I am SO INCREDIBLY SORRY for missing last week. I was having serious struggles with chapter. So much in fact that I completely deleted it and started over form Caleb's POV.

Hopefully the fact that this chapter is about twice as long as usual will make up for it.

Hopefully I'll have another chapter for you next week.

Please enjoy this chapter!

~TH~

Caleb hadn't moved from his position on the bed in hours. It was somewhere around three- four? In the morning. He had been staring straight up at the ceiling since about six. The neon sign kept flashing, casting an eerie red glow, oddly reminiscent of police lights.

He felt numb. Like when he'd been seriously injured and the morphine kept the pain just below the surface even though he knew it was there. When he couldn't feel the pain, but he knew there had to be a reason because he should be in so much pain he couldn't help but cry out.

But he wasn't crying. Or screaming. Or even shaking. He was just… staring.

He vaguely wondered if this was what it felt like after an amputation. That feeling of wrongness. Of knowing something was supposed to be there but it wasn't. But it didn't hurt, not really. It just... Wasn't there.

And his connection with Dean… it was a part of him. It's absence felt just as wrong as if he had lost a limb.

The phone started ringing on the table beside the bed. He ignored it. No one he wanted to talk to would be calling. The ringing stopped only to start up again.

He answered it without looking. "Hello?"

"Caleb? Son?"

The man in question sat up, leaning against the headboard. "Dad?"

"Where are you?" Mac sounded out of breath.

"The motel?" He was tired and didn't have the energy to figure out what his father was getting at.

"John called. I'm on my way."

"Oh. Okay."

"Caleb? Are you alright?"

Showing the first emotion he had in hours, he let out a scoff. "What do you think, Mac?"

"I'll be there soon."

As much as Caleb would love for his dad to show up and make everything better, he knew that wasn't how this worked. Mac would come and Deuce would still be dead. "Have you… have you tried to find-?" He couldn't say the word 'body'. He couldn't refer to Dean like that.

"No. I don't have anything recent enough. And it's- it's best to wait until everyone is there."

"Okay." He said again.

"Caleb-"

"I'll see you when you get here." He hung up the phone. Unable to continue the conversation. He knew his dad was worried about him. He couldn't say he blamed him. Caleb was not okay and he would probably never be okay again. But there was nothing that they could say or do to make it better.

For now he would continue to stare at the ceiling, relishing the numbness. He knew it wouldn't last. And he wasn't sure what he was going to do when the pain hit again.

~SPN~

Mac was the first person to arrive. He pulled his son into an embrace as soon as he was through the door. Caleb let him. Not pulling away, but not returning it.

After a moment they broke apart and a hand reached up to cup his face. "How are you?"

His father's eyes were red, clearly he had been crying.

"John called?"

"Yes. He said you- you had a vision."

"It wasn't a vision." He sat on the edge of the bed, running a weary hand over his face. "But I felt it. Or don't feel it. I don't know. But he-he's gone."

Mac sat next to him. "That must have been horrible."

Caleb swallowed back the sob that was threatening to break free. "I've never felt anything like this before."

"Do you have any idea what happened?" His father looked apologetic at asking, but he couldn't blame the man. He cared for Dean too.

"What did John say?"

"Just that you called and Dean was de-" He cleared his throat, "gone."

The younger man paused for a second. "He didn't tell you anything else?"

"Well he gave me an address-"

"But he didn't tell you why Dean wasn't with him?"

"No… Son, what's going on? What didn't John tell me?"

Caleb shook his head, standing and beginning to pace. The anger sparked and it almost felt good feeling something again. Especially if it was anger instead of grief.

"Good old Johnny finally went too far."

"What is that supposed to mean?" His father rose from the bed.

"It means Sam decided to get into a spat with Johnny boy and John decided to take it out on Dean."

"John would never-"

"Don't. We both know he would. I've seen him friggin' do it."

Mackland grabbed Caleb's shoulder's, stopping the mindless pacing. "What are you talking about?"

"In May! When Sam decided to take an early vacation. Johnny decided that pounding Dean's face into the wall might just bring Sam back!"

Mac released his hold taking a step back. "Dean never said anything. You never said anything."

"What was I supposed to say?! What good would it have done?!" In truth, Caleb wasn't sure why he hadn't told anyone. He knew in his gut that he should. It was common sense. You see your best friend's dad cross the line between punishment and abuse and you inform people. Maybe it was because Caleb was an adult and felt that he should have been able to take care of it. Maybe because he had retaliated in a way that the rest of the Triad probably would not have appreciated. Regardless, he'd kept his mouth shut. So had Dean and Bobby. They all tried to forget about it and pass it off as a one time thing. (But did that really make it any better?)

