Mind's Eye!

Author: Tara aka LovinJackson

Summary: BrotherhoodAU. Caleb and Dean find themselves in a deadly situation in which they only have each other to rely on. KazCon 2009 Authors Auction.

Disclaimers: I do not own Supernatural or the BrotherhoodAU. Just borrowing.

A/N1 – Back in August 2009, I entered the Authors Auction at KazCon. My wonderful friend Nana56 bought me and requested this fic. It's almost been a year now and I am finally ready to start posting. Time between posting of chapters will be no longer than two weeks in between ;) Nana, I hope this is what you want and I am sorry for taking so long *hugs* Mistakes are all my own.

Chapter 1. Broken Arrow.

"Keep going!"

The shout beside him was as desperate as the hand that suddenly connected with his shoulder, fisting in the fabric of his shirt to keep him upright and moving. They couldn't afford to slow down now because if they did they would end up like the forest ranger they had tried to protect. They would end up dead.

Dean knew that Caleb would never allow that to happen. Not if he could prevent it. The only problem was that Dean was starting to wonder if the psychic's sheer will and stubbornness would be enough to get them out of this mess.

The searing pain hit un-expectantly, causing him to cry out and sent him careening to the floor, his body jarring with the impact and taking his best friend down with him.

"Deuce!" Caleb's cry jarred him back into the real world and made the invading pain that much worse.

His hands moved towards the source of that pain - to the side of his lower back and which was now just as prominent from his stomach. He couldn't breathe; his hands were getting their first feeling of wetness as they found the source, the edge of something sharp protruding from his body.

"We have to keep moving!" Caleb growled as he lifted and pulled Dean's arm around his sturdy shoulders.

The world spun and Dean couldn't get his feet to cooperate. With every misplaced, stumbling step, Dean envisioned Mr. T punching him in the stomach, the pain of it reverberating all the way to his back and then all over his body.

Suddenly Caleb twisted, firing his .45 in rapid succession. It sounded far away and too loud all at the same time. He was gonna be sick. "Damn…" He tried to get his friend's attention but the words were lost on his lips as he gasped, almost folding in on himself.

"Shut up and keep moving, Deuce," Caleb ground out as he kept them both moving, keeping a distance between them and the danger.

Dean did as he was told, knowing that Caleb was serious, that his friend was worried, scared and he needed to help him. He could do this. He could. It was just a little bit further … wasn't it? In fact Dean had no idea where they were going or how long it would take to get there.

"Not much … further," Caleb panted, his voice broken with the effort of running and supporting the stumbling weight of Dean. It was like his friend had read his mind. The older boy was a psychic so anything was possible.

Whether he had or hadn't, Caleb hadn't been lying because suddenly pain exploded through him as he was unceremoniously dumped onto a hard rocky ground.

"Argghh!" He couldn't stop the ragged scream from escaping; but then suddenly Caleb was there again, pulling him up against his chest and covering his mouth with his hand.

"Whmm?" Dean struggled, his mind racing and not understanding the sudden restrain on his hurting body. His heart thudded in his chest, his lungs overtaxed with the mad dash they had made in retreat.

"Shhh … its okay, dude. Just keep quiet." Caleb whispered into his ear. The older man's breath brushed against his ear and face. Caleb's chest was rising and falling fast underneath him. "It's okay," Caleb reiterated after a moment.

Dean nodded and tried to control his own erratic breathing. He raised a heavy hand and placed it on Caleb's arm, giving it a quick squeeze to let him know that he had heard him and he had understood the need for stealth. He would be quiet.

Finally Caleb's hand fell away from his face and Dean sucked in a large breath. The air around them felt damp, like he could almost taste it around him. His face felt flushed. Was that sweat or the damp air leaving moisture on his skin?

Dean blinked, looking up, allowing his eyes to gaze around the dark and enclosed surroundings. Hadn't he just been in a forest? It looked like they were surrounded by rock … wet, smelly rock.

Rustling and voices directed his hazy attention to straight in front of them. Ten feet from where his boots lay was a covered opening. Vines and plant life hung over the edge of the rock, shielding some of the cave. How Damien had seen it or known to come in here, Dean didn't know.

He could hear talking … it was close and then there was movement behind their shield. Their attackers would find them. Dean's breathing picked up more speed the closer their enemy came, his chest rising and falling rapidly. The fire of his wound pounding to the speed of his fast heartbeat wasn't helping him.

"Shhh …" Caleb uttered again, placing his hand on Dean's chest.

