Chapter 6

Waiting for answers was nearly impossible for Caleb. He understood that CPS had to conduct their investigation and submit their findings into evidence for a court hearing, but he was not ready to face the music. The boys would have Jim and Bobby if something happened to him, but he was desperate to stop that scenario from playing out. It had been days since CPS came to his house and spoke with the boys.

At least Jim was not being charged with a crime after Dawn got the story from someone within the CPS office. Having that ray of hope made the prospect of going to jail, not that scary when he factored in the safety of the boys if something happened. Being accused of a crime he did not commit, was not an easy burden to bear when he had been accused of crimes he did not have a part in. Hoping that it would go away before too long, he paced the length of the living room floor.

He had a call-in to Dawn at her office, but had not heard back from her. Busying his mind was pointless when it was far too rattled to be productive. Resting his eyes on their big case, he peered at the pictures of the victims of the suspected werewolf. Jim had taken Sam and Dean to investigate at the medical examiner's and police department, but had not heard anything back so far.

That was not a problem itself when he knew how long those investigations took. Not being part of the excitement was what Caleb found hard to bear. Landing on the sofa while he tried to contain the part of him that longed to escape from the pressing reality of being investigated, he looked toward the door when the shrill doorbell resounded through his ears.

Hoping it was not someone arriving to slam more bad news on his his already fractured heart, he took his time answering it. When he saw Dawn's face, he both relaxed and tensed in tandem. She would never show up unannounced unless there was something wrong. With that thought holding him captive, he threw her a tight smile before stepping aside to let her in. Giving her a hug, he led the way into the kitchen where a cup of coffee was brewing.

Not bothering to speak when he could feel something wrong with the way she was acting, he took his time getting everything ready. Taking a soothing sip of the caffeine, he handed a mug to Dawn. She took it without a word, and slowly sipped it while she regarded the look on her friend's face.

"So what's happening?" Caleb asked with a sigh, when she did not bother to speak.

"The investigation is still on-going. As you know, Miranda Baker spoke with the boys yesterday."

"I know."

"And now," Dawn said carefully. "A prosecutor wants to meet with you."

"Only me?" Even though Dawn had effectively shut the door on Jim being prosecuted, there was part of him that was still on edge about that happening.

"That's right."

"What does a prosecutor want?"

Having a prosecutor want to interview him was very bad. It communicated to him that CPS was serious about the claims they were making, and were intent on seeing them through. In order to achieve that, they had turned to the highest power in town to help them.

After the hell he had gone through in the past with his various trials for perceived crimes, he was quite sure he would be happy if he never saw another one of those people again. He did not have anything against prosecutors, but only the ones who seemed to push an agenda to see him pay for something he did not do.

"He wants to meet with you before the hearing."

That was news to him. "What hearing?"

Dawn's eyes softened in sympathy for him; it did nothing to make him feel better. "CPS feels like they have enough evidence to go before a judge to see if the judge would be willing to impose restrictions on you. If not restrictions, they're asking for you to be arrested."

Caleb felt sick as he listened to her words. In the back of his mind, he knew that was coming when the lady had seemed so intent on pushing the case forward. What made him feel slightly better was that the prosecution was not asking for the boys to be removed. What they wanted was bad, but not as bad as he originally believed.

Even with a small shred of relief flowing through him, the rational part of his mind nudged him to consider that if the hearing progressed in the favor of the prosecution, he would be at the mercy of a judge who may or may not choose in favor of the people going against him.

"What 'restrictions' will they be imposing?"

"After they processed the interviews they conducted with Sam and Dean, they made a recommendation in their report that if you are not charged at this hearing, that you not be allowed to see the boys without supervision. They feel like the bruise marks are enough to warrant this."

"What about Sam?"

"He has marks, too. Not serious ones, but ones that CPS photographed when they initially showed up at the school."

Swiping a hand through his eyes to stop the influx of tears from appearing at the amount of shock going through him, he numbly accepted the file Dawn slid across the table to him. He could not remember a time where Sam had been injured in a hunt before, but he was sure he would find out. Staring at the photographs of his arm, he could see red and purple marks that were already fading.

