Note: I will try to be as historically accurate as possible, but there will be some situations and facts I have to bend to make the story work! The first few entries will be a little slow, but I promise it will pick up! Thanks for reading :)

Introduction:

September 15th, 2009

Baltimore Maryland

Jacob Conners glanced at his watch as he walked around the exhibit at the Baltimore Civil Museum. Most of the curators had left for the night, but Jacob was scheduled to stay for a few more hours to stand guard, which annoyed him. The exhibit wasn't scheduled to open for two more days and the museum officials were taking security very seriously. Too seriously, he thought. The exhibit contained new and never before seen artifacts from the war which had been discovered across the country during the last few months. The sound of wheels rolling across the stone floor disturbed Jacob from his thoughts. He turned to discover a man in a wheelchair wearing a baseball cap rolling into the exhibit.

"Sir, the museum is closing and this exhibit isn't open to the public." He said politely.

"Ah well," replied the man gruffly as he dug around in the pocket of his jacket, "I'm Steven Jones from the Baltimore Times," He showed Jacob an identification card with his title," and I'm writing an article about the exhibit."

Jacob stared at the card for a few seconds, "I wasn't aware that the museum was letting the newspapers cover the story at this time. I thought they were waiting until the exhibit opened."

The man shook his head, "I'm really only interested in one particular piece."

"Oh?" Asked Jacob, "and which one would that be?"

"I'm looking for a letter." His voice softened for a minute, "a letter from a solider to his brother."

Jacob nodded, "I think I know the one you're referring to but…" he trailed off, "I'm not allowed to show any of the items to the public. I've been given strict orders…if you came back in a few days…"

"Look!" Shouted the man loudly, "I really need to see the damn letter. It's very important."

Jacob gave the man an angry look "listen buddy…"

"Sorry," apologized the man quickly, "It's just I've been searching for this letter for a very long time and…" the man got emotional for a moment, "I've got to see this letter. It's important. Please."

Jacob looked at the man for a few moments. He could tell the reporter was genuine with his feelings to see the letter. Jacob sighed, "Fine, but read quickly. If anyone sees me doing this I'm going to get fired."

"Say no more." Replied the man, "I'll be quick. Imma a fast reader."

Jacob walked over to one of the cases and used his key to open it. He gingerly took out the plastic casing that held the aging letter. He walked back over to the reporter in the wheelchair and handed him the letter. "You've got two minutes."

The man nodded and began reading the letter. Jacob watched as the man's eyes skimmed across each line. He watched as the man's face fell and as his lips twitched in pain. Jacob had been a guard at the museum for several years now, but he had never seen anyone get so emotional in an exhibit. "Thanks." Replied the man quietly after a minute or so, "sorry for any trouble."

Without another word the man handed Jacob the letter and began to wheel his way out of the exhibit. Confused Jacob shouted, "Hey! Are you okay?"

The man stopped and turned his head, "Don't worry about me son. I'm fine." He paused, "Actually if you get any more letters like this one could you let me know? It will be useful for my article."

Jacob nodded as the reporter handed him a card and then the reporter was gone. Jacob began to walk over to the case so he could put it back inside, but his curiosity got the better of him. What made the reporter so emotional? The letter was almost 150 fifty years old. He glanced down at the letter and realized he had never really read it. He had just moved the letter from place to place without ever really trying to understand what it was about. He decided to read it before putting it back. It read:

September 16,1862

Sammy,

If you're reading this then I'm probably not alive. I'm going to hand this off to Cass, or Father Castiel as he's known around here (yes he's here too), when I'm finished. My regiment is leaving for Sharpsburg in a few hours and if my memory of American History serves me right, I'm pretty sure we're heading to the Battle of Antietam. I'm sure you know more about it than I do, but it doesn't look good for me. I'll try to be vague as I don't know where this letter end up or if it will ever get to you. I don't know where or when you are, but there hasn't been a day where I haven't thought about you. Just so you know, whatever happens, please know that I forgive you. You are always forgiven. I know none of this was your fault and I am sorry I said those things to you. I was angry, but most of all I was scared. I know now that I had nothing to be scared of; we could have done it Sammy. We could have made things right. Together.

Being here has put a lot of things into prospective. I've seen a lot of things in my life…you could literally say I've seen Hell, but this…Sammy, this war is a whole new level of evil. I've seen friends, heck, brothers killing each other on the battlefield. Loyalty and love (or common sense for that matter) have no place here. This country and its people are falling apart. Cass and I are trying to find a way out, but so far we've had no luck. 'War' has us stuck here. We've tried to blend in and play our parts, but I don't think I can do it anymore. I can't take it. I want to go home. I miss you…I miss Bobby. I miss hunting. I miss actual plumbing and warm food. I'm alone here and more than ever I wish I were with you. I wish we could have ended on better terms. Please know that I am sorry. I know I let you down when you needed my trust most.

Just do one thing for me Sammy, finish it. Finish what we both started. I'll do what I can here so I can get back to you. I know you'd want me to try. To try and get out alive, so I will. For you.

-Dean Winchester

3rd Arkansas Infantry Regiment