My deepest deepest deepest apologies for not updating in a long, long, long, long, long, long, long, long time. But I can explain somewhat:

1. I have a job now that takes up my weekends. 2. I have lots and lots of homework. 3. I kind of failed my exams so I have extra work to do. 4. I have slipped and as it turns out, need to be reminded daily to always keep fighting as most days I can't remember why I should 5. I procrastinate... a lot. 6. I haven't been writing because I've been reading. 7. I'm back at school. 8. I didn't know how to do this chapter. 9. When I thought I knew how I was going to do this chapter, it becomes deleted. 10. It took even longer to remember how I wanted to do it again after I lost it.

So those are my excuses. They're poor but I've got literally nothing else.

I truly hope you can forgive me and please thank Dragonblaze66 for kicking my arse into gear in order to finish the chapter.

Speaking of which: begin!

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But one vehicle was missing. Where it should be parked was a note.

Gone out to clear head.
Don't know when I'll be back.
I'll be fine.

Dean had gone out of the Bunker, and he took the motorcycle with him.

When Dean left Sam and Cas together in the library, he was fuming and filled with grief he didn't understand. He didn't know that girl, he had never seen her before in his life yet he missed her. Though, perhaps it was more guilt than grief. He had begun to realise how many people suffered either at the hands of him or because they knew him. When he had asked Sam how many people had died because of him, Sam refused to name them all. That statement alone meant there was going to be a long long long list. He couldn't deal with that.

Sam and Cas assumed that he went to his room but Dean didn't. He leaned against a wall and slid down wondering if there was any point to... well anything at all. So when he heard them leave, Dean was more than eager to do the same. Even if it was only for an hour or so, but he couldn't stay anymore in this graveyard full of supposed dead friends and family.

He grabbed a wallet and a phone and walked around the Bunker for ages to try and find a way out, like a simple door or something. Dean eventually found a sign pointing to the garage and made his way there. Once inside, he was filled with awe at the sight of such beautiful cars and bikes, he knew one of them belonged to him. Sam had told him it was his "baby". But his eyes landed on one of the motorbikes at the end, it was deep red, like spilt blood, an extremely large windshield and an old satchel with an even older tin head inside it. He tossed it aside and admired it even more. His admiration suddenly became curiosity which soon morphed into a desire to ride the red beast. He began to felt bad at what Sam might think when he returned to find him gone. He grabbed the browned notepad from the satchel and jotted down a quick note to his 'brother' and 'friend'.

He gladly pushed open the huge doors that led to an underground tunnel that must eventually lead outside. And he was right. As soon as he left the tunnel on the bike, he was welcomed by a incredibly chilling, winter breeze that didn't faze him but instead feel more free. Free from Sam, free from Castiel, free from Dean. Dean was as much of a stranger as the rest of them. But in that moment he let it all go and simply rode through town, then through the town after that, then the town after that. Until he stopped at some seedy, sleazy side-road bar.

'Perfect.' He thought smiling. He didn't know this but if Sam could have seen him right then, he would assume all was right and Dean was Dean again.

He would have walked in there large as life he were normal, if he knew who he was or how he acted. But he knew nothing of himself. So he crept in and asked the gorgeous, young, blonde bartender for a double scotch. She smiles and obliges but he doesn't act on it. On anything besides ordering a few more shots.

"Honey, why don't you slow down?" She smiled. "If you're not careful you're going to wake up tomorrow not knowing who you are."

Dean chuckled. "Too late." He muttered to himself. "Fine then, what would you recommend?"

She giggled. "Well, you can never go wrong with a simple beer."

"Sounds great." He replies as she gets a bottle of El Sol from behind her, neither of them knowing it was his favourite beer. It wasn't long until he finished the bottle and decided he would go hit up a liquor store and get blitzed by himself alone in an empty motel room.

But before he could, the barmaid practically leapt from behind the counter to stop him from leaving so soon. "Hey, um. If you want, you could always have another beer, on me, and wait until my shift is over. Which is in 20 minutes." He had to admit he was tempted but his heart just wasn't in it. "I would love to get to know you."

