"Dean, can we stop now?"
They could have been running for hours or minutes, and Dean wouldn't have noticed the difference, as he expertly weaved his way through the trees, barely avoiding low-hanging branches, and other hazardous parts of the forest, as he tried to see through the sun that had started to sink below the canopy of protective trees.
With the approach of sunset, the temperature, which had been comfortable, had started to decline into colder, more frigid numbers, as Dean struggled to keep up the same pace that he had long ago adopted when he and Sam started their frantic race through the woods. At first, the pace of the officers chasing them had kept them moving far longer than what Dean thought he was capable of. When he heard the familiar sound of a chopper up high, he and Sam had to duck into an exposed tree trunk for protection. Once they had passed, they started their journey again. His legs burned, and his heart ached, but he kept moving. The only worse than any physical pain was the thought of being separated from his brother.
But his baby brother's exhausted plea for rest, finally got through to him as he allowed them temporary respite on the trunk of a tree that had either been cut down by the forces of nature, or a logger. Easing his exhausted body down on the trunk, he fought to hold it together as all the adrenaline that had been keeping him moving for so long, started to ebb and slip away, denying him the precious feeling that he had been basking in to keep him going. He had no idea what they would do now, but they were stuck until someone found them, or a miracle occurred.
"Yeah, Sam," he said, looking over at his brother, as he gasped for breath beside him. "We can stop for now." Now that he was still, he was aware of just how much of a beating he had put his body through, as his legs throbbed and ached with the undue pressure they had been put under, and his heart absolutely soared underneath his chest.
"I'm scared," Sam whispered, as he drew closer to his big brother, seeking him out for the protection that he craved. "I want to go home."
"We can't go home," Dean whispered brokenly, as he used his forearm to wipe the moisture that had collected on his forehead, and had started to trail down his face. "We can't, there's nothing there for us right now."
Minnesota was too far away, and even if they could reach it, they would be stopped by the police and hauled off to whatever hell awaited them in the foster or group home care. As he closed his eyes briefly against the pain that he felt coming off him in waves, he tried to imagine a good outcome and couldn't.
Every which way he looked, they were screwed, and even though it went against everything that he believed in to be strong, he was scared. It was a feeling that he was used to having, but not this strongly, and he fought against its powerful hold.
"Dean," Sam whispered uncertainly. "Are you...are you okay?" This was new to him. Before all this, he had only known the strongest, bravest parts of his brother. The confident, cocky big brother that loved to tease and rough house with him. Seeing him so scared and unsure, was unsettling to him.
"No," Dean whispered brokenly, as he wrapped his arms around himself to at least attempt to keep himself together, keep himself under control, because he could feel his heart shattering inside his chest, and it hurt. "I'm not okay."
He was scared.
Scared for themselves in a forest that could house any number of dangers from either the animal variety, or the demonic kind. He was scared for Caleb, that he was on his way to jail for something that he had had no choice but to do, and he was scared of the penalty that he would be facing if he ever went to trial, and he was scared for Sam. How would he protect him if YED tried to come and stage another attack? Especially if he had his demonic cronies watching every desperate move they made? It was an impossible situation. Either doom themselves to torment at a group home or foster care where the demon could come at any point, or doom themselves to hide in the forest until someone they knew could find them.
Neither option was desirable in the least, but Dean knew that he wouldn't go willingly to any of those places. Not when there was a chance he and Sam could be put in different homes, and not when the threat of the demon finding them was always a possibility.
"What's wrong?" Sam asked, as he placed his hand on Dean's knee. He wasn't too surprised when he pulled away from the touch, shunning all attempts at physical affection, even when he probably needed it the most.
"Nothing," Dean said, sniffing back as much of the waterworks as he could. He needed to be brave, he needed to be strong in order to be at the top of his game, even though the influx of emotions were too strong for him to take on by himself. "I'm okay."
"Yeah, right."
"Just leave it, Sam," he begged, as more tears squeezed out of the corners of his eyes, trailing down his beet red cheeks and into his mouth. He tasted saltwater as he swallowed them back, not even bothered by their potent taste.
He was heartbroken.
