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 2/5

The wind had picked up considerably by the time they crested the next ridge, kicking up fallen leaves and causing it to feel colder than it actually was. Shade was working against them also in both the temperature department and light aspect.

Even though many of the trees had shed their leaves, what was left of the early November sun didn’t seem strong enough to penetrate the heavy canopy of pines and other evergreens. Darkness would be upon them very soon.

“I think it may be just over the next hill.” Joshua lifted his binoculars to his eyes and peered through the thick forest in front of him. “We can make it before it gets completely dark if we pick up speed.” He turned his gaze to the trio, dropping the binoculars to swing freely from his neck.

“You said that about this hill, too.” Caleb pointed out, shifting Sam’s weight so he could free up a hand to push at his long hair, which was being whipped about by the chilling gale.

The little boy had fallen asleep some time ago, his head resting against the older hunters back, where Reaves could feel small puffs of breath hitting his neck. What had started out as an exciting adventure for Sam had long since become a taxing journey which he wanted over with. “And if you haven’t noticed, it’s already dark.”

“I got him,” Dean said from beside of Reaves, and Caleb released his hold on the little boy’s legs, letting his brother take him.

Joshua shot him a side long glance. “Well if you hadn’t had to play nursemaid, then we might have made better time.”

“What did you want me to do?” Caleb snapped, rolling his stiff shoulders, glancing to where Sam was now blearily rubbing his eyes and yawning. “Leave them behind?”

“You could have left them at the cabin.”

“With a Black Dog on the loose? That would have went over really well with John and Pastor Jim.”

“We could have taken care of ourselves.” Dean didn’t like Reaves’ insinuation that he was defenseless. He might have been ten, but he could already handle any weapon and was decent in hand to hand.

“Shut up, Deuce.”

“You shut up.”

“Dean?” Sam tugged at his brother’s sleeve. “I got to go.”

“Not now, Sammy.”

“And they’re going to be so happy when they show back up at the cabin and no one’s there to tell them where we are.” Joshua shook his head, pointed his finger at the teen. “You’re going down for that little faux pas, not me Reaves.”

“I was trying to keep your ass out of trouble.”

“Caleb,” Sam tried again, bouncing up on his toes to pull at the psychic’s arm. “I got to go.”

“Not now, runt,” Reaves brushed the little boy off, his attention completely focused on Sawyer.

“Oh, please. Like you are such the team player, Caleb. Admit it. You were afraid I was going to make a score with the whole Demon Dog thing. You couldn’t stand that I might actually have the upper hand for a change. That I might get a ring before you.”

“You mean that stupid tracking system?” Caleb snorted. “That thing is about as useful as a poodle on a fox hunt.”

“Then it’s right on par with those amazing psychic abilities of yours now isn’t it?”

“At least he didn’t spend a fortune on his freaky mind powers,” Dean interjected. “The guy must have seen you coming a mile a way-or maybe he smelled you. That aftershave reeks.”

“Shut up!”

“Leave him out of it, Sawyer.”

“I’d love to, but he keeps sticking his little nose where it doesn’t belong.”

Before Dean or Caleb could come back with a reply, a mournful howl cut through the moaning wind rushing through the valley below them.

“What was that?” Joshua’s head shot up, his alert eyes scanning the darkened woods.

“Sounds like a hungry Black Dog if you ask me.” Reaves replied, checking the gun he had tucked into the back of his jeans. At least he hadn’t come completely unprepared. “It must be a whole hell of a lot better at tracking than you.”

“Sammy?” Dean said as soon as the unholy sound echoed around them again. He reached to his side, trying to latch onto the kid, and nearly panicked when he met only air. “Sam!’ He whirled around searching the small clearing for his brother but there was no sign of the little boy. “Sammy!”

Caleb turned to the distraught ten-year-old, instantly realizing the problem. “Shit!” He swore, rushing after Dean who was heading for the tree-line, frantically calling out for Sam to answer him over the now roaring wind.

“Deuce-hold up!” Reaves caught his jacket, stopped him from going into the thick forest.

Dean stopped, but cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted again. “Sam! Where are you?” He turned a terror-filled gaze to the psychic. “Do you feel him?”

