Lol okay I know

Adulthood has hit me like a truck in very adulty ways lol.

I'm trying to get back into writing but sometimes life decides "Uhm, no, you are no longer in high school you don't know what "free time" is.

And there's a solid chance that will once again happen.

BUT! For the moment I have a little bit of time.

Not a lot, but enough to bring you this.

Enough rambling... Please enjoy my first post of 2024!

~TH~

Mac was elected to drive. According to his dad, Caleb was too banged up and Jim had just literally died, so Mac it was. They had made good progress. Jim was unable to stay awake despite his efforts. Mac had a grim look of determination on his face but remained silent.

But Caleb couldn't shake the dream. It was haunting.

He didn't know what they'd be walking into. He didn't know the timeline. All he knew was that he'd never forgive himself if he found Dean dead. He'd never forgive John. And he'd never forgive Jim.

The Guardian had protected Caleb throughout his life. He knew that without Jim he'd have been dead a long time ago. Caleb had never had a reason to not trust Jim, at least not on this level. But this… this was inexcusable. Playing with Dean's life as if it were a useless pawn in a greater chess game. Easily sacrificed in the place of the King. Or even the Knight.

Which plunged him back into the dark feeling coursing throughout his memory. John had killed Dean. Shot him with no signs of remorse. Avoided the facts and acted out of anger. It wasn't unlike John, but this was an unnecessary extreme.

"Caleb?" Jim's voice drew him out of his head. He still looked terrible, alive, but terrible. Sitting in the front seat he seemed to still barely be able to keep his bruised eyes open. Pale and hollow looking. It did not improve Caleb's mood. "What happened? What did you see?"

For a moment he debated not saying anything. If he said it maybe it would make it happen faster. But that had never happened before. The truth is that he was ticked. Regardless of what happened, he'd have trouble forgiving the Guardian.

"Did Jamison-?"

"It wasn't Jamison!" Caleb snapped. "It wasn't Jamison, or Hollis, or anyone else you accounted for. It was John."

"John?" It was Mac's voice that held so much disbelief.

Caleb studied Jim's face. There was no shock. No surprise. Disappointment, yes. Fear, plenty. But none of the disbelief Caleb had been expecting.

"You always knew this was a possibility, didn't you?" Caleb felt the strange echo of Dean in the vision, thinking about the plans that had been considered. "You knew but you didn't care! Not so long as the precious Brotherhood was protected!" He spat the words and wondered for a moment if he would have lunged at the old man had they not been driving down the road.

"Caleb!" The car swerved with Mac's outburst.

"No, Mackland, it's alright. Caleb, tell me what happened."

"Dean got found out. I don't know what happened, but after Jamison's gang had some fun, John showed up. Took them all down. Can't say he's not efficient. Then he turned on Dean. Shot him between the eyes. Didn't even look guilty about it." That may not have been completely true. There had been remorse. Disappointment. But guilt? Did the great Knight even know what that was?

Oppressive silence filled the car. Jim turned away from Caleb, closing his eyes and leaning against the headrest. The car began to move faster down the highway.

Caleb crossed his arms, not sure if his anger, or concern would win out.

Finally, the property came into view. A large church sat in the middle of the property. Gravel led to the top of a hill where a large metal building sat. It was more of a box than a building. No architectural beauty at all. Just a metal shell surrounded by rocks and mud.

All thoughts of architecture faded away as his eyes fell on John's truck. Caleb didn't wait for the car to stop, ignoring his dad's call for him to wait. He pulled open the door, finding himself in a front office area. The room was overtaken with maps. Boxes of Bibles lined one wall and to the left was an abandoned receptions office.

His eyes momentarily lingered on the wall. The painted globe was beginning to peel along with a proclamation to go into the world. Caleb had heard Jim quote the Great Commission in hunter circles. It was ironic considering just what their mission was.

He'd found himself distracted, giving Mac and Jim time to catch up. Caleb pushed forward, the two Triad members at his back. His gun was raised, poised and ready to shoot. He couldn't see what was happening, but he could hear the sound of flesh on flesh and pained grunts. This was surprisingly comforting. It meant that more than one person was alive. It meant that John wasn't standing over Dean's dead body.

They headed forward, going past boxes, metal scaffolding and machines that look like they could take a finger off. A gunshot sounded, echoing around the metal building. Caleb didn't wait, taking off towards the sound.

The maze finally led him to bodies littering the floor. John Winchester was standing, back turned towards Caleb, gun pointed in front of him.

Caleb felt his heart in his throat. He wanted to call out, wanted to do something to stop it. But all that came to him was the vision of John Winchester standing over his son with a smoking gun.

Thankfully, Jim took no such pause.

"Jonathan!" Came the pastor's voice. The former weakness was replaced by the commanding force of the Guardian.

The man in question spun around, gun now trained on Jim. Caleb instinctively stepped in front of the pastor, training his own gun on his mentor.

Jim stepped around him, lowering the gun. "Jonathan it's me."

