Author's Note

For Kaly – Here's the first part of your Secret Santa request – hope it is ok.

For Geminigirl – Thank you for keeping me right and pointing out the British-isms that are determined to sneak in lol!

For Sifi – as a thank you for a lovely New Year's treat!

And for everyone who has reviewed so far – thank you! You keep me going…

Just a reminder, this Caleb is based on Ridley C James – I ain't that good unfortunately….

Summary

One brother makes a bargain that may ultimately cost the Winchesters more than they are willing to pay. This will be slightly AU as will eventually include John, Caleb and Pastor Jim.

Disclaimer

Nope not mine, though it is on my New years resolution list…..

Warnings

Some bad words….oh and um, well, you knew it was coming right?...coughapparent character deathcough hides

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Chapter 5

Caleb hurried to the attic room. Something was definitely off here. And not just the house. He kept picking up something akin to fatalism from Sam. The kid knew something he was keeping from his brother – a vision perhaps? And how the hell was he keeping it from Deuce? If he and Jim could both sense that Sam was hiding something, Dean's instincts should have been screaming at him by now. Hell, the runt usually couldn't even sneeze without Dean knowing…

Suddenly a vision assailed him. He could see Dean lying on the ground, blood pouring from terrible chest wounds, could see his organs exposed. Sam was kneeling beside his brother, completely distraught.

As the image faded, Caleb fought the urge to turn and ran back down the stairs. Sam and Dean were outside in his vision, so it was obviously not happening now, so it must be the future. It couldn't be the past because the Dean in his vision was most definitely dead.

Caleb quickly strode to the north facing wall and, making a hole, he deftly deposited the pouch and then virtually sprinted from the room to check on the two young hunters.

"John would kick my ass if anything happens to his boys on my watch." He thought to himself. It had nothing to do with his own feelings at all, he sternly told himself.

He met Dean coming out of the bedroom. "Any problems?"

"No, it's quiet."

"Where's Sam?"

In answer, they heard a yell and a muffled thud from downstairs and they took off at a run.

Sam staggered out of the kitchen door, blood trickling down from a gash above his left eye, flowing across a very pissed-off expression.

"What happened to you?" Dean automatically reached out one hand to tilt his brother's chin so that he could check his pupils – both were fine. Sam slapped his hand away in irritation.

"I'm fine, it was just a toaster."

"And I thought it was dad who struggled with those?" Dean teased lightly.

Sam grinned ruefully. "Apparently, it must run in the family. I suppose I should just be grateful it didn't try to choke me."

"So, that just leaves the basement." The previous competitive good humour had left the group, they just wanted to finish this and head out of the house. All three had a bad feeling.

"I'll do it." Caleb volunteered, suddenly feeling a need to protect Dean, but from what?

"We'll cover you." Dean had the rock-salt filled shotgun at the ready and Sam picked up his own. They cautiously approached the cellar door; they knew that if the poltergeist was going to attack, this would be the time, given that this would be its last chance.

Out of nowhere, an invisible force grabbed Caleb and flung him down the cellar stairs. "Caleb!" Both brothers called and quickly hurried after him, only to find him in a crumpled, unconscious heap at the bottom of the stairs.

Sam knelt and checked the older psychic's pulse and nodded to Dean. Caleb was fine – though he would have a hell of a headache. His temple was already beginning to colour with a bruise.

"Well, I'm betting he didn't see that one coming?" Dean smirked. He quickly located the fallen pouch and moved towards the eastern wall. Unseen, a metal rod began to unscrew itself from an old home –made wine rack in the corner.

Turn…

Dean picked up Caleb's axe that had landed close to the wall from when Cal had fallen. At least he had had the good fortune not to land on the bloody thing.

Turn…

He hefted the axe preparing to strike the wall- this'll be a bitch, he thought looking at the solid wall in front of him. He spotted a hole in the wall further along.

Turn…

He walked towards it – a nice ready made hole would make life a whole lot easier he thought. Even if it as at finger tip height for him. (Like hell was he asking Sam to reach it for him, he would never let me forget it)

Turn…

He reached for the hole, his broad shoulders now openly exposed.

Caleb cracked his eyes open to look blearily across the room. Sam was standing guard behind his brother, watching for any sign of danger. If it wasn't for the fact that Caleb was looking directly at the rack, he would never have seen it - but the minute movement caught his eye. He watched the metal rod slowly turning. He opened his mouth to yell, but it felt like he was moving through molasses, his vocal cord tight, seemingly restrained by invisible hands.

