Please Read before you read the story:

Thanks to Jenny I've watched Coop and Ashlee's scenes from yesterday. I was so upset because I still see so much potential. Its heart breaking to see John and Caitlin bring it, knowing that it's so close to the end. Coop and Ashlee are still beautiful and magical together. I miss them. I'm not as desperate as I was before. I can't change the way the IIC are writing the characters. But it was nice to see my couple one more time. It was nice to see Coop be Coop again. John Driscoll, you are missed already. BTW: What happened to Doris? I was so confused... *laughing*

Anyway, I was watching the scenes and one line stood out to me. Ashlee's line about "real love" was so heartbreaking... and COMPLETE BULLSHIT! But it did inspire this. Coop is not in love with Beth. To make the audience think he might be is ridiculous. Cooth hasn't been together for long and we haven't seen them enough to feel attached to them. Beth is nothing but a nice lay and I hate Ellen Wheeler for trying to turn this into something it isn't. PLEASE FIND THIS POST GUIDING LIGHT!!!! YOUR WRITERS SUCK ASS AS WELL!! I HATE ELLEN WHEELER! She is a hack and they all need to be fired. *ahem* I hope you like the story...

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Title: Real Love

Rating: PG

Warning: This is my take on yesterday's show (December 29, 2008) and spoilers we know are coming. This is angsty with a happy-ish ending. Character in danger. Supernatural. Coop first person point of view.

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“This is real love for you, Coop Cooper,” she said the words without hesitation. Her voice was thick with unleashed tears. The tone and sentence rang in my head. Over and over Ashlee’s words repeated long after she was gone. Real love, I wipe down the bar and stare out the window. Real love…

Ashlee was and is my real love. She was the one that made me, my hopes and dreams, real. I move around the bar and pull up my story. The words are suddenly fake. Just like my feelings for Beth now seemed to be. Real love… why is it that I only think about that with Ashlee?

Hitting the backspace, I press my fingers to the keys and type what is in my heart. I stop my head from thinking. I stop my hormones from directing me like they have been doing with Beth. The words flow so much easier with Ashlee as my muse.

Pages upon pages of dialogue and emotion fill the screen. There is nothing blocking them now. The sun sets low in the west and before I know it it’s dark. Night has fallen. I stand up from the stool and bend to stretch my back. Real love… I smile typing that as my title. The previous one disappears like the clouds in my head I didn’t know were there.

I shut the laptop with the intention of finding the woman that drives me to be better than I am. Opening the front door to Company, I run into Beth. Her blue eyes are shiny. Her hands are shaking. Her lips are parted, words ready to jump from her glossy mouth. “Coop,” she starts.

All at once I realize I don’t want to be the man she chooses. I hug her; relieved to have found that part of myself I thought I lost forever. She buries her nose into the fabric of my shirt, her perfume drifts up to meet my nose. I find it difficult to respond to her closeness this time. There is no grief, no confusion, and no need for solace anymore. I gently push away from her, kissing her on the lips.

This is my goodbye. These are my final moments with Beth. It’s over and I’m the one to end it. For the first time in a long time, I’ve found the strength inside of me. I take her hands in mine, kissing each of them, “I’m sorry.” The words are freeing. I’m free. “I’m sorry I forced you to choose.” She opens her mouth and I shake my head. “There isn’t a choice. You need to be a Spaulding and I need to be with Ashlee. You were right before. We are too different and it would only become more and more clear as time went on.” I bow my head, interlocking our fingers together. “Thank you, Beth.” I look into her startled eyes. “You let me lean on you when I needed someone, but I don’t need to lean on anyone anymore.” I kiss her one more time than walk away.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see her turn and fold the papers I gave her. She pushes them into the waste bin. That’s where they belong as far as I’m concerned. My car is in the parking lot and I have a bounce in my step. I’m going back to where I belong. I’m going back to where my heart is at rest. Real love… I’m going to be with my real love. I pull my cell phone out of my front pocket and dial a familiar number. One that makes my heart sing.

Her voice mail answers. My hands sweat on the wheel; I hope she hasn’t given up. I hope we can start again. “Ashlee,” I start then lick my lips. “I was thinking about what you said before. About my real love. Well you were wrong. This new woman…” I shake my head. This needs to be said face to face. “I’m coming over to your apartment. We need to talk.”

Gunning the engine, I crank the stereo higher. A song that seems to cover all of my feelings plays as I speed down the road. A car comes up behind me, the headlights blind me. Blinking I move a little to the left, close to the yellow line, to minimize the glare, but the car follows my move. I can’t see. I speed up again to gain some distance. It follows me again. The road curves, I let off the gas, my tires spin out from under me. The black ice turns my car into the other line. An oncoming car smashes into the side spinning me again. The world moves in slow motion. Every snap shot saved in my mind until I hit the wheel and see nothing but black.

