Disclaimer: these characters are not mine, they belong to other people.
Notes: crossover between Angel and House. First fanfic after a break of a few years
I woke up the other day and realised something. The life I believed to be mine alone wasn’t. All the years I had spent at medical school never really happened. The alcoholic mother I spent a childhood caring for wasn’t even my mom. I can’t be completely certain if she was even real. All I have is memories, memories that I know can’t be trusted. My dad an emotionally, physically abusive bastard who I hate with a vengeance isn’t even my dad. It doesn’t matter if I have a lifetime memories of them as my parents, none of it actually happened. Mom finally drank herself to death and cancer ate away at my dad until there was nothing left. I don’t miss them and I know that isn’t normal. They were never really my parents to begin with. They were just the people Wolfman and Hart picked out of some fucked up book to raise me. That however really doesn’t explain my total lack of grief at there deaths.
I know all about the deal you made with Wolfman and Hart. You wanted to give me a normal life. You never wanted any of that for me until I went psycho and tired to blow myself up. You do know I was never rally serious about any of that don’t you. I realise now that I was having some sort of breakdown, but looking back it’s not as if that’s a big surprise. I grew up in a hell dimension. The creatures that most people (even vampires) fear were my constant companions. You gave me this chance of a new life and you never realised that when I reached the age of 25 the PTB would return my memories of the first life I had. There were many glues about my true nature before then, but I choose to ignore them. Can you even begin to imagine what it is like to know the life you have isn’t real? Do you even know how hard it was to ignore the urge to hunt you down like a rabid dog? Twenty five years of a life that I can’t even be sure happened. I know I went to school, had a few friends and even a few lovers. My current partner, well what I have with him is complicated. I know there are records of me being born into this life, there are records of my having attending school, working and even paying taxes, but it doesn’t make this life any more real to me. How can I remember living two lives’s, how can both of them be real? The answer isn’t simple. Simple isn’t something wither one of us can do. I have had to make a decision to save my own sanity. To live the life I have now and embrace my true nature or to join you in the world which has caused me so much pain. I choose the life I have now. The only reason I am embracing my true nature is for the simple reason that it can no longer be denied.
I know that you recently fought in a battle. A battle alongside your son. That person wasn’t your son. That should be more than obvious, since your bio-logical son is taking the time to write you this letter. Knowing that he wasn’t your son doesn’t make his death any easier, does it. It makes his death so much harder. So who was the person you believed to be your son. A person connected with the powers. A person working for his redemption, before dying in battle. I knew that when the powers gave my memories back there had to be a reason and I was right. They told me with the knowledge of my previous life I would be better equipped to help there champion in the upcoming battle. I naturally told the powers to bugger of, which wasn’t the best thing for me to do. The powers told me it was my destiny to help you fight the good fight, I still didn’t want to know. I told the powers in less than friendly terms that I had a life I liked. I they wanted your son to help you in battle they had to find someone else to play the part of your son, because I had no interest. So you had watch a person you believed to be your son die in battle and for that I’m truly sorry. Perhaps the only comfort I can give you is that he found the redemption he was seeking and gained entrance into his version of the afterlife.
You don’t have to believe I’m your son, I’m not asking you to. If it is easier for you carry on believing that Connor died in battle. I’m not going to fall apart if you don’t recognise me as your son. I have a good set of friends and a partner who loves me. I work at a great hospital and although it can be stressful most of the time I enjoy my work. I know that eventually the powers will do something to me for refusing to help you. I can only hope that whatever action they take does not in anyway hurt Gregory.