Caleb hadn't realized that he drifted off, but a quick slap to the face ensured that he was awake.
"Time to wake up Princess, the show's about to start."
Caleb growled, jerking his head away, he was at the far end of the gym near the arch of a three point line. Dean was standing a couple feet in front of them, at halfcourt. There was a small gun in his hand, his fingers constantly flexing around it.
The door opened and the pastor appeared through the unlocked door. "Dean?" He called out into the semi-darkness. Caleb attempted to call out in warning, but only succeeded in making Jim look towards them.
"Jim." Dean said in a low voice.
"Dean? Caleb?! What's going on?"
"I told you I was leaving. You shouldn't have sent your guard dog after me."
"Guard dog? Caleb? I didn't-" He looked past Dean, shaking his head as he made eye contact with Caleb. "In fact I told him to stay away."
"You should keep better watch on your people."
"Clearly." He said in what was clearly disapproval. "Is that what you called me here to tell me? I'll talk to Caleb. This wasn't necessary."
"Yes it was." Dean let out a shaky breath, bringing the gun up to be level with the pastor. "I'm sorry Jim, but the Brotherhood can't continue." Caleb called out around his gag, pulling at his restraints.
There was a flash of something in Jim's eyes. Regret? Anger? Sadness? Pity? It was hard to tell from the distance he was at.
"I see. And you think that taking me out will end a centuries old regiment?"
Dean shrugged, but the gun was wavering in his hand. "It's a start."
"You don't want to do this. We can talk about it. Come to a different agreement."
"No!" Dean shouted, running a hand through his hair. "No. You won't listen. You never listen. None of you do. The Brotherhood is a poison. It's a cult."
"The Brotherhood isn't evil, Dean. You know this. And you know my death wouldn't accomplish anything."
"It would make a point. And it'd draw out the Knight."
Jim cocked his head. "You do know that this won't bring your father back to you. It will only bring his wrath down upon you."
Dean let out a dark chuckle. "Been there. Done that. That's not what this is about. I want him dead."
"Demons have been attempting that for years, what makes you think you'll have any better luck?"
"Don't underestimate me, Jim."
"I'm not. I never have. But doing this won't bring you any semblance of peace. This isn't a fairytale."
"I won't know that until I try."
"Dean-"
"I'm sorry, Jim."
Dean pulled the trigger. Caleb screamed. Jim fell.
Everything after that seemed to happen both incredibly fast and achingly slow.
The gun slipped from Dean's fingers seemingly in slow motion. Dean was at Jim's side, searching for a pulse before looking up and clearing his throat. "He-he's dead."
Jamison went over, confirming the diagnosis and helping Dean to his feet. They both turned, Dean was covered in blood. And he was shaking.
So was Caleb.
He was shaking. And screaming. And fighting to get free.
Because this wasn't possible.
There was no way that he had just watched-
Not Jim.
Not Dean.
Jamison was trying to speak to him but he was too busy straining and screaming and crying. A harsh slap to the face momentarily brought him back.
"We're leaving. You can tell the rest of the Triad that they'll get what's coming to them." He dropped Caleb's phone on the floor. "I hope when you tell them, you tell them in great detail. I'm only sorry they couldn't all come and watch. It was so much fun to witness." A pat to the cheek was his final goodbye.
Jamison, the two thugs, and Dean all left through the side door leading to the office. Caleb strained against the ropes holding him. He had to get free. He had to-
Dean was suddenly in front of him. Caleb jerked away.
"You were never supposed to be involved." Dean whispered in a harsh but shaking voice. "I'm sorry you had to see that but I told you to stay away!" He let out a growl of frustration, running a hand through his hair. "You should have listened to the Triad and kept your distance. You were never-!" Dean closed his eyes, pressing a hand to his forehead. "None of this concerns you. Go back to your dad and leave me alone." Something was slipped into his hand. A sigh. "I really am sorry, Damien."
And he was gone again.
Caleb looked into his hand to find a switchblade. He didn't know what game Dean was playing and he wasn't sure that he cared anymore. He flicked it open and twisted the knife in his hand so that he could cut off the ropes holding down his right arm. As soon as it was free he repeated it with his other arm and legs, finally ripping that gag off.
He stumbled forwards to the body, feeling desperately for a pulse. There was none. What there was, was blood. Lots of it. Shot in the chest. Near the heart. Caleb thought he may just be sick right there. How could this happened? What exactly had happened?
They couldn't get away with this.
None of them could.
Dean, Jamison, thug one and thug two. They had to answer for this.
Picking up Dean's now discarded gun he took off out the exit he'd seen them leave. He didn't see anything but heard something behind the building. Cutting through a playground he saw the truck disappearing over the hill. He took off after it, jumping the fence and firing the gun until there was nothing left. The truck turned onto the main road, but he had managed to knock out the back window. Whether or not he succeeded in hitting anyone in the car was a mystery.
It didn't matter.
They would pay.
He would find them.
And they would pay.
Caleb's legs gave out under him. A choked sob fell from his lips as his knees hit the pavement.
This wasn't possible.
How could he lose so much in so short a time?
What had happened to Dean? Had he literally lost his mind? Or was this truly him, just twisted and bitter?
It didn't matter.
The Guardian was dead.
Some Knight he was.
He'd lost both Guardian's in one day.
John was going to kill him.
John had every right to kill him.
But he had to- he had to warn him.
Them.
Both John and his father.
He couldn't let any more of the Triad die.
He was unsure of how long he had been outside, but it had to have been for a considerable time. He managed to force himself to his feet and begin to walk back. He was surprised as neared the building to see his jeep. It was… salvageable. The passenger side door was bashed in but it wasn't totaled like he had initially suspected. He ran a hand over the jeep that John and Bobby had given him, inspecting the damage with a numb ache. He hadn't really taken the time to contemplate the fact that he wasn't in worse condition. Probably just some minor scrapes and a concussion now that he thought about it.
He didn't know why he was even thinking about all of this.
What did it matter?
They were long gone.
And he couldn't leave Jim like that.
He just couldn't.
Slowly, feeling like he was in the middle of a bad dream, or maybe even one of his horrific visions, he pushed the back door open. It apparently hadn't been locked in years. At least something was going right. He wasn't sure he had the energy to drag himself all the way around the building.
He looked up and stopped.
The body was gone.
There was blood and the clear signs that there had been something there but no body to speak of.
"What is going on!" He called out, feeling every bit as confused and heartbroken as he'd ever felt. The sound echoed around him and he resisted the urge to sink back to his knees. Was this some sort of game? If so, the least they could do is tell him the rules.
As if in answer, his phone began ringing.
It was still on the floor where Jamison had left it.
He picked it up, not caring how he sounded. "What?!"
"Caleb, son, listen to me-"
"Dad?"
"Yes. But-"
"Dad, Jim- Dean-"
"I know. I know, son. That's why you need to listen to me. Go to the Farm."
"But how could I- I need to warn you- tell you-"
"Caleb. Go to the Farm. We can talk there. Everything will be okay. But you need to go to the Farm. Now."
Caleb cleared his throat, wiping at his traitorous eyes. "Yeah, yeah, okay."
"I'll be waiting for you. We can talk then."
Caleb didn't respond, ending the call.
He didn't know what was going on. But he knew one thing, the Farm was the last place he wanted to go.
~TH~
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