•Unwritten•

Eighteen

I sat on the edge of the bed awkwardly, twiddling my thumbs. Sam was changing clothes in the bathroom and Dean had popped out to get some things from the grocery store and find out what happened when Sam got to this motel. The door to the motel and the bathroom door opened simultaneously as both brothers stepped in unison, it was pretty creepy.

"What'd you find out?" Sam asked, he seemed a little more himself since we'd first gotten here.

"You checked in a few hours after leaving us under the name Richard Sambora. Of course, I think the scariest part about this whole thing is the fact that you're a Bon Jovi fan," Dean started chuckling and both Sam and I shot him a dirty look.

"Your room's been quiet, nobody's noticed anything unusual." Dean rolled his eyes and Sam sighed.

"You mean no one saw me walking around covered in blood?"

As Sam spoke, I saw a man walk past the window, it was only quick but I could've sworn it looked like he glitched as he walked past, like a spirit.

"Yeah. That's what I mean." Dean placed his bag of groceries down on the table, reaching in and chucking me over an apple, I caught it and examined it for a second before taking a bite.

"Then how the hell did I get here, Dean? What happened to me?" Sam's voice raised slightly.

I imagined it was difficult, having no memory of the past almost two days.

"I don't know. But you're, you're okay, and that's what matters. Everything else we can deal with." Dean spoke calmly, he was obviously just relieved that Sam wasn't hurt.

Sam scoffed. "Oh really? 'Cause what if I hurt someone? Or worse?" He looked over to me, his eyes almost spiteful. "What if this is what Dad warned you about? I could've killed someone, and she might be next." I almost choked on my apple. That was not what I expected his next words to be, he never usually brought me into his insecurities about what his dad had said to Dean, he knew that I had my own.

"Hey, whoa, whoa, come on man, let's not jump the gun here. We don't know what happened. We've just got to treat this like, like any other job. What's the last thing you remember?"

Sam sat down on the bed and let out a heavy sigh. "Um, we were in the motel, eating burgers. Next thing I knew I was sitting here. Bloody. Felt like I'd been asleep for a month." He shook his head and began rubbing his temples.

I took another slow bite of my apple. "So maybe we retrace your steps?" I said after swallowing. Sam looked at me like I was an idiot, a look I'd never received from him before and it made me uneasy. Dean noticed, I could tell by the frown on his face.

"Yeah that's good, retrace your steps. The manager said you left yesterday afternoon and he never saw you come back, so-" As Dean pulled back the curtain his words trailed off. I stood up to see what he was seeing, maybe it was the apparition I thought I'd seen but instead it was a bloody fingerprint on the window sill.

"Oh gosh."
...
I sat in the motel as Sam and Dean walked around the building, trying to see if anything sparked any memories. Something didn't feel right about Sam, I figured it was just because he'd been through a stressful ordeal but for some reason I couldn't feel the connection we usually had. Instead I just felt cold.

"Can you see me?"

My head shot up to the man that had appeared in front of me and I nodded slowly.