"Offerings & Takings" by: Tidia

Beta: That Girl Six

Joshua held the vial in the palm of his hand. It wasn't black magic. At least the coven stayed on the alchemy side of crafting, but it had taken him down the wrong path all the same. He slipped it into his messenger bag, unwilling to contemplate it further as the knot in his stomach grew.

His mother was speaking to Dean, understanding his pensive mood. She had fallen for his devil may care charm. Joshua concluded it was that trait that had attracted her to Harland Sawyer before he turned into a womanizer. Joshua tried to tune into the conversation happening in the front seat as a distraction. He didn't want to think of his father — the man he would never please but somehow would always try to — or the coven. His life was always about dichotomy.

Dean was talking about the farm. "I would sit on the steps and listen as they talked. I don't remember much about what they said— I just remember that Dad usually started in on Mac, but they'd end up ganging up on Pastor Jim. There would be a lot of laughing."

Whatever people had thought of the individual members of the former Triad, they had had camaraderie. The next Triad was the same, even Griffin, Harland and Silas, along with Gideon, Ethan and Elijah. Joshua was always the outsider. "I'm surprised Caleb never caught you."

"He did a few times." Dean smiled fondly. "Wound up sitting next to me."

Joshua had been a witness to many happy moments between Dean and Caleb. It was those thoughts that were more than likely helping the younger hunter tone down his anxiousness. "Of course—partners in crime," Joshua retorted. "But that's more like you and your brother."

"Snide comment. Sorry, Esme."

"Hard habit to break." It showed his jealousy. Joshua waited for his mother's reprimand. It never came, making him feel transparent. His mother pitied him. Joshua cleared his throat. "Are we almost there?"

Almost there was another thirty minutes of stilted conversation. Dean led the way when they reached the motel. Joshua gave a curt nod to Mackland; his mother went to the doctor with one arm outstretched. She squeezed Mackland's hand when she reached him. It was an incredibly personal gesture that spoke of their relationship. Joshua felt uncomfortable.

"What happened?" Sam greeted his brother.

"We'll talk about it later. First things first, we need to fix Caleb." Dean pointed at Joshua then to Caleb.

Joshua went to check the binding he had placed on Caleb. He examined the hand, then placed a hand on Reaves's chest.

"Respiration is normal; pulse is slow but steady," Mackland stated, Esme still by his side even while his sole focus was on his son.

"That's good," Joshua said with a nod. He removed the messenger bag, taking the red vial out. "I think it would be better if you would wait in another room." He didn't want any of them to see him desecrate the body, especially his mother.

"Hell no," Dean answered.

"I'd rather stay and monitor Caleb," Mackland added. "By staying, will we have an effect on what you are about to do?"

Joshua couldn't lie. "No, not really." He looked at his mother and swallowed. "I'd prefer it if you could go, Mother."

"I plan to help you." She took up position by Caleb's bed to show she was determined.

Joshua sighed, concentrated on the work at hand, realizing he had lost the battle. "I need a glass filled with water."

Sam volunteered to be the assistant, going into the bathroom and returning with the water. Joshua tapped out part of the powder into the water, watching as it dissolved. With a grimace, he forced opened Agatha's mouth, pouring the substance in while he massaged her throat, mimicking a swallowing reflex.

"That's it?" Sam asked.

"I need to wait," he answered. It was strange to do crafting with such an intense audience, especially when he tried so hard to keep those talents separate from them.

"How long?" Thankfully, Mackland was supporting him, unlike the usual suspicion his crafting brought about from the physician. "An extended release tablet can take up to seven hours to work fully."

"This will be only about ten minutes," Joshua explained, noticing they were all near Caleb who remained slack and unaware so many people cared about him. Even his relationship with Reaves had improved over time. There was the occasional phone call, discussion of Brotherhood business which didn't involve a snarky tone. However, there were still created boundaries they did not cross.

He glanced at his watch, seeing the minutes tick.

"What comes next?" Sam broke through the silence, helping to pass the time a little faster.

"The idea is that she is going to give back what she took from Caleb. This is the conduit that makes that happen, undoes the spell." Joshua waited for further questions but none were forthcoming. He found the knife he needed, a copper blade. It needed to be a pure metal; tools of crafting were just as important as the ingredients. Materials from the elemental table were the best to work with, again showing there was more of a scientific connection than a magical one. He had excelled in chemistry, too.

He picked up Agatha's slack arm. Her arm felt warm even though she had been dead for hours and her body only moments before had been cold. It had been the potion. He wished he could study it, but it would all be used. He dragged the blade across her forearm. Blood dripped out; he caught it in the vial, watching as the powder mixed with the blood. Once filled, he placed the stopper on it, shaking it to ensure it was well-blended.

"Are you ready?" He passed his mother the mixture.

