Two days.

Forty-eight hours.

And a handful of minutes and seconds since Dean and Sam's world had been irrevocably changed. The passage of time meant little in the grand scheme of things. It could have been moving sluggishly, or it could have been moving at breakneck speed, and Dean would not have noticed the difference.

Sitting in his darkened room, rocking on the edge of his bed, he wound his arms around his stomach, as he tried in vain to keep the irksome tears at bay. He had already done that, he had already cried when it first happened, and it wouldn't do him any good to start again.

It was a struggle.

Each time he thought of what happened, his gut took another agonizing punch while his mind replayed over and over the events of what transpired.

Sucking in a deep breath, he bowed his head against the pain, as he fisted a handful of his shirt and brought it up to his mouth to bite down on. His body wanted him to cry, to feel the grief he was sorting through, but he would not open himself up to that pain. If he started, he was sure the tidal wave of pain and guilt would topple him whole. If it was just him, that would be one thing. But he had his little brother to consider. He was going through his own feelings.

When the worst thing had happened, his body had gone into protective mode, shielding him from the worst of it when an almost peaceful numbing sensation overtook everything else. It was when his body ripped that away from him cold turkey, did he realize just how horrendous it was to lose someone he loved, someone that had been a part of his family, someone that he respected and admired and loved.

In an often unpredictable (and dangerous) hunting world they lived in, Dean never thought that it would hit his family again, never thought that he would have to live through seeing someone else die.

For all of the death and destruction he saw when he went on hunting trips, he still had had the naivete to believe that none of the cruelness of the world would reach his peaceful and secure home, or that it would take another chunk out of his heart, and leave it broken yet again. Or that Sam would be faced with losing yet another person in his life. Already, they both had survived losing their parents at such young ages, and now they were in the same boat. Only this time, if possible, it was infinitely more heart-wrenching.

Before, Dean only had the simplest of memories of his parents to hold him over in place of the real thing, but Sam had been unfortunate enough to not have any. In some ways, it made it easier. I most other ways, it had made it extremely difficult for the then one-year-old to understand.

This time was much harder because both of them had lasting memories that would both prove to be a blessing, and a curse to their minds as they tried to solider on ahead, even though Dean couldn't imagine how they would.

This loss was crushing, shocking and completely unexpected, which he supposed was the worst kind of grief he could imagine suffering from. One second, everything was fine as he and Sam walked out the door for school that morning. The next second, everything changed for them. That person that they loved and admired, was gone, killed by the same monsters they hunted day in and day out.

Sometimes his mind played tricks on him, made him think just for one second that things weren't as they seemed, that any second, the clock would reverse and things would go back to the way they were before everything had gone to hell. Those were the few times he would allow himself to let go of some of the worst of the agony that was in his heart. Shaking his head, his mind brought him back to reality when he thought of Sam. Already he had been dealing with a terrifying ploy by the Yellow-Eyed-Demon, and strange abilities that came out of nowhere and manifested randomly.

"Dean?"

"Hey," he said, snapping his head up when Caleb walked into his darkened room.

At least he still had Caleb, at least he still him and their incredible bond they shared with each other. If it wasn't for him and for Sammy, he wasn't sure how he would have made it as far as he had, even though their tragedy had just happened two days ago.

"I tried calling you down for dinner. Sam said you were asleep."

"I tried," Dean replied, avoiding Caleb's probing gaze, as he swiped his shirt sleeve across his reddened eyes. "I couldn't."

Sleep had been elusive to him, abandoning him at a time when he most needed it in order to escape reality for just a few simple hours.

But curling up under the covers had helped. Even though he hadn't been granted the reprieve that he had been craving, it had still been nice to shut out the rest of the world momentarily, and give himself time to process everything that had happened.

It was still dizzying. Still made him want to throw up, but at least his brain had calmed down enough to at least attempt to understand what had happened, even though in reality, it was completely beyond comprehension, at least in Dean's devastated brain.

"Too much," Caleb surmised gently, as he sat down next to Dean on his bed, before pulling him close.

"Yeah," Dean admitted, trying to keep the tears at bay, at least while Caleb was in there. "I feel like crying, and I've already done that so many freakin' times!"

"I know that, but if your body is telling you to cry, do it," Caleb instructed. "Don't hold it in, Dean."

"If I start again," Dean said, as a lone tear trailed down his face. "I don't know if I'll ever be able to stop," he confessed, looking into Caleb's kind eyes. "I don't know-"

At that moment, the sobs that he had valiantly been holding back, overtook him completely, as his posture crumbled. Caleb didn't say anything for several seconds, simply pulled Dean into a hug, even though the thirteen-year-old resisted it at first. But then again, he had allowed Caleb access to parts of himself that he never let anyone else see.

"Shh," Caleb said soothingly, "shh, it will be okay, Dean. It will get easier, I promise."

