Note: Okay, it's LONG. Like, REALLY long. This is much more of a case fic than anything I've published so far. It's about 20k words and I know some of you may find that annoying but I couldn't find a good place to split it to do two parts. So I apologize if the length of this is inconvenient. Please let me know what you think of it as it's my first real case-like fic even if it's not formatted like cases in the show usually are. I started writing it about a month ago and it's been slow going because I wanted it to be good. I did take some liberties with the mythology here to make it fit the story. Without further ado, Anna is eleven in this chapter. Enjoy.

Virtually Nobody

"Sheriff." Jody Mills turned at the voice greeting her. She'd only just stepped through the doors of the station and here she was being called to action. She met eyes with Johnson, one of her better officers. "Brought in a runaway," he said, his expression grim. "And she ain't a happy camper."

Jody's eyebrows popped up of their own accord. Runaways weren't common in Sioux Falls but they'd seen a few lost kids before. She had no clue what to expect. On top of that, Johnson made it sound like the kid was angry, maybe fighting them a lot. "How old?" she asked, setting down the coffee she'd picked up while on patrol.

Johnson shook his head. "Ten," he said. "Eleven maybe."

Jody frowned and made her way over to him so he could show her this kid. "You sure you're not guessing wrong?"

"I know," he said. "Awfully young for a runaway, Sheriff, but I swear she can't be more than twelve at the oldest."

"Maybe she's not a runaway," Jody answered, already thinking through several possible scenarios. She turned the corner past Johnson and headed for the cells. "You locked her up?" she asked. "Or is she in the interrogation room?"

"She's in a cell. I didn't want to, Sheriff, but she wouldn't stop fightin'."

"I understand," Jody said, all business. "Was she hurt at all?" she asked, coming to stand in front of the cell. The girl was small and Jody had to wonder if she was even ten or eleven. She'd pulled her feet up onto the small bench in the cell and buried her face in her knees. She had dirty blonde hair that hung in tangled curls over her legs and down her back. Her canvas jacket was torn on one side and there were several small rips in the right leg of her jeans. She was covered in a layer of dust, and on one hand was a long, shallow scratch.

"I'm sorry, Sheriff, but every time we tried to get a look at her, she got spooked. We were just scaring her, so we stopped trying." He paused. "She's got a scratch on her hand, though."

"That's alright," Jody said, noticing the apology in the officer's voice. "Get the first aid kit from the front. I'll see what I can do."

Johnson started to go then turned back around. "Should warn you... she hasn't spoken a word."

Jody frowned but waved for him to go get the first aid kit. She knew there were a lot of possible reasons for a child to refuse speaking. It was possible, of course, that she really couldn't speak and was mute. But there was also the chance that this was a trauma response. Then, she could be familiar with this situation and have a dislike for cops which led her to play mouse. But Jody was fairly certain this kid was just scared if the way the little girl was shaking meant anything.

"I'm gonna open the door," she said gently, being sure to smile softly so that if the girl looked up, she wouldn't feel threatened. "Since you're not really a prisoner." Jody eased the door open with a squeak from the hinges and stepped into the cell, stopping when she was a few feet from the bench where the girl was sitting. "If something happened to you, if somebody hurt you, all you have to do is tell us. We'll help you, get you back to your home, your family."

There was no answer, but the girl wrapped her arms more tightly around her stomach.

Jody's face twisted in sympathy, but she wiped the look away quickly. "I'm not going to hurt you, Sweetheart," she promised. "I'm here to help you. I need to know if you're hurt, and I need to know your name. That's all." When the little girl barely twitched, Jody stepped a little closer, hearing footsteps behind her come and then go. She knew the first aid kit was waiting for her just outside the cell. "No matter what happened," she said emphatically, her empathy audible. "We will help you. I will."

Slowly, with endless caution, the girl began to raise her head. When two scared green eyes opened in a freckled, tear-stained face to meet Jody's gaze, the sheriff couldn't help but look on in shock. Her surprise only increased when the girl spoke, her voice so small and raspy it was barely there.

"I don't know what happened," she whispered, choking through more tears. "I don't know my name. That's the problem."

Jody frowned and she couldn't seem to get the surprise out of her expression either. "It's alright, Sweetie," she said, truly believing it this time. She knew how to help this particular little girl, and she didn't need any more information to do so. "I know who you are. We'll figure everything out."

The girl sniffled, using the sleeve of her jacket to wipe her nose. She blinked, making more tears slide down her face. "You know me?" she asked, her voice still small as she hunched in on herself. "You know my name?"

Jody nodded, finally managing to school her features into her usual kind confidence. "Your name is Anna," she said, taking the girl's hand and rubbing her thumb back and forth in a comforting motion. "Anna Winchester."

()()()

"You're sure she's okay?"

"You want me to write it in golden ink, Singer? I said she's alright and I meant it."

Bobby glared at the Sheriff of Sioux Falls and sighed. "Don't get your panties in a twist," he said. "You know those boys'll be asking and I don't wanna miss nothin'."

Jody nodded, taking a breath to calm down. Somehow, Bobby always managed to get her all riled up within a couple exchanged sentences. "She's in the back of the patrol car," she said. "There's one major problem here, though, Bobby."

"And that would be?" Bobby asked, tilting his head slightly as his eyes narrowed in question.

Jody glanced over her shoulder at the car where Anna's silhouette was still visible. She looked back at Bobby and leaned in a little. "She doesn't remember anything."

Bobby's eyes widened, but his expression quickly twisted into frustration. "Balls!"

"Couple of my officers picked her up, said she was walking the road into town, looking lost. She had a pocket knife and a note on her, but no bag, no food, no water, not even a change of clothes. It's no wonder she's in the state she is."

"What do you mean by that?" Bobby asked, hoping to everything he didn't believe in that little Anna wasn't hurt or traumatized.

"I just mean she's filthy, she's hungry, she's dehydrated. Poor thing's been on her own who knows how long."

"Four days," Bobby said. "It's been four days since she went missing. Had Sam and Dean on the phone every hour. They're tearing the state apart trynta find her."

"So they're nearby?" Jody asked, looking over her shoulder once more. She didn't think Anna was a flight risk, but she wasn't about to take chances. After all, if she lost her memory and then met a police officer who brought her to a salvage yard claiming she had a relative there... she might not be inclined to believe that. She might be inclined to go far, far away.

"Yep. They left my house the day she disappeared. The way Dean tells it, they drove for a few hours, stopped in Okaton for the night and when they woke up 'next morning, she was gone."

"Okaton? Well, are they still there?"

"No," Bobby said. "They scoured that town one day, the surrounding areas the next. They contacted every hunter buddy any of us got to be on the lookout. They checked a few more towns on the way, but this morning, they called, said they were headed back here and come up with a game plan."

"So they're close?"

"Should be. Bring her inside. I'll call 'em up. No sense makin' 'em worry any longer than they have to."

Jody nodded in agreement and went back to the car. She eased the back door open and was greeted by those wide green eyes looking up at her, waiting for answers, waiting for reassurance. "Come on, Sweetheart," Jody prompted, stepping aside to let Anna out of the backseat.

Anna, who had remained mostly quiet after the initial interaction at the station, stuck close to Jody's side as they walked into the house and to the living room which appeared to double as a library. "This is your- uncle," Jody said by way of introduction, stuttering only momentarily as she remembered how she'd heard Anna address Bobby back when those zombies terrorized her town. "Your Uncle Bobby. He's gonna take care of you until your brothers get here."

"My uncle..." Anna repeated, staring inquisitively at Bobby, who was talking into a phone on the other side of the room. Jody guided her by the shoulders to stand next to the desk where Bobby was sitting.

"She's right here, Dean, standing in front of me." Bobby paused, looking hesitant. "One problem with that- I will, I will put her on, just hold your horses, boys. I gotta tell you something." He took a breath and looked Anna in the eyes. She had that look he was so used to, but it looked just a little wrong. She was trying to put together a puzzle, but the puzzle was him. She wanted to know something, like she always did, but he wasn't used to being something she didn't understand or remember. He pulled the phone away from his ear for a moment. "No chance you suddenly remember everything, is there, kid?"

Anna's expression tightened and she shook her head.

Bobby pulled the phone back to his ear with a look he hoped was reassuring to the child in front of him. "She's alright," he said into the phone. "It's not that- I'm gettin' to it if you'd shut up." He looked at Anna again. "She's lost her memory," he finally blurted, his voice serious. "Do I sound like I'm jokin'?" Bobby sighed. "Just what I said, she don't remember anything 'bout herself, 'bout this place, 'bout you two." There was another pause. "I know. I've got her now. She's safe. So get here." Bobby rolled his eyes. "What do you take me for? A natural born idjit? She's in good hands." Bobby listened to the boys on the other end of the line for a second and looked hesitant again. "You sure you want to? Half an hour ain't so long to wait." He shook his head in exasperation. "Alright." He held the phone out to Anna. "Your brothers are on the phone," he explained. "And they want to speak to you. That alright with you?"

Anna looked nervous, but she took the phone in one hand and held it cautiously to her ear. She flinched a little when a voice came through the phone. "Anna? That you, kiddo?"

She swallowed. "I guess," she answered softly.

"God, I missed the sound of your voice, Rugrat."

"You okay, Anna? You're not hurt?"

Anna frowned when she heard the second voice, tilting her head down. Her hair fell down and hid her face and she curled her hand more tightly around the phone, like she needed it. "No," she said quietly. "Not hurt."

"We'll be there soon, Anna."

Anna didn't say anything, but she continued to press the phone tightly against her ear, not letting it go.

"You let Bobby take care of you, kiddo, you hear?"

Anna squeezed her eyes shut tightly. "Okay," she said so softly she could barely be heard.

"Okay, give me back to him," came the gentle request.

Anna reluctantly stepped forward and handed the phone back to Bobby. The voices gave her a headache, but she didn't want to let them go. Jody put a hand on her shoulder and pulled her a few steps away. "You must be hungry," she said. "Maybe a little thirsty still?" She'd had water at the station, but not food. Not to mention, she was filthy. Maybe they could clean her up a little before Sam and Dean arrived.

Bobby had finished the phone call and was walking over to them then. Anna had folded her arms around herself again in a self-hug that was likely for comfort. "I know you don't remember me," Bobby said. "But you stay here a lot. It's like home to ya, and I wouldn't have it any other way. That means you say if you need somethin'. Understood?"

Anna blinked and nodded slowly. She still appeared to be appraising everything with a new interest and at once distrustful nature. It was all very Anna, but it was also very wrong for her. She was supposed to know this house and the man who owned it. She was supposed to look at the world critically, with careful wonder and not open curiosity. But more importantly, she was supposed to know where she was safe and secure, where she could let herself be inquisitive without fear for consequence. She was supposed to know that Bobby Singer was one of the people she could trust.

"Good," he said instead of voicing any of that. "Let's get you cleaned up and fed, then, kid. Those brothers of yours will have my head if they see you in this condition."

Anna looked to Jody, a question in her eyes as she seemed to be thinking over all she'd learned in the past ten minutes or so.

