Author's Note: I am stealing the character of Caleb from Ridley C. James, who has created the wonderful world of the Brotherhood. I needed someone for this story that would know the boys from way back when and might fathom how Dean feels after "All Hell Breaks Loose Part 1". Many apologies if I do not do him justice, and no disrespect meant.

Never had there been a call that Caleb Reaves dreaded getting as much as the one he received from Bobby Singer two nights ago.

Something happened…something bad. I think you need to get out here before he does something stupid.

When Sam had disappeared for the second time without warning, Caleb was the first one Dean called, looking for help. Unfortunately, being three thousand miles away at the time, Caleb couldn't offer much help in the search. Bobby just happened to be nearby when the youngest Winchester dropped off the map again, and for all his redneck appearance, Bobby knew his business. Caleb was sure Dean and Bobby would have Sam tracked down by the time he flew out to help them look.

He wasn't wrong.

He'd arrived at the hotel Bobby directed him to, the Impala and the wrecker a dead giveaway that the two hunters were still there. Caleb was prepared for a lot of things – broken bones, burns, cuts, scrapes and even missing limbs. What he found was not one of them.

Sam lay on top of the hideous and worn bed covering of the farthest mattress, hands folded over his stomach and eyes closed. At first glance, it looked like he was sleeping peacefully after his latest adventure.

On the second glance, Caleb saw Dean's red eyes, suspiciously bright and puffy around the edges and what looked like tear tracks down his cheeks as he stared vacantly into space, one hand on his brother's chest. Which wasn't moving.

"I tried to save him," was Dean's only response. "But I was too late."

Bobby related the whole story in hushed whispers outside the door as Caleb tried to wrap his mind around the one horrible fact: Sam Winchester was dead. Which meant his brother was going to be joining him shortly.

There was some sort of sick Survivor shit going on in the backwoods of South Dakota – the 'special' children chosen by the Yellow Eyed Demon fought it out for who would be the one to lead the army against humanity. Sam was stabbed in the back just as Dean and Bobby arrived.

The man who'd done it hadn't lasted long after. Bobby had started after him but Dean beat him to it. Apparently, there wasn't much left to salt and burn when the elder Winchester got through with him. Not even super strength could withstand a brother's rage.

After beating the man to death, Dean had gone back for his brother, gently gathering Sam in his arms as he told him that he'd killed the man who killed them both. Dean brought his brother back to the hotel and hadn't moved since, keeping vigil over the body and attacking anybody who came near. He failed to protect his brother once – it would never happen again.

That was three days ago.

Dean vanished under the careful watch of his father's closest friends, along with his brother's body. For three days, they tried to piece together exactly what the last Winchester was up to. The picture that formed was not a pleasant one.

After three days, they finally caught up to him back in Lawrence, outside the city limits in the old graveyard, standing outside of the sealed crypt buried in the shadows of the long overgrown corner.

Dean stared at the black maw of the crypt without fear, without anger…without any emotion at all.

"It seems fair, doesn't it?" he said, without turning. "I've given up everything for this world. My mother, my father…my brother…" he choked on the last word. "Everything and everyone I have ever loved."

Caleb didn't say anything. He couldn't. There was no argument that he could make. Dean knew the full meaning of the word sacrifice, more than anyone else in the business.

"Dean, you don't have to do this," Bobby said, edging closer to the younger man. "Think about what you're doing."

Dean smiled, a shadowy remnant of his former self. "I have. I found Hell on earth. I think it's only fair that everyone else knows it too."

"Deuce, don't," Caleb said, "Sammy wouldn't have wanted you to do this, and you know that."

"No, he wouldn't have," Dean agreed, never tearing his eyes away from Gateway. "But Sammy's not here, now is he? And he won't be coming back."

"We know what you're doing, Dean, and this isn't you. The Demon wants you to do this, not you. You don't want to give that smug bastard what he wants, do you?" Bobby asked. He was now only a few feet from Dean, almost close enough to take him down if need be.

"This is what I want," Dean snarled, finally tearing his eyes away from the crypt door that sealed the entrance of the Hell Mouth. "It's just convenient that the Demon wants the same thing."

"No, Dean, he's using you!" Caleb said. "Can't you see that? Sammy was just a way of getting you to do what he wants!"

"Then it worked," Dean said. "I don't care anymore, Caleb. I've watched as everything was taken from me, no matter how hard I fought. I'm done fighting now. If you want to stop me, you'll have to kill me. Now."

With that, Dean muttered something under his breath and thrust his hand against the cold metal of the Gateway.

Caleb would never forget the sound the Gateway made as it was forced open. It was like thousands of souls, all screaming to be heard above the others, wailing and howling in a whirlwind of blackness. It was the sound of all hell breaking loose.

Dean had dropped to his knees, forced down by the violence of the explosion. Souls and demons whipped past him, pushing brutally past him as they escaped into the night.

And yet, that was not the worst part of the night. In a surprisingly quick exit, the night was silent again. Bobby peeked out from behind the edge of the crypt as Caleb poked his head around the side of the grave he was kneeling behind.

Dean remained on his knees in front of the cavernous opening, the faintest red glow fading into the recesses of hell barely illuminating his figure.

"Deuce?" Caleb said, voice barely above a whisper. He didn't really believe that Dean would do it – that deep down, some part of the kid he knew from the past twenty years still remained, and he wouldn't go through with it.

There was no answer, and Caleb looked to Bobby, who shrugged.

That's when they heard it: the low, rumbling laugh as Dean's shoulders started to shake.

No…not Dean, Caleb thought. Perhaps that was the Demon's plans all along – to pick a host he knew would be a problem for anyone else opposing him to kill. And one who wouldn't fight him because he didn't want to be saved.

But when Dean turned, a smile that could only be described as demonic across his face, it wasn't yellow eyes that stared back at Caleb. They were a deep, burning orange, flickering like firelight as he stared down at his hands, as though noticing them for the first time.

"Who are you?" Caleb demanded, raising the shotgun. Rock salt may not kill the bastard, but it would still hurt like hell. "And what do you want?"

It may have sounded like a stupid question when voiced out loud, but Caleb knew better after years of hunting – not all demons wanted the same thing, but they were usually quite willing to tell you what.

More than one voice answered him, all of them coming from Dean's mouth.

"My name is Legion…for we are many," they hissed, their voices sounding harsh and almost mechanical as they rasped and snarled at once. "And we want everything."

I may or may not continue this. This is not my best work, not by far, but the idea really wouldn't leave me alone even at 3:30AM. I think Dean is going to pay a very high price for interfering with the Demon's plan, and I also think that he has been a part of it just as much as Sammy. Comments, reviews, complaints, all are welcome.