Vision
Chapter 2
Disclaimer: see chapter 1
"Dad?" Caleb grabbed the ringing phone as Moose tried to help him up onto the bed, his legs still feeling weak from exhaustion that came with the vision.
"Caleb?" It was Jim's calm voice that the young psychic heard, but it did nothing to ease the knot that was currently twisting his stomach.
Caleb felt his mouth go dry and his world spin again at the implication of why Jim would be calling him in the middle of the night, "Where is he?"
"How?" Jim sounded a little stunned.
"Damn it Jim, you know how, where the hell is Mac?" Caleb could feel the adrenaline coursing through his veins, giving him a burst of energy as he straightened himself. Moose watching his friend closely at the sudden change in his demeanor and his asking about his dad.
"He's at University in Louisville, Jonathon's with him…" Jim was cut off by the younger man.
"What the hell happened?" Caleb stood ready to start grabbing his stuff and head toward Kentucky. Caleb knew what happened, had watched it happen, what he wanted were details.
"All Jonathon could tell me was that your father was shot and that he's in surgery now." Jim continued to speak calmly, but Caleb could pick up on the man's worried emotion.
"I'm leaving now, you have the number to the phone Mac had installed in my Jeep, you keep me updated." Caleb barely noticed the surprised look on his roommates face at the sound of him saying he was leaving.
"I will Son; I'm heading to Louisville now. Please Caleb, be careful." Without a response Caleb hung up and started grabbing his things.
Moose watched his friend, who he had just found a few minutes before, almost incoherent, now gathering his things, telling who ever it was on the phone that he was leaving. "Whoa, dude, I just found you out of it and now you think you should be driving somewhere?" Moose made the mistake of stepping in front of Caleb, when he felt the smaller man give him a rough shove.
"Get the hell out of my Moose; I've got to go, NOW!" Caleb sat to put his boots on.
The football player crossed his arms, glaring at his friend, "What's going on? Where are you going?"
"Louisville," Caleb stood, grabbing his jacket and duffle, "my Dad's been shot." With that Caleb left Moose watching the door slam shut with a shocked expression on his face.
Racing toward the parking lot Caleb threw his things in the back of his Jeep and jumped in, slamming the door. As he turned over the engine what Jim said and what he had witnessed in his vision suddenly hit him full force, he was barely able to get the door open fast enough as he emptied the contents of his stomach all over the concrete next to his vehicle.
That's where Moose found him, a death grip on the door so he wouldn't fall into his own vomit. "Come on man, other side, I'll drive." Getting a shaking Caleb settled into the passenger side of the Jeep, Moose stepped over last night's dinner, backing the vehicle from its spot, then he headed toward the interstate, to get his friend to Louisville.
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Jim had no choice but to bring twelve-year old Dean and eight-year old Sammy with him on the drive to Louisville. Both boys had been woken by the Pastor's phone ringing in the night, each knowing that good news rarely came from late night phone calls. Dean, with Sammy at his side had watched as Jim paled at what he was told by the caller, the older man sitting heavily on the side of his bed, where he had been when the call came.
The Preacher had told them that Mac was hurt and that they had to get dressed because they needed to get to Louisville. Dean lingered outside Jim's door as he listened to the older man call Caleb, Dean's chest clinched as he heard Jim tell Caleb that Mac had been shot. That was his best friends worst fear, losing another person he cared about, he loved. Now they were pulling into the parking garage of University, praying Mac was okay.
Jim and the boys entered the emergency room, the older man approaching the desk, "Mackland Ames, he was brought in a while ago, can you tell me where he is? Is he still in surgery?"
The Pastor and nurse were both startled by Sammy's yelling, "DAD!" as the smaller boy slipped from Dean's hold, racing toward his father who was standing near the elevators, talking to a policeman.
Kneeling John pulled his son into a hug as he watched his oldest give him a critical look, Jim following the boys rather than waiting for the nurse. "Jonathon?"
The officer looked at the new arrivals, then turned back to John. "If I have any other questions will I be able to find you here?"
John nodded as he stood, "I'm not going anywhere." with that the officer excused himself leaving the younger man to face his family.
Hitting the button for the lift, rougher than intended, John wouldn't meet Jim's gaze. Once the four entered the car and the doors closed Jim broke the tense silence. "Are you going to tell me what happened?"
Running his hand over his stubbled face, Jim could tell the young hunter was feeling the effects of not only the hangover, but the fallout of what had happened to Mac. Blowing out a deep breath he started, "I was drinking and trying to hustle at the same time, Mac found me and drug me out of the bar before the game was finished, the guy I was playing wasn't too happy." Anger flashed in John's face as he turned to look at Jim, seeming to forget his son's were in the elevator with them. "By the way, how the hell did Mac know where I was anyway?"
Jim didn't flinch under the scrutiny, "I had him follow you, just like I have done for the last seven years. I can't have you locked up or worse yet, dead because you feel it necessary to drink yourself blind every year." Jim's voice had remained calm, but inside he was seething, he knew what it was like to love someone so much that you wanted to die, just to be with them. But year after year it was Jim that watched the effect on the Winchester children at their father's selfishness.
John moved faster than Jim would have given him credit for as the Pastor found himself pinned against the wall of the elevator, "Who the hell do you think you are trying to tell me what to do?" John spit out.
Without a note of fear in his voice Jim held his composure. "I'm the one who has to explain to your children every year why their father disappears for days at a time and they know you're not on a hunt."
Dean had watched the situation inside the lift escalate, culminating with his father shoving the Pastor against the wall. Making sure Sammy was out of the way, the twelve-year old attempted to step between his father and the man he saw as an Uncle. "DAD!" Dean grabbed his father's arm, trying to get him to release Jim, "That's enough, let him go!"
It was the older boy's voice that broke through the rage John was feeling, not only toward the Preacher for throwing what he chose to do back in his face, but the anger at himself for Mac getting hurt because of it. Dean felt his father release Jim and watched at he stepped back, running his hand over his face. Jim straightening himself, placing a supportive hand on Dean's shoulder, at that moment the elevator doors opened onto the sixth floor.
