On The Wings of a Phoenix

By: Ridley C. James

Beta: Tidia

Disclaimer: Nothing Supernatural belongs to me. All those lovely men are property of Kripke Enterprise and The CW.

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Chapter 4/11

In everyone's life, at some time, our inner fire goes out.
It is then burst into flame by an encounter with another human being.
We should all be thankful for those people who rekindle the inner spirit. -Albert Schweitzer

Joshua glanced into the backseat as he pulled into the long winding drive of the farm. “How’s he doing?”

“He’s asleep,” Caleb replied softly, pulling Dean closer. He’d wrapped the boy in his own jacket, hoping to fight the onset of shock. “Or unconscious.” The psychic hoped it was the former.

“Now for the really important question.” Sawyer sighed. “What are we going to tell Winchester?”

“About?”

Joshua frowned into the mirror. “About the attack? About the unscheduled, hostile visit with his youngest son?”

Reaves let his head fall back against the seat as the car came to a stop. He heard Atticus barking. “Just let me do all the talking.”

“Gladly.” Joshua killed the engine and got out. He went around to the back and opened the door. “After all, such news should come from a brother, not from the red-headed step cousin.”

Caleb slid out, keeping a firm grasp of the kid in his arms. “I got him.”

Joshua rolled his eyes. “Suit yourself, but don’t expect me to explain this situation if you should collapse.”

“Your concern is touching, man.”

“My God.” Mackland stood up first as they entered the kitchen through the back door. He moved towards Caleb, who was holding an unconscious Dean, and also looked on the verge of collapsing.

“What the hell…” Bobby was on his feet too, moving towards the trio. He shifted his gaze between Reaves and Sawyer. “What did you two do?”

The familiar voice along with Mac’s touch had Dean stirring against Caleb’s chest and he shot his father a pleading look when the kid whimpered. “Dad, he’s hurt.”

“Joshua,” Mac said and the other hunter quickly stepped forward to take the twelve-year-old from Reaves.

Caleb reluctantly let him go, allowing his father to help him to a chair. Dean was awake and blinking owlishly as Joshua gently placed him on the seat next to Reaves. “Boys?” Singer asked again, and Ames glanced at him with a shake of his head.

“Go get John, Bobby.”

“What happened?” Mackland was kneeling in front of Dean, carefully running a well-practiced touch over the boy’s hair and then down to his neck. “Who did this?”

“The thing John and I have been hunting.”

Mac’s gaze swung to his son. “What?”

Caleb nodded. “I had a vision…We almost didn’t reach him in time.”

Ames sighed, but went back to his quick examination. “Dean? Where does it hurt?”

“Check his right knee,” Caleb replied before Dean could. “And his wrist is hurt.”

Mackland glanced at his son. “I’m asking him for a reason, Caleb.”

“Sorry.” Reaves met the twelve-year-old’s gaze and was relieved when the boy rolled his eyes at him.

“Maybe…you should give him a tranquilizer, Mac,” Dean sounded more like himself than he had in days, despite the scratchy voice.

Ames smiled, reassuringly. “And let him sleep through your father’s tirade? I think not.”

As if on cue a pounding of feet heralded John Winchester’s gale force entrance into the kitchen. “Dean!” He bellowed, shattering the short reprieve. Jim Murphy trailed closely behind him, a concerned look etched on his weathered face.

The twelve-year-old jumped and his eyes went to Caleb’s before his father was upon him. “Where the hell have you been? Jim was worried out of his mind.” Jim wasn't the only one.

“John,” Mackland interrupted. “He’s injured.”

John seemed to take in the state of his eldest and his face softened. "Is he okay?"

Dean nodded.

Winchester's accusing gaze suddenly went to Caleb. “What the fuck happened? We tried to reach you and Sawyer both.”

“It’s a long story, Johnny.”

Winchester continued to glare at him. “Then you should get started on it.”

Caleb sighed. “He was attacked by that thing. The one we’ve been after.”

John paled and his gaze went back to his son. “What?” He knelt beside Dean’s chair, reached out and lifted his chin to get a better look at his son's bruised face. “How in the hell did that happen?”

“I…” Reaves faltered. “I just let him out of my sight for a minute. It happened so fast.”

John’s dark gaze went back to his protégé. “Why the hell were you there? Sawyer was supposed to be the escort."

Attention diverted to Sawyer, who was standing near the door ready to make a quick exit. "I think Reaves has something to say about that."

