That Which Does Not Kill Us
Chapter 11
Disclaimer: see chapter 1

Two weeks later-New York…

June 28, 1993

This will be my last entry in this Journal. I am giving it to you today. I had planned on giving it to you upon your graduation from college, but recent events has made it clear to me that this is something I should not keep hidden from you any longer.

First off I want you to know that the day I started this Journal was exactly a week after you came to live with me. It was started as a way for me to help you with your abilities, but became a place that I would write my thoughts and fears. As you read through this book you will find my ONLY fears were that I would fail you as a father.

I was a bachelor in his early thirties and you were a challenging pre-teen who seemed mad at the world and was reluctant to trust anyone. However the moment I walked into that hospital room and saw what that so called doctor had done to you, I felt an anger swell inside me like I had never known. I had never wanted to protect someone so much in my life as I did you, finding you nearly comatose that day.

Then a few days later with the terrible event involving Daniel, when I entered that hospital basement and saw you deathly still, Daniel standing over you, I had never wanted to kill another person so much as I had at the time, but you were my main concern. I'll never forget when we got back to your room and I asked you what you wanted and you said you wanted out of that place. My first and only thought was to take you home with me, to protect you. I have never regretted that phone call I made, allowing you to become my foster son, which led to one of the happiest days of my life-when you agreed to allow me to adopt you.

I learned over these last almost ten years that there are only two things that can terrify a parent more than anything; the fear of your child being hurt and the fear that your child is dead. I had always wanted to protect you, that is why I was so resistant when you wanted to become more involved in the Brotherhood, I knew what that entailed and it scared me that I would be allowing you to be exposed to that. But I have watched over the years as you have grown in to a capable hunter, but I will always worry about you.

However it was with this last encounter that I felt my world crumble. As I watched that thing stab you, then drag you from the room, I had never felt so useless and so much a failure as I had at that moment. I had failed you, failed to protect you. I had sat there and allowed that shifter to kill my only son before my eyes and done nothing to stop it. I am not ashamed to say my world stopped at that moment. I did not want to go on living if you were dead.

Waking up in that hospital bed, Jim at my side, I feared the worst, I feared that you had been taken from me. I pleaded with Jim to tell my you were still alive and when he did tell me, I cried. I cried with relief that I was being given a second chance with my son. Seeing you the first time when I was allowed in the ICU, everything came crashing down on me, what I could have lost. I vowed at that moment that I would give this journal to you; I would answer any questions you had to ask of me. I would no longer hide things from you.

This Journal was never a way for me to establish a pattern of behavior between you and your father. That thought never entered my mind. I want you to understand that what may be 'rumored' to be in your families past is just that-past. You are you; you are Caleb Thomas Reaves, a soon to be college graduate, a budding architect who will undoubtedly accomplish many great things. You are a member of the Brotherhood, a fearless fighter who wants nothing more than to protect those around him. But most importantly you are my Son, a young man I have watched grow from that scared (and yes I know you were scared, even if you never admitted it-remember I'm psychic too) twelve-year old boy into a very capable young man that any one would be proud to call their son and I feel extremely lucky that I am the one who has that honor.

So as my final entry comes to a close, NEVER forget I will ALWAYS believe in you, I will ALWAYS trust you, I will ALWAYS be here for you. But most importantly I will ALWAYS love you!

Mac closed the black leather bound book, laying his glasses to the side. His thoughts drifted to the young man he had left in the living room, lounging in the recliner, still recovering from the stab wound. Mac's own wounds were nearly healed. The stitches on his neck had been removed only yesterday leaving a faint scar line; the doctor had suggested he give it a few months to see how much of the scar would fade and if he still felt the need to do something about it he could consult with a plastic surgeon. His bruises were now fading to the yellowish hue that came before they would fade all together.

