Thanks to everyone who had read, reviewed, favorited and followed this story. I love that you are enjoying it. This is short, but it's been half-written for ages so I finished it and decided to post it. This story is almost snapshotty in it's telling.

Also I promise that this story is going to be nothing like "Brothers (2009)". It's dramatic enough without torture and new romances. Enjoy!


He picked up the battered guitar and began to play. It was instinctive. The melody filled the room as his hands moved expertly, lovingly, along the fret. There was something sweet just out of reach as the music morphed into something softer, slower. He strained and he could just hear a woman singing along. Her tone was rich and her voice was perfection. He concentrated, trying to remember, but all he had was the sweetest soloist backing him up, invisible but so real that he could almost see her. Each night he dreamt of the woman in his picture. He wondered if it was her who was singing softly along in his mind. He knew he'd dream of her tonight. The only clarity he could find came in dreams. In his dreams he was surrounded, always by family and friends. Though her face was the only one he could ever make out. Sometimes voices filtered through but never faces. In his dreams he affectionately called one of the faceless friends 'Bas. And he often called out for a 'Beth'. But he knew, somehow, that the Angel was not Beth. Beth was important, infinitely so, but she wasn't the Angel that haunted him.

He glanced up at his surroundings and noticed that the patrons of the bar seemed awed by the American who had wandered up to the stage and began playing a discarded guitar. He was American. Of that he was absolutely sure. He had a plan. But first he needed to make enough money to smuggle himself out of this place into a country that had an American consulate.

He'd spent the last five weeks working odd jobs around the village. Repairing broken down vehicles and labouring out in the fields. Even without his memories he knew that there were no similarities between the world he found himself in and the one he'd for some reason left behind.

So he would continue to work, continue to search for his elusive memories. Then he would seek the truth. He was military. He had known that upon waking up in his motel room. From his posture to his instincts, he knew he must be American military. He just needed to get to a consulate. They would take care of him.


Rachel swayed back and forth, humming her favourite lullaby to the sleepy infant in her arms. She pressed a kiss against her daughter's light dusting of dark curls. Caroline was the most beautiful creature that had ever lived. It had been 31 days since they'd arrived home from the hospital and each hour Rachel discovered new reasons to adore little Caroline. The ache in her chest hadn't let up even for just a moment, but she was learning to live through it. Caroline was always going to have Noah's deep hazel eyes and unruly curls. And for that Rachel was both saddened and grateful. She struggled with the pain of being constantly reminded of Noah, but she was relieved that she'd never quite lose the memory of him.

Her eyes wandered around the room and tears pricked her eyes. Noah had worked so hard on this room before he'd been deployed. He'd been so excited about becoming a father again and he'd decided to go all in. He had only been given sporadic visitations with Beth over the years and Rachel knew just how ecstatic Noah was about his second child. He had built Caroline's crib and the wood detailing was exquisite. He'd painted the walls a light golden hue, then scripted lyrics everywhere. All of the little details he'd put into the room caught her attention now. The pictures he'd chosen so carefully for Caroline's mobile. The lyrics that he'd written for his child etched into the top rail of her crib. The model '67 Impala on the shelf next to Rachel's Tony and T.A.R.D.I.S. from Sam. Because Noah had demanded that their child grow up knowing the wonders of Supernatural and Sam had promised to train their child in all things dorky.

Caroline snuggled further into her mother's shoulder and her little fingers grasped Rachel's night gown. Rachel closed her eyes and allowed her daughter to anchor her. She was so good at that. Whenever Rachel found her thoughts and her heart wandering to war-torn countries, Caroline drew her back to the present and to her new reality. She was a widow and a mother.

The squeak of a floorboard alerted her to her not being alone and she glanced up to see Sebastian leaning against the doorway. He smiled softly with sad eyes. A fresh wave of tears threatened as she watched her husband's best friend and her daughter's Godfather. No one had been left untouched by Noah's death, but the two of them felt it most keenly. Gone was the laughing, trouble-making, snide man who Noah had loved so dearly. She hoped that someday, perhaps when Caroline was a bit older, that Sebastian would begin to enjoy life again. The somber, tender man before her had been a lifesaver. She would not have survived Noah's death and Caroline's first month without him, but she missed Noah's Sebastian.

"How was your date, Seb?" She asked quietly, shifting Caroline gently.

He shrugged his shoulders and moved to sit on the floor against the wall. She joined him and pressed her shoulder against his. They sat in contemplative silence for a small eternity.

"Blaine and Kurt broke up again." She replied eventually, though with great care. The two of them broke up with greater frequency than she and Finn had done over the years.

Sebastian shrugged again and Rachel decided to drop it. He was no longer the man that Blaine wanted, of that he was sure. The two of them had been together for a few months before Noah's death and they'd been truly happy. But everything had changed when her husband had died. Sebastian had lost himself, even as he held her up. So he'd ended things with Blaine and Kurt had swooped in as he always did, somehow aware of the breakup before anyone else.

Her upper lip twitched and she sighed. It was hard to remember a time where she and Kurt had been friends. She tried not to think of him with such malice but he'd been so awful about Noah over the years. And that was unforgiveable, especially now that Noah wasn't here.

"Did she wake you?" Sebastian asked, noting the late hour on his watch.

She shook her head. "I woke her."

She didn't need to explain. She knew that he snuck in here and watched Caroline sleep as much as Rachel did. She was the calming axis upon which their turbulent world now spun. He knew that Rachel found her bed too big and too cold without her husband. Just as she knew that the guest bedroom still didn't feel like his despite having moved in the day of Caroline's birth.

Sebastian sighed heavily, wearily. "I miss him."

Rachel nodded and leaned her head against his shoulder. "Always."

As the makeshift family leaned against each other, their tears fell and mingled. And Caroline Puckerman slept soundly through it all.


Quick note: I'm aware that the times don't match up, but Noah woke up a week before Caroline was born. Thanks!