Warnings: SECRETS

Pairings: John/Mary, Caleb/Mary if that's what you want to believe

11

Dean had known Caleb for as long as he could remember. He understood that Caleb had been weird longer than that. Dad had always just shrugged and mumbled something about hippies. Mom had always smiled sweetly and just said he was an old friend of her family's. It's just the way it was. Caleb would come over, Dad would go to the garage to tinker, and sometimes Dean would follow him when it got too weird. Caleb and Mom would go in the back room and talk. Sometimes loud, sometimes soft. Sometimes Mom and Dad would fight. Dad would leave for a few days, then he'd come back and it would be like nothing ever happened.

Caleb only came once or twice a year. Still. His visits were memorable. Drinking beer with Dad in the kitchen while Mom cooked. Showing off scars from camping and hunting. Maybe once or twice, Dean saw Caleb standing really close to Mom while Dad was in the bathroom. Touching her hair, her arm.

There were signs. They were all weird.

Maybe Dad had seen them. Maybe he hadn't.

The day Dean came home from junior high and the cops were at his house was the most memorable one. Dad was cuffed in the back of the squad car. His face was bruised and bleeding. Caleb was cuffed on the hood of the same car and he looked the same. Mom was crying on the front steps as she talked to the cops. Dean had rode his bike into the yard and just stared at them all. Mom's hair everywhere. Caleb's shirt off. Dad's shirt torn. Listened to his mother telling the tale.

"He's harmless." She insisted. "Caleb Bailey is the son of my father's friend. All our folks are gone. I've always known him. He's like a little brother. It was a misunderstanding."

"Ma'am, your husband is pretty damn sure that this fellow tried to kill you." The cop pointed to each man in turn where they sat in or on the cop car.

"He didn't. They're just old tea leaves that we've been taught to drink since we were kids. It's not poison. I've been trained to tell the difference, John hasn't. Nor formally like Caleb and I. He's not normally violent. I can see how it might have looked. He's a good man. They're both good men. Things got out of hand." She insisted, her arms wrapped around her stomach. "John has a temper but never with me. It was a misunderstanding."

"Mom?" Dean finally spoke up.

"Dean, sweetie. It's okay." She reached for him and he saw the bruises on her wrists. "It's all okay. You go on in the house. We'll order dinner in, tonight."

Dean went inside and watched from the window as his mother kept talking. Could see his father fuming in the back of the cop car. Caleb sitting up on the hood like he wasn't in custody. He got his homework kind of done while he waited for his mother to convince everyone that no one needed to be taken in.

They let Dad go first. He walked straight into the house. He looked at Dean and sighed. "I'm sorry, kid." Dean shrugged. Dad kissed his head, ruffled his hair and began cleaning up the mess in the living room. A while later, Caleb walked in and went straight the back room to put on a shirt. Mom walked in a bit later. She was having words with the neighbor who had called the cops. When she walked inside the house, she kissed Dean's head and walked upstairs to get changed.

Dean was finishing his homework after dinner when Dad went to the garage to tinker with the radio turned up and a six pack. Dean had to shut the kitchen door to block out the noise. That's when he heard the whispers. He stepped into the hallway. The back room was Caleb's room when he stayed over. No one else ever stayed in there. Mom would go in there even when Caleb wasn't visiting but she always kept the door closed. Far as he knew, his father never even went in to check if the windows were locked like he did with the rest of the house every night. That was Caleb's room and always had been. For longer than the 12 years Dean had been alive.

"It's not happening." His mother's voice.

"They said it would. That it would be you." Caleb's voice rose.

"There's just so much that doesn't add up. It doesn't line up, Caleb."

"If you don't get him under control, he's going to ruin you."

"It's… he's jealous, Caleb. You can't blame him."

"The old lady said that it's definitely you and it should have already happened."

"But I only have one son. No daughters. Just one child. It can't be me."

"You been trying?"

"You think I'd actively put my children into that life? This is why he thinks there's something more between us, Caleb. He doesn't know. Dean doesn't know. I don't want them to know. I keep active because you keep coming around. Things follow you. If I'm not on my game, I lose them. I'm not going to lose them."

"You shouldn't have to hide. You wouldn't if you'd just leave with me. He's a monster. Look at your wrists. Why didn't you fight him off?"

"John is a good man. The best… these only happened because you provoked him. You taunt him with this. It's not anything. It's not. It's just not. I didn't want to hurt him. You shouldn't leave your stuff out and you shouldn't walk around my house without a shirt, Caleb. We've talked about this."