"Jim?" The slight tremble in John's voice would not have been noticeable if not for the accompanying shifting of his grip on the gun. "You're dead." His voice hardened. Caleb fought back the urge to step back in front of the Guardian. He couldn't get a good look at Dean. John was blocking his view.

"I am not."

"But Dean-"

"Did only what I asked."

The gun didn't lower. Not yet. But John was listening. That was something.

John's eyes flickered between the three of them. "Mac? Caleb?"

"It's him, John." Mac answered.

Caleb couldn't find the voice to speak, but offered a nod.

Finally, the gun was lowered, and Caleb's eyes flickered past him, attempting to see his friend but not yet willing to leave the Guardian's side.

"Go." Jim nodded. John was moving towards them, opening a better view of his son.

Caleb didn't wait for another word. He took off towards the body- no not a body. He'd know if he was dead. Obsidian and concussion aside, he'd know.

Dean was slumped in the chair, blood pooled on the floor. Caleb hoped it was from the body at his feet and not from his best friend.

He dropped to his knees, blood immediately soaking into his jeans. "Deuce, hey,Dean, can you hear me?"

A trembling hand went up to Dean's neck, checking the pulse. It was there. It was fast and thready but there.

"Dean, come on man, open your eyes for me."

A shuddered breath was the response. A full body tremble passed through Dean before his eyes blinked open.

"D'm'ien?" The word was so slurred he almost couldn't make it out. A weight that had so firmly settled in Caleb's chest lifted. The single word, the nickname, seemed to tell him that everything would be okay.

"Yeah man, it's me. I'm gonna get you out of these ropes now. Try not to fall on your face."

Dean didn't react to the friendly quip. "'M s'rry." He muttered instead.

"Hey, Dean, there's nothing to be sorry for." He cupped Dean's face, drawing his face up to look into his eyes. "I'm not mad at you. None of this is your fault."

Caleb gently leaned Dean back into the chair before working on the ropes. The knife sliced easily through the ropes, but Dean remained motionless, not even fighting back.

The thoughts that Caleb had perceived during the vision came back. The not caring. The idea that death would be for the best. Too tired to defend himself. Too tired to care.

"Almost done." Caleb said, instead of any of the dark swirling thoughts attempting to drown him.

When the last rope was cut, he returned his attention to Dean's face. To Dean's half lidded eyes and bruised cheek and not quite there stare.

"Okay, come on, time to get you out of here."

Dean finally met his gaze. "D'y h'te me?"

It took Caleb a moment to piece that one together. At first he thought Dean was asking if Caleb was going to hit him. Which, while horrifying, would make sense in his current state. But then the true meaning kicked in. Dean was asking Caleb if he hated him.

Caleb stopped, forcing Dean to look into his eyes. "Listen to me. I don't hate you. I could never hate you. None of this is your fault." There were plenty of people at fault, but Deuce wasn't one of them. Some could argue that he had to agree to the whole thing, but Caleb knew what everyone in the inner circle knew. If you asked Dean for help, told him that you needed him, he would do it. Dean was taken advantage of in the cruelest way, by people who cared about him.

He had to temper the rage that was steadily growing. He didn't want Dean to get the wrong idea. Because the truth was he was angry. He was very angry. But not a single bit of it was pointed at Dean. Not even for getting caught. He shouldn't have been placed in this position to begin with.

"How is he?" Mac appeared at his shoulder before kneeling in the blood. Dean flinched and Mac offered a reassuring smile before inspecting the mangled chest that was before him.

Caleb had been intentionally not looking. He probably should have begun triage immediately, but he'd been too preoccupied with Dean's mental state.

Mac frowned. "None of them are too deep. Meant to harm not to kill. But he's lost a lot blood."

"I think he's concussed." Caleb offered, watching as Dean's eyes flickered in an attempt to stay open.

"We need to get out of here." Jim joined in. His face was stone, only cracks of deep concern seeping through the intentionally emotionless face.

Caleb nodded, going to Dean's right side and pulling him to his feet. Dean was struggling to stay on his feet and Mac joined in under the left arm. That's when Caleb noticed that it was only the four of them.

"Wait, where's John?"

Jim's lips pressed into a thin line. "He left."

"What! To go where?!"

"When he realized I was alive he concluded he was no longer needed."

"No longer- Didn't want to wait around and see what damage he'd done? Didn't care enough to make sure his own son was alive?!"

"Caleb-"

"I'so 'k. D'nt fi'te pl's." Dean's weak voice stopped the brewing argument.

Caleb set his teeth. It was probably better for Dean in the long run. Keep John Winchester as far away from him as possible. He sighed. Dean needed better than this right now. He needed to be okay. He would deal with Triad and their stupidity later.

"Come on Deuce, let's get you home."

~TH~

And there we are!

Less of a cliff hanger than usual.

And guess what?

I've already written the final chapter.

It will go up sometime this week!

Thank you for sticking with me for such a long hiatus (thought it's definitely not my longest...)

Now that I've finished writing this fic (even if it hasn't all been posted) I'm going to try to finish up Haven't to Deserve. Not making any promises on how quick that will be tho.

Please let me know what you think!

Much love and God bless,

Jamie