Title: Marked Time

By: Tidia

Disclaimer: Same as in Part 1

Beta: That Girl Six

Notes: Thank you for Ridley for helping on this part and being a good cheerleader. Thank you for the notes, the reviews and the alerts! We are hard at work on our stories!

Part 4

Thin little scratches trickled red, then split open, gushing purple, red liquid…

"Deuce!"

The nightmare awoke him again as he heaved in gulps of air. The image of the Hellhounds slicing into Dean's body reverberated through his mind, leaving him shaky. He swung his legs out of the sheets, wiping down his mouth before standing. The door between the rooms was ajar, and blearily Caleb went into the room.

Dean slept, safe and whole in the motel bed. As Caleb watched the younger man sleep, he felt guilty — not for doing his job and watching over Dean, but for keeping secrets from him. Caleb had taken the amulet from the farm, then used it. It had saved Dean; he didn't regret it. On the other hand, Dean did not know the full extent of the amulet's ability, how Caleb had been able to possess demons. But even under the weight of the guilt that filled the room with his thoughts, Dean slept on, admirably dealing with his own demons even while trying to make sure Sam and Caleb remained intact. He had made sure Sam had gone on the date, and then had given him the art set in encouragement of the future, the future he hoped they would find in Pennsylvania with the Romany providing a way out of Dean's deal.

Caleb noticed Sam's bed was not slept in. He felt the need to talk to Dean, wanting to tell him the truth and use Sam as an excuse to assuage his conscience.

"Deuce?" he whispered, hoping Dean wouldn't awaken.

"Go back to sleep, Damien." Dean didn't move, his words mumbled into his pillow. "I know Sam's not in yet — let him have a good time."

"Yeah, I know he's fine." His warning system as The Knight, along with his psychic abilities, would have told him if Sam was in trouble. He swallowed, but started his confession before he could change his mind. "I did something stupid."

"I'm listening," Dean replied to the darkness, still not moving. He knew as well as Caleb that the late hour never brought good news. They had come in only an hour earlier, both having spent the night in the company of others and meeting at the door with twin grins.

Caleb was glad for the darkness that allowed him to avoid looking directly into Dean's eyes. "I took Noah Seaver's amulet from the farm." The Guardian was the owner of the antiquities; and worse, Dean had entrusted Caleb specifically to take care of the amulet. Further than that, Dean trusted him to take care of Sam and himself. The reveal brought only limited relief, but he was scared to admit more so found the quickest cop out he could come up with that wouldn't sound like fear. "Get some rest; I know you had a long night with Jenny." They had both sowed their oats — loose women were a Godsend, although Pastor Jim would disagree. "We'll talk more in the morning." He backed away, losing his nerve to admit he had given in to his demon side.

"Damien, I'm awake." Dean turned over, crossing his arms under his head. "I know you made a deal with the devil. You took the amulet to trade it for me."

Caleb felt another jab of guilt; he was going to have to explain the abilities of the amulet, and how it had affected him. "No…I mean I took it before that — after Wyoming."

"I'm not going to like this, am I?"

Caleb blamed Dean for wanting to know more, even though he knew that he would feel the same. They had all put enough pressure on each other over the years when it was obvious that there was more to a story. This time, it was Dean who deserved to know the rest. "No, probably not."

Dean pushed himself up, turning on the light on the nightstand. "Did you use it?"

"Yes," he answered, taking a seat on Sam's made bed. He rubbed the back of his head, waiting for Dean to say something more.

"What the fuck were you thinking? If I didn't feel the need to tiptoe around you and Sam, then I would . . ." Dean pounded his hand against the pillow.

If there wasn't a deadline looming, then there would be conflict between Dean and Caleb. It wasn't like either of them to let something go that quickly. The psychic realized he was in fact truly getting off easily, though Dean had a long memory and in the future, after they got him out of the deal, it could come back to haunt him. "I wasn't thinking. I just knew that I needed to save you…I think you can relate." Sacrificing, it was what they did well.

Dean swung his legs over the side, facing his friend. "Are you crazy? You had no clue what that thing might do."

Caleb licked his lips, the realization of his foolishness at using the amulet hitting him again. "I had an idea, and all the research I did said it could be used by demons to possess other demons, use their abilities."

Dean shook his head. "You say that like it's a fucking good thing."

"At the time I thought it was." Caleb had since regretted the decision — not the attempt to save his friend, but the chance he'd taken, the position he placed Sam in.

"That pisses me off even more. You knew what it could do and still used it." Dean ran a hand through his hair. "Shit. That's why you looked like hell."

