Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural in any way, shape, or form

The weak can never forgive. Forgiveness is an attribute of the strong - Mahatma Gandhi

Sam has made it until two am, which was respectable. Dean didn't even think that the kid would make it that long. The two of them had been pushed into the small bedroom that they shared by Jim after he had checked out Dean's lip and given him a few Motrin.

"But Jim," Dean had whined as the pastor pushed him from the bathroom towards the bedroom, "come on, this isn't fair."

"Life," Jim said hurriedly, "is not fair." He smiled wearily at the young teen. "Believe me, Dean, you really don't want to witness this one."

Dean grumbled as he sat down on the bed, pressing the bag of ice to his lip. Sam gazed up at the pastor imploringly with all of the innocence a seven-year-old face could possess.

"Is Caleb going to leave?"

Jim sighed, running his fingers through his thinning hair. "I don't know, Sammy," he murmured. "I just don't know." Lacking any other source of wisdom, he pointed double bed. "Try to get some rest." Both boys began to get under the covers before he turned around, a wry smile on his face. "Of course," he said, "I know that as soon as I close this door the two of you are going to leap out of bed and press your ears against the door anyway, so I'll leave the light on so you don't trip on anything. Be sure to turn it off once you're situated, lest John find out." He winked and shut the door behind him as Sam giggled.

The two of them catapulted out of bed and once Sam was seated up against the door, Dean reached over and flicked off the light.

They listened to voices roar, the sounds of scuffles, the sounds of Jim yelling for everyone to calm down, and something that sounded strangely like a lamp breaking before the clock struck two and Sam fell asleep on Dean's lap.

Dean waited another hour before he shook his brother awake. "Sammy," he whispered, "come on, get into bed."

Sam rubbed his eyes. "Is it over?"

Dean shook his head. "Nah, they've still got a few rounds to go."

"I'm awake, I'm awake."

Dean smiled and patted the mattress. "C'mon Kiddo, you're tired, get into bed."

Sam sighed and stood up, clambering into the bed while Dean remained by the door.

Nearly ten minutes of silence passed before Sam whispered, "Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"Merry Christmas."

Dean sighed. "Merry Christmas, Sammy."

With that, he crawled into bed after his brother, dozing on and off until about four in the morning when the door creaked open.

"Dean?" a voice whispered.

Dean sat up, slightly groggy. "Caleb?"

Caleb opened the door a little wider. "C'mon, come outside."

Dean glanced over at Sam who was still dead asleep before he pushed himself out of bed and followed Caleb silently through the darkened house and outside to the front porch where Caleb sat down in a plastic chair, groaning and pushing his hands over his eyes.

Dean wrapped his arms around his body and sat down in the other chair. "Caleb, it's freezing."

Suddenly Caleb seemed to snap out of something, and he glanced over at Dean. "Let me see your lip."

"Caleb, it's nothing."

"Dean this isn't a question, it's an order. Now let me see that lip."

Dean sighed and leaned closer for Caleb to inspect. He let out a low whistle. "I'm sorry, dude."

Dean smirked. "You looked like you just went twelve rounds with a block of cement and you're apologizing to me?"

Caleb laughed and rubbed his face, wincing. "Yeah, I guess." He looked up at the stars with a sort of wisdom and even oldness on his face that has no place being near a sixteen-year-old's face.

"Are you going to leave?" Dean whispered, and Caleb turned. He didn't miss how tiny Dean's voice sounded, how scared he seemed. For the first time in many years, Caleb couldn't help but marvel at how very small Dean seemed. He sighed.

"I don't know," he said, wiping at his runny nose with his fingers. "I mean…your Dad is still pretty angry with me, and I've…I've screwed up a lot of things here, Kiddo. I don't know if I can stay."

"Joshua wants you to stay?"

"Joshua wants me to do a lot of things, to be a lot of things." Caleb sighed and shook his head. "Joshua's a dick."

Dean gazed out into the field as well. "Yeah," he agreed, "he is."

"He doesn't mean to be," Caleb said, pulling at the fraying ends of his sweatshirt sleeves. "I mean, he always thinks that he's doing what's right. When we were kids, he was always trying to do the right thing…he would always just end up a little short, though, you know?"

Dean licked his lips and drew his body in, trying to ignore the chilly air. "Doesn't mean that he has to be such an asswipe to everyone."

Caleb glanced over. "Sammy likes him."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Sam is seven. He likes anyone who brings chocolate when he visits.

Caleb laughed but then his features returned to seriousness. "Listen, Dean," he said. "I don't know how much longer I'm going to be around here, so I need for you to promise me something."

Dean nodded.

"Watch out for Sammy, alright?" He chuckled. "If I had been given an older brother like you…hell, if Joshua had even been a fraction of what you are…well, I would have been way better off than I am today, Kiddo." He reached into his pocket for a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He flipped it open and pulled out a cigarette, and then gave the young boy a stern look. "You even think about lighting up or shooting something without me telling you to, I'll have you on the ground so fast you won't even know what hit you."

Dean laughed. "You know, you're going to have to stick around here if you want to make good on that one."

Caleb sighed, taking a puff of the cigarette. "What do you know, Kiddo?" he said. "I guess I do."

He thumped Dean twice on the shoulder. "Go back to bed. Your Dad is angry enough with me already, if he catches me out here with you…well, let's just say it won't be a pretty picture."

