Author: DMartinez
Email: dmarttx
Disclaimer: Characters portrayed within belong to Kripke and the CW, WB. No infringement intended.
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Incest, abuse, non-con, genderswitch, bornasagirlDean, threesomes, possession, abortion, rape, strong language, hexes
Summary: Lives that Caleb and Dean (or Deanna) never had.
This was just an exercise that got out of hand. It's been multiplying rapidly. Each entry is a different universe. If you need a comparison for clarity, think of the threads Liz sees in the Crushes storyline (Or These Dreams when Liz reads the journal) where she's able to see ways her life could have gone. Only in this case, it's Caleb and Dean. There is some Caleb and Deanna. It's not done. There are several chapters done already. I'll update the warnings as necessary.
Don't read this if you're looking for happy endings, though I may mark the ones that have them with an ** in the subject like of the part. Most of these stories are just two page windows. I may be persuaded to write other windows into the same thread.
1 - Solidarity
John Winchester howled when Caleb Bailey made it over the hill covered in mud but the young man was charging for the finish line comprised of an old rain drum and a garbage bin full of empties. It was no wonder given the length of the course and the previous night's rain. Dean Winchester was soaking wet and on his heels but not a drop of mud to be seen. Dean almost overtook the older teen but Caleb reached out an arm to pull him back. The two ended up in a wrestling match about ten feet from the finish line. Sam even let loose a laugh at the sight. The match went on and on. John had to put a stop to it before they killed each other. It was a real worry after a bit. "I'm calling it!"
Caleb flopped down in the grass, leaves and grass stuck to the mud all over him. Dean got to his feet and made a face, disappointed not to be declared the winner. "Come on, Dad. We were close."
"You spent ten minutes within ten feet of the finish line and you never got there. It's a tie." John grabbed the hose. "Come on. Both of you up."
Caleb shoved himself to his feet and let John blast the mud leaves and grass off him. Then he stripped to get the crud off his body. Dean was in a similar predicament. Caleb carried the sopping clothes to the clothesline. They strung up their own clothes while John relayed the tale to Hank Bailey over a beer when the man returned from his paying job. Caleb heard his father's guffaw and his chest sunk in a little. He was 17 and a 14 year old had shown him up. Had tied with him, which was kind of worse. He'd just been starting to like the kid.
Caleb took his shower and ate dinner with the rest of them. John was taking off in the morning and the boys were staying another week or so. Hank slid a beer to Caleb and Caleb sipped it until his father took it away. When Sam and Dean were glued to the TV in the den, John slipped out the backdoor. A few minutes later, 10 year old Sam was standing on the front porch with a beet red face. He didn't throw a tantrum the way Caleb figured he would; just stared in the dark in the direction the Impala had disappeared. Caleb found him a couple of books to read behind the bar where the kid had made a nest out of some old blankets and a couch cushion. He was an easy kid to entertain.
Hank stood over Caleb as the younger Bailey smelted down some silver John had brought. Dean sat on a stool to watch. Hank rubbed Dean's head. "That there is a gift. Caleb can make a bullet out of anything."
"It's pretty cool." Dean watched intently but stiffly. Caleb's own back was getting stiff just watching his father's hand on the top of that kid's head. He was a little relieved when Hank moved away from him.
"His mama could do that, too. I saw her make a cross bow out of two paperclips, a pencil, a rubber band and hypodermic." Hank slid a hand down the back of Caleb's head. Only marginally better than normal. "We were in the waiting room waiting on Caleb to make his appearance."
"Wow." Dean breathed, green eyes lit up with awe.
Hank's hand closed around the back of Caleb's neck. "She died when she was having him but she gave him all her gifts."
"Dad, cut it out. You'll make me spill." Caleb shrugged him off.
"Stop shaving your head, huh. You look like one of those neo-nazi fuck-off skinheads." Hank told him before he wandered away to get drunker than he already was.
Caleb finished up with the silver and let Dean help him knock the bullets loose of the molds when they had cooled enough. Sam had fallen asleep behind the bar; Dean just threw a sleeping bag over the kid before sliding into his own on the couch. Caleb took himself to his bed. He got a couple of hours of sleep. Then he looked up to find Sam standing at the foot of his bed with his sleeping bag. The kid didn't say anything. The eyes said it all. He was 11, in a strange house, pissed at his dad and he had no friends. "Go on."
