Looking For Space

Author: Cheryl W.

Disclaimer: I do not own Dean, Sam or any rights to Supernatural, nor am I making any profit from this story.

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CHAPTER 3: Cuts Like a Knife

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And the contention was so sharp between them that they departed asunder one from the other.

~ Acts 15:39

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"Open the door, Deuce!" Caleb demanded as he pounded on Dean's motel door, could sense Dean within the room.

"There's no Deuce here!" Dean shouted through the closed door.

Caleb sighed. 'It's gonna be a long haul.' "Dean, open the door." When there was no response, he pounded again. "That's an order!" Silence was all he got back in exchange, well, that and the next door neighbors coming out of their room and giving him the hairy eyeball. "Nephew," Caleb explained. "He's having one of his teenage tantrums." Apparently that was good enough for the neighbors because they retreated back into their room, probably didn't want any part of a teenager snit fit.

Still, when Caleb returned his attention to Dean's door, he dropped his voice, "Deuce…" Amended, "Dean, open the door or…I'll pick it anyway."

Suddenly the door was whipped open to reveal a, thankfully unscathed, if stoic, Dean. "What do you want, Reaves?" his stance clearing blocking Caleb's entrance into the room.

Startled at being called Reaves and not Caleb or even Damien, Caleb realized the uphill battle ahead of him. Dropping the command in his tone and replacing it was a tone of entreaty, he opened with, "To talk." 'To make sure you're really alive, in one piece after my vision.'

But at Caleb's suggestion, Dean pulled the door closed even more, made sure that there wasn't an opening for the older man to slip by him and enter the room. "We've said it all already." Then he stepped back, not to contradict his words and let him in, as Caleb foolishly thought, but to shut the door in Reaves' face.

But Caleb's hand flew out, stopped the door's motion before it could click shut, before Dean could totally shut him out. "Please. Just…please," Caleb begged, didn't know the words he would say but couldn't bear for Dean to go on thinking even for another second that he wasn't sorry for what he had done. And when Dean's angry expression faltered, Caleb had hope that things would be alright. Right before another hunter who was staying in the motel came up behind him, clapped him on the back and congratulated him.

"I had my doubts about you, kid, but you got the job done. Guess you're not such a bad choice of a protégé for Winchester after all. Course John would have waited until that thing was closer to our position instead of us having to haul butt after it for a quarter mile." Then the hunter left, didn't know the destruction he left in his wake.

Paling, Caleb eyes sought out Dean, saw the deep hurt scoring across the fifteen year old's eyes. It wasn't lost on either of them that Dean's life had been risked and he was getting none of the congratulations, that Dean had drawn the thing to their trap.

But it was Caleb who couldn't stand to wait until the thing reached the mark where the trap was, had pulled the start gun early, terrified that Dean would fall under the creature's pounce if he waited even another second.

Part of Caleb knew that he had done what John Winchester wouldn't have …even with his son's life in the balance. That John would have waited to spring the trap until Dean brought the creature right where they needed it. And the worst part of it was, Dean knew that too.

When Dean slammed the door closed, Caleb knew he had zero chance of getting to have the conversation he wanted to have that night. That between him and John, they had screwed up royally…and just like usual, Dean was the one walking away hurt.

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From his vantage point, Joshua saw his prey enter the hotel, taking a breath before he pushed out of the lobby's plush chair and fall in step with Reaves. "By your scowl, I take it Dean's not in a forgiving mood."

Striding forward without even looking at Josh, Caleb huskily replied, "Wouldn't even let me in his room to talk to him."

A little pushed to keep up with his taller companion's pace, Joshua asked, "So he's Ok after his white water sans raft stunt?" Quickly justifying to himself, 'Not like I'm concerned about the little punk…but just in case my mother would ask about him.'

"It didn't come up in the two second conversation we had…in the hallway…while the rest of the motel listened in," Caleb's bitterness rampant before he sighed, came to a halt and faced Joshua. Rubbing a hand down his face in relief, he reported, "But he wasn't in pain…looked ok. Thank God."

And it wasn't that Joshua was relieved Dean was in one piece, he was just glad he didn't have to tell John Winchester something happened to his son while he was in a one hundred mile radius. "So he was just letting off some steam. Teenager stuff."

"That's not Dean's style," Caleb shot back, affronted on Dean's behalf.

"What?! Being reckless?!" Joshua scoffed back, didn't heed Caleb's glare but continued. "I've seen him be plenty reckless. He'd smart mouth Attila the Hun and he makes up plans as he goes."

"Ok, yeah but that works for him. And it's about survival," Caleb defended before he rebuked, "But jumping into a river is just…."

"Fun. Spontaneous. Rebellious," Joshua supplied, trying to hold back a smirk. When it came to Dean, Reaves could be such a mother hen. 'Except today. What he did to the kid today….wasn't right, on so many levels.'

"He could have drown!" Caleb snapped at his fellow hunter. "Could have died…doing…"

"What? Something other than hunting? God forbid. Death is acceptable as long as it's in the line of duty. I think that's hunter credo number 2," Joshua contemptuously flung back to Caleb, knew how fathers like his own and John Winchester justified things, prioritized their goals..for themselves and their sons.