As he studied the pictures, he remembered the time when those had occurred. Unfortunately, that happened to be one of the few times where he had actually been guilty of grabbing one of the boys. What CPS did not know, was that he and Sam had been in the middle of a heated training session when he taught Sam an advanced move that left a mark on his arm.

"I was doing a workout with Sammy. It got intense, and I was trying to teach him a move, and to do it I had to get physical. Not to hurt him, but to teach him."

Dawn nodded. "I can understand that."

"But will this prosecutor?"

Having her understanding and support meant a lot to him, but it was the prosecutor who would be the deciding factor for if his story could be believed or not. Looking back on that training session, he knew he could not have done anything different when he recognized how careful he was. At the time, it had not even crossed his mind that it could come back to haunt him months later.

"That's the question that will need to be answered."

"When is this hearing?"

"Tomorrow morning—the prosecutor wants to meet this afternoon."

"Do I do it?"

The thought of opening himself up to interrogation at their office was off-putting to him. The prosecutor would want answers from him, and his only hope was that he would be able to handle the questions and not get defensive like he had with the woman who came there.

"I don't think you have a choice," Dawn replied. "What you have to remember, is to keep a steady head through this meeting. You cannot give him a reason to believe what CPS is telling him."

"Alright."

Caleb was confident in his ability to withstand the pressure of talking with the man at the DA's office, but he knew that might very well change when he was sitting in a room with him. Once Dawn left after finishing their meeting, he tried not to think of the worst thing happening. With the way his luck seemed to be abandoning him, he held no compunctions that he would face retribution from the prosecution.

The only question he had was how bad it would be.

Would he be let off with leniency? Or would the judge take one look at the marks on Sam and Dean, and decide that he needed to be charged? Those questions ran through his mind on a loop while he waited for the boys to return from town. The meeting with the prosecutor was that afternoon, and he had no clue how he was supposed to prepare for it.

Dawn had given him a few hours to prepare. In that time, he knew he would have to come up with a convincing story for what happened with the marks. With Sam's arm, he felt comfortable admitting the truth to him. He was working out with Sam, and it got rough. There was no intention of causing harm, and he prayed the prosecutor would acknowledge that.

Looking at the clock once the hours slipped by him, he sighed deeply as he prepared to do the very last thing he wanted. Getting in his car, he wondered how the investigation was proceeding. If fate happened to be on Jim's side, he would already be heading to the station to gather the last few facts. Turning onto the street, he hoped the meeting went okay with this prosecutor.

Striding into the prosecutor's spacious office, Caleb tried to let go of the claustrophobic feeling he got from the place. It was as much a result of his nerves as it was his fear of something happening. Taking a seat with Dawn, he he shot her a look before the door opened behind them to admit the prosecutor. The man was young, early to mid thirties. Even though everything about this man was meant to be welcoming, Caleb was not buying the act.

Standing up to shake his hand, he tried to think of this person as someone who was trying to help the boys. Anyone who had the boys' best interests in mind, was automatically someone Caleb tried to get along with. Realizing how hard it was for him to adapt the same feelings toward this prosecutor, he kept a sharp eye on his tongue and manners while he sat back down. Ignoring the warning look Dawn passed to him, he remembered her warning before they walked into the office.

If he said (or did) anything to garner the attention of the prosecutor, their case would already be decided. As it was, this man wanted to meet with him to give him the chance to explain his part of it. For that, Caleb found it hard to find fault with someone who was being fair about the whole procedure. Adjusting his stance in the chair, he fought to contain the nausea that was coursing through his system.

"Thank you for meeting with me," Shawn Williamson began.

"No problem," Caleb replied stiffly.

"I have a feeling," Shawn continued, writing something down in his papers. "That you know what this pertains to."

"I do."

How could he not when the case had been on the forefront of his mind since its inception? Being investigated (and possibly charged with a litany of crimes), had been the entire reason why he failed to get the sleep he needed the last several nights.

"Basically I want to hear your side of this whole mess. I want you to, in essence, take me through all of these allegations and connect them for me so I have a way of ascertaining what needs to happen going forward."

"I don't know what to say," Caleb began. "I can tell you that I can explain the absences from school, and I can also fill in the gaps for those bruises on the boys."