Caleb understood what the kid was asking-could he psychically sense the other boy. Dean had learned early on that playing hide and seek was pointless when your opponent could find you with a quick thought. He took a deep breath, reached in search of the boy. He winced as he made contact, still not use to the nerve-rattling sensation of filtering through all the other presences around to reach one specific person. What worried him most was the other essence he felt. “He’s not far.” Reaves quickly opened his eyes, put a hand on Dean’s shoulder. “He’s okay.”

The psychic turned, finding Josh right behind them. “Can you set up some kind of protection from that thing? It’s close. ”

“I didn’t bring any salt.” Joshua slid his pack off, dug inside. “I have a dagger.”

“And?” Reaves demanded, impatiently. “Do you have a spell or something?”

“I don‘t really do the spell thing!”

“Since when?”

“Since I don’t want to be seen as a witch.”

Caleb sighed. “Then what the hell are you going to do with the dagger, because the last time I checked a silver-bullet to the heart was the only thing stopping one of those bastards.” He jabbed his gun towards the woods as another howl broke loose, and Dean struggled in his grip, calling out for Sam again.

“I can do a blood-binding. I have an incantation that will work I think.”

The psychic looked at him with slight exasperation. “A spell.”

Joshua rolled his eyes. “Yes, damn it. A spell.”

“Good. Do it.” Reaves knelt in front of Dean. “Deuce, keep your ass in that circle. I’m going after Sammy.”

The kid shook his head. “No! I want to help.”

“Then use this to draw a circle in the dirt.” Joshua thrust a sturdy-looking stick with a small amethyst crystal fastened to the tip of it with silver wire in his direction. “It’s white ash,” he explained, as if that were an important delineation. Dean and Caleb frowned at him.

“A wand?” Reaves raised a brow.

Joshua growled deep in his throat. “If you insist on using archaic terminology, then yes-a wand.” He sighed. “It was my mothers.”

Caleb nodded, gave Dean a small shove. “Do it, kid.”

“Make it large,” Joshua instructed, digging in his pack again. When he looked back up Reaves was gone. He could barely hear him tearing through the brush over the gusting gale, but he could hear his calls for the youngest Winchester. His gaze went back to Dean, who was carefully and quickly doing as he asked. “Don’t close it until I’m there.”

Dean continued to drag the staff along the ground in a large 360 degree arch, his eyes flicking from the dirt and leaf covered earth to the woods where Caleb had gone. He couldn’t believe he had let his little brother out of his sight. It had only taken a moment and Sammy was gone. He swallowed the large lump in his throat, blinking away the stinging that had started at the back of his eyes.

“Stay on the inside as you finish.”

Sawyer was beside him now, holding a dangerous looking blade and a carved wooden bowl. When Dean was finished closing the invisible circle, Joshua took the wand from him, mumbling a few words, before waving it over the bowl.

Another howl pierced the early night and Dean jumped, clenching his fists tightly. That one had sounded much closer. Sawyer didn’t even look up as he placed the bowl on the ground, quickly slicing the blade across his palm.

The ten-year-old bit his lip to keep from calling out to his brother again as this time a vicious snarling and growling was carried to them on the wind. He turned his gaze back to Joshua, who was mixing his own blood with a handful of dirt. “It’s from outside the circle,” he explained as if Dean had questioned him. “My blood is like the magical mortar.”

Dean didn’t really care about the stupid details of Sawyer’s freaky spell. He just wanted Caleb to burst through the tree-line with Sammy in tow-for them all to be home.

Joshua’s voice echoed around him now in a loud chant, and he couldn’t help but to watch in curiosity as the older boy first touched the wand to the bloody concoction in the bowl, and then to the ground.

Where the crystal met earth, a spark suddenly ignited, and a large violet-hued flame leapt forth. It grew and raced like a snake around the ground, forming a circle of purple fire around them. The blaze died as quickly as it had begun, but a protective ring of pale light still glowed in its wake. Dean looked up at Joshua, who grinned. “Abracadabra.”

“We’re protected now?”

The older hunter nodded. “Nothing evil can reach us.”

Another howl and more snarling had Dean bouncing on his toes. “But we can go out?”

Sawyer knelt down to gather the things he would need to make a normal fire. “You can.”