Dean smiled and gave Caleb a little wave before he opened the door and slipped back inside. Once he closed the door, he didn't even bother trying to be quiet – he sprinted into the bedroom and hopped onto the bed. "Sammy!" he whispered excitedly, grabbing his younger brother by the shoulder and giving him a slight shake. "Sammy!"

Sam rolled over, eyes flying open. "I didn't fall asleep, I've just been resting my eyes," he said quickly with a yawn. Dean rolled his eyes knowingly, but wasn't deterred.

"Caleb isn't leaving."

Sam sat up, rubbing at his eyes. "Really?"

"Yeah Kiddo," he whispered. He smiled as he climbed into bed, whispering, "Merry Christmas, Sammy."

Caleb jumped when the front door opened again and John came out. He slowly closed the front door and limped over to the plastic chair, easing himself into it and moaning as he jarred his leg. He lifted it up and set his foot on the porch rail so his leg was elevated and leaned back.

Unsure of what to do, Caleb offered him a cigarette.

"I hate smoking."

Caleb nodded. "Right," he mumbled, quickly stamping out his own cigarette.

John sighed. "Joshua gone?"

Caleb nodded. "Yeah. Don't even think he stopped to take his super-tooth-whitening-toothpaste on the way out."

John whistled. "Wow. That's a whole lot of dedication from Josh." The two of them laughed, but awkwardly, as if they weren't quite sure exactly what to say or do or even think in each other's presence. John ran his fingers through his hair and sighed.

"Look, Caleb," he said. "I'm…I'm…"

"You know what?" Caleb said suddenly. "I know that you're going to try and apologize and I'm going to try and apologize, so let's just save each other a lot of pain, forgive, and forget."

John laughed. "Sounds good."

Caleb smirked and then his face hardened a little. "Josh was right," he sighed. "He said we'd kiss and make up." Caleb rolled his eyes. "I hate it when he's right. I mean, it's not frequent or anything, but when he's right it's so annoying."

John nodded. "That's brothers for you." He turned to the teenager. "You know, Caleb, a brother…it's a special thing, alright? You've got one brother out there in this whole world, you have to make it count with him, kid."

Caleb shook his head. "Yeah, that can work for Sam and Dean, but not for me and Josh."

John frowned.

"The wounds between us, they run too deep." Caleb sighed and shook his head. "I mean, when I was ten years old he just took off. He was just younger than I am, he'd barely been sixteen for an hour before he climbed out the bedroom window and left me with Dad, who isn't the definition of model citizen. I mean, the guy honestly did not care what I did or when I did it, but if he was in a bad mood he wouldn't hesitate to just start beating the crap out of me."

John grip on the armrest of the plastic chair tightened. "I'm sorry."

"Josh had pretty much been taking care of everything, so once he was gone there was really no one there…just me and my old man, and we never talked unless he was drunk. Before I knew it I was drinking too, which lead to the smoking, which led to the drugs…"

"Which led to those punk friends of yours daring you to go into a confessional and tell Jim that you raped your neighbor's gerbil?"

Caleb chuckled before he said, "And I picked Jim's and ended up here. And then Joshy-poo showed up one day and it turns out that my idiot of a brother was a damn fine hunter."

John looked over. "You're a damn fine good hunter yourself, Caleb."

Caleb sighed. "So I just spilled my side of the story to you, 'Chester." John threw him a dark look but let it slide, and Caleb pressed on, "So tell me – what was it that you and Josh fought about, that broke your little dynamic duo up?"

John's eyebrows crept towards his hairline. "He never told you?"

Caleb guffawed. "Oh, I asked him, but with our great communication skills? He'd just punch me in the shoulder, tell me to shut up."

John nodded slowly. "Well if he didn't tell you, then I'm not telling you."

"What?" Caleb exploded. "Come on, that's a rip!"

John folded and unfolded his hands and gazed up at the stars. "A man gets to have his secrets, Caleb."

Caleb sighed. "You know, you really piss me off sometimes."

John laughed. "Well, that makes two of us then, kid."

Caleb snorted. "And that stupid line about secrets? Totally chick flick, 'Chester."

John's head snapped towards Caleb and he offered him a dark scowl. "I don't do chick flick, boy." He groaned and pulled his legs down from the railing, standing up. "Well this old goat is going to bed, and so are you."

Caleb chuckled and the words 'yeah right' were on his lips before John gave him the hard, drill sergeant glare and he stood up, saluted sharply, and belted, "Sir yes sir, Gunnery Sergeant Hartman!"

"Shut up and go sleep," John mumbles working hard to restrain a laugh. "And if you ever think of showing that to Sam or Dean…"

Caleb made a face and laughed. "You're kidding, right? You swear a blue streak day and night but you won't let them watch a movie?"

"It's not the content," John said as he slowly opened the door, "I just don't need anyone else calling me Ermey."

He was halfway inside, leaving Caleb sniggering on the porch, when he stopped.

"Caleb?"

"Yeah?" the teen answered softly.

"You know that no matter now much I like you, there's still going to be fucking hell to pay for wrecking my car."

Caleb nodded. "Yeah, I know."

John sighed. "Night, Caleb," he murmured, letting the screen door bang shut behind him.