Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or its characters. I'm using them with love and care and the utmost respect. Please don't sue me. I'm borrowing them for this story, which could turn into a series featuring an OFC of my own creation. Her, I claim ownership of, whether you like her or not. This story takes the Winchester brothers on an alternate route following "Home". Anything that has happened to Sam and Dean following that episode has not happened to them according to my story. This veers them in another direction. It's my own attempt at an AU story for the boys. :) I hope you enjoy it.
Rockford, Illinois – Rockford County Hospital
three months earlier
A pair of dark green eyes opened and blinked several times against the harsh light in the stark white hospital room. The boy's breath was labored, but he was, at least, breathing on his own now and not hooked up to a bunch of machines that were doing it for him. He glanced around the room, clearly confused by what he was seeing. He felt a strong hand on his shoulder. It gently squeezed him and he slowly turned his head to look at the hand. The movement – no matter how slow – made the boy feel nauseous. Still, he let his eyes move up from the hand on his shoulder and then to the face of the person attached to the arm.
"Nathaniel," the person softly said. It was a man with dark red hair – it had more than a sprinkling of gray now, the boy noted – and tear-filled, blue-green eyes. He gently ruffled the boy's sandy brown hair and smiled. "Oh God, son. We've missed you so much."
The 16-year-old boy smiled at the sight of his father, although the man looked a bit older and more tired than Nathaniel had remembered him being. Nathaniel still felt like he was 13, quite unaware that three years of his life had passed by while he was lying in this hospital bed. "Dad?" His voice was weak, raspy and an octave lower than the last time he had actually spoken. The sound of it shocked Nathaniel a bit.
"Yes, son, it's me," he said with a small nod, joyful tears filling his eyes. His voice seemed to break as he spoke, emotion just overwhelming him. "Mackenzie and your mother will be so happy to hear that you're awake."
"Wh-where's Emmy? I want to see Emmy."
Thomas Weir's features took on a darker and almost more solemn look. He slowly shook his head, closing his eyes as the question was asked. A couple of tears fell from his eyes, which he quickly wiped away. "I'm sorry, but your sister is gone, son," he softly said. That was only true in the sense that Emerson Weir no longer lived with the rest of her family, but at his wife's request, they treated the 23-year-old as if she were dead. And maybe that was for the best.
Nathaniel gently bit his lower lip to keep it from quivering. He wanted to cry at the thought of never seeing his older sister again, but he wouldn't let himself. He shook his head at what he had been told. He refused to believe that Emerson was gone in any sense of the word. But more importantly, somehow Nathaniel knew she wasn't dead.
"She left us three years ago, Nathaniel," Thomas explained, his voice soft and gentle. "Emerson doesn't want to be a part of our family anymore so we've had no choice but to let her go."
Nathaniel slowly nodded his head, although he didn't fully understand. Bits of his memory still seemed scrambled and confused. His body felt so foreign to him and although his father's words registered in his brain, he couldn't properly process them yet. He just nodded again and tried to hug his father back as Thomas held Nathaniel close.