"You and me both," he said before pushing her slightly out of the way. "Sorry maybe next time."

He made it to the door but stopped when he heard her say from behind him. "Next time isn't an option." Dean turned around only to be hit in the head with a empty bottle of jack. He fell to the floor, the head wound wasn't bleeding that badly but it still hurt like hell.

"What the-?" He tried to formulate the words but suddenly it all went dark after seeing the welt and heel of some guy's hardened, leather boots.

He came to slowly and sluggishly. His head felt like a truck had loaded a tonne of bricks on top of it, leaving the worst headache ever, not to mention the hangover did no help. He feebly lifted his head up. His sight was blurry to say the least, the small dim light that hung from the ceiling was blinding, but his vision became clear enough to notice the figure walking towards him. Dean tried to move, only to realise he had been tied to a chair.

"Well, well, well. Dean Winchester." It wasn't the female bartender. "Honestly, after everything I heard, I would've thought that you would be harder to catch. Off your game tonight then?"

He once again tried to make the words come out of his mouth, but the pounding and thumping in his head made it more difficult. He finally got the words out: "W-what do you want?"

She stopped smiling. "Well, I'd like my family back. But that isn't going to happen is it?" The blurriness began to fade and he realised that the room was a lot more crowded than he initially thought. There was about fifteen or so people in the room, all angry, all in plaid, all carry a weapon of some kind; gun, knife, baseball bat, you name it and surely one of them was carrying it. "And I know I'm not the only one thinking that..." She could see the puzzled look on his face and continued. "Do you even know who I am? Or what you did?"

"No, but I can explain that..."

"Oh can you now?!"

"Yes I can. From you guys' outfits and choice of accessories," he remembered the term Sam used to describe what the both of them used to do for a 'living', "I'm guessing you're all hunters."

"No." She replied. "Just real pissed off."

"Why? What... I don't know or remember what I did."

"Yeah right! You don't remember being the reason by two girls are dead. It's your fault, if you hadn't worked it out sooner that Meg was possessed I wouldn't have lost her or my other daughter! How could not remember? Or do you leave so many dead bodies around you, that you've stopped listing them and choose to forget them."

"No it's not that, something happened and I don't remember anything."

She stared at him for a moment then looked at the others. They either shook their head or remain looking too confused to decide if it was the truth or not. She turned back to him. "Well, personally I'm not buying this crap you're selling. You just don't want to look behind you and see the destruction that comes from your existence... you're the reason my daughters are dead! You couldn't save his girlfriend from a were-wolf," she began pointing to the other people in the room, "she lost her entire family in the 8.1 earthquake in Boston which was caused by the apocalypse, that you and your little brother Sam started in the first place. And most recently, he lost his brother when a woman in black robes, who claimed she was looking for God, killed him."

He looked amongst them all and was reminded of the reason why he didn't want to remember.

"I'm sorry. But I don't remember any of these times. Something happened, something unnatural - like what happened to your families and relationships and friends - happened to me. And I don't remember anything. I'm sorry."

The woman who lost her daughters turned to the rest of them again. "I think he's telling the truth."

"No way, it's a little coincidental don't you think? The minute he shows up and we get him, he loses his memory."

"No." The bartender from earlier spoke. "He's different."

"Different how?"

"I met him once. He was pretending to be FBI when he was trying to find out what was killing people and would later kill my boyfriend, but he seemed so different to him now. The guy then was cocky and flirty with the female officers and never once stopped staring at them. But this guy... I practically had to force myself on him earlier."

"Now you believe him too?" One of the other guys asked.

"Think about what happened to our loved ones, it's not implausible that something happened to him."