Joshua realized his mistake as soon as he said it. The Winchester kid was moving towards the woods before he could even stand back up. “Dean!” He shouted. “Don’t you dare!”

The boy stopped and glanced at him. “I’ve got to help them. I can lead it away so Caleb can get back to the circle. Then I’ll double back,” he explained as if it were a simple game of hopscotch. “I’m fast.”

Joshua started for him, just as Dean stepped over the circle. “Damn it! Reaves can take care of himself!”

The ten-year-old glared at him. “But Sammy can’t.” And he was gone.

“Fuck!” Joshua growled. “Dean Winchester, get back here!” When only rattling branches and another chilling howl answered him back, he stomped to the center of the circle, kicking up dirt as he went. “Fucking Reaves. This is all his fault.”

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Caleb sighed as he helped Sam quickly refasten his jeans. He couldn’t be mad at the kid. After all this whole mess was his fault. “Hurry, Sammy. We got to go.”

“You didn’t listen to me when I said that.”

Reaves picked his gun back up and scooped the little boy in his other arm. “Yeah, and look where that got us.” He shook his head, standing. “Why did you go so far in the woods in the first place?”

“I couldn’t find the right kind of tree.”

Caleb didn’t want to know what that was about, so he merely picked up his pace. “Next time…you don’t go anywhere alone. Got it?”

“Got it,” Sam mumbled, burying closer to him as leaves and small branches nipped at them, in their hurried pace.

Reaves found the small clearing easily enough in the dark, especially with the faint purplish glow emanating from around it. He started to breath a sigh of relief at their obvious good fortune when his eyes met Sawyer’s.

The older boy was standing in the middle of the protection circle in front of a large, roaring fire, and he was completely alone.

Caleb stepped through the ring, and sat Sam on the ground, inside the boundary. “Where the hell is Dean?”

Josh’s face paled. “He’s not with you?”

“Hell no! I left him here with you!” He grasped Sam’s hand, making sure the little boy didn’t get any notions about running off to find his brother. “Tell me you didn’t let him go off alone?”

“Let him?” Joshua snapped. “I ordered him to stay here. But guess what? In case you haven’t noticed, you two have a whole lot of things in common.”

“Shit!” Reaves raked a hand through his hair, just as the heart-stopping scream tore through the night.

The wall of pain hit him with the same intensity and he grabbed at his head as his senses were overcome with a sickening cocktail of shock and fear. “Deuce!” he shouted, starting for the opposite side of the clearing just as Dean broke through the woods in a stumbling gate. Their gazes met and locked as the ten-year-old tried to get to the circle.

He didn’t quite make it though, as a black shadow emerged behind him, solidifying into the form of a large ebony dog.

The psychic heard Sam yell, prayed Joshua had the sense to hold onto the kid, as he crossed the protective circle to get to Dean in time. He lifted his gun as he went, but the beast was quick, pouncing on the boy before Reaves could get a shot off.

Then Dean was screaming and the dog was tearing at him, shaking him, as the two of them rolled around in the dead, wet leaves. Caleb was terrified that he would hit the boy if he fired, but he couldn’t stand by and do nothing.

Joshua pulled the five-year-old to him, turning him away from the frenzied attack, as his mind raced for a way to be of any help. Spells and magical words fled through his head, but nothing stuck-no specific counter for what was taking place.

Reaves opened his mind, hoping to connect somehow with the animal, if only to distract it. His overtaxed senses reeled under the onslaught of emotion coming from Dean, but he was able to hold it at bay long enough to touch the darkness on the other side.

He knew the instant he made connection. His blood seemed to turn to ice, branching out along his circulatory system like a fissure in a frozen pond. The horrors of loss and grief and everything tainted in the world seeped into him and he screamed as suddenly what had been frost turned to fire -his cries mixing with Dean’s.

The experience of touching the Black Dog’s thoughts must have been as an unpleasant experience for the beast as it was for him. It lifted it’s bloodied jowls from Dean’s body and yelped, turning glowing red eyes on the hunter.

Caleb didn’t hesitate. As soon as it moved, he cut the mental link, lifted his gun again and fired blindly. The unholy creature snarled and lunged for him and Reaves fired twice more, striking the monster’s chest, but not getting a clear heart shot. It howled again, and fled into the forest.