Caleb's statement seemed to ignite something within the prosecutor. Searching his mind for the reason why that would be, he remembered Dawn telling him that this man had lost his daughter two years previously. Anyone who lost a child, would be bound to experience issues as a result of that. Sympathy raged within Caleb as he placed himself in the shoes of that man.

"Let's start with the bruises. How did Dean sustain the mark on his arm?"

To his credit, the man was not being accusatory, but rather conversational, as though they were discussing the evening news or the weather. As much as Caleb did not want to be there, he was willing to work with anyone who gave him respect.

"He was messing around with his friends, and fell on the ice."

Shawn nodded. "What were they doing?"

"Just being boys. They were playing some sport or another. I think it was hockey. Dean has a friend who plays hockey."

"Then he fell?"

"Yes."

Caleb watched while Shawn wrote something down in his papers. He longed to be able to understand what he was writing, and what his thoughts were on this meeting. Not being able to be in control of the meeting, was a very strange feeling for someone who was used to control.

"When did this happen? If you're not sure, just give me an estimation."

"I think it was around the first or second week of November."

That was right after Bill Harvelle died, and they went on the spirit hunt after returning home from Nebraska. At the time of the attack, Caleb thought nothing would happen after it. He treated Dean's arm like he knew he should have, and kept a close eye on it for the next few weeks. When his arm showed signs of improvement, he felt satisfied enough to send him back to school.

"Why was Dean not taken to a doctor when this happened?"

"Because I was not aware of this injury for a very long time. It was right before your office called that I finally saw it for myself. If I had been aware of it beforehand? That would have been different."

For the first time since he began the meeting with the prosecutor, he was aware of a tone in his voice that alerted him to the fact this man was starting to suspect something. Attempting to keep a level head through the rest of the conversation, he waited while Shawn wrote something else down.

"Okay, and what about Sam? When CPS came to his school, they also noticed a mark on his arm. This mark is actually very critical to the investigation. More so, if possible, than Dean's is. I want to show you what I notice right away."

Ignoring the erratic pounding of his heart while Shawn reached into his desk drawer for a file he assumed contained a photo of the picture he already saw, he exchanged looks with Dawn before he focused on the file. Reaching for it when Shawn slid it across his desk, he opened it to the first page and saw the photo. Sam's arm was spread over a table, and a crude light shone on it.

From appearances alone, it would look like someone had inflicted those bruises on him. While that was true, Caleb had no idea if he should be honest about it or not. Looking at Dawn for a silent meeting, he saw her discreetly nod her head in the affirmative.

"I can explain this-"

"What this is," Shawn interjected. "Is a hand mark on his bicep."

"I can see that," Caleb said, feeling sick. "I was working out with him-"

"Working out?"

"Both boys do various workout routines. I was training Sam, and it got intense. I grabbed him to show him a maneuver that can only be taught by demonstration. I was demonstrating it, and he ended up with the bruise."

"Did you stop to consider that maybe a workout that extreme may not be appropriate for someone that young?"

"It crossed my mind," Caleb admitted. "But I know these kids better than anyone, and I know what their limit is."

That explanation did not sit well with the prosecutor. Giving him a look that was unreadable to the hunter, he produced another document that he slid across to him. Opening it, he saw a statement from a man who he assumed was a doctor. Reading the notes the man carefully prepared, he tried not to feel the anger that was bursting to come forth.

According to the report, the marks should have been seen by a doctor. Caleb had heard that so many times it was starting to become infused in his mind. No matter what those people thought, he knew more than they ever would.

"The bruise marks on both boys," Shawn continued. "Are serious enough that they warranted the attention of Principal Woodward at their school. He believes they should have been accounted for. We consulted a doctor who works with different Family Services offices, and his determination is that Dean and Sam should have been looked at."

"I'm sorry," Caleb said, not knowing what else to say. "I screwed that up. My bad. It won't happen again-"

"The fact," Shawn said, talking over Caleb. "Is that we have had several of these instances. That alone is troubling, but then we have your criminal record-"

"We are not here to discuss anything that happened in the past," Dawn said, immediately jumping into the talk. "Please keep to the facts of this case."

