"It's Jim"
Chapter 2
Disclaimer: see chapter 1

"Damn it Damien, you used all the hot water!" Dean's mumbled voice came through the closed bathroom door.

A loud laugh echoed in the room as Caleb yelled back, "Privileges of being the senior hunter, first shower."

The door banged open as Dean emerged, clad only in his jeans, towel draped around his shoulder as he ran it roughly over his short cropped hair. "Wounded should get first call."

Caleb stood grabbing his boots from next to the door, "Wounded my ass, it was a scratch. I can't help you couldn't get out of the way of the play dishes that the poltergeist started throwing." Their latest hunt had been a poltergeist at a local Daycare. When the children started getting items thrown at them by unseen forces the place had been shut-down, but unfortunately for the two hunters it seemed all the little rug rat's playthings had been left in the building, giving the angered spirit an unending supply of ammunition to hurl at them as they tried to cleanse the place, though Caleb did find it amusing when Dean was getting pummeled by all the baby dolls.

Dean couldn't help but chuckle himself, "Who would have thought those little plastic dishes could hurt so much?" Caleb tossed Dean the first aid kit, the small gash wasn't too bad, but it still stung. Digging in the kit the younger hunter pulled out the antibiotic ointment and the box of bandages, disbelief crossed Dean's face as he held the box up, "Seriously Dude, princess bandages?"

Again the older hunter laughed as he watched Dean place a couple little pink bandages across the gash on his upper arm. "Pink's your color Deuce." All hint of laughter left Caleb's face, his forehead pinching as he brought his hand to the side of his head, "Shit" he growled out, sitting heavily on the bed he had just stood from, "Deuce…"

Dean looked up as his nickname was whispered out by his best friend, "Shit, Damien?" abandoning the kit the young man made his way quickly to the psychic's side. He reached, grabbing the older man's shoulders as he went to fall forward off the bed, Dean allowed Caleb's head to rest on his shoulder as the vision overtook the hunters mind.

The woods were familiar; John had taken them on numerous maneuvers through these very woods when they were kids, but this trail was one Caleb had only been on a couple of times. Over the years Jim had allowed them access to every inch of his property except the ridge that was the back border. He had only said it was a special place to his wife and that he'd appreciate it if John would keep his 'war games' away from it. John knowing how it felt to loose the love of your life obliged the Pastors request. The only times the boys had ever been there were the few times Jim would take them on walks, each of the boys had loved the view of the valley below.

It was that view that Caleb was taking in now, he turned as he saw Scout break through the edge of the tree line, the dog stopping about ten feet from the edge of the twenty-five foot drop off. As the psychic watched Jim came out onto the ledge, next to the canine. "still beautiful" Caleb heard Jim whisper as the older man turned and walked toward the Maple tree that still held some of it's red leaves making it stand out against the majority of bare trees that had already lost all their leaves for winter. The young man watched as the Pastor gently laid his hand against the bark of the tree, closing his eyes, "I miss you everyday" again the older man whispered as he turned back toward where Scout sat. Patting the dog's head the Pastor walked past her, standing on the very edge of the drop-off. Jim took a deep-breath, adjusting his rifle then he unscrewed the lid to the thermos and took a drink. Looking up at the sky as it was taking on the bright orange of late afternoon Jim looked at Scout, "we better be heading back ole girl." The dog yelped in reply as Jim took one last look out over the valley, illuminated by the late day sun; as he turned to go, Jim misjudged how close he was to the edge. Caleb felt his heart jump into his throat as he watched Jim drop his thermos as his foot slipped off the ridge. The older man fell hard as he started to slip over the edge. The psychic watched as Scout raced over toward her master, grabbing a hold of the man's sleeve. The Pastor slipped further as he was unable to get a firm grip on the rocky ledge. Then Caleb watched in slow motion as the last hold Jim had slipped away, his sleeve tearing out of Scout's mouth as the dog started barking feverously, the hunter watched as Jim fell back from the ledge, disappearing into the canopy of trees below. "NOOOO!"

"NOOOO!" Caleb's abrupt yell caught Dean off guard as his friend lurked backward from his grip, the psychic's breath coming out in short gasps.

"Hey man, take it easy, breathe…" Dean took a hold of Caleb's face as he seemed unable to focus, "Damien…look at me, man you need to breathe."

Dean's face swam into view as the image of Jim falling was burned into the older hunters mind, "Jim!"

Nearly all the color left Dean's face at the name the escaped his friends mouth, "What?!"

Caleb ran his hands roughly over his eyes as he tried to stand, Dean coming to his feet to steady the older man, "We gotta go, now!" Caleb started racing around the room, gathering his things, throwing them into his bag.

"Slow down Damien, what about Jim? What happened?" Dean caught the shirt Caleb threw at him as the distraught man started gathering Dean's things as well. "Caleb!"

The use of his name stopped Caleb's motion a moment as tear-filled eyes turned to meet his friend. Dean took a step back as the pain in his friend's eyes registered; he took another step back when the hunter came to stop in front of him. "He fell off that ridge where Emma's tree is. We have to go." Sitting to put his boots on he glanced at the younger man.

"He's not…" Dean couldn't even bring himself to say it. It was unthinkable to think of Pastor Jim Murphy hurt let alone dead.

"I don't think so, I think I would feel that connection break, but we need to get there, no one will know where to look, we have to get there now." Dean finally started moving around the room.

"We're three hours away, is anyone else closer?" Dean finished getting his own boots on and was doing a last look around the room before grabbing his leather jacket as he following Caleb out the door.

Opening the trunk of the Impala they quickly threw their gear inside then climbed into the large vehicle, "We're it Deuce, so you better be showing me all eight that this cars got."

