Jim

Patience was an emotion best suited for an unburdened mind. It was something that was required of him in order to withstand the rigors of a demanding job, and service the people who came through his doors. Patience was usually a habit of response that came easily to the unshakable pastor. However, he had the distinct feeling that his uncanny ability to remain calm, would finally be tested.

Staring at the phone that was still clutched in his hand, he could not comprehend the call he just received from a prosecutor in Medina. The small town Caleb was scouring for signs of a shifter. According to the unbelievable statement from this man, Caleb was being charged with murder in relation to the death of the victim.

Words simply failed the usually upright pastor while he processed the startling information that was delivered to him. There was no use in telling this man that Caleb would be the last person who would commit this crime. His opinion of his friend was already set, and there was little Jim could do to change his mind.

His first thought (once the use of his mind returned), was how he would make the arrangements to be in Medina. The town was not far from their cozy life in the rural part of Minnesota, and was easily able to be found past the interstate. The traveling portion of the arrangements, would not be an issue. The question of how much the boys would be involved, was the sticking point he was agonizing over.

Sam was nearly nine years old, and had already been exposed to some of the horrors in the world. It was something he was growing used to after finding his father's journal, but Jim wondered how he would react to the knowledge of his guardian landing in jail.

No doubt Sam would be confused, and would wonder why this was happening when he knew what a kind heart Caleb possessed. Thinking about his friend, it blew his mind that anyone could harbor those thoughts about him. The charge that packed the devastating punch of landing him in prison for the rest of his life. That was an outcome that was not an option for them.

His mind was in shambles as he reached for the essentials that were in his sight. His body, however, seemed to know what to do. Placing his travel bag on the edge of his oak desk, he barely cared about organization while he tossed clothes and weapons into the bag. The things he would take with him, was the same every time he went away.

It was not until his eyes landed on a picture of a younger, smiling Dean that his thoughts made the leap over to the boy. The child would be heartbroken to walk into the house after a successful hunt, and be slammed with the unfairness of Caleb being jailed. The task of telling the boys, was not lost on him.

Caleb was the one who had been a near constant fixture in their lives since John vanished. He was the one who could always be counted on to give a tight hug, and a word of encouragement to them. The loss of that crucial support, would be catastrophic to Sam and Dean when they barely made it through the loss of their parents.

Glancing around his bedroom once more to make sure he did not leave something, he resigned himself to the idea of jumping into the next disaster to hit their family. In a way, the sense of urgency he had about making it to Medina, made him long for a simpler time before the phone rang.

The house was silent; nothing unusual when he remembered that a few members of his family were missing. Taking the stairs two at a time, his mind was on Caleb's arraignment. According to the prosecutor, Caleb would be charged with one count of first degree murder for the killing of Lexa Branch. After that, he would be slapped with a charge for 'attempting to destroy evidence.'

His mind, usually busy during the best circumstances, was almost numb with stress and grief for his friend. Thinking about Caleb being forced to endure a lengthy trial and the public scrutiny that went along with it, occupied Jim's mind while his soft eyes searched the house for Sam or Bobby. Dean was not due back for another few minutes, and already Jim was dreading having to tell him.

Out of everyone who lived in the house, Sam and Dean shared a beautiful relationship with each other. Caleb and Dean also had an equally powerful bond with one another that sometimes enabled Dean to get through some of the more challenging times in his life. How was he supposed to cope with the truth that his guardian was in jail for murder?

Spared from his thoughts when Bobby chose that time to enter the kitchen, he saw his sharp eyes take notice of the bags Jim had in his hands. If the boys promised to be upset about the news of Caleb's arrest, how would Bobby take it?

"Going on a trip?"

"I guess you could say that," Jim relented with a sigh.

Bobby stared at him, clearly understanding there was something wrong with his friend. Finding the words needed to tell him, would be difficult for the pastor.

"You might want to let me know ahead of time, idjit. I have a busy schedule." The tone of Bobby's voice betrayed the lie.

"Bobby," Jim said, making the bold move of putting his hand on his shoulder, knowing how Bobby felt about physical contact. "It's Caleb."

That one statement seemed to shake Bobby from his irritation. His eyes registered shock, before they settled on quiet acceptance. It did not take a genius to know Bobby assumed the worst happened.

"Is he...is he dead?"

It momentarily took Jim aback to hear the uncharacteristic brokenness that permeated Bobby's tone at the thought of something happening to one of them. Although his mind was in a perpetual fog over what he heard from the prosecutor, he retained enough control to shake his head. At the very least, he could assure his friend that they were not going through another loss.