Jody nodded to her, an encouragement for her to follow Bobby. "I have to get back to the station," she said. "But you're in good hands here, Sweetheart." She reached out and put a hand on the girl's shoulder with a confident smile. "I'll see you around."

Anna grabbed Jody's wrist with a small smile of her own. "Thank you," she said quietly, squeezing Jody's wrist a little.

Jody's smile widened instead of her giving a verbal response. She looked over at Bobby who was waiting in the doorway leading from his library to his kitchen. "Call me when you find out what's going on," she said, her demeanour returning to the usual business.

"Will do, Sheriff. Thanks for bringing the kid over."

"Just doing my job," Jody said. She looked back at Anna and smiled before heading for the door. "I'll see myself out," she offered with one last wave.

Anna watched her go, a touch of longing in her eyes. She'd begun to feel safe with the sheriff nearby. Jody had promised her answers. Anna turned toward Bobby Singer and narrowed her eyes thoughtfully. This man had those answers.

"You keep saying brothers," she said, her voice dimming. "Does that mean I'm an orphan?"

Bobby raised an eyebrow, surprised at how quickly she was jumping into an interrogation. "The questions can wait until after you've eaten something," he said, starting with that commanding voice he first adopted when he was left in charge of two little boys whose daddy was trying hunting on for size.

Anna fell silent again, seeming to accept the order. She followed Bobby into the kitchen where he pulled out the ingredients to slap together a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. He had Anna's preferred flavor of jam-- blueberry-- and her preferred peanut butter-- creamy-- because she stayed with him so often when she was younger and still from time to time now. He poured her a glass of milk and set the food down in front of her.

Anna reached out tentatively, lifting the sandwich to her mouth without looking at Bobby. She slowly began eating, though it was clear she had to hold herself back to keep from devouring the sandwich. She was starving.

"You want another one?" Bobby offered, leaning back against the counter with his arms crossed. The boys would be back any minute now and he was hoping to get Anna looking more presentable by the time they returned. But it was important that she was well fed first.

Anna shook her head, shrinking in on herself in her chair. "Thank you," she said in the same quiet voice she'd used on Jody earlier.

"Let me show you where your clothes and the bathroom are, then. You can take a shower and get yourself lookin' less like a swamp monster." He smirked and led the way back to the living room and up the stairs.

Anna smiled a little as she followed behind him. The staircase creaked beneath their feet and Anna stared at the wood beneath her feet, analyzing and questioning as she inched her way forward behind her 'uncle.' She had a million questions. The first and foremost had to do with who she was. Then there were questions about her family-- about why the only people she had to look forward to seeing were her brothers and not her parents. She didn't know a thing about the man taking care of her but the men on the phone had sounded so happy that she was safe and they'd said to let Bobby take care of her. Then again, she didn't know them either.

"My name is Anna," she said softly as they walked down a short hallway.

"Yep. Anna Winchester. Sheriff told you that, didn't she?"

"Yeah," Anna answered, looking down at her feet. "I got a middle name?" she asked, adopting some of Bobby's gruff manner of speaking in an attempt to level with him. She saw him smirk and shrunk a little. Had she done something weird? Was he laughing at her?

"Grace."

Anna swallowed and nodded. Anna Grace Winchester. It sounded right somehow even if it meant nothing to her. In fact, it left all of her questions unanswered and only raised a few more. Why was Anna Grace her name? Was she named after somebody? Was it a family name? Who named her? Were her parents alive long enough to do so? Were her parents alive now? Then she was back to the familiar cycle of questions about her family history.

"I know you got a lot of questions, kid," Bobby said while swinging open a door and flicking on the light. "But like I said, they can wait." He stepped inside. "Bureau's over there," he said, pointing. "And anything else you left here last time you stayed with me. I don't exactly keep track." He removed his ball cap long enough to scratch the back of his head before replacing it. "Anyway, uh, bathroom's right across the hall. Take a shower and come back downstairs, okay?" Anna nodded, sensing how uncomfortable he seemed to have gotten. "Okay," Bobby repeated and walked away. "Holler if you need something," he added over his shoulder while descending the stairs.

Anna watched him go, then turned around to look at the room he'd said was hers. A look of determination crossed over her face. She was going to find out who she was.

()()()

Five minutes later, Anna huffed, frustrated at her lack of progress.

She'd pulled the drawers out of the bureau and discovered only endless flannel shirts and several pairs of jeans. They were all pretty clean though a couple shirts smelled of smoke and a lot of the pains were ripped at the knees or bore small grass, dirt, or blood stains. She'd lingered for only seconds in front of the clothes that told her nothing except that she was practical, casual, a little messy.

Anna had turned quickly around and started rooting through the drawers of the desk, but there was almost nothing. A few leather bracelets, a bag of M&Ms, and a small photograph of a woman with blonde hair, green eyes, and a silver ring on her finger were the only items in the drawers aside from a mostly empty notebook of bad sketches and some pencils. Anna paused for a moment when she found the photo, wondering who this woman was. Probably a parent, she guessed. It sounded like hers were dead. It was only natural for a person to keep mementos of dead relatives.

She sighed and closed the drawer. She would bring the photo downstairs with her after she'd cleaned up. Bobby wouldn't give her answers until she had showered and changed like he told her too.

She hurried through her shower, taking little time to be frustrated with the tangled, dirty curls on her head as she shampooed her hair. When she stepped out, she dressed in a pair of dark-colored jeans, a t-shirt that read AC/DC on it, though she couldn't remember what an AC/DC was for the life of her, and a red and black flannel shirt. She used the sleeve of the flannel to wipe some of the condensation from the bathroom mirror and stared at her reflection, slightly distorted with steam and wholly dulled because her mind had been whitewashed.

When she opened the door and stepped out into the hallway in her socks, Anna felt vulnerable. Maybe the dirt and grime she'd been covered in had, in a way, been a means of protection, a layer of security between herself and the world. These people could claim to know her, but they didn't get to see her.

In the mirror was a child, cheeks decorated by freckles and a slight pink tinge that spoke of her youth. In the mirror was a girl aged only eleven years, with messy blonde curls that fell to her chest and dripped water onto her shirt. But cowering somewhere inside that child was a lifetime of harsh truths, dirty lies, naked fears, and infinite loss.

Anna stared at the reflection, knowing that she was seeing not only herself, but the girl Bobby knew, the girl Jody knew, the girl whose clothes smelled like smoke for good reason, the girl who felt safe under this roof, not vulnerable.

Anna wrapped her arms around herself as she walked back across the hallway to the room that belonged to the girl she was trying to remember. She retrieved the photograph that she'd left on top of the desk and shoved it in her pocket as she headed back toward the stairs. Her eyes tracked the other closed doors in the hallway as she passed them and she wondered if Bobby lived here alone or if he was married, had children, grandchildren maybe. He seemed old enough for grandchildren, Anna figured, shrugging to herself.

As the first step creaked beneath her sock-clad foot, Anna immediately heard a small commotion from the kitchen. Footsteps pounded, and she froze, her eyes widening at the noise. Her hand tightened around the railing and she swallowed.

Two men rounded the corner. They were positively ginormous.

Their faces went from urgent to relieved in the span of a few milliseconds when they saw Anna, and she hesitantly supposed that they must be her brothers. Bobby had said they would be there soon enough. Anna didn't move toward them until she saw Bobby turn the corner as well.

"A-are they-?"

"These are your brothers, kid."

Anna swallowed and slowly continued her way down the stairs. As soon as she got to the bottom, she was grabbed in a bear hug that she wasn't sure how to return by the shorter one-- if she used the word short very loosely. She swallowed, her heart pounding heavily in her chest at the show of affection.

He let her go and the other one-- the even taller one-- lifted her right off the ground in a hug as tight as the first one. "God, we were so worried, Anna," he said into her hair. He set her down and Anna stepped back, not speaking in case she might say the wrong thing.

"Sorry," the shorter-- well, less tall-- one said. "This must be weird for you, huh? Guess we're pretty much like strangers to you."

Anna nodded slowly. They both had changed their posture so they didn't appear so large and intimidating, instead putting themselves closer to her level. While Anna didn't directly take notice of the change, it did change her fear into something more like interest. She looked at their faces and could now find a kindness there that she hadn't seen before.

"We talked on the phone earlier," he said. "You remember?"

Anna nodded again, more confidently this time.

"Do you know who we are?" the taller one asked. His eyes were searching, but they were also understanding. She didn't feel terribly uncomfortable with his scrutiny. She shook her head. "That's okay," he said, appearing to sense her discomfort.

Anna stared at him. Before she could even think of something to say, she was surprised to feel her hand being grabbed by the shorter giant. "I thought you said you weren't hurt," he demanded seriously. When she cowered away instinctively, he modified his tone. "Sorry," he said quickly. "What happened to your hand, Anna?"

The little girl shrugged one shoulder. She looked less scared of him now, but she was still holding herself as far from him as possible even as he studied the long, thin scratch on her hand. He seemed to deem it superficial, though, as he let her hand go pretty soon.

"So, you don't remember much of anything, then, huh?"

"All I know," Anna said in a voice so soft it was almost a whisper. "Is that you're my brothers. Or that's what they say," she added, gesturing loosely at Bobby and thinking of the Sheriff.

"I'm Dean," said the slightly shorter one. He stepped forward and brushed her damp hair away from her face. "I'm the oldest which means I'm also the most awesome," he said with a charming smile and a wink. It put her at ease and Anna couldn't hold back a smile. "That's Sammy. He's a total geek. But don't worry about all the introductions, kiddo," he added, his smile fading but his kindness remaining. "We're gonna figure all this out," he promised without saying the words. "You'll remember everything in no time."

"But if we're gonna figure this out," Sam started, looking at Dean and then back at their sister. "Then we need you to tell us everything you do remember."

()()()

Sat across from her brothers at the kitchen table, Anna sat and stared at her hands while she struggled to think over what little she could remember. She couldn't seem to stop fidgeting nervously, twisting the braided bracelets on her wrist and swinging her feet back and forth, back and forth, back and forth.

"You don't remember us at all?" Sam clarified, leaning forward seriously and trying to catch her eyes.

Anna shook her head. "Nope."

"So what's the earliest thing you do remember?" he asked.

"Um, I mean, I remember waking up outside of this old hospital-- or I think it was a hospital. I- I don't... really know," she said haltingly.

"When was this?" Dean questioned, trying to put together a timeline.

"Um, yesterday," Anna answered after a moment's thought. "It was- It was pretty late, I think. It was just getting dark outside." She paused, waiting to see if they were going to say anything more, but they seemed to just be waiting for her to continue. "My head hurt and I was alone, so I thought I'd call 911, except I didn't have a phone."

"Yeah, you left it at the motel-" Sam cleared his throat and cut his eyes at Dean just as the older of the two seemed to realize his mistake.

"Motel?" Anna asked, pausing in her fidgeting. "We were at a motel? Why?"

Dean and Sam exchanged a look, and Bobby stepped forward from where he'd been standing behind them, leaning against his kitchen counter. "You three were on your way to someplace," he said easily. "You stopped for the night at a motel just to get some sleep and you'd have been back on the road if whatever happened to you hadn't happened."