"It worked." Caleb couldn't deny the fact. He gestured to the still-existing marks on Dean's arms from the drugs that Rose had given him. They looked like innocuous white scaly patches, but they were much more. "Whatever fucked up DNA I have, it served its purpose. I possessed an upper level demon so Sammy and I could get you out of Rose's hell hole." He swallowed thickly, remembering how Rose had almost turned the tables on them. "I thought I could possess the demon who holds your contract, but Rose pointed out the holes in that theory."

Dean clenched his jaw. "Where is it now?"

"Gone. I told you after you came to that we destroyed it." It had been hard to close that door and believe the evidence presented. The plan would never work. He had wasted time they just didn't have.

"Are you sure about that?"

"Deuce…" He recognized the doubt in the green gaze and hated that his actions put it there, that he might have done more damage than good.

"Swear it."

Caleb twisted the ring on his finger. "I swear. Sam put his typical logical spin on it, made me destroy it after we knew you were out of the woods."

"Good. Sam did good keeping you in check."

"Yeah. He's practically the little angel on my shoulder." Caleb wasn't going to point out the fact that Sam had helped him or kept his secret. Sam would have to choose if and when to discuss his own issues with his brother because he was keeping a secret all his own.

Dean clenched his right hand and bounced it off the mattress. "Stop doing stupid shit to save me, Caleb. Make sure my brother doesn't do the same. How do you think I could pick up the pieces if I was safe but you or Sam were darkside?"

Sam had told him before that Dean was worried about them giving in to the evil. He hadn't realized how pressing it was for the other hunter. "We're saving you."

"But I don't want you losing yourselves in the process. This isn't just about me – and you're going to have to believe me. That up close personal time with Rose gave me lots of time to think things through." Dean rubbed his head.

Caleb had no idea what Dean meant. He hadn't spoken about his time with Rose. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah, yeah, get a grip and tell your cohort the same thing. If you're going to save me, then do it right or don't do it at all." Dean lay back down on the bed. "Go to sleep. And stop checking to see if I'm breathing, too. Next thing, you'll have a mirror under my nose. . ."

Caleb stood. "Mirror under your nose?" The older hunter didn't understand.

"When Sam was a baby. . .never mind." Dean got a look on his face, but quickly shook it off, raised his hand, then moved it to shut off the light. "I've had a hard night. Jenny was something else. . .We're good, Damien."

Caleb hesitated. "Dean…"

Dean turned to sleep on his side.

Caleb smiled into the night. "Swear it?"

Dean sighed and turned over again. "You want a pinky promise, bitch?"

"Your word's good enough for me."

"Same here."

Caleb nodded. "Good. Because Jenny's friend was a wildcat. Two words: bite marks." He pattered back off to bed, feeling he was going to have an hour of uninterrupted sleep by ridding himself of the weighing guilt.

After the sun had risen, the door in the other room clicked closed. Caleb remained in bed, listening to the brothers in the other room, enjoying overhearing the conversation like he used to do when he was younger, back when the conversation wasn't about women.

"Look at what the cat dragged in," Dean started in on Sam so that Caleb could hear the face-splitting grin on the inquisitor's face.

"We watched the sunrise" came Sam's reply.

"Really," Dean answered.

"Yes really, and even if anything else happened, I'm not telling you." It sounded like Sam had reverted into a teenager.

"You suck." Dean had also regressed.

Caleb was amused, interrupting the brothers by speaking loudly as he got out of bed. "Deuce, how good could his stories be? I'm the one with the lost weekend with. . ." He began his story about the supermodel.

"Go back to sleep," Dean ordered when he saw Caleb at the adjoining door. Sam was sitting on his bed, fully dressed. Dean was relaxed against the headboard.

"Did you take care of it?" Sam asked, his eyes going between his brother and Caleb.

"Of course we took care of it," Dean replied as he kicked off his blankets.

"So?" Caleb prompted Sam to talk about his date with Clara. It was fun to try to embarrass the younger hunter. "How did it go?"

"Fine." Sam rolled his eyes.

"She's the type that cries at road kill, isn't she?" Dean quipped, joining in to get a reaction from his brother.

Caleb saw Sam shaking his head. "You're not going to tell us?"

"Nope."

"Dude, that's, like, totally uncool." Dean stood, going to his bag to pick up some clothes.

Sam snorted, then lay back on the bed. "Who the hell were you with? Valley Girl much?"

Dean sniffed a shirt then shrugged, accepting it. "Like we're going to tell you."

"They were sisters," Caleb started, rubbing his chest. His t-shirt was covering the love bites.

"Cousins," Dean corrected before he shuffled off into the bathroom with a pile of clothes. Caleb guessed that meant they were going to start the day early. Sam seemed to be dozing off fully clothed.

"Last night I told Dean." Caleb remained standing over Sam's bed, waiting for a reaction.

"Told him what?"

"About the amulet. Everything."

Sam opened his eyes, then jutted his chin at Caleb. "Good for you. I know it was bothering you."