Dean allowed his head to fall back onto Caleb's shoulder, casting his eyes back to the rocky ceiling above them and just concentrated on breathing, breathing and trying to ignore the stabbing punches in his stomach. He felt heavy, his nerves on edge, on icy fire.

He closed his eyes. He was tired. Maybe if he closed his eyes he would be able to calm himself. Voices could be heard outside of their small little cave, behind the foliage that was hiding them. Dean couldn't make out what they were saying but he didn't care. As long as they went away he didn't care.

"Deuce, you with me, buddy?"

"Hmm…" Caleb's voice wasn't by his ear anymore. In fact instead of the soft padding that had been Caleb's body, Dean could now feel hard, unforgiving ground. Had he zoned out that much?

"Dude, you're scaring the crap out of me."

A stinging slap to his cheek followed Caleb's insistent voice and Dean snapped his eyes open and jerked from his sprawled position on the ground. "Arghh! Fuck!" Dean cursed, his voice ragged as a knifing sensation ripped through his side.

"Whoa, hey, stay still," Caleb warned, placing his hands on Dean's shoulders, keeping him lying on his right side.

"What …"

"You passed out for a minute there, just take it easy, tough guy. We have a problem here."

"Really?" Dean grunted sarcastically when he managed to get some control back. He kind of figured they were in trouble when the first arrow had zipped past Caleb's head. They had been hunting a werewolf and as far as Dean remembered, werewolves didn't fire arrows at you.

Dean's gaze fell to where his hands were hovering. He couldn't press against the wound when there was a fucking arrow piercing through his back and out of his stomach. "Fuckin' hell …" Dean panted and then allowed his head to fall back against the ground.

"You'll be fine, dude," Caleb tried to assure him.

"Easy … for you to … s-say…" Dean rebutted, grinding his teeth together. He couldn't hold back the whine. It left his lips without his permission. "Get it … get it out."

"What?"

"The Arrow … get it out," Dean demanded. Every time he breathed it felt like the arrow was moving through his insides.

"I don't know whether we're supposed to."

Dean raised his head and glared at the older hunter. "Get. It. Out."

"I don't want you bleeding out, dickhead."

"Don't care … jus' do it … please …"

He closed his eyes and for a few long moments all Dean could hear was his own loud, fast breathing. He was almost about to check if Caleb was even still there when the sound of a zipper being roughly pulled open indicated the psychic moving about.

"Fucking stupid dicks with crossbows!" Caleb cursed, rustling through his bag. "Where the fuck did they even come from. I feel like we've fallen into a fucking western movie. They weren't supposed to be in these parts."

"D-Dunno…" Dean answered, trying to keep up with Caleb's ranting. The older man was still talking softly even if his voice held real anger and fear in it. But he was right. The small group of Historical re-enacters had been warned to stay out of the area because of the 'rabid dogs'. They obviously hadn't heeded the warning. But why shoot at them? "They … gone?"

"I think so but how about you let me worry about them."

"Phone?" Dean stated tiredly, deciding one worded questions could do for now. Maybe they could call for back up. Dean opened his eyes again, blinking away moisture as he watched Caleb's movements. His own hands gripped the arrow, wanting to yank it out himself.

"I tried," Caleb sighed, dumping bandages from the first aid kit on top of the bag and then moved back a little, shrugging out of his jacket. "No reception in here. I haven't tried outside the cave yet because I don't want to give away our position."

"F-Feel them?" Dean asked, trying to stop his body from shivering. It hurt when he shivered but it also hurt to tense up while the arrow was still lodged in his body. He needed it out. The longer it was still imbedded the stronger the desire to rip it out was.

"The Indian wannabes?"

Dean nodded, the sweat on his forehead causing the dirt on the ground to stick to his head.

"No, I don't. But I didn't feel them when I could hear them outside the cave either."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean …" Calen huffed. "That I can't feel them or anything else. It's you and me in here and that's it." Caleb pointed to his head.

"You mean …"

Caleb sighed. "When I couldn't sense the arrow wielding lunatics out there I tried to reach out further and got nothing. It's like a big black fucking hole, Deuce."

Dean blinked at his friend. That couldn't be good. The underlying worry on the psychic's face mirrored his own thoughts. No matter where Caleb had gained his psychic abilities, no matter what demon they had been passed down by they were still something that they had all come to rely on … especially Caleb. The fact that they seemed offline outside of this cave didn't make sense. Dean couldn't remember a time when this had happened before.

"Check again," Dean ordered, biting down on his bottom lip as he shifted, irritating the thin wood speared through him.

