Growing Pains

By: Ridley C. James

Beta: Tidia

Disclaimer: Nothing Supernatural belongs to me. All the lovelies belong to Kripke Enterprise and the CW.

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Chapter 3/5

Once he was sure Sam and Dean were settled, Reaves moved back to where Joshua was redrawing the circle with the wand. He watched him for a moment as he withdrew a large blade, whispering another incantation. The blond ran the steel across his palm, letting his own blood drip over the perimeter.

“Think this thing will hold if that Black comes again?”

Sawyer looked at him, as again a large purple flame raced around them, dying down to glow with a lavender luminescence. “It's strong magic. Demon dogs are dangerous because of their physical manifestation-but they're not smart enough to break barriers like this one.”

“Okay.” Caleb frowned. “I'll take your word for it.”

“I do know about this stuff.” Josh wrapped a piece of his cut-up shirt around his still-bleeding hand and tied it off. He glanced out into the darkness. “This whole hunting thing may be your strong suit, but counter spells and witchcraft are mine. I suppose you can't fight how you were raised.” The blond sheathed the knife at his side, instead of slipping in back into his bag. It was better to be safe than sorry.

“Yeah.” Caleb checked his gun again, sliding the safety off. He felt better having it at the ready, just in case Sawyer wasn't as smart as he thought he was. “Not that I don't trust you…” He glanced up at Joshua when he felt the man's gaze on him. He shrugged apologetically. “Hell…who am I kidding? I don't trust you.”

Sawyer rolled his eyes. “Feeling is mutual.”

Reaves shrugged. “I'll take first watch, then. Get some sleep.”

The blond frowned. “I'm in charge. I'll take first watch.”

The psychic raked a hand through his hair. Did everything have to be a battle? “Do you really want to argue about who's taking what watch?”

“Why not? We argue about everything else.”

“That's because you're an ass.”

Joshua took a step forward, poked a finger in the direction of Reaves's chest. “And you're a stubborn sonofabitch, who thinks you have the inside track on being the next Knight.”

“Is that what this is about?” Caleb shook his head, giving the other man an incredulous look. “You think I'm trying to take the position in the Brotherhood that you and your pals want?”

“Aren't you?”

“I don't give a fuck about being in the Brotherhood.” It wasn't exactly the truth, but at the moment it wasn't exactly a lie either. The only thing Caleb cared about at the moment was getting Dean and Sam back to safety in relatively one piece.

Sawyer dropped his hands to his side. “Keep telling yourself that, Reaves. But I find it awfully funny that you're willing to be John Winchester's lackey. I mean you follow the man around like a puppy.”

Caleb clenched his fists. “I work with Winchester-that's all. He and my father are best friends.”

“And those boys? Where do they fit in?”

Reaves eyes took on a dangerous glint. “Why do you care?”

“Because I find it fascinating that someone of your lineage cares about two kids-unless there is something in it for you. Was your grandfather possessed by the type of demon that maybe fed off of little kids?”

The dark haired hunter felt an uncurling of rage in the pit of his gut. It took all he had not to reach out and snap the smug man's neck. “You don't know anything about me, Sawyer! Or those kids.” Caleb wasn't about to explain the connection he felt to the Winchesters. The fact they were bound by similar fates, by potential horrors had only been hinted at.

“Right.” Joshua grinned that infuriating frat-boy smile that always made Caleb want to shove a fist through his face. The preppy kids at the fancy schools Mac sent him to thought he was an outsider, too. Just like Sawyer did. “All of this is just a job to you.”

“It is.” Reaves lied. The Brotherhood was a whole hell of a lot more to him, but not because of any power position he was seeking. However, he wasn't going to spill his guts to Sawyer. He didn't owe the bastard any explanations and he'd learned a long time ago trusting the wrong person could come back to bite you in the ass.

“And them?” The older hunter glanced over his shoulder to where Dean and Sam were sleeping. “They're just a part of the job, too?”

