"Offerings and Takings"  by: Tidia

Beta: Household Six

Disclaimer: I surely do not own Supernatural, and Ridley C. James created the Brotherhood universe

Dean and Sam were silent in the front seat of the Impala watching the hotel, specifically room 320 on the top floor. Caleb was in the backseat sleeping, having dropped off the truck in Charlotte. Alison had narrowed down Agatha's location and said she would call if there was a change in status.

The car had lulled Caleb to sleep. Sam slept on and off also, giving Dean time to think. He hated seeing them both so exhausted. They were both trying to save him, and he wanted them to succeed. It was hard to sit on the sidelines, unable to risk participation. He wouldn't cause Sam's death.

He was going to Hell. When he got there, he was afraid they would twist him, use him against those he cared about. Then Caleb or Sam or maybe both would have to kill him. But like he couldn't kill Sam, he wondered if they could kill him, and if they did, at what price to their souls?

"Kill me now," he mumbled aloud. Thinking sucked.

"What?" Sam asked from the passenger seat where he stared out the window.

"We should so give him a mohawk." Dean glanced over his shoulder to the sleeping older hunter.

Sam shook his head with a smile. "That's not a good idea."

So Dean thought of another idea. He raised his eyebrows. "Pass me the bag of M & M's."

Sam hesitantly passed his brother the coated candies. "What are you going to do?"

Dean grinned wide. "Wake him up."

His brother knew him too well. "He could choke."

"God, you are such a mother hen." Dean lined up his shot into Caleb's open mouth. The first one hit his nose, resulting in Caleb twitching. Dean tried again, this time successful.

"Yes!" Dean raised his arms.

Reaves's eyes open wide; he darted up from his boneless position. "What the hell?" Caleb spat out the offending candy. "I could've choked!"

'That's what I said." Sam glanced at his brother. "But better that than him going with his first idea of giving you a mohawk."

"What's with you and hair?" Caleb reached out, slapping the side of Dean's head. "You used to threaten to braid Sammy's hair. Something you want to say to us, Deana?"

"Shut up." Dean rubbed the spot Caleb had tagged.

"Where are we?" Reaves wiped a hand down his face, scrubbing away the remnants of sleep.

"We're at the Lancaster Motel," Sam said, glancing at his brother.

"We got here a while ago," Dean divulged. He would rather lay down his reasoning before Caleb had a chance to rant. "Don't start with me either, Reaves. You needed the sleep. Didn't help though —you're still not as handsome as me."

Caleb rolled his eyes, easily seen in the rearview mirror. "I'm in another league: the whole package — charm, brains . . . "

"Next you'll say 'personality'. You realize only ugly chicks say that." Dean knew then just how off they were; bantering took a little more effort.

"The clerk said three people checked in to room 320 and the adjoining room. She took down the car registration. It's not here in the lot," Sam stated, returning to the matters at hand, reining them in as usual.

Dean turned around, his back facing the driver's side window. "Sam called Alison on your phone, and she said the tracking signal is still stable and we're in the right place. She ran that plate, belongs to an obvious alias of Francis Jones. She also said Sammy's her favorite. Suck up."

"She's going to send me a book on Vladimir Nabokov."

"Suck up," Caleb and Dean said at the same time. Dean assumed that Caleb also didn't recognize the name.

"Thanks for the nap, but I think it's time for us to check out the rooms." They parked in the back of the motel. Sam went in to request a room for the night, giving them a reason to be on the premises.

Caleb took lead with Sam in the middle and Dean watching their backs. This part helped center Dean again. It didn't take near the amount of effort that everything else seemed to these days. Together like this, there was the veneer on top, the pull of Hell underneath, and then the fact they had an unbreakable bond at their core. He knew they would get back on track with the rest of it with time. They all had confidence being together.

Caleb stopped at the door and held up his hand for them to stop. He frowned. "I don't think anyone's inside."

Sam bent down with his lock picking tools. In less than a minute, the door was opened, and they crept in as quietly as they could while still looking natural. The room was unnaturally dark. They heard a strange noise. Dean placed his hand on the wall, finding the light switch, illuminating the room with the overhead light.

"There's a body on the bed." Sam ran over to the body, checking the pulse.

Dean and Caleb stood over him. "Wow, she's amazing. Gorgeous." Dean felt his mouth drop open. She looked like a super model with her dark shiny long hair, plump lips, smooth skin, and a wondrous body.

"She's dead," Sam reminded them, looking up at both men with a frown.

"Too bad," Dean sighed.

Caleb reached out and touched a pin on her shirt. "I gave that tracker to Agatha Hennings."

Dean kept his eyes roaming the body, for purely professional reasons only. "How did she get it?"

Caleb shook his head, crouched down close to Sam. "Those are the same clothes Aggy was wearing when I saw her."

"What are you saying?" Dean rubbed the back of his neck. "I hope you're not sayin' —"

Caleb nodded. "I think that might be Agatha Hennings." Reaves placed a hand over his eyes.

"But you said she was old, and well, she's hot, man. That's unfair," Dean sputtered. He also didn't understand how it was even possible. When he had become old, back when Sam was at Stanford, the sirens had been involved. This was the opposite. They had never run into anything that could return youth. And why the subterfuge; if she wanted to be young again, then why involve Caleb and wait for the summit? It didn't make sense.