Anna seemed to accept the answer for its logic and she looked back down at the table, curiosity dying down a little. "Sorry," she said. "I guess I messed things up a little."

"Hey, we don't know what happened," Dean said. "This isn't your fault, okay? We're just glad we found you." He offered a small, encouraging smile.

"Okay," Anna agreed, but she still looked frustrated. That frustration had more to do, though, with the situation as a whole than with any inconvenience she feared she might be causing.

"So you tried to call someone, but you didn't have a phone. Then what?" Sam prompted, eager to return to the matter at hand.

Anna shifted slightly in her chair. "Well, I found this note," she said. "In my pocket. All it said was Sioux Falls, SD, and it had some other words on it, but I- I don't think I speak the language."

"You have it on you?" Sam asked, eyes brightening with the possibility of a lead.

Anna bit her lip. "The sheriff took it," she said, an apology in her eyes. She looked to Bobby. "Is she comin' back?"

Bobby shrugged his shoulders. "I'll give her a call, though. If she don't have the time to come back out, I'll ride into town and get it from her. We're gonna need to look at it."

"Do you remember what the words were?" Dean asked. "Even just part of 'em?"

Anna squinted and tried to picture the small slip of paper she'd held in her hands. "Um... It looked like symbols to me, I can't even say what language it was."

For Pete's sake, she thought silently. She was eleven, they'd told her. How the hell could an eleven year old translate a language that didn't even use the same letters as her own? Was she some kind of genius and she just couldn't remember?

"But there was a number," she said before they had a chance to answer. "Nine, I think. That's it. I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Dean said. He reached over and grabbed her hand which had been continuing to fiddle with her bracelets. "We'll figure everything out. What else do you remember?"

Anna's hand twitched beneath his and she swallowed, uncomfortable with the contact. She didn't know this man. She didn't feel a connection to him. He seemed kind, though, trustworthy even. So did the other two. But they were all so serious, so intense. It seemed like Dean was the only one of them who knew how to smile and even he seemed to be forcing it, the expression never reaching his eyes. Every time he smiled it seemed more like a tool to put Anna at ease than a genuine expression of joy or even confidence that things would be okay. Maybe he sensed her discomfort or maybe he didn't, but Dean removed his hand from on top of hers.

"I didn't really know where I was, and I was... I was kinda scared 'cause it just kept getting darker, but I didn't want to go inside that hospital or whatever it was... 'cause I had a feeling there was something bad in there."

"Bad like how?"

"I don't know," Anna said, but she was clearly lying. She bit her lip again and looked down at her hands on the table. "I just had a bad feeling."

"Anna," Sam said, tilting his head so he could catch her gaze. Without thinking, Anna looked up and returned the eye contact. "I know you don't remember us," he said. "But we remember you, and we remember what you look like when you're lying." Anna would have grown nervous at the statement if not for the fact that Sam followed the comment up with a kind smile.

"We can't help you unless you're honest with us, kiddo," Dean added, his expression serious but not unkind. "And if you're holding something back because you think we won't believe you, I can tell you right now, we will."

Anna looked between the two of them and bit her lip again, clearly debating whether or not to say what she was thinking. She finally gave in, her voice quiet as she confessed, "There was something in the window."

"What kind of something?"

Anna shrugged, hunching in on herself self consciously. "It was just like a shadow, but it was looking at me. And it- it disappeared while I was watching it." Her eyes flitted up to their faces as if she was checking to see if they were judging her, making sure they didn't think she was crazy.

"What did it look like?" Sam asked. "Before it disappeared? Did it look human?"

"Yeah," Anna answered like it was obvious. She looked at them in confusion. "It was a woman, I think. There was a light on behind her and she just disappeared. It freaked me out. It's why I left."

"Okay, you left. Did she follow you?" Dean pressed.

Anna shook her head, though there was fear in her eyes that probably originated from last night when she'd been faced with the silhouette. "No, but I- I felt wrong after. I thought she was trapped in there, cause I just had this bad feeling in my gut." She swallowed, her face still tight with residual anxiety. "I tried to think of what to do, where to go, and I realized I couldn't even think of my own name. I panicked, I thought maybe I'd been trapped in there too and that something in there had hurt me, was gonna hurt her. I didn't wanna go, but there was this bright light and a whistling sound and I didn't know what to do so I just ran."

"That's exactly what you should've done, Ladybug," Sam assured her. "You ran and, what, you found help?"

"I tried, but I- I couldn't find anyone, and there were no road signs and it got dark." Anna fidgeted a little, shifting in her seat. "I kept walking 'cause I knew if I stopped I would just be too scared to sleep, and I felt bad for leaving that woman back there, and I was still afraid something would follow me." She was rambling by this point and Dean grabbed her wrist.

"Take it easy, Rugrat. Take a minute and breathe, alright?"

Anna nodded jerkily and took a deep breath. Instead of feeling uncomfortable with the contact this time, she welcomed it. His hand was warm and she felt safer now. These people really seemed to care about her, even if they were all about getting the facts. It occurred to her that they hadn't asked a single question until she'd had food, a shower, and was comfortable. That meant a lot.

"How'd you find Sioux Falls?"

"It was closeby," Anna answered, eyes still wide and fearful even as she began to feel calmer. "And these two cops found me walking down the road. I guess I missed the sign 'cause it was so dark. Or maybe there just wasn't one, I don't know. They brought me in and- and they put me in jail and I thought... They called me a runaway and I thought they would take me away someplace, but the sheriff got there and she took me here. I- I still don't remember anything, though."

"That's okay, Anna, we wouldn't expect you to. Odds are this is some kind of curse and that means it's not gonna go away until we figure out how to reverse it."

Anna looked at Sam in nothing short of bewilderment. "A curse?" she repeated.

"Yeah, kid, a curse," Bobby said gruffly. "Those exist. You know that, except you don't."

Dean and Sam both looked at Bobby incredulously. "What he's trying to say," Dean said, still giving Bobby a meaningful look. "Is that our family saves people from things like curses and ghosts and monsters. Our job is hunting down evil creatures and taking them out to keep people safe. So whatever happened to your memory, it's probably a curse, which means we can reverse it."

"Or it's a spell," Sam added. "Which would mean there's a counterspell." He scooted his chair back away from the table. "If we can see that note, we can probably figure this out pretty quick and then it'll just be a matter of finding the right spellwork and ingredients."

"You say that like it's gonna be easy," Bobby said, sounding like he thought the exact opposite.

"Well, it's a place to start anyway," Dean said with finality. He stood and Sam did the same. "Bobby, you want to head into town, see if Sheriff Mills is in? Sammy can start digging through the books you've got in the study, and-" He looked down at Anna, staring wide-eyed and interested as he discussed their game plan. "I'll stick with the runt," he said with a grin. It was so contagious because it was genuine, and Anna couldn't help but return it with one of her own.

"You probably have some questions too, huh?" Sam asked, looking at their little sister smiling. He gave her one of his own and headed into the next room with Bobby close behind.

"Why don't you call him Uncle?"

"What?" Dean asked, one eyebrow raised as he looked away from the two men leaving and back at his little sister. She was no longer smiling and her face was instead filled with curiosity.

"Uncle Bobby. The Sheriff said he's my uncle but if you're my brothers and you don't call him uncle then how's he my uncle?"

"He's technically not," Dean answered, coming around the table to sit in the chair next to his sister. He turned it around and straddled it and Anna turned hers so she was in a matching position. Dean couldn't keep the smile off his face at the way she'd mimicked him. She'd stopped copying him outright when she was about six, but he still thought it was pretty adorable now. "He knew our dad since Sam and I were little kids. We used to call him Uncle Bobby too. We just grew out of it."

"How come I still call him that?"

"'Cause you're young enough to get away with it."

Anna just stared at him for a minute before her eyes flicked over to the lineup of phones along a wall behind Dean. "What are those?"

"The phones?" Dean clarified, eyebrows raised. When Anna nodded, he did the same. "Sometimes when we're hunting, we have to pretend to be people we aren't-- like FBI agents and police officers-- because otherwise people won't tell us the stuff we need to know to catch the bad guys."

"Oh," Anna said simply. "So you get to pretend you're spies and stuff?" she pressed, a smile creeping onto her face. Dean smirked and nodded. "That's so cool."

"Speaking of..." Dean folded his arms over the back of the chair he was sitting in and leaned forward slightly. Anna tilted her head in question. "Why doesn't it freak you out that your family hunts monsters?"

Anna paused for a second, appearing to mull over the question. "I dunno," she said honestly, flippantly. "I guess it's just not that surprising. Everything's new right now. Besides, I saw that woman disappear into thin air, and that crazy light and sound... I guess it just makes about as much sense as everything else."

"Yeah, I guess this whole thing is pretty weird to you, huh?" Anna bit her lip and started swinging her feet a little where they dangled just above the floor. Dean recognized it for a nervous habit. "What's up?" he asked.

Anna shrugged one shoulder, but then she reached into her pocket. "I was lookin' upstairs," she said, her voice growing soft again the way it had been when she first started talking to them. "I found a picture."

"In your room?" Dean asked, unfazed by the news. It seemed only reasonable that she'd done a little searching when she found a room that could hold some clues about who she was.

Anna nodded. "Can you tell me who it is?" she requested.

"Sure, Rugrat."

Anna pulled the photo out of her pocket and looked at it for a second before passing it to her self-proclaimed older brother. Dean got a wistful look in his eyes, but it went away quickly.

"It's your mother," he said briskly.

Anna frowned. "You mean our mother?"

Dean took a heavy breath. He had been hoping they could avoid this conversation. "Not quite, kiddo."

Her frown only got deeper and Anna shook her head. "I thought ... you were my brothers?"

"We are. John Winchester was our father. My mom died a long time ago, though, fifteen years before you were born. Sam was just a baby."

"Oh," Anna said, her face falling though she tried to keep it from happening so outwardly. "So... I'm only... half your sister?"

"No. No no no. Hey," Dean grabbed both her shoulders. "You're just as much as my sister as Sam is my brother. He'd say the same thing. Our mother has been gone practically our whole lives," Dean admitted, though it was clear that the words hurt him even as he spoke them. "And yours has been gone for just about all of yours. We were all raised by the same father."

"But he's dead now," Anna asked softly, feeling a pain start in her stomach at the thought. "And my mom is too? And yours?" Dean nodded sadly through each of the questions. "So we're... we're orphans?"

"I try not to think the word."

Anna bit her lip and directed her gaze downward. It was so strange, grieving people she'd never known. People whose names she didn't know-- except that Dean had said their father's name was John. "How long ago did... did he die?" she asked of their father. He'd already said that her mother had been dead since she was a small child.

"About four years," Dean answered shortly. "Anna, I know this probably sounds really bad to you. But we've always had each other. It's been like that for a long time. But you're a happy kid. We try to do right by you, and we have a lot of friends who care about us. We've never had to think the word orphan because we've always had family to fall back on. That don't end with the three of us, you understand?"

Anna didn't understand. She didn't think it was possible for her to understand without the memories of the life where that was true. Still, she nodded.

"You got more questions?" Dean asked. Anna shook her head. "Alright, let's go see about helpin' Sammy out."

