Chapter 7

Man does not weave this web of life. He is merely a strand of it. Whatever he does to the web, he does to himself.-Chief Seattle

It wasn't Max's muffled cry of pain that shocked James, but the incredible surge of power that rushed through him as Echnon's blade pierced flesh, burying to the hilt in Max's gut. The older boy folded over, dropping to his knees. James followed him down, momentarily reeling from the backlash of the weapon.

Nothing he had read described what it felt like to wield Echnon's Blade. Duran had his psychic witch of a girlfriend do his dirty work. James was beginning to understand why. As far as he knew, no hunter had tried, or if they had, they had not lived to tell about it either.

"Max!"

JT's shout jolted James, giving him the clarity to focus on what was going on around him and not the incredible zing of electricity still rippling along his nerves, firing along his synapses. "Shit."

"Sonofabitch." Max ground out. His hands braced against his knees.

"You need to breathe, Max." James could feel the sensation of his friend's pain bleeding through their connection. He almost let go of the knife, afraid he was causing his friend more suffering. He let out his own sigh when Max took one short breath then another.

"Is it working?" Hank was hovering above him.

James vowed to make it his mission to destroy not only Hughes's journal but Echnon's Blade. "Yes." Lying as a natural talent wasn't something he took for granted. It was a skill that would pay off not only as a hunter but in the business world. Max lifted his head just enough so their eyes met. James winked.

"How do I know you're telling the truth?" Gentry demanded.

"You read Hughes's research, Gentry. The knife opens the portal, but also activates the switching of the souls. I'm just the bridge, the conduit. " It was that factor that worried James the most. Once the blade was used, he wasn't sure he could control what happened next. In his father's case, Caleb's blood had blocked Hughes's witch from the transfer. He hoped the same would hold true for Max.

"What happens to the other soul?"

"I release it." James moved his free hand to cover one of Max's clenched fists. He could feel the minute shivers as Max fought to stay calm, to control the pain. James glanced at his hand holding the knife. Max's blue shirt was spotted with blood, but nothing like it should have been. So far, the healing properties were proving to be true. "It has a choice to crossover or stay on this plane. Trust me when I say the first is the better decision."

"Hank, just let him get on with it." Helen's voice trembled from behind them. "Stop all the suffering."

James let go of Max, bringing both his hands to the hilt of Echnon's Blade. He closed his eyes, feeling the faint hum of electricity. There was a tug, a pressure in his skull, like when another psychic was in the area. James hadn't considered that the knife was a type of entity, but at the moment it seemed alive.

"Something's happening."

It was strange to hear another voice that wasn't his own in his head. Cy sounded panicked.

"I can feel it."

"Take it easy. I've got it under control." James tried to remain hopeful until Max jerked, his breath hitching.

"Jimmy…" Max's voice broke. "Something's wrong."

The opening was like a gate. James could see in his mind a dark gaping hole, threatening to suck everything in like a collapsed star. "No, no, no," he muttered, grappling to keep hold of Cy's essence in his mind. His shields crumbled before the magic of Echnon's Blade like wet paper.

"What?" Gentry demanded. "What's wrong?"

"James?" JT's voice joined the rogue hunter.

"Oh God." James felt his grip on Cy fail; the other teen was being pulled away. James had made the wrong choice. Either Max hadn't been marked by Caleb's transfusion, or Caleb hadn't been the one to save James's father all those years ago. It was possible that Dean Winchester had been spared because he was ordained to be the next Guardian. He had been marked by someone more powerful than a demon. His Passover was Merlin's blood. The truth hit him like a boulder. James should have chosen JT.

"Max!" He opened his eyes, set to pull the blade from his friend.

Gentry stopped him. "Do it, and I will end your brother, Guardian or not."

"Don't," Max's hands came to cover his.

James glanced at his brother. JT gave a slight shake of his head. It was all the encouragement he needed. He was sick of the self sacrifice. There was nothing noble about losing someone. He would not willingly hand over one of their own when they had a chance to go out fighting. He jerked the blade free from Max, felt Cy disconnect from his mind. James turned, swinging the weapon to cover Gentry.

He wasn't fast enough. Gentry brought his leg up, kicking the blade out of James's hands. It bounced across the carpet. "You just had to play the hero." Gentry aimed the gun at his head.

James jerked at the sound of the shot. Hank's gun still had the silencer, so he quickly sought out Helen and JT. His brother had restrained the woman, although the fight had left her. She was limp in JT's arms, weeping.

