Chapter 10
Sam watched as Dean dozed on the short flight from Nevada to Wyoming. He thought his brother's neck looked better; less swollen and red. "You don't think there's any internal damage, right?"
"It seems unlikely, though I would still like to use the medical equipment at the ranch to make sure," Joshua stated. "But he was moving his neck fine if somewhat stiffly, so I doubt there's been much more than soft tissue damage."
"Good."
Joshua watched the younger man for a moment, then scanned the cabin. The three captives with gunshots wounds were lying on fold-out seats. The other three were sleeping, courtesy of one of his sleeping drafts. Still, Matt and LaKeesha sat nearby, guarding all those captured in the fight. Up ahead, Caleb was reading through emails on his laptop near where Dean was sleeping. Focusing on Sam again, he asked, "What happened?"
Sam's eyes met Joshua's, and he frowned. "You mean about the fight? We…"
"No," Joshua interrupted. "I got the gist of that already. I mean between you and Caleb."
Sam didn't even bother asking how Joshua knew. They'd all known one another for so long, it was probably obvious. "I thought we were covering it up pretty well."
"You are," Joshua said with a smile. "But I know you both."
"Yeah," Sam sighed. "You do." Briefly he explained what had happened. "I didn't mean to suggest I didn't trust him. I do, with my life."
"But not outside of hunting?"
"What?"
"Trusting someone with your life in a battle situation is different than believing that person will always have your back," Joshua explained. "Believe me, I know. I spent a lot of years not being trusted in the Brotherhood; because I often got paired on hunts with Ian and Fisher, because of Griffin Porter, because I was the son of Harlan Sawyer." Looking Sam in the eye, he said, "Because of what I let happen to Caleb years ago."
"That wasn't your fault," Sam declared.
"No, not entirely. But if I can borrow a well-worn sentiment from Dean; I was there. I should have tried to stop it; at the very least stopped it sooner. But I didn't; not until it was nearly too late. In those days I was more influenced by my father than by what was right. When I finally stood with Mac, with all of you after blowing up the cave inside The Sinks years ago, it was a terrifying and liberating day. I'd finally stepped away from my father and sided with all of you for the good of the Brotherhood. But that day was only the beginning. I had to work for years to get your brother and Caleb to trust me, to fully believe that I was on their side, that I would have their backs come what may."
Sam didn't know where this was going. He trusted Joshua, had trusted him long before Dean would let go of his grudge against him for what had happened to Caleb.
"As Caleb would say, we all have crap in our pasts. But while they may explain our actions in the present, they don't excuse them. Do you think that day at The Sinks solved much for me? I still had the desire inside to please my father, still wanted his love and support. Even to this day there is regret that he didn't love me for the person I am. He was my father."
"I get that," Sam murmured, inwardly confused about this memory lane jaunt.
"You grew up torn between wanting a normal life and the hunting life. All things normal were idealized, all things hunting condemned."
"I didn't condemn…" began Sam.
"You ran away from everything in the hunting world when you went to Stanford," Joshua pointed out. "Even your brother."
"I did want normal," Sam admitted. "But I didn't want to leave Dean."
"But you did."
"Yes, for awhile. I was angry at everything back then. But that was then," Sam declared earnestly. "I came to a peace about those days years ago. Dean and I have moved past that, established a better relationship. I love being the Scholar of the Brotherhood."
Joshua smiled. "I know. I'm just asking if you've come to a peace with everything."
And abruptly Sam saw where Joshua was going, because he'd already gone there himself. "You mean my abilities."
"You've chosen not to use them, and truthfully, I don't blame you. I don't think they're called on very often for a hunt." Joshua's eyes slid to Caleb, "Or not as often as Caleb seems to believe they are."
Sam gave a soft chuckle.
"Caleb uses his abilities like Dean uses guns," Joshua said. "Both are weapons used to fight evil. Caleb learned to use them at a young age, while you…"
"Were discouraged from using them."
Joshua nodded. "As Jim often said, your psychic abilities are neither good nor evil; they simply are. Mac, who had prodigious abilities himself, chose to train Caleb in the use of his own psychic abilities. John…"
"Dad chose to keep my abilities hidden from me," Sam stated, a hint of resentment in his tone.
"John chose to shield you from yours," Joshua amended. "Both paths were viable ones, both had their consequences."
"What were the consequences for Caleb?" Sam hissed hotly, trying to keep his voice and their conversation private.
"He was distrusted by hunters, reviled by the upper echelon of the Brotherhood."
"That was because of his parentage, not his abilities," Sam protested.
"It was because of both. Surprisingly few hunters in the field knew anything of his parentage. They distrusted Caleb on the basis of his psychic prowess. Hunters are a suspicious lot. They distrust the supernatural, and that extends to psychic abilities as well as magical ones."
"You're crafter skills," Sam said.
Joshua nodded. "That distrust was one of the reasons I kept them hidden for so long. But for Caleb, while John didn't flaunt his abilities during training and hunts, he didn't hide them either."
"Why not?"
"Because neither Mac nor Jim thought he should. They both wanted Caleb to learn how to control and use his abilities. And hunters needed to know that they could trust Caleb to have their backs, even though he was psychic. John did as they wished."
"How do you know all this?"
Joshua smiled. "I was there, remember? My father was part of the faction that attempted to overturn Jim's leadership. I had a front row seat to the workings of Porter's inner circle."
"Yeah, I know," Sam sighed. "Abilities aside, I just don't see where all this revisiting the past is going."
"All that uncertainty with your abilities, the caution with which John viewed them, finding out about them from undesirable sources, then having to learn about using them during some of the most stressful years of your life…" Joshua looked sympathetic. "I'm merely suggesting that all those circumstances combined to give you a viewpoint on psychic abilities that not only affects you, but also affects your relationship with someone of equal ability who did not experience the same restrictions in developing them."
Sam felt the mental equivalent of a clunk in his head as some of what he'd already sensed came into clear focus. While he'd had an inkling of what Joshua was saying, he realized he'd never put it together like that. Truthfully, after some of the stuff he'd done, his attitude, the way he'd treated people back then, he'd shied away from dealing with his abilities all together. "The ways I acted…"
"Were the actions of a child learning to deal with power for the first time under considerable stress and pressure," Joshua interjected.
Sam tried not to look affronted at being addressed as a child when he had been in his twenties. But then, he knew Joshua had dealt with a like situation in his own twenties: learning to stand up for what was right against such formidable forces as Griffin Porter and his own father. The only difference was Joshua had succeeded whereas he had turned and run. "I failed," he admitted. "I tried to use my abilities, but I failed. I became overbearing, superior, drunk on the power."