In horror, he saw the rod come loose and fly directly at Dean's unprotected back.

Sam saw the rod at the last second before it plunged into Dean's shoulder. Only it didn't. The air around it seemed to glow as he felt energy spark off the metal and suddenly the rod simply vanished. Sam bit his lip in agony as he felt the rod pierce his own shoulder. He could feel the pain but there was no sign of the rod or any blood. That he knew would come later.

Caleb watched in amazement when the rod disappeared and turned stunned eyes to the younger man when he heard Sam's gasp of pain. He saw Sam stiffen and the agony flare in his eyes, pain that was quickly subdued and disguised. John had taught them well.

"Sammy? You ok?" Dean too had heard Sam's intake of breath.

"Fine – just twisted a muscle." Sam spoke through gritted teeth as the pain finally ebbed and he sagged.

Dean placed the last pouch in the hole and a brilliant white light filled the house and they could hear the wail of anguish as the poltergeist fled before it and it was cast out.

"Well, that went well – apart from Damien trying to be all Humpty-like."

Caleb was struggling to keep his eyes open, his mind was frantically trying to tell him something. But he couldn't quite clear the fog and his eyes were determinedly closing on him.

"No, you don't" Dean growled as he pulled Cal to his feet. "Let's get Pastor Jim to have a look at you."

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Jim had pronounced Caleb "Probably mildly concussed." And had suggested taking him to the hospital to get his head examined.

"About time." Dean had muttered.

"At least I have something to be examined Deuce."

"No-one said anything about brains Reaves, just your head, don't get too excited."

There was something niggling at the back of Caleb's mind, but try as he might, he couldn't remember it.

"Deuce, watch the brat while I'm gone."

"Why I didn't know you cared Cal." Sam walked over to them, his eyes sparking a warning, a clear message…this is none of your business Reaves- back off…reverberated in Caleb's mind loud and clear…what the fu.?

Language Cal, we're in a house of God after all. This is about family, mine, not yours - now keep you overly developed curiosity to yourself.

Caleb withdrew, stung. Now, that was not the young hunter he knew and loved like his own, at least not the Sammy he had helped raise. But then, he hardly new the post-college Sam; he could have changed. Not fucking likely – there was something else going on…Caleb could almost touch it…

Abruptly, the faces in front of him vanished and it was night-time. He was outside, snow was falling and in the distance he could see Jim's church. Unexpectedly, a woman's cry rang out from behind him and he spun. A slim blond woman in her mid twenties was backing away from what was the biggest black bear he had ever seen in his life. The bear snarled, foaming at the mouth. It was obviously mad…or rabid. The woman tried to run but it was no use. The bear struck her down in seconds; she shrieked in agony before quickly being silenced as the bear tore into her.

Caleb awoke to find Jim, Dean and Sam bent over him, identical looks of concern on their faces.

"How you feeling Cal?" The Pastor asked quietly.

Caleb closed his eyes as the image of the woman's final moments came back to him. "There was a bear, Jim. Not far from here – it killed a woman." He paled and Jim quickly handed him the waste bin.

Caleb quickly emptied the contents of his stomach- whether it was the vision or the concussion he wasn't sure, probably a bit of both…

"Could you tell when?"

"No, but it wasn't far from here – near the woods."

"I'll report a sighting to the police. Was it a normal bear?"

"I couldn't tell - it was frothing at the mouth so it could be mad or rabid…" Or possessed. He didn't have to say it.

He tried to stand up but began to sway. "You sit yourself down for a while. Sam and Dean can scout the area and I'll see if there have been any reports of animal attacks." or missing persons… Jim didn't need to say it either.

Several hours later, they had had no joy. There had been no signs of a large animal in any of the woodland near the church, no sightings, no missing persons reports, nothing. Animal control had told them they would keep an eye out; however it was unusual for bears to venture this close to a populated area.

They had a few hours before they would scout again. According to Caleb's vision, the attack had happened fairly late at night so they would reconnoitre the area again later, though Jim insisted that Caleb didn't go with them tonight, as he was still unsteady on his feet.

They had a quiet afternoon playing chess, with Sam and Dean checking and cleaning their weapons, readying themselves for the night's hunt. Although Caleb's visions were like Sam's in that they were generally supernatural related, his were not limited to the Demon, and he had on occasion even had non-supernatural premonitions.