He nearly sank to his knees in relief, but the harsh breathing and muffled sobs coming from Dean propelled him forward. “Deuce?”

The kid jumped and tried to curl into a ball when Reaves hand touched him. “Easy,” he soothed, placing a hand on the boy’s cold face. “It’s me, kiddo. It’s Caleb.”

Dean blinked, his breath still hitching. “Caleb?”

“Yeah,” Caleb barely had the word out of his mouth when the boy was struggling to get up.

He helped him and was completely taken by surprise when Dean latched onto him, practically crawling inside of his jacket. “Hey, it’s okay.” Reaves pulled him closer, took the opportunity to slide one arm under the boy’s legs and lift him. “I’ve got you. You’re okay.” They needed to get into the circle quickly incase the dog got brave and tried another attack.

He could feel the violent shivers wracking the boy’s body as he made his way to their only protection. Sam was by his side as soon as he crossed over. “Dean! Dean!” The five-year-old cried.

“He’s okay, Sammy. Just hold on.” Caleb said with more confidence than he felt as he moved as close to the fire as he could get before carefully maneuvering Dean to the ground.

The ten-year-old seemed as reluctant to let go of him as he was to give the kid up, but he finally coaxed him to a sitting position and moved far enough away to get a good look at the boy. “Let’s check you out, Deuce.”

“I’m okay,” Dean said, breathily. “I’m okay. I’m okay.” He repeated. His glassy, wild-eyed stare and trembling limbs told another story, and Reaves shared a worried sidelong glance with Sawyer.

“Sure you are,” Caleb forced a smile, and swallowed thickly, to dislodge the enormous lump from his throat. “Sammy, why don’t you move back just a little, huh?”

The youngest Winchester shook his head, continued the death grip he had on his big brother’s blood-slicked hand. Reaves watched as large, silent tears slipped from the eyes locked unflinchingly on Dean’s dirt-smeared face, and he forced his voice to remain calm.

“Sammy, look at me.”

Sam finally glanced to Caleb, more tears falling steadily now. “Dean’s hurt.”

“We’re going to fix him up,” Reaves promised. “But I need some room to work. Okay?”

Joshua watched the psychic interact with the little boy, surprised at not only the uncharacteristic soft tone of his voice, but at the second-nature instincts he seemed to possess when it came to dealing with him. For everything he knew about the other hunter, for all the whispers and rumors he’d been privy to, nothing began to describe the behaviors he’d witnessed. Half-demon or not, he had a way with Winchester’s kids.

Sam finally let go of Dean and scooted back a few inches, anxiously watching as Caleb began to assess the damage the Black Dog had caused. “Where are you hurt, Deuce?”

Dean’s jacket was shredded on his right side. The light blue fabric was smeared with dirt and blood, like the kid’s hands. He looked up at Reaves, his pale features illuminated in the firelight. “I don’t know.”

Reaves licked his lips, realizing the boy was in shock. “Can’t be too bad if you aren’t bitching about it.” He grinned then, running his hand over Dean’s short, blond hair.

“Yeah,” Dean said, shakily, but he was starting to look a little more with it.

“What were you thinking out there?” Caleb asked as he gently peeled back the pieces of fabric to get a look at the damaged skin beneath. “That wasn’t the smartest thing you’ve done.”

“I…I was worried about Sammy,” Dean hissed, as the psychic lifted his arm to check for breaks.

“I had to pee.” Sam spoke up, breaking some of the tension with his five-year-old indignation. “Real bad.”

Dean glanced at his brother. “It’s okay, Sammy.”

“No it’s not,” Reaves said casually, trying to keep everyone’s mind off the current crisis. At least the boy’s arm wasn’t broken or dislocated. “You both are going to be doing my laundry for a week for this little total disregard for the rules.”

“There’s no rules against going to the bathroom,” Sam pointed out, and Caleb favored him with a hard look.

“I was talking about the one about going anywhere alone.”

“I told him not to go,” Joshua spoke up then. “I ordered him to stay put.”

Caleb glanced at the other hunter and then back to the ten-year-old. What worried him the most were the bites. The wounds were deep, oozing blood, steadily. And the fact that he couldn’t remember if a Black’s saliva was poisonous or not scared the hell out of him, made his voice more gruff than he meant for it to be. “Dean… why the hell didn’t you listen to him?”