“Leave them out of it.” Caleb stepped closer to Sawyer. “Because I could still tell Jim that the mean old Black Dog drug your ass off to Grandma's house. Sam and Dean will back me up.”

Sawyer shook his head. “I don't know what to think of you, man.”

“Don't strain yourself trying to figure it out.”

“Fisher and Ian think you're a plant of some kind. A demon hybrid spy. They think it was a mistake to let you into the inner-circle.”

Caleb rolled his eyes at the mention of the other hunters. They were both about Sawyer's age, and had all grown up together in the Brotherhood. “Fisher and Ian can go fuck themselves.” There was no love loss there. Of the three, Joshua had the most redeeming qualities-and that wasn't saying a whole hell of a lot.

Sawyer laughed, raked a hand through his short, spiky locks. “They can be dicks.”

The psychic raised a brow, surprised at the blond hunter's reaction. “I thought you all were tight-the three fucking musketeers or something?”

Joshua shrugged, his ice-blue gaze locking with Reaves's skeptical one. “Looks can be deceiving, I guess. Maybe you don't know as much about me as you think you do.”

“I know you seemed to be on their side when they chose to make their feelings about me working with Winchester known.”

Sawyer frowned, looked away. “I was a kid.”

At least he had the decency to look guilty. Still, Caleb wasn't in a forgiving mood. “And you're wise and weathered, now? It was three years ago.”

Joshua finally looked at him, shrugged. “Never took you as the holding a grudge type. You should look at it as an initiation.”

Reaves glanced back out into the inky blackness, snorted. An initiation that landed him in the hospital. “Whatever, dude.”

“I'm going to get some shut-eye,” Joshua said with a jaw-popping yawn. He met Caleb's cool gaze. “You take first watch.”

“Yeah,” Caleb replied with an amused smirk, before turning back to watch the dark woods.

“And Reaves?”

The psychic turned back around to look at Sawyer, raising a brow.

“What the kid said…I couldn't leave the circle. If I had, the spell would have been broken. My blood was the binding.” He licked his lips. “He's a pain in the ass, but I didn't want the little punk to get hurt either. But I had to think of you and Sam, too. It's important to see the bigger picture sometimes.”

Caleb nodded. “That whole 'the good of the many shit'…”

“Yeah.” Sawyer smiled. “It sucks, I know, but Dad says it's for the best.”

“He thinks it's a Knightly thing to do.”

Joshua glanced away, the subject of his father uncomfortable at best. “I suppose.”

“Well it's not.” Caleb shook his head. That much he knew-had learned from John. “A Knight protects those around him, no matter the cost. He has a mission-a purpose. Let's nothing stand in the way of that.”

“Even if that gets the Knight killed?” Sawyer rolled his eyes. “What if he makes the wrong choice?”

Reaves shrugged. “Sometimes one person is worth the risk.” His gaze went to the boys asleep by the fire. His grip reflexively tightened on the gun, before glancing back to Joshua. “Sometimes there isn't a choice at all. There's just doing what's right.”

“What's right and what you 'want' is not always the same thing.” Joshua sighed when the other boy's gaze remained unyielding. He realized they were about to reach their usual impasse. “There's always a choice, Caleb, even if you refuse to acknowledge it or not.”

Reaves shook his head. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, Sawyer.”

“Don't worry about my sleep, Reaves.” Josh started for the fire, giving the other hunter a dubious look. “Just focus on keeping yourself awake and sharp, and stay in the circle. That's an order.”

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Despite the dire circumstances and the frigid temperature, Joshua had been sleeping relatively well, even on the lumpy, cold ground. So, when the pitiful whimpering pulled him from his dreams of the last date he'd been on, he growled Reaves's name, even before his eyes were fully open.

The campfire had died down considerably, and Sawyer was not surprised that the setting for his subconscious romantic rendezvous with Liz had been a wintry wonderland of ice and snow. He rubbed at his eyes and glanced around the perimeter for the cause of his early exit from the temporary reprieve sleep had offered.