"You think the same wouldn't have happened to Caleb without John beating him to a pulp on every training hunt, or shamelessly using you and Dean as emotional blackmail to keep him in line? How about Mac giving out verbal smacks when Caleb used his abilities unwisely? If you think he couldn't take Caleb down a few pegs, you didn't know Mac. Then there were the steely make-your-insides-quake looks Jim used to give us all."
Sam chuckled.
Just then the plane veered downward.
"Looks like we're landing soon," Joshua said. He glanced around to where Matt and LaKeesha were sitting near the prisoners. "I'd better check on them, make sure the captives are still asleep. I believe we'll have a couple hours of driving before we reach the ranch."
Sam merely nodded, watching as Joshua made his way down the cabin aisle. Advisor; an apt name for the older man. Joshua had brought into clarity something he'd been struggling with for years. Maybe the peace he'd thought he'd achieved was more of a dodge than he'd understood. Using his abilities without becoming a megalomaniac was something he would need to figure out. Too bad his father wasn't here to drill-sergeant him around like John had Caleb. Then suddenly his eyes went to Dean, and he smiled. His true father growing up was very much alive. Looked like he might be spending more time at the farm in the future.
Caleb walked up the aisle and dropped into Joshua's seat. "Candice and Kent Wallens are meeting us at the airport to help escort the prisoners back to the ranch. We'll take three vehicles: Matt, LaKeesha and me in front with three prisoners; two walking, one wounded. Candice, Kent and you will take one walking, two wounded. Dean and Joshua will bring up the rear."
"All right." Sam's eyes slid to Dean, whose eyes were still closed. "You want to handle the interrogations while I help Dean search for another Colt journal?"
"Yeah. We already searched the house years ago. After finding the journals in the wall upstairs, we pretty much tore through all the rest of the walls looking for more. Besides, according to Bobby there was asbestos buried inside."
Sam blinked in surprise. "Is that even possible?"
"No, he just wanted to search them all," Caleb said with a smile.
"Ah," Sam nodded. After a brief pause, he confessed, "I haven't been to the ranch since we went there to rescue Riley."
"You were studying to pass the bar when Dean wanted to secure the ranch," Caleb said. "So he drafted Bobby, me, Silas, a couple other hunters to rebuild the ranch house and replace the broken protections. He wanted it to be a place hunters could go to recuperate or just spend the night if they were close."
"Where would you suggest we look?"
"There were a few outbuildings, a barn and a shack for dynamite. Once those are cleared you're looking at a ground search."
"I don't think Colt would bury a journal just anywhere on the grounds," Sam said contemplatively. "The two you found were well hidden. Dean only found them by happenstance. If this possible journal contains even more sensitive information, then I would think it would be either in the house or in one of the buildings near the house. Truth is, we don't even know if there is another journal."
"Yeah, I'd thought of that."
"If we're looking for a clue to this Devouring Darkness thing, we might be looking for a scrap of paper, a letter, or an amulet or pendant of some kind."
"You'll need to focus on everything then," Caleb said.
"Yeah."
Dean chose that moment to ask, "We landing any time soon?"
"In a couple minutes, I'd guess," Caleb said, rising and heading to the cockpit. "I'll check with Michael."
Opening his eyes, Dean shifted in his chair, swallowing with difficulty.
"Want some water?" Sam asked.
"Yeah, please," Dean murmured.
Pulling a lukewarm bottle of water from his backpack, Sam handed it over, relaying the information Caleb had told him. "So, you and I will be searching for something of Colt's while Caleb deals with the prisoners."
Dean merely nodded, saving his throat from the torture of talking.
Joshua walked up with a small vial in his hands. "Here," he said to Dean, handing over the glass cylinder. "Drink this."
Instead of asking anything about the liquid, Dean merely took it and drank it down, though not without a degree of difficulty. "Time?"
Sam glanced at his watch. "Close to six."
That meant it was almost eight in Kentucky. Dean pulled his cell from his pocket and headed for a little privacy at the front of the cabin.
A minute later Caleb walked out of the cockpit. He passed Dean holding up two fingers and headed back to Sam. "We land in two minutes. Better get strapped in. I'll let Josh know."
Sam settled back, and within ten minutes they had landed smoothly and we're climbing down the stairs onto the tarmac near three SUVs. Used to as he was the things money could buy, he was still amazed at how the travel accommodations had been handled so smoothly. "Where is your pilot staying?"
"I booked him in at the Snake River Lodge."
"Sounds expensive." Sam dropped his duffel into the rear compartment of the middle SUV. Matt and Kent Wallens were leading Olivier to the front SUV.
"He's been all over a couple states for two days," Caleb said. "He deserves to rest, for a day at least. Unless we come up with another plan, he'll be flying the innocent captives back to their homes once they've been questioned and debriefed."
"Have you talked with Onida?"
"Not yet. I'll do that before we head out." Turning, Caleb made a move to walk away. But instead, he lowered himself onto the open rear hatch of the SUV with a small, regretful sigh. Glancing up at Sam, he said, "This will be the first time Tristan and Kaven have gone to school without me there."
Sam didn't know what to say to that. "I'm sorry."
Caleb gave a deceptively casual shrug. "Was bound to happen at some point. Hunts are unexpected. Sometimes we don't get back on time."
"What about Joshua? Doesn't he usually help teach school?"
"Michael is going to fly Joshua back to Louisville early tomorrow morning. But with the time difference he won't get there until the afternoon."
Giving a slight nod, Sam said, "At least that…"
"Got the front car loaded," interrupted a twangy, sultry voice. Candice Wallens walked up, her long, curly brown hair flying around in the breeze. Tall, leggy and curvy, to Sam she looked like the Southern version of Xena Warrior Princess. "If you gentlemen could take your conversation elsewhere," she drawled, "we'd like to load this vehicle."
Sam grinned as Caleb laughed and got off the rear hatch, closing the compartment. "I'll help."
"Why, thank you kindly, Sir," Candice said, batting her eyes at Caleb.
"Hey," Ken remarked as he walked by, carrying the lower half of one of the wounded men while Dean had him under the armpits. "Quit flirting with my wife."
"She started it," defended Sam.
"Never put the blame on a lovely woman, Sam," Kent remarked, stepping back from the SUV after he'd shoved the captive's feet inside. "Even if it's their fault, it's on you."
"Noted."
"How is this my fault?" Candace cried in mock outrage.
"You're just a magnet for adoration," Kent said, moving past her and heading back to the jetliner.
Candace chuckled and followed.
