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 10: Descent

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God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.

~Psalms 46:1

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Caleb's frantic descent was more slide than run, the loose underbrush and shale creating landslides under his feet. He didn't really notice the times his feet slipped out from under him, that he had to catch himself on the ground with his hands, barely kept his balance so he didn't fall headfirst down the mountain. And still he didn't seem to be drawing closer to the decimated ruin of the tram car, like some witch's spell was making his objective hopelessly out of his reach.

He never heard his name being shouted, didn't register anything but the tram, could only think of getting to Dean.

It was the familiar, startled grunt of pain that broke through his anguished haze before the echoing shout of "DAMIEN!" reached him, pierced though his wall of grief. Had him skidding to a stop, risking his last vestige of hope to turn around, to look for the only person who called him Damien, the only person he would ever let call him that name.

He almost couldn't believe what he saw: Dean. Face down on the ground in an undignified sprawl a few hundred yards behind him, but his head up, his mouth open, ready to scream his name again when their eyes met.

Dean alive.

Apparently Dean had been trying to intercept him, to stop his reckless descent before he broke his neck, to tell him he wasn't down there when the steep incline and his bum leg sent him crashing to the ground. Leaving Dean only with his voice to stop Caleb, to tell his best friend he hadn't gotten in the tram, had listened to him, that he hadn't lost him.

Caleb's voice didn't tremble, it quaked as he bewilderedly and joyously called out, "Dean?!"

Trying to push himself upright, ignoring the cuts on his hands the shale was making at his efforts, Dean didn't drop his eyes from Caleb's. "I didn't go. I didn't go," seemingly stating the obvious but it was still something that needed to be said, to be understood.

Then Caleb climbed up the mountain like a billygoat, was suddenly there, dropping to his knees and pulling Dean into a desperate hug. Didn't think he had ever felt such shuddering relief, such a reassuring physical contact than the kid's head tucked against his chest. He put a chaste kiss on the top of Dean's head before he totally broke down, couldn't be the tough no-chick-flick guy right then. Not when he thought Dean had been lost to him, not when it had been so close, not when his little brother was in his arms.

It said something that Dean wasn't the one to pull back or make a smart aleck comment, that he lay there in Damien's arms, trembling and spent. Almost protested when Caleb pulled back, held him at arm's length, began his medical examination and Q&A. Caleb's hands seemed to move as fast as the Flash's: lifting Dean's hands, his fingers running over the bleeding cuts, cupping Dean's face, skimming over the new rips in the knees of Dean's jeans only to once again end with his hand cupping Dean's face. "Is anything broken? Ankle, leg, ribs? Any shortness of breath? Did you hit your head?" his eyes examining Dean's for signs of a concussion.

Numbly, Dean shook his head, wasn't hurt, was stunned. Stunned at the sight he caught behind Damien's shoulder…the tram car splintered like one of Sammy's model airplanes, of how he was supposed to be in there, he and Jason both. How his heart twisted when he heard Caleb's scream, watched as his best friend raced to get to the tram car, how he had shouted to Caleb and taken up a hopeless pursuit before the mountain and his leg ganged up on him, had him tripping and sliding down half the mountain. It was then that he put all his fear into his call for Caleb, all his sorrow, all his regrets, all his guilt.

And Caleb heard him. Stopped, turned and didn't look at him with angry censorship for their earlier exchange of harsh words, for his rebellion, but overflowing love and relief. Then Caleb was there, not pulling him off the ground, reaming him out for almost getting himself killed, but crashing to the ground at his side, hauling him, not for a good shaking, but into a hug so hard it almost hurt, but in a good way. Gave him something no adrenaline rush ever could: the sure knowledge that he was loved. That he mattered, that he would be missed if he was gone.

At Dean's negative response to his inquires about his injuries, Caleb did what he wanted to and drew Dean back against him, rested his chin on the boy's head. Saw, for the first time, Jason standing by the terminal door, white as a sheet. His own mortality hitting the sixteen year old hard.

If Caleb could have given a crap about anyone but Dean at that moment, he would have felt sympathy for the Lositros kid. But as it was, Dean was the only one he could think of, the only one he wanted to shelter from the harshness of life, like Dean always tried to do for Sam.

