Disclaimer: Ridley is all about The
Brotherhood and Kripke is all about Supernatural. I do not profit from
Caleb grabbed his book and pen off
the desk. European Art History was his last class before spring break.
He couldn’t wait to put some room between him and Auburn. He was
heading to Pastor Jim's tomorrow to celebrate Easter at the end of the
week. Dean and Sam were also going to be on vacation at the same time.
Mac would fly down to join them since he was busy with patients. The
psychic was looking forward to the visit, and there was also going to
be a hunt involved. Jim had mentioned something killing animals in the
area and it wasn’t a coyote.
He tried to ignore the voice calling
his name, wanting to make it to the Jeep to head to his off campus
apartment. However, Todd ran after him.
He waited impatiently for his fellow
architectural student to catch his breath. Todd was the kind of person
who gave architectural students a bad name. Geeky and a total brown
noser, Caleb had to show self restraint and not punch him.
"You heading to Cancun for spring
Reaves laughed. Cancun and living the
MTV spring break didn't fit into his lifestyle. "No, man, I got some
work to do and visiting family." Caleb placed his books in the
passenger side seat.
"Work, Jesus, you're an Ames-probably
have a job lined up after graduation." Todd whined.
Caleb lost his patience. He
purposefully chose a school that didn't have a building splashed with
the Ames name. His father may have called the way he lived a 'rock star
existence,' but he was discreet. His plans after graduation were his
own, not related to his family at all. He got in the Jeep. "Doesn't
work that way, Todd. See ya." He started the engine and left Todd and
He thought he would be able to kick
back before packing up and heading out. But when he reached his
apartment he noticed the door slightly ajar. He didn’t carry a gun on
him while he was at school. He did have a knife strapped against his
ankle. He slid it from its sheath. There wasn’t much to steal except
the entertainment center and one of his mother's paintings. Caleb
didn't know anyone who could carry a 60 inch projection television, and
he would hunt down anyone who touched the painting. His weapons were
locked up and well hidden.
He opened his mind and tried to sense
if there was someone still inside. He relaxed back, placing the knife
back into place. Rachel was inside.
"Hey there," she said with a big
smile as he walked in, placing his books and keys on the table by the
"Hey," he greeted her in return. "How
did you get in?" He went to the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of
water, taking a swig before placing it back.
"Landlord." She came up behind him,
wrapping her arms around his waist.
He could understand why he let her
in-toothy white smile, long blonde hair, low cut shirt with plenty of
cleavage. "Wanted to see you before you left. I'm gonna miss you." She
leaned into him, pressing herself against him.
Caleb could feel the warmth of her
body. He turned around. "Oh, yeah?"
"Yeah," she said, and her pupils
"Show me, girl." He nipped at her
lower lip and she responded.
In his bed they lay satiated. Rachel
was sleeping with her head in the crook of his arm. He pushed her hair
off her face, deciding to read her feelings. She was thinking of him,
and he grinned. He had expected nothing less especially after what he
had just done. It was the rest of the tumbling thoughts that brought
him out of his languishing mood. She loved him; she wanted to marry him
and couldn't wait for him to meet her parents at graduation.
Caleb shifted, moving her head off
his arm. Like a wolf, it was time to gnaw off his appendage to break
free. Abruptly he stood up, shedding the sheets.
Feeling the movement Rachel opened
her eyes. "Come back to bed." She yawned.
"No, I gotta go, Babe. I'm expected."
He slipped on his jeans, and then picked up her clothes from the floor.
She brought the sheet to her chest as
she sat up, watching him scurry about the room. "I thought you were
"Nope, get dressed." He placed her
clothes on the bed, then handed her underwear.
"These aren't mine." She held the
offending black thong between her thumb and forefinger, studying them
for a moment.
"You sure?" He looked confused, and
pointed to the floor. "They were right there on the floor." He bent
down and picked up a pair of pink bikini underwear.
"You bastard!" She threw the thong at
him. "Caleb Reaves you are a fuckin' bastard!" She snatched her
underwear from his hand.
"Rachel, you don't understand. . ."
