To The Victor Go The Spoils

By: Ridley C. James

Beta: Tidia

Disclaimer: Nothing Supernatural belongs to me.

Timeline: Pre Season Three; Follows directly after the story Temporary Remedy. I suggest reading that one as well as the Prologue to this Paper Tiger.
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Chapter 7/11

Caleb was cold and wet, unsure of his condition and his location. The hunter walked along a deserted highway, surrounded by dense forest. It was dark, the fog heavy, thick and slow-moving, similar to histhe hunter’s thought processes. He rubbed his head. “Damn it. What the hell is going on?”

Caleb continued walking, moving forward, never thinking to look back. The highway had to lead somewhere, the promise of reaching an important destination dangled in front of him. He blinked, some of the fog cleared.

“You’ve got to be shitting me.”

Looming in front of him, not more than twenty feet in the distance was a steel-arched metal and cement giant. Caleb’s breath caught. “The New River Gorge.”

Caleb would know it anywhere. He glanced around; his gait increased, carrying him closer to the bridge. “I’m in West Virginia.”

“You’re definitely not in Kansas, Junior.”

Caleb stopped abruptly, whipping his head in the direction of the voice. Out of the fog wrapped trees stepped the impossible. “Johnny?”

John Winchester moved closer, hands jammed in his coat pockets, a rare grin on his rugged face. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost, Kiddo.”

Caleb shook his head, a sharp pain bringing a hand to his chest. He sucked in a quick breath, blinked several times. John was still there. “It took dying for you to get a sense of humor?”

“Some things never change.” John’s smile grew, dimples revealing themselves. “Same old smart ass.”

Caleb hesitated, taking in another hurtful breath. “Is it really you?”

John’s smile faded. He removed his hands from his pockets, extended one in Caleb’s direction. “It’s me, Caleb.”

Caleb’s uncertainty vanished like fog struck by sunlight. He gripped John’s hand and was roughly pulled into an embrace. “Damn, I missed you, you old sonofabitch.”

John squeezed him hard. “I missed you too, Private.”

Caleb laughed, reveling in the solid feel of his mentor, reluctant to let go for fear the man would disappear. “Damn, Johnny. I was your lackey for over twenty years. I think I’ve earned a promotion-at least to Sergeant.”

“I reckon you have, Kiddo.” He pulled back, but kept a firm grip on Caleb’s shoulders. “Maybe even Corporal.”

Caleb grinned. “I’ll be expecting those stripes.” He reached a hand out, touched John again. “I don’t believe it. What are you doing here?”

“That’s my question.” John let him go. “What the hell are you thinking, Junior?”

“Me?” Caleb blinked at the more familiar tone, the frown of disappointment. “I’m not the one who went and got himself killed.”

John looked away.

“Shit.” Caleb ran a hand through his wet hair. “Did I?”

John nodded towards the bridge. “Take a walk with me.”

Caleb resisted. He fought to focus his thoughts, to remember. He had been in the cavern, arguing with Dean… “But if I’m dead…what about the boys? Are they okay? I can’t leave them unprotected.”

“Walk.” John shoved his hands into his jacket once more and started forward. “Promotion or not, I’m still in charge.”

“Bossy in the afterlife, too.” Caleb rubbed at his chest, but followed. “How’s that working for you?”

John shot him a quick grin. “It’s a good thing Jim was right about all that mercy and forgiveness shit.”

“Jim? Have you seen him? And Mary, are you guys together now?”

“I’m here to talk about you, Caleb.”

“You going to help me get back?”

John ignored Caleb’s question, stepping onto the New River Gorge. “The first time I crossed this damn bridge, Dean informed me it was the longest and highest in the United States.”

Caleb sighed. “Yeah.”

“Ace talked the whole way across, yammering about this bridge and that.”

“His way of dealing with the height thing.”

“He never liked bridges, even as a kid.” John ducked his head against the cold wind that had picked up, started walking once more. “Surprised the hell out of me when he came out of the next gas station carrying a black and white print of this monstrosity.”

“This isn’t an eyesore, John. The New River Gorge is an architectural wonder. It’s beautiful.”

“I told your daddy he should have made you take shop class in school. A well-cared for block engine is a thing of beauty, Kid.”

