Dean wasn't sure exactly what he was feeling. 'Panicked' didn't seem to fully encapsulate it.

Nothing had gone according to plan and he could only hope that this butchard version had worked.

That his aim had been true and that there were no complications.

That he had not in fact killed the Guardian of the Brotherhood.

If he had, he might as well eat a bullet himself before his dad found out. Not to mention Caleb would never forgive him. He wouldn't deserve forgiveness.

Caleb may not forgive him even if Jim lived. Kidnapping, roughing up, tying him up and gagging him… those went a bit past normal friendship ramifications. It was just one more instance where nothing went right. But he was Dean Winchester. He should expect it by now. If life could screw him over it would.

"You with us kid?" the hand on his shoulder caused him to jump.

Dean gave a nod accompanied with a shaky smile. Jamison gave him another pat. "You did good, Dean. I really wasn't sure if you had it in you."

He gave a breath of a laugh. "Me either." When Jim had told him his plan Dean had shot it down. There was no way he was risking it. Eventually, Dean had agreed. He didn't like it. But he agreed. And he hated how well he played his part. He hated that part of him didn't hate it. It was almost… fun. And yet he knew every moment he spent with them was wrong. Every slur against the Brotherhood. Every word he spoke against his father. Part of him felt vindicated. Like he was finally speaking the words he'd never been allowed to speak. But an even bigger part screamed at him how wrong this was. How horrible it was. How this went against everything he'd ever been taught or believed.

It was true he had wanted out.

But this was too much.

And now that Caleb was involved…

He never should have agreed to this screwed up scheme.

"The boss is excited to meet you. He's only disappointed he couldn't be there to watch it himself."

Another small nod was all he could muster, trying to force himself to the present while attempting to keep his mind far away from what he had just done.

"Relax, kid. The boss will love ya. He'd love anyone who wasted the Guardian like that. You didn't even flinch!" A hearty laugh followed. Dean tried to answer in kind but it sounded weak to his own ears.

The old print shop that they considered their homebase was on the same property as the gym. It was a strange move, but one Dean could see merit in. No one would expect for them to be across the street. The building was mostly a large open room. Lots of machinery and scaffolding remained from when it was a press. A kitchen, bathroom, and small office allowed for some space and privacy if needed.

The sound of tires crunching on gravel brough all eyes up. The side door opened, a shining light seeming to come through, warring with the dim industrial lights of the building.

"Speak of the Devil." Jamison smirked.

The man coming forward looked familiar. Dean couldn't quite place it. The man appeared to be in his late twenties or early thirties. The ring on his right hand caused Dean to feel the naked skin around his own ring finger. Dean knew it didn't make sense, but it was like he could feel the absence of the ring in his very being. It was like he had left a part of himself on the floor of the farmhouse.

"Good to see you again, Dean." The man smiled.

"Glad to finally meet you." the boy answered.

The man laughed. "You don't recognize me, do you."

"Sorry, they didn't let me out of my cage much."

A more boisterous laugh. "I gathered that. And, to your credit, you were unconscious for most of the time I was with you."

Dean offered a tight lip smile. "Not surprising. It seems I've spent most of my life at death's door."

"One of the Brotherhood's many faults. I'm Hollis. We once hunted a darkling together. You nearly ended up a human ice sculpture."

Dean had a vague recollection of the hunt. He'd spent most of it feeling his organs shut down after being stabbed by a magical staff that was slowly turning him to ice. He knew that there had been an extra hunter on the hunt with his father. Hollis was at the Farm when he woke up as well. He might have even spent Christmas with them. What Dean remembered the most was how worried Sam had been. It seemed like such a long time ago.

"Let's hope these circumstances will be better."

"I'd say they should be. Especially since your guard dog isn't here."

Caleb was not here. And there was a very good chance that Dean would never see him again. And if they happened to see each other, Caleb most certainly wouldn't be his protector.

"I have a feeling he won't be around anytime soon." Unless Jim brought him when they stormed the place later. Assuming of course Jim was still alive. If he didn't stop thinking about this he was going to have a breakdown. He cleared his throat. "So how'd you end up here?"

"I realized just how corrupt the Brotherhood was." A gleam of anger shone in the man's eyes. "You know I was blamed for what happened to you? Just because I was the odd guy out. Had nothing to do with actual merit, just because I wasn't part of the inner circle it was my fault."

Dean could believe that. Blame was often thrown around and if someone happened to not be part of the group there was a good chance blame would be tossed that way. Just look at Joshua.

"Jamison told me why you joined up." The man gave him an appraising look. "I saw your back, y'know. They didn't look like hunting wounds."

He hadn't thought about his time in the militia camp in a long time. It was one of those times he didn't remember well. The whipping he'd taken mixed with an infected burn had made him miserable and fevered. Then came the heat stroke. It was all a blur. But he did know his dad had nothing to do with the scars. In fact he thought his dad might have killed the guy who did it. They would have been about six months, maybe a year old by the time Hollis saw them. He could see how the wrong conclusions would be drawn.

"Yeah, well every family has their secrets."

"I'm just glad you've come over to our side. It would have been difficult to get to the Guardian without you."

Dean nodded. "I've been screwed over far too many times by the Brotherhood. I didn't realize there was a network though."

"Less of a network." Hollis shrugged. "I'm the only one in the Brotherhood. Griffith and his faction might agree that Murphey had no place as leader, but I'm the only ring bearer that actually wants the whole thing gone. It's not the leader who's corrupt. It's the entire cult."

Dean felt a shiver run down his spine, but all he did was smile and nod.

~TH~

Fics mentioned in this story are "The Best Christmas Gift" and "Iron Will"

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