A/N: I'm sorry that I haven't updated in such a long time. As I stated in my other fic, 'Breaking Point' my family recently discovered that my father has leukemia. We've been extremely busy; taking him to chemotherapy, so I haven't had any time at all to write. So updates will come… when they come.
Both Winchester brothers sat in Logan's living room, using his computers which he had so generously donated.
As they were juiced-up, and much more high-tech than their battered, yet still serviceable laptop.
They had been researching the recent deaths in the area, which had immediately elicited an argument between the two of them.
Sam insisted that the murders had all of the earmarks of a lycanthrope… but Dean interjected that the lunar cycle was completely wrong, so it couldn't possibly be a werewolf.
"Remember Sammy, we already discussed this on the way here… thought I was the one with the concussion."
After a few minutes of shouting, they both fell silent.
Dean leaned back in his chair, and carefully rubbed his healing forehead. "I think we should call Caleb. Maybe he'd have an idea…"
Alec and Logan looked at each other, and Alec asked what they were both thinking. "Caleb? As in your half-demon friend?"
"Yeah," Dean gave Alec a cool look. "You gotta a problem with that?"
"Hell, no. I've always wanted to meet a guy whose half-demon. Sounds like he'd be a kick at parties."
Dean relaxed fractionally. "Here… I'll call on speaker-phone, so everyone can get acquainted."
He pressed a number on speed-dial, they all listened to it ring.
After two of them, it was picked up, and a familiar voice… to the Winchester's at least, growled out on the cell phone. "Deuce… this better be very important. I was in the middle of something-"
Dean rolled his eyes, knowing what Caleb was going to say next. "Yeah, yeah… whatever. I'm sure you were in the middle of a sexual conquest."
A mock-irritated sigh. "Well, I would have been… if you're pain the ass hadn't called and interrupted…" Instantly the man's tone of voice changed abruptly, turning deadly serious. "Is something wrong Deuce," there was a pause, then a long-drawn out breath. "What the fuck have you done to yourself this time? And don't lie to me, I can sense that you're hurt. And where are you?"
"Seattle… and yeah, we got into a little trouble…And you know what Jim says 'bout reading people without permission Damien."
As expected, Caleb exploded into a rant. "What kind of trouble? What the hell happened? How badly are you hurt?"
Max leaned forward then, clearly hearing the anxiety level in the man's voice. "Hello Caleb… I can call you Caleb, right?"
"Uh… hi… and yeah you can call me Caleb" he paused. "And by the way, who's this?"
"My name's Max Guevara, and it was all my fault. You see I was riding my bike and I let my mind wander… so basically I wasn't paying attention to where I was going and nearly ran into Dean and Sam, here. However, Dean was kind enough to swerve to avoid colliding with me, but unfortunately hit a very large pole."
Caleb let out a huge sigh. "So what injuries did the two morons sustain this time?"
Dean opened his mouth to deny any physical damage and was about to growl out exactly what he thought of the statement Caleb had made about him and Sam; when Max clamped a gentle, but firm hand over his mouth.
But apparently, the silence had stretched out too long for Caleb, and he asked again; concern making his voice sharp. "Deuce? Again, what in hell did you to yourself now?"
"Hey, who said it was me?" Dean asked innocently. "It could've been Sammy that got hurt."
Caleb snorted. "If it was Sam that sustained any injuries; he'd been in a hospital. You however.. are under the supreme delusion that you're freakin' invincible. And I repeat, I could sense it. So spill… uh, Max was it? 'Cause I don't trust him to give me the full report." His voice grew hard.
Max swallowed, almost nervously. She was about to tell a half-demon that she'd nearly killed his… best friend, from the sounds of it. "Well, he hit his head which required fifteen stitches, and resulted in a severe concussion… uh, he has three broken ribs, a broken collarbone, and a fractured cheekbone."
There was silence on the other end of the line. "Why do I get the feeling there's something else?"
"Uh… yeah. When they wrecked, a piece of glass sliced into his femoral artery. He lost of a lot of blood, and it took sixty stitches to close it… but he's up and annoying everyone."
Caleb sighed. "Damn it Deuce… how in the hell are you even up and around?"
Dean exchanged a nervous glance with his younger brother, who frankly, looked rather amused.
Little shit thinks my little… predicament is funny. Oh… I'm so gonna get you for this Sammy-boy.
"Dean," Caleb's voice came out as hiss. "I can tell you're worried about something-"
Dean snorted. "Yeah, and the fact that you can sense us means you're concentrating harder than you should. Please stop it now Caleb… I don't want you to kill off any brain cells. God knows you don't have enough to spare as it is."
He smiled slightly as he heard the psychic began to splutter in protest, and spoke again, this time keeping his tone serious. "I mean it… stop it Damien. I don't want you to give yourself a stroke or something."
Silence reigned for a moment, then Caleb asked cautiously. "Deuce… you don't happen to have me on speaker-phone… do you?"
"Uhhh…yeah." Dean admitted.
More silence then his friend asked calmly. "Would you mind taking me off? I need to speak to you… in private."
The elder Winchester winced slightly as he recognized the tone in Caleb's voice. It was the I'm extremely-pissed off and boy, am I going to tear you a new one tone.
But there was no avoiding it, so he turned the cell off speaker-phone, and picked it up. "Okay, you're-"
"What in the fuck are you thinking? Talking about my abilities in front of people… people you hardly know, by the way." Caleb's voice had gotten dangerously sharp.
Dean sighed. "Damien, the whole situation is rather… complicated-"
"What do you mean by 'complicated'," Caleb's voice was still sharp, but had now softened with worry. "What are you afraid of?"
"I'll explain everything when you get here. How soon do you think you can get here?"
"I'm currently breaking every speed limit in California. A day-and-a-half, maybe two days at the most."
Dean sighed. "When I asked how soon you could get here… I meant get here fast… but not at risk of you causing a fifteen-car pile-up on the highway."
He could almost hear the smirk in Reaves' voice. "Don't worry your girly little head about me Deana. I'll drive fast but careful," he paused, his tone growing more serious. "I'll see you in about two days. And you will explain everything."
"Yes, sir." Dean replied sarcastically, but with a hint of humor.
After he hung up, Dean looked at his brother woefully. "I am so screwed."
The only answer was Sam's laughter.
Okay, this chapter was awful. Terrible. But I'm posting it anyway.