He backed out of his own room, giving her some space to get dressed,
which she did under the sheet. He knew it was a low move. He kept the
spare underwear for just these occasions. She huffed passed him,
pushing him out of the doorway. The door slammed shut, and Rachel was
Three months he had dated her, and
not followed his own advice-never date a girl for three months. It led
them on and they expected more.
It was late. He probably should have
walked Rachel to her car. He went to the window and watched her sulk in
the darkness to her car. Once the headlights in her Toyota went on, he
got to packing, might as well get an early start.
The first thing Pastor Jim saw in the
morning was the cross on the bureau in front of his bed. The second was
a photo of his wife, Emma, off to the right.
She had been gone for over twenty
years. They had ten years together, more than the doctors had promised.
Emma had a heart condition, so they never had children. Jim had
cherished his wife. Emma was kind, good woman yet full of
conviction-his perfect match. Jim understood John's devotion to Mary
even in her death, because he was the same. There would be no other
wife for him.
It was time for him to wake up, but
it was the sound of someone in the kitchen below which brought him to
full alertness. He awoke early to tend to the farm and to God. He
opened his nightstand draw which contained his Bible and a .45. He
crept down the stairs, well aware of the ones which creaked and avoided
He lowered his gun when Caleb called
out. "You mind pointing that thing at someone else?"
He relaxed his arm, shaking his head
as he saw the young hunter reading a newspaper at his table. "I wasn't
expecting you until tomorrow."
Caleb shrugged his shoulders and
gestured to the gun. "Is this the kind of welcome you give to your
"Only the unwelcomed ones, my boy."
He placed the gun on the counter, heading over to his coffee maker,
noticing Caleb had already helped himself to a cup. "Is there any
particular reason you came early?"
Reaves was not about to go into the
Rachel situation. He knew the Pastor had a farfetched dream that Caleb
should settle down. But, that would never happen for him-the hunt was
too important and he didn't want to expose anyone he cared about to the
lifestyle. "Yeah. Had to get the hell out of Dodge." It was very early
in the morning, and there was still time for Reaves to go into his old
room and get some well needed rest. "When are John and the boys coming?"
Jim didn't reply to the question,
using the time alone with the young hunter to be more pensive and
thoughtful. "Boys are growing up, becoming men."
"Not yet." Caleb picked up his
backpack. As far as he knew Dean was still pure, Reaves knew he would
be changing that condition sometime soon.
Jim didn’t hear the comment. "I worry
for you. You all had no choice-Sammy, Dean and you all born into this
life." He studied the man before him, his silver ring worn proudly. Jim
felt guilty for what he had set into motion and the possible future
ramifications. He feared for all of them, including their safety in his
"I'd choose it again if I had to do
it all over." Caleb replied with a nod. He felt this job was his
Jim shook his head at the
naiveté of the psychic. For all he had been through, Caleb still
didn’t understand. Jim as the current Guardian watched and prepared
other hunters and the next leadership of The Brotherhood. It survived
in some form or another- sometimes needed more than other times. This
was one of those times. Murphy smiled, noticing the backpack Caleb had
swung on his shoulder.
"Tell me you brought appropriate
clothing for Sunday services." Jim didn’t allow Caleb to respond.
"Because combat boots, black fatigues and a black t-shirt is not
appropriate unless you are planning to lead an infiltration of the
church, and last I checked there were no evil forces in there." He
noticed Caleb's reaction, and pointed a finger at the college student.
"And don't look indignant. Did you not notice no one sat next to you at
"That old guy. . ." Reaves
interrupted, trying to recall the Christmas services.
"Mister Simpson is blind, Caleb, and
your father doesn't count either."
There were few times when the psychic
was at a loss of words. This was one of those times. It had been a
calculated attack by the pastor, and Caleb had been bested. "Okay," he
"Thank you," Jim said with a smile
and took another sip from his mug. "Why don't you get some rest? The
boys aren't expected until tomorrow."
Reaves knew he was being dismissed.
Caleb always wondered about Jim and what power he had as The Guardian.
Evidently, one was putting young hunters in their place.
Onto Chapter 2
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