The Way Home
Chapter 15
Disclaimer: see chapter 1
Stepping through the door, Dean quickly made his way to his father's side, taking the man's hand in his. The boy didn't miss the increased heat radiating off John, nor the sweat-dampened hair that was plastered to his Dad's forehead. His eye's traveled to the sides of the bed, where ice packs had been placed next the unconscious man's body, the minute tremors from his body's response to the increasing fever were also noticed. "Dad? You need to keep fighting this, do you hear me? Don't you do this to me…you fight this and show that damn doctor he doesn't know what the hell he's talking about." Dean's voice cracked as he ran his hand over his father's head, "Please…I love you Dad, please don't leave me." he whispered.
"Are you going to call Mac?" Bobby asked as he looked anywhere but toward the devastated boy and the still form of his friend.
Jim watched the scene unfolding before him; he was torn between informing Mac of the change in John's condition and allowing the man to keep his focus on Caleb. "I think I'm going to wait, there isn't anything he can do at this point."
"What about Sammy?" The Mechanic couldn't imagine what the loss of his father would do to the youngest Winchester, especially if Dean withdrew completely.
"Again I believe it is best to wait, Dean should be the one to tell his brother if something happens." Jim answered, looking at the man next to him.
Bobby adjusted his cap as he finally glanced toward Dean and John, the boy having not moved from his father's side. "You do realize if John doesn't make it, we could lose Dean too."
Blowing out a deep-breath, Jim moved toward Dean, "Then let's pray that doesn't happen." The Guardian went to stand next to the teen, putting a comforting hand on the boy's shoulder. Bobby again adjusted his hat and silently slipped from the room.
Dean's world consisted of listening to the ventilator breathe for his father and watching the shivers that were giving the impression that John was freezing, when in reality his body was baking from within. The teen was no longer aware of how many hours had passed since he had been told that there was a really good chance his father could die. He wouldn't allow his mind to process that information; to him it wasn't an option.
The fifteen-year old had heard Jim and Bobby come and go from the room, each man trying to talk with him, trying to offer words of comfort, but Dean's only focus was his father. Each time the nurse came in to check on John; Dean would hear them relay his vitals to either the Mechanic or the Pastor, but he wouldn't accept what they were saying, that his father's condition was slowly deteriorating. He refused to leave the room, spending hours holding his Dad's hand, trying to work through the guilt of how pissed he had been with John when the older man had left for Bobby's, silently praying he'd get the chance to apologize.
As time passed, Jim left the room to finally call Mac, Bobby headed out for another coffee run and though he had continued to fight it, sleep finally found the distraught teen, his hand never leaving his father's.
"I will never understand your need to be around this damn pond." The achingly familiar voice pulled Dean from his dark thoughts. He had found himself sitting on the bank of Jim's pond, the one place he would always go to think, the one place he could always find peace. His heart rate increasing as he watched the figure of his best friend sat down next to him.
"Damien?" Dean watched the older man sit, bumping his shoulder to show he was really there.
"Deuce, what the hell are you doing? I thought you figured out years ago that you can't hide from things, that eventually you have to deal with them." Caleb's calming voice filled Dean. The psychic had been the one person that Dean could always be honest with, that he never had to hide anything from.
Tears filled Dean's eyes, "its Dad…" He choked out, quickly rubbing his hand over his face.
"I know," Caleb reached up and put his arm around his friend's shoulders, slightly surprised when the teen leaned into him, much like he use to when he was younger. "Don't give up on him just yet, what do doctors know anyway?" Caleb was trying his best to help the boy beside him. The psychic knew how deeply Dean cared about his family, how his own existence seemed to revolve around those closest to him, especially John and Sammy.
The teen pulled back, looking into the worried eyes of his best friend, "The fever isn't letting up, they're saying if it doesn't go down, he could…" Again the words clogged his throat, he refused to speak them in fear it would make them come true. "You know what Mac always said about fever's, why he'd watch us so close when we would get sick or hurt, they're bad news."
