What I can do Chapter 1
Warnings: none really some swearing angst and pain, AU after IMTOD and ELAC what could've happened in between times.
Disclaimer: Not mine so don't sue
A/N: This one's actually finished!! I decided to post the first chapter unbetaed cause I'm too excited to wait for all of it to get polished so don't blame carocali for any mistakes she only got the one story about 10 minutes ago. I promise If Only is on its way as soon as we finish polishing it. Now on with the story!!
2:37 A.M., and he watched his brother sleep, he felt guilty for drugging him into this quiet slumber but it had to be this way. Sleep, real sleep was too rare a commodity to count on these days. He'd only a few moments left to make this memory before it was done. He didn't know what would happen after, but at least he'd have this memory, this moment, to hang on to, his brother at peace even if only in dreams. It was easier this way; it had to be easier than what they'd been doing so far, slowly picking each other apart, ripping open wounds that hadn't even started to heal. His brother needed this so much more than anything he could provide and honestly it was a relief to know that for him it would all be over, that he could, no would set things right.
He felt the presence join him in the room and he instinctively stepped between it and his brother's bed, as a cold hand rested briefly on his shoulder. It would be able to collect its payment soon enough, he wouldn't let it have anything more.
"It's time, are you ready to begin?"
He turned away from the man sleeping on the bed, grateful that their quiet conversation wouldn't rouse him. He didn't try to stop the soft stream of tears that tracked down his face. The pain in his soul becoming too much to bear, for a moment he considered backing out and not doing this, just sitting here instead to wait for his brother to wake and finally talk to him, he'd tell him what was going on in his head, whether he wanted to hear it or not. Then he was swamped with the wave of shame and guilt, and squared his shoulders. Placing the envelope in front of the alarm clock where it was certain to be seen he made his decision.
"I'm ready, you're sure he won't remember, until it's over?"
He searched those cold, dead eyes for a hint of deception but couldn't find any or maybe honestly he just didn't want to see it if it was there. He took the hand that was offered to him and he let himself be slowly led from the room. He gazed back over his shoulder one last time, drinking in the sight of his brother, as the door swung slowly closed he whispered the words he could never say when his brother was awake.
"I love you."
"Where the hell are they and why're we still here in the first place?"
He thought a spike of irritation running through him at the thought of the time they were wasting. Running a hand through his hair he stalked out to the front porch to stand and listen for the sound of that stupid wreck of a minivan to return.
Truth be told he'd felt twitchy since waking up at Bobby's earlier this week with no real idea of when or how they'd gotten there. Bobby kept assuring him it was the remnants of his concussion and it would get clearer with time. His memories from the hospital were vague at best and something seemed to be tickling the back of his memory, leaving him feeling like he was out of step with the world, which only made him more annoyed that they were still stuck at Bobby's waiting for the damn car to be fixed.
He'd spent most of his life solving puzzles, but this one had him stumped. He can't place what's wrong but something is seriously off. Sighing in frustration he stalked back through Bobby's house, checking the wards and the salt lines finding nothing amiss, he resigned himself, however impatiently on waiting for the minivan's return so they can continue restoring the Impala. Just thinking about the car, and what they have left to finish leaves him with the urge to get back on the road and get moving again, but to do that they need the car, so it's come full circle and he's back to waiting.
'They seem to be taking their sweet ass time though, might as well get the laundry done, be quicker to get on the road that way' He thought as he ducked back inside heading for the room they'd been bunking in since their departure from the local hospital.
'At least I don't have to haul it all to the laundry mat for a change' smiling at the thought of being able to get this chore started and doing something meaningful other than watching the dryer spin at the same time.
'You'd think I never taught him to pick up after himself.' He admonishes to the air as he collects jeans and shirts from where they've been haphazardly strewn around the room they share. His right foot catches on something and he trips, falling, only his quick reflexes keep him from plowing face first into the end of the bed, instead he's sprawling nearly under the edge of the bed, his feet near a half unpacked duffle. He glared at it angrily, then realizing it's too far back to be the culprit that caused his fall; he continues to search the area near his feet, seeing nothing he decides he's more tired than he thought.
'New plan, get clothes in wash and hit the couch with a beer and wait for those no good lay-a-bouts to return.'
He's almost on his feet when his eyes catch a fluttering sheet of paper near the edge of the bed. Curiosity getting the better of him he plucked the letter off the ground and started to scan it and when he feels the strange prickling of something other moving up his arm. Acting on instinct, he reflexively starts to toss the paper away from him; as the paper flies free, the words he's read suddenly take on meaning, without realizing it a sob escapes his throat as he collapses heavily onto the edge of the bed, hands shaking and his breath coming out in a hiss, he gingerly picks the rumpled sheet of paper off the floor. "Dear god, what have I done?" he asked the room around him.
John sat on the edge of the bed, rereading his son's final words to his brother. As he read through the letter a second time he felt the same tingle start up his arms. He waited to see what would happen if he allowed the contact to continue. Moments later he felt the compulsion, faint though it was to drop the paper and pay it no mind. John realized then the paper had been enchanted to make the reader forget about its existence after completing it, but like most charms of that type, it seemed it seemed to have a specific target and when the spell couldn't wrap around John it collapsed in on itself.
There was a small pop as if the air pressure suddenly changed in the room and with it came a new level of realization. The room around him began to change and for the first time John got a look at what had caused his fall in the first place… a duffle bag. All around the room things began to appear, a knife in its sheath, clothes piled on a chair that John would've sworn was empty earlier. With the physical changes came the memories and now the final puzzle piece fit.
'I don't belong here.'
He remembered it all, the crash, and Sam's determination to save his brother, his own decision, the deal with the demon. Grief, love, and fear tore at his heart he took in the contents of the room around him, reveling in the memories of his boys, he'd known that the boys would take it hard when he was gone but he'd never expected one of them to resort to something like this. He'd made his decision to die in Dean's place and had accepted the consequences of his actions. Now with a heavy heart he left the bedroom, letter in hand, to wait on the porch for his son's return, dreading that he was going to have to destroy his son by telling him the truth of what the brother he had no memory of had done for him.
A/N: So what do you think? Unlike If Only this one is already finished and will be up in full over the next few days. It should be 3 or 4 chapters at most. Chapter 32 is still being polished but we have hopes and 33 is not far behind again thanks for the support!!