But Dean proved that even Damien couldn't put the genie back in the bottle, that Dean knew what life was, the bitter consequences, the harsh truths, the responsibly he bore, even at fifteen. "We have to get out of here before the cops or park rangers show up," Dean's muffled voice reasoned before the kid pushed himself off of Caleb but Caleb latched onto Dean's arms, wouldn't let the kid go far.

Eyes meeting Caleb's, Dean rationally stated, "We're trespassing, we just defaced a mountainside and destroyed a historic tram car." But then the kid pulled on a smirk. "Any of that goes on my police record and everyone at juvy will think I'm just a small time offender, which will ssssoooo get me beat up."

Caleb couldn't help laugh at Dean's twisted point of view of recent events. "Right, sure. Assault and battery of some trees might get the Arbor group chasing us with pitchforks."

"Yeah, it's the peace lovers you have to watch out for," Dean retorted, finding himself smiling back at Caleb, at wanting to smile, not because he was making his own choices but because he wasn't alone, that there was someone who knew him soul deep. Someone he could have a sparkling conversation, one embedded with his and Caleb's twisted sense of humor.

"Ok, let's get you on your feet, see if your leg will take your weight," Caleb suggested, slipping his arm around Dean's waist as he maneuvered them both to their feet. Dean's leg held, maybe more out of Dean's determination than its physical stability but it held all the same. But that didn't mean Caleb was releasing his hold on Dean or not taking as much of the younger boy's weight as he could when they started up the mountain. Continued to do so as they wordlessly passed by Jason, crossed the parking lot, and reached his Jeep, where he boosted Dean onto the passenger seat against Dean's protests that he could manage the feat on his own.

Only once Dean was safely ensconced in the Jeep did Caleb turn to Jason who had trailed behind them like a lost puppy dog. "You better hope that we make it down to the main road before the cops or rangers come tearing up here to see about the commotion. Now get in your car and get out of here!"

With one shared, miserable look with Dean, Jason spun on his heel and ran for his car, had it rumbling down the dirt road before Caleb could turn on the Jeep's engine. Then Caleb had the Jeep charging down the dilapidated road in the wake of Jason's truck's fumes, couldn't help but shoot Dean a worried look at the kid's silent routine. Grimaced at the kid's pale, bruised features, the wince Dean couldn't cover up as the rough road jostled his abused body, was about to ask Dean if he was Ok when the fifteen year old spoke first.

"So let me have it," Dean said with a heavy sigh, eyes leaving the road ahead to watch Caleb's profile.

"Have what?" Caleb asked, trading his attention back and forth from his driving to his companion.

"The balling out." Then Dean recited some of John Winchester's best cut-you-to-the-quick lectures. "The 'your irresponsibility almost cost lives,' the 'you put us all at risk with your actions,' that I'll never deserve a Brotherhood ring if I keep screwing up like this."

Caleb's lips pressed together, hated that Dean was quoting the reprimands from memory, that John had rained such guilt inducing manipulating rebukes down on Dean's too fragile soul. "No balling out…just…" here his fingers tightened on the steering wheel before he faced Dean, "Thanks. For not getting on the tram, for not…getting yourself killed."

But Dean dropped his head in shame, mumbled, "I almost got in the tram. What's worse, I almost didn't stop Jason from going it alone."

Caleb felt his breath hitch in his chest, had to push his next words out like an elephant was sitting on his chest. "Why didn't you go?"

"You. What you said," Dean quietly admitted before his eyes came up to hold Damien's. "No matter how pissed I was at you…I would never want to hurt you like losing your mom hurt you…like losing my Mom hurt me. And Sammy might not remember Mom to miss her personally…but he knows he missed out on something everyone else seems to have. And Dad…maybe he doesn't say Mom's name often but when he does….I know he still misses her…like I do."

Caleb nodded, didn't think he could speak around the lump in his throat. But gestures were fine too, which was why he reached out, tousled Dean's hair and then affectionately cupped the back of the boy's neck. Kept his hand there until he felt the tension bleed out of Dean, until he knew that his little brother was ok, until Dean knew that he wasn't mad at him, was so happy to have him with him that nothing else mattered right then.

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TBC

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Thanks for reading & reviewing!

Have a great day!

Cheryl W.