"Offerings & Takings" by: Tidia

Disclaimer: see chapter 1 1

Beta: Household Six

Dean didn't leave a message as he was sent to Caleb's voicemail. His number would show up as a missed call anyway. That was good enough. He and Sam had promised to keep in touch, call every few days. The three of them were supposed to set up a hunt together, but with two hundred demons out there, they were stretched thin.

In the meantime, Dean had noticed their conversations were becoming distant, a byproduct of Gideon's death and his deal. He didn't know if the separation was a good idea, worrying that it might actually be making it easier for him to die at the end of the year.

On the other hand, when Sam talked to Caleb, they seemed to be getting closer. It was probably the common goal: to keep him out of Hell.

Dean set the phone down between him and Sam.

"He didn't answer?" Sam asked from the passenger seat of the Impala.

Dean shrugged his shoulders. "Must be busy."

"Look, man, you've got to give him some time."

Dean ignored his brother. Time was something he didn't have. He couldn't change his decision and had nothing left to give. He was trying to do what was best for his brother; The Brotherhood came second. They could find another Guardian, one better for the job. "Tick tock," he said as his phone rang. It was Caleb.

"What?" Reaves said in lieu of a greeting.

"You said you wanted to keep in touch, Damien," Dean frowned, but answered in an unaffected tone. "I'm keeping in touch."

A distinctive sigh weighted the phone connection, followed by Caleb's growling reply. "So that you can lie to me?"

Dean reached over, slapping his brother's arm so he would pay attention to the conversation. "Lie? What are you talking about?"

"That slut, Bela Talbot, and then I find out you two are hanging out with a demon?"

"Bela keeps sniffing around us." Dean mouthed 'Bobby.' The older hunter had informed the Winchesters he was not going to be their secret keeper.

"She's bad news, and the demon's not a good idea either. Next thing I hear, you'll be her bitch."

"I'm no one's bitch. Talk to Sammy about that." Dean hadn't met Ruby, but he'd heard enough about her that he didn't want to get to know her better. A dead demon was the best demon of all.

"Gladly. Pass the phone over."

Dean raised his eyebrows. "He wants to talk to you."

Sam sat up straighter, accepting the cell phone. "Hey, Caleb. Yes. I know. But. Right. And I can. Yes." Sam was struggling to interject. He glanced at Dean. "The same goes for you. Okay. Bye." Sam flopped the phone back into Dean's hand, and then slumped in the passenger seat again, looking defeated.

"Looks like you told him," Dean commented and received a lovely hand gesture from Sam for his concern.

"Hell, kill both of them if you can. You'd be doing the world a favor. Hold on a minute."

Dean heard the sound of the phone being muffled.

"Back."

"What's the matter with you, Damien?" Caleb seemed edgier on the phone. Hunters were a violent group, but it was unlike Caleb to make a killing an outright recommendation. "Don't get me wrong — it's nice to know you aren't going soft, but you seem off."

Caleb cleared his throat. "Nothing. Just been busy, and now I'm stuck babysitting the biggest bitch."

It seemed to Dean an attempt to hide what was bothering him. Another person keeping secrets, as if they didn't have enough of that going around. Dean wouldn't push, though; it wasn't like he had been a paragon of truth-telling lately either. "Do tell. Is she hot?"

Reaves snorted. "Aggie's cold hearted. I have to escort the old hag to the big witch summit that Mac arranged."

She didn't sound like someone Dean wanted to meet, not that it mattered what he wanted. It was typical. He hadn't heard about a meeting. Mac was in charge after all; Dean didn't want the responsibility. However, he was still worried — witches weren't to be trusted. "With the heads of all the families? Right, 'cause that's a brilliant plan. You know how that turned out in The Godfather. I thought you were going to get Mac a copy? Should be required viewing in The Brotherhood."

"Maybe for Christmas."

"You better stick around in case someone uses the opportunity to take everyone out." Dean thought of a better suggestion. "You wanna meet up? Three sets of eyes watching over those witches? Make sure Mac gets out of there alive?" It sounded flip, but at the same time, it worried Dean how real the possibilities sounded.

"Sounds good. We're meeting at the Ritz Carlton in D.C."

"The Ritz in D.C.? I think we can make it." Dean hit his brother's leg then gave the thumbs up sign. He loved staying at the swanky places.

"You sure it's a good idea for us to go to D.C.?" Sam added.

His brother could be a killjoy. Dean was not going to be deterred. "Sammy, haven't you heard about hiding in plain sight?"

"Maybe Sam has a point . . . "

Dean cut off Caleb's reply. Since Vegas, he had wanted more opportunities to have fun together. This was perfect timing. "Can we wear those earpieces? We'll be like Mac's secret service." He grinned at his brother. Sam was shaking his head. "Do we get to stay at The Ritz? Sammy wants to know. Since Vegas, he's become a snob over our usual motels."

"Shut up," Sam retorted.

Caleb laughed. He knew them so well, he was probably envisioning the conversation. "I'll spring for a suite."