()()()

Anna was sleeping on the couch when Bobby returned around noon that day with the note and the pocket knife which had been the only two possessions Anna was carrying when she was found that morning. He set the pocket knife on the table Sam and Dean were sitting at, each flipping through the pages of a different dusty book. Then he stepped behind Sam and held the note in front of the boy.

"That's greek, ain't it?" Bobby asked gruffly.

"Yeah," Sam said, eyes narrowing as the gears in his head turned. "Yeah, can I-" he pulled the note out of Bobby's hand and studied it for a minute longer. "It says what is, what was, and what will be."

"The hell does that mean?" Dean asked, adopting a baffled expression. He stood up and went to look over Sam's shoulder. "She was right about the number, too."

"This is makin' less sense the more we find out," Bobby grouched, heading over toward his desk.

"Why would something wipe her memory but take the time to leave her with a note like this?"

"I don't know, but it was trying to lead her here. There's no other reason it would write, Sioux Falls."

"Yeah, but, Dean, this writing in greek, it doesn't tell us anything. And the number? Nine's not exactly a special number. It has no biblical affiliations, no connotation of life, death, or youth. It doesn't make any sense."

"Well, I don't know what to tell you, Sam. This memory wipe thing is a first for me too. Not to mention, if she first remembers waking up yesterday, that leaves us with almost three days of lost time."

"You two, quit yer yappin' and get over here," Bobby called.

Dean glanced over his shoulder to see that Anna was still sleeping before he followed his brother over to Bobby's desk. "What is it, Bobby?"

"I figure if the words are in Greek, Greece is as good a place as any to start." Bobby set three large books in Sam's arms and two more in Dean's. "Greek mythology is filled with crap about time and how it could be controlled. Those words imply past, present, and future."

"You think if we can find those words in one of these books, we can find what did this?" Sam asked, looking thoughtfully at the cover of the top book in his stack.

"That or we find some connection between the number nine and those words."

"Here," Sam said, dropping his three books on top of the two Dean was already holding and ignoring the way Dean staggered a little at the added weight. "I'll search some databases, see if I can come up with a connection while you guys figure out where the phrase comes from."

"Your brother can handle that," Bobby answered, glancing at Dean and then looking back at Sam. "I'm thinkin' of a few creatures I've heard have the power to mess with human memory, or play with time. Let me dive into a coupla lore books I've got. Might cover more ground." He nodded to himself and stepped around Dean to get some books from another room.

Sam nodded thoughtfully and walked away as well to get his laptop and start researching, and Dean stood holding all five heavy books, the weight beginning to make his arms ache. He turned his head to watch them walk away, opening his mouth but not having time to say anything. "Oh. Great," he muttered to the now empty room.

()()()

A gentle hand stroked her cheek as Anna turned tear-filled eyes up to the woman standing over her. "Let me go," Anna begged, struggling with everything she had against the ropes that held her wrists ankles down. "Please, just let me go. You don't have to do what he says. You don't have to do any of it!"

"I'm sorry, child," the woman said, her pale skin seeming to glow as she continued to stroke the girl's face. "This is not a choice I would normally make. But the world is not the way it used to be. It's become a wasteland."

"What are you talking about?" Anna asked, trying her best not to become hysteric. There were tears on her face which the woman gently wiped away.

"Imagine a world where humans feel so prideful as to take control of those who give them all that they are," the woman said, her face twisting angrily. Her tone was disgusted as she continued, "Imagine a man so arrogant as to put a collar around my neck."

Anna stared at the woman with wide eyes. "I don't know what you're trying to say," she said urgently, trying to think of any way out of this. "But whoever's doing this, I can help you. Just let me go, please."

"I see you, Anna Winchester. I see everything that you are and everything that you have been. More importantly, I see everything that you will be."

"What?"

"You are a powerful girl. You will survive this just as you survived armageddon. Just as you will survive the loss of your first love and the pain of the ultimate betrayal." She slipped a piece of paper inside Anna's sweater pocket and leaned forward. "You will survive," she repeated fiercely. "And when you do, you will save us both."

"I don't know how," Anna said. "Just tell me what to do. I'll do it now."

"I would not do this to you," the woman said emphatically, with certainty, "if I could decide."

"Then don't!"

"You misunderstand. I choose the moment, but I do not choose the crime."

"What does that mean?!"

"I'm sorry, child. I have seen this moment. It is unpleasant for you."

"Please. No, please!"

The woman's hand cupped one side of Anna's face, and her other hand, which Anna noticed was shackled by some sort of purple glow, moved to the other side. Her head caught there, Anna struggled against her bonds again, screaming in terror of whatever was about to happen. She would survive, the woman had said, but at what cost? She was eleven years old. Was her life about to change permanently?

"Shh."

A warmth started in Anna's cheeks, then it spread inside her skull, growing hotter, and a light grew intensely bright around them. The light and the sensation became one, a fire burning only for her, only to destroy her from within. Her mind was ripped apart, shredded, and slowly became ash as she screamed one last plea for help in the form of a name that meant nothing to her by the time she finished speaking it.

()()()

Gasping awake, Anna gripped the blanket covering her and sat straight up. She looked around. She was in the house the sheriff had taken her to, and she was on the couch in the study. She couldn't remember what had startled her to this point. She thought maybe a loud noise had woken her, but as she looked around, she saw that the room was empty, and she could hear muffled voices speaking from the hallway. Outside of the house, the world was growing dark. Anna carefully climbed off of the couch and moved to stand by the windows. She pulled a curtain back and gazed up at the night sky, filled with stars and a wispy crescent moon that was almost new.

There was something dangerous inside of her head, something that had woken her and made her heart pound with anxiety. She was supposed to be doing something, helping someone. But she couldn't remember what.

"I thought I heard you get up."

Anna turned around to see Sam standing in the doorway to the room. "Yeah, I- I think I had a dream, but I don't remember it." She was surprised by her own honesty.

"Well, that's probably normal for this type of thing," Sam said, entering the room and coming over to her side. "Your subconscious might have access to your memories in a way that your waking mind doesn't."

"Sure," Anna agreed easily, completely clueless as to what he meant by that. "I'm supposed to be somewhere else," she added, her frustration audible. "I'm supposed to help someone."

"The only place you need to be," Sam said seriously, leaning down so he could look her in the eye. "Is here with us. The only person we need to help is you. Your mind is probably pretty overwhelmed right now. If you had a nightmare, it's because your mind is coping the only way it knows how."

"But what if I'm supposed to remember something," Anna pushed, growing more passionate in her argument as she spoke. "What if there's something my sub-conch-nes-- my whatever is trying to tell me and I'm not listening?"

Sam took her hands in his. "You don't need to worry about it," he assured her. His confidence was so complete that it was almost contagious. Almost. "Whatever's happening, we're gonna figure it out. And once we get your memory sorted, whatever you're trying to remember will be right out in the open."

Anna wrinkled her nose in frustration. "But I just feel like right now I'm missing something. Something important."

"I know it's hard," Sam said. "You don't know us. You don't remember who we are, who you are, or what we do. But for now, Anna, you're gonna have to trust us. We know what we're doing."

Anna sighed heavily. "Okay," she said, and she let her mind relax as she said it again. "Okay."

"Come on, then. Bobby made dinner. I know how it sounds, but he's actually a good cook." Anna laughed and followed her brother into the kitchen. It was getting a little easier to trust these people with every minute she spent around them.

()()()

They ate at the kitchen table, but Bobby and the boys still had those thick books filled with lore and spellwork resting in front of them. Anna slowly worked her way through the bowl of chili in front of her. Sam had been right that Bobby was a surprisingly good cook, but it felt weird being the only person at the table eating without working.

"Can I help?" she asked after a few minutes, leaning over Dean's arm to see the page he was staring at. It was written almost completely in the same language as the note she'd been holding earlier.

"Sorry, kiddo. You wouldn't know what to look for," he said and gestured to her food with his thumb. "You should eat and get some more sleep. It's been a long day-- hell, a long few days."

Anna brought one foot up to the edge of her chair and slowly continued eating, one knee against her chest. She saw from the corner of her eye that Sam looked over at her and opened his mouth as if to scold her posture, but he stopped himself and looked back at his book. Anna dropped her foot, but she wondered if she was still acting like her old self and just didn't remember. It stood to reason that she would have the same personality traits, at least for the most part.

She was getting a headache from all the thinking. Come to think of it, she'd had a headache building since she woke up on the couch with that dreadful feeling in her gut. She let her spoon rest in her bowl and leaned the other way, trying to see the page of the book Sam was reading. "What are you doing?" she asked in the spirit of genuine curiosity.

Sam looked up at her without moving his head then looked back down at the book. He sighed and shifted in his seat. "Just research," he said. "Dean's right. You should eat and get some more sleep."

Anna narrowed her eyes at him as if trying to figure something out. Instead of asking more questions, though, she just sat back in her chair and started stirring her food around thoughtfully. It was strange feeling this much curiosity about their research, feeling this free to just lean over and ask questions and yet to know absolutely nothing of these people beyond their names and relation to her.

"Well, here's somethin'." Everybody turned to look at Bobby when he spoke. He tapped a finger against the page of the book he was reading. "There's a creature called a Glawackus."

"Bless you."

Bobby shot Dean a look displaying just how unimpressed he was then looked back down at the description of the Glawackus. "It's been called the Northern Devil Cat because it looks like a wild cat and screeches like a hyena. According to this, there've been reports that lookin' it in the eyes can wipe a victim's memory."

"Okay," Sam said. "But that's a predatory thing, right? It's a way to incapacitate a victim so it can feed?"

"Looks like," Bobby answered distractedly.

"Yeah and there's a few other problems with that, Bobby," Dean cut in. "Not only would this thing have killed its prey, but I don't see it handing the kid a note with instructions on where to go to find us."

"Well, back to square one, then. But I'll tell you, boy, that bit don't add up no matter which way you look at it."

Dean bobbed his eyebrows in agreement and Sam looked thoughtful. "You're right. It's weird."

"We've established that," Dean said sarcastically.

"No, really, why would something wipe her memory and then help her get it back unless-"

"Unless it didn't want to wipe her memory in the first place."

"Could be some kind of game," Sam spitballed.

"Or it could be some kind of black magic. We've seen it before," Dean said, thinking back to several of their previous cases. "People binding monsters to do their dirty work. Granted, the things usually don't have the power to send messages to their victims if they aren't in control of themselves."

"Right," Sam agreed, working his jaw as he thought things over. "Could be somebody who wasn't directly involved gave her the note. Somebody who could see everything that was happening but..."

"But was helpless to stop it..." Dean finished for his brother. He paused. "It's weird."

"Yeah, it doesn't add up," Sam agreed. "But that could be the key to solving this."

"You find any sign of those symbols yet?" Dean asked his brother and rubbed his own eyes tiredly.

"No. You?"

"Not yet." He glanced purposefully over at Anna who was watching the three of them with interest and maybe a little fear. "But we will," he said with confidence. He gave his sister a wink and watched a small smile break out on her face. "You almost done, Munchkin?"

Anna nodded and tilted her empty bowl for him to see.