Reaves shrugged, knowing the shit was about to hit the fan. “I decided to get some air and then we went to the city.”

Winchester released Dean's face and his jaw clenched. “What fucking city, Caleb?”

“Louisville.”

John stood with arms crossed in front of the psychic. “Don’t tell me…”

“He wanted to see Sammy,” Caleb interrupted. “He just wanted to give him the dragons…that’s all.”

“Goddamnit, Caleb!” Winchester exploded. “What the hell were you trying to prove?”

“I wasn’t trying to prove anything,” Reaves defended. “We took Sam the dragons. That’s it.”

John continued to glower. “How the hell did you find out where Conner was staying in the first place?"

In for a dime, in for a whole dollar. Caleb pushed on. “I read you,” he lied.

Ames frowned at that. His son’s abilities had not been normal since the concussion and he doubted they were up to bypassing John Winchester‘s defenses. Something was amiss.

“I trusted you!” John growled, buying the Swiss-cheese story in a moment of fury. “You knew that Conner made it clear about the whole visiting thing! How dare you cross that line!”

“Johnathan,” Jim tried. “We need to focus on Dean at the moment.”

John glanced up at the pastor, who had come to stand beside Caleb. “That’s a good point, Jim. How did Dean get attacked, Kid? First you take him into the city to see his brother and then you let him get mauled by that sick psychotic pedophile we’ve been chasing. The Brotherhood has cost me one son, you trying to finish off the other one?”

“What? A what?” Caleb asked, not quite sure he had heard the other man right.

“John!” Mac snapped. Winchester wasn’t the only parent who had watched their child be hurt in this whole mess. “That’s enough.”

“I’ll say when it’s enough.” Winchester continued to get in Caleb’s face, ignoring Mackland. “You knew better and this is just one more reason…”

“Back off, Johnathan!” Mackland said, the calmness in his voice belaying the fury in his gray eyes.

“Dad!” Dean shouted. “ It‘s not his fault. I went to the city alone.” Dean stared at his father. “Caleb didn’t know where I was either.”

Reaves shot the boy a hard look. “Shut up, Deuce. You’re delirious.”

“You what?” John was looking at his son now.

“I had to see Sammy, Dad. ”

Winchester moved away from Reaves, his attention focused solely on his own son. “But how…”

“I read your journal.” Dean swallowed thickly, his voice still hoarse. “I ditched Sawyer the first chance I got and hopped a bus into the city. I’m sorry.”

Mackland didn’t move from his position in front of Dean, so John was forced to tower above them both. “You disobeyed a direct order and went into the city by yourself? On a bus?”

Dean nodded.

Winchester raked his hands through his hair. When exactly had he lost complete control of the situation? “Goddamnit, Dean! I can’t fucking believe you would do something that stupid! Again!”

“I’m sorry.”

“You should be,” John raged. “I get that you’re pissed at me about Sam. I understand that you’re disappointed in me. But you know what, Dean? I’m pretty damn disappointed myself.” The boy could not be allowed to think he could disregard orders. It was a short road to a bad ending.

Caleb felt his pulse quicken, his face heat up as Dean’s green eyes filled. John was being his typical hard ass self, but now was not the time. “Fuck, John, if you would have just …”

Winchester swung a piercing glare in the psychic’s direction. “You…shut it!”

Reaves started to open his mouth again, but Jim laid a hand on his shoulder, giving it a hard squeeze. Caleb looked up at the pastor with an unspoken plea. When all else failed, The Guardian could usually calm the savage beast. Instead, the rescue came from a totally unexpected source.

“Perhaps I should take Dean upstairs? He’s looking pale.” Joshua spoke up.

All eyes went to Sawyer and he shrugged. “I’m sure the wet clothes aren’t doing much for his condition, either. He’s shivering. Isn’t shock an all too real threat?”

“He’s right,” Mackland agreed. He stood and maneuvered John back a few steps. “Take him upstairs, Joshua. Help him get into some dry clothes. Caleb can tell us the rest of the details and then I’ll be right up.”

Dean cast an unsure gaze to Reaves. Caleb nodded, offering him a faint grin. “Mac won't let anything happen to me.”

The twelve-year-old shrugged away Joshua’s help.

“Let him help you, Dean,” Mac told him. “I want to look at that knee before you move around on it.”