The kid blinked, his eye lashes standing out in stark contrast against his blanched cheeks. “He’s not in charge. You are.”

“I am in charge!” Sawyer snapped. “ I’m the oldest hunter. You have to listen to me.”

Reaves ignored Josh. “I would have told you the same damn thing, Deuce. In fact, I believe I did.” He looked at the boy, shook his head. “Let’s get this thing off of you.” The psychic eased Dean’s arm out of his shredded coat, and gently tore the sleeve of the kid’s shirt, wincing as he got a better look at the slashes across the boy’s shoulder. “You knew better than to leave the protection circle.” God, if he wasn’t a mess.

“But…Sammy…” Dean sucked in a breath as Caleb probed the deepest wound that reach half way to his chest.

“I had Sammy. I wouldn‘t let anything happen to him.”

“It’s my job to watch…out for him. And I heard the Dog…I wanted to give you two a chance to get back…” Dean panted.

“I’m sorry, Dean. I didn’t mean it.” Sam inched closer to his older brother, running his hands through his brother’s hair in a comforting motion. “I couldn’t hold it not one minute longer. I‘m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault…little brother.” Dean couldn’t help but to cry out as Caleb pressed his hand down over the wound and applied pressure.

“Stop it!” Sam shouted at Caleb, going for his hand that was causing his brother’s pain. “Stop hurting him.”

“Sawyer,” Reaves jutted his chin towards the little boy and Josh grabbed him, pulling him further away from Dean and Caleb.

“Let me go!” Sam shouted, and the psychic glared at him.

“Hush, Sam! Now!”

The little boy quieted under Caleb’s harsh tone, but continued to struggle against Josh’s hold.

Dean was trying to get his breathing under control, his watery green eyes looking up at Reaves. The initial shock had worn off, and the painful reality was taking hold. “I’m sorry, Deuce,” Caleb offered a tight grin. “But I’ve got to get this stopped, kiddo. Just hang tough-keep breathing. Okay?”

The ten-year-old nodded, closing his eyes and trying to hold his breath steady. “How bad…“

“Not too bad,” Caleb lied. “Add a little character to you is all. Chicks dig scars, you know.”

Dean opened his eyes, smirked. “I’m ten.”

“Yeah?” Caleb shook his head. “Ten-year-olds do what they’re told.”

“Sorry,” He gasped as Reaves pressed harder.

Reaves snorted. “No you’re not.”

Dean just looked at him, trying to blink away the tears that were threatening to fall. “If you had been…just a little…quicker on the shot…it would have worked…” Dean bit out, and Reaves sighed.

“I could have shot through you I guess, but then we’d had a whole ’nother kind of problem.”

“Try explaining…that…to Dad.” Dean looked up again, and Caleb rolled his eyes.

“No thanks. This will be bad enough.” He lifted his hand, his stomach rebelling at the slick, warm feel of blood-Dean’s blood. “He’s going to kill me.” At least the bleeding had slowed some.

The ten-year-old shook his head. “I’ll …tell him…it was Joshua’s fault.”

“The hell you will.” Sawyer snapped. “This is all on Reaves’ head. He’s the one that insisted on you guys tagging along.”

The psychic glared at Joshua, worry-fed anger making him shake. Didn’t the idiot know enough to keep his mouth shut-to just play along. “Give me your shirt, and get your hands off Sam.”

“Excuse me,” Sawyer gladly let the little boy go, and he rushed back to his brother.

“Your shirt,” Caleb started taking his own coat off. “I’m going to use it for bandages.”

“Great,” Josh sighed, but shrugged out of his jacket and pulled his white Henley over his head. “What’s wrong with your shirt?”

Reaves ignored him, tugging off the flannel over-shirt he was wearing, leaving him with only the short-sleeved Red Sox tee underneath. “How you doing, Deuce?”

“I’m good,” Dean told him, his eyes meeting Sam’s. “It’s just a scratch.” Reaves didn’t miss the way the kid’s breath still hitched, or the lines of pain etching his too-young face.

“Really?” Sam looked uncertainly to Caleb, who swallowed back his concern, and winked at him.