They walked in silence for a moment, Caleb slightly awed by the weirdness of it all. He cleared his throat. “Dean sent me that print for my thirtieth birthday.”

John stopped suddenly. They were nearly half way across. He glanced over the edge before bringing his gaze to Caleb. “I know. Earth be Spanned- Deuce.”

“Dean showed it to you?”

“I stole a look while he was asleep.”

Caleb shook his head. “You never did get the whole privacy thing.”

“When you live out of a car, that’s not an issue.”

Caleb rested a hand on the side of the bridge, stared out over the edge, relieved the river below was obscured by the fog. “Best birthday present I ever got.” He’d spent a small fortune having the five dollar print framed. It was one of the few material things Caleb cared about-top of a list that included a rusted out Jeep Wrangler and a faded playing card.

“You mean a lot to him, Caleb. You could always reach him when I couldn’t.”

Caleb winced, another sharp pain lancing through his chest. “What’s this about, Johnny?”

“Unfinished business, I guess.”

“Yours or mine?”

“This is about you. My time has come and gone.”

“So you going to bitch at me for all the shit I’ve fucked up since you died?”

John looked at him. “No. That’s not why I’m here.” He stepped forward. “And you haven’t messed up.”

Caleb shifted under his mentor’s intense scrutiny. There was an unrecognizable look on John’s face. It was a cross between sympathy and remorse. “Then out with it. I need to get back.”

“Do you want to go back?”

The question caught him off guard. “I…yeah, of course I want to go back.” His momentary hesitation was a surprise. Did he want to go back? He had to go back.

“Things haven’t been easy these days.”

“You keeping an eye on us, Johnny?”

“Always.”

“I don’t know how to feel about that.”

“My truck looks like shit by the way.”

Caleb laughed. “Not a lot of time for detailing.”

John nodded. “The boys have been keeping you busy.”

“Fruit of your loins? It was inevitable.”

“You’ve done right by them, Junior.”

Caleb glanced away, another pain threatening to take his breath. “Maybe.”

“You’ve always done right by them, backed them up- even standing against me when need be.”

Caleb shrugged. “Got me knocked on my ass a few times if I recall.”

John smiled. “I admit I was a bastard half the time.”

“You were the best teacher, a great friend.” Despite the bad times, Caleb loved John. Had he ever told him?

“And you were a great student. You’re a natural hunter and Knight. A whole hell of lot better for the job than I ever was. You’re the real thing, Kiddo.”

Caleb found the surrounding darkness more enviable than John’s gaze. The man could always see right through him. “I appreciate that, Johnny. But a lot of things have changed since you’ve been gone.”

“Nothing changes family, Caleb.”

Caleb gazed at his shoes. John knew about Noah Seaver. “Yeah. I understand that.” It was the undeniable fact Caleb had been resisting his entire life. He couldn’t change who or what he was.

“You’re more Ames and Winchester than Seaver. Training you was one of the things I got right. Do you understand me?”

The unexpected words had his head whipping up to meet his mentor’s gaze, but a reply escaped him. Caleb merely nodded, licked his lips.

“You know who you are. You’re The Knight of The Brotherhood. Act like it.”

A ghost of smile touched Caleb’s lips and for a moment the tightness in his chest lessened. Breathing was easier. “Damn, John I knew you would find a way to order me around, even from the great beyond.”

“Somebody has to.”

Caleb tilted his head. “They miss you, you know. Sammy and Dean. Mac and Bobby. It’s been hard.”

“I miss them too.” It was John’s turn to break their gaze. “I didn’t plan on leaving them so soon.”

“You did what you had to.”

“We all make choices-choose certain paths to follow. Even choices made with the best of intentions can have terrible consequences. Love blurs the boundaries of right and wrong.”

“Now you sound like Pastor Jim.”

John laughed softly. “I appreciated the old man’s genius a little too late.”

“I appreciate the fact that dying has giving you some kind of Zen-like experience, Johnny…but could you just tell me what it is I need to get from this whole freaky out of body experience. Lay it on the line, like the good old days.”

John’s gaze narrowed, his features growing grim. “Sammy is going to need you, Caleb.”

“Sammy’s never really needed me. He has Dean.”

“He’ll need you now. It’s important you two learn to work together, rely on each other.”

Caleb brought his hand to his chest as the throbbing threatened to double him over. “But Dean…”

“-has chosen his path.”