They had remained in Arkansas for five days after Caleb woke up, the doctors wanting to keep the younger man for observation. John and Bobby had returned to the road and though Jim had asked that Mac and Caleb return to the farm to recover, Mac felt the need for them to return to New York. The days between Caleb waking and being released were reserved, neither man speaking much about what had happened while the shifter had held them captive, but Mac knew there were issues that the creature had brought to the surface that they would have to discuss before long and the book in front of him was one of those issues.

Standing the Scholar picked up the Journal and carried it into the living room, laying it on the table next to the couch. "How are you feeling Son?" Mac asked as he took a seat across from the young man in question.

Caleb's abilities had started to straighten out once the concussion and pain medication finally wore off. He was able to pick up on the emotion coming from his father, looking at the older man Caleb answered, "I'm good Dad…" Caleb put the recliner down and switched off the television. "Are you okay?" The young hunter caught a glimpse of the book at the end of the couch.

Mac cleared his throat, knowing this conversation needed to take place, but fearing his son's reaction. "I think we need to talk about what happened, about what that thing said."

Caleb leaned forward a little, a slight twinge of pain reflecting on the younger man's face at the pull on his incision. "Dad, I don't know if…"

Mac cut him off, "I need you to understand a few things, and I have to admit I'm concerned about how you may react to some of the answers to the questions that I know you have."

The younger man rubbed his face, blowing out a deep breath. The one question that was forefront in Caleb's mind, the one that had haunted him since he had became more coherent at the hospital, memories of the events in that basement returning with more clarity. "Okay, if you want to talk…" Caleb tried to keep the clipped tone from his voice, but it was something that really bothered him. "Look Dad, I know shifters can pull random thoughts and fears from our memories, but did you really think that thing was me in that warehouse, where it said it attacked John?" Caleb's heart sank as he watched Mac drop his gaze to the floor.

The older man slowly raised his gaze to meet his son's and saw fear and anger looking back at him, "Caleb, what you have to understand…"

"God, you did didn't you?…How the hell could you think that was me?" Caleb stood quicker than he intended, nearly doubling over with pain as his stomach muscle pulled.

Mac was quickly on his feet, next to his son, "Caleb?"

"I'm fine." the young man growled out between clinched teeth, using the back of the chair to help hold himself up.

"Please Son, you have to understand, from the time you called and told me what you thought you were hunting I had a bad feeling, something wasn't right with any of it." Mac reached for his son again, "Please, sit back down."

Reluctantly Caleb allowed his father to help guide him back to the chair. Easing his son down Mac continued. "When I arrived at you motel room and John was there, I knew something was wrong, I just didn't know what. Then it walked in and…" Mac again sat across from his son, "It was acting just like you, talking like you do, interacting with John like you normally do, but something was still off. I could feel something was wrong, I didn't realize until later that it was using its own psychic like abilities to block any access I was trying, but somehow it was linking with your abilities which caused the blocks to feel like yours but different, do you understand?"

Caleb looked at his father, the anguish he saw in his father's face washed some of the anger he wanted to feel, away. "Maybe a little, but how could you have ever thought it was me that attacked John?"

Mac ran his hand over his face, his eyes filling with moisture, shame feeling his soul. "I don't know, I really don't know. I know that has always worried you, every since you had started researching your families history, you always worried that you would somehow repeat your families past. That shifter must have picked up on that from you and them picked up my worry about you feeling that way and was somehow able to project that fear onto the situation. You've got to understand, up to that point John thought it was you and was only taking minimal interest in my concerns that something was off. I'm not blaming John, but from the beginning for me nothing felt right."

The father reached over and took his son's hand in his, "Please believe me, I am so sorry for allowing any doubt, even for the few seconds, to enter my mind. I have always trusted you and will always trust you and I am so very sorry for the pain that this has caused you, I have never wanted to do anything that would hurt you."