"They're a pair," Sam remarked. He wondered why he'd never met the couple before. Being the Scholar of the Brotherhood, he wasn't in the field as often as Dean or Caleb, but he hunted more than most Scholars. "Where are they from?"
"Kent is from Delaware," Caleb said, leaning in the passenger door and lowering the back seat so the two unconscious prisoners could lie flat. "Blue blood family, graduated MBA in business from Goldey-Beacom."
"Wow, that's an old college," Sam whistled.
Caleb shrugged. "Candice is from Louisiana, worked on the shrimp boats with her family most of her life."
"How did they meet?"
Caleb straightened and closed the vehicle door. "Tragedy brings people together."
"Guess so," Sam murmured, watching Caleb hurry over to take over carrying one of the prisoner's feet from Candace. Just beyond them Dean appeared to be arguing with Joshua as he tossed his duffel in the rear SUV. Walking over, he heard his brother say, "There just isn't any need."
"What's going on?" Sam asked.
"Your brother," an indicator that Joshua was annoyed, "says I should fly back to Louisville tonight. Apparently I'm not needed."
"That's not what I said," Dean rasped crossly.
"Caleb's pilot will fly him back in the morning," Sam said. "Joshua can get a good night's sleep, and fly out at eight. Which means he'll land in Kentucky at eleven-ish and be home by noon."
Dean sighed and nodded. "I just thought he might want to get home tonight."
"Michael needs some rest too," Sam said. "If he…"
"All right!" Dean hissed. Turning, he stalked to Caleb's jetliner and climbed back onboard.
"He has never been a good patient," Joshua observed.
Sam burst into laughter, though he kept it down lest Dean hear. "No, he can never be accused of that. And he can't even yell about it."
"Adds insult to injury," Joshua noted, throwing Sam one of his rare grins.
"I've got to make a call before we get going," Sam said. He needed to reschedule his date with Mahira.
"Carolyn and I would love to have dinner with you and your new lady friend when you're ready," Joshua said as he walked to the jetliner.
Mouth gaping, Sam stared after the Crafter before he forcibly shoved his jaws together. Sagging back against the SUV, he realized he'd been foolish to think he could keep something like dating a fantastic woman secret from men who knew him so very well. He definitely owed Caleb a better apology.
.
A couple hours after landing, the small caravan of SUVs pulled up to the Wilmington ranch. After getting the prisoners situated in their rooms, Dean took a moment to stare out the magnificent panoramic windows Caleb had insisted on putting into the ranch's large living room years before. He had to admit, all the headache of getting those massive panes of glass in place had definitely been worth the effort. Watching the distant sun slide slowly beneath the horizon was both peaceful and relaxing.
"Robert has finished tending the gunshot wounds," Caleb said, walking up beside Dean. "He said the wounds were all well cleaned with no sign of infection. He stitched them up and administered a pain killer. We'll interview them in the morning."
Doctor Robert Anderson was a long time member of the Brotherhood, and one of the first physicians Ben had recruited into the medical network. Though most hunters already knew about Anderson, the newer hunters now had access to his skills if they were in need and in the area.
"Good."
"He's ready for you."
Dean looked over and sighed. He knew he wasn't getting out of this, though he couldn't help trying. "I'm fine."
"I know. But it'll make Sam and Josh feel better if you submit with a minimum of yelling."
Dean snorted out a laugh, turning to walk to the small medical bay. "I can't yell."
"Bonus," Caleb quipped, tossing his friend a grin.
Feeling grumpy, Dean merely stepped into the first floor room they had outfitted with medical equipment. Caleb had told him that the room used to be a parlor for entertaining, though Dean didn't know why a rancher would need a room like that. He thought it had been a dining room in its past life, like on Bonanza.
"Dean," Robert said, coming forward with his hand outstretched. "It's been too long."
"It has," Dean rasped, grasping the other man's hand in a firm grip.
"That sounds painful," Robert remarked. "Joshua told me he gave you some potions to reduce inflammation. Let's make sure no tendons have been injured and that there are no fractures."
"Is that a possibility?" Caleb asked, concerned. Damn it, he knew he should have gotten Dean to the hospital, stat.
"I can't rule it out, but it's unlikely," Robert stated, smiling. "Choking means the hands and fingers are around the throat, compressing the tendons and ligaments, pressing them in on the windpipe. To fracture the neck bones one usually needs to twist the neck. According to Sam and Joshua, that doesn't appear to have happened. However, since we're dealing with a creature of supernatural strength, I'd like to be on the safe side and do an x-ray."
"Then I'll leave you to it," Caleb said. As he headed out, he told Dean, "I'm going to check on the prisoners. I want to make sure Olivier is secure. He suspects we know he lied, so I wouldn't be surprised if he tried to run for it."
"We didn't think to install a room with bars," Dean remarked.
"I'm thinking about it now," Caleb commented, and he left the room, abandoning Dean to his fate. Climbing the stairs, he approached the rooms he'd designated for holding the prisoners. They were at the back of the large ranch house's second floor, and any attempt at escape would result in a two-story drop to the ground. It was as secure as he could make it. Maybe they needed to think about putting in a secure panic room, like Bobby had built in his South Dakota home.
"Dean all right?" Sam asked, stepping away from a woman with short, spiky blond hair.
"Docs working on it," Caleb said. "Hey, Maddy."
The woman nodded, smiling. "Hello, Caleb."
Doctor Madeline Vasquez was a psychiatrist from Washington. She had been working with the children that had been rescued from the Owl Witches two years ago. She was tiny, at five-foot-two, petite and the picture of controlled strength. Her large, dark brown eyes coupled with her blond hair spoke to her dual Yakama, Scandinavian heritage. Like Onida, one of her parents was of the tribe, while the other came from one of the nearby towns settled by Scandinavians. Growing up, she hadn't been as involved with the tribe as Onida. No, she'd definitely been a townie. However, after the children had been found and rescued, Doctor Maska Etsitty, the doctor in charge of seeing to the health and welfare of all the children, had tapped her to come in and counsel the rescuees. It was one of the most rewarding and heartbreaking things she'd ever done, and it had paved the way for her to reconnect with the Yakama People.
"How's it going in Washington?" Caleb asked.
"Good. The children are doing well; learning, adapting. They miss seeing you and Onida. When are you coming back?"
"The plan was to come after school gets out so we can stay a couple weeks, give Tristan and Kaven time with the other kids, and Onida time to work with Lomasi and Jacy. We'll see how this hunt works out. We may need to come a week later."
"As long as you come."
"How are they?" Caleb asked, jerking his chin in the direction of the second door on the left, where the non-wounded captives were locked.
"Nervous and scared, for the most part," Madeline said. "Two keep asking for someone named Nefeli…?"