Caleb resisted the pain, forced himself to stand straight. “What the hell does that mean?”

“It means like father like son.”

Caleb shook his head. “That doesn’t make sense.”

“It will.”

“Are you trying to tell me Dean’s in trouble?” Caleb shook his head, inhaled. “But you saved him. I saved him. Right, damn it?”

John’s gaze moved past Caleb, searching the fog behind them as if he had spotted something or someone in the land-tethered clouds. “Sometimes it’s not about saving the people we love, Caleb. It’s more about knowing how to let them go.”

“Fuck that.” Caleb grabbed John’s sleeve, forcing the man’s gaze back to his. “I’m not letting go of anyone. Not without a fight.”

John covered Caleb’s hand with his own, their eyes met. “Sometimes surrender is the only option, Corporal.”

He gazed past Caleb again. Caleb turned to follow the same line of sight. “Who the hell are you looking for?”

John didn’t answer. Caleb turned to question his mentor once more.

John was gone.

“John!” Caleb stepped forward. The fog grew thicker. It was like breathing wet cement. “Johnny? Damn it!”

Caleb leaned on the side of the bridge, holding his chest, fighting for breath. He closed his eyes, willed himself to wake-up. “Anybody!” Caleb slipped to his knees. “Please.”

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“Please don’t do this!” Dean leaned over Caleb again, forcing another breath into his best friend’s lungs. “Don’t let go. Not yet. Please.”

“Dean…” Sam said softly. His brother had shoved Ethan out of the way, continuing the CPR himself.

“Help me, goddamnit!” Dean looked up, glared at his brother. “Start compressions again. Now!”

Sam’s chest clenched. The pain in Dean’s eyes far too familiar to the stormy turmoil left in the wake of their father’s death. He wanted to soften the blow, ease the suffering, but didn’t know how. “It…it won’t help.”

Dean reached across Caleb’s lifeless body, wrapped his fist in Sam’s shirt and jerked him forward until they were almost nose to nose. “Yes it will! He’s still here. I can feel him, Sam. I. Still. Feel. Him.”

Sam bit his lip, felt his eyes burn. The lump in his throat threatened to choke him. “But you’re not…”

“Psychic?” Dean said. “I don’t need to be a fucking psychic to know when I’ve lost someone.”

Sam shook his head. He’d said the wrong thing, in the wrong way. Treading around Dean when he was scared or hurt was like a minefield. Any other emotion, Sam had mapped out long ago. But these were unfamiliar. Sam felt completely helpless. “I didn’t mean…”

Dean cut him off with another shake. “Wait! You’re a psychic.” He let his brother go, ran a hand down his face. “Shit!”

“Dean?” Sam glanced to Joshua, before returning his gaze to Dean. He was afraid his brother might have slipped over some kind of invisible edge. Sam wasn’t sure what he expected Joshua to do, but he was the most familiar person left in the room. “Are you alright?”

Sawyer stepped forward. “Dean, perhaps you should…”

“I should have fucking thought of it before. How could I be so stupid?”

“Dean, what are you talking about?”

Dean grabbed his wrist in a vice-like grip. “You’re psychic, Sam. Your connection. You can reach him. Bring him back.”

“What?” Sam tried to pull away as Dean guided his hand to Caleb’s chest. “Dean, this isn’t a vision. He’s not unconscious! He’s…” The word caught in his throat.

“Don’t you say it!” Dean maintained his hold. “He’s not gone. I’d know if he were gone.”

“You don’t want him to be gone. Just like with…” Sam almost said ‘with me’ but remembered their audience. “You can’t save everyone!”

“I know.” Dean forcefully placed Sam’s hand over Caleb’s heart, keeping his on top of his brother’s to prevent Sam from moving. “Only the people who matter.” He tightened his fingers, entwining them with Sam’s. “Please, Sammy.”

Sam couldn’t- wouldn’t say no. If nothing else, he believed in his brother, loved him. He looked down at Caleb, his gaze traveling to his and Dean’s entwined hands on the older hunter’s chest. Dean’s silver ring glinted in the lantern light, blurring out of focus as Sam’s eyes filled. He raised his head, met his brother’s gaze and nodded. “I’ll try, big brother.”