When Bobby realized that the worst had not happened, Jim saw him visibly deflate as though a balloon popped. It made breaking the news about Caleb's arrest, that much harder.

"He's in jail. Murder."

In the world they lived in, it was not uncommon to be faced with inquiries from the police. It happened when they either slipped up, or when a supernatural creature framed them. When Jim connected that to what Caleb was going through, he felt an icy chill travel down his spine.

Bobby, on the other hand, had a much different reaction. Once he had the chance to let that startling piece of news sink into his brain, he shook his head with his mouth open. A murder charge was not something that would be easy to escape from. Not when the evidence was as damning as the prosecutor made it seem.

"Balls!" Bobby swore. "What do those sons of-"

Jim could sympathize with Bobby's anger toward the justice system for what their friend was going through, but he also knew this was one instance where they had no other option. As hard as it was, Jim knew how damning a shifter case appeared.

"Bobby, it's not their fault. Not this time. If this prosecutor is to be believed, they have a solid case against him. The forensic evidence they have is being examined right now."

"What evidence do they have?" Bobby sputtered.

"They have a bloody knife, clothes that have the same thing, and they also have him pinned with attempting to destroy evidence."

The realness of the situation was not lost on either of them. They all dealt with police before during different instances, and always managed to skate by. Now that a shifter upped the ante, and pinned a violent murder on their friend, the stakes had been raised impossibly high.

Bobby was still angry; still silently seething. Jim could not blame him when they already had a lot to worry about. Having this thrown into their laps, was the last thing they needed. The confusion and uncertainty was the hardest part to contend with. They had no clue when (or even if) they would get the chance to see Caleb.

"What was he hunting?" Bobby voiced, running a hand through his hair.

"A shifter."

"Damn things," Bobby groused. "They always frame these poor fools for their dirty work."

That was the problem. A shifter hunt always promised to be riskier than other hunts, because of the terrifying aspect of the monster adopting the physical likeness of the person. Although Caleb was an expert at these hunts, even he could not have escaped from the clutches of a trap.

"His arraignment is in two days. I want to be there for it."

There may have been nothing he could have done to prevent Caleb's arrest, but he was determined to be there in support of his friend. Looking down at the travel bags that were resting on the ground, he could not wrap his mind around how he was supposed to tell the boys.

"How are you going to break it to the kiddos?"

"I'm not sure yet. With Sam, it will be easier."

At the very least, Sam would be young enough to not completely grasp the seriousness of what Caleb was facing. Sam was exceptionally bright for someone so young, but Jim hoped his mind could be guarded against the atrocity of what was happening.

"What about Dean?" Bobby voiced, understanding their bond better than anyone.

"That will be hard."

Distracted from his train of thought when he heard Sam jump down the stairs, he palmed his face when he thought about telling him. When the eight-year-old thundered into the kitchen with the research book Jim gave him, he could see his face stretch into a grin.

Sam was initially resistant to the idea of learning the supernatural while he struggled to adapt to what his family did. After awhile, Jim noticed he began to open up to the idea of training and learning what he could about their lives. One of the first gifts Jim gave to him, was a book that dealt with some of the more common urban legends that were all proven to be true.

Not to anyone's surprise, Sam soaked up the information like a sponge.

Placing a smile on his face for Sam's benefit, he could see his eyes shift to the bags on the floor, and the troubled look on his guardian's face. Once again, the pastor was reminded of just how intelligent the eight-year-old was when he was able to pick up the smallest cues that signaled to him that something was wrong.

Gesturing for Sam to follow him over to the kitchen chair where they could talk in a more comfortable setting, he could see Sam's shoulders hunch the way they did when he was preparing himself for something bad. Wishing more than anything that he could spare Sam the knowledge of having to know this sort of thing, he took a seat and pulled Sam into his lap.

The child instantly settled against his guardian, and seemed happy to play with the pages of the aged book that was still clasped in his hand. Looking at Bobby before he took the book from the boy to guarantee his full attention, he could see the question in Sam's eyes. How was he supposed to shatter his innocence? How was he supposed to dump yet another life-changing problem on his shoulders?

"What's wrong?" Sam asked, squirming uncomfortably on his lap.

Jim arched an eyebrow in pleasant curiosity. "What makes you think there's something wrong?"