The pain from hearing the cop tell him that Caleb had been arrested, hadn't initially overtaken him. It was only now, when he had the chance to stop and resign himself to the pain that his body had been holding back on, did he realize just how devastated he truly was. He could almost feel his heart shatter inside his chest, could feel it break off into tiny, jagged pieces as they pierced each living part of himself. The torment from knowing Caleb had chosen to run because, in his mind, he had pushed him to it, and now was on his way to jail for it, was crushing for Dean.
"Dean," Sam said again. "Are you crying?"
"No," Dean whispered softly. "I'm okay, Sam."
While they had been running, adrenaline had wiped out the devastation, had numbed that pain from him. When they had stopped, it had come back to him full-force, and he was stumped as to how to properly manage it.
"No, you're not."
"Sam-"
"It will be okay, Dean."
For years, he had catered to his brother, had looked out for him, and had assured him in much the same way that Sam was now doing for him. It was comforting to know that he wasn't alone in the truest sense of the word, just in the sense that there wasn't an adult there, someone like Caleb or Bobby to take the helm and manage it for him.
"How?"
"Because," Sam said, bumping Dean playfully in the shoulder. "I'm here, and because Jim always said that if we believe, things will turn out okay."
Sam had always greatly adhered to the advice Jim passed on to them, and was now doing that more than ever. Dean tried to adapt the same mindset he was doing, but it was hard when his mind insisted on playing him a slideshow of all the things that were happening to Caleb, and the odds they faced of surviving in a strange forest. Taking the time to study his brother, he saw that Sam's bottom lip was quivering and he was shivering against him.
"It's hard to believe that right now, Sam."
Their situation just seemed to keep getting worse and worse by the second. Not only had he lost Caleb again, but he and Sam were now alone and vulnerable in the forest. The pressure that he had placed on his shoulders by running, and taking Sam with him, was only now beginning to dawn on him.
It wasn't just his life that he was in charge of, it was also his baby brother's. When he had made the split second decision to run from the police, he had taken over responsibility for both of them, and whatever happened after that, was solely on him. It was crippling to realize that, to know that every move he made, would have to be made with his brother in mind. With both of them in mind, as he glanced wearily around at their new surroundings. It was quiet for now, but that could change at any second.
"Do you think Caleb's okay?"
"I don't know, Sam," Dean said, shaking his head, even though he doubted Sam could see that in the total darkness that had now completely enshrouded them. "I hope so," he added, as his voice broke. "It's my fault we're in this messed up situation."
"How is it your fault?" Sam asked, struggling to understand where his brother was getting his thinking from.
"Because I was the one who convinced him to leave. I was the who told him that we should run, and now look what happened!" It gutted him to realize that if he had kept his mouth closed, and let Caleb make the choice on his own, things could have turned out differently.
"Dean, it's not your fault. Caleb is an grown-up, and he made the choice to leave with us to protect us."
"And now look: He's on his way to jail, and we're out here alone."
"We could go back-"
"No," Dean said, shaking his head, denying that plan entirely. "I refuse to go to that place. I won't let either of us go, Sam."
"But-"
"If we do that, they might separate us, Sam."
He had heard of that happening before, where siblings were placed separately because of the fact that some family's wouldn't want to take both of them on. It was sickening, and it was unfair, and that was one of the sticking points for Dean. He refused to be apart from Sam, and he knew that was possible if he let them go.
"Oh."
"So we have to keep moving," he said, as he struggled to his feet. "Come on."
For all he knew, the cops could have an all out search party trying to locate them, and he knew that they would have to keep moving on foot to avoid being detected. Even though he was exhausted, even though he would have loved to have laid his head down to sleep, he couldn't.
"But, Dean, it's dark. How are you going to see where we're going? At school, Miss Jessie said that the forest is like a maze in the daylight, but at night, it's like a hundred times worse. A maze on top of a maze!"
Now that they were in the situation they were, Sam was drawing on every lesson he learned in school about wilderness survival, plus his own experiences in being taught by his family. Most of the stuff would require his big brother helping him with, but he was willing to do anything if it meant keeping Dean safe, and making sure that he did not become more upset than he already was.
"I know, dweeb, but we have no choice, okay? If the cops find us, we're done. They won't let us get away again."
"But I'm tired, and what about the animals-"
"I know," Dean said, his tone softening at the depleted look Sam gave him. "I promise it won't be long, but we have to keep going right now."
"Fine."
As they set off again, Dean found that it was much harder to travel this time. The sun had completely set, and the ground under his feet was uneven, making it hard to keep himself upright. He could feel his heart breaking, could feel himself start to cry again, he struggled against that unwanted feeling.