Dean’s smile was tremulous. He tried to laugh, but to Sam’s ears it sounded broken. “There is no ‘try’, Luke. Only do.”

Sam closed his eyes, sent out a silent plea to the universe and went after Caleb.
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It was like diving into the cold dark lake all over again. All sounds disappeared except the rush of his own blood, the beating of his heart. He concentrated on Caleb, frustrated when the familiar psychic link failed to answer him this time. Pressure built in his skull as he tried over and over again to connect to the other hunter-the telepathic equivalent of banging his head on a brick wall. Still, he couldn’t quit.

His brother’s eyes haunted him. Dean was so sure he felt Caleb. But was that only wishful thinking? Dean wasn’t psychic. Despite the new mysterious Guardian gift, his heart was his true power. Like with most superheroes, it was his strength and his weakness.

Dean’s heart was a deadly weapon, mostly to himself. But it saved those around him over and over again. Sam, on the other hand, trusted his head. His sharp mind was his favored tool, the added psychic ability a surprising bonus. However, it seemed useless now. He longed to feel whatever connection his brother had been so sure of. As if merely asking had opened a door, Sam caught a flicker.

It didn’t resonate in the deep recesses of his mind as usual, but seemed to strum from the center of his body. The answer suddenly appeared like Caleb’s lifeless body lying on the rocky bottom of the lake.

Dean used his emotions where Sam was ruled by thoughts. Maybe some things lay beyond the reaches of intellect; maybe Dean was feeling Caleb on another level entirely. Sam stopped thinking about Caleb, blocked out the image of his blue-tinged face and instead remembered his friend.

Barking erupted around him. Sam was startled from his trance, concentration broken. He sat up quickly, shocked to find the solid feel of grass and dirt beneath his hands. Gone was the cave, Dean and the others. He was in a forest, dark and foggy. “What the…”

Sam’s lap was suddenly full, eighty pounds of wriggling Black Labrador attempting to bathe his face in adoration. “Scout?” He breathed, his hands locked on the side of the dog’s face, his fingers wrapped in soft fur. It couldn’t be.

Scout barked again, nuzzled her cold wet nose beneath his chin and nudged. Code for get up, let’s go. Sam recognized the directive and despite the bizarre situation made his way to his feet. “Girl? What are you doing here?”

The dog’s only reply was another yip. She stepped onto the deserted highway stretching parallel to them, casting one more glance at her boy before lopping into the fog.

“Scout! Wait.” He was searching for Caleb and found his dead dog instead. He thought of other times when his mind had done incredible feats. Pastor Jim loved to remind him that miracles happened everyday, and sometimes people were open enough to see them. Sam needed a miracle. He took a deep breath and followed Scout’s excited barking.

In moments he was in front of a large steel bridge. He recognized it through the dense hovering fog. A picture of the bridge hung in Caleb’s New York apartment, one of the only things marking the home as his friend’s.

He felt a warmth settle against his legs and looked down to find Scout leaning against him. Gone was the gray from her muzzle, her warm brown eyes as clear and golden as when she was a puppy. She whined, her entire body seeming to wag with the thumping of her tail. “Is Caleb here?”

Scout barked. Sam scanned the expanse of the bridge. “Caleb? Caleb! Are you there? ” Sam ran forward, Scout on his heels as he heard a distinct whisper on the wind.

“Sammy?”

“Caleb?” Sam strained to see in the deep fog, but let his heart lead him to the middle of the bridge. There on the side was Caleb, kneeling on the ground.

“Sam?”

“Thank God.” Sam smiled, putting his hand out to his friend to help him to stand. “I was so afraid I wouldn’t find you.”

“What are you doing here?” Caleb accepted the hand, but struggled to stand.

“I came to get you. Scout -” Sam turned in a circle. The Black Labrador was gone.

“Do you know where we are? Where’s Dean? Is he with you?” Caleb shivered.

“I think we’re in your mind.” Sam gestured to their surroundings. “Psychic trip. Dean’s not here.”

“Not in West Virginia, huh?”

“Sorry.” Sam shrugged, knowing they had to get out of Caleb’s mind and back to the living and breathing.

The older hunter ran a hand through his hair. “Kind of like in Texas, when we were at Jim’s in the library.”

Sam nodded. Caleb seemed to be reviving.

“Am I in the hospital again? Because Deuce is so going to have ‘Coma Boy’ stitched in my jacket.”