“Your big brother probably left a really bad taste in that old mutt’s mouth. Huh, Sammy?”

“Yeah,” Sam finally smiled. “I bet Dean doesn’t taste like chicken.”

The older Winchester snorted. “Like you two …taste like steak.”

“We should have let him take a bite out of Reaves,” Joshua proceeded to tear his shirt into large strips, handing them to Caleb, who was digging through his pack in search of the first aid kit he was certain he had brought. “Too bad Demon Dogs aren’t cannibalistic.”

“Shut up!” Dean was off the ground so fast, the psychic didn’t even register the movement before the kid was scrambling towards Josh, injury be damned. “Shut your stupid mouth!” Dean swung out at the older hunter, nearly clipping him with his fist. If Sawyer hadn‘t stumbled back, the kid would have landed a hard right to his mid-section. “I didn’t…see you moving out of the circle. You didn‘t care what happened to Sammy.” He screamed, lashing out again. “This is your fault.”

“Dean!” Caleb wrapped his arm around the kid’s waist, pulling him away from Sawyer. “Stop it.”

“I’m sick of him,” Dean choked, tears blurring his vision, straining his voice. “Fuckin’ jerk.” He shouted, as the psychic managed to pull him back towards the fire.

“Dean…you’re bleeding again.” Sam’s scared voice seemed to take the fight out of him and he would have fallen if Caleb hadn’t caught him.

“Easy, slugger,” Reaves muttered into his hair as he lowered him back to the ground, sinking to his knees beside of the younger boy. Sam hovered beside them, anxiously shifting from foot to foot. Either he was scared, or needed to go again. Caleb hoped it was the former.

He sighed, hoping a distraction would remedy either. “Get me the canteen, Sammy.” The eighteen-year-old pointed to where they had discarded their other things. “Before Captain No-brainer does anything else stupid.”

Dean glared at him, huffing through clenched teeth, two tears slipping from his long lashes. “It’s…Captain One-helluva Big Brother.”

Caleb shook his head. “Right. I forgot.”

“Here,” Joshua handed Caleb the rest of the bandages, his wary gaze staying on Dean. “What else do you need me to do?”

“Is getting us the hell out of here an option?” Caleb looked at him and for the first time Sawyer saw fear flicker in the intense green gaze. It was almost as unwelcome as it was unexpected.

“I think we’re here for the night.” He swallowed thickly. “Sorry.”

“Right.” They were sorry alright. Both of them. “Then see if you can find the damn first aid kit.”

“Uh, Caleb…” Dean started, and Reaves quickly turned back to face him.

“Yeah, kiddo?”

“I took the kit out.”

“What?” Reaves hissed. “Why the hell did you do that?”

Dean sighed, his breath hitching again. “To make room for Sam’s stuff.”

The psychic dropped his chin to his chest, tried to reign in his temper. That explained the extra set of very small clothes and the one-eyed WooBee bear. “Damn it, Deuce,” he sighed.

“I’m sorry,” the tremble in the kid’s voice had him forcing his own fear and frustration away. “I…didn’t think we’d need it.”

“It’s okay.” He looked at the ten-year-old. It was his job to recheck the pack, not Dean’s. “Didn’t really have any thing in there that would do you much good anyway.” Except for holy water and peroxide and some codeine for the pain. Not to mention a suture kit, and a space blanket.

“We had Band-aides.” Sam said, handing the canteen he had retrieved to Reaves. “And cherry Tylenol.”

Reaves looked back to Dean, taking the water from Sammy with a small grin. “Guess your big brother knocked himself out of trying out those really cool ET Band-aides you conned Jim into buying, huh?”

“Yeah,” Sam nodded, frowning at the other boy. “They glow in the dark, too.”

“We’ll just have to make do with these.” Caleb held up the pieces of Sawyer’s shirt. “They don’t glow in the dark, but I’m willing to bet they’re designer.”

“You bet your Wal-mart rags they were,” Joshua grumped, “And I’ll be expecting a new one when we get out of this mess.”

Reaves ignored him, instead focusing once more on his patient, and the nasty shoulder wound. “I’m going to clean this the best I can, Rocky. You ready?”

Dean nodded, bit his lip when Sam’s small fingers curled around his hand. “I can take it.”