Dean pushed his chair back from the table and stood. "Alright, come on. I'll get your duffel from the trunk. All your favorite pajamas are in there. I mean, I guess it doesn't matter that much since you don't remember which ones you like, but..." He paused, seeming to have a brief debate with himself inside his head. "Whatever," he said and shrugged, waving her toward the stairs while he went to go outside. "I'll bring it upstairs. You go brush your teeth and all that jazz."

Anna sighed heavily, but didn't feel comfortable enough around these people to argue with them. It was frustrating, though, being kept out of the loop about things that were so significant to her well-being. She did go back up the stairs though, and she walked down the hallway until she found the room she recognized as 'hers.'

Almost ten minutes later, after Anna had brushed her teeth with a toothbrush she found in a bureau drawer and tried to pull a brush through her curly hair but quickly gave up, Dean walked in with a duffel bag on his shoulder. "Here ya go, kiddo," he announced his presence and set the bag next to the bureau. Unzipping it without a thought, Dean pulled out a pair of blue plaid pajamas.

When he held them out to her, Anna hesitated, looking between the pajamas and her brother a couple times before finally reaching out to take them.

"Something wrong?" Dean asked, frowning at her timidness. Anna shook her head and looked down at the pajamas in her hands. Dean could see through that act easily enough, but he didn't push her. As far as Anna could remember, she'd known him for all of twelve hours, if that. "Alright, get changed and get to bed, then. I'll be back in a few minutes."

Anna watched him go and waited until he'd closed the door behind him before quickly changing into the pajamas. Then she used those few minutes he'd promised to start sweeping the room visually again. She'd only spent a couple minutes earlier searching the desk and she'd found that photograph that won her some more information about herself. She felt like she was scraping at something. At someone. Her former self. The girl she was supposed to be, and the girl who knew what her dream had been communicating.

Inside the bottom drawer of the bureau, she dug her hands in beneath the flannel shirts. Her fingers found the edge of something leather, and with narrowed eyes, she pulled it out. To her surprise, something clattered out onto the wooden floor as she lifted it from the drawer. To her much greater surprise, she saw a metal blade glinting in the warm artificial light of the room. She'd discovered a knife in her bureau.

She supposed her instinct should have been to shy away, but instead she reached forward to pick the knife up carefully by the handle. She stared at it in a combination of confusion and fear. She couldn't think of a single reason she would have this. In her awe, she slowly began to run one finger along the smooth metal. What were the odds that the blade was even sharp? Was this just something she had in case of emergency, that stayed hidden at the bottom of a drawer and rarely saw the light of day? God, but she hoped so.

A knock on the door startled her, and Anna shoved the knife toward her other hand as a means of hiding it. Instead, she sliced her hand open. The pain was immediate and left her gasping, eyes filling with tears. When she turned her gaze downward in a flurry of panic, knowing that Dean was just outside the door, she went light headed at the sight of the blood already pooling in her hand.

She didn't hear the door opening when Dean walked in, but she did hear him when he asked, "Rugrat, what're you doin'?"

"Nothing!" Anna answered too loudly and quickly for it to be anything but a lie.

She was unsurprised when Dean was immediately knelt beside her, looking for whatever had her attention. "The hell'd you do to yourself?" he demanded when he caught sight of her bloody left hand.

"Nothing," Anna stressed again, fighting a little when he took her wrist in his hand and tried to inspect the cut.

"Anna."

She stilled at the tone of his voice. He sounded so angry. This wasn't the same Dean who'd given her reassuring smiles and winks earlier just to put her at ease. This wasn't the same Dean who'd reassured her that they were one hundred percent family despite that they didn't have the same mother. This was a very angry version of Dean, and she didn't like that his anger was directed at her.

She'd been messing with a knife, however unintentionally. She'd been searching through the room to find more clues as to who she was rather than getting into bed like he'd told her to. He wasn't her father, but Anna could see that he was preparing to scold her. She couldn't help but wonder how strict they were with her and if she was going to face consequences for touching a knife at all, or for not going to bed like he'd told her to. They hadn't seemed like the strict type. And they were only her brothers.

But the look in Dean's eye said something different, and Anna shrunk in on herself as he pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and immediately pressed it against her hand. It absorbed a lot of the blood right away, and then he folded it over, set it against the cut again, and pressed down hard.

Anna whimpered and tried to pull her hand away, but his grip on her wrist was unrelenting. "Take it easy," his voice rumbled gently even as he continued to glare at the wound. "You cut yourself pretty deep here. The first aid kit is downstairs." He stood up and his touch was gentle as he pulled her upright as well. "Hold that," he instructed, guiding her free hand-- the one with the shallow scratch on it-- to hold the handkerchief on her bleeding one. "Come on." He nudged her toward the door and they walked downstairs.

Anna couldn't seem to peel her eyes away from the bloody cloth she was holding in place. It was strange, the sight of so much thick red, all of it meant to be inside of her. "I'm sorry," she said pitifully as Dean sat her down in Bobby's study. "Dean, I'm sorry."

Dean hushed her, knelt on the floor in front of her, and opened the first aid kit on the couch beside her. "We take care of this first," he said simply, some of his anger appearing to have faded for the time being.

That, at least, was a relief to Anna, and some of the tension left her. It didn't take him long to take care of the bleeding, but then he insisted on using something he called butterfly bandages which Anna thought sounded pretty cool, but really were annoying to sit through. Her palm steadily throbbed through all the ministrations, and when Dean had finally finished with her hand, she was offered Tylenol to cope with it.

It was after all that when Dean guided back upstairs and into bed that she realized she wasn't out of the woods. He went to get the knife, brought into the bathroom, cleaned, and sheathed it. Then he brought it back into the bedroom and set it on the desk before walking over to the bed where Anna lay, far from sleep.

"I hope you ain't counting on extenuating circumstances to get you of a lengthy lecture this time, kid."

"Exta-what?"

Dean blinked once and sighed heavily through his nose. "Nevermind," he said about the vocabulary word. "Look, Anna, you know a hundred times better than to play with knives. You you does anyway, and I'm pretty sure that's not the kind of thing that was wiped from your memory."

Anna frowned, looking totally lost. "What's not?"

"Knives are dangerous. Universal law."

"I know that," Anna said indignantly. "I'm not stupid just because I don't remember."

Dean gave her a dangerous glare that made Anna instantly recoil. "Considering the life we live, Anna, we have to be able to trust you around weapons. And that's not ideal, okay? But it's our lives. That's something you're gonna have to learn sooner than later."

"I didn't mean to mess with it," Anna explained, looking her brother in the eyes so he'd know she wasn't lying. "I just found it and I realized what it was and then you knocked on the door and I got scared. But when I flinched, I got cut."

"So it was an accident," Dean allowed. "Hey, I get that. But that doesn't mean you shouldn't have been more careful. You don't have the years of weapons training still tucked away in that noggin of yours, kiddo, or this conversation would be a lot less pleasant for you. But I am gonna tell you this. When you're holding a knife or a gun or anything that has the potential to hurt you or anyone else, you have to be totally focused. You have to be as careful as you can possibly be. Your first move when you aren't intending to use that knife or gun is to put it away. You turn the safety on or you put the knife in its sheath and then you put it back where you found it."

Anna squirmed a little listening to his stern lecture. She wondered if he realized how strange this was for her. She was being chastised by a man she didn't even know for breaking rules she'd never learned. She wondered if the girl she was supposed to be got yelled at like this or if she was smart and good enough to avoid it. Dean had said that if she were her other self then he would've been a lot harsher. Did that mean she often got in trouble, or that she rarely did? It was difficult and stressful trying to piece together who she was with only these snippets to go on.

"You got all that?" Dean asked finally.

Anna nodded. "I got it," she said sincerely. Her hand was throbbing more dully now, but it still hurt. She felt tired again, and all she really wanted was to drop off to sleep. In that beautiful land of unconsciousness, it didn't matter whether she was Anna Winchester or just a lost little girl trying to find the Anna Winchester in her. She could just rest.

"Okay. Get some sleep. Tomorrow we'll figure out what's going on."

()()()

"I can't tell what they're doing," a voice echoed from somewhere around her. But Anna sat in darkness, nothing visible. She could feel pain in her stomach that spoke of at least a day without food and her head ached something terrible. But she couldn't see a thing, and she couldn't feel anything around her except a cold surface beneath her. "But whatever it is, it's evil. Pure evil."

Time was nonlinear here, and it passed in cycles of screams and pain. There would be bright lights and whistling sounds bursting in the outline of the door to the room sometimes, and somebody would scream the word No. Then it would go quiet. There would be whispering voices. Somebody else would be taken away, dragged into the too-bright light of the room next door. Then there was the pain in her stomach that ratcheted up. They were never offered food, just water once a day. It seemed to go on forever, though.

Sometimes, somebody new would be thrown in.

"How old are you?" a scared-looking woman asked, her voice steadier than any of the others Anna had heard.

Anna looked over and, without hesitating, said, "Eleven. But I'm almost twelve."

The woman might have smiled but it was difficult to tell in the almost complete darkness of their prison. "That makes you the youngest then," she said, like she was putting that piece into a puzzle. Anna stared at her until the woman spoke again. "My name is Katrina," she said gently. "I've been here for a long time. I think it's been a few days, actually." She swallowed and seemed to be pushing some fear away. "I don't know if you noticed, but... Don't be scared, Honey, but we're the only two left."

It somehow came as a shock. It was a rip through the relative calm that had settled around them against all the odds, through days of screaming and growing increasingly hungry and exhausted. There was a chill that had settled in Anna's bones. Time was nonlinear, but she could remember that there had been other people. Camille had been twenty. Alyssa had been fifteen. They had both been dragged into the light, been victims of the terrible whistling and the burning light.

"Katrina," Anna said quietly, weakly. "My family is coming. They can save us." She'd slowly started losing hope in this over the past few days. But there was a seed of determination firmly planted in her stomach telling her that these words were a steadfast truth. Time couldn't break that truth down, especially in a place where time didn't pass in minutes and hours but in hoarse whispers and growling stomachs.

In the darkness, the silhouette of Katrina's face was colored with sympathy, as if she thought Anna was a sweet little kid with hero worship for a family that couldn't possibly stop whatever was going on here. Maybe Anna was a sweet little kid with hero worship for her family. But Sam and Dean wouldn't be helpless to stop this, whatever it was. They would be piecing together clues just like Anna was trying so hard to do. But her mind wasn't working. Maybe it was the hunger, maybe the exhaustion, or maybe the impending threat of death.

The doors opened and Katrina pushed Anna farther into the darkness, offering herself toward the light of the room where people went to die. She didn't scream like the others had, at least not right away.

But some time later, how much there was no way to be sure, Anna heard an echo, loud and clear, of the kind voice screaming for fear of death or torture. "Stop!" It was long, it dragged on, and then there were just screams that sounded agonized.

Anna clamped two hands over her ears and whispered a mantra of hope and terror. "Sam and Dean are coming. Sam and Dean are coming. Sam and Dean are coming."

As if time had split somehow and jumped forward, the pain in Anna's stomach increased ten fold, and she knew it was again time for a prisoner to be selected for whatever hell reigned on the other side of that door. As soon as the rectangle of light began to blind her, Anna knew her brothers would be too late.