"The succubus," Sam supplied.
"We didn't have time to question them all yet," Caleb added.
"Ah, that explained it," Madeline said. "The third one, Olivier; he appears to be sympathetic to the other two, though he's not joined them in their queries."
"Appears to be?" Caleb echoed.
Madeline gave a reflexive glance over her shoulder to the end room in which Olivier was locked. "He's definitely hiding something. I'll know more after I speak with them individually, but my instinct says he was a volunteer for this succubus rather than a thrall."
"That was our conclusion as well," Sam agreed.
Caleb checked his watch. "It's after eight. You want to tackle the other two tonight? I wouldn't mind getting a couple of these guys home tomorrow."
"I can do that. Have they eaten?"
"Keesh and Matt are in the kitchen putting spaghetti together," Caleb said.
"How about we take one down for a meal in the dining room," Madeline broke off. "There is a dining room, I assume?"
"There is," Caleb said with a smile.
"Though Dean has dubbed it the Breakfast room," Sam added, exchanging amused looks with Caleb.
"Excellent," Madeline said. "Let's get one down for a meal. When he comes I'll give him the potion first, say it's an antibiotic. We'll have dinner, I'll start him talking, see how we go from there."
"I'll get the table ready," Caleb said. "Sam, you can bring him down?"
Fifteen minutes later Sam walked Gabriel Smith into the dining. He was the youngest of the captives, barely twenty years of age. He looked equally frightened and determined.
"Where's Nefeli?"
Madeline rose from the table, her expression confused. "Who?"
"He knows," Gabriel jerked his head in Sam's direction.
Madeline's eyes went to Sam, her brows raised.
Playing along, Sam walked further into the room, saying, "She was the woman who told them to attack us."
"Not true!" Gabriel insisted. "You were there to attack her! We only defended ourselves!"
"How horrible," Madeline stated. "Please, come and tell me what happened. Eat something. It'll help you regain your strength." Looking to Sam, she said coldly, "We'll be fine, thank you." It was better to show Gabriel she wasn't an associate of Sam's. Hopefully it would smooth the way to his trusting her more quickly.
Sam nodded and went to the door. Before he left, he lifted an empty vial to his chest and wagged it so that Madeline could see that he'd already slipped Joshua's potion into the water glass sitting on the table.
Gabriel sat down and immediately drained his glass of water.
"Let me get you a refill," Madeline said, as she poured him another cup. "Can you tell me what happened?"
Madeline ate sparingly as she listened to Gabriel talk about Nefeli, her grace, her beauty, how he needed to protect her from the people who planned on kidnapping her. As he ate steadily, almost absentmindedly through his plate of pasta, his fork gradually slowed and his responses faltered as Joshua's potion worked its way through the young man's system. He became more and more confused, his communication faltering until finally his fork clattered onto his plate.
"Gabriel?"
The young man looked up, his mouth hanging open in shock and disbelief.
"Are you all right?" Madeline asked, hurrying to fill his water glass once more.
Eyes wide, Gabriel scanned the room. "I'm…" he looked down at his plate. "What's…" Frowning, he touched the edge of his plate with a long, slender finger. "It's … real?"
"Yes."
Slowly he looked up from his plate, his eyes dark, midnight-blue eyes full and wet. "What happened?" he asked as tears escaped down his cheeks. "I don't understand what happened."
Madeline leaned forward, striving to keep her professional demeanor at the forefront. Despite Gabriel's obvious distress, empathy wasn't what he needed right now. He needed a calm head and guidance, someone to untangle days of complete chaos. "What do you remember?"
Gabriel swallowed. Picking up his glass with a shaking hand, he took a swallow of water before saying, "I was playing the piano. At a jazz club."
"Where is this club?"
"Decorah. I'm finishing my junior year."
"At Luther!" Madeline said with a smile.
Gabriel's eyes sharpened marginally. "Yes. I got a full scholarship to study piano performance. Luther College is the best place to study music in Iowa."
"I agree," Madeline said. "A high school friend of mine went to Luther."
A small smile appeared on Gabriel's face. "Really?"
Madeline nodded. "Really."
"I grew up in Waverly, so Decorah is right next door. Luther contacted me and offered the scholarship," Gabriel relayed proudly. "I was so surprised, cause I was only a sophomore in high school when someone came to my parent's house."
"You must be very good," Madeline said. She wondered if Gabriel was aware he was crying the entire time he spoke.
"I suppose," Gabriel said. His eyes went down to his plate, as though wondering why there was food on the table.
"You said you were playing piano at a jazz club…" Madeline urged.
"The Jazz Zone. I play there twice a week to improve my improv skills. I'm a sight reader, you see. Put any piece of sheet music in front of me and I can play it. I don't do so well at improvisation. My teacher set it up for me so I could practice."
"What happened there?"
"I was playing with the band. We took a break, and usually I do homework at the bar." He smiled slightly. "The bartender makes me hot chocolate. I was working when this woman came over. She was really pretty," his eyes slid slightly out of focus. "Red hair, green eyes, cute little freckles all across her nose."
"And this was Nefeli?"
Gabriel frowned. "I'm … not sure. Nefeli didn't look like her, I don't think."
"What happened to the girl, then?"
"I don't know. She wanted me to take her home. I said I had another set … but then I found myself walking down the street with her. I told her I needed to go back, but she said she had chosen me to protect her." More tears rolled down his face. "I've never been chosen before."
"Who told you that?" Madeline asked gently.
"She did."
"You were chosen for Luther," Madeline reminded him.
Gabriel's eyes locked on Madeline's. "Luther?"
"Remember? You were a sophomore in high school and Luther came calling. They chose you."
"Oh. Yeah, they did."
"And your teacher chose to let you play at the club to improve your skills."
"Yes…"
"Sounds like you've been chosen a lot. Why was this time important?"
"I don't know," Gabriel cried. Shoving his plate away, he lay his head down on the table and began to cry in earnest. "What happened? What am I going to do?"
Finally it was time, and Madeline rose and walked around the table. Sitting down beside Gabriel, she waited until he turned into her arms and continued sobbing into her shoulder. Reaching up, she ran her hand over his dark-haired head, saying, "I'm going to tell you exactly what happened, all right? You're going to understand everything. Then, we're going to call your parents to take you home."
Gabriel's head shook. "I've … lost everything."
Madeline leaned back and forced Gabriel's red-rimmed, wet eyes to meet hers. "You haven't lost everything. This was a terrible thing that happened to you, and I'm going to help you understand it, all right? And then I'm going to call your parents, and I'll call Luther and explain what happened. It'll be hard, but you will be able to go back to your life, with some help."