"Very well—based on past times, and the amount of absences that were documented, it is our contention that we have enough to go forward with our case."

This was what Caleb had been terrified of—the thought of being subjected to criminal prosecution for something that he did not even do. The thought of being labeled as a child abuser was nauseating to him and everyone who knew him.

"Those absences can be explained-"

"I believe you or one of the boys said they were sick? We need more proof other than a verbal say-so from you. If you cannot provide that, we count it as part of our evidence, and it will be used as part of our proceedings. Right now, the charges that will be pushed at this hearing tomorrow, will be two counts of first degree abuse of a child. And one count of child neglect."

The morning of the crucial hearing finally dawned. Caleb could not have felt sicker as he alternated between sitting on the bench outside the courtroom, and pacing the floor outside. After the long night he had of trying his best to get some sleep after the meeting with the prosecutor, he had gone into court with eyes that looked like they had seen better days, and a depleted spirit. It was horrifying to imagine that it all came down to this one hearing.

If a judge agreed with the stipulations CPS was proposing, he would either walk out of the courtroom a free man, or have to agree to supervised visits with the boys while the rest of the investigation went forward. As he rested his head in his hands, he could not imagine which alternative would be worse. If the judge thought he was dangerous enough to warrant a monitor witnessing their visits, he could only imagine how traumatic that would be for the boys.

The judge also had the option of sending him to jail while the case proceeded. In many ways, that would also be one of the worst outcomes he could dream of. There was no part of him that desired having a monitor watch him with the boys, but it would be preferable to sitting in a cell all day long.

It was the worst possible timing for this case to be happening—YED was still out there—and if the boys were compromised by having one less guardian around them, they would be vulnerable. Caleb knew enough about the demon to know that it would feed upon their weakness. Whatever game it was planning next, would be magnified.

The night before had gone about as well as he could have hoped. The boys came back from a long day investigating the case. According to the police file Dean passed to him the instant he walked in the door, their prime suspect was a young teenager who looked to be about a year older than Dean was. The boy had gotten into multiple scrapes with the law, and had recently been released from juvenile detention.

What made him their prime target was his suspicious appearance near every one of the crime scenes. The police did not have enough to arrest him, but were waiting on forensics. Forensics only meant so much to a hunter who was desperate to save the lives of innocent people. For that reason, Dean and Jim were planning a trip to his apartment complex the next night. The night of a full moon.

Standing up when someone announced that their case was being called, he tried to ignore the insane pounding of his heart as he walked in behind Dawn. As usual, his attorney was the epitome of calm as she took her place at the defense table. Caleb took his place beside her, inhaling a deep breath as he tried to project only positive images for the morning.

"Try to breathe," Dawn reminded him. "We got this."

Caleb nodded, not completely sure how possible it was to be that calm. "Thanks."

"This will not be that bad," Dawn whispered. "The judge wants to make sure the boys are not in any danger-"

"What if he thinks they are?"

"Then-"

They did not have the chance to talk further when the hearing started.

Sitting back in his seat, he watched as a representative for CPS got up first to present their case. Courtroom politics dictated that the state got to go first. Wishing that it was Dawn who could make the first impression, he settled for watching the man as he walked up to the podium. He wasted no time displaying the photographs of Sam and Dean's bruises for the judge to see.

Fighting to control his reaction was a pointless endeavor when it was their family who was being put on the line. The last thing the boys needed in their lives, was another upheaval.

"You can see," the man said, pacing dramatically. "There is a consistent pattern of injuries. The only thing that changes, is the severity of them. One bruise looks alarmingly innocent, while the others only appear to get worse."

Caleb could understand what he was getting at. The abuse did not happen overnight, but over a steady period of time that was now being used to implicate him in this crime. Shaking his head in disbelief, he heeded the look of warning Dawn gave him and fell quiet.

After that, Dr. Almer, the doctor who examined the photographs, took the stand. He was a quiet man but seemed impassioned about the job he was in. Doing his best to listen to him, he wondered what his thoughts would be on these pictures.

"Is it your opinion," the man said. "That this bruise is consistent with being grabbed or punched?"