"Sam, hold my hand," he said, reaching his arm behind him to take hold of his baby brother's.
"Okay," Sam said, as he easily placed his hand in Dean's. "How much longer?"
"We just got started," Dean reminded him, as his eyes searched all around them for any sign of danger that would be almost impossible to spot in the pitch darkness. "Wait," he said, stopping suddenly
"What?"
"I have an idea."
Taking off the jacket he had been wearing, he hung it on a branch that seemed to point in the direction they were headed in, but Dean walked in the opposite direction to further trick the police that would be searching for them. Sighing deeply, he continued to hang on to Sam, as they moved deeper and deeper into the trees.
"We're in Sioux Falls," Sam said, after a little while of silent walking. "Maybe Bobby will find us."
"I hope so," Dean said. "I hope he sees my shirt and knows what I was doing."
It was a trick that Caleb had taught him to elude an enemy, and he hoped that it would manage to fool the police if they were still looking.
"What were you doing?"
"Making the cops think that we were going in one direction, when we were going in the other."
"Oh."
"We'll stop soon," Dean promised him, feeling Sam lag behind him. "And we'll try to wait until Bobby finds us." If he find us, Dean silently thought to himself.
The process was familiar to Caleb by now, even though he tried not to think of it as something old, something that he had to be familiar with. A series of new mug shots were taken, prints were gathered, and all of his personal information was collected.
After that, he was placed in a holding cell for the night until they could assign him a new cell block unit for the duration of his stay. Even though it killed him to admit it, he knew this time it might be a long while before he got out and was able to see the boys again. According to his arresting officer, it was felony kidnapping. The evidence was right there in front of any jury that would potentially take on the case. He had willfully taken the boys, had violated a strict court order saying that he had to surrender custody, and had been caught outside of Minnesota with them.
His actions had been done with the purest of intentions, but no one outside his family would know that. For all the court knew, he had defied them, disobeyed an order to give up the two people that meant the world to him, and had attempted to flee. Thinking of it like that, he almost felt sorry for Dawn. She already had her work cut out for her in attempting to restore his custodial rights, and having an added kidnapping charge tacked on to the already growing list of charges, wouldn't help her mount her case at all.
"What the hell were you thinking?" she demanded, the morning after his arrest.
"I wasn't," he said, looking down at his cuffed hands, as he looked back up at her. "I really wasn't."
"Well, now they're charging you with kidnapping. You know that, right?"
"I got a little suspicious when the officer informed of that," he said dryly. "Isn't kidnapping supposed to involve holding people against their will?"
"In some cases," she said, shaking her head in disbelief. "And in other cases, it's called parental kidnapping, where you defy an agreement or custody arrangement, and that's basically what you just did."
He sighed, shaking his head. "I didn't mean for this to explode like it did-"
"We have an arraignment coming up in a few days."
"Will I get bail?"
"It's possible. The judge only hesitates where it concerns murder or something of the like, but with kidnapping and other charges like that, it's iffy."
"Will I get it or not?"
"I...I wouldn't be surprised if the answer is no."
He nodded. "Alright."
"You'll plead not guilty to all five of the charges against you."
"Right. What happens if I get it?"
"You'll be allowed out while whatever proceedings take place."
"What about the boys?"
"I'll do my best to get your friend temporary custody of them, at least until you're in a position within the judge's eyes, to get your rights back."
"Okay."
"There's something else," she said, avoiding his probing gaze.
"What?"
"I got a call from CPS this morning. The officer that was about to take the boys, said that Dean completely lost it when he told him that you had been arrested, and he grabbed Sam and ran into the forest. They've been looking," she said, seeing the horrified look on Caleb's face, "but they haven't-they haven't found them yet."
"Dawn, you have to find them."
The idea of them being alone and vulnerable while YED was still out there, was devastating for him. Even more so when he was harshly reminded of the fact that he couldn't search for them. He was stuck in a cell again, now with the knowledge from Dawn that the boys were missing.
"We're doing everything we can," Dawn promised. "They've been looking all night, but they either keep moving, or have hidden themselves."
If anyone knew the delicate art of concealing themselves (and others), it would be Dean. He had learned everything he knew from Caleb, and that included tracking and hiding himself from unwanted enemies. It didn't surprise him that Dean had reacted the way he had, he just hoped that Bobby, or even the police, were able to find them and bring them to safety.