"Yeah, and Mac always worried a little too much, remember?" Caleb needed to get Dean's thoughts away from the 'what ifs'. "Look, Johnny's not gonna run out on you guys, he's one of the most stubborn son of bitch's I know, he made it back to Bobby's right? He pulled his ass out of those woods and got help, do you really think he's gonna let this keep him from getting back to you guys, that's what kept him going, getting home to you and Sammy."
Dean was silent a minute, trying to see what his friend was trying to tell him. He turned his head to meet Caleb's gaze, his forehead pinching in confusion a minute as the words finally sunk in, "How'd you know he made it to Bobby's?"
'Damn the kid is sharp,' Caleb thought, unable to hide his surprised expression fast enough, the younger hunter knew he had somehow helped John, but didn't understand how. The twenty-two year old quickly stood, moving toward one of the tree's that lined the pond, "He was near Bobby's for that hunt, where else would he have showed up?"
Dean stood, following his friend, "You were there?" things started to click in Dean's mind. At Jim's, before he knew for sure it was Caleb he'd seen, something told him, screamed to him it was his best friend. Thinking back, it was a similar feeling he had as he noticed movement in Bobby's driveway, just before his father came into view. Though he wasn't psychic, he seemed to always have a connection to Caleb, could always tell when his friend was close by, even without seeing him. It had helped on the few hunts they had been on together; Dean could always pin-point where Caleb was. "You helped Dad get to Bobby's. How?"
Running his hands through his hair, Caleb turned back toward Dean, "I'm not sure…" He could never lie to Dean; the kid had a sixth sense about stuff like that, could pick-up on a lie before the person even spoke it. "I remember the vision and thinking no one was going to be able to find Johnny in time. I remember trying to get you and Jim to understand me before everything went black. Next thing I knew I was in the woods looking down at Johnny. I knew I had to get him out of there; it would have taken too long for anyone to find him. Once I got him close to Bobby's I could sense you there, I knew I had gotten to him in time, that Johnny would be okay."
"But he's not." Dean's voice became quiet again, his thought's returning to his father as the man continued to fight for his life.
Caleb stepped forward, taking a hold of Dean's shoulders, "Don't say that. You and Sammy are what got him through those woods, got him past the pain. Wanting to get back to you boys kept him putting one foot in front of the other, I wouldn't have been able to do a damn thing if he hadn't been willing to fight, so don't you dare give up on him now."
Dean angrily pushed Caleb's hands away, taking a step back, "I would never give up on my family!"
Clearing his throat Caleb attempted to change the tone of the conversation, fear and worry turning their emotions toward anger "Good to know Deuce, since you got a little brother getting ready to hit those dreaded teenage years." Caleb gave a mock shiver, "You've been a pain in the ass, and from what I've heard Sammy's already starting, give it some time, you'll probably want to lock him in Jim's basement soon."
Dean couldn't help the laugh that escaped, "Not likely, I'll just do what Dad does with me, dump him on you when he becomes a problem."
Caleb barked out a laugh as well, "Dude, I've already full-filled my 'big brother' duty putting up with your smart-ass mouth, Sammy's all yours."
The fifteen-year old's eyes took on a serious look as he stepped back toward his 'big brother'. "I'm always gonna need you man, don't you run out on me too, you got that. I need my brother too." Tears again filled Dean's eyes, but never fell as he remembered the still form of his friend laying in the hospital bed back in Kentucky.
Caleb's own throat clogged as the raw emotion he saw reflected in the moss-green eyes of his friend gripped his soul, "Big brothers never desert their little brothers…" The psychic took a hold of the back of Dean's neck, giving it a gentle squeeze, "I'm not going anywhere."
"Promise?" Dean pleaded. His voice sounding more like the five-year old Caleb first met, then the teenager before him.
"I promise." Caleb closed his eye's a minute, shaking his head slightly, before opening them again, "But right now Johnny needs you. It's time to wake up Deuce."
In a flash the farm and his best friend, his brother, had disappeared, Dean's eyes snapped open as alarms started sounding in the room.