Dean was moving restlessly beneath Caleb's bulky jacket, and Sam had apparently just woken also, as he looked as disheveled and disoriented as Joshua felt. “What's going on, kid?”

The little boy looked Joshua's way, blinking owlishly before answering. "Where's…Caleb?”

“Now that's a good question.” Sawyer pushed himself to his knees, scanned the circle more carefully. The glow of the protection ring gave off a nice nightlight-like aura and it didn't take but one sweep to realize there was no sign of the other man. “Fucking Reaves,” Joshua swore, pushing himself the rest of the way to his feet.

Dean's distress rose in a crescendo, climaxing in a gasping breath that brought him jack-knifing up from the ground. “Sammy!” he shouted.

His brother reacted instantly, reaching out to the older boy. “I'm here, Dean. It's okay.”

The ten-year-old cried out, as the pain from his sudden movement must have hit home. He fell back to the ground, Sam still trying to reassure him. “It's okay, Dean.”

“Hey, take it easy.” Joshua knelt beside the two, not liking the sickly pale gleam of the oldest Winchester's skin. “Just stay still.”

Dean blinked, first looking at Sawyer and then fixing his fever-bright gaze on the five-year-old. “Sammy? You…okay?”

“Yeah.” the little boy put a hand on his brother's head. “Did you have a nightmare?”

Joshua watched as the older boy licked his chapped lips, nodding slightly.

“The dog…” His words trailed off as he seemed to suddenly recall something important, and his eyes flew open again. “Where's Caleb?” Dean searched the area wildly, trying to maneuver himself to sitting position once more.

Sawyer sighed. Was there an echo? “Maybe he had to go this time,” he offered. The frown Sam shot him and the crazed look Dean was giving him, told him he had just failed miserably in the reassurance department.

Joshua shrugged. “Look-give me a break. I was asleep, too.”

Sam rubbed at his eyes, again. “Did the Black Dog get him?” He asked with a shaky voice, and even Sawyer recognized the hint of tears.

He cursed Reaves for leaving him alone with the Winchesters. “No, Sam. I'm sure Caleb is fine.”

“Where is he?” Dean asked again, and the older blond looked at him. His green eyes were glassy. He didn't even have to touch the boy to know he was burning up.

“He'll be back.” He softened his tone, reading the misery in the kid's countenance. After all, he wasn't completely heartless. No matter what Reaves might think.

“Did…did you do something to him?” Dean asked then, accusation mixing oddly with fear and pain.

“What?” Josh shook his head, pulling his jacket around tighter. It was fucking freezing. “No.”

“Liar!” Dean suddenly kicked out at him. Josh grabbed his arms, trying to keep him off of him.

“Where is he? What did you do?” The kid yelled and to Josh's surprise the slippery ten- year- old suddenly had a hold of his knife.

“What the fuck! Dean!” Joshua struggled to keep a grip on the boy, who was brandishing the blade with deadly intent. He almost had him under control when something clamped down on his forearm-Sam's incisors. “Ouch! You brat-you bit me!” Sawyer shook the five-year-old off, and tried to retain his grip on the other boy.

“Don't you touch my brother!” Dean yelled, continuing to fight in his fever-induced delirium.

The only thing the older hunter was thinking about when he grabbed the boy by the shoulders was stopping him before someone ended up getting stabbed. He didn't intend for his fingers to dig painfully into the wound, nor did he expect the reaction it elicited from the kid.

Dean screamed. Sam echoed his own misery with an empathetic howl of his own. Sawyer immediately released him, the kid falling back, holding his injured arm.

“What the hell is going on?” Caleb burst breathlessly from the woods, an armload of wood balanced precariously in one hand, the other brandishing the Glock he'd loaded with more silver rounds. “What's wrong?”