()()()

She woke in a cold sweat, blankets tangled around her legs. She couldn't remember what she'd dreamt about, but it'd been a doozy. Looking around, Anna finally caught sight of the numbers on the alarm clock that read 7:14 AM. She reached down toward her feet and worked the blankets from around her legs while struggling to process the fear that was still thundering through her chest. She quickly recalled the cut on her palm when it brushed against the sheets and began to burn.

Then she remembered that there were three people downstairs waiting for her. Dean was the one who'd brought her upstairs last night, who'd bandaged her cut and yelled at her like she was his kid. Well, she supposed he hadn't yelled but... Then there was Sam. He was excessively tall, even taller than Dean, and he was the one who had been really gentle with her from the moment they met. Plus he had puppy dog eyes. And Bobby was gruff and tough, smelled like whiskey, and always wore a ratty ball cap on his head.

Anna closed her eyes tightly at the memory of all these people who were meant to be her family. It was frightening, the thought of going downstairs and facing them, because it meant facing her situation again. She knew a few things now. She knew her name, her family's names, and she had a basic idea that they were used to this kind of fiasco and could therefore get her out of it. But she was still scared.

She decided to brave it, and went downstairs without changing out of her pajamas. It was chilly in the house and she wondered if Uncle Bobby liked it cold. These were the kinds of things she didn't know about these people, the kinds of things that would have made them feel a little more like her family and not just the people who supposedly took care of her.

"Mornin'," Bobby greeted as soon as she entered the kitchen. He was cooking something in a frying pan. By the smell, Anna recognized it to be eggs. "Hope you're hungry. Got a pan full of eggs here with your name on 'em."

Anna didn't say anything, but she did sit at the table and swing her bare feet back and forth, watching the man at the stove as he finished cooking her breakfast. When he came over and served her some cheesy scrambled eggs on a plate, Anna met his eyes with a silent question.

"Boys ain't here. They went into town, see about finding out where those two cops picked you up," Bobby told her.

Anna's lip curled up and her nose crinkled as she stared in confusion at Bobby. "Why do they wanna know that?"

"Find that building you were talkin' about, look for evidence of whatever took ya and wiped your memory."

"Oh," Anna said, looking down at her plate. "Does that mean we're going back there?"

"Don't know if they'll take you with or not," Bobby answered simply. "I got a business to run here, though. So I ain't leavin'. I'll probably hit the books again, see if there's somethin' we missed yesterday."

"Do you think if I go back, that thing will still be there? Whatever made the whistling sound and the light?"

Bobby shrugged. "If it is, might make our job a lot easier. Can take it out right there, no questions asked."

"Would that fix me?"

Bobby sent her a strange look for the way she'd phrased. "If something took your memories, odds are killin' it would restore 'em," he confirmed. "Course, there is the possibility that whatever took you fed on your memories, in which case, gettin' 'em back would be a helluva lot more complicated. Near impossible, actually." Anna stared at him with wide eyes, and Bobby seemed to realize his mistake. "The odds of that are low," he amended quickly.

Anna turned her eyes down to her breakfast. A sweep of hunger through her stomach made her vision white out for a second, and a voice suddenly echoed in her mind saying, That makes you the youngest then. It was over in a second, but it left Anna shaken. She stood abruptly, drawing Bobby's attention as he cracked more eggs into the frying pan on the stove. Immediately he turned off the burner and turned to her.

"What's the matter?" he asked gruffly.

Anna swallowed convulsively. "Nothing," she said, sitting back down and going quiet. "I... I was hungry."

"Well, eat, kid," Bobby said in that same exasperated voice he used on the boys quite often.

"No, not now... before," Anna explained weakly. "I was hungry."

"Pardon?"

Anna looked up with a flare of frustration. "In the dark, I was hungry and they didn't give us food."

"You're rememberin' something?"

Anna cowered again when he walked over to her hurriedly. "I just did," she said softly. "Just a feeling though, and a voice."

"And?" Anna looked at him like she wasn't sure what he wanted. "And what was the feeling? What did the voice say?"

"It was hunger. And they just said, That makes you the youngest then. What does that mean?" she asked.

Bobby was looking at her like she'd revealed something terrible, but she didn't understand until he answered her. "It means there were others," he said grimly.

()()()

"I don't like this," Anna, in the backseat of the car she didn't remember but thought she should, finally voiced what she'd been thinking for the past fifteen minutes since they left Bobby Singer's house.

"You have nothing to worry about, kiddo. We'll keep you safe."

Anna accepted the response without any argument, but she didn't feel better. Was she supposed to? Was that promise supposed to mean more than it did? Would Anna Winchester feel better hearing those words? She must, Anna reasoned, or Dean never would have said them.

Then the building came into view, a slight distance from the road, shielded by some trees. Anna's eyes widened at the sight of it and a burning started in her mind. Her vision was white for a minute, then there was a face, blurry yet somehow distinct.

A hand chained by a purple glow, and a voice making promises, asking for help. "I'm sorry, child," a woman said, her pale skin seeming to glow as she stroked Anna's face. "This is not a choice I would normally make. But the world is not the way it used to be. It's become a wasteland."

"What are you talking about?" Anna asked, trying her best not to become hysteric. There were tears on her face which the woman gently wiped away.

"Imagine a world where humans feel so prideful as to take control of those who give them all that they are," the woman said, her face twisting angrily. Her tone was disgusted as she continued, "Imagine a man so arrogant as to put a collar around my neck."

The talking turned to a buzz as time blurred away from her and Anna came back to herself. She was surprised to be met with two concerned faces knelt outside of the car and in front of her, the back door open.

Anna blinked and felt tears on her face. Her head hurt awfully bad and she felt like it was hard to breathe.

"You back with us?" Sam asked gently, reaching up one hand to swipe tears off his sister's face.

Anna nodded, pulling herself together as she took a deep breath in and let it go. "I remember something," she said. "Not who I am but... but what happened. A little. The woman I saw up there, she did this. But she didn't want to."

"What are you talkin' about?" Dean demanded, eyes wide and focused at the possibility of a real lead. If anything was likely to lead them to whatever they were up against, it was Anna remembering what had happened.

"I saw the woman. She was pale and she kinda glowed. She had a chain on her wrist, but it wasn't metal. It was like this light."

"Like a supernatural shackle," Sam understood. "What happened?"

"She said the world is different than it used to be. She said she didn't want to hurt me but she didn't have a choice. She- she said Imagine a world where humans are prideful enough to take control of those who gave them everything they are. Something like that. And she said an arrogant man had chained her somehow."

"Oh god," Sam said and turned to look at Dean at the same time Dean turned to him. "You know what that sounds like, right?"

Dean nodded seriously. "A god."

"Or goddess, in this case," Sam corrected absentmindedly. "We need to get Anna back to Bobby's and figure out who this goddess is, how she has the power to bend time, and how somebody might be controlling her. If she slipped Anna that note, she knows who we are and that we can help her. If we get her outta there, maybe she'll restore Anna's memories and help the others that were trapped there."

"We can't go yet," Anna argued vehemently. "What if there are more people in there? People that he's making her hurt?"

Sam and Dean both seemed to wrestle with that for a minute, but they came to a different conclusion from Anna's. "We can't help them yet. The best way to fix this is to set her free. She'll reverse all the damage once we do that," Dean said with confidence that Anna didn't think was warranted. Nevermind that they were talking about rescuing a goddess which was just insane.

"But what if they get hurt before we get back?" she pushed.

Dean was already moving around to the other side of the car. Sam grabbed her hand gently, mindful of the cut on her palm that was still stinging, held shut by the bandages with a deceptively adorable name. "Everyone inside of there is going to be okay," he promised.

Maybe it shouldn't have been comforting. Dean's promise hadn't been a minute ago. But it was comforting. And suddenly Dean's earlier one was too, because she could remember something else about being in that warehouse, strapped down with a freaking goddess leaning over her and warning her that she was about to be harmed. She could remember the mantra in her head. The words Sam and Dean are coming. The hope in her heart and her head whispering that they would always come for her, would always save her. It was the difference that Anna thought most prominent between this version of herself and the one she was supposed to be. It was the difference between a little girl whose name was apparently Anna and Anna Winchester.

"Thank you," she whispered to Sam as if it were some kind of secret.

Sam smiled kindly at her and reached in to pat her hair once, his hand lingering for just a moment affectionately. Then he shut the back door and climbed into the passenger seat.

()()()

"Say it again?" Anna requested worriedly.

"Mnemosyne. She's the greek goddess of memory. Associated with the number nine, and was said to have knowledge of all that was, is, and shall be."

"So that's the words and the number," Dean said to Anna. They'd been over this, but she seemed to be having a hard time wrapping her head around it. "We shoulda seen it, Bobby."

"Don't beat yourself up, kid. We've got it now, and it ain't hardly been twenty four hours."

Anna looked between the two of them, confused at their exchange. Bobby acted like Dean's father or something. And Dean acted guilty over helping her later than he wanted? They were making progress for Pete's sake, that should be something to celebrate.

"Okay, well, we know who she is. Let's go get her," Anna suggested, in a hurry to get this over with and find herself again. She snatched her jacket off the armrest of the couch where she'd thrown it when they got back half an hour ago, and she headed for the door, fully expecting everyone to follow behind her.

"Woah, hold on there, Little Joe."

Anna shot him a dirty look for calling her after the youngest and least mature Cartwright. But she did stop moving as he grabbed her shoulder and pulled her back into the room.

"We're waiting for Sam to get back with the stuff we need."

"But you said we just have to destroy the... what's it called?"

"The altar. But that's if he has one. There are a couple different ways he could be binding her."

Anna grit her teeth and glared at her older brother. "Stop making it sound easy then."

"I never said it was easy," Dean snapped back, his own temper starting to flare. "Look, you need to take a break. Go sit down and watch TV or something until Sam gets back."

"What?! No way. I wanna help. It's my head that's all messed up so-"

"Hey," Dean cut her off. "Don't talk like that. You're head ain't messed up. You got brainwashed. There's a difference."

Anna pouted at him and very nearly stomped her foot in frustration. Then she thought how childish that would be and changed her mind. "I'm sick of this," Anna snapped. "I wanna know who I am. I wanna get this over with, and you just want to sit here and wait. I'm done with it! I don't even know you so quit bossing me around!" With that, she turned on her heel and stormed toward the door, determined that she could find a way out of this without their help.

She didn't get far, though, and she wasn't sure, in hindsight, why she thought she would. "Where the hell do you think you're going?" Dean demanded as he caught up to her. He grabbed her by the arm and pulled her back into the study before she even made it into the front room where the door was. Anna didn't answer his question, and he fixed her with a stern look. "Anna, you're stressed and you're tired, and that's the only reason I'm not tearing into you for that. But I'm telling you right now, you never leave this place alone, and certainly not to go lookin' for trouble. Now go sit and cool off. I'm not tellin' you again."

Anna met Dean's serious gaze for a minute before she finally realized there was no way out of this. But she wasn't happy about it as she went to the couch and plopped down. This whole situation was so infuriating.