“I’m not exactly thrilled with this arrangement either.” Joshua complained, assisting the kid out of the kitchen and through the living room. There was a set of stairs near the pantry in the kitchen, but they were steep. In addition, Joshua wanted to put some distance between the raised voices and Dean. “But I’m hoping this will give me a chance to continue my reprimand of your earlier disregard for our arrangement.”

Dean groaned as they made slow work of the staircase. “I heard you in the car.”

“You were asleep in the car.” Joshua pushed the door to the boy’s room open and helped him inside. “I think the full effect was lost.”

Dean sat down on the bed, shooting Sawyer a quick look. “I needed to see Sam. You wouldn’t understand.”

Joshua frowned, holding the boy’s gaze for a moment. “Perhaps not.” He shook his head. “But we have a lot more in common than you might think.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Right. We’re practically twins.”

“Your wardrobe?” Joshua asked, ignoring the attitude.

The kid gestured to the closet. “Clothes in there.” Dean stressed his choice of words as if to accentuate their differences.

Sawyer removed a clean t-shirt and some sweats from the closet, returning to stand in front of Dean. “I was referring to our fathers.”

The kid took the clothes, his green eyes narrowing as he thought of Harland Sawyer. “I don’t think so.”

“No?” Joshua shrugged and leaned against the small desk by the bed. “They seem cut from the same proverbial cloth, if you ask me.” Joshua had disappointed his father too many times to count.

Dean stared down at the tee, trying to decide if he could manage it with his aching wrist. “My dad's a hero,” he said softly.

Sawyer sighed, but stepped forward and gently tugged the boy’s shirt over his head. “So they tell me over and over again about my own father.”

“I guess.” Dean shivered as the cool air met his skin. Harland had helped save them a few years before when he, Caleb and Sam had been taken by a man wanting something from Jim. But even then, as a ten-year-old, Dean had picked up on the tension between Harland and his father. Harland was doing what he did out of duty. John Winchester was brave, fearless and loyal. Something Dean was pretty sure Harland Sawyer was not.

“But there is a reason that Superman, Batman, and Spiderman don’t have children,” Joshua continued to prattle on as he removed Dean’s shoes and set them by the bed. “Being a hero is a full-time profession with little room for fallacy or human tenderness."

Dean accepted the blanket Joshua handed him. “My dad's a good dad.”

Joshua lifted his gaze to the boy’s, taking in the challenging set to his jaw and the determined look in his green eyes. He had a half-hearted thought to disagree, but then realized it wouldn’t be worth his effort. He opted for a safe reply. “Lucky you.”

Dean frowned, not sure if Joshua was talking down to him or being serious. “At least you have a mom.”

The statement caught Sawyer off-guard and he rocked back on his heels. The boy was right. Joshua had grown up with the luxury of discounting his father because he had another parent willing to take care of him, to pick up the slack. “That’s true.” As he thought of Esme it became suddenly clear why Ames and Murphy were so crucial to the Winchester boys. Why Caleb was important to Dean. “You would like her, I think. She’s very kind, and quite stunning.”

“My mom was beautiful.”

The older man nodded. “I’ve heard as much.”

"My dad loved her more than anything."

Joshua nodded. "I can name many things my father loved more than my mother."

Dean shrugged, looking away towards the door as if suddenly aware of perhaps revealing more than he had meant to. “It’s pretty quiet down there.”

Joshua stood. “There are quiet ways to kill a person,” he offered in jest, trying to lighten the mood in a way he had seen the others do on occasion.

Unfortunately, Dean jerked his head to look at him and Sawyer realized his curse of saying the most inappropriate thing at the most inopportune moment was once again in full effect.

The kid had barely escaped being murdered by strangulation and perhaps joking about silent death was not the best choice. “I mean… I’m sure things are fine. I’ve seen your father knock Caleb around a bit, but nothing ever life threatening.”

The boy continued to stare at him and for the second time that night Joshua found himself in foreign territory. “Fine. I’ll go check on matters.”

Dean finally nodded. “Thanks.”

Sawyer inclined his head. “But I haven’t forgotten the insubordination. I’ll be filing a report with Jim and feel that it may set you back some time in receiving your hunter’s ring.”

Dean shrugged his shoulders. He had other things to worry about-his brother, his father, and Caleb meeting an early demise.

A frown marred Joshua’s face when the child did not make a flippant remark. He glanced back at the boy. “Try to rest up until Mackland sees to you. I don’t want him believing I shirked my duties.”