"Run me through it again."

She groaned and her voice rose. "The story hasn't changed in 20 years, Caleb. It's the same every time I tell it."

"Just… do it again."

"Okay." Her voice leveled out. "Dad was on a case. There were usual accidents and people were surviving. There were omens. There were… I don't know. Just not right things. Dad went off to hunt it. I was gonna go to chat up the kids. I didn't."

"Why not?"

"John had just come home from overseas. He got discharged. He bought the van. We… christened it that night. I wasn't there when Dad got his plan together. He left. The way he always does. He came home and said that this was deep. It was game changing."

"That's it."

"Yes. That's it. He chased that phantom for weeks. The trail went cold. He gave up. I missed most of that. John and I were shacked up in the van. We didn't see what was going on."

"And nothing?"

"No. Few months later he and Mom took off with your folks. No one saw any of them again."

"How many babies were there?"

She sighed heavily. "A lot, Caleb. A lot."

"How many before Dean?"

"Three. One stillborn. The others I lost at midway."

"And after."

"Six." Her voice caught. "They just won't stay in me. I'm lucky to have him and we're scaring the crap out of my kid. I can't have him in this, Caleb. He's my only baby."

"I love you. I do. I don't think John's right for you. If you can't tell him…"

"No. I'm never telling him. Not this. Not ever."

Dean started when his father's hand landed on his shoulder. He looked up at his dad, who jerked his head to the side and then led him out the garage. They tinkered a bit. John let Dean have a sip of beer. "I'm sorry for how scary things looked when you got home."

"What happened?"

"I don't know." Dad sighed heavily. "Don't go listening when Caleb's here, huh. It'll just make your head hurt and make you grow up too soon."

"How did Grandpa Campbell die?"

"I'm not too sure. He went off with Caleb's folks on some hunting trip. No one made it back. Caleb came to live with me and Mom for a while. Till he turned 18. You came the next year." Dad fiddled with this and that. "He's not had it easy. He's not been good at holding down a job and he comes here in between. He loves your mother a whole bunch. Okay?"

"How come you always come out here when he comes?"

"I don't like him that much. Not his fault. He's just a weird kid. He's harmless." Dad made a face and waved Dean's question off.

"So… why'd you try to kill him, today?"

"I love Mom a whole bunch, too. I didn't understand what I was seeing. I'm okay. It's okay. It won't happen again."

"I don't like him." Dean admitted. "I don't think he loves Mom the way you think he does."

"No? Are you going to enlighten me?"

"I think he loves Mom the way you do and that's why you hit him."

Dad hid a smile but not very well. "Well, the important thing is she doesn't love him that way."

Dean took a breath and took a chance. "How come you guys never had more kids?"

It was a deep breath and a change of tools before he spoke. "We tried." He set the tools down and leaned on the big black car. "Your mom and me… we had some plans. We were gonna run away from home and live in a van and travel. Have a zillion kids." Arms crossed, he fixed his eyes on his shoes. "Then her folks died. Caleb needed a place to stay. Then we had you. We wanted more kids. Your mom… it's been bad luck. Who knows? Maybe someday. We haven't given up."

"Why did you think Caleb was hurting Mom?"

He met Dean's eyes. "Caleb's folks were hippies. Crystals and incense all that crap. You wouldn't know it to look at your Grandpa Campbell but he held with it. They all did. Mom still does, I guess. Mostly only when Caleb comes to visit. I saw him mixing something up last night. Thought I saw him put it in her tea today." He held a hand up. "I was wrong. I apologized to him. I know he'd never hurt your mom."

"What was it?"

"I thought it was… um…" Dad's face turned red but not in the way it did was he was mad. "Let's just say I've heard too many old wives' tales about plants and tea and women. Your mother set me straight."

"How did Mom's hands get… bruised up?" Dean asked carefully.

"I did that. I was trying to take her cup away from her." He inhaled slowly. "I scared her. Rightly so."

"You gonna have to sleep on the couch?"

"No."

"You leaving again?"

"No. Definitely not."

"Okay." Dean sat inside the car and fiddled with the radio. He listened to the radio and to his father fiddle with the engine. He had lain out on the bench seat and started to doze when the door opened.

Mom. "You're a jerk, John Winchester."

"I know it." He sighed heavily. Dean laid still.

"It was devil's weed, not common rue."

"I don't want you drinking anything called devil's weed." Tools clanged as they were tossed aside.

"I'll have you know that devil's weed is an aphrodisiac. Asshole."

"Why is Caleb slipping you Spanish Fly?