Being around these people, listening to everything they said, getting lectured by them-- especially Dean-- and all the while not knowing who they really were, what they were supposed to mean to her. Her mind felt so blank sometimes it was almost painful. Most people could relate just about anything they saw to an anecdote from their past. But when there were no memories of living through any experiences, that possibility completely disappeared.

She pulled her knees into her chest and listened as her brother and not-uncle spoke in hushed voices. Probably discussing her. She growled into her knees, needing some sort of outlet to get out her frustration. After a couple minutes of growing anger, she stood up and headed for the stairs.

"Hey," Dean snapped as soon as she started moving. "What're you doing?"

"I'm just going upstairs," she huffed.

"Hey, can the attitude. Why are you going upstairs?"

Anna turned around at the bottom of the staircase, put both hands on her hips, and glared openly at him. "It's none of your business," she said bitingly.

Dean rolled his eyes skyward at all the attitude and gave up. He'd raised this kid since birth, but the usual rules didn't apply right now considering that she didn't remember any of that. Normally, all it would take to get her in line when she decided to pull an attitude was one look or warning from either of her brothers. She was good like that.

Anna went up the stairs with more force than necessary. Once she was behind the door of her room, she headed toward the bureau and dug out the knife she'd found the previous night, sheath and all. She pulled it out to make sure it was clean. Her wounded hand throbbed with phantom pain at the memory of the knife first slicing into it. Really, it hardly hurt anymore at this point.

Remembering what Dean had said last night, she put the knife back in its sheath as soon as she saw that it was clean. There was a little clip on the sheath where it could be hooked onto a belt or a boot. Anna didn't have either, so she searched inside the duffel bag until she found the pair of boots she'd suspected she would have. Boots seemed like the kind of thing she would own considering her family apparently hunted monsters for a living.

The knife wasn't very big and fit easily, sheath and all, on the inside of her boot. She went back downstairs wearing the boots and picked up the jacket she'd dropped on the couch when Dean crushed any ideas that they would head out after their foes.

"We're not leaving yet," Dean said, watching her out of the corner of his eye.

"I know," Anna replied defensively.

"Well, where you goin' then?"

Anna shrugged and walked over to stand by Dean. "Nowhere," she answered, looking over his shoulder at the laptop screen. "What're you doin'?"

"Well, I'll tell you if you tell me what you were doin' a minute ago," Dean bargained.

Anna figured that was pretty fair. "I wanted to get the knife. In case I need it in the fight."

"You got the what?" Bobby asked seriously from across the table.

Dean swiveled in his chair, face hardening as soon as the words left her mouth. "Give it to me," he commanded, tone leaving no room for argument.

Anna frowned and stepped back. "But I might need it," she said.

"You won't need it because you're not gonna be anywhere near the action, if there even is any. Give it to me. I won't ask again."

Mostly out of fear of Dean's sudden angry demeanour, Anna reached into her boot and pulled the knife out, immediately handing it over. As soon as Dean had it, he set it in the middle of the table he was sitting at and stood up.

"Come with me," he said shortly, catching Bobby's eye briefly as they left the room.

"What did I do?" Anna asked worriedly as she was pulled along behind her brother into the backyard. She hadn't seen this side of the house before but it was nice. Or it might've been under other circumstances. As it was, she didn't have time to enjoy the sight of green grass, a picnic table, and a small, rickety swing set. She was too nervous. "What?" she demanded as Dean scooped her off the ground and set her on the picnic table. He put his hands on the table on either side of her and leaned down in her face.

"What did we talk about last night?" he asked rhetorically and gravely.

Anna frowned. They hadn't talked about what he seemed to think they'd talked about last night. "But... you didn't say I couldn't touch it. You just said I should be careful."

Dean poked her in the stomach with one finger, "Fine. I didn't say it last night but I'm saying it now. You don't touch any of that crap unless we give you the okay. Got that? Maybe before you knew your way around all this stuff. But even then, you were allotted specific circumstances where you could use them because you were still training. So you leave all of this alone until you know how to use it again. With any luck, that'll be tonight."

Anna listened closely through his explanations and when he finished, she crossed her arms over her chest. "You know, you talk about me like a little kid."

Dean snorted. "News flash, Anna. You are a little kid. And kids have rules. You have rules."

"I thought you were my brother," Anna said, sounding positively wounded.

Dean reared back a little in confusion. "What-? I am."

"Then why do you act like your my dad or something?"

Dean looked at her intently for a minute, then backed off a little. This wasn't a conversation he wanted to have. He needed to know Anna would be safe and not touch the weapons. Other than that, the rules thing could be pretty much shoved aside for the time being.

They didn't need to do any adjusting here because in a few hours, once Sam got back and they went to set Mnemosyne free from whatever arrogant dickhead was binding her, then they would have their little sister back. Anna would be Anna again. She would beg to stay up late instead of blindly listening when they tried to make her go to bed, but she would do what she was told without any argument or attitude in just about every other circumstance. She would give attack hugs anytime one of them left or returned home, and she wouldn't be so damn quiet all the time unless she was upset or hurt. Most importantly, she would know what their life was, and she would be happy and safe.

"Dean!"

"Sam's back?" Anna asked quietly.

"Yeah," Dean said simply and helped her off the table. She made sure to ditch the contact as soon as her feet were on the ground.

That was something else he missed. This lost version of his sister was so timid, especially around the three of them. He couldn't say he didn't understand why. It was like three men and a baby, after all. And all three of them were weathered hunters who were probably pretty intimidating to a little girl who wasn't half their size and didn't fully understand that hurting her was the last thing any one of them would even think of doing. She still backed off and shrunk in on herself if they moved too suddenly or spoke too loudly. It was frustrating and saddening, and Dean and Sam had been trying their best ever since they arrived at Bobby's to make it clear to their little sister that they would never pose a threat to her.

Inside, Sam was showing Bobby the contents of a paper bag. He pulled out two flasks, then turned at the sound of Dean and Anna coming in. "Hey. Got the Water of Lethe and Water of Mneme."

"Awesome. That mean we're good to go?"

"I don't know," Sam said hesitantly. "Dean I'm not sure this is gonna work. In one myth it was a tribute to Mnemosyne's power. I don't think it's gonna do anything to this guy."

"Well, this is plan B anyway," Dean reminded his brother. "Look, first step is to find and destroy the altar. If there's not an altar, that's where this crap comes in."

Sam still looked unhappy and a little nervous over the idea, but he nodded along. "Alright, sooner we get this done the better. She coming?"

"Yeah," Dean said, looking down at Anna who was staring interestedly at the water in Sam's hands.

"If that's the water of memory, can't I just drink that and get my memories back?" she asked like she was confused as to why it hadn't already been done.

"Sorry, kiddo, but that water's got a handbook," Dean said simply, reaching out to ruffle her hair and stopping himself when she tensed up. "The water only works as a reversal to the Water of Lethe which is Forgetfulness. That's how the legend goes anyway."

"So, why do you need it?"

"Well, in the legend, the person drinks both waters as a ritual, but we think if we drench the guy that's doing this in the Water of Lethe and then in the Water of Mnemosyne, it'll be enough to power up the goddess and free her from his binding."

"I don't get it," Anna said.

"Don't worry about that, kiddo," Dean retorted playfully. "I don't think I do either. Come on," he gave her a nudge toward the door. "Let's get this done."

"You three watch yourselves," Bobby called after them as they headed out.

()()()

"Who binds a goddess anyway?" Anna asked judgmentally as they walked slowly up the path toward the building of her nightmares-- literally. "Isn't that kinda dangerous?"

"Absolutely," Sam said even as he gave her a signal that she should be quieter. "I'll be surprised if she doesn't do at least as bad to him as he made her do to you."

Staring up at the building, Anna wondered if going inside would trigger more memories. But as they entered, nothing changed. A sweep of the first floor revealed nothing. The second wasn't any better. That left either the third floor of the basement. Before they had the chance to go upstairs, Anna grabbed Sam's sleeve. "It was cold," Anna said. "And there was concrete. I think it's downstairs."

"You don't remember seeing an altar, though? It doesn't have to be fancy. A table with a book and a bowl of blood and a couple other things would do it."

Anna shook her head. "I didn't see anything."

"Then the altar could be upstairs," Dean whispered tersely. "Let's move."

They swept the third floor with the same results as before. But as they moved toward the stairs, Anna caught sight of something beside the entrance to the stairwell. It looked like a small table, but she could see some sort of vase on it. She hoped it was what they were looking for. She pointed at it, catching Sam and Dean's attention. But before they could move, the sound of a gun being cocked stopped all of them short.

"Not very often one of my subjects comes back for more," a male voice crooned from behind them. Always behind them. "Lower your weapons and turn around," he challenged, and they did, slowly.

"You're the one doin' this, huh? You sick bastard," Dean spat. "These aren't your subjects. They're human beings. Hell, she's a little kid."

"That's distasteful, Dean, what you just called me. I prefer to go by Zeus."

The three of them raised unimpressed eyebrows in tandem. "Zeus?" Sam repeated sardonically.

"The most powerful, of course." 'Zeus' smiled sickly at them and looked down at Anna, in the middle. "You know, she had it the easiest of any of my subjects."

"You wiped her memory," Dean snapped angrily. "How is that easy? She's eleven years old and she was by herself with no idea who she was or how to survive. You call that easy?"

"I didn't say it was ideal for her. But many of the other subjects were less fortunate. The first one-- I think she said her name was Eleanor-- she got the brunt of my power, or Mnemosyne's anyway."

"And you're doing this for some kind of power trip, Zeus?"

"Oh no," Zeus said. "I'm not looking for anything artificial. I will have power. But I don't yet. See, Mnemosyne knows everything. What has been, is, and will be. That kind of knowledge is power. She can look at a person and know their history and their future. She knows how the other came to be. I could be the single most important man on the planet. But I need her for it."

"So you bound her?" Sam asked incredulously. "Look, pal, you don't know what you're messing with. She's a goddess. That kind of magic doesn't last, and when it falls apart, it's you that ends up paying for it."

"You think so?"

"Absolutely," Dean agreed wholeheartedly. "Now tell me, all this... hurting these people, hurting our sister... what's the point in it? You have the goddess."

"She is going to give me all the knowledge she has," Zeus explained, eyes wide and excited, almost maniacally so. "All the knowledge in the universe. But I know how powerful she is in comparison with human beings. I needed to know how much a person can take. So I've been doing trials. The first subject was blown to smithereens in a matter of seconds when Mnemosyne tried to give her the full index of knowledge. The second was given just all of the memories, but didn't last long either. The third was given the future and also didn't survive. I started to believe there wasn't a way, but the next subject was able to survive the understanding of all things present."

"Four people. Three of them, dead," Dean summarized. "You're totally balanced, huh, Zeus?"

"I didn't take pleasure in it," the man said, as if that made it all better. It made nothing better.  "But it was the only way to understand the realms of her power, which will soon be mine."

"But these trials were to test the human ability to withstand knowledge that was considered unattainable," Sam said. "You took Anna's memories. Why?"