Joshua moved out of the room and back down the stairs. He didn’t make it to the last step before Caleb’s voice registered, and he entered the kitchen to catch the very end of the hunter’s recant of their harrowing tale.

“The poor boy.” Jim Murphy’s face was pale as he held Reaves’s gaze with rapt attention. “Thank God for your gift.”

Caleb’s eyebrow shot up at that. Jim had told him countless times his abilities were a gift and he usually took it with a grain of salt, but tonight the assurance was more like the pastor was rubbing salt in a raw wound. “Are you kidding me? Some gift.” Reaves shook his head. “I’ve been having these visions for weeks and not once did the damn things show me the danger Dean was in.”

“That’s not true, Son.” Mac interrupted. “You connected to the victims instead of the perpetrator, and now we know why you were linking with these killings when they weren’t of a supernatural nature. It was all because of the danger Dean was in.”

The psychic rolled his eyes. “So my abilities were playing twenty questions with me? That doesn’t make me feel better, Dad. Dean almost died.’

“I’m just saying that I find it interesting that you have this link with Dean.” Mackland shared a look with Jim. It was the way of The Knight and The Guardian in more traditional pairings. In the research Mackland had done into past Triads, The Knight had a psychic link to both The Scholar and Guardian. Although it was never noted anywhere that Knights held abilities like Caleb’s. That uniqueness usually fell to The Scholar. “As you grow stronger…”

“I don’t care about the future, Mac!” Caleb snapped. “I’m pissed about the right now.”

“Caleb, you saved Dean because of your gift,” Jim said patiently.

“But I could have…”

“You could have never known,” Mackland spoke up again. “Then where would that have left Dean? The only thing supernatural about this case is our involvement.”

“You said that before.” Caleb sighed. “And tell me what the hell did John mean about this thing being a pedophile?” Reaves hadn’t been given the chance to ask any questions of his own until he had endured their debriefing and satisfied John with the assurance that Conner wasn’t anymore annoyed than usual.

John was the one who spoke up, but he still didn't meet Caleb's gaze. “Bobby and I worked the detective angle with those cops over in Crossville. We got our hands on the preliminary autopsy report.”

“And?” Reaves prodded.

Winchester ran a hand over his mouth. “The boy was beaten and strangled.”

“I told you that.”

“But you only witnessed the initial attack.”

“I‘m assuming you were spared the rest because you were connecting with the victim. When they died, your link was broken.” Mackland placed his hands on the kitchen table. “You weren't privy to the details of the killer’s plan.”

“What plan?” Reaves demanded. “I don’t understand.”

“The killings have a ritualistic aspect, but nothing, I think, is linked to any sort of demonic forces/” Bobby set a cup of coffee in front of Caleb. “The markings on the bodies don’t make sense and the blood draining is haphazard and messy.” He hesitated, glancing to Mackland. “Then there’s the whole necrophilia thing...”

“What?” The psychic ignored the steaming drink, his gaze going to his father again. “They were assaulted?”

“Post mortem, yes.” Mackland nodded. “I wasn’t privy to that information. The FBI has brought in their own profiler but the M.E. was forthcoming with our two resident detectives. She shared that the other boy was also. . .”

“Who commits such a heinous crime?” Joshua asked, joining them at the table. “Do they have any leads?”

Ames shook his head. “They’re holding onto the hope that the man might be looking for recognition…his fifteen minutes of fame. That perhaps he’ll want to play their game.”

Reaves closed his eyes, took a breath to try to calm his aching head. “No. He’s not playing with the authorities. He wants something from the victims.”

“Why do you say that?” John asked, wearily.

“Because I sensed it. He was hunting for something. He picked Dean for a reason. I can’t really explain it.”

“Wait,” Ames interrupted, holding up his hand. “How do you know this if you were connected to Dean at the time?”

Reaves lifted his tortured eyes to his father. “I didn’t connect with Dean, not in this last vision. It wasn’t like any of the others or the nightmares. I connected with that sick mother fucker.” He seemed to realize what he had said and glanced remorsefully to Jim. “Sorry, Jim.”

“Don’t be my boy.” Murphy sighed. “I dare say your description is quite fitting.”

“Caleb…” Ames started, realizing what it must have been like for his son to be in that position when Dean was the one being brutalized.

The psychic shook his head. “Don’t, Dad.”