It was only when Hank fell to his knees that James saw the small bullet wound in the man's head, witnessed the surprised look that registered in his eyes before he fell face first on the carpet. James's gut twisted. It was nothing like an action movie. He felt no satisfaction. "Shit."

"James."

"Dad." James swung his gaze to the far side of the room. His father, Caleb, and Castiel were there. "How…"

The door to the room burst open, Rodney came in running. Castiel raised his hand and the other man fell limp.

"You alright?" His father moved across the room to James's side. Caleb stopped to help Max.

James opened his mouth, but his father's hand on his head stopped him from saying anything. Words failed to make their way around the hard lump in his throat. The Guardian's concerned faced blurred as James quickly tried to blink away the hot tears quickly filling his eyes.

"Dad, Ben's in bad shape," JT said, handing Helen to Caleb to restrain.

"Cas?" Dean asked and the angel disappeared as mysteriously as he had arrived. The Guardian cut his gaze to his Knight. "Damien?"

"Go, Deuce. I got it covered."

JT led the way to the other room as Max waved him on. He was standing on his own now, without aid from Caleb. James let his father help him to standing, then forced his legs to move so he could stay by his father's side. He needed his dad's presence, the security that came with knowing now that his father had arrived, everything would be fine-including Ben. They made it to the room in time to see the glow emitting from Castiel's hands over Ben's unconscious form.

James's father moved to the bed, crowding in beside Castiel.

"Ben?" He whispered then repeated himself at a higher volume. James shifted beside JT, the fear and uncertainty in their Dad's voice causing him to inch a step closer, so his shoulder brushed against his brother's.

They all let out a collective sigh when Ben stirred. It was as if he was waking up from a rough night with his hair sticking up, and looking rumpled, but he was alive. "Dad?"

"What the hell, Ace?" James watched his Dad's face change, a smile chasing away worry and dark countenance as he put a hand on Ben's head, taking a seat on the bed by his oldest son. "I send you out here for a medical opinion and this is what happens."

"No more house calls." Ben shifted to his elbows, patting his stomach which was now completely healed. "Not unless Castiel comes with me."

Dean glanced at the angel. "Thanks, Cas."

James wanted to echo the thank you or finally talk to the angel that was popping in and out of their lives. There were questions James needed answered, and Cy to consider. Maybe Cas could restore the teen. He lost his opportunity as Castiel gave a quick nod to their father and disappeared.

He didn't have long to mourn the lost opportunity as his father turned, his gaze roving over JT to fall squarely on James. "Does one of you want to tell me what the hell is going on?"

James had returned to Cy's bedroom after the short, but arduous debriefing with his father. He was the one to cover Gentry's body with a blanket from Cy's bed, doing the same for the teen's corpse before taking a seat on the mattress to wait, for what he wasn't certain.

After making sure all his boys were in one piece, James's father had quickly reverted to The Guardian, giving orders and trying to piece together a plan of action. James could hear the noises in the rest of the house, which had become a hub of activity with the arrival of Joshua and Sam. There was a dead sheriff to deal with, his distraught widow and traumatized brother in law. James didn't want to know how The Triad proposed to cover it all, to keep The Brotherhood safe and beyond reproach. Ben had sedated Helen. JT and Max had been sent to deal with the convict in Gentry's trunk. That left James to his own devices. The irony that he chose to seclude himself with the dead was not lost on James.

"Shouldn't you be with your family?"

James was expecting Cy's spirit, hoping for it. Maybe even Gentry's. Tessa was a complete surprise.

"What are you doing here?"

She took a seat on the bed beside James, resting her hand on Cy's corpse. "I came to help."

James was confused. "How did you even know I was here?"

"I didn't come for you, James. I came for Cy." She glanced to the sheet in the center of the room. "And for Hank."

"Shit." James rubbed his eyes. His day was going from bad to worse. "You're not some lingering spirit, are you?"

"No." She moved her hand to his arm. "I'm something much more."

"Why didn't you tell me?" James pulled away, standing. She'd been showing up for years, usually after he'd had a run in with some difficult spirit. He'd never put the two together, never cared to think much on it. It was nice to have someone to talk to, someone who seemed to understand exactly what he was going through. It didn't hurt that she was beautiful.

"You weren't ready to know. Not until now." Tessa returned her hand to Cy's corpse. "You did well."

"You think this was me passing some kind of test?" James was incredulous. He threw his hands up. "I should have had you for Honors English."

Tessa frowned. "You gave Cyril what he needed to move on. This is your graduation day, James."