Dean knew Sam would be momentarily indignant but then acquiesce once, when put in the situation, he actually had fun. It was Sammy's way. "Sweet."

Reaves sighed again. "I have to go bring her highness dinner. I'll see you in D.C."

"Take care." Dean was still worried. However, they seemed to reach an accord, and he didn't want the temporary angst truce to break.

Dean slipped the phone in his pocket. Sam was staring out the window as they drove, now with a destination in mind. "What'd he say to you?"

"You know Caleb," Sam replied with a noncommittal shrug.

Dean did know Caleb and his brother. They were hatching a plan to save him from Hell. He appreciated it but didn't want to risk putting Sam in jeopardy. He wanted his brother to stay alive. Otherwise, what was the point? "And I know you. Sam, if you two are up to something dangerous — "

Sam interrupted with a pointedly sharp look. "Dean, we're gonna do what it takes. Live with it."

He was trying. At first it had been freeing, but as time was running out and with so much trouble before them, he wanted to stay to fight along Sam and Caleb. To live alongside Sam and Caleb.

Sam had a point. An Impala in D.C. in her condition would be noticeable. He should call them back. They could still come into D.C. but leave it in storage and rent a car. Caleb, Mac, and the other hunters connected to the Winchesters had been fortunate. Carolyn, a member of The Scholar's Geek Squad, made sure their names remained out of any investigation. It gave them complete freedom of movement. There were, however, precautions taken when they met up with the Winchester brothers.

Caleb squared his shoulders, holding the tray of food the hotel had made to his specific instructions. He wished he could have convinced them to add a sprinkle of cyanide to Agatha's meal. To think, they'd thought he was joking.

He came up on her door, pausing for a moment as he sensed more than one person in the room. He put the food down, pulling his gun from the well-hidden ankle holster. There were two men in the room with Agatha.

He went to his room, quietly entering. He crept across the carpeted hotel room floor to the adjoining door. They weren't talking, which meant they were waiting for him.

Caleb attempted to use his psychic abilities but was immediately blocked. He didn't know if it was Agatha's block extending past her or if Griffin had taught them a skill. His finger put pressure on the trigger, and he revealed himself.

"I think you boys better g-g-go."

The two large men didn't answer. One of them held a taser, firing as soon as Caleb entered, making him stutter his words. Reaves stumbled to his knees, trying to make sense of the electricity coursing through his body until numbness and loss of control over his body set in.

He was stunned. He heard the footsteps and the door slamming, but still he remained on the floor. It took him a half an hour to get on his hands and knees. Caleb sat on his haunches, taking deep breaths to rid himself of the tingling sensation. Finally he was able to move to the bed. It took a moment to reorient himself, but once his head cleared a bit, he looked around the room. There was no evidence of a struggle, but Agatha was old, even though she failed to admit it. She would be on the losing end of an altercation.

Caleb reminded himself of the tracking device. He pulled out his phone, scrolled to Alison. He had to leave her a voicemail when she didn't answer. Caleb was somewhat glad since it gave him more time to recover. He wondered how long the pins and needles sensation in his fingers would last. She called back fairly quickly.

"You called?"

He pushed back his sleeves, rubbing his wrists and fingers. The prickling was irritating the scabbing burn marks left by the demon possession. Yeah, when this was done, he wanted some downtime in his home in New York City. "I need you to use that tracking device."

"You lost her?" Alison said in disbelief.

Caleb bristled at the incorrect terminology. "She was taken."

"Caleb, this is an important meeting. Your father's worked hard to arrange everything. . . ."

He didn't want her chastising him. Every time he called The Geek Squad, he got a lecture instead of them answering his request. He was The Knight-To-Be, a respected position. He wondered how John had dealt with them or even if he had utilized them. John Winchester had kept his circle of trust very small. At the moment, it was starting to feel like a good plan to him, too. "I know, Alison. Just give me the information."

There were five minutes of silence before her reply. "She is moving north."

Reaves frowned, expecting Alison to elaborate. "Anything else?"

"Lose the attitude. This isn't NASA, Caleb. It's a hybrid of a GPS system. It'll take me some time."

"Call me back." He rubbed a hand over his head in frustration, making his headache worse. He lay back on the bed, hearing his pounding heart as it pulsed in his ears. He propped the phone against his ear to make his next phone call.

"Dude, the way you keep calling me, people are gonna talk," Dean said as he answered the phone.

Caleb smirked, not replying even though he initiated the phone call. He didn't know how they had come this far in their respective roles for it to end with Dean going to Hell. Maybe it was his D'Artagnan complex, but he had to believe good or some facsimile of good was going to win. But as time ticked by, he became more frustrated with Dean and the situation.

"Damien, you with me? What the hell happened?"

Caleb sat up. "I gotta get the bitch back."

Sam walked in behind Dean, searching out the cafeteria diner off the highway where they had decided to meet Caleb. They had shared driving duties so that one man could nap for a spell. Sam stifled a yawn as he looked for Caleb.

Dean found him first, corner booth with a view of the door and an exit behind him. Dean remained standing; Sam slid into the booth. Dean put out his hand in greeting.

