My Brother's Keeper
By Wanderlust Ethereal
Summary: Dean had angels, Sam had demons, but what if Adam wasn't a perfectly normal apple-pie life kind of boy, either? Adam-centric. OCs.
A/N: Sooo… this is not what I planned to post for chapter four. But Chapter four was killing me (I'm still not finished, it's harder than I thought it would be) and I'd already written this one a couple of weeks ago and you people were so nice and supportive and I really, really wanted to post something… So. Well. Here's the stand-in for Chapter Four. I hope you like it.
Aaand… thanks for the reviews, SourSugarQuills and kattastic999. Did you know that I saw your reviews at New Year's, just before twelve, and I was like 'Aw, this people are wonderful!' New Year started out extra awesome thanks to you. And thanks to glistening moon who reviewed and alerted, and Gothic Barbarian for the alert. You guys totally made my day.
Adam goes from thirteen to fifteen for this one, some Kate, some John (OhgawdIhopeIportrayhimokay). The OCs don't get any screentime, though…
Chapter Four: Nameless Presents
For as long as Adam can remember, there have always been two extra presents. For Christmas, for his birthday, even for Halloween and Easter.
Always two extra presents. Always for him. Always without a sender.
When he was younger, he used to think they were from Santa, but as he grew up, he realized that 1) Santa wouldn't send him anything for Halloween or Easter, and 2) Kate was always more than a little disgruntled when the topic of the presents came up.
Then Santa wasn't real anymore, and the mystery presents continued to come. By then Adam had realized that his mom was downright terrified of the presents that came from nowhere, that never had any senders, and that would always, always find them, no matter where they spent the occasion – Adam remembers going to Milwaukee, or New York to visit Kate's cousins, or even the beach, but they always come for him.
Adam always liked the presents. They were always fun things, interesting things, things that Adam wanted but Kate could never buy on the salary of a single mother working as a nurse in the hospital.
Sometimes, Adam thought they might be from John. The enigmatic man that mom said was his father but rarely ever came around.
That was before John found out about the presents.
Adam still remembers that day. It was his birthday, thirteenth, and John's with them to celebrate. John. His dad. His dad. His dad. And it should have been wonderful, and all sorts of brilliant, but it isn't.
Because John found out about the presents and Adam still remembers how terrified he'd been just then because he thought John had gone mad, and how he'd sobbed and protested when the man who was supposed to be his dad ripped the presents away, still in their wrappers, and covered them in salt and tossed them into the fire to burn.
Adam still remembers John's eyes, dark with anger and livid, how he shouted at Adam about being a fool and how he shouldn't accept things that he didn't know where from, how it was dangerous.
And Adam cried while Kate tried to calm John down, because now he would always just be John to Adam, never dad, because Adam can't accept that his dad is this much of a disappointment. It's the first time it hits Adam, as in really hits him, that life isn't all he wanted it to be.
That afternoon, John apologizes and takes Adam out to a baseball game and Adam goes, albeit grudgingly, and thinks about the two nameless presents he isn't allowed to accept anymore.
They keep coming anyway.
John isn't around to throw them every single time, but he's made his point on the matter clear, and Kate pales every time they come, and she puts them in the trash, because, apparently, she agrees with John, no matter how much Adam pleads with her. She's set on the matter, and Adam frowns and watches the two presents that have always been a constant of his life never make it to him again.
It's a year and a half since then, Adam counts fourteen presents that have been carted off in to the dumpster – Halloween, Christmas, Easter, Birthday, Halloween, Christmas – when they stop coming.
To tell the truth, Adam's not sure whether to be relieved or disappointed. He's half-hoping whoever sends them doesn't stop, that they don't think he's being ungrateful or anything – because surely if they can figure out where he is and what he wants every Christmas, then they'll know if he's getting the presents they're giving? – and half relieved, because it's such a waste for them to keep sending him presents he's not allowed to accept. It's better like this, right?
Easter comes and there aren't anymore gifts.