"I didn't help Cy," James snapped. He didn't know if she had chosen her words to make a point, but they had struck a chord no matter. James might be turning the tassel on his mortar board tomorrow, but Cy would never walk across his high school's stage. "In case you've missed it, he's still dead. So is his father."

"It was their time. You couldn't change that. Cy is where he is supposed to be. He's with his father." Tessa made her way to his side. "You did your job. Cy understood that. He told me to tell you he was grateful-that he would never forget you."

"My job?" James shook his head. He was pretty sure he would never forget Cyril Gentry either. This whole mess would forever be etched in his memory. "What the hell is my job?"

"To give voice to the dead, to hear them out, to give them what they need so they can move on." She touched him again, her hand finding his and squeezing. For the first time, James realized she was warm, not frigid cold like the spirits he encountered. "Your job makes mine much easier. We'll make a good team."

"You're a reaper." James hated the way his voice broke, that he sounded too much like the scared kid he felt like in that moment. The implications were staggering and Tessa's sympathetic smile didn't aid his unease.

"I am."

"Since when are reapers hot chicks?" He scrambled to recover ground, pulling his hand from her soft grip. "What happened to the old wrinkled guy with the scythe? I would have been much more wary of him."

"You are your father's son." Tessa tilted her head, a smile curling her upper lip. "This form seemed to be one he favored. You should ask Dean about me sometime. We have quite the history."

James brought his hands to his hips. That wasn't going to be happening because he and his dad talked about countless things, but never his abilities and rarely Dean Winchester's checkered past. "Does this mean I work for Death?"

"Would that be so terrible?"

James didn't need to think about it. Freaky psychic was bad enough. "Yes."

"We don't have to talk about the specifics now," Tessa shrugged off his adamant reply. "Why don't you focus on the fact that you have a bright and promising future?"

"As an emissary of doom?" James shook his head, taking a step back. "No thanks, lady."

Tessa wasn't dissuaded. "As The Scholar of The Brotherhood."

"I don't even have a ring. After this, I may never get one." James was certain if his father realized Death was courting his services a position in The Brotherhood would be out of the question.

"I wouldn't be so sure about that." Tessa glanced to the door.

James followed her line of sight and when he looked back she was gone. He glared at the ceiling, raising a fist in frustration. "Apparently angels and reapers have manners in common."

"Jimmy?"

"Sam." His uncle had opened the door, was leaning against the entranceway.

"Who were you talking to?"

"Annoying spirit." James waved about the hand he still held in the air. "A medium's job is never done."

"Hanging out with corpses probably doesn't help with that." Sam closed the door, making a wide berth around Gentry's body to cross to James. "What are you doing in here? Your dad was looking for you."

James gestured to Cy's corpse. "I was hoping to talk to Cy, to tell him I was sorry." Saying it out loud sounded ridiculous. Nothing James could say was going to make things right. "But I guess he's moved on."

"That's for the best. Right?" Sam was staring at him, concern registering in his dark eyes. "You encourage it."

"Yeah." James nodded. He would still liked to have had the chance to say goodbye. "That's definitely for the best."

"Your Dad's going to get help for Helen. I think Rodney understands his sister needs him now more than ever. He seems to be willing to step up to the plate and get past what transpired here today."

"Cy would have wanted that." James swallowed hard, hoping the hot tears he felt in his eyes would stay where they were. He cleared his throat. "I guess we should take care of the bodies."

"The Geek Squad has a clean-up crew coming. Your Dad wants you and Ben to head back to the farm. Juliet will not be completely satisfied until she sees you for herself."

James rubbed his eyes. He hadn't even thought about how freaked his own mom must be. "I hope her relief will cut me some slack. I didn't get a chance to do any of the chores on her list."

Sam grinned. "There always seems to be more time for us to do what we need to do than there is."

"Folly of youth?" James shrugged. It was beginning to seep in that he'd made that mistake over the last four years.

"Folly of humanity." Sam reached out and squeezed his shoulder. "The truth is, time gets away from us all. It seems only like yesterday when you were born and now you're getting ready to graduate."

James laughed. He'd heard the story of his birth more than once, although Caleb's rendition was always the funniest. "I had everyone scrambling back then, too."

"Especially me." Sam nodded. "There was no way I wanted to face your mom in the delivery room without having found your dad. Pregnant women are scary without adding in labor."

"Uncle Caleb said you were afraid you were going to have to go in as her birthing coach."