Zeus smiled. "You're intelligent," he said. "Like your sister." He stepped a little closer, still holding the gun on them but seeming slightly distracted by the conversation. "From the moment she arrived, she was causing problems. Mnemosyne was scanning each of my subjects as I collected them. This kid was the only one who knew that things like Mnemosyne and the magic I used to bind her existed. I thought she should be able to withstand what the others couldn't. If she could, that could mean that I would be able to do the same."

"That's some sound logic right there," Dean said sarcastically. "You know, that's like saying people who know eighteen wheelers exist can survive being run over by one, right?"

"It was a slight chance, but I wanted to take it. Mnemosyne, on the other hand, was convinced that Anna should be handled differently. She asked my permission to try something different with Anna. She said she wanted to show me the depth of her power, the other things she could do. She said as easily as she could give, she could also take away. It would be impressive to me, she said. I believed her because she'd been so obedient from the time I bound her. Clearly, it was all a trap, though. She brought hunters down on me, and she will pay for that."

"Those people you hurt," Anna said, standing mouse-like between her brothers. "You can't undo that no matter how much power she gives you. What's the good in ruling the world if you have to become the villain to get there?"

"You don't know about heroes and villains, little girl," Zeus corrected, stepping forward. "You don't remember all the movies you've watched, the comics you've read. You don't remember any of the real life heroes you thought you knew. Mnemosyne tells me you're surrounded by them. Yet you're terrified of them. You don't know heroes from villains so don't tell me what I am."

"Sam," Dean said dryly beside them. Sam immediately understood, whipping his gun up from his side and taking a shot at the vase on the table. It smashed to pieces even as Zeus turned to look at it in horror. Dean took advantage of the moment of distraction to tackle him to the ground, the man's gun going flying. As soon as he was disarmed, Dean shouted, "Sam, destroy the altar."

"No! I'm almost there," 'Zeus' belted.

Dean pointed his own gun in the man's face and sneered. "You should've thought this through, buddy. That goddess can see how everything turns out in the end. If she went through with a plan that stabs you in the back, it's because she knew she'd win when it was all over."

Zeus stared wide-eyed at Dean. He should have seen it. She knew the future. "Please," he said.

But Mnemosyne was already coming into view in the center of the room as the sound of the altar being flung on its side echoed through the empty space. Dean rolled away from the man on the ground, grabbed his sister by the hand and dragged her away from it all and behind the goddess. Mnemosyne's pale skin was accentuated by her emerald green dress as she stepped toward her captor. "You begged to know," she said darkly even as he struggled to his knees and looked, terrified, up at her. "To see what only the gods can see. You put a leash on my neck. Now you will forget. The price of killing to learn everything is to know nothing."

A light emanated from her hand, and it wasn't warm but ice cold, the blue looked piercing even to those outside of it. There were hollers of agony, and then it was over. Zeus' blank eyes looked around for a moment before finally looking up to see Mnemosyne. He didn't say anything, but stared at her in confusion. She touched his face and he disappeared from the room.

"He has forgotten everything he ever learned," Mnemosyne announced as she turned to look at the Winchesters. "All he knows are the instincts he was born with. He can breathe and eat, and he will likely learn to walk. He will be able to survive, but he will not live."

"Thank you," Sam said, unsure what else there was to say.

"No. I thank you," Mnemosyne rectified. "You are mere mortals and you have saved me from an arrogant one of your own kind. You are truly special. Allow me to restore the child's mind," she requested, stepping forward.

Anna had been standing behind both Sam and Dean, but they moved aside when the goddess stepped forward. Anna didn't move, though she was nervous.

"It will not hurt this time," Mnemosyne assured the little girl. "I promise."

Anna felt her face grow warm with the goddess's hand. A light began to spread alongside the warmth and she could feel her mind changing. But Mnemosyne was right. It didn't hurt this time. A lifetime of memories pushed themselves into their proper places until Mnemosyne was finished. Weak in the knees, Anna staggered with exhaustion.

"Dean," she said when she felt his hand on her shoulder. "Sam?" She looked up and they were both right here. Exactly where they belonged. Right beside her, smiling down at her, and prepared to protect her against anything. "Where's-?"

"She's gone," Sam said in awe, looking at the empty space where Mnemosyne had been just a moment ago.

"Anna?" Dean called.

Anna looked up into his green eyes and grinned. "Lighten up," she said through a laugh. "It's me again. Well, I guess it was me before. But it's me me now."

Dean grinned and shook his head in relief, meeting Sam's equally relieved gaze. "We missed you, Rugrat."

"I missed you too," Anna said immediately. "I mean, I think I did. I guess I didn't really but that's just 'cause I didn't remember you. But in spirit, I missed you."

"Quit with the semantics," Sam laughed and tickled her sides.

Anna wrinkled her nose as she giggled and brought both hands to her rib cage to ward off the attack. "Sorry," she said exaggeratedly. "But it's been a long time."

"Five days without you, kiddo. That's your quota for the year, okay?"

Anna grinned brightly. It was as close to an I love you as Dean would get without her saying it first. So she did. "I love you," she said, then hugged him tight around the waist and listened as he murmured the same words into her hair. "And I love you," Anna told Sam, giving him his own tight hug.

()()()

"So, what was it like?" Sam asked that night as they sat on the back lawn at Bobby's looking up at the stars. It was a familiar scene except that they would usually be sitting on the Impala's hood in a clear field in the middle of nowhere.

"Huh?" Anna asked, looking up from the firefly she'd managed to catch between her hands.

"Gonna get all existential on the kid? Really, Sammy?"

"I mean, losing your memory and meeting all of us like it's for the first time. It had to be weird."

"It was scary," Anna admitted, looking back down at the lightning bug and admiring its beautiful light. "I thought I was really alone. But you guys weren't the weird part. It just felt like meeting new people. Except kinda like the old people at that nursing home once 'cause you immediately started hugging me and stuff."

Both the boys laughed at the memory of that case. The elderly folk at the nursing home had been delighted when Dean brought his 'daughter' to work questioning witnesses. Anna had endured an excessive amount of cheek pinching and hugging that day from people she'd never even met.

"But other than that you were just like normal except that I kept thinking about you like I'd think about strangers. I was trying to learn about you from whatever you did. I thought you were so bossy," she said, looking at Dean. Then her eyes went apologetic. "I'm sorry about the knife, Dean. I really didn't know."

"That's okay, Munchkin," Dean said sincerely, feeling a warm affection for this little girl. He'd missed her so much.

"Knife?" Sam questioned, turning a confused look on his brother.

"Doesn't matter," Dean said simply. It was true. There was no danger of anything like it happening again because it'd been so circumstantial.

"Anyway, so we weren't the scary part," Sam repeated Anna's words. "Then what was? Bobby? Jody?"

"No. They were just like nice strangers. Except I remember thinking Uncle Bobby smelled bad."

Again, the boys laughed, and Anna smiled too this time. The look faded, though, as she continued. She looked between her fingers at the firefly in her hand and opened the little makeshift cage to let it fly away, flashing brilliantly in the darkening night sky. She stood up and took the few steps to the picnic table where Sam and Dean were sitting.

She sat down beside Sam and turned her left hand over and pointed at the little white scar at the base of her thumb... the one that had been there since she was six years old and jumped off Bobby's shed, inspired by a story that Dean told her about him and Sam doing the same once. Of course, he had told her the story to deter her from ever doing the same, but she'd only wanted to be like her older brothers, especially since Sam was gone at Stanford and she had no better way to be close to him. She didn't break her arm, but she did slice her hand open on a rock. She'd wailed and bawled the whole time Dean stitched it up. The process had taken so long because of her fussing that she wound up with a neat little scar on her hand, one that would probably never fade away.

"I didn't know where this came from," she said.

"One little scar?" Dean asked, confused.

"Well, no," Anna amended. "But I didn't know myself at all. It was like I wasn't really anybody because I didn't know who I was supposed to be. And everytime I figured out something about myself, I had to try and make myself be like that. Everything was like I was just pretending to be someone when really I was no one."

"You were always you, Anna," Sam said with more certainty than he should have had considering that he'd never had his memory wiped. "You just forgot for a minute."

"But all the stuff that scares me and all the stuff I love was just gone," Anna said. A hint of the fear she was describing appeared in her voice. "And I woke up from a nightmare that I couldn't remember thinking that going to see you was a bad thing. Like it was tiring."

"You forgot what was safe and what wasn't."

"Yeah," Anna said softly, looking down at the scar. "Every time I started getting angry or scared or even happy about something I second-guessed it. I didn't know if I should feel like that because I didn't know if me me would."

It was quiet for a little while, but Anna was comfortable in it like she hadn't been for days.

"I remember the dark now too. Before I woke up all lost."

"You mean those first three days?" Sam asked. "When you first went missing?"

Anna nodded, tracing the butterfly bandages on the palm of her left hand. She hoped Dean would let her get rid of them tomorrow, because she didn't like the way they felt. "You wanna talk about it?" Dean offered. It was a rare offer that Anna thought she was only getting because she'd been gone and then she'd been wrong and now she was neither. Now she was herself and she was back and she was okay.

"I don't think so," she answered honestly. "But I'm glad I'm not there anymore. I'm glad you came for me."

Sam smiled at her and pulled her into his side where she relaxed while both the boys drank their beers.

()()()

"Remember somethin' for me, okay, Rugrat?" Dean said that night as he sat on the edge of Anna's bed, tucking the blanket in around her warmly even though she'd told him adamantly that she was way too old to be tucked in.

"What?" Anna asked as she recognized the gushy, affectionate look in Dean's eyes, the kind that he only got when he looked at Sam or Anna after a close call and a few beers. That look of I almost lost you and I'm so lucky I have you.

"Earlier you said you felt like nobody. But here's the deal, kiddo. You are never nobody. You're always our baby sister-"

"Dean," Anna whined at the use of the word baby.

Dean laughed and apologized, "Sorry, Anna. What I meant is that you'll always be our sister and that means you'll always be somebody to us. And we'll always protect you. Even when you're lost-- Hell, especially when you're lost. Okay?"

"Okay. But Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"You do know that if I lose my memory again, I'm not gonna remember this conversation. Right?"

Dean looked at Anna's eyes, still so innocent and naive. She still looked at the world with a sense of wonder the brothers and many of their friends lacked. "Good point," he told her affectionately and leaned down to kiss her forehead.

There was more than one way of being lost, though, Dean knew. Someday Anna would step outside of her sense of self. She would do something, make some mistake, that didn't align with who she thought she was, who she wanted to be. Sam, just last year, had made mistakes Dean still had to remind him weren't a definition of his character. When Anna made that step, or experienced something that made her feel lost, that made her question who she was and how she fit in this world... Dean hoped she would remember this conversation and remember that she was always somebody to them and that she was always welcome with them, even if she had a hard time seeing herself as they knew her. The alternative was to get more and more lost, the way Sam had done until it was nearly too late last year.

As he turned back, smiled, and winked at her before hitting the lights, Dean wondered how an eleven year old girl could look in the mirror and feel like nobody. He wondered how it felt to see your own reflection as a silhouette that it was your job to fill.

He wondered if Sam knew.

He regretted that Anna did.

La Fin