Caleb reached for his father's face as a tear escaped the older man's eyes. "I know that evil bastard enjoyed messing with us and that it was twisting everything to inflict as much pain as possible. I think I can put it behind me if you can. I've never doubted how you feel about me Dad, it may be a pain in the ass sometimes…" Both men chuckled slightly, "But I'm glad to know I have someone out there who cares about me as much as you do, thank you."

Mac watched as his son glanced toward the end table, then Caleb's golden gaze met his, "I guess it wasn't lying about the journal?"

Mac stood, walking the few feet to retrieve the leather bond book, "No, the Journal is real, but not for the purpose that it tried to have you believe." The Scholar took his seat again, holding the book between his hands. "This Journal was started with one purpose and one purpose only. To help me to try and better help you with your abilities. What you need to understand Son, is that when I first met you and you came to live with me, I had never known a person with such powerful psychic abilities as you have." Caleb leaned back in the chair to relieve some of the pressure on his healing wound as Mac started flipping through the text. "All the research I had done when my own abilities started to manifest had never prepared me for the complexity and strength of your gifts. The relaxation techniques I tried to teach you, the concentration exercises I had you practice, that was all trail and error. I was trying to go with what worked with my own gifts and tried to figure out ways to customize them for you, that's why some things worked and others didn't. I, in essence, was learning with you."

Caleb smiled slightly at his father, "Well, you sure had me convinced you know what you were doing."

"That was the idea," Mac returned the smile, "I needed you to believe it would work and that is what allowed for many of the steps we took to work. You must understand, your abilities will more than likely continue to improve, become more 'fine tuned' if you will, but this is a learning process for both of us, that's why I kept this, so I could remember what we had tried, what worked in the past and what didn't, so if something new every showed up I could help you to deal with it." Mac's expression took on one of concentration as he looked at his Son, "But more importantly, more important than anything concerning your abilities are some of the other entries you will find in this book. But there is one thing you will NOT find in here and that is any reference to your family or any connection to them, this is about you, but it is also about me."

Mac stood and walked toward the mantel that held some of the photos that had been taken of Caleb over the last ten years, "You have to understand I was scared to death when I brought you home with me. I didn't know the first thing about being a father." Mac turned and looked at Caleb, "Up until the moment I walked into your hospital room all those years ago, I had not had to worry about another person aside from myself. That all changed the instant I saw you and that scared me, I was afraid I would screw up, that I would make your life worse because I didn't know what I was doing, that's what you will find in these pages." Mac walked over to his son, handing the young man the book.

Caleb reached a shaking hand toward the Journal, he had never heard, nor expected the outpouring of emotion his father was showing him. The feelings the young psychic was picking up from the older man were; anxiety, fear, hope, understanding, but the one that stood out the most was love. "Are you sure?"

Once releasing the book into his son's hand, Mac took his hand and cupped the side of Caleb's face, "I've never been more sure about anything, no more secrets. Just always remember…" Mac leaned over and kissed the top of his son's head "you are the most important person in my life, I will always be here for you and I will always love you." With that Mac left the room.

Caleb watched his father go, tears stinging his own eyes. He glanced down at the black leather book; anguish to see what was inside, but also afraid of what he would find. Taking a deep breath the young man opened the Journal to the first page:

November 11, 1983,

Caleb has been a part of my life for only a week, but I am finding it difficult to remember my life without him in it. I have never cared about another person so much in my life and I am scared to death…

A/N: First I want to thank everyone who took the time to read and review my story. I really appreciate the fact you guys take the time and enjoy my writing enough to come back again and again.
Second, Thanks to all the wonderful Brotherhood writers who help to inspire my own stories. I expecially want to thank Ridley again for creating such a wonderful Universe to write in. Then of course there is
Mr. Kirpke with whom we would never have discovered our dear Winchester men. Who would have know the amazing writing that world has helped create?
I have another story in the works and Visions is still floating around in my brain, hopefully my muse will come back to me on that one soon. I hope you all enjoyed my story and hope to see you all again soon--Montez