Jess was my girlfriend."


Sam said nothing.

"So does that mean she was also...?" Dean trailed off.

"She died just like our mother did. Burning on the ceiling."


"Yeah." What else was there to say?

"Why? I mean, what did we do? Why did this happen to us?"

And wasn`t that the master question Sam had tried to find an answer for for the last twenty-seven years. So he tried for evasion.

"You believe me?"

"I guess," came the hesitant answer.


Dean remained quiet yet Sam could hear his soft breathing over the phone.

"I don`t know," he finally offered.

Sam was about to say something when he heard his brother`s muttering: "Damn lights. I bet the wiring in this junk is left-over from the civil war."

Right now Sam didn`t feel like pointing out that there hadn`t been much electric wiring during the civil war. Which Dean was aware of anyway. A feeling of dread began to creep into his stomach.

"Dean?" Hopefully he didn`t sound too anxious.

"Yeah, hold on a minute. The TV is acting up and the lights are flickering like crazy."

"Dean." Definitely anxious now.

When a scream was his only answer Sam was up and about in no time, running from his own room and towards Dean`s. Clutching his cell phone like a life line.

Crashing sound could be heard, muffled noises of pain. Then... nothing.

"Dean? Deeeaaaaannnn?"

But the little beep-beep-beep of the phone was his only answer...



Part 3


( 15 have dazzled me — Dazzle me )
Sep. 16th, 2006 12:31 am (UTC)
Eeeek! I'm really liking this story--the Sammy!angst is wonderful, and the supernatural aspect is interesting. I'm totally curious about where it's going next!
Sep. 16th, 2006 11:04 am (UTC)
Thank you so much. I love the angst but I wanted to have some snarky fun and some suspense in it too. I`m all about the package. :)

(Deleted comment)
Sep. 16th, 2006 10:58 am (UTC)
Why? I`m rather fond of Amnesia!Dean myself, the poor guy is all disoriented and confused but nevertheless his "Deanness" shines through loud and clear. ;)
Sep. 16th, 2006 06:22 am (UTC)
Poor Sam! Poor Dean! Poor Sam! (oops, already said that.)

Really great story....and what a cliffie!

Please post again soon (yes, I'm an angst ho, it's a terrible affliction....)
Sep. 16th, 2006 11:01 am (UTC)
Thank you, I`m a terrible angstie myself. Sometimes I like a good humor story (and it`s hell to write, I`m currently trying) but mostly I wanna put the poor guys through the ringer. They are so pretty when they suffer. *pets them* ;)

Sep. 16th, 2006 01:27 pm (UTC)
Good to see Dean's still Dean even if he doesn't remember:-).

Love the angst and what a way to leave it..LOL!

Look forward to more, thanks!
Sep. 16th, 2006 01:46 pm (UTC)
I thought traces of his "Deanness" would shine through sooner or later. Even if a person has lost their memories, I don`t think they`d lose their basic personality. They just might appear differently on account of being confused and unsure. Maybe even happier if they wouldn`t remember some trauma.

And yes, I`m evil and did a cliffie. Next part shouldn`t take too long to post though.

Thanks for commenting.
Sep. 16th, 2006 01:49 pm (UTC)
Okay I came over and read the first two chapters. I can't believe you left it like that (chapter 2).
This story's enjoyable as well. And wow. Not only did you give Dean amnesia (which I love by the way) - he can't even be in the same room as Sammy? That's just cruel. But such a good twist.

Lovin' this story so far. Can't wait to see what happens next. (And please update soon...lol)
Sep. 16th, 2006 01:57 pm (UTC)
Thank you.
I thought it would be a particular ironic twist to have Sam perform the ritual to not lose Dean and the main operative aka saving Dean was accomplished but he has still lost him now. Both emotionally and physically. Yes, I`m mean. ;)

But if it`s true that you only hurt the ones you love, fanfic writers must really love these guys. :D

(Deleted comment)
Sep. 20th, 2006 06:21 pm (UTC)
(honestly had goosebumps throughout that first chapter!).

Thank you. That`s a huge compliment.

And love how Dean's still 'Dean' and Sam's handling of everything.

I had way too much fun writing amnesia!Dean with all his "Deanism" shining through. And Sam tries and tries so hard yet things keep piling up on the brothers. *pets them*

Chapter 3 is up already, the big finish will hopefully follow soon.
Sep. 20th, 2006 09:11 pm (UTC)
Loving the story thusfar!
Want more!
Need immediate satisfaction!
Sep. 20th, 2006 09:34 pm (UTC)
Thank you so much.

Want more!
Need immediate satisfaction!

Since I`m not Dean I can`t promise satisfaction :) but Chapter three is up and running. Linked it in the comment above.

Sep. 22nd, 2006 07:59 pm (UTC)
*Shrieks with absolute joy!!*


More, more, more!!!

*Whimpers pathetically...*

*Licks Dean*

Sep. 22nd, 2006 08:06 pm (UTC)
I just replied to your first comment but seems like you found your way to chapter 2 already. Oh, and you read it in one go, that made me squee. *hugs back*

Really, you`ve made my day here with your comments. Thanks so much.

*Licks Dean*

He is very lickable, isn`t he? ;)
Sep. 28th, 2006 11:08 pm (UTC)
Hi I am trying to put together a blogger teleconference with some of the cast of Supernatural for the CW if you are interested please email me at gedwards@mprm.com
( 15 have dazzled me — Dazzle me )



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