“Caleb,” Sam cried, pointing a finger at Sawyer. “He hurt Dean.”

The blond hunter raised his hands as he found the gun suddenly swung in his direction.

“Take it easy! All of you,” he tried to reason.

“Back off.” Reaves doubted Sawyer had it in him to hurt a child on purpose, but Dean was curled into a protective ball, sobbing, and something in Caleb snapped. “Now!” he growled, and Joshua scooted back on his haunches.

“Come on, Caleb!" Sawyer groaned. “You know me. I was trying to help. He was having a nightmare. I tried to help. The brat pulled my knife on me. He's out of his mind.”

The psychic dropped the bundle of kindling near the dying embers of the fire, his eyes never leaving Joshua. “Deuce?”

“Did I let him get cold?” Sam cried, running his hand through his trembling brother's hair. "My Mercury was no good.”

“It's okay, Sammy.” Caleb finally put his gun away when Dean didn't answer him.

“Joshua's going to build the fire back up so we all get nice and warm.” He glanced to Sawyer and then knelt beside of Dean, laying his fingers against the side of the kid's face.

“Shit,” he hissed, feeling the heat radiating off of the older Winchester. “So much for Black Dogs not being poisonous.”

“Dad?” Dean moaned, weakly.

Caleb gently rolled him over. “No such luck. It's just me.”

The ten-year-old blinked, looking blearily up at Reaves. “Did Joshua kill you?”

Reaves laughed. “Do I look that bad, Deuce?”

When the boy didn't take such a blatant opportunity to insult him, Caleb got really worried. “Hey?” He laid his hand on the kid's forehead. “You still with us?”

“I'm cold,” Dean whispered. “My arm…hurts.”

“Yeah, I know.” Caleb gently pulled back his flannel shirt, and grimaced when he saw the make-shift bandages were soaked through with blood. He bit his lip, glanced up to find Sammy watching him, with wide, un-blinking eyes full of unwarranted trust. It sent a pang of guilt knifing through his heart. “Hey, runt, grab that canteen again for me. Okay?”

The little boy nodded, and scrambled after the water. Reaves carefully lifted Dean up and rested him against his chest, wincing when the boy whimpered from the jostling. “Easy, Deuce. We need to get some water in you.” What they needed was a doctor, and a nice, warm cabin.

Sam held the silver flask out to him and Caleb took it, holding it up for Dean. After only a couple of sips the kid coughed and turned his head away, burying his face in Reaves' shirt. “Come on, Deuce, you need to drink some more.” Dehydration was going to be a real factor soon, along with shock and hypothermia. It was still hours before sunrise.

“No…” Dean mumbled, shaking his head. “I…feel sick.”

“You've got to, Dean.”

Reaves tried to force the canteen on the kid, but he resisted. Caleb felt the boy's hot fingers wrap around his wrist, weakly pushing him away. “Please Caleb…don't make me.”

The psychic sighed, and relented. He rested his chin atop the kid's sweat-soaked hair, closed his eyes. “Great.” So much for being able to handle things on his own. John was so going to kick his ass.

“We need to get him out of here. He needs a doctor.”

The psychic whipped his head up, meeting the ice-blue gaze watching them. Oh, but he was so going to love beating the shit out of Sawyer first. “Thank you, Mister Obvious. But I fucking know that already.” God. He wasn't an idiot.

“He's going to die if we don't do something.”

“Dean's going to die?” Sam asked, practically crawling into Caleb's lap beside his brother. He reached out and latched onto the other boy. Reaves had to reign his temper back in, before he did something to Joshua they would all regret.

“No, Sammy. Josh is just over-reacting.” The psychic used his free arm to grab his jacket that had been tossed aside in all the excitement, and brought it up around the two boys.

“You know what that is. Right?”

Sam looked up at him. “Like what Daddy does when the Sox lose a game?”