Silence filled the car as Dean pealed from the parking lot, quickly finding the interstate 65 south sign, knowing that would take them into Elizabethtown, then from there into New Haven and to Jim.

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Jim woke to the sound of distant barking, he knew it was Scout, but couldn't understand why it sounded to far off as the dog had been walking with him. Not knowing why he was on his back Jim tried to sit himself up, "urrrrrrrrrrrrrrh!" he cried out as pain finally registered, nearly stealing his breath. Quickly abandoning that idea the Pastor decided to lie still and try to take inventory of the injuries he didn't recall receiving. Okay, breathing was ragged as he seemed unable to catch his breath from his yell, which could indicate broken ribs, he silently prayed it wasn't a punctured lung, but as he wasn't yet tasting blood in his mouth he held on to that little bit of hope. "Okay Jim let's check our arms." he whispered to himself as he slowly began to move his extremities, "left arm okay, right arm definitely busted" he gritted out as it lay limply at his side. "Okay now, let's try our legs." again pain shot through his body at the abuse it was feeling as he tried to test his legs, neither of which was he able to move. However, he did take some comfort, if that was possible in this situation, that he could feel the pain from the lower part of his body as the agony of trying to move made its self known. As the pain receded dark spots started playing around the edge of his vision as he finally focused at what was above him. It was then as those black spots came together that Jim realized what had happened, "Oh God." he whispered out as his last thought came to him, "I fell off the ridge."

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"Son of a bitch, of all the times to hit traffic…" Dean slammed his hand on the steering wheel as they seemed to be inching along the interstate. They had hit a backup just south of the Cedar Grove Road exit, still several miles from the exit they needed.

"Just head down the emergency lane, Clermont exit is the next one; we can get to New Haven from there." Caleb grabbed the dash as Dean jerked the massive vehicle into the far right lane and started speeding down the emergency lane to the sound of angry honks as he flew past stopped traffic. They knew of several ways to get to Jim's after years of coming to the farm from different directions, using endless back roads, so as the exit came into view Dean shot up the ramp, not stopping at the light as he turned left speeding down Hwy. 245.

Silence filled the car for several minutes as the sparse traffic was welcome after the bumper to bumper they had run into. "Can you still feel him?" Dean didn't want the answer to that question, but felt the need to ask. Caleb would have reacted someway if the connection to the Pastor was lost.

Caleb rubbed his head, as a headache that started with the vision continued to build in intensity. "Barely, but it's still there. We just need to get there Deuce." the older hunters voice trailing off as he continued to focus on keeping an open link to Jim.

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The next time Jim opened his eyes it was dark and he could feel the cold starting to seep into his body. The pain was now dulled by the dropping temperature and thinking he could at least sit up Jim tried again only for the same reaction as pain flared through his chest, "Damn it" He whispered out. Cursing wasn't something anyone heard much of from the Preacher, but on the few occasions that it seemed it was the only language appropriate it would slip out. Closing his eyes, Jim tried to breath through the pain, willing himself to not fall asleep again. His eye's snapped open at the sound of a familiar voice.

"I'd say young man that here I am finding you again in a sorry state." Jim's head turned toward the voice as the friendly face of his former mentor came into view.

"Solomon?" It had been a few years since the Senior Pastor that Jim had worked with had passed away.

"Good to see you haven't forgotten me, now how did you end up in this mess my boy?" The figure sat down on a nearby log watching the injured man.

"I'm not sure…" Jim took in a ragged breath, "I was on the ridge, next thing I wake up down here." the younger man's eyes took on a lost look, "Solomon, nobody knows I'm here."

The specter could hear the fear that the Pastor was trying so hard to hide. The figure moved a little closer as he reached out to touch Jim's shoulder. With everything Jim had experienced, seen and learned about since being introduced to the Brotherhood, he surprised himself when he didn't feel threatened by the Ghost next to him as he felt an unexpected warm touch on his arm. "Someone knows and they are trying to get to you as we speak. So you better hold on young man or you will hurt those who care about you the most."

"Who?" Jim felt a cough coming as pained flared through his body again. Panic filled the Pastor as for the first time he could taste the unmistakable coppery taste of blood, "Solomon?" this time fear filled the hurting man's voice as he knew he was getting worse.

"Jim, you need to stay calm, I promise you help is coming. Those boys of yours are coming." Solomon placed a phantom hand on Jim's head.

"Caleb?" realization dawned on Jim that it was entirely possible that Caleb could have had a vision of his accident. Then that realization turned to sorrow at the thought of the young man again witnessing someone he cared about being hurt.

Solomon nodded at the name of the younger hunter, "Yes, Caleb and Dean are on their way, so you better hold on for those boys, you know what you mean to them, what this would do to them." Jim closed his eyes at the thought of what this was doing to Caleb, to have seen his accident, but to know the guilt both of the boys would feel if they didn't reach him in time, he knew it could possibly destroy the boys and thus the future of the Brotherhood. "You've always been stronger than you thought, hold on to that strength." the voice faded out as the Pastor opened his eyes to find himself alone again.

"Solomon?" Jim whispered, again feeling alone and if he would admit it, scared. However, Solomon and Emma both had always told him he was stronger than he believed himself to be, so again as darkness started to encroach his vision his thought turned to Caleb and Dean. The two he knew were coming for him and with his last conscious thought he whispered, "I'll hold on."

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"Jim?" Caleb startled as Jim's voice filled his mind.

The panic filled voice of Dean filtered into the echo of Jim's words, "What? Damien, What?"

Caleb rubbed his hands roughly across his face as he turned to face his friend, "We need to hurry, Deuce."

Swallowing hard as he refocused on the road Dean whispered, "He's not…you didn't loose the connection did you?"

Looking back out the window at the passing scenery, in the fading light, Caleb answered. "No, he said he'd hold on."