Caleb didn't know where along the line Sam had gained a hardness about him. Yes, hunters were not supposed to be sensitive, but Sam's emotions had always been an asset to him. There was now a void, and Caleb was scared to even probe it. "Be good if you could get rid of that secret."

"I'm not talking about Clara." Sam shifted with a sigh, then closed his eyes, trying to melt into the metallic threaded bedspread.

Caleb could hazard many guesses about the secret. There were clues from Sam's own mouth, not from where his mind secured the matter. This had something to do with the Yellow-Eyed Demon. Then there had been the amulet. It had changed under Sam's touch. "You know that's not what I'm talking about."

Sam rolled to his side, away from Caleb. "I'm going to get a quick nap while you two get ready."

Caleb shook his head. What he could sense from Sam was a growing fear, and it was more than fear of losing Dean. It was the same fear Caleb had felt with the amulet — fear of losing himself. As much as he hated to admit it, Caleb was relying on Sam to be steadfast and logical, and the younger hunter couldn't afford to become unhinged because he was hiding some demon connection.

Caleb hoped he had time for at least a twenty minute shower with Dean having to clean up, and then Sam would want to do the same. Twenty minutes would give him some time to clear his head. So when he got the chance, he concentrated on shaving, not anything outside his own little world until there was pounding on the door.

"Get out here. We've got company," Dean announced.

Caleb's hair was still damp as he wiped away the remnants of shaving cream from his chin. Their guest was ringing his hands, standing in the middle of the room. "Mr. Francis?"

"We were going to stop later and check on if there were any more ghostly activities," Dean explained, he and Sam giving the other man as wide a berth as possible.

Mr. Francis covered his face with his hands. "It didn't work."

"Pardon me?" Caleb frowned as he looked towards the brothers in confusion.

"That digging up the grave and salting it, and then lighting it on fire?" Mr. Francis kept one hand on his face and gestured with the other one.

Sam elbowed his brother, but Dean ignored him. "What are you talkin' about?"

"You're hunters — members of The Brotherhood, from the rings you are wearing. I'm honored, by the way."

Dean pulled out a chair and pushed Mr. Francis into it.

Sam looked at Caleb, then Dean. Caleb and Dean both wore rings and never thought that it was noticeable to others that there was a connection. "We aren't — "

"Give it up, Sam." Dean waved his brother off. "What's going on? Our friends were here twenty years ago. . ."

Mr. Francis bowed his head. "I remember them. I lied before. I am sorry."

Caleb was taken aback. Jim had been here. They had found a link to their missing friend. They were few and far between, which made this job that much more precious and confusing. "So are you going to tell us more of the truth now?"

Mr. Francis looked up. "People come to the house to die. Normally some hunter comes, burns the bones, and ends the haunting."

It was a weird set-up. "So you arrange to be haunted?" Caleb could not fathom why someone would want a ghost running loose in a home. Unsettled spirits caused problems.

"And you get tourists," Sam filled in with a shake of his head.

"Exactly," Mr. Francis affirmed.

"Capitalism at its best." Caleb felt there was more to the story, but couldn't get a reading that said anything different. He didn't believe mass brainwashing was involved.

They were all pondering the situation, since to his recollection no other hunter had been in a similar situation. Even Bobby and Jim had dealt with their errant spirit. The door knocking broke the silence.

"Now who?" Dean asked with a growl.

Sam shrugged his shoulders and opened the door. "Clara?"

"Sam." She pinked up when he said her name and gave him a smile until she looked further into the room. "Mr. Francis?"

"At least someone should come over with a cup of coffee," Dean muttered, with which Caleb had to agree. Caffeine was needed to help them.

"It didn't work." Mr. Francis directed the comment to Clara before covering his eyes with his hand.

"Bummer. Has that ever happened before?" Clara cocked her head so her hair spilled over to one side, but it was strangely balanced by the rest of her outfit: a turquoise blue one-piece pants set which zippered up the front and had flared pant legs.

"No," Mr. Francis squeaked.

Clara nodded. "Gotcha. I'm going to call Mom and Dad. Just don't freak out." She held her hands up to placate Mr. Francis as she moved to the in-room phone.

"You know about us, too?" Sam asked quietly.

She nodded as she tucked the phone between her shoulder and ear. "That you're hunters? You bet your sweet bippy, Sam. We need your help." She then spoke into the phone.

Caleb shared a look with Dean. Sam couldn't do one night stands well. She was quirky, slightly geeky, and good-looking. Sam and she went together, and Caleb thought it was a bonus she knew about their line of work. There would be no messy conversations like Dean's with Cassie all those years ago. For himself, Caleb didn't believe in long-lasting relationships with women. That didn't mean he couldn't still believe in one for Sam or even Dean.

Dean reached out and squeezed his brother's shoulder. Sam shrugged. "I am so confused."