Sam noticed Caleb was hesitant for a moment before he grabbed Dean's forearm. "I just got here myself."

Dean nodded. "We gave up a night at the Civil Motel." He gestured to the line of people placing their orders. "I need a cup of coffee. Hell, we all need one. Wait here and I'll place the order."

Sam studied the older man while he was too busy to notice since he was watching Dean. "You look rough."

"Lack of sleep," Caleb said, diverting his attention to Sam.

Reaves's face was filled with shadows and angles. There was much more weighing him than sleepless nights. "No, it isn't. What is going on with you?"

Caleb smiled. "Nothing, Sam. What's going on with you?"

Sam called Caleb on his blatant lie. Before the older hunter could stop him, he roughly grabbed Caleb's arm and pulled up the sleeve to reveal burn marks up and down his arm. "You know what I mean."

"Stay the hell outta my head." Reaves pulled his arm back, bringing the shirt over the marks. "I'm just embracing my inner demon, like what Rose said. I've decided to stop fighting who I am and use it to my advantage — to Deuce's advantage."

"Yeah. It really looks like it's working for you."

"Maybe you should try it." He crossed his arms. "But I guess you already did. Blowing away the Crossroads Demon? Or how about all the time you're spending with that bitch, Ruby?"

Sam was taken aback by the venom in Caleb's voice, breaking the psychic link he had momentarily had with him. He had seen Caleb possessing a lesser demon just as Caleb had seen him killing the Crossroads Demon. Damn. They both should have been telling each other what was going on, but not like this. After Dean had told Caleb about his deal he had made for Sam's life, they had spoken, vowing to keep Dean safe in this world. But each wanted to be the hero, taking matters into their own hands without providing a united front. Instead, it was leading to more trouble. "Didn't change anything."

"You should have talked to me first. I thought we were working together."

"We are." Sam felt like he was ten years old, being scolded as if he was a child. "I just thought — "

"That's the problem," Caleb interjected.

"What the hell does that mean?" Sam frowned at Caleb's hostility. "Is your piss poor attitude some kind of side effect from what you've been doing? You need to stop."

"Or what? You'll tell The Scholar?"

"Even better — The Guardian. Don't you think Dean's going to notice?" The youngest Winchester was calculating. He wasn't about to allow Caleb to sacrifice his soul. There was too much of that going around him already.

"Just don't say anything." Caleb jutted his chin. "Three heart attacks on a plate? Mac will be proud."

Dean was behind him, maneuvering two trays of food. He gave them each a plate and a cup of coffee before sitting down next to Sam.

"So what've you got?" Dean asked as he ate a strip of bacon.

"They're in West Virginia, North Carolina border, in a town called Jameson."

"How do you know all that?" Sam asked in surprise.

Caleb winked, returning to what was almost normal as he toyed with his food. "I put a little tracker on her. It's called the mini-hunter."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Real original on the name. Where do we get these toys?"

"Alison. She'll hook you up."

"Think she'll let me watch?" Dean nudged Sam.

Sam pushed Dean back, disgusted by his poor joke.

"You wish," Caleb retorted with a laugh.

Sam cleared his throat. "How did we get into a conversation about sex?"

"I thought you learned when you were seventeen?" Caleb waved a piece of bacon at him. "Is it time for another visit to the Red Caboose?"

Dean shook his head. "God, I love that place."

For a moment Sam took in the scene. The joking and laughter tempered with the seriousness of the situation that was their usual course. He wished they could remain like this. However, they were fraying at the edges, their individual threads pulled in different directions. No one was mentioning arranging a trip to The Red Caboose, possibly Dean's last.

"So the plan is to go in and extract?" Dean sobered, focused on the hunt again.

Caleb gave a nod. "With the least amount of collateral damage."

They finished their meals, Caleb going to the truck with the plan to park it in a garage in Charlotte and then ride with the Winchesters the rest of the way.

Dean and Sam got into the Impala. Sam noticed Dean watch Caleb step into the truck and drive ahead of them.

"He's off," Sam stated the obvious in an understatement.

"Yeah, I noticed." Dean put the car in gear and followed the truck out of the diner's parking lot.

Sam waited for his brother to elaborate, became angry when there was no further reaction from Dean. "He's your best friend. Are you going to say anything?"

Dean glanced at his brother. "Ya know, Sam, in my old age I figured out something: it'll come out eventually."

Sam placed two fingers on the bridge of his nose, willing himself to calm down. "That's what you used to say about the blood stains on the laundry when I was twelve." Sam opened his mouth to say Dean was wrong, but then he would have to reveal he was harboring a secret, too. Sam had decided Dean was not ready to hear about their mother's possible connection to the Yellow-Eyed Demon. He couldn't ask Dean to press Caleb about his secret. He didn't know if Caleb has seen it in his mind. He was not about to ask.

"You were going to say something?" Dean's eyebrows rose.

"You're right." Sam looked out the passenger side window. "It'll come out . ." He dropped his head against the window, yawning for some more sleep. "Eventually."