"Help, from you?"
"From me at first, then from a very good friend of mine. Remember that friend I told you went to Luther?" When Gabriel nodded, she said, "She lives and works in Decorah now, and she'll help."
Sniffing softly, Gabriel pushed back and nodded. "Okay," he whispered.
After giving him a gentle pat on the shoulder, Madeline rose and fetched the box of tissue she had sitting on the dining room sideboard. Putting it down beside Gabriel, she said, "I'm going to heat up our meals, all right? Then I'm going to tell you everything. Can you handle that?"
Gabriel blew his nose. Nodding slowly, he said, "I hope so."
"I know so," Madeline stated. "For a young man who got recruited for a full scholarship to Luther at sixteen? I know you can do anything."
Gabriel gave her a wobbly smile. "Fifteen. I graduated a year early."
.
Two and a half hours later Madeline opened the door from the dining room and stepped out. Caleb, Dean and Sam were all sitting nearby, having obviously been listening to the entire conversation.
"Is there a room down on the first floor where Gabriel can sleep?"
Sam nodded. "I set one up an hour ago."
"How's he doing?" Dean asked.
Brows lifted at the raspy tone, Madeline said, "Better. He's still somewhat confused, doesn't understand how this could have happened. In his head he understands Nefeli was a succubus, but I don't think he really believes those exist. He's inside talking to his mom right now. It's pretty emotional. He's been listed as missing for the last two weeks."
"Nefeli again," Caleb said, looking at Dean. "The woman you met said her name was Asuka."
"Joshua said nefeli was likely a nom de plume, a name she gave to her captives," Sam said.
"Asuka is her real name," Dean said quietly. She had set up everything to meet him, had been interested in making a deal. But he got the sense all her posturing for safe passage was just that; a ruse.
"Can they all get counseling?" Sam asked.
"That would be advisable." Looking straight to Dean, Madeline said, "I want to bring in my friend."
"Is she in Ben's network?"
"No, she isn't."
"But she knows about the supernatural."
"She will when I tell her," Madeline declared.
Dean's eyes narrowed. "It's not up to you to introduce people to the Brotherhood. Learning about what's out there, it opens you and us up to scrutiny. What if she thinks we're all loony, that you're loony? What happens to your practice, to all the children in Washington who are relying on your help and counsel? What happens to Gabriel when she convinces him you were lying all along?"
"She won't do that!" Madeline defended.
"And you know that, how?" Dean demanded, rising and struggling to control his anger. He was more exhausted than he'd realized. "Because learning that succubi, werewolves, witches, ghosts, ghouls and every other creepy thing imaginable are real is so easy to believe? Adults leave the boogeyman in their childhoods until something horrible happens. Only then, do they believe."
Madeline stared at Dean, her expression fiery and set. "You don't know my friend!"
Sam started to intervene, but Caleb shook his head. Madeline had been wrong to suggest bringing someone into Brotherhood business without checking with the Guardian first, and Dean had every right to dress her down for it.
"Do you?" Dean countered. "How long has it been since you've spoken with her on any level other than surface or shop? Do you know her?"
Suddenly unsure of herself, Madeline felt all the hot air of indignation whoosh out of her, and she dropped into a nearby chair. "You're right, and I'm sorry. All I was thinking about was helping him cope. It was unwise to bring up my friend. But she is an alumnus of Luther, and that's a connection he needed. He feels lost and adrift. He needed to be able to latch onto something he understood."
"That wasn't your call to make," Dean stated.
"No, it wasn't," Madeline conceded.
"What's her name?"
Madeline swallowed, then said, "Doctor Robin Holst. She works at Counseling and Family Centered Services in New Hampton."
Giving Madeline a sharp nod, Dean turned and walked stiffly down the short hallway and stepped inside the dark, spacious living room, a room where he found solace in the open country that lay just outside the panoramic windows. Standing just inside the doorway, he forced his hands to unclench and his shoulders to loosen before moving slowly over to Caleb's glass wall. Staring outside, he thought through the situation. Madeline had put him in an untenable position. While he needed to consider Gabriel - the youth's frame of mind and his welfare - he also needed to protect the Brotherhood and all its members; protect the people who gave their lives to safeguard others in secret. Then there was Madeline and her future. Telling her friend could have ended her career, didn't she understand that? When normal people were confronted with the truth that creatures of horror existed out there, they often viewed the revealer as crazy. He remembered Victor Henriksen, the FBI agent who had chased them for years, believing they were mass murdering psychopaths. Then he was confronted with the supernatural and became a believer. Madeline had no idea what could have happened to her if she'd chosen to confide in her friend, and that friend figured she'd had a mental break.
Feeling his anger slid away, he considered her role in Ben's network. If she could so easily consider telling her friend, would she tell others? To date, she'd been an outstanding asset, invaluable in helping the children of Washington cope with their kidnapping and recovery. But this instance of indiscretion had stamped a Caution over her name. One mistake could be deadly, yes, but people were human: they made mistakes. And he'd certainly made his fair share through the years.
Sighing, he pulled his cell from his pocket and he hit one of his speed dial numbers. A minute later, Ben answered.
"Dad? Are you all right?"
"I'm fine," Dean said.
"You don't sound fine," Ben responded anxiously.
"I am," Dean said with a smile. "Got a sore throat, but Doctor Anderson looked it over and gave me some antibiotics and lozenges."
"Oh, okay. What's up? We just got home a couple hours ago. I wish we could have seen you more this weekend."
"Move closer to the farm and we'll see each other more," Dean delivered his age-old reply.
Ben laughed.
"I need your help with something," Dean said, and he explained what happened with Madeline and her session with Gabriel.
"She what?" Ben exclaimed, outraged. "She's been in the network eleven years; she knows better!"
"We make mistakes," Dean commented. "Now, I need you to look into her friend, check her out and her reputation. If we've got anyone already in the network who knows her, I want a complete rundown."
"Why can't we just assign someone else in the area?"
"It's a tough situation." Dean told Ben about the succubus and her kidnapping of Gabriel Smith.
Ben sighed. "She lost herself."
"Yeah, she did," Dean agreed. "Is there anyone else nearby who can help us here?"
"No," said a female voice from behind Dean.
Having sensed only Sam's presence, Dean whipped around to see Sam and Madeline standing just inside the living room door. Gritting his teeth at her intrusion, he growled to Ben, "Let me call you back."
"Right," Ben said immediately and hung up, glad he wasn't on the receiving end of whatever his dad was about to unleash.
Turning slowly to fully face the pair, Dean focused his undivided attention on Madeline. The waning anger from earlier surged back in full force. Taking a moment to get the emotion under control, he finally said darkly, "What?"