When Adam's next birthday comes, fifteenth now, John drops by. He takes Adam to a baseball game, as usual, then buys him his first beer. And Adam and John have a drink, sitting on the hood of the Impala outside of the stadium and they talk about the weather, and sports and polite things that fathers and sons ought to talk about, like what Adam wants to do with himself when he grows up.
"I want to be a doctor." says Adam, and he takes a swig and grimaces at the bitter taste flooding his mouth.
"You want to work in the hospital? Like your mom?" asks John, nodding contemplatively.
"No, like K—" Adam catches himself "Like Dr. Drake."
John frowns.
"Who's this doctor?" he asks gruffly, and Adam thinks that no, no he doesn't want to tell John about Dr. Drake, he won't, can't tell John about the man he wishes was his father instead. And wouldn't that be just poetic?
"He used to work at the school clinic." says Adam offhandedly, "I think he's pretty cool."
And that's that. John doesn't ask anything more about Adam's doctor, and Adam is more than relieved.
It's only when John drops Adam off that Adam looks at the curb and realizes that there aren't any presents in the trash.
For a moment, he's actually disappointed. Then he shrugs and walks inside, leaving his mom to say her goodbye to John. He thinks they might be kissing, or some other lovey-dovey thing.
When he gets to the kitchen, he grabs a glass of water and washes away the bitter taste of beer from his mouth. He thinks he'll never like the taste. He listens as the rumble of the Impala's engine grow fainter as John drives away, to wherever it is he goes when he's not with Adam and Kate, and he hears the door open and close as Kate comes in. It's just him and mom again.
"I'll be upstairs, mom!" he calls, because he can't bear seeing her look so happy and so crushed at the same time. John's the love of her life, Adam knows, but he's leaving, he's always leaving, and Kate and Adam are always the ones left behind.
Adam closes the door to his room and tries not to slam it, Kate might hear, and then they'll have a row. Adam doesn't want that.
What Adam does want is to flop into his bed, and go to sleep, because John is messed up, and Kate is hopelessly in love, and Adam is tired, and he doesn't like beer, and he doesn't like John, and there aren't any presents in the trash…
Adam jumps when he hears the crinkle of wrappers and rolls off the bed clutching his chest thinking – Ow, that hurt! There's something on my bed, what the heck? – And pulls off the covers.
There are two presents sitting innocently on his bed.
Adam can feel his jaw dropping. They must have been put there recently, because Kate always checks if the presents have come – she looks in his closet and under his bed and even in the ledge under his window because the presents have been appearing in sneakier manners ever since she started throwing them out – but she's missed them this time and they're on Adam's bed and Kate doesn't have any idea.
Adam steps back, towards the door, remembering John's warnings, and Kate's pale face and disgruntled expression, and the presents in the trash…
There's a single click of the lock. And it's final.
Alone in his room, Adam Milligan grins. He's fifteen, and presents in brightly coloured wrappers are getting old, but it doesn't matter. And he doesn't care if he's kneeling by the bed with a silly smile bigger than anything, doesn't care if it's biggest he's smiled all day, doesn't care if he's ripping into the presents like a five year old on his first Christmas.
He doesn't care. Because the presents are there, and Adam's just happy that somewhere out there, there's someone that isn't too messed up or too hopeless or too sick and tired of all this crap to give him birthday presents like he's just another little kid and not fifteen watching the rose-tinted glass fall to pieces around him.
It feels good.
Adam gets headphones, and a box of brownies from the first gift. And a brand new laptop from the next. And he knows that his mom can't know, so he hides the headphones in a shoebox. The brownies go in his bedside drawer while the laptop finds space under a medical trivia book in his desk. Then Adam tosses the wrappers into his school bag, and plans to dispose of them before class on Monday.
He doesn't notice the birthday card that falls out of the wrappers and slips under his bed.
If he had, he might have figured it all out a lot sooner.
And done. Next Chapter will be up as soon as I can finish it, which I hope will be soon, but it's killing me, it really is. I know what to do, but the feel just isn't there...
Well, thanks for reading, everyone! :) Tell me what you think? I'd love to hear it, specially if you have any nifty advice about how to get over semi-writer's block...? -looks hopeful-