"Yes," Dr. Almer said, leaning forward to speak into the microphone.

Caleb could not filter the groan that came from him, as he shook his head in utter disbelief and fury.

"And is it your contention that a mark like that should have been seen by a doctor?"

"Yes."

"When you look at the bruising and discoloration of the bruises, what is your first reaction?"

"That the placement of the bruises indicates that the force had to be pretty powerful for it to make an impact like that."

"Those kinds of bruises can only be inflicted by a punch or a hit?"

"Correct."

After that, came the issue of absences. That in itself was not a huge issue, and so the man did not spend time going over the specifics, only that it indicated other factors. Especially Dean's behavior when he was in class, and how tired he had seemed to the teachers, which according to a psychologist they put on the stand, could be indicators of trauma.

Keeping a collected mind through the lies that were being sprung abut him, took an almost inhuman effort on his part. To him, there was no way that a judge could believe what they were saying, when only he could see the love he had for the boys.

Caleb was relieved when Dawn got her chance to speak once he was done.

"In regards to the absences," she began, "I cannot attest for what happened four or five months ago, but the recent ones, the ones that counsel is making such a fuss about, are because, and this is included in the police report," she added. "Sam was taken from school on a field trip. Of course it would be understandable that they would need a little break."

Dawn's words always managed to put Caleb at peace, and he tried to feel some of that now. With her fearless ability to command the attention of the courtroom, he hoped that would be enough to sway a judge to listen to what she was trying to say. The nervousness he felt was overpowering, but something he had no control over.

"And in regards to the marks on his arm: I never received any indication from speaking with Dean, or my client, or even my own experts that I spoke with privately, that this was anything serious. In fact, if I recall correctly, Mrs. Ward said that when she was speaking with Dean, she saw him move that arm quite effortlessly, and that certainly wouldn't be the case if it was as bad as the state was making it to be."

Caleb knew she had a point, but that wouldn't erase any abuse claims, just the ludicrous ones that claimed that his arm had been broken. He wasn't off the hook, far from it, as he tried to keep his breathing under control so he wouldn't lose it. His heart was hammering painfully in his chest, and he knew that it was a direct result of the fear that he had of losing the boys, of seeing them taken from him. He couldn't imagine anything worse for either the boys or him.

After her testimony was done, it was purely up to the discretion of the judge, after a few parting words from the CPS worker, who hammered it into the judge's mind that his past actions showed intent, that his criminal history showed probable cause that he was capable of abuse, and that the boys' welfare mattered above any shadow of a doubt.

"I have a certain leeway when it concerns what I can impose at this time," the judge started. "I can decide that it would be best if Mr. Rivers is remanded into custody with the evidence that we have. Or I can go another way, and impose supervised visitation until the case is resolved.

It is not my wish to be hasty with making any decision in this case. Certainly not one that could impact the life of the defendant before all the facts have been released. With that said, I feel that there is enough evidence to terminate Mr. River's custodial rights. He will be allowed, however, to see the children with a court-appointed monitor present. He has until tonight to make appropriate arrangements for his living situation. If he (or the children) do not find an alternative by five 'o clock, than our court has the option of lawfully removing them until the conclusion of this case."

'Appropriate arrangements' meaning that he had a certain period of time to either get out of the house he had lived in for the past several years, or send the boys somewhere else. Or he could do something totally different, and elect not to follow any of their rules and lay low until the court case was behind him. Either option only presented a tidal pool of pain and confusion upon all of them.

Aware of what was at stake if he refused the order, he stood with Dawn and quietly left the courtroom. If nothing else, he wanted to be with the boys for what might be his last night with them before everything changed. If he did not follow the edict, he would be arrested and sent to lockup until the conclusion of the case. As it was, he had been lucky to avoid arrest at the hearing.

Wishing the judge had the facts to the case before he made a ruling like that, he followed Dawn.

Teaser for the foreseeable future of this story: Something happens to one of the Winchesters (and I include the guys when I say "Winchesters). This may or may not change their life forever. More legal problems for Caleb and maybe a demon problem? Beyond that, family and love that is the reason I wrote this verse in the first place.