Esme nodded. She took off Caleb's socks, anointing his feet in calligraphy, using the mixture to do so. "These runes are like the ones on the wall." His mother was always a teacher, taking an opportunity to explain the craft so it was accepted rather than distrusted. She shifted Caleb's hands so they were facing up, again marking them. She repeated the action on his throat, under his nose and on his forehead, leaving him tattooed with symbols.

Without being asked, Sam handed her a towel. Joshua shook his head at the reaction Esme got from the Winchesters. They wanted to please her.

Joshua took out his ceremonial bowl made of a shining nickel. He placed blessed thistle, asafoetida, chewing john, and echinacea inside, which once together lit up to a blue colored flame. He rested the copper blade on top.

Going into his bag once more as an afterthought, he found the sage, then crumpled the fragrant leaves over Agatha's body.

"I don't think that will help," Esme said, placing her hand on his arm.

"It'll make me feel better." Sage was used to cast off negativity. Joshua was agnostic—believing there was something out there, but not so organized. Yet some sage could help her to cross over to a better place instead of the hell that she had been wished into by the people in the motel room. He knew what it was like to be vilified for one act, and as far as he knew, Agatha had steadily led her coven for decades.

"This is about making Caleb feel better," Dean growled.

Joshua looked over his shoulder to see Mac placing a hand on Dean's arm, reining in the Guardian-elect. Regaining his concentration, Joshua pulled up Agatha's long sleeve, covering her arm. Not finding what he was searching for, he unbuttoned her shirt, feeling nauseated that he was violating an elderly woman in some way. Above her breast he found the mark, the same one he'd had burned into him a few hours before.

The blade was white hot, the hilt cool. He placed the flat side of the blade on the mark, smelled the burning flesh and heard the disgusting sizzle. He was glad his back was toward the other occupants in the room. True, this was righting a wrong, but it was violent. It was punishment. It was a reminder for Joshua and Esme, leaving no doubt of what would happen to them if they should become traitors.

Agatha's body started to crack, gaping gray holes absorbing her skin until she was nothing but dust in the form of a body on the bedspread. "They cursed her," Joshua said to no one as Caleb took in a deep gulp of air and sat up in bed.

"Help!" Caleb shouted as he scampered slightly away from those gathered around the bed.

Mac placed a restraining hand on his son. "It's okay, Caleb. It's okay. You're fine."

It seemed to soothe the other hunter; he was losing the wild-eyed look.

"Take in a few breaths, Damien."

Joshua watched as he cleaned up, wiping his blade before putting out the fire in the ceremonial bowl. He spread the ashes over the remnants of Agatha Hennings. He opened his bag, taking out the leather pouch that held his blades, placing the copper in its place. He cleaned the bowl with a cloth before it went back into his bag.

Caleb had yet to say anything, working on Dean's suggestion of breathing in a slow, shallow manner. Finally, he cleared his throat. "Who's going to fill me in?"

There was immediate chuckling of relief. Joshua remained in the background. His mother had retreated into the bathroom but returned to hand a towel to Caleb. She gestured to the markings. "I think you should clean up a bit."

"Esme, what are you doing here?" He accepted the towel, but seemed unsure of what to do with it. "Ahh, not that it's a bad thing or anything, just unexpected."

"He thinks he's so Rico Suave." Dean elbowed his brother. "Well, Sleeping Beauty. . . "

"She had to kiss me?" Caleb looked at his father, who still had an arm on his son. "You know, this writing is kinda kinky." Caleb put his hand up to look at the markings. "Esme, is there something you want to tell my father?"

"Caleb—" Mackland warned as Esme shook her head with a smile.

Reaves ignored his father but acknowledged Joshua. "And Josh should know, too."

Caleb's sarcastic humor had returned, boding a speedy recovery. Joshua tried not to get insulted by the familiar way they were speaking to his mother. Esme was a lady, not one of their one night stands. His mother didn't seem upset, so he would allow her reaction to guide him, figuring out it was more to fluster Mac and himself than to offend his mother. Joshua rolled his eyes as he finished rolling the sheet of the ashes into a makeshift urn. "She needs to be buried under a pine tree." Pine trees were known for their peaceful properties.

"Going out in the trash would be more fitting," Dean grumbled.

"Aggy?" Caleb had scooted back towards the headboard. Propped up, he looked over to the other bed.

"Yep," Dean answered.

"So how did this all happen? I remember walking to the door, waking up and talking to you guys a bit, but some details?" Caleb asked as he wiped the symbols off his feet.

Joshua wavered in his silence. He was on unsure footing with these men. It was better to see what Dean answered so that he could add on his explanation only if necessary.

"You need to thank Joshua and Esme. They were able to get the antidote from the coven," Mackland explained, smiling at Joshua's mother.

"A little more complicated than that—Josh and Esme had to join their club," Dean interjected, giving a curt nod to Joshua.