The doctor ignored his son’s protest, determined to erase whatever inappropriate guilt the younger man was dealing with. “Your instincts to protect Dean kicked into overdrive. That’s the only reason you connected with that monster. It gave you an advantage-a way to find him in time. It has nothing to do with anything else.”

“Like my grandfather being possessed by a demon when he killed a bunch of children to immortalize himself.” Reaves clenched his fists, glancing down to the black and blue bruises on his wrist, the same ones Dean would have in the morning. “So not only do I have to connect with supernatural freaks now…but I can link up to your everyday human monsters too.”

“No,” Jim spoke up. “I’m quite sure this has to do with your destiny as The Knight, not with whatever connection you may hold to any demonic forces.”

Every eye went to The Guardian. It was unlike him to speak about the future, especially in front of the younger generation. Mac wondered idly if his friend would explain further. Perhaps if Caleb understood the position Dean was meant to hold, then it would make it easier for him…

“The Knight is trained to watch out for members of The Brotherhood. If they’re in danger, he has an innate sense about such things.” His eyes went to Joshua. “Your grandfather, Seth, would show up just in the nick of time to save his brethren. It was uncanny.”

Caleb frowned and his gaze went to John as if the man had been withholding information from him.

Winchester held up his hands. “Don’t look at me, Kid. I’m not exactly the traditional Knight, and you know that.” John had always looked at it as an interim position.

“Nothing about this Triad is traditional,” Joshua pointed out, and found all eyes on him for the second time that evening. He shrank slightly in his chair. “Or so my father says.”

Jim nodded. “Harland may be correct, but we are The Triad just the same.”

“Yes, sir.” Sawyer said, contritely. "Dean's waiting for you." He looked at Ames.

Ames shook his head as if he had let himself get carried away in the wrong direction. "I'll get my kit."

"You left him alone up there?" Caleb frowned.

Joshua ignored the younger hunter.

“I’m coming with you.” John stood.

“Bring the icepacks from the freezer,” Mac instructed him and then turned back to his son. “And you should come up soon. You look almost as bad as you did in the hospital.”

“I’m not taking anymore of your drugs, Mac. I need to be sharp with this guy on the loose.”

Mac started to protest, but Joshua beat him to it. “I have some natural herbs that will do the same thing as your more modern painkillers.”

“Sounds good.” Caleb looked up at his father. “I’ll take some of Josh’s Mojo. Satisfied?”

Ames sighed, casting a quick glance in Sawyer’s direction. “As long as I look at it before you take it.”

“I assure you it’s one of Esme’s favorite cocktail ingredients.”

“I’ve been privy to your mother’s homemade party favors, Son,” Mackland confessed. “Some of the herbs she uses are not legal in industrialized nations.”

“Yeah, Mackland got himself shot on a hunt with John one night and your lovely momma fixed the famous Doctor Ames right up.”

“Didn’t he develop…” John snapped his fingers trying to recall the appropriate words. “You know one of those doctor-nurse crushes after that?"

Bobby laughed, looking from Joshua to Caleb. “Damn. You two could have ended up like the Brady Bunch.”

“This is not the time,” Mac growled, taking the ice packs from John, and started for the stairs. “We’re in the middle of a crisis. I swear you two will never grow up.”

Caleb and Joshua exchanged a look and Reaves summed up what they were both thinking. “I think I just threw up a little.”

"I'm going to get my kit." Joshua said, wanting to put some space between him and Reaves for a bit.

"Is your kit bigger than Mac's kit?" Bobby asked.

Joshua ignored the grizzly hunter with a sigh, and went to his car.

Murphy stared at Singer, who fidgeted. "I'm going to find something to do."

Jim nodded.

Alone with Caleb, he patted the boy's shoulder and moved to claim the seat Joshua had vacated. “A penny for your thoughts. Or does that cost me a dollar with you these days also? Sammy has upped the ante on me I’m afraid.”

Reaves shook his head, toying with the cup of coffee he had yet to touch. “I’m just thinking how I screwed everything up.” He flicked his gaze to Jim. “Again.”

“I think saving Dean cannot be counted as a mistake.”

“Yeah.” Caleb pushed the cup away “Hell of a job I did with that.”

Jim’s frown grew. “I understand you're worried but…”

“I’m going to find him. And when I do I’m going to kill him before he can hurt Dean again.”

Murphy exhaled, heavily. “My boy, Dean’s safe now.