"First, Spanish Fly is made from bugs. Second, I knew it was in there."

"What?"

"I had him mix the tea up for me. I haven't been myself. I thought we needed some time… together. I know you're always ready but I'm not. I just wanted to get into the mood… for you…"

"Well, Mrs. Winchester. I'm surprised at you. Seeing a hoodoo priest to get in my pants." He let the joke die. "I know it's been hard. I didn't want to pressure you."

"I'm okay. I'm ready to make love again. I just… I get scared. Every time it happens…"

"I know. I know." He shushed her. "He just… rubs me the wrong way. I mean… who carries bags of things labeled devil's weed?"

"Caleb does. He's very good at what he does. I know… I know you don't hold with it but he helps people. I was almost like him."

"Oh yeah? What happened?"

"I met you. You surly son of a bitch. Come on. We gotta put the kid to bed and try and see if what little of that tea I got will make any difference."

"Dean, you up?" Dad called out.

"Oh my… John, why didn't you tell me in was in here?" Mom buried her face in his chest. Dean sat up and looked at them through the windshield. "Hi, sweetie. Are you okay?" Dean nodded. "Okay. Let's get to bed huh." When he didn't move, she tilted her head at him. "You okay?"

"Yeah."

"Everybody's okay. It's just a misunderstanding." She gave him a smile. "Caleb's leaving tomorrow. Okay?"

"Okay." Dean nodded and slid out of the car. He walked through the house and passed Caleb where he was kneeling on a rug and whispering over bundles of twigs. He stopped before he got to the stairs. "Why do you come here so much?"

"Just looking after your mom." Caleb didn't stop what he was doing. "Do me a favor?"

"Maybe."

"This stuff." He motioned to the mess he had going on the living room floor. "It's important. Your mom doesn't hold with it anymore. I'm trying to keep it together. I'd like to teach it to someone. If not you, someone else close to us." He picked up a bag and showed it to Dean. "You see this. It's called common rue. You see it in the house, you chuck it. It's poison."

Dean frowned at Caleb but looked in the bag. Dried leaves and little yellow flowers. "Looks just like that bag you got over there."

"Good eye but it's not the same." Caleb brought the other bag closer. "See here how these little buds are split in four. And this one has five petals."

"Are those sticker burrs?"

"Yeah. Just like it. They call them goats head fruit when they're still green. Stickers look dangerous but they're safe to eat. Safe to drink in tea." Caleb glanced behind Dean but kept talking urgently. " Just remember this is common rue. It's dangerous. Buds split in four. This is devil's weed. Five petals like your hand. Like the pentagram. It's protection from evil. The sticker burrs look like a goat's head."

"If it's protection from evil, why do they call it devil's weed?"

"Because people are afraid of what they don't understand. Got it?" Caleb took Dean's shoulders in his hands. "I hope you're more like your mom than like your dad. I hope you can try to understand this stuff."

"I think this stuff is weird."

Dean looked at the common rue. "What happens if someone drinks a lot of this stuff?"

"It can make you violently ill." Caleb let go of him and began arranging the bags in his pack.

"And if you drink a little bit, every once in a while?" Dean pressed.

"Um…" Caleb stared at the bag as he recited the symptoms. "Stomach cramps... the girl kind. Kind of makes things… come out."

"What?" Dean frowned.

"You taken sex ed, yet?"

"Yeah… oh. Like man stuff or baby stuff?" Dean made a face and handed the bag back.

"The second thing."

Dean watched him arrange his pack and glanced back at the garage door where his parents had yet to emerge. He went to the kitchen and pulled a tin out of the cabinet. He looked inside it and took it to Caleb. "I think this should leave with you."

Caleb took the tin and opened it. He sniffed it and held it out to Dean. "Where did you get this?"

"Mom drinks it. Then Mom and Dad get sad. Did you give it to her?"

"No. I gave her the other stuff." Caleb put the lid on the tin and shoved it in his bag. "Your mom is slick. Okay." He pulled a face and glanced back at where the door was shut. "Don't tell her you gave it to me."

"Dad says your folks were hippies."

"Nah." Caleb smiled. "My folks weren't hippies. But they knew a lot about this kind of stuff. They taught it to me. I'm gonna teach it to my kids. If I ever have any."

"My mom loves my dad." Dean stated simply. "Forever."

"I know." Caleb tilted his head at the kid. "You gonna lay the law down?"

"If I have to."

"Well, you don't. I swear it."

"Good. I'm going to bed." Dean paused at the stairs. "You're not as bad as my dad thinks."