"H-how?"

"I don't know, but it will. I promise."

Dean nodded, trying to take ahold of the sobs that seemed determined to keep him prisoner, as he took several deep breaths like he had been taught long ago. "Thank you."

"For what?" Caleb asked, sounding genuinely confused.

"For being here," Dean said, shaking his head. "I don't know how Sammy or me would have gotten through these last few days if it wasn't for you."

Caleb nodded. "We lost Jim, Dean, but this family is still intact. We haven't lost that, Dean. You haven't lost that."

"I just never imagined life without him. I sort of figured that he would always be there, just like you would be, and we would have this unbreakable family and it would be okay."

"I know what you mean. I've known Jim for over ten years, and when you're friends with someone for that long, and live under the same roof with someone for that long, you forget how mortal we all are."

Dean nodded, swallowing thickly. "Yeah. I just don't understand why."

Jim was a very skilled hunter who had gotten out of plenty of tight spots over the years. To have him not come home from a hunt was destabilizing in the worst way, and what Dean was having the hardest time coping with.

"You know what Jim would say if he was still here?" Caleb asked, a slight smile appearing on his face.

"What?"

"He would say that there was a reason for this, that there was a reason why he had been taken."

"Sorry, but I don't get the "reason" for this," Dean scoffed. "He may have believed that, but why us, Caleb? Why did this happen?"

"I don't know, Dean, I don't."

"You know, as if losing my parents wasn't bad enough, I have to lose one of the only people who I consider to be family?"

Caleb shook his head, feeling his heart break for the heartbroken child in front of him. "I'm so sorry, Dean."

"It's not your fault."

"I know that, but I still am sorry that you're in so much pain right now."

"At least I still have you, and Sammy, and Bobby."

If there was one bright spot, at least he still had the brother he cherished, and the two guardians that he adored, and he knew adored him and his brother.

"That's right, bud," Caleb said softly.

"I know I sound like a horrible person," Dean said, his voice full of self-disgust. "But I can't stand the idea of going to his funeral tomorrow."

It was too soon for him. His mind had barely begun the process of mourning Jim's death, and now he was expected to attend the funeral that his church was putting on for him. Not to mention the private burial his family would attend after the main service.

"It doesn't sound horrible, Dean. When my wife died, her parents insisted on doing her memorial and funeral within a day of her death, and it was too much."

Dean nodded. "That's how I feel. I don't know how I'm supposed to say goodbye to him."

How did you say goodbye to someone who he loved like a parent? And who had been killed by a demon?

"There's no right way, Dean," Caleb coached quietly. "You say goodbye to him in your own way, in your own timing, same with mourning him. You do that on your own terms. You don't have to hold yourself to anyone else and what they're doing, and how they're doing it."

Dean nodded, swallowing roughly. "Are you sure it was a demon that-"

He couldn't bring himself to say the word "killed." It seemed so final to him, and he wasn't ready to dive into that pool.

"Yeah."

Caleb had been the one to find him, and when he had, he had found sulfur near where he had been found. It was the earmark of demonic presence. After they got through the initial phases of their grief, Dean knew they would have to investigate what exactly killed him. As that thought took root in his mind, a fresh avalanche of guilt overtook him faster than he could control it. He knew what Jim would think of his assumptions, but trying to drive them away was like pushing against a brick wall.

Glancing at Caleb out of the corner of his eye, he knew his steadfast presence was a safe space to divulge just what he was feeling. Steeling himself against that, he knew that Caleb would contradict his argument with something that was entirely too logical.

"Did...I...did I do this? Did I kill him?"

Caleb looked at him with nothing but utter love and pain. "Dean, why in the hell would you think that?"

"Because I was the one that found the damn case. I gave him all the crap I found on those mutilations, and then he got-"

"Dean, Jim was a grown man. He made the choice to go investigate that case. I know for a fact he looked into it more before he went to scout it. You did not do this. This is not on you, Dean."

"Maybe my facts were wrong!"

It had been a fear he had wrestled with since the very moment he found out about Jim. In theory, he knew what Caleb was saying was true, but he could not let go of the nagging voice that whispered those feelings to him. The case seemed cut and dry, but now he could not be sure. It seemed impossible that Jim would be cut down by a run-of-the-mill demon.

"Maybe so. But I know that you have very good instincts when it comes to these kinds of things. Come on," Caleb urged, patting Dean's knee. "Let's get you some food. You need it."

"Yeah, I guess."

He knew he would need all the strength he could muster.


AN:

I just can't stay away. This has been something that has been in the works for a long time now. And actually, this death was originally supposed to go to Caleb. I can't believe I even thought of killing Caleb, but I did. I had a whole death scene written for him and everything. As the details of Jim's death trickle in, it sets our small family on the path to revenge.