Joshua watched the reactions of the group. Mackland stepped closer to Esme, his eyes closing briefly with a heavy intake of breath. Sam's face crumpled in an uncomfortable wince of sympathy.

Caleb was the first to speak. "I'm sorry. I know you never were supposed to swear allegiance to a coven. None of us wanted to put you in that position."

"It was a worthy cause," Esme said with a small smile.

Joshua was impressed Caleb remembered Joshua telling him about why they were not connected to a coven. Feeling uncomfortable, Joshua tried to divert attention. "Try not to let it happen again."

"What does it mean for you to swear an oath to them?" Sam asked, treating it at as a learning experience.

Joshua recalled how, even as a child, Sam wanted an explanation for everything. He supposed it was an important trait of The Scholar. "Like the National Guard, two weeks a year, one weekend a month," Joshua quipped. He didn't want to think about what was going to be asked in the near future.

"Joshua," Esme scolded him.

Joshua sighed. "What do you wish me to tell them?" There was a lot he could surmise, leading to him possibly being a threat to The Brotherhood, which, after the sins of his father against the order, was the last thing he wanted.

"If you ignore them, then what?" Caleb had wiped all the marks and tossed the towel at the end of the bed.

Joshua looked at his mother. It could never come to that; they wouldn't suffer the same fate as Agatha. Joshua understood the coven's message. He would always protect his mother.

"Esme?" Mackland prompted.

"We're cursed." She picked up the towel at the end of the bed, folding it neatly.

"Oh," Mackland replied, an irate stare falling to Agatha's remains.

"It's not all bad." She adjusted the corners of the towel.

"This must be where Josh got his PR skills," Caleb stated from the bed.

Esme walked into the bathroom but continued explaining, "The coven can be a strong ally. Perhaps we can negotiate a truce with The Brotherhood." She returned, coming to stand next to Joshua. "We will stand against Griffin Porter."

"Mother, don't be naïve."

"Do not speak to your mother that way," Mackland demanded.

Joshua wiped down his mouth, temper flaring at the man who defended his mother as if her son was a threat, or worse, not up for the job. "Mackland, you have no idea. None of you do. Mother, I'm sorry." Joshua shook his head. "We are talking about two loyalties: one to The Brotherhood and another to our coven."

"'Our' coven?" Dean crossed his arms.

Joshua ignored him, ignoring the mistake he had made. "While my mother doesn't wear a ring, her connections to The Brotherhood run deep. Do you know the position that she has been placed in? It'll be a very thin line."

The men stared at Esme. She placed her hands on her hips. "I can take care myself."

"What about you, Joshua?"

Joshua wondered if it was Mackland being concerned about another person or Mackland as The Scholar being concerned about a breach in security. "Me?" Joshua snorted. "I had the benefit of learning not only from my mother and grandmother but also Buzz, Missouri, and what I learned from Jim's library. They'll want a piece of that to start."

"To start?" Sam rubbed the back of his neck and shared a look with Mackland. The Scholar-to-be and the current Scholar having the same question.

"They stand together—knowledge of one, knowledge of all." He entwined his hands. Then another thought came to him. "Grandmother is not going to be happy."

Esme was looking up at her son. He was significantly taller than her, inheriting his height from his father. She squeezed his arm. "I'll speak to her. She'll understand."

He placed his hand on top then let it drop. "Then of course the fact that I am Advisor to the Triad."

"You don't have a counterpart," Mackland stated, and Joshua didn't know if he should be insulted. He took pride that no one could replace him, no matter which Triad was put into power, he was still the Advisor, Mackland had told him after the deaths of Jim and John.

"Well that was an oversight," Dean quipped with a roll of his eyes, then shrugged his shoulders to soften the barb.

Joshua appreciated it. It was late or early; and he should have paid for a room, but he needed distance from this life. He was feeling like he needed to be on his own. He glanced at Sam Winchester, who had tried to escape the hunting life; he could have told him it was not possible. "Well, I walked out on a meeting and I need to get back." He hitched his bag on his shoulder. He directed his attention at Caleb. "You should feel better in a matter of hours." He then turned to his mother. "I trust you will find your way back?"

"Yes, but I'll walk you to your car." She had left her hand on his arm. She tucked it the crook of his elbow. "I'd like to talk to you."

He opened the door for his mother, allowing her to exit first. He turned around to say his goodbyes to the other men. "Don't forget to take those marks off the wall." A member of The Brotherhood would come and clean up. They were nothing if not efficient.

"Josh, thanks." Caleb pointed at him.

Joshua lifted his hand. "Just don't be calling me for a while." He backed away, then regained some of his composure. "Just to let you know: Drew will expect, at minimum, a lunch at a very public place and for you to be dressed in a suit." He shut the door with smile.