"Where have you been?" Dean asked you, as you continued to stare at him while standing as close as possible to Sam. 

"I'm not sure. I woke up here." You stuttered, a little flustered under his heavy gaze. He was handsome, that was for sure, and you could immediately feel a connection to him. It was just frustrating that you had no idea what that connection was, or what it meant for you.

"Dean, listen. Y/N was here the whole time I think. I found her in the morgue when I was looking for supplies for a cure." Sam explained.

"Well that's weird. What the hell were you doing in the morgue? You just vanished after that cloud." Dean said, taking a step towards you, and in turn you took a step back. He noticed, and his frown increased. "And why are you so scared of me? See, the Mark's gone."

"Dean, she..." Sam started to say, but you spoke up for yourself.

"I don't remember you!" You exclaimed. "I don't remember anything except for waking up in the morgue.

"Are you freaking kidding me?" Dean grumbled. "Why can't we have something normal happen to us for once. Something good? I'm so sick and tired of this. Maybe God doesn't want us to be together." You heard him say, even though he muttered it quietly. But the venom behind the words, the desperation and despair, had your heart breaking for the man you couldn't even remember.

"Dean, calm down. We will figure this out. We just need to get back to the bunker. Maybe the men of letters have something that will help." Sam said, trying to ease the tension that was as tight as a string between the two of you.

"The bunker?" You asked softly, noticing how Dean's pupils in his emerald green eyes grew wider at your words. He sighed, your words seeming to disappoint him more than anything.

"Yeah, the bunker. Our home. A place you say you absolutely love." Dean told you. His hand moved forward, as if he was reaching for yours, but a look of indecision crossed his face and he dropped it.

"Well, let's go. Whats the worst that could happen?" You asked, jogging down to the car before sliding into the backseat. Once they were both inside, Dean started the car, and the awkward road trip began.

_____________________________________

"Seriously? This is the bunker? It's amazing!" You said while standing in the middle of the library, turning in a circle.

Dean chuckled, before dropping everyone's bags on the table. "Yeah, it's home." He agreed.

"No, it's not just home, it's like a hidden world, that's just for us! I love it!" You exclaimed, watching as the beginning of a smile had the side of Dean's lips tilted up. 

"Of course. You always said this place was always better than the dream of a normal house and white picket fence." He told you, and your mood dimmed a little bit upon remembering, well that you couldn't remember anything.

"I'm sorry Dean." You whispered, even though it was only the two of you in the room. Sam had already gone on to one of the storage rooms, looking for answers.

He grabbed two crystal glasses, filling them with whiskey before handing you one. "What are you sorry for?"

Taking a sip, you let it burn down your throat before you answered him. "I know this can't be easy for you. I can already feel this connection between us. My body remembers you, and I think my subconscious does too. I'm just sorry I'm making life more difficult than it already is." 

He set his cup down before grabbing your hands. You let him, the familiar spark running from his hands, all the way up your arms. "You don't have to apologize, not for this. We will get your memories back, and then we will find out why they were taken in the first place. I just wish Cas was here, he might have an idea of what to do."

"Cas?" You repeated, the name rolling easy off of your tongue. 

"Yeah, he's an Angel and a buddy of ours. But I received a weird phone call from him, and now there's nothing." Dean said, worry creating lines in his forehead. 

It was then you heard the thunderous sound of Sam's footsteps as he raced up the hallway, stopping when he reached the door. His hands were full, multiple storage boxes in his arms. His shirt was dusty, and you were pretty sure there was a cobweb stuck in his hair. "Hey guys, I think there will be something in here."

He plopped them down in front of you on the table, and soon the three of you became covered in dust as you pulled out file folder after file folder. You weren't exactly sure what you were looking for, but the looking was interesting. There were folders in here about different monsters, different reversal spells, even about Dorothy herself. "Wait, Dorothy is real? As in the one who went to Oz?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah, we met her around a year ago. Interesting person.

Hours passed, and you found your eyes drifting shut on more than one occasion. Dean finally noticed, and you jumped when you felt his arms sliding underneath you. "Shhh, let's get you to bed." He whispered into your ear, and you relaxed, letting your head rest against his solid and warm chest. He carried you down the hallway, shoving a door open with his shoulder, before gently laying you down on the bed. You turned to your side, ready to let sleep over take you, but he had different ideas. 

You heard him rumbling about for a moment, before he came back. "Sit up." He ordered, but you just mumbled incoherently, before snuggling deeper into the bed that smelled like him. "Come on sweetheart, let's get you out of those clothes and into something more comfortable."