Sam rolled his eyes, looking at Jim as though he thought he was stupid for not picking up on the knowledge that he was smarter than most people gave him credit for. If the situation had not been as severe as it was, Jim would have laughed at the outraged expression on his face.

"I'm not stupid," Sam pointed out. "You're upset about something. Plus, you have those bags."

"That's very true," Jim conceded, tightening his hold on the boy. "That's because something's happened."

"Something bad?" Sam guessed, his eyes flicking to Bobby.

Jim nodded hesitantly, fully aware of the hell on earth he would be bringing down on his family. Looking out the window toward the sliver of front yard that was visible from the kitchen, he felt his heart descend into his stomach when he saw Matt's truck pull in.

Dean would be devastated to hear about Caleb, and the hunter was at an even more of a loss to think of a way to tell him. Shifting his gaze to Bobby, he could see the concern in his eyes of what was going to happen. Shaking his head, willing himself to think of one problem at a time, he looked back to Sam.

"Caleb was out hunting a monster-"

"The shifter," Sam corrected. "I know."

Jim smiled, threading his fingers through Sam's thick hair.

"That's right." He paused, wondering what he could say that would possibly soften the blow. "Sam, something happened."

Sam turned in his lap to stare at his guardian. "W-what do you mean?"

"Caleb-"

The door slamming open from the force Dean used, diverted Jim from his statement. Looking over his shoulder at Dean as he walked through the kitchen, he could see the enthusiasm on his face from a hunt gone right. Giving him a high-five when he strode over to him, he could see Dean's eyes swivel to his brother, and then his two guardians. If Sam knew something was wrong right away, he could only imagine how fast Dean would figure it out.

Motioning for Dean to sit down across from him, he could see Bobby tense when he thought about how Dean would react. Telling the boys about Caleb being in jail, was nearly impossible for him when he thought about how horrific the charge was. This was not something small that promised to go away with time. This was something that had the potential of carrying them onward for the rest of their lives.

Dean leaned forward in his seat, knowing something was off with the way Jim was behaving. The pastor longed to be able to take his fears away. To deny anything was wrong when the opposite was the truth. How much more could their family handle? If it was not Sam learning about their lives, it was Caleb being arrested for a bogus charge.

"What's wrong?" Dean asked, his voice rigidly controlled.

"Dean, I was just going to tell your brother, that something has happened with Caleb."

Dean froze; his expression was torn between one of shock and one of grief. It reminded Jim of the reaction Bobby had when he thought Caleb died from the job he was on. Shaking his head, letting Dean know that nothing like that was wrong, he saw him calm down a little.

"Is he-"

"No," Bobby filled in. "He's not-he's not dead, Dean."

"Then what?" Dean inquired, shrugging his shoulders.

It was obvious that he was nonplussed about what could possibly be happening that would garner such a strong reaction from his family if Caleb was not dead. In all of his years of working with Caleb and training under his careful hand, there had never been a time where he was caught in a hunt gone wrong.

"Caleb was doing a hunt." Dean was unaware of the job Caleb took in Medina.

"What kind of job?" Dean asked, folding his arms across his stomach.

"It was one of the harder ones-" Jim began.

Dean smiled, shaking his head. "A hunt that's too difficult for Caleb? I can't see that."

In a way, Jim knew the belief Dean held about the competency of his guardian, was very accurate. Caleb was an excellent hunter who was able to tackle the big jobs with nary a problem to report. It was dumb misfortune that something happened this time; something that was big enough to land him in jail.

"The victim," Bobby said quietly. "She ended up drawing the short end of the stick."

"What does that mean?" Sam asked, looking at his brother for the comfort he needed.

Jim paused; seeing the perplexed look on their faces was even harder for him to take. The longer he delayed telling them the truth, the harder it would be later. Shaking his head, having the full reality of the situation begin to sink in, was hard.

"She died," Jim explained. "She was found murdered in her home."

"The shifter?" Dean assumed with a scoff. "Of course."

"The problem," Bobby continued where Jim left off. "Is that the police have evidence Caleb was the one to do the killing."

The silence that filled the room after Bobby's startling announcement, was only broken by the chirping of a bird outside. Looking at Sam, he could see the child had no clue how to react. Dean, on the other hand, was fighting tears to remain strong for his family. Jim wished Dean would not try it, that he would let himself feel the kind of emotions Caleb always tried to coax out of him.

Reaching over to rub his knee in soothing circles, Dean rejected the offer of comfort and got up from his place. Sam, on the other hand, was not as resistant to the idea of it. Turning to his guardian, he wrapped his arms around him and quietly cried into his shoulder.