Madeline had never seen the Guardian of the Brotherhood actually angry before. She felt like her very bones were melting inside. "I…" Breaking off, she swallowed the saliva that had pooled in her mouth. "I said no, please don't call in anyone else."
Voice measured and cold, Dean asked, "What makes you think you have any say in this whatsoever?"
Madeline swallowed again. "I don't; have a say, I mean. But may I point out that Gabriel needs me here. He's connected with me. It would be detrimental to bring in someone else."
"Like you suggested we do?"
"That was a mistake," Madeline rushed to say. "I'm sorry. As professionals we refer people to those in a better position to help all the time. The Luther College connection jumped out at me and the lines between this job and my professional life blurred. I suggested the connection before I had time to think better of it." Taking a step forward, she said, "I don't usually make mistakes. I'm too measured and controlled in my ways. But when I do, it's usually a doozy. I am so sorry."
Dean didn't speak immediately. Madeline had gone way outside her field of authority. If he didn't make it a point of reckoning, she would do it again. "I'm having Ben check out your friend. He'll bring in other network professionals to check her out discretely. We'll go from there." Turning his back on her, he returned his gaze to the horizon beyond the window.
"Thank you," Madeline whispered. She waited for a minute, and when Dean didn't go on, she asked, "Am I staying?"
"I will let you know," Dean stated, his rasping tone measured and cool.
Walking away from the commanding figure, Madeline thought if she hadn't been so dedicated to her work, she would have run from the ranch and never looked back. But the work she'd done for the Brotherhood was some of the most rewarding of her career. She didn't think she could go back now, even if she wanted to.
"Caleb took Gabriel to his bedroom and he fell directly to sleep," Sam shared with the doctor, noting her shaken appearance. Dean had surprised him with being so angry. His brother accepted the world and people as he saw them, rarely letting them stir him to anger. Tonight appeared to be the exception. "Caleb talked with his father for a couple minutes. They'll be waiting for him at the airport tomorrow."
Madeline felt her knees give way and she dropped into a nearby chair.
Sam sat down quickly beside her. "Are you all right?"
"Your brother is the scariest thing I've ever seen."
"Didn't you have a close encounter with a Wendigo?" Sam asked, amused.
Letting out a small measure of nervous laughter, Madeline nodded. "Hiking with my friends after our college graduation. I lost one, and the other has…" she broke off, shaking her head. "Let's just say she doesn't do well with nature, people, animals or most things anymore."
"What does she do?"
"Stays in her house. She's a computer expert, so she can work from home. I visit her there as often as I'm able."
Sam merely nodded.
Eventually Madeline turned to look Sam in the face. "I am sorry. I let myself get caught up in the moment and forgot where I was." Sighing, she said, "Maybe I'm taking all this too much for granted. I'm a very good psychiatrist, an even better therapist. I feel gratified and flattered that the Brotherhood calls on my expertise." Eyes going tearful, she confessed, "I really stepped in it tonight."
"You did," Sam agreed. There was no point in useless disclaimers. "But if Dean was done with you, you'd be on the next flight home tonight. That you're still here means his confidence in your abilities has outweighed his anger. And the fact that he called Ben and has a team on checking out your friend is a very good sign."
"Thank you," Madeline murmured.
"Dean knows people, and he knows people make mistakes. He's one of the most forgiving people I've ever known, and I'm not saying that because he's my brother. I've tested his patience in more ways than I could ever explain and he's forgiven me time and time again." Seeing Madeline's curious expression, he merely pressed on. "He's one of the most tolerant and loyal people around. You're going to be fine."
"He was so angry."
"I didn't say he wouldn't be angry," Sam said with a smile. "I said he was forgiving."
Madeline let out a little chuckle. "Okay."
"Come on. I'll escort you to your room. I think there's been enough counseling tonight."
.
Caleb stepped into the darkened living room and watched his friend stare out the window. He was glad he'd insisted on the massive, panoramic windows despite Dean's and Bobby's protestations. They made the room, and right now the view was offering his friend a few moments of calm. It was rare to see Dean as angry as he had been tonight.
"Where is she?"
"Madeline?" Caleb took a few more steps inside. "Sam is showing her to a room. I think she can still walk after you scared her to death." He dropped into one of the comfortable lounge chairs.
Dean didn't say anything.
Taking in his friend's stiff shoulders and rod iron stance, he said, "So was that the plan? Scare her to death?"
"Maybe," came Dean's soft reply.
"Me thinks she has viewed her position here too highly."
"She has," Dean murmured.
Caleb frowned. "What?"
Finally allowing himself to relax, Dean turned around and walked slowly over to where Caleb sat. After taking a seat, he said, "We're all the Brotherhood, not one more valuable than the other. That's Griffin Porter ideology all over again. Each member of the Brotherhood is important, invaluable and replaceable."
"Replaceable?"
"Replaceable," Dean repeated. "We've existed through the centuries because we live and die and live on." Shaking his head, he continued, "It's when we think we're the most valuable, the strongest, the greatest, the best or the smartest, that we fail."
Caleb had never really thought of the Brotherhood like that, but he supposed it was true on some level. But he would disagree that there was anyone else like Dean. There would be other Guardians, excellent Guardians who would take the Brotherhood into the future. But there would never be another Dean Winchester.
Unaware of what Caleb was thinking, Dean went on, "Madeline thought she was the best the Brotherhood had to offer, and that her insights trumped our code. If she'd brought in her friend and that friend couldn't handle the truth of what is out there, she could have seriously jeopardized the future of the Brotherhood, and Madeline's career could have been over. People that haven't personally encountered the supernatural rarely understand or believe in it."
"So she needed to understand that."
"Yes," Dean murmured.
At the door, Sam said, "You really scared her."
Dean didn't need to be psychic to know when Sam was around. He'd known the moment his brother had entered the room and joined the conversation. He could hear the condemnation in his voice. "I know," he rasped, pushing himself to his feet. He really wasn't up to another round with Sam. "I'm going to bed."
"You need to eat something," Sam reminded him. "Doctor's orders."
"Maybe tomorrow," Dean murmured, walking from the room.
Sam looked at Caleb. "He hasn't eaten anything since yesterday before we flew here."
"What do you want me to do, Sam? Spoon feed him?"
Crawling from his chair, Caleb yawned and started to their bedrooms, Sam on his heels ready to dig in and argue his point.
"Food gives our body's fuel and strength. He's going to need that."
"I know." Stopping outside the door to Sam's bedroom, Caleb sighed. "All right, how about we make a big breakfast: eggs, bacon, sausage, toast, the works."