Sam scrambled to get the bag laid out next to the bed and settled in. "Thanks. Dean's snoring."
Caleb snickered. Maybe he had gotten Dean good in the face after all. When Caleb woke, it was raining and dark as fuck. Dean was perched on the foot of the bed. "Sorry about Sam."
"No trouble." Caleb rubbed his head and the stubble scratched his hand. He was due for a shave soon.
"He heard your dad talking about your mom. He got upset." Dean was showered and dressed and just sitting on the foot of the bed.
"Yeah?"
"He doesn't remember ours."
"Right." Caleb couldn't remember what exactly he'd heard about the Winchesters.
"I didn't know you didn't meet yours."
"Yeah well. Thems the breaks."
"My dad goes on and on when he's drinking. Like… too far in to pull himself out." Dean started and let the sentence die. "Goes on and on about how I look like her."
Caleb's stomach twisted at those words. His father's hand ghosted down the back of his neck. He had to stop himself from reaching a hand back and swatting the sensation away. "Yeah?"
"Yeah." Dean nodded, his hand on the back of his own neck.
Caleb pulled back the other side of the blankets. Dean scrambled in. Caleb didn't know what to say. The kid hadn't said anything really. Caleb just knew. Dean had just known. Dean stared at the ceiling. They listened to Sam's soft snores as the room started to lighten up. "Does Sam know?"
"He'll figure it out soon, if it don't stop." Dean's voice was even. Steady.
"It doesn't stop on its own." Caleb whispered and clenched the blankets over his chest with his left hand. The right hand was under his pillow, wrapped around the knife.
"No?" There, the kid's voice was shaky.
"Pubes are a turn off. Don't mean the turn on ain't still there."
"Yeah?"
"Whatever it is he likes, I get rid of it."
"That why you shave your head?"
"Well I'm not a skinhead."
"Could you… cut my hair later?"
"Yeah. I got a buzzer."
"I can't take my eyes out."
"Sunglasses." Caleb reached back and found a pair hanging from his headboard. "It's a gift."
Dean put them right on his face. "You think I could grow a beard?"
Caleb looked over the kid's smooth chin. "Start scraping with a razor, might get something going."
"Sorry I embarrassed you yesterday." Dean whispered from behind the shades. They didn't say anything for a long time. The rain pelted the window and Sammy snored on. "You think girls will know?"
"Not if you don't let 'em get too close."
"How you mean?"
"I don't mean physically." Caleb swallowed down a lump. "Nice girls want to know everything about you. They want to meet your folks. They want to cook you dinner and they start watching when you jump if someone comes on you from behind. One-night stands work better."
"You ever…" Dean pulled the shades off and those green eyes were filled with tears. "Get hard when he touches you?"
"Sometimes. It don't mean shit, Dean. Okay? It don't mean a damn thing." His voice was harder than he'd intended. Maybe the subject just made Caleb tetchy.
"Okay." He put the shades back on.
"Half the time I wake up with wood and I know it ain't got nothing to do with nothing." Caleb breathed out. There, his voice was back.
"Sometimes…" Dean's fists were clenched in the blanket. "I want to… to… with a guy. Just to see."
"To see what?"
"If maybe…"
Caleb almost shot out another protest. Their dads laying hands on them did not make them gay. Getting a hard on when his dad was fucking him up the ass did not make him gay. Shooting a load in the middle didn't make him gay. It didn't. Caleb breathed in and out harshly but didn't say a word. He didn't trust his voice.
"Sorry." Dean's fists clenched harder in the blanket.
"It happens." Caleb's voice broke. Broke like it hadn't in a couple of years. His face was wet. He wiped the wet off and kept his eyes on the ceiling.
"Ladies! Up and at 'em!" Hank called from the hallway. "Breakfast in 20. I want all you guys shaved and showered!"
Caleb got up and ignored his hard on while he got his kit together. Dean lay in the bed for a long time watching him. When Caleb was stepping out the door, he turned to Dean. "It don't mean anything, Dean. Not a damn thing."
"Would it be bad if it did?"
Caleb stared at Dean. He was 14. Just 14 and sounded like he had a better handle on it than Caleb had. He breathed in harshly and let it out slow. "I wish I knew."