Caleb's mind was still a little foggy and Jim could have easily beaten him any number of times during the afternoon. Jim was actually becoming a little concerned at his friend's distractedness. Perhaps he should have taken him to the hospital after all.

Caleb, meanwhile, was fuzzily trying to recall the events earlier in the day – he could remember getting thrown down the stairs, but everything after that with the sole exception of his vision was blurred and vague.

Had he been his usual alert self, that itself would have been a warning.

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Dean watched his brother fall. It seemed to take a lifetime, but at the same time happened in a heartbeat.

He couldn't understand it. They had been on their way back after a rather fruitless scout- still no signs of either supernatural or oversized bear activity. One moment Sam had been laughing. Dean had smacked him in the face with a snowball and Sam had bent to make one of his own. The next moment Jim's church bells had struck the half hour and Sam had whipped around to look at the church clock in silent accusation. '11:30' He whispered…

It was Christmas Eve…

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Sam cried out as a stabbing, slashing pain tore across his chest and he automatically clutched at his chest with one arm. How has this week passed so quickly? I'm not ready. He looked across at Dean who had turned to him at his cry, his face concerned. Obviously, what little Dean could see in his posture did not relieve his anxiety as he took a step towards Sam. I need to get away from Dean – he can't see this.

Whirling, Sam fled his brother, a tormented cry torn unwilling from his lips.

"Sam? Sammy – what's wrong?"

Sam didn't answer. I'm sorry Dean – I had to do it, I'm so sorry, he thought to himself. He ran as if his life depended on it, though he knew that was no longer the case. He was fleeing from his brother towards death.

He heard his brother calling from behind him but he knew he couldn't let him see. If Sam died without some sort of accident, Dean would know that it was something supernatural and if he suspected that, then he may figure out the truth. His brother was not stupid by any stretch of the imagination and excelled at spotting links others would normally miss. He couldn't leave it to chance. After what happened with the reaper and Layla, Dean had never been quite the same. He had never really come to terms that he had survived, always feeling that he had cheated Death and that in doing so had condemned an innocent in his place. Ignorance was never an excuse.

Sam understood but at the end of the day he would not, could not lose his brother. It was selfish and weak, but he did not regret the deal he had made. He knew his death would hit Dean hard but he would recover. He could join up with Dad - Sam suspected that his Dad was keeping more away from him than his brother. And the other hunters of their small and unusual extended family were here, so Dean would not be alone. It's better this way, safer for Dean…Sam justified to himself.

It was Sam that seemed to attract the Demon's attention. With him dead, he reasoned, there would be no need for the Demon to hunt his family. He had been responsible for so much loss: his mother and Jess's death, the loss of Dean's childhood and his chance of a normal life; the end of his father's happiness, the list just kept growing longer. And he would be damned if he would let his brother be added to it.

He smiled grimly as he ran. He was damned anyway.

At least this way he could atone. His bargain ensured Dean stayed alive, his soul guaranteeing his protection for a time to come. John would have his devoted son, his loyal hunter. Sam knew his father loved him, but he also knew that Dean was John's favourite.

Dean was a strong, skilled hunter, obedient and talented and he and John shared this bond, as well as their joint loss of Mary's death. He had never known his mother and sometimes felt more like a stranger looking in on his family as he and John had for years kept each other at arms length, their constant head-butting chipping away at the foundation of their relationship. Without Dean, they were unable to gain purchase, to find common ground as each pulled in the opposite direction from the other, and in doing so pulling their fractured family apart.

John ultimately blamed Sam for his mother's death, in Sam's mind. That was why he'd told him to leave and not come back, why he hadn't come when Dean when they were in Lawrence or Omaha. Because John blamed him. Dean didn't, though, and for that Sam was eternally grateful. But the telling silence in his and John's conversation in Salvation told the truth. Sam had declared he was the cause; the reason behind Mary and Jess's death. Dean had immediately refuted it, whereas John had said nothing.

So Dean and John continued to hunt with Sam with them as a liability. Not anymore.

Sam had deliberately picked this spot. It would be hard to find and was out of the way- close enough to the woods for his death to be believable as a bear attack. The weather had been exceptionally cold for this time of year, the winter had started early, and it was cold enough for bears to be venturing nearer the towns in their search of food. And Laurel had promised to provide the cover in case his demise was witnessed – after all he might as well get the most out of the bargain and use all of her talents; shaping reality, as Dean had discovered, was something at which a Reaper excelled.

Another tearing pain zigzagged across his chest and this time he felt a damp warmth soaking through his jacket.