Caleb glared at him and threw medical tape and gauze to the floor. "I told you I already fucking tried," the older hunter snapped.

"Check your … phone, I meant," Dean clarified, taking no offence to his friend's temper. He didn't have the energy and he knew how helpless Caleb felt when his powers were on the fritz. Caleb didn't do helpless very well.

"Oh …" Caleb's temper deflated fast leaving him looking weary in its wake. Caleb's arm came to rest on his shoulder. "You want me to fix you up or make phone calls, make up your mind, dude."

"What? You c-cant multi-task?" Dean joked, applying more pressure around the wound. It felt like it was burning every time he moved. "S-Some knight you'll be."

"Bite me, bitch. Besides, who died and made you boss? I'm the senior hunter, I make the decisions."

"Senior alright."

"That hole in your side hasn't improved your sense of humour."

"Damien …" Dean pleaded. He didn't know what he was pleading for. They were stuck in an insane situation and he was feeling worse by the minute … he felt like shit.

"It's okay, dude. I'm gonna fix this," Caleb assured him.

For a few moments all was quiet in the cave which made Dean's own breathing sound louder in his ears. "Damien…"

Caleb shook out of his mental pause and moved closer to Dean. "I need you to roll over more," Caleb told him, the older boy's hands were already on him, helping him to move. "Easy … easy."

Easy was not a word that Dean would have ever associated with having an arrow sticking right through him. He didn't speak, he couldn't, not any more. It was taking all his concentration not to cry out at the pain of moving caused because he knew that if he did he would loose whatever breath he had left in his lungs.

Once he was fully on his side he could feel Caleb's hands pulling at his own that were still attempting to hold the wound. He hadn't even realised how hard he was pressing against the area, holding onto the arrow. Letting go, even though he knew Caleb was trying to help him went against his body's instinct.

"This is gonna hurt like a bitch. I'm going to have to break the end off before pulling it out."

"I … I don't care. Jus' do it." He'd done broken bones and gunshot wounds and all types of other injuries. He'd lost count over the years but he couldn't say he'd ever experienced being shot with an arrow. He didn't care how much it hurt or what Caleb had to do. He just wanted the damn thing out.

Caleb sat there for a moment, looking down at him before Dean noticed a resolve setting behind his friend's amber eyes. "Okay, hold still," Caleb told him as he climbed over Dean's body so that he was behind him.

Dean closed his eyes, a frown creasing his sweaty forehead. His hands hovered back down to where the arrow was sticking through his skin. He felt Caleb's hands on his back and tensed for what was to come. Then Caleb's hands were gone seconds before pressure was put on the arrow. The action only took a second; the sound of the wood snapping was followed by his short throaty shout.

The breath had been sucked from him entirely now. It felt like Caleb stabbed him, pushed the arrow further through his side. Before he could register anything else but the pain engulfing him, Caleb was in front of him again, hand gripping his chin.

"Hey! Stay with it," he ordered and Dean's eyes snapped up to meet his friend's.

"That's better. You wanted it out, remember?" Caleb reminded him, cocking an eyebrow daring Dean to challenge him.

"F..uck you," Dean responded through clenched teeth.

Caleb lifted a shoulder, making a face of disgust. "Nah, I think I'll pass."

Dean rolled his eyes and then his head to the ground, allowing the dirt and rock to cool his forehead. He knew what Caleb was doing and it was working.

His hands were pulled away from the front of the wound once more. He was still slightly on his side and curled inward. As much as he wanted that arrow out, his body instinctively tried to protect itself from the pain that it knew would be returning.

We're almost done, dude," Caleb told him, holding his wrist. "You ready?"

Dean nodded, pulling his wrist out of Caleb's grasp. He pressed his hand against the rock underneath him, trying to subconsciously find purchase.

"I'm gonna count to three, okay?"

"Wait," Dean demanded, breathlessly. "On three … or one, two, three and then go?"

Caleb cocked his head to the side, his hands in place, ready. "On three."

"Okay." Dean nodded. One three. He was ready … he thought.

Caleb squeezed his shoulder. "Ready?" he asked again.

"Yeah."

Hands back in position, Caleb held his gaze as he began to count. "One … two…"

TBC …

A/N2 - Well there it is folks. I didnt want to wait any longer. I know it's been a long time since I posted anything Supernatural, or Brotherhood. Nana, this is for you, I hope it doesnt suck.

Feel free to let me know what you think, guys :)

Hope you're all well :) see you soon :)

Tara x0x