Part 3

Beyonce was just winding down. The beat kept time with the dull thump behind his eyes. Someone was shaking him.

"Caleb. Wake up, Man."

Caleb slowly lifted his head, amazed at the feat considering he was sure his skull had quadrupled in size and weighed as much as a cannonball. The lights from the dance floor spun wildly as he tried to focus on where he was.

"I think he's wasted." A hand grasped his chin. "Dude, what have I told you about mixing pills with booze?"

Caleb blinked, pulling back. Dean's bleary face slowly came into focus.

"Dean, I've seen you chase a couple of Vicodin with a six pack," Sam said.

Caleb tried to turn to look at the younger Winchester, but was stopped by the crick in his neck. He groaned. Dean's hand moved to his shoulder.

"Do as I say, not as I do, Damien. You're a fucking light weight, whether you remember it or not."

Caleb quickly straightened; ignoring his head's screaming protest. "Deuce?"

"Hey, take it easy." Dean reached out to steady him, keeping him from tumbling out of his seat.

The touch brought a surge of energy. The connection Caleb shared with the Winchesters flared to life, psychic pathways zinging, no longer suppressed.

Realization dawned on Dean's face. "Wait-did you just call me Deuce?"

"Yeah." Caleb smiled. His memory was intact. "Supposedly, nicknames are one of our things. Right, Runt?"

Sam stepped closer. "You remember?"

Caleb stood, rubbing his temple. "Yeah. I remember everything."

"About damn time." Dean pulled him into a quick, hard hug. "It's good to have you back."

Caleb laughed, surprised at his friend's uncharacteristic Hallmark moment. He was also amazed Sam hadn't gone for his cell phone and taken the elusive chick flick pic he was always threatening them with. "It's good to be back."

"I was wondering if someone was going to claim Sleeping Beauty." I.M. Straight stopped at their table, dropping off two more beers. He looked at Caleb. "Some guys at the bar were starting to take dibs on who was going to play the prince. Your friend in the trench coat said your ride might be a while and that I should let you sleep it off."

Dean quickly put some space between him and Caleb. He shot the waiter an unappreciative glance. I.M. returned it with a wink. Dean elbowed Caleb. "What's up with your choice in locale, dude?"

"At the time, I was trying to be evasive." Caleb rubbed his sore ribs, gesturing to the patrons. "It's not like you would have looked for me here."

Sam picked up one of the beers with a snort. "Not in a million years. He made Castiel clarify the address twice."

"Good thing I have angel speed dial. Cas used his divine GPS to find your ass." Dean explained, claiming the other beer.

"Castiel was really here?" Caleb wasn't sure what was in his head and what was real anymore.

"Mac couldn't even get a read with your psychic mojo shut down. You were completely out in the open without cover, and missing most of your faculties." Dean held out Caleb's ring. "Not to mention this."

"Thanks." Caleb took the silver band, hating that he had put his family through even more trauma.

"I've given that to you twice, and I'm not even the Guardian yet."

Caleb slid the ring on, relishing in the familiar weight. "Third time is charmed."

"I'd feel better if it just stayed put."

"Sorry about that, but the Former Caleb thought you were fucking crazy." Caleb turned to Sam. "You should have heard the spin he tried to put on The Brotherhood. Josh would be impressed."

"He told us." Sam gave his brother a rueful grin. "He put Pastor Jim to shame. I'm surprised he didn't bring my dragons out as props."

"It's not funny," Dean defended. "You could have had much worse than a bout of forgetfulness, Damien. I have no doubt Zach or his winged henchmen wouldn't hesitate to use you as leverage, not to mention Darth Angel skulking about."

Caleb brought a hand to his chest. "I don't think you have to worry about that now. Thanks to your buddy Cas, I'm sporting angel graffiti."

Dean grinned, knowingly. "And all this time you didn't think Cas liked you."

"I was right." Caleb frowned at his friend. "What he did, he did for you. He finds me repulsive."

"So do most of the women in the tri-state area, but that never stopped you from trying to make nice, Damien."

Caleb frowned. "What exactly did he tell you?"

"Not much," Sam said. "He called to tell us where you were. He was waiting outside when we arrived, but didn't stick around for the details."

"I don't think he liked your hideout any better than I do," Dean said. "Between the two of us we've now introduced an angel of the Lord to two very different dens of iniquity."

"Castiel said you would explain what you felt appropriate," Sam said.