Soon, he thought…

Just ahead he saw the slim silhouette of a woman. Movement to her right revealed another person, a man walking in the opposite direction.

Damn- just when I thought I was clear…

"Sam"She spoke softly and turned her brilliant eyes bright with unshed tears. Why was she crying?

"Are you ready?" She asked sadly. No, I'm only 23 years old; of course I'm not fucking ready!

"He's safe? You'll watch over my brother?" Dean, I'm scared…

"I will keep my part of the bargain." I'm sorry Dean, please forgive me…

"Then yes, I'm ready" Love you big brother…

A cry escaped him then as the pain spiralled, stealing away his breath, sweeping away any illusion he had that he could handle this alone. The physical pain was agonising but nothing close to the wrenching burn as his soul was torn away from him, his spirit scoured and severed from his dying shell of a body.

The scream that was unwilling ripped from him echoed through the night air, seeking out the one it would hurt most.

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Dean staggered as he heard his brother scream – the agony and anguish within it almost stopped his heart then and there. A cold emptiness spread through his stomach and an aching sense of loss unfurled in his chest. He knew even as his brother came in to sight, that he was too late.

Caleb flinched and erupted from his doze in front of the fire in Pastor Jim's study.

"Sam!"

"Caleb? What's wrong?" Jim looked shocked at the younger man's obvious terror.

"Shit, its Sam- we need to get outside – now."

Caleb staggered to his feet.

"Don't you fucking dare do this brat, or I swear I will drag you back myself" He growled.

"Don't you dare die on us now Sammy…" He whispered…

They came out the door in time to hear Sam's pain-filled cry.

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Dean could see the outline of a great lumbering beast crashing down from its hind legs in front of his brother, before shambling away - the bear -and a big one at that, said the small part of his mind, the pure hunter that was the only part of him existing right now. The part that was the brother was mesmerised by the sight of his sibling. The world around him was silent, invisible; the only thing he could focus on was his brother. Faltering and unsteady, Sam arched and twisted in pain, and then slowly began to topple. His brother was falling….

"Sam!" He screamed as the world once again came rushing back to him and he somehow found a burst of speed, the adrenaline pushing him past the limits his exhausted and terrified body was trying to enforce. He blanched as he somehow managed to catch his brother and they went down in the slippery snow in a tangle of legs and arms, Sam's torso slick and warm with blood.

Dean gently and quickly disentangled himself and turned his brother onto his back. His eyes widened in horror as he took in his brother's ravaged chest, his face normally so full of warmth and life, now grey, expressionless, his lips already turning blue. Sam's bright intelligent gaze had vanished. The deep, expressive intensity now hidden behind the glaze of death. Dean was too late.

Dean could faintly hear a sound in the distance - a pitiful keening noise, no, no, no, repeating over and over - and realised it was coming from him. He gathered his brother to him, resting Sam's head against him as he brushed the unruly bangs back from Sam's face, and gently pressed his cheek against Sam's forehead. "Sammy, no, please. Don't you do this. Don't leave me Sam"

Dean's world was crashing around him. How could this have happened? Why had Sam run off like that? After all they had been through, all the evil they had encountered and defeated and his brother was killed by an animal? No, he wouldn't accept it, he couldn't be dead. "Come on Sam, you can't go down like this…if you die it should be the fucking end of the world," it sure as hell is the end of mine "not some pointless bear attack. Dammit, Sam you come back this instant, you hear me?" Tears spilled from Dean's eyes, there was no need to be strong anymore - his baby brother was gone.

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Caleb and Father Jim paused a few feet from the brothers, held in place by the sheer devastation emanating from the elder brother. Caleb deliberating closed down his mind lest he by swept away under the torrent of grief, anger and hopelessness surging in waves from the bereft hunter. They stood in almost reverent silence as they watched Dean cradling his brother to him, cajoling, begging his Sam to come back to him. Even from this distance, though, it was clear that the injuries were just too severe. Poor kid was probably dead before he hit the ground.

They stood bearing witness to the tragedy unfolding before them, the unimaginable had happened. The Winchesters had lost their baby boy. Sam was dead.

-TBC

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A/N

Um…heck….um…ducks as rotten veg heads my way

Okay, before I am lynched – do you really think Dean would accept that Sam is dead?

And I'm a Sammy girl…so do you really think I would accept it lol! Unless I am really evil…rubs hands…

So….please let me know what you think…runs and hides…

Don't worry- I'll think of something…I hope….

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