“Not exactly.” Sam frowned. He decided he needed to encourage them to walk back to where Scout had found him.

“Worse?” Caleb pulled away, refusing to move.

“Yeah.”

Caleb bent over, panting. “Maybe…maybe you should just let me go.”

“No!” Sam squeezed Caleb’s arm, refusing to release the other psychic. “Dean needs you. We need you.”

“Your Dad said that… But he also said I should learn to let go.”

“Dad? He was here?” Sam looked around, wanting to see his father.

“He’s gone.” Caleb was rubbing his chest. “Sammy… what’s going on with Dean?”

“This isn’t about Dean, Caleb. It’s about you.”

“You and Johnny study the same script, Runt?”

Sam sighed, unable to follow Caleb fully because he hadn’t shared the experience. “We…I just want you to be okay. We’ll figure out everything else when we have to.”

Caleb stood up. “Cross that bridge when we come to it?”

Sam nodded. “Please Caleb. You have to trust me.”

Caleb gripped Sam’s other arm so they were facing each other, interlocked, much like Dean’s hands were entwined with his over Caleb.

“I trust you, Sam.”

Sam gasped, feeling as if he had once again fought his way to the surface of the lake, dragging his friend’s dead weight with him. He drew in another breath of air, took in his surroundings. He was in the cavern again by the lake with his brother and Caleb.

“Sammy?” Sam recognized his brother’s voice. “You with me?”

Sam opened his eyes, narrowing them at the harsh light so different than the dim fog of the bridge. He was in the same position, his hand entwined with his brother’s on Caleb’s chest. “Dean...” he started to explain until Caleb’s chest suddenly heaved under their touch. The older hunter coughed, gagging as water was forced from his lungs.

“Damien!”

“Holy shit!” Ethan said.

“Get him on his side.” Gideon ordered.

The brothers responded, Caleb was struggling to pull in another breath.

“Caleb?” Dean supported his friend’s head as the older hunter continued to choke and expel more of the lake. “Come on, man.”

Gideon shoved in beside Dean. Sam, still crouching backed away to give the professionals more room.

“Eli, grab one of the oxygen tanks.” Gideon pointed to the rope still hanging from the hole above them. “Joshua, I need my bag, the portable I.V. We need to get some warm fluids in him.”

Sam grabbed the back of Dean’s jacket. “Dean, step away, let them help him.”

Dean turned his head, looked again at Caleb before backing up again. “Josh-move it! Let’s go”

Joshua moved towards the rope, but was stopped by Ethan. “I’ll go. I packed the bags and there’s some stuff we’re going to need.”

Dean looked to Sam. “Stay with him. I’m going to help.”

Sam nodded, knowing his brother couldn’t sit on the sidelines feeling helpless. “I’m not going anywhere.”

The coughing and choking subsided and Gideon handed Sam the face mask. “Let’s get this on him.” Gideon glanced to Joshua. “Build a fire.”

Sam carefully slid the mask over Caleb’s head, worried when the older man didn’t resist or put up a fight. “Shouldn’t he be awake? Is that a bad sign?”

Gideon didn’t answer him. Instead he ran his knuckles over Caleb’s sternum, eliciting a flinch and low groan. “Talk to him.”

Sam bent down, laying his hand on Caleb’s face. “Caleb?” His skin was still like ice, the older hunter’s lips tinged an unhealthy blue. “Can you hear me? It’s Sam.”

Caleb groaned again, his hand floundering towards the mask. Sam caught it and held on tightly. “Caleb? Come on, man. Open your eyes.”

Ethan hollered out from above. “Incoming.”

“Eli, grab the I.V. and help me.” Gideon ordered and Elijah responded.

Sam focused on Caleb, continuing to talk to the older hunter, who was slowly coming around. Caleb’s eyelids fluttered. “Sa…” He started coughing again, struggling to free himself of the mask.

“It’s me. I’m here.” Sam glanced to Gideon. The EMT was preparing the needle. “Just breathe. Take it easy.”

“So cold…” Caleb said.

Sam ran a hand over Caleb’s hair. “We’re working on that.”

“Hold his arm, Eli,” Gideon said.

Sam moved to allow Elijah to take his place, and to fall into the background.