"You know that's not acceptable! The Triad would have stepped in!"

"You've never done anything about it before!"

"This is different and you know it."

Caleb deflated slightly. "Bobby was there too. I might have killed him if Bobby didn't step in." He wasn't sure how far he would have continued in his thirst for retribution. Probably too far. But at the moment, a dead John Winchester didn't sound like such a bad idea. John's life for Dean's sounded like a pretty good trade in Caleb's mind.

"And it happened again?"

"Yeah. When I was on that hunt with Bobby. No service." Cell or psychically. "Sam didn't something stupid. John was drunk. Freaked out. Threw some punches and told Deuce to get out. According to Sam, that wasn't abnormal." He spat the words with all the venom he was feeling. "The only thing different is this time Deuce didn't come back the next morning."

"How long ago was this?"

"A little over two weeks."

"Why didn't you ever call? Me or Jim!"

"I didn't want the Triad involved."

"We should have been involved!"

Caleb crossed his arms. "The Triad has always taken John's side over Dean's. How was I supposed to know that this would be any different?"

Guilt flashed in the Scholar's eyes and Caleb felt momentarily vindicated.

"I've been looking for him for about two weeks. If I had known that-" He stopped, unable to finish the thought. If he had known that Dean was going to die he would have called every hunter in the Brotherhood. He would have burned down every town until he found Deuce safe and unharmed. As it was, this was his fault. If he had called then maybe-

"Don't do that, Caleb." Mac sighed. "We're all at fault to a degree, but you've done more to prevent it than all of us put together. If what you say is true… We'll discuss this new development when Jim gets here."

Caleb nodded, feeling suddenly exhausted. His father noticed, taking him by the elbow and setting him on the bed.

"Sleep."

"But-"

"Sleep. I'll wake you when the others arrive."

Caleb didn't mean to obey, but he found his eyes heavy and his body giving in to the much needed rest.

~SPN~

Caleb woke to hushed tones. It took a moment for him to remember why he felt like half of his soul had been brutally ripped in half. When reality hit him he sat straight up, causing the voices to silence. "Pastor Jim?"

The old man nodded, coming to sit at the foot of the bed. "I arrived not too long ago."

"Johnny?"

"Should be here within the hour."

Caleb nodded. "I'm sorry." The words came out unbidden. It was accompanied by a burning throat and stinging eyes.

"It's not your fault my boy. From what I've been hearing the fault lies with us " He glanced at Mackland. "However, I do wish that you had told us what transpired back in May. I know we may not have always done what is in the boys best interest. But you have to believe that we would not have allowed that to continue."

Caleb tore his eyes away, turning to look at nothing. "I thought he was just ticked. I didn't think he would do it again-"

He could see the small, sad nod in his peripheral.

Mac cleared his throat. "As soon as John gets here I can… begin."

It didn't take long. Caleb was just getting out of the shower when he heard the front door open.

He wasn't sure what his reaction was going to be when he saw the Winchesters. So much anger had been building.

But the second he saw his larger than life mentor with red, bloodshot eyes, the anger seemed to be zapped away.

John had a hand on Sam's shoulder. The boy was pressed into his father. It was strange seeing them like this. It was hard to get them to talk to each other in a civil way most days.

"John-" Mac started before pulling the man into an embrace. Sam was pressed between the two bodies but didn't fight it.

Seeing the great Knight cry must have caused everyone's anger to momentarily flee. His hands clenched in Mackland's shirt and John pressed his face into his friend's shoulder.

"Have you looked yet? Could you find anything?" Grief was mixed with hope. The hope that maybe Caleb was misreading things. That Dean was alive and it was just his powers fritzing out.

Mac shook his head. "I was waiting for you. Do you have anything of his to use?".

"Here." Caleb said, stepping forward. He still had the phone with him. "He ditched at a motel in Wickford."

The Scholar took the phone with a small nod. He took a seat in one of the chairs at the table, closing his eyes and concentrating everything on the device.

After a moment, he flinched. A few moments later, a jolt.

Caleb's heart sped up. There was no way that was good.

The psychic came back to the present with a gaps. He brought a hand up to his head, dropping the phone on the table.

"Mac?" John asked, putting a hand on his friend's shoulder. "What did you see?"

Unexpectedly, he shoved the hand off, rounding on the eldest Winchester. "I saw you for one. What were you thinking, John?!