"She's dead, Dean," Sam said again, standing up. "If this was Agatha Hennings, something went wrong. I don't think she intended to die."

"With a body like that? I don't think so." Dean moved his foot so it touched Caleb's. "If you are right, any idea on how this could happen?"

Caleb placed his hands on his knees, using them to push himself up. "No idea, other than she was a witch." Reaves groaned, "God. I'm going to have to call Mac and tell him, aren't I?"

"Hey, what if this was a mob hit gone bad?"

"Dude, Jim was right." Caleb smirked, and then hit Dean on the back of his head. "Not everything relates to The Godfather."

"Didn't Mac tell you that Griffin was involved? I say The Godfather makes perfect sense."

"Guys, look over here." Sam stood in front of one the walls.

"What the hell is this?" Dean studied the sienna and ash colored graffiti on the wall. He got up closer, touching it. "Smells like sage."

"I think runes, maybe, I don't know." Sam shook his head.

"Guess we'll have to call in our consultant."

Dean figured Caleb was calling Josh, their resident witch. The muscle along his jaw automatically twitched.

"Cell is off or he's ignoring it. Let me try one other number." Caleb put his cell phone on speaker when a voice said the name of the public relations company. "Joshua Sawyer, please."

"He's in a meeting. He can't be disturbed," said the voice over the phone.

"Oh, God." Dean caught his brother's attention. He mouthed 'Drew,' who was one of the administrative assistants at the public relations firm. Drew also had a crush on Caleb, Dean and Sam.

"Drew, its Caleb Reaves. How are you?"

"Good, haven't seen you in awhile," Drew replied in a hush tone. "What's it been, like one hundred and two days? Not that I'm counting."

Caleb shook his head. Dean elbowed his brother; they both smirked at the older hunter.

"I really need to speak to Josh. Very important, could even say family related."

An evil grin lit Dean's face as he tapped his brother and hooked a thumb at Reaves. He asked his brother, "How much do you want to wager Mac and Esme run away to Vegas to get hitched?"

Caleb retorted by using an obscene gesture, making Dean laugh.

"Big, big, meeting, Caleb. They weren't supposed to be disturbed under any circumstances," Drew said.

Caleb sighed, "I'll owe you."

"Give me five minutes; he'll take the call in his office."

"Way to take one for the team, Damien." Dean put his thumbs up. His brother put them down.

"He's going to kill you," Sam added with a grin. He was enjoying Caleb's awkward position as much as his brother was.

"This is in no way taking one for the team," Caleb replied, then distinctly muttered, "Stupid idiots."

Sawyer and Reaves would never be brothers in any sense; friends were only recently a possibility. Joshua had covered them — saved them by killing a human he had once been friends with, in fact — even forsaken his father, but years of distrust were hard to erase. It had been agreed that Sawyer would not know about the deal Dean had made with the Crossroad Demon.

"I must be an idiot for taking this call. I'm at work. A job, I might add, that provides me a roof over my head, one I would like to keep," Joshua said with an irate tone.

"Sorry, this was important."

"Enough that he has a date with Drew," Dean snickered.

"Caleb, am I on speakerphone?"

"Yes, you are."

"Take me off."

Reaves ignored Sawyer's phone postulating. "Listen, Sammy's going to send some pictures to your cell phone."

At the prompt, Sam pulled out his phone, taking a few photos.

"Of what? Camera pictures rank as important?"

Caleb raked a hand through his hair. "I was assigned to escort Agatha Hennings —"

"The Agatha Hennings?"

"You're not going to go all fan girl, are you?" Caleb snorted.

"She's very powerful."

"She's a bitch, too."

Dean looked at the dead body —figures someone that bad was in such a pretty package. It was downright sad. He doubted Caleb was exaggerating; he was a gentleman when it came to motherly women. Not having a mother tended to do that to a guy.

"My grandmother mentioned that." Joshua paused. "Escort her where?"

"Didn't you know about the witches' summit?" Caleb sent a questioning look at the Winchester brothers. From what Caleb had told them, Esme was pivotal in making the arrangements.

"No, not at all."

"Aggy got herself kidnapped. We found her, but she's no longer a cranky eighty-year-old."

"Remind me not to hire you as a bodyguard. And can you be a little more specific on what happened to her?"

"She's young again but dead."

"Plastic surgery would have been better, like that guy on E!" Neither him nor his brother was squeamish when it came to blood, but Sam couldn't take watching the show about plastic surgeons in California. He really enjoyed the breast augmentations — well, the after of the surgery, mostly.

"Hold. I'm receiving Sam's message."

"You think she was friends with Sawyer's grandmother? The way you describe Agatha, well, she and Jocelyn don't seem to have much in common." Sam cocked his head towards the bed of the dead witch.

Caleb explained, "Aggy said that Jocelyn was pretty much excommunicated."

"Get out! Get out now!" Joshua said with urgency.

"What's going on?" Caleb pointed to the door.

"Leave. It's a trap!"

"Sam, go," Dean ordered his brother, pushing him.

Caleb kept the phone to his ear, following behind Dean. Dean crossed the threshold, his brother in the hallway waiting for them. He turned, waiting for Caleb.

Both brothers' eyes widened in horror when everything turned to slow motion. Caleb faltered as he crossed the threshold then collapsed, the phone skidding out his hand. They had no warning.

"Caleb!"

To be continued.....