Elijah leaned over the injured hunter. Caleb gazed up at Elijah. Sam felt the surge of fear and adrenaline a moment too late. Caleb evaded Eli’s hold. He scrambled away from the hovering men, pushing the oxygen mask away from his face. “No! Stay back.”

“Caleb!” Sam tried to stop him, but Caleb made it to his knees.

Elijah moved closer, holding his hands out. “We’re trying to help, Caleb. Just take it easy.”

“Stay the hell away from me…Jarrett. I don’t need your help.”

Sam’s chest clenched. “Caleb… that’s not Jarrett.”

“Sammy?” Caleb turned his head to the younger hunter. “You…okay? Did he hurt you?”

“Caleb, I’m Eli. Remember?”

“What did you do with Dean?” Caleb demanded. “Where is he, Jarrett?”

Elijah put his hands out. “Caleb, Dean’s fine.”

Caleb shook his head, his hand going to his chest. “Did you take him to Griffin? More… torture sessions?”

“What? No.” Elijah looked at Sam. “What’s he talking about?”

“He’s out of his head.” Gideon stood. “He doesn’t know what he’s saying.”

Despite his near drowning, Caleb moved quickly. His fingers finding and latching onto the gun Dean had discarded when preparing to join Ethan and Sam in the lake. He brought it up with a shaky hand, pointing it directly at Elijah. “If you hurt him again… I will kill you.”

“Reaves.” Mathews took a step back. “It’s Elijah! You’re not thinking straight.”

“Caleb! Put the gun down.” Sam tried to keep his voice even, but his heart began to race.

“Dean!” Sam heard Joshua yell up to his brother. “Caleb needs you down here. Now!”
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Dean and Ethan shared a look as Joshua’s strained voice floated to them. “Go. I’ll get the rest of the things,” Ethan said.

Dean didn’t need any urging. He feared the worse as he lowered himself down the hole to the lakeside once more. The sight that greeted him was unexpected; Caleb on his knees, holding a gun on Elijah. “What the…”

“He thinks we’re in North Carolina-he thinks Elijah is Jarrett. The cold and the setting must have triggered a memory or something,” Sam stated, not looking at his brother.

“Shit.” Dean took a step towards Caleb. “Damien, snap out of it man. It’s Dean.”

“Deuce…” Caleb coughed, his eyes narrowing as he turned towards the other hunter. “You’re okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“But Griffin…”

“Isn’t here, man. It’s just us.”

“Mathews…”

Dean shook his head. “That isn’t Jarrett, Caleb. We’re safe.”

“What the hell is going on?” Ethan demanded. He had landed on the rocky slope near Dean.

Elijah risked a quick glance in his brother’s direction. “It’s a misunderstanding. Reaves is sick…hypothermia.”

“I’m sick?” Caleb brought the gun back up to point at Elijah with a hoarse laugh. “You’re the sick fuck, Mathews! I’m not… torturing a little kid. He’s ten. Ten! You let your goons terrify him-hurt him. For what? Because Griffin said so?”

“What’s he talking about?” Gideon demanded.

“He’s crazy.” Ethan retrieved his gun from its holster. “And he’s pointing a gun at my brother.”

Dean stepped in front of Ethan. “Don’t even think about it! You’ll have to go through me first.” Dean could understand Ethan’s concern for his brother, but he’d be damned if anyone was going to hurt Caleb.

“Ethan, just stay calm. Everyone calm down!” Elijah kept his hands up. “Caleb’s not going to shoot me. Right, Caleb?”

“Why shouldn’t I, Jarrett?” Caleb shook his head. “Your conscience suddenly caught up with you after the damage has been done? Dean is dying! You dragged us across the mountains in a snowstorm to freeze to death in this fucking cave!”

“Caleb,” Dean licked his lips. He began to inch forward. “Dude, we’re in Wyoming. Remember? You took a hell of a fall, swallowed a couple gallons of water.”

Caleb blinked, turned his head to Dean. “Wyoming?”

“Yeah.” Dean moved closer. “Your mind’s playing tricks on you. That’s all.”

“No.” Caleb shook his head, flitted his eyes between Elijah and Dean. “Griffin’s playing tricks, Deuce. He’s trying to get in my head.”

“Sam?” Dean glanced at his brother. “Keep your mind to yourself.” He didn’t want his brother to try to reach Caleb while he was in this state. He had a feeling it would only add to the confusion.