"I guess so." Sam opened the door and stepped fully inside his room before he turned to face Caleb. Eyeing the older man a second, he abruptly declared, "You're cooking," and shut the door in Caleb's face.
Standing in the hall, the door in his face, Caleb muttered, "Brat."
On the other side, Sam smiled. He'd been forgiven.
.
Dean rolled over and stretched. A look at the clock revealed it was nearly nine in the morning. Surprised, he pushed himself up. Most days he was up by six. Add to that a lifetime of having someone else in the room as he slept - first Sam, often add in his father, and now Juliet - it was a feat that he'd managed a good night's rest. Yawning, he stood and stretched his arms over his head. Moving into the bathroom, he lifted his chin and took a good look at his throat. The swelling had gone down, and it didn't feel as raw, thanks for the ministrations of Joshua and Doctor Anderson. But the mottled bruising didn't make for the prettiest of pictures.
Suddenly he sniffed, becoming aware of the delicious aroma of bacon and coffee, and his stomach rumbled. Breakfast. He definitely needed some of that! Shower, coffee, then food.
When he walked into the dining room some twenty minutes later, Dean made a beeline for the coffee pot sitting on the sideboard.
Sam looked up from his plate. "Morning."
"Ugh," Dean grunted.
Shaking his head, Sam merely continued eating as he read through some information on succubi from his tablet. It wasn't until after Dean had finished his first caffeine infusion, refilled the mug and piled his plate high with food that he said, "Joshua's gone."
"Hmmm?" Dean couldn't speak, as he'd just taken a bite of eggs and bacon.
"Caleb drove him to Jackson Hole so Michael Foster could fly him back to Louisville." Pointing to the row of small bottles in the middle of the table, Sam continued, "Those are to help with your throat. You're to take one every two hours until all the vials are gone."
Dean eyed the vials of faintly pink liquid, and said, "You sure those aren't succubus potion?"
"No," Sam said, smiling. "Those are in the library."
Dean merely nodded as he continued to plow his way through breakfast.
There was another piece of news Sam knew would make Dean unhappy, but he decided to wait on delivering that one until his brother had eaten more breakfast. "Matt and LaKeesha went into town with Caleb. They wanted to replenish their supplies so they were ready for their next hunt. Candace and Kent are upstairs watching the captives." Sam took another sip of his coffee. "Olivier has been asking about what happened to Gabriel, why he wasn't brought back to their room, and he wants to go home. We need to figure out what we're going to do with him until the succubus is dealt with. Oh, and Robert wants to check out your throat again."
Dean glanced up. "It's fine."
"He's a doctor," was all Sam said.
Rolling his eyes, Dean went back to his meal. "Anything else on the laundry list?"
Sam eyed his brother's plate and noted he'd nearly finished clearing it, so he dropped the last bomb. "Madeline flew to Iowa with Gabriel."
Dean's fork froze in midair over his plate. Looking up slowly, he growled, "You did that on purpose."
"Damn right I did," Sam declared. "You haven't eaten anything since before we flew to Yosemite. Once you heard, I knew you'd be too angry to eat."
Growling, Dean tossed his fork onto the table and shoved back his chair. "What happened?"
"Gabriel was a mess. She didn't think he was stable enough to go back to his family on his own. She wanted to ask your permission, but you hadn't slept in so long I didn't want to wake you. So I told her she could go."
Dean nodded, but didn't speak. He was angry and irritated. They'd brought Madeline here to debrief all the captives, not just one. To have her fly away leaving the other five was inconvenient in the extreme, and he was angry that Sam had given her permission to go. But they were a team; he, Caleb and Sam. And Sam had read the situation and decided on a course of action. He needed to respect that. "All right. Tell Doctor Vasquez she has the choice to stay and work with Gabriel for a few days in Decorah at the Brotherhood's expense, or Michael will fly her back to Washington."
"What?" Sam had noted that Doctor Vasquez was no longer Maddy or even Madeline, and acknowledged that he'd had a hand in burning that bridge. But truthfully, he didn't think the situation could have gone any other way.
"We'll let her know who will be handling Gabriel's case in the future. Call Ben, ask him if our network has anyone in the area who also went to college at Luther. It's a pretty big deal, so I imagine there will be. That should be enough of a connection for Gabriel and his family. If he was told, he won't remember Doctor Holst's name anyway.
"You don't want Madeline to finish the job here?"
"She made her choice," Dean stated, anger lacing his raspy voice. "And I understand it. Gabriel's a traumatized kid. Her doctor and maternal instincts told her she needed to go with him to Iowa. I get that. But we brought her here to analyze six people. She engaged with one." He got to his feet and started for the door.
"Dean, she's a great psychiatrist."
"I never said she wasn't," Dean replied softly as the anger leeched from his body.
"Then why not bring her back, let her finish the job?"
"Because we've got a succubus out there thralling people right now. Because I'm pretty sure Asuka is working for someone bigger and badder, and we haven't got a clue as to who that is. Because we've got four other captives just waiting here, their nerves on edge, also traumatized, also afraid for their lives. They're important too, Sam." Under his breath, he muttered again, "They're important too." Looking back to his brother, he continued, "And because we've got a captive who might know something about where Asuka and her boss are going and what their plans are. We needed that information."
Sam sighed. "I know."
"Caleb can take on the interrogations with LaKeesha when they get back. Keesh has got a light touch, they'll warm to her. All doctors have some psychiatric training, so Robert can supervise and advice."
"And Madeline?"
"She doesn't go into the field," Dean said wearily. "She's not cut out for it. She's a valuable asset to any Brotherhood member that needs to talk, any victim in her vicinity that needs counseling. She can still work with the children on the Yakama reservation, but she doesn't get called out into the field again."
Before Dean walked out the door, Sam asked softly, "Are you ever going to forgive her?"
"There's nothing to forgive," Dean replied sincerely. "She did what she thought was best. Can't fault her there. But there was a bigger picture she couldn't see, and that's my problem."
.
It was after twelve when Caleb, LaKeesha and Matt returned to the ranch. After putting away some food supplies, Caleb stood with his hands on his hips listening as Sam told him everything that had happened with Dean. He'd known the crap would hit the fan when he'd taken Madeline into town with Gabriel. But Sam had already heard her out and told her she could go and he wasn't about to undermine Sam in front of her. "Where's Dean now?"
"Scouting the buildings around the house for a clue as to where another Colt journal might be. He sent an email to Riley asking for his thoughts on where to search."
"Riley knows Colt better than anyone," Caleb said.
"Yup. The Wild West Triad has been an obsession of his for years. He's probably teaching class now, but he'll respond as soon as he's free."