Dean lost track of the number of hours he and Sam had been alone in the forest, exposed to the elements. Once they had hiked a few more miles into the heart of the woods, they finally stopped for the night. While not wanting to be left vulnerable and exposed, Dean had determined that he would keep watch while Sam slept.
It was safer that way, even though Dean was exhausted from the lack of sleep he had gotten since everything had gone to hell. Scrubbing a hand over his eyes, he looked down at his little brother. Sam was still asleep, his chest rising and falling slowly in time with his soft breaths. At least Sam was momentarily free from the same hurt and confusion that was consuming his older brother. Dean never wanted to be thought of as a baby or someone who needed help, but he wanted Caleb. He missed him more than anything in the world, and wished more than anything that they could go back in time, and change what they had done.
He still blamed himself for what had happened to Caleb. It was a part of his natural DNA to place the blame on himself when something involved him and it went wrong, even when it completely ridiculous and unrealistic.
"De?" Sam slurred sleepily, using his nickname for his brother.
"Hey, Sammy," Dean said softly, as he threaded his fingers through Sam's bangs, pushing them aside. "Sleep good?"
"Yeah. My back hurts a little bit, though."
"I'm sure it does," Dean said. "My legs hurt."
Throughout the night, he had allowed Sam to use his lap as a pillow to cushion his head, and his legs had definitely paid the price for that, as he shakily got to his feet, hoping to release some more feeling into his frozen limbs.
"How long have we been-"
"I don't know," Dean said. "Overnight. It's almost morning."
In the distance, he could see the sun begin its slow climax up the horizon. It was beautiful to be so close to it, but when Dean was reminded of why they were so close to it, it lost its appeal to him, as he tried to think of anything but the hell they and Caleb were currently going through.
"I'm hungry," Sam said, tugging on Dean's arm. "Is there anything to eat?"
"No. Not unless I kill something. Even then I'd have to cook the meat, and there's nothing around I can use to start a fire."
"Okay," Sam said, sniffling back tears.
"We'll find something soon, Sam."
However, Sam had stopped paying attention to him and was focused on the ground. Staring intently at the small patch of leaves Sam was so earnestly studying, he noted a dead squirrel that had been left there. Before he could move, Sam had hesitantly reached out and picked it up by the tail. Inspecting it from the new angle, Dean could not see any obvious trauma to the body. It made him wonder how the squirrel died, but his heart gave a small leap when he thought of the food it would provide them. Taking it from Sam, he laid it across the trunk they were on and reached for his knife he kept in his boot.
"Miss Jessie said squirrels are yummy. Her husband eats them."
"Yeah, they are. I remember Bobby gave us some once."
Sam smiled, clearly excited at the idea of eating. "He said he liked squirrel better than deer."
Dean shrugged, wiping his knife on his jeans. "Eh, deer is a little bit better. Sam, you might not want to watch this-"
Sam had a sensitive soul, and he did not wish to inflict the image of him skinning the squirrel into his memory forever. As it was, he was struggling to remember the proper steps to take. Bobby taught him once, but that seemed like forever ago.
"What? Skinning it?" Sam said, as though it was no big deal. Taking the knife from him before Dean had time to understand what he was doing, Sam began the first part of the process. "See? It's real easy, D."
"Apparently, you dweeb." Taking his knife back, Dean finished it. Still, though, he was aware they had to find the right tools to make a fire.
When a twig snapped somewhere behind them, Dean spun around, his eyes searching frantically for the source of the noise, not trusting in the fact that it was simply an innocent animal.
"What is that?" Sam whispered, clinging to Dean's side for protection from the unknown intrusion.
"I don't know," Dean said, as he started moving in the opposite direction of the noise. "Let's go."
As he increased their pace, the mysterious noise continued to follow them. Feeling his heart race, knowing that it wasn't the cops having finally found them, he kept his eyes trained on all the parts of the woods that he could see.
"Who is it, Dean?" Sam whispered.
"I don't know-"
As they kept moving, the noise only seemed to get closer and closer to them as they kept a steady pace ahead of the stranger or thing that was stalking them.
"Dean-" Sam started to say, but cut himself off abruptly with a scream when the stranger suddenly stepped out in front of them.
"You damn idjits."