"Which means everything," Dean said. He glanced at his brother. "No more secrets."

Sam nodded. "What happened? How did you get your memory back?"

"I'm not sure exactly." Caleb rubbed a hand over his mouth, feeling as if he had dodged the proverbial bullet. He imagined it had something to do with realizing what Lucifer showed him wasn't what it seemed. Like someone once said, facts could be the enemy of truth. "I know why I lost it. Puts a whole knew spin on 'the devil made me do it.'"

"Lucifer did this?" Dean tensed. "He's behind the amnesia?"

"Let's just say he gave me good reason to want to forget."

"Was he behind the whole hit and run thing?" Sam asked.

"I don't think so. I think the damage had already been done and my abilities recognized a way to protect me." Caleb gave them the quick version, covering the 'nightmare' he now remembered from the plane, and telling them about his and Castiel's trip into the past.

"That sonofabitch." Dean growled.

"He pulled the same kind of thing with you that he did with me and Jess," Sam said.

"Minus the vessel part." Caleb lifted a brow. "I got the impression he wanted me for his own personal Luca Brazi. He thinks since I share a bloodline with him and a psychic connection with you, we'd make the unbeatable pair."

Dean downed the last of his beer. "I don't know which sounds more like the newest smut release- The Michael Sword or Satan's Muscle."

"Neither one of them's going to be playing anytime soon."

Dean's phone rang, sparing him from commenting on Caleb's optimistic streak. "Shit. It's Mac." He glanced at Sam. "You were supposed to call him as soon as we found Damien."

"No, I wasn't."

"That's not the story I'm going to tell." Dean held out the phone. "You want to explain your delay to The Scholar."

"Jerk." Sam snatched the phone, moving toward the outdoor patio where he could escape the music.

Dean gulped the rest of his beer, slapping Caleb on the shoulder. "We better get you back to the farm. Mac will expect the details in person and you owe him a 'sorry' on Former Caleb's behalf."

"I'll talk to him when Sam's finished but there's something I need to do before I go home."His dad would understand. Caleb twisted his hunter's ring, comforted by its familiar presence. He lifted his gaze to Dean. "Are you up for another road trip?"

It took them most of the night, Sam shouldering most of the driving. Caleb was less sure of his idea as they grew closer to their destination. Instead of the unnatural quiet of their Texas road trip, Caleb let conversation soothe his unease. He used the time to tell the boys about his and Josh's meeting with Victor and the information they'd gathered on Julian Smith's Triad. Despite the distraction, the smell of the sea almost had him insisting Sam turn the car around and head back to Kentucky.

"You don't have to do this, Damien."

Caleb turned to look at Dean. His best friend had followed him out of the car, and down the long twisting drive. Sam had hung back, sunning himself against the Impala in the early morning warmth. They had indulged his request, even though they might have not understood it.

Caleb knew there wasn't much they wouldn't do for each other. Triads seemed to have that in common, maybe all brothers did.

"Yes, I do."

He stared past the sand dunes, over the tall beach grass waving in the breeze. Caleb could make out the house near the water with its pale yellow paint and blue shutters. It was rustic and unlike the newer places they had passed on the way in. A faint tinkle of wind chimes could be heard over the crash of the surf. It looked just like his mother's painting; the one Dean had tracked down for him as a Christmas gift.

"Why?" Dean continued. "I don't see the point."

Caleb knew his friend was worried. They had just gotten him back; Dean didn't want to push their luck. "The point is this place holds power over me. It always has. It means Lucifer holds power over me. We can't afford that."

Dean sighed. "You already came back here with Cas, Man. That's enough."

"That's not the same and you know it."

"I know you're not going to find the answers you're looking for here. Trust me. I've taken my own jaunt down memory lane. There's only more pain waiting on the other side of that door."

"You're probably right." Caleb wasn't even sure of the questions anymore. Maybe he wanted to understand how his father could have been so selfish; maybe he wanted to find proof Isaac's last act was a selfless one. Intentions were everything, yet changed nothing. John Winchester taught him that. In the end, it was going to be just like Pastor Jim always told them. The truth would be more about what Caleb chose to believe but he couldn't move on until he'd finally taken the first step to free that scared little boy in the closet. "I have to face what's inside."

Dean held his gaze for a long moment, finally giving a resigned nod. "You up for some company?"

Caleb's mouth twitched. One thing he knew for certain, it was a journey he would not have to take alone. "I was counting on it, Deuce."