The psychic shook his head. “ That thing won’t give up. I don’t know exactly what he wanted, but I know to him it was worth killing for. That’s not something that’s easily let go of.”

Jim eyed the boy in front of him, trying to choose his words carefully. The only person harder and trickier to talk to was John. They both were quick to misinterpret things. But where John would lash out, trying to separate himself from what he considered an attack, Caleb would withdraw from what he saw as impending punishment, exiling himself before he could be hurt. “I fear I have failed you somewhere along the way.”

“What?” Caleb’s head jerked up from his intense study of the design on the placemat. “What are you talking about?”

Jim raised a brow in the psychic’s direction. “Whether it was this latest incident with Conner or something else…”

“Jim.” Reaves shook his head. “You haven’t done anything.”

“Then I don’t understand why you don’t trust me.”

“Come again.”

“The incident with Dean today.” Murphy stared at the young hunter. “I was at a loss when I couldn’t find the boy or Joshua. After what happened with Griffin, I can’t take anything for granted anymore. I am The Guardian. Sometimes I know you forget that, but I don’t have the luxury of doing so.”

“I’m sorry.” It was true. Caleb took his place in Jim’s life for granted. He knew he, Dean and Sam meant more to the older man, but some of that favoritism had to change when Caleb had accepted his ring. He wasn’t just one of Jim’s boys anymore. He was a hunter. A member of The Brotherhood. Caleb hadn’t considered anyone else’s reaction but John’s. He merely wanted to find Dean and fix things. He looked at the pastor. “It wasn’t because I don’t trust you. I trust you with my life.”

“But not with Dean’s?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I can’t say that I blame you. After the kidnapping…and the last time Dean pulled a stunt like this.” Jim shook his head. “But you more than anyone should understand I have to tread softly with Johnathan. If I push too hard, I’m afraid…” The pastor waved a hand in the air as if to dismiss the thought. “And now this thing with Conner.”

“None of those things were your fault, Jim. Johnny knows that.”

The pastor held the psychic’s gaze. “And what happened to Dean tonight is not yours. John knows that.”

Reaves exhaled heavily, realizing he was being led into a logical argument he couldn’t escape. It was a typical Murphy move. “Jim…”

“I told you when you came to us that we would protect you. That you would have a family you could belong to.”

“And you have protected me. I do have a family.”

“I have tried to do my best. But the nature of what we do…what I will ask of you, what The Brotherhood will someday ask.” Murphy shook his head, feeling the weight of his position made heavier by the events of the last few days. “I fear it is too much for anyone to ask.”

“I want to be The Knight, Jim. I don’t want to disappoint you or let you down. I don't want to let John down.”

“Then we fear the same thing.” Murphy reached out and patted the younger man’s hand. “Perhaps we both worry too much that we are letting down those we love most, because I can assure you that I have never been disappointed in you.”

Caleb favored him with a slight grin. “Ditto.”

Jim removed his hand. “But I expect you to follow protocol next time. Let me handle your mentor.”

Reaves toyed with his cup of coffee again. “I don’t get it, Jim. How can this keep happening?” He met Murphy’s solemn gaze. “Sammy’s gone! He’s gone, and now I almost let Dean get killed by some sick bastard who would have…” The very thought of what the man had done to the other children, what he had in mind for Dean made him physically ill-made him want to kill something. “Damn it! He’s just a kid.”

“There are some things that I can not explain or understand, my boy. Evil so great, that it is untouchable by our usual methods. Humans can be the scariest of monsters, I’m afraid.”

“That thing’s not human, and he’s not untouchable by me. If I can connect with him, I can find him.”

“Caleb.” Murphy sighed. “We are not in the business of dealing out punishment to those who commit crimes of this world. It is not the place of The Brotherhood. That is a job for the law-the real law,” the pastor specified. “We will track this man and then your father will work with his contacts in the FBI to capture him.”

“We dole out justice everyday, Jim. This man hurt one of our own. I have visions for a reason. You told me that. A divine gift is what you called it. You told me it was my way of helping people-saving them.” Murphy wasn’t the only one who could use logic. “And now you’re telling me it’s not my place to deal with this. Then why the hell did I have to watch all those kids die? Why did I have to see Dean hurt, to feel like I actually had a part in it?”

“To save Dean.”

Caleb glanced away. Joshua had re-entered the kitchen with a large, plastic tool box and any further conversation was quieted. Reaves stood, wavering a moment. "I'm going to check on Dean."

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