The song continues to play on the stereo and I step out of the vehicle. The wreckage is frightening. People are getting out and walking over to the car that was bent and crushed on all sides. The car that was following me rolls down the driver’s side window. Alan stares, his eyes cold, his face unexpressive which makes it all the more scary. He drives off leaving us all. I feel a little cold, but not freezing. I should be freezing. Snow is falling all around me, I don’t feel it either.

Blue and red lights flash, sirens sound. I see Frank climb out of the car. His blue eyes widen. He looks right at me, I must look horrible. “Frank,” I scream over the roaring in my head. “Frank, it was Alan. You need to go after Alan.”

He walks right past me; his entire body looks stiff and numb. I walk behind him, repeating the same phrases over and over again. Frank drops to his knees. A sob rips from his throat. It sounds more like a wounded animal than my big brother. I look down and want to throw up. My body is bent in an odd angle and bleeding. It can’t be real. It can’t be true. Not now, not when I’m so close to getting everything.

The natural instinct is to run and I do. I turn and run. I head for her. I need her. I need Ashlee. Blindly I make it to her door, my hand slides through the wood and I pull it back. Standing there I process this new information. Frank comes down the hall way toward Ashlee’s room. I want to protect her. She doesn’t need to know I’m gone, if I am gone. Silently I plead with Frank to turn back around. He knocks on her door. I pray she’s not home. Both prayers go unanswered. Ashlee opens the door. Her hair is wet, her face is red from her shower and she is wearing her favorite flannel PJs.

“Frank,” she grins at him. I can’t breathe, which I guess I’m not doing anymore anyway. She looks so beautiful. “What are you doing here?” Her smile falters. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s,” Frank swallows. “Coop’s been in a car accident.”

Ashlee pauses, her eyes glisten with tears. The door becomes her support. “Is he…Frank,” she shakes her head. “Where is he?”

“Ashlee,” he starts.

 I walk into the apartment and stand next to her. “I’m right here, Ashlee.” I lay my hand on her shoulder, urging her to feel me there.

“He’s in a deep coma,” Frank continues. “The doctors don’t think he’ll make it. He was hurt really bad.”

She looks away from Frank and nods her head. Fat tears slip from her eyes, “I’ll get dressed and be there as soon as I can.” Ashlee shuts the door and sobs with her head against the wood. I touch her shoulder again. She drops to the floor, wrapping her arms around herself. “Coop,” she whispers. “Please you can’t die. I need you to live.” She crawls to her room, too upset to walk, and then forces herself up to dress.

I watch her slowly disrobe and pull on a pair of jeans and a sweater. I realize there is nothing I can say. She won’t hear me now. There is a pull, something taking me away from her. I let it lead me where it will. I end up in the hospital staring at my own body.

People sit with me. Tears were shed over my body. Words of love and encouragement are said. They touch my body, but I don’t feel it. Time ticks by then stops when she walks in. Her hair is down around her shoulders and her eyes are hallowed. She’s still the most beautiful woman in the world. Ashlee touches my hand and for the first time I feel the sensation. For weeks she comes to sit at my side and every time she touches me, I feel it. Only when she does it though. She never talks.

On the first day of the fourth week, Ashlee finally speaks. “Coop,” she whispers against my ear. “I got your message today. You were coming to see me.” She swallows thickly. “I love you. I know I’m late in saying that, but I have loved you every day since I met you. You are my everything and I need you to live.” Her lips brush my forehead. The spot tingles. “Please don’t leave me the way I left you. You are my real love.”

Stepping up behind her, I lean down and whisper. “And you are mine.” I kiss her temple, lingering there a second. She gasps, touching the very spot I just kissed. “I love you. And I’m coming back to you.”

I step up to the bed and slide into my body. My eyes open and she presses a hand to her mouth. “Coop,” her voice is barely a whisper.

I stare at this stranger. I can’t connect the dots, but I feel like I know her. Like I love her. “I,” I stop. “Do I know you?”

The beautiful blond sitting next to me tears up and I know I’ve said something wrong. I open my mouth to tell her I’m sorry, but she stops me with her finger to my lips. “My name’s Ashlee,” she smiles bravely. “And if you don’t know me now, you will.”

My eyebrows come together, but I don’t say anything because her lips brush mine and I really don’t care. I have no memories of this woman. And somehow that is okay, because I know her in a different way. My heart recognizes real love.

What do you think? I would love to (need to) hear your thoughts on this.