"I- I was drunk!" The man seemed caught off guard by the sudden attack. "I didn't know what I was doing!" It was a lame excuse for the man who had the tolerance of the hardened marine he was.

"Were you drunk in May as well?"

"In-?" John glanced at Caleb. "That was different. I was terrified, Mac! Sam was missing!"

"Is that supposed to be an excuse? Lose one son might as well lose the other?!"

"Don't tell me how to discipline my children, Ames!"

"Don't tell me you think beating your children is truly an appropriate form of punishment! Am I to understand that this a recurring form of discipline?!" And Caleb hated hearing it allowed. He also hates the insinuation that it happened often and Caleb wasn't there to stop it.

"No." John seemed to lose some of his steam. "I didn't- I don't- I was scared, Mac."

The doctor ran a hand over his face. "He… I can track him up until he enters a bar. After that it goes dark."

"Does that mean-"

"I don't feel anything, John. I wish I did. But it's nothing. He's gone."

"B-but you didn't see the body?" Sam was asking.

There was an odd ringing in Caleb's ears. Having someone else confirm what he already knew was making his head buzz. He reached out a hand against the wall to keep him upright.

"I'm not sure what cut me off. I could be trying to protect myself. Or there could be psychic interference. I honestly don't know."

The smell of smoke a beer overtook him. He recognized the bar, it was where he had been told to get lost, but not the bartender. He was an older man, and he was talking to a defeated looking Dean. Things went hazy like a TV where the picture wasn't coming in right. Then a flash of silver and a spark of pain. Flesh being sliced open.

It stopped just as suddenly as it began.

Blackness engulfed him accompanied only by a high pitched ringing.

Sound cut back in like a knife to the skull. "Caleb, son, can you hear me?"

The man in question blinked up at his father. When had he gotten on the floor?

"Did you see something, Junior?" John was crouched in front of him, wide eyes staring at him in a way he hadn't in a very long time.

"Th-the bar in Wickford. There was an old man. He was talking to Dean and then-" a sob broke through his lips with a sharp pain in his chest.

"What did you see, son?" Jim prodded gently.

"A knife- I saw a- and pain- they- they were-" he wasn't sure exactly what they were doing. But his mind could easily fill in the pieces.

John clenched his jaw. "Someone did this to him."

Caleb wasn't sure if this was better or worse. Would it be better for him to be killed by the elements or by a freak accident? Was it more forgiving to have someone act intentionally malicious? Would that remove some of the overwhelming weight of guilt?

No. It was their fault- his family's fault- regardless.

The Knight stood and began pacing the room. "Sam, I'm taking you back to the school we were at when Dean left."

There was a stunned silence. "What?'

"Don't worry about unpacking. I'll drive you up and get everything settled in the morning."

"No! I want to help. You can't make me-"

"No, Sam. You wanted to stay in school. That school if I remember correctly. You wanted some independence. Well now's your chance and you don't have a choice, understand?!"

"Johnathan-"

"No! I'm still Sam's father and in this instance I will be obeyed. He wanted freedom so he's getting it. He wanted to finished school in Michigan. He's getting it."

"You can't -"

John didn't listen to the rest of the argument. He turned on his heels and stormed through the door.

No one knew what to say.

When Sam broke down sobbing, Caleb wanted to offer some comfort but didn't know how. Not when he was so broken himself.

He watched as Jim embraced the boy, murmuring nonsense that was supposed to be comforting. Caleb just stayed on the floor, leaning his head against the wall. Maybe he should follow Johnny out to whatever bar the man was going to lose himself in.

Losing himself in a bottle sounded a whole heck of a lot better than losing himself to his mind.

~TH~

Poor everyone.

Next chapter is pretty dark full warning.

Let's just say Caleb catches glimpses of a vision and draws some wrong conclusions. I'll leave it at that.

Anyway, thoughts on this chapter? I know everyone's emotions jump around but I feel like that's just how it be sometimes.

Also, my form of coping is straight up *lets dissociate for a while* and I admit I channeled a bit of that at the beginning.

Oh and please please please check out my one-shot "Genesis 40:20". I'm proud of it and it was my 100th ao3 fic. All the Damien freaking out on Deuce's behalf feels.

Please leave some comments I'm feeling pretty dry on this fic and I think it might be bc the comments have dwindled overtime. I am NOT trying to be pushy and I'm just glad ya'll are here but it would also certainly up my inspo.

Love you guys so much!

God bless,

Jamie