This is a rewrite of an old story of mine. I liked the idea but it was one of my first stories and it wasn't my greatest. This is definitely going to be different, although with the same basic idea.
I don't own anything.
This is my prologue.
There's a way. There's gotta be. A better way than this. Than sacrificing half the world for their game. There's always a better way…
Chris closed his eyes and rested his head on the desk. He did not close the journal, though. He couldn't seem to help himself. He'd read these words so many times that he practically knew them by heart.
There were two sitting in front of him. Scraps of paper falling out of both of them, written by two different people. He'd put his demon hunting on hold for the past week, put the search for whatever turned Wyatt in the future on hold.
The closer he got to the important date he'd been anticipating since coming back to the past the more nervous he got. He was still praying that he hadn't screwed up the past too much. It was supposed to happen tonight.
Bianca had protested against him bringing these journals back with him but Chris couldn't help himself. He hadn't been without them for years now and he couldn't seem to leave them behind. They were the only connection he had now…
He chewed his lip, flipping through them both. He knew everything they said and was grateful that they had been written. Though, Chris still shied away from some parts of them. There were things that he had read in them that he never wanted to read again, things that he didn't understand how anybody could go through and stay sane.
They carried so much personal information, much more so than the third journal that Chris had left in the future. Chris looked down at one of them and flipped to a page that he had read once and never again. He had never wanted to read these pages again.
He wondered what the man who had written this journal would think if he knew Chris had it. Chris knew that he'd never intended anyone to read it but he had written everything down. There was five years worth of history bound in leather in front of him.
He'd been arguing with himself over these journals since his decision to come to the past. He had to change what happened to Wyatt but that wasn't the only thing he'd considered changing.
The problem, of course, was that he wasn't sure if he could change anything without making it all worse. The price they would all pay if he failed to save Wyatt would be relatively high but the price they would pay if he messed up something that was written in these journals was a hell of a lot higher. It wouldn't be just his family that paid but the entire world.
Chris flipped the page again after staring at it. He couldn't read that again. He wouldn't. He'd never known anything about this stuff when he was a child, before everything had gone to hell.
Chris flipped to the first page and stared at the words there. The words that, in this time, wouldn't be written down for almost a year yet.
So, I guess here I am.. Whining like a bitch and writing here like a thirteen year old girl with her first diary. But, fuck it. I left everything behind for this. I left HER for this. To help him deal. To make sure this thing doesn't come after her too. I left them both and even if we kill this thing tomorrow, I'll never forgive myself for that…
Chris closed his eyes once again and sighed. P3 would be opening soon. He had about two hours before it was supposed to happen. Chris got up, put the journals away in the hiding place he'd found, the one he was sure that Piper would never find and went out into the club.
He secured himself a spot in the corner as the people started to come in, a place he could watch the door. It was going to be a long night.
It was exactly two hours and eighteen minutes when the person that Chris had been waiting for since he'd come back to the past walked through the door of P3. A man, tall with dark blonde hair, wearing boots, a leather jacket, and faded jeans.
Dean Winchester made his way over to the bar where Piper was serving drinks and Chris let out a relieved breath. The tension that he'd been feeling since coming back to the past faded, at least for the moment and he sank back into his seat. He hadn't screwed things up too much after all.