He helped you sit up, your eyes still closed until he reached for the hem of your shirt. That woke you up. "Woah, what do you think you're doing?" You asked.

"I told you. I'm helping you get ready for bed. And it's not like I haven't seen it before. Honey, I always enjoy this view." He told you, and you blushed furiously.

"You're probably right. But until I get these stupid memories back, it just feels a little weird." You told him. You watched as his shoulders drooped a little bit, but he gave in. Handing you the simple shirt, he stepped back.

"I get it, I guess. I'm going to head back, and help Sammy some more. You try and get some sleep." He said, backing out of the room. As soon as he was gone, you stripped, pulling on the worn and soft t-shirt. 

Slipping back into bed, you cuddled tightly into one of the pillows, a major headache forming. You knew it was from all that happened the past day. It was so frustrating, this not remembering. Not just for you, but for them too. You knew that Dean was hurting, and you wished you could do more to help him. But, until you could remember, you weren't sure how.

You weren't sure how long it was, but you finally relaxed enough to sleep. It wasn't an easy sleep, you kept tossing and turning, visions filling your mind. Visions of Dean, with his black eyes, towering above you, being cruel and hurtful. Visions of Dean, holding you close as you watched a meteor shower on the hood of the Impala.  You weren't sure if these were things your mind was making up, or if they were truly memories, but it felt nice to have something solid to hold on to, even if the first vision scared you immensely. 

As you tried to fall back asleep for the third time, you heard the door squeak open, the light turning on, before footsteps headed your way. "Y/N, are you awake?" Came Dean's voice. 

You sat up in the bed, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. You weren't sure if you felt better, or worse after your attempted nap. "I think so."

"Here drink this." He told you, thrusting a glass into your hands. Looking down, you turned your nose at the vile looking liquid it held. 

"What the hell is this?" You asked him, holding it far away from you.

He sat down on the edge of the bed, just as Sam came into the room. "We scoured every inch of those files, and this is the only thing we could find that might work. It was used when one of them had gotten into a car accident and lost their memory. It worked for him, hopefully it will work for you."

You glanced down again at the thick, almost purple in color liquid. An odor came off of it, smelling like a mixture of grapes, whiskey, and old gym socks, not a great combination. Taking a deep breath, you pinched your nose shut before gulping it down in one shot. Even with your nose pinched, you could still taste the disgusting liquid as it slid down your throat, and you found yourself gagging.

Holding a hand over your mouth, you waited for it to settle in your stomach. Once you felt like it wouldn't come back up, you moved your hand, only to let out the most disgusting burp that had ever left your mouth. Dean chuckled deeply, and you looked a little embarrassed.

"Now what?" You asked, not feeling any different. Dean looked to Sam, who shrugged.

"They didn't say to do anything else." He explained, but then you started to feel different. A warmth spread from your belly, heading up your body, before entering your head. It wasn't painful, but the pressure kept growing and  growing in your head, and soon you closed your eyes, holding your head that felt like it could fall off at any minute.

"Y/N?" Dean asked worriedly. 

You couldn't answer him, as all of your memories came flooding back, pounding your brain as they tried to fit themselves back in. Your headache returned, ten fold, and you felt yourself swaying on the bed. 

"Damn it Sam! Maybe we shouldn't have trusted it." Dean yelled, helping you lay back on the bed. But just as soon as the pain started, it ended, and you felt wonderful.

"Y/N?" Dean asked cautiously as you laid still in his arms.

"Hey Dean." You answered him back, opening your eyes to see his staring down at you. "It's nice to be back."

You felt his sigh of relief, before he crushed you to him in a tight hug. You held on tightly, grateful to be back in his arms. "Wait!" You said, pulling back a little, looking down at his arm. "The Mark, it's still gone, right?"

He nodded. "Yeah thanks to you and Sam who refused to give up. But now we have a bigger problem on our hands." He told you, ruining the happy moment.

You thought back to what happened after the incident with Death in the restaurant. "That Bitch!" You exclaimed.

Both Sam and Dean jumped at the venom in your words. "Who?" Dean asked you.

"She called herself the darkness. She wanted me out of the way, because she's connected to you. That's why I was in the hospital. That's why I couldn't remember anything, and why I had that stupid sickness." You told him.

"Wait a minute. You talked to her too?" Dean asked you, his arms tense as they held your shoulders. 

"Yeah, during the storm. She pulled me from the car, wondering what was so great about me. She wanted to see why I held such a high place in your heart. Then she said she needed me out of the way." You explained, watching as a frown etched itself on his face.