”I know what you and Griffin are planning. Just kill me and get it over with. ..but let the boys go.” The gun shook in Caleb’s hand.

“Damien, we’re fine,” Dean tired again until he was interrupted by Elijah.

“I’m sorry, Caleb. You’re right.”

“What are you doing, Eli?” Ethan hissed.

But Dean understood what Elijah was attempting. He was embracing the past.

“Hurting Dean and Sam wasn’t my intention.”

Caleb laughed. “You were one of the ring leaders, Jarrett. You kidnapped them, you bastard. Admit it! I’m sick of all the lies.”

Elijah cut his eyes to Dean, silently asking for some guidance.

Dean nodded, trying to provide some guidance. “You’re right, Caleb. He should have never gone along with Porter’s plan. Kidnapping us, plotting against Jim, against The Brotherhood, it was all a mistake.” Dean was close to Caleb, could almost reach out to him. “But he gets that now. Remember? Jarrett’s going to help us get away. He’s going to fix it. You’ve just got to give him a chance. You said it yourself; he came through in the end.”

“That’s bullshit!” Ethan snapped.

“He’s not lying,” Elijah answered with no emotion.

Dean grimaced. Elijah’s talent was that he was able to know if someone was lying. This was not the way the truth was supposed to be revealed, if ever.

“That can’t be,” Ethan uttered, “Eli?”

Elijah focused again on Caleb, his voice husky. “I won’t let Griffin do anything to you.”

Caleb faltered, lowering the gun slightly. “He’s going to kill me. That’s what he planned all along. Me…then Jim.” He blinked, swaying slightly. “Just…don’t let him hurt Dean anymore and Sammy. Promise you’ll get them out.”

Elijah nodded. “I promise I’ll make it right. I’m on your side now, Caleb.”

Caleb lowered his arm. Dean closed the distance between them, taking the gun in one fluid motion. “Easy, Damien. I’ve got you.”

Caleb collapsed against Dean, allowing the other man to take most of his weight.

“You back with us?” Dean eased them to the ground. He gently cupped Caleb’s chin, reinforcing eye contact. He felt Caleb shivering, blinking a few times before taking in a deep breath.

“I hate the fucking water, Deuce.”

Dean laughed. “I know, Damien.” He hugged Caleb to him , reveling in the rise and fall of his chest. He was reluctant to let go for fear Caleb would slip through his fingers like water in a sieve. “You’re safe now.”

“Dean?” Sam came up behind his brother, offering help with Caleb.

Dean nodded, the two of them lowering the other hunter to the ground.

“We need some help here.” Dean looked back at the other hunters. Ethan and Gideon remained where they were, shell-shocked. Ethan was still holding his weapon in a defensive position.

“Did you hear him?” Elijah snapped. “He needs help.” The professor strode over to Gideon, pushing him towards Dean, Sam and Caleb.

“None of that can be true,” Ethan said softly.

Dean swallowed, realizing how right Jim had been to keep Jarrett’s involvement a secret. To grow up believing your father was an honorable man provided a role model, an ideal to aspire to, but a father as a traitor only led to a life of penance.

“It is,” Joshua spoke up before Dean could muster some words. “I heard it all from my father. He had a hand in it, too.”

Dean’s gaze shot to Joshua. “What?” He bristled with anger, which Caleb must have sensed since he gripped Dean’s arm. He looked at his brother who shook his head. This wasn’t the time to rehash the past. “At the moment, I don’t give a fuck about your fathers. Get over here and help Caleb, or I’ll see to it that you all lose your rings. I swear to God if it’s the only thing I do as Guardian, I’ll erase your families from The Brotherhood.”

“He’s too cold,” Sam said.

“I’m freezing,” Caleb countered, shivering to prove his point.

“Complications of the hypothermia,” Gideon grabbed his bag and moved towards them.

“I saw Johnny, Deuce.”

“Don’t talk, dude. Take it easy.” His heart squeezed at the mention of his father. He reminded himself that he couldn’t go back, his father couldn’t help him.

“He…he said you were leaving.” Caleb shook his head. “You were in trouble...”

Dean licked his lips; he blotted the deal from his mind. “I’m here.” Dean looked up at his brother. “I’m not going anywhere.”

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