"Usually they go away, but she's mean, mean I tell you," Mr. Francis mumbled.

Caleb brushed a hand through his hair. They had lost complete control of the situation, especially when the motel owners showed up at the door ringing their hands, and the general murmur level increased tenfold.

"Everyone chill," Dean announced, taking center stage. "You've been jerking hunters around for a hundred years, and now you want our help? You purposefully set up to haunt a house. That's dangerous, people."

Clara looked ready to speak, but Dean silenced her with his hand. "We're going to help you. But you need to leave. Leave and come back with food, then leave again. I think you guys have done enough."

Walter cleared his throat, waited until Dean nodded his permission to speak. "Do you have an idea about what might be causing Widow Francis to stay?"

Sam turned his head to his brother as well as Caleb. It was a Guardian moment in which they were looking for some direction. Pastor Jim had had the same effect. "She left something behind," Dean answered, his eyes drifting to Mr. Francis.

"Me — I'm her son," he squeaked as he stood up and backed into Caleb.

The psychic steadied him. "Usually we have to get rid of what a spirit leaves behind."

"For crying out loud! I don't want to die." Mr. Francis wrenched himself from Caleb's hands.

Caleb had reached his frustration point, and since Mr. Francis was the nearest target, he shook the smaller man. "You're not going to die, not yet. You need to give us some time to think of a plan. Can you do that?"

"Fair enough." Mr. Francis neatened his mustached. "I don't think you're giving me a bum steer."

"I'll walk you back," Clara volunteered.

"Clara, I — " Sam started with an unreadable emotion.

She gave him a smile. "I'm not dropping out. I'll be back."

Finally they were alone, and they looked in varying degrees of disheveled. Sam was perplexed, Dean was frowning, and Caleb was still damp from his shower.

"That feeling that there is more going on than we know?" Caleb looked beyond the two brothers and out the window as Walter, his wife, Clara, and Mr. Francis crossed the parking lot.

"Yeah?" Dean asked, pulling a chair and turning it around to sit in it.

"I still have it. We're missing a part of the puzzle." The townspeople had been honest, telling them they had lured the hunters and tourists to the area, but still something didn't feel right. He had tried to read their minds, but there had been no red flag.

"Well, they asked for help, so we'll help and see what else we can figure out." Dean looked at his brother, waiting for an acknowledgement. Sam sighed. "I think we need to take a page out of Duran's book."

"Duran?" Sam sat down on the bed, his focus back on to the hunt.

"That bastard never had a good idea." Caleb wondered what scheme Dean had thought up; using something Hughes had done did not sound like a good idea.

Dean raised his eyebrows. "Séance."

Jim had frowned upon them, as did Mackland. A séance was gathered with the express purpose to communicate with the spirit of a departed person. A psychic or medium like Duran was used to bridge the two worlds. Caleb immediately crossed his arms over his chest. "I've never done one. Maybe there's another way. . ."

Dean shook his head. "Can't burn the house. She's connected to it because of her son, and we can't kill him. He loves Gwendolyn, so he's going to have to make that clear to Mom." Dean gave a wide grin. "And yes, Sam, I know weddings make you cry."

"A wedding?" Caleb didn't understand where Dean was going with this plan and, quite frankly, was starting to wonder if in fact he did have a serious concussion.

"I know they make you tear up, too." Dean mockingly wiped away a fake tear.

Caleb shivered; the idea of being tied down was contrary to him. It was like the wolf gnawing its leg to get out of the trap. "For good reason: I feel sorry for the sap."

"Anyway, we invite Mom to the wedding. What could possibly go wrong?" Dean crossed his arms as if he had explained everything.

Sam rolled his eyes. "The fact that we don't have a bride or groom."

"Pfft." Dean waved away the legitimate issue. "You're going to do some research on séances while we talk to Gwendolyn. I'm guessin' you shouldn't believe the hype and that she's a one guy woman. Just seems like she got a reputation from the way she looks, and I need my trusty psychic sidekick so we can say exactly the right thing."

"Hey!" Caleb called attention to himself, but was ignored by the boys. He wasn't the 'sidekick'; he was The Knight. Twenty years in John Winchester's indentured servitude had earned him his way out of sidekick status a long time ago.

"I can do some research on the internet, and Clara mentioned the library," Sam stated as he leaned over and picked up the little sign announcing wireless internet throughout the room.

Caleb was being pulled out of the room by Dean, who was wagging his finger at his brother. "And don't you get any ideas of hooking up with Clara until after you research."

"Jerk," Sam replied.

"Bitch."

"I'm being used for my mind, not my body." Caleb shook his head. He was well aware he was handsome, and this had an effect on females. He only used his psychic abilities secondarily when it came to talking to a pretty woman.

Dean snorted. "Live with it."