"Let's just say I was racing against time to find your Dad and Caleb. I was scared to death, afraid I wouldn't find them in time." He cleared his throat. "A lot like today."

"I'm sorry, Uncle Sam." James held The Scholar's gaze. "I didn't mean to scare anyone."

"This wasn't your fault, Buddy."

"Right." James snorted. "For once trouble found me when I wasn't actually looking for it."

"You do seem to have more than your fair share of run-ins." Sam raised a brow. "But then again you do come by some of that naturally."

"I've made a mess of things." James felt a tear fall, his well-placed façade crumbling. "I'm so screwed up."

"That's not true." Sam brought his hand to the back of his neck, his tone growing serious. "You're just finding your way. Not everyone's path is always on the straight and narrow. Take it from someone who knows."

"I never asked for this, Uncle Sam." James breath hitched. He's chest tightening. "I don't' want to be psychic. I hate it."

"I used to feel way. I wanted my abilities gone. I wanted so badly to be normal."

James knew his uncle rebelled against his gift, had fought a long battle to refuse what he was. "Does it ever get easier?"

"On days when I do something good with them, when I save someone, then it's not so bad." Sam looked down at his hand, twisting the silver band on his finger. "Then there's the part about Merlin, and the legend that psychic ability was his gift to The Scholar."

"What if I'm not sure I want to be The Scholar?" James understood that each position of The Brotherhood came with personal sacrifice, but it seemed unfair to him that the one path he seemed destined to follow was the one with so little control.

"Then I'd say that is a definite sign you inherited my intelligence James Winchester."

James rolled his eyes. "Dad does say I take after you."

"Let's hope not." Sam reached in his pocket and pulled out another silver band. He held the ring out to James. "It took me ten years to put mine on. I think your dad might want an answer before then."

"You're giving me my ring?" James felt sick. It was not the scene he imagined-in the middle of Ohio, surrounded by chaos and death, so soon off the Tessa's revelation. It was a whirlwind, which maybe was more fitting than he wanted to admit. "Now?"

"A hunter gets his ring when he uses what gifts he has in a selfless way to serve The Brotherhood and protect his own. According to what JT, Max and Ben said, you did all those things, Jimmy."

James looked at the ring, and then up at his Uncle. "It's James. I would think you of all people would understand that."

"Are you going to take it or not, James?"

"The guys don't know the whole story." James licked his lips. "I didn't make the right choice with Echnon's Blade. I mean, I chose for the wrong reason. It wasn't a Scholarly decision-it was a selfish one."

"Your theory was sound." Sam's brow wrinkled. "I would have hypothesized the same thing about Caleb's blood and the blade. It worked for Dean; it should have worked for Max."

James couldn't lie, not to his uncle, not to himself, not in a moment like this. "I chose Max because I couldn't risk my brother. I knew I couldn't sacrifice JT."

"That would also be a sign of your genetics rearing their ugly head." Sam sighed. "The Winchester curse."

"It's not good though, right?"

"It's kind of like your abilities-inevitable. It's not really good or bad, you just have to learn how to control it, and try to do the right thing whenever you can while causing the least collateral damage."

"Max would have been the collateral damage." James had avoided Joshua for that very reason. Max might have been fine, but James would not forget the feel of his soul as it threatened to slip into that dark void.

"But he wasn't," Sam said.

"Not this time." James wasn't sure he could embrace the 'ends justifies the means' concept.

"I think Max understands the risks of working with you and JT. Caleb's a good teacher. Trust me when I say he has a lot experience in this area."

James had witnessed some of the arguments between his uncles, enough to sense that mule-headedness and personality conflicts were not the only issues between Knight and Scholar. "This whole Triad thing isn't going to be easy, is it?"

"Good things rarely are."

"What if I can't cut it?" James wasn't one to admit his weaknesses. If he wanted something to happen, it usually did. His future position in The Brotherhood was the one area where his well-controlled insecurities dared to rear their ugly head. "I'm not exactly like JT or Max?"

"I think you're more than you see, James."

James thought of Cy, the words he said to his father, trying desperately to get through to the man. He glanced at the teen's corpse, and decided a leap of faith was called for. James took the ring from his uncle. A wave of anxiety crashed over him as the silver sent a pulse of energy through his palm. He closed his fingers around it. "I'm going to hold onto it for a while."

Sam smiled, surprising James by reaching out and pulling him in for a hard hug. "I think I better than anyone can understand that."

James held onto his uncle, finding solace in the solid embrace. He closed his eyes, hoping his father was as accepting of his decision.