Reaves continued to glare at Sawyer as he ran his fingers over Sam's hair in what he hoped was a consoling manner. After all, he sucked at this stuff. “Yeah. You'd think the world was about to end. Huh?”

The little boy nodded against Caleb's shoulder. “Mac says he gets a little cuckoo.” Sam used his finger to make a looping motion at the side of his head.

Reaves laughed. “Mac would know. I bet he'd tell us that old Josh is just being a little cuckoo. That's all.”

“I may be crazy, but you know I'm right about needing to get the hell out of here." The last thing Joshua wanted was to have the death of one of John Winchester's children on his hands.

“I don't know how to manage that at the moment,” Reaves added more calmly, for Sam's benefit, but the steadiness in his voice didn't mask the helplessness he was feeling. “But if you've come up with a sudden stroke of genius, please do share.”

Joshua bent down in front of the fire, tossing another log into the growing flames. “I know you can't control your visions, but aren't you some kind of telepath, too?”

“Sort of," Reaves sighed, knowing what Sawyer was getting at. He'd just started exploring that side of his abilities. “I've worked on it with Mac some, but never at these distances. It won't work.” His father told him his gifts held boundless potential and with work he would some day do amazing things. But for now, parlor tricks and annoying visions he didn't want in the first place was all he was blessed with.

“How do you know if you haven't tried?” Josh jutted his chin to the Winchesters. “I know you and the Hardy Boys had some kind of weird silent communication going on last night when you kicked mine and Jim's ass in UNO.”

Caleb shook his head, remembering how he and Dean had cheated. “Kids are different,” Reaves explained. The Winchesters were different. “They're more open to psychic interaction. Mac says they haven't built up all those defenses that adults have.” Dean shivered again and Caleb pulled him closer, trying to offer whatever body heat he could.

“But John and Boone…that's a different kind of animal all together, man. They're trained hunters.”

Joshua looked at Reaves, and then to the boys. Dean's face was deathly pale against the dark blue of Reaves' shirt, his long lashes standing out starkly against his flushed cheeks. Sam was curled in the crook of Caleb's other shoulder, but his gold-flecked brown eyes were locked on Sawyer, reminding the older man of a sad-looking puppy. “Animals…” Joshua muttered out of the blue, and the psychic frowned at him.

“What?”

“You said John and Boone were a different kind of animal.”

“Yeah, so?”

“So…what about animals?” The blond pointed at his own head. “They're more open to psychic connections, too. Right? I mean don't wolves use telepathy to communicate? With each other…even their prey?”

“I guess,” Caleb replied, cautiously. He wondered if Sawyer knew what he'd done to the Black. “What's that got to do with anything?”

“You could contact Atticus. He's with Jim and the others.”

Reaves brow furrowed and he snorted. “You want me to connect with a Golden Retriever? Are you kidding me? Do I look like the Beastmaster to you, Sawyer?”

“Do you really want me to answer that?”

“You can talk to Atticus?” Sam asked, looking hopefully up at Caleb. “Tell him to bring Daddy here, Caleb. Please.”

“Sammy,” Reaves sighed. “I don't know if I can talk to Atticus. I've never tried.” Sure, he'd connected with the Black Dog, but that hadn't really been a freakin' conversation. He'd just barely touched the monster's thoughts for a distraction. And it hadn't been pleasant.

But the five-year-old continued to stare at him with the patented 'Sammy' face. “You can do it. I know you can. It'll be a piece of pie.” The little boy tossed his own words back at him-sort of. “Just think doggy thoughts.”

Sawyer snorted. “Yeah, Timmy, channel your inner-Lassie.”

Dean clung to him tighter, his hot skin easily permeating through the thin tee Caleb was wearing. The sick kid mumbled something in his sleep and Reaves groaned, not believing what he was about to do. “You better hope this works, Josh.” He glanced at Sam and then back to the blond hunter. “Because if not, your going to get to see how well that tracking device of yours works in the dead of night-Black Dog be-damned.”

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