"Well, memory or no memory. He still needs to be punished." The same guy as before said, stepping forward. Under the light, Dean could see the scar on his face. "Well, you don't remember but you're the reason my wife is dead. A fucking were-wolf of all things, attacks us and you're there to try and stop it. You saved lucky ole me but it was too late to save Vanessa who wasn't dead but turned. And you put her down and called an ambulance for me before you fled the scene, you spineless, murderous son of a bitch." Dean expressionless face broke and let his story in. "That is why, memory or no memory, he has to be punished. And his brother." he turned back to Dean who looked emotionally as he was physically in pain. "Now, how do we find him."

To call Sam distraught was a massive understatement. There was no word in the oxford dictionary to even remotely describe what he was feeling. Cas had searched the town to see if he was here. But with the warding still engraved into his ribs, Cas was unable to track Dean or locate his whereabouts. In the amidst of their worrying, they failed to notice when Gabriel and Amara returned.

"Hey, Cas! Look what we have."

"Gabriel, you have Lucifer's tablet? What does it say?"

"Well, it's already a lot more about God already." Amara began.

"I s'pose he planned his extended vacay in advance, Dad was always so prepared."

"It includes a means of contacting him."

"Can it be done through the prison?" Cas asked.

"It doesn't say... But there was something written on the other tablet, after it spoke of opening the door, it explained about communication. But it required essence of the prisoner."

Gabriel intervened. "We could use memory boy's blood. That's his essence. Where is he?"

Sam and Castiel remained silent. The silence became deafening even for creatures of primordial, rapturous, sanctifiable and angelic divinity, such as themselves.

"Where is Dean?" Amara now questioned.

"We don't know." Cas spoke for the both of them and handed Gabriel the note they had found.

"You lost him?"

"No, he must've left him while we were in Hell. I didn't think he'd be stupid enough to leave." Sam argued.

"He's Dean, whether he remembers it or not, he'll always be a dick and an idiot. You can't change that about him."

"You're right... you're right." Sam would not have been surprised if a light bulb had appeared from his moment of clear realisation. "You're right. And you know what else wouldn't change; his alcoholism."

"So check bars, liquor houses, motels, ladies apartments - I got dibs on the last one." Gabriel smirked.

"How far should we go?" Amara asked.

"Well he probably wouldn't have left Lebanon, and definitely not Kansas. More than likely he would stay near just to make sure he wouldn't get lost."

But before they could set off. Sam's phone began to ring. His heart leapt out of his chest with joy; it was Dean's number.

"Dean? Hey where are you?"

"He's a little tied up right now, so I'll be speaking for him." An unexpected voice said.

"Where is my brother?" Sam's voice darkened, it dripped hatred and disgust, but to Castiel and even Gabriel and Amara, it appeared as just a show to mask the worry and terror he felt for Dean.

"Oh, I'll be more than happy to tell you where we are. But you have to promise that not one of your friends comes along with you. Honestly, it'll be too crowded and I'm not a fan of unnecessary appearances from other hunters - especially innocent ones. Fail to do this Sam, and Dean dies." The man hanged up on Sam. Just as Sam was about to throw and smash the phone against the wall, it vibrated and a text with the location appeared.

"I'm coming with you Sam." Cas stated.

"He said to come alone." Sam replied.

"Actually," Gabriel interrupted, "he said not to bring your friends." He smiled finding the loophole. "And to be honest, I like you but you're more of an ally than a friend still."

"I find you much less appealing than your brother." Amara added.

"And I'm your family. So none of us are your friends or hunters." Cas pointed out.

"I am also not to be dictated by an annoying insect of my brother's creation." Said Amara.

"Okay, if you're sure. Let's go."

Sorry to leave it there but I can't go on. It's half one now and I've been writing for ages. I will try to update more frequently than I have previously but no promises. My nan's seriously ill and I'm really worried. I hope it will all be okay and if it is I hope to update, but like I said no promises.

I pray you liked this as it's overdue. Please review and follow and favourite and blah blah blah. Also check out my youtube channel, some new videos up there as well. Also another reason as to why I have neglected my writing for so long.

Bye xxx

(Always Keep Fighting)