Grabbing onto Josh's jacket, Caleb roughly yanked the hunter closer, hissed into his face. "What the heck, Josh?! This is Dean we're talking about! I get that you care mostly about yourself but you know how I feel about the kid."

Joshua shoved Caleb back, some of his own anger showing. "You forget, my Dad's a lot like John, I know what and who they are willing to sacrifice to get the job done. I don't have hero worship blinders on." Letting the 'like you do' unsaid. "And as far as how you feel about Dean…I thought I knew…until you coldheartedly tricked the kid into being bait for a hunt you just had to get right. What with all these other hunters watching and at your beck and call. Dean's not the only one who's disgusted with how far you'll go to be hunter of the month." Then he stalked away, left Caleb with that disturbing thought.

A thought that made Caleb want to hurl…or get blinding drunk. Settling for option number 2, he headed to the bar, made himself a permanent fixture at a table, even shunned any and all female company that approached. He didn't move from the spot until the bar was closing up, until he was prodded to the door.

Stumbling back into his room, he felt a jolt of hope when he saw the motel's phone message light was lit. But the recorded voice that came back to him from the phone's speakers wasn't Dean's, was Mac's instead. Just like the two cellphone calls were that he didn't answer.

"Since you're not answering your cell, I'm betting you're off celebrating your successful hunt in ways I really don't want to hear about. I just called to say that I heard from Lositros what a well-planned takedown it was and I'm proud of you, Son. Call me tomorrow when you're sober."

'Another congratulations I don't deserve.' Unable to fight his reaction this time, Caleb stumbled to the bathroom and promptly threw up. Crashing back on the bathroom floor to lean against the tub, he fumbled in his pocket for his cellphone and called his Dad, not giving one thought to the time.

"Hello," came a sleep muffled voice through the cell lines.

"Dad, its Caleb."

"Caleb it's…4am here."

"I..I screwed up…" Caleb confessed, his voice doing that trembling thing it rarely ever did.

From the cell phone came the ruffle of sheets, click of a light switch being turned on and then Mac's voice was far less hazy with sleep, "Ok, I'm up…I'm almost coherent. What's wrong, son?" Because he had never turned down his son when he needed him.

"I really screwed things up and Deuce…Dean, he's never gonna forgive me."

Mackland felt a chill at his son's amendment, rarely heard his son call Dean by name, knew it wasn't an insignificant choice. "Dean's not hurt, is he?" Fear starting to clutch onto his heart at the terrible thought.

"No…but that's not my fault. I …I used him, Dad. I used Dean because I wanted to look competent and smart, be a credit to John…to you. I didn't think…I just didn't think about what I was doing to Dean."

"Ok, calm down, Caleb. You used Dean how?"

Caleb drew in a ragged breath, knew he was inviting his father's disgust as well as Dean and Josh's. 'Disgust I have coming.' "The monster..it was attracted to youth…and high emotions. I knew…I made sure it would go after Dean. And I never told Dean he was the bait. I…I brought up Sam running away right before the hunt because …because.." Here his voiced cracked apart, made stuttering more words nearly impossible.

But his father didn't need him to say them. "Because you knew it would upset him," Mackland deduced before his tone turned reprimanding. "Caleb, I can't believe you…."

"I know!" Caleb shouted but it was a broken sound, and as much as he knew Mac's disappointment in him was justified, it hurt. Badly. "I…I've ruined everything. I've…I've lost Dean. You're ashamed of me and …"

"And things will be ok, son," Mackland soothingly cut across his son's pained voice. "You screwed up, yes, but Dean…he loves you."

"I know and I put him in danger for my friggin' ego!"

Quietly Mackland stated, "It's not the first time for him."

Caleb's jaw jumped at the bitter truth of his father's words. "I'm not John. I don't get the free passes he does. Crap, Dad! What am I going to do?!"

Mackland replied using his reasonable, father-knows-best tone, "First, get some sleep. Take some aspirin when you wake up and then go apologize to Dean."

"He won't even talk to me."

"You've never given up on Dean…don't start now," Mackland gently heartened.

But Caleb shook his head, realized that his father couldn't see that gesture. "This isn't about me giving up on him…"

"It is to Dean," Mackland insightfully countered, had known Dean long enough to have a small inkling of what went through the boy's head.

That convicted Caleb, made him realize he was letting his own fear of rejection keep him from healing Dean. "Ok, Ok. I'll talk to him, say all that chick flick stuff I usually don't say to him until he forgives me."

"Good. Now hit the sack."

"And everything will look better in the morning?" Caleb sardonically quipped, could hear the amusement in his father's tone when he spoke again.

"Something like that."

"Thanks Dad. Night," Caleb bade before he disconnected the call, pushed himself off the bathroom floor, staggered to the bed and crashed onto the mattress face first. His last coherent thought before sleep took him was of Dean, of the betrayed look on his friend's face and he vowed that he would make it up to Dean. He would. Any way he had to.

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TBC

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Thanks for reading and reviewing!

Have a great day!

Cheryl W.