"We have to go to Medina," Dean said.

"We are. Tonight.


Caleb

Caleb was certain the spirit was gone after Dawn slashed it with the fixture, but there was part of him that longed to be sure before something else happened. Of course, the chains he was in, made it impossible. Settling back in the seat, he winced when he could hear the shackles clang together. Dawn was standing in the corner of the room, looking like she just completed her first marathon.

Meeting her shaken gaze in his forcibly calm one, he could see the horror perfectly muraled on her usually fearless face. It was in marked contrast to how she normally was when she met with him, and that only served to remind him of how this life would appear to someone who was not in it. His heart swelled with sympathy for her when she was about to have every belief challenged.

Raising his cuffed hands, he gestured for her to take her place across from him. It astounded him that the guards did not notice the commotion going on in the room behind them. Either way, he was not arguing against his miraculous stroke of luck that enabled him to explain some things she would need to know. Dawn's face was shining with sweat as she stared at him.

Wishing she would say something to let him know she was okay after going through what she had, he could only see her shaking her head in quiet disbelief. Resting his hands on the table, she gazed at them, before slowly extending her own to hold his. At least, she was not repulsed by his knowledge of what to do to the ghost that she clearly had questions over.

For a long time, they simply sat in silence. At least she was not instantly abandoning the room and denouncing this entire thing as crazy. In a way, Caleb supposed the spirit did him a favor. Instead of fighting to find a way to tell her about the supernatural, the spirit revealed itself to her and left her with no choice but to believe in what she saw.

The one question that was left in Caleb's mind, was how he would find the spirit and kill it. The spirit would have killed him if Dawn had not been there to intervene. Letting that startling thought run through his mind for a minute, he looked at Dawn again and saw she was starting to calm down.

"What was that?" Dawn asked, not for the first time since the spirit disappeared.

Caleb sighed. "I already told you. It's what I do."

Dawn stared at him uncomprehending. Over the years, Caleb had become so used to seeing the kinds of things most people saw in their dreams. That exposure blinded him to what he once thought about the things Jim and Bobby told him when they started training him. It was hard for him to believe it, and it was only when he was presented with proof that he accepted it.

"But what do you do?"

Caleb sighed, wondering how this conversation would go when she already knew what she had seen. It was much better than debating a way to tell her when she did not know. Now that she did, it would be easier but even harder. Undoubtedly she would have questions as to why she never knew, or even why he hunted the things he did. Whatever questions she had, he was ready to answer them.

"I hunt them. I hunt those...types of things."

"What-what was that?" Dawn asked, her voice weak.

"A ghost...or a spirit."

Dawn looked at him with her mouth open. It was a look he had never seen before in all his years of knowing her. Dawn was the kind of person who was unflappable in everything she accomplished, and when she went before a judge or jury. There was nothing that could have scared her until she ran into the spirit that nearly killed her friend.

"I thought they only-"

"I know," Caleb said, understanding what she was about to say. "Most people only believe the generic crap they see on TV and movies."

"You hunt them?" Dawn asked. "I mean, how do you hunt those things-"

This was good; at least she was asking questions instead of running out of the room and calling him out for what he did. There were hunters he knew of that tried to involve a friend or significant other in their life, and it backfired on them. Having her stay for the conversation, was promising that she would not leave him after all was said and done.

"I have for a long time."

"Why? Doesn't that strike you as being-"

"Crazy? Stupid?" Caleb supplied.

"Well," Dawn said, pausing to think about it. "Yeah."

That was the reaction most people had when they found out about the life hunters had. If people did not run out of the room screaming, they questioned their sanity in pursuing something so horrible. Caleb was able to understand the latter point of view easier than he was able to process the people who ran out the very instant they heard it.

"I kinda had no choice."

Thinking back to the perilous time after his wife died, was hard for him. It was even more challenging when he finally accepted the existence of the monster who killed her.

"What do you mean?"

"My wife was killed by another type of monster. It ended up starting me on this journey."

"Do you realize how crazy this is?" Dawn asked, staring at him as though she was staring at a different person.

Caleb nodded. "I do."

If there had not been anyone to help acclimate him to the existence of the supernatural, he would have reacted the same way she had.

"That woman? Do you know who she is?"

"No."

That was where he knew he needed her help. Looking at her, he captured her gaze in his. There was nothing in her eyes but admission of what she saw, and belief in what Caleb told her.

"What do you need me to do?"