The Way Home
Chapter 2
Disclaimer: See chapter 1

"JOHN! Augh…" Caleb's shout turned to a pained groan as awareness slowly returned to him, his body felt heavy and breathing hurt. Slowly lifting one of his hands toward his face, Caleb attempted to blink is eyes open, quickly closing them again as the fading light shot another pain through his pounding skull. Once his fingers came into contact with his forehead he felt a warm, wet stickiness that his sense of smell soon told him was blood. "Shit…" He again mumbled, attempting to open his eyes a second time. This time he was able to keep them open, focusing on the busted windshield in front of him. Slowly raising his head he saw why his window was busted, a couple of good size trees took the liberty of stopping his runaway Jeep once the vision hit, rendering him completely useless to control the vehicle.

Leaning his head back some, Caleb tried to take a deep-breath only to be stopped by a pain in his left side. "Damn cracked ribs", he mumbled as he looked down at himself, lifting each arm to make sure they still worked. "Okay man, think…" This time he took a slower breath, the pain not as bad, but still there. In that moment the clarity of his vision came back, "God, Johnny…" shifting Caleb reached for the handle of the driver's door, leaning his aching body into it; he was finally able to open it. Though his heart was yelling at him to hurry up and get out of the wrecked vehicle, his brain shouted just as loud to go slow and make sure his legs were still working. Gently moving one of his legs, then the other Caleb used the door and side of the Jeep to slowly stand, dizziness caused him to shut his eye's, swallowing hard to keep what he had eaten that morning down.

Realizing he could stand he took a tentative step, still using the vehicle for support. Finally making it to the back of his Jeep he noticed he was about twenty-yards off the road. Again the pain, not only from his own injuries, but from the helpless feeling of watching John's body tumble down the embankment coming to rest, deathly still, at its base, flared through his body. As that imagine took up residence in his mind a sudden rush of adrenaline surged through his veins, an overwhelming need to get to Jim's dulling his own pains from his accident and weakness the vision brought. Letting go of the Jeep Caleb stumbled toward the road, somewhere in the back of his mind he knew he was only about two miles from Jim's, a distance that on a normal day wouldn't take anytime to cover, not with John as his drill sergeant, but today he knew he would have to push himself through the pain and weakness in order to save the older man.

oxoxoxoxoxo

Awareness returned slowly, followed quickly by a coughing fit that shot pain through his chest when he tried to curl in on himself, as the spell passed John could feel the hitch in his chest. Slowly opening his eye's he found himself laying on his left side, a rock sticking out of the ground just inches from his face. Reaching his hand up he touched his forehead, where the pain in his head seemed to be centering, wincing as his fingers came in contact with the sticky, wetness. John tried to remember what had happened; only the memory of that first misstep came to him, then nothing. Laying there a moment, the older man tried to take inventory of his injuries; the pain in his chest wasn't just from the cold trying to take root, but from a couple of busted ribs, with the way his head was pounding he knew there was definitely a concussion.

Slowly the Knight brought his right arm around, grateful to still have the use of it, and placed his hand on the ground, attempting to push himself up. Another problem arose when he tried to extend his left arm to take some of his weight, it crumpled under him as he screamed out in pain, his shoulder again making contact with the ground, "Damnit!" he yelled, his busted arm and shoulder shooting pain through the core of his body, his vision wavering as the pain took all awareness, though he tried to fight it, the darkness overtook him again.

oxoxoxoxoxo

It felt like he had been walking for hours, the sun was slowly setting, the chill of the coming October night biting through his jacket, but he continued on. The image of John lying motionless was still burned into Caleb's mind, pushing him forward. Rounding a small curve in the road the familiar looking mailbox came into view, the name MURPHY fading on the side. Seeing his destination in sight shot another burst of energy through the young man that he didn't know he had. "Just a little further, Johnny, we'll get ya." Caleb mumbled as he finally stumbled onto the gravel drive, dropping to one knee when his strength began to give out. "Come on man, get your sorry ass up and get John some help." The injured man berated himself, again the thought of his mentor fueling the last reserves of energy, pushing himself up he continued his unsteady movement forward, the lights of the house finally coming into view.

oxoxoxoxoxo

It was the sound of Scout barking that drew Dean's attention, he had been by the pond for hours, it was the only place he could find peace. It seemed like he had been mad at the world for the last few weeks, first he hadn't been able to see Caleb since June. Between moving from hunt to hunt and his best friend graduating college and doing God know what since, he had only been able to talk to the older man a couple times, both times short conversations once the twenty-two year old knew Dean was okay. Then Sammy had started his whole teenage angst two years too early, the kid's mood swings rivaled their fathers as the two had started to argue about everything. Then speaking of Dad, John had ditched them at Jim's on his way to Bobby's, sighting that he didn't even know if it was a real hunt or just some kids starting stories, so there was no sense in dragging the boys when they were gonna be back at Jim's in a few days anyway. However, Dean had picked up on the fact John needed some time away from Sammy before he pummeled the kid, which meant Dean had to sit out the hunt to keep an eye on his kid brother.

Sam had been exceptionally whinny throughout the day, complaining about nearly everything, so Dean had left his brother complaining in Jim's library, Jim and Mac had been in the Hunter's Tomb doing research, so the fifteen year old had taken it upon himself to sneak out to the pond. Jim had just been on the back porch yelling to tell Dean dinner would be ready soon. As the young man stood, starting toward the house in the fading light, it was then Scout started her incessant barking. Nearing the porch Dean looked down the driveway, in the shadowed light he thought he saw movement, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up. He knew Jim's place was protected from anything supernatural, but that didn't rule out all the dangers that could come for the Guardian.

Dean again saw movement, not normally worried if he could handle a threat the young boy didn't want to take any chances, especially since he wasn't armed. He stepped closer to the door, "Jim, could you come here a second?"

Keeping his attention on the driveway, Dean heard the screen door open and close behind him. "What it is my boy?" Jim noticed that the teenager wasn't looked at him, but seemed to be watching something further down his drive. "Dean?"

"There…" Dean pointed toward the shadowed darkness, "Did you see it? Something or someone's coming this way down the drive." Jim noticed the boy step closer to the wood pile, grabbing the ax from its spot next to the stump.

Jim looked closer in the direction the boy had pointed, finally seeing movement. Quickly Jim opened the back door, grabbing the rifle that normally sat just inside the door. Mac caught Jim retrieving the weapon as he entered the kitchen, Sammy close behind, "Jim?" The Doctor put his hand out to stop Sammy's forward movement.

Glancing quickly to the Scholar, Jim spoke before he let the door close, "Keep Sammy inside." Jim didn't know what was going on, but he wasn't going to risk both boys.

"Mac, what's going on?" Sammy whispered, years of being around hunters had taught him to keep his voice low when an unknown threat could be present.

"I don't know Sammy, but be ready to move." Mac stepped closer to the door, stopping next to the deep-freeze, grabbing the shotgun that was kept between it and the wall.

Outside, Dean was moving closer to the dark shape as it continued to stumble forward, "Dean, slow down." Jim whispered loudly as the teen continued to move closer, the Pastor several yards behind him.

Dean stopped as the shadow cleared the tree line, its features still shrouded in the waning light, but it was the instant recognition when the person's face finally lifted and looked toward the house that had Dean dropping the ax, taking off in a dead run, "CALEB!"