Caleb had no doubt he could. The boy was tough. “Some of these need stitches, but it will have to wait until we get you back to Jim.” Reaves poured the water over the wounds, hating the pain he was causing, knowing plain tap water wasn’t going to do much good. He hoped the hell-beast didn’t have rabies.

“That’ll be fun.” Dean sassed, trying to take his mind off of the burning sensation the cold water was causing.

“Jim’s a good doctor.” Sam informed his brother, sincerely, as he brought his other hand to also grip his brother’s. “He’ll fix you good as new.”

When Caleb was done with the torture, he wrapped the wounds quickly, immobilizing the boy's arm against his chest. He then helped Dean slip into his flannel shirt.

A sudden mournful howl broke the quiet night and both younger boys jumped, Sam practically crawling on top of his brother.

“Easy, runt,” Caleb cautioned the five-year-old as he watched Dean wince as a sharp elbow bumped his shoulder. “Take it easy.”

“You think that thing will come back?” Dean asked, hoping his voice didn’t sound as shaky as he felt. The last thing he wanted was another run in with Cujo.

Caleb let his hand rest on the kid’s uninjured shoulder as his sharp eyes searched the darkness around them. “Doubt it. I know I hit it a few times. Might not have been a heart shot, but that silver will make it think twice about coming back for seconds.”

“It could have a mate.” Joshua offered up, and the psychic looked at him like he’d just lost what little sense he might have had. “What? Most of them run in packs,” the blond defended, ignorantly.

“I want Daddy,” Sam whimpered, burrowing closer to his brother.

“Nice,” Reaves bit out, continuing to glare at Sawyer. “Come on, Sammy. How about you help me with Dean?”

The five-year-old lifted his head, but didn’t move away from his brother. “He’s okay,” Dean said between clenched teeth, when Caleb reached out to take the kid.

“I know he is, but I have a job for him.”

“A job?” Sam let go of his brother and went to Caleb, who gave him a forced grin.

“Yeah. You’re going to be my space blanket.”

“Huh?” Sam tilted his head.

“Yep,” Caleb gave him a serious look. “I’m going to need you to keep Dean warm, okay. We don’t want him getting cold during the night. It’s very important.”

“Dude…” Dean complained, but a sharp look from Reaves shut him up.

“He needs to rest, and so do you, Okay? We’ve got a long hike out of here in the morning. I’ll need your help, Sammy.”

“I can do it.” Sam nodded vigorously, then frowned. “What do I do?”

“It’s a piece of cake.” Caleb looked at Dean who rolled his eyes, but relaxed back to the ground. “Just curl up real close to Dean and think really warm thoughts.”

Josh snorted, but stepped away when the psychic shot him another warning look. “Like when I was Mercury?”

Caleb frowned, not understanding and Dean spoke up. “He played the planet… Mercury… in his school play a few weeks ago.”

“About the solar system,” Sam explained further. “It’s the planet closest to the sun. But it‘s the smallest, too-that‘s why they picked me.” The little boy frowned. “I’m the smallest in my class.”

“Okay, Tiny Einstein,” Reaves interrupted. “You curl up next to Dean and get your Mercury mojo going on.”

The five-year-old promptly did as the psychic said, snuggling against his big brother’s uninjured side, looking up at Caleb. “Like this.”

“Perfect.” Caleb then spread his leather jacket over the two of them.

“Keep it,” Dean pushed the jacket back towards Reaves. “I’ve got Mercury. We‘ll be okay.”

The psychic shook his head, pulling the coat back up around the two boys. “No, I’m good. I‘ll be moving around.”

“You’re going to freeze your ass off,” Dean muttered with a look of exasperation that reminded Caleb so much of John Winchester that he couldn’t help but to grin.

“Worried about me, cupcake? How incredibly girly of you.”

“Are you kidding?” Dean smirked. “I’m taking bets on how… many fingers you lose to frost bite-not to mention, other more valuable parts.”

Reaves rolled his eyes. “Now there’s the smart-ass I’ve grown to sort of like.”

“We love you, too.” Sam said around a yawn, much to his older brother’s embarrassment.

“Ditto, Saturn.”

“Mercury,” Sam corrected and the psychic laughed.

“Right. I forgot-smallest planet in your class.”

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