"All right," Caleb said. "If I'm going to do the interviews, I say let's get it done. Where's Doctor Anderson?"
"Checking on the wounded."
Eyeing his watch, Caleb said, "Michael should have already landed in Louisville to drop off Joshua. He'll need to wait another hour for a free runway before he can fly on to La Crosse Municipal Airport. Madeline will meet Gabriel's parents there."
Sam didn't make any comment.
"Michael won't get back before six tonight. Depending on how the interviews go, we may take a couple of the captives home tonight, or everyone can go tomorrow. Has Dean decided on what to do with Olivier?"
"Not that I know of."
Giving Sam a sidelong look, Caleb asked, "Do you want to call Madeline and give her the options, or should I?"
Sam wasn't looking forward to the conversation, but said, "I will."
Caleb nodded, his expression sympathetic. "All right, then I'll get Robert and Keesh, we'll set up a room for interrogations and get started."
As Caleb walked away, Sam pulled out his phone. He was about to have a very uncomfortable and regrettable conversation, and he wasn't looking forward to it. Suddenly he had a thought. Instead of dialing Madeline straight away, he scrolled through his contacts list and called Doctor Maska Etsitty. If anyone knew how best to handle the situation, it was her.
.
Dean walked through the large barn. Several stalls lined the sides along with an office area and a small tack room. Inside were still a couple of bridles, several horseshoes, a stray stirrup, and a few bits that had once held straps. He wondered if Daniel Wilmington had ever worked the ranch, or whether he'd hired ranch hands and a foreman to work the place in his stead. The ranch was large, and there were a lot of places to search. Just the thought made him tired. When he, Bobby and Caleb had searched the house years ago, they'd had days to do that. Now, time wasn't on their side. If this Devouring Darkness was coming, they needed to be prepared, and he hadn't the vaguest idea of how to do that. Talk about being in complete and total darkness.
He'd already walked through the blacksmith station, the tool shed, an explosives hut that he skirted carefully, and the newest building - the garage, where the tractors and trucks would have been stored in later years. He hoped Riley had some insight into where Colt may have hidden another journal…
Suddenly Dean smacked his head with his palm. This was the Wilmington Ranch. According to the journals found here, Samuel had only spent a couple months here following Daniel and Cole's deaths. From the address on the letter, he could surmise Samuel had moved to California following the establishment of the new Triad. If the Devouring Darkness was before their deaths, then Daniel himself may have hidden a journal or clue, disguising it like he had at The Sinks. He needed to search for the Triad symbol, and after the hunt in Washington, he had even more experience with using the silver as a diversionary devise to hide something important. Time to search with new eyes.
Kentucky
In the Tomb, JT was staring at his computer screen, his mouth open slightly in surprise. He'd been contacted about a new job, and it was a doozy. Billie Weiss, long time photographer for the Boston Red Sox, had thought it would be interesting for a former two-time World Champion Sox Player to shoot the current team roster of players for their team baseball cards. What an offer.
When he'd left the Sox years before, JT had put that chapter of his life in the past. He'd loved playing ball, had loved playing for the Sox. But after Sydney's death, he needed a change in his life. Devoting himself to his photography and to the Brotherhood had been that change, and he'd never looked back. Now the past was colliding with the present, and he wasn't sure what to do about that.
Max strolled into the Tomb carrying a couple cups of coffee. "James has already gone, and Ryker is teaching. I'm flying back to New York at eleven. I've got a group coming in to the restaurant tonight…" he broke off when he caught sight of JT's face. "What's up? Something happen?"
JT looked up slowly. "Billie Weiss wants me to photograph the players for their baseball cards."
"Billie Weiss?"
"Senior Manager of Photography for the Red Sox."
"Seriously?" Max exclaimed. Rushing forward, he yanked JT's computer around so he could read the email. "Excellent! When do you leave?" When JT didn't reply, Max looked up and asked, "Do you want to go?"
"I don't know," JT said. "I left that life behind. I'm happy with being a freelance photojournalist and working for the Brotherhood. I'm not sure I want to go back there just yet."
Moving around the table, Max sat down across from his friend. "It's a job like all your other jobs. You loved playing for the Sox. Maybe this is the opportunity for you so go back one more time before that door closes forever."
"That door was closed forever," JT said. "It closed when Sydney was killed; it closed when I chose the Brotherhood over the Sox. Going back…" he broke off.
"May be like opening a wound?" Max said gently.
JT gave his friend a smile. "Maybe. I did love playing for the Sox. It's a bright memory for me. But the here and right now is also good. I love working for the Brotherhood, like that being a freelance photojournalist gives me the freedom to hunt."
"This Weiss guy isn't asking you to become a full time photographer for the Sox, is he? Isn't this just another freelance job?"
"Not something like this," JT said. "This is Weiss putting out a feeler for his replacement."
Max's mouth dropped open.
"Weiss has been with the Sox for over thirty years. His studio business has always been great, and he recently opened a new studio in Hollywood. I don't think he's retiring this year, but I think he's looking at photographers for his replacement when the time comes."
"Man. It's pretty flattering that he settled on you."
JT smiled. "We don't know who else he's brought in over the past couple years, or how many he looked at before offering me this gig."
"If he has a list, I'm thinking you're on the short one."
"Maybe," JT said softly.
Max watched his best friend for a moment, then glanced down at his watch. "I've got to leave if I want to catch my plane. Do you want me to stay?"
"No," JT said promptly. "Go. I'm going to do a little more research then I'll head home too."
"We've looked through every book here," Max said. "There isn't anything about a creature that is both corporeal and incorporeal."
"I haven't heard back from Doctor Issa yet."
"Who?"
"Doctor Fadi Issa from the University of Jordan." When Max continued to look blank, JT chuckled. "He's the guy Elijah Matthews recommended we talk to."
"Oh yeah." Giving JT a sheepish grin, Max said, "I forgot."
"Really," JT quipped sarcastically.
Max grinned as he got to his feet. "I'm heading out. I can get free midweek, maybe Wednesday or Thursday, come back and help out, unless you're in Boston."
"Thanks," JT said, not acknowledging the Boston comment.
Max waved and headed out.
JT picked up the coffee Max had brought in and took a sip. During their comversation the liquid had cooled considerably. While he didn't hate cold coffee, he was in the mood for the comfort of a hot cup. Rising, he headed for the kitchen.
Lifting the coffee pot, he poured a fresh cup as he surveyed the kitchen. It was strange, how the kitchen felt like home, and yet didn't. He'd grown up here, had numerous meals at this table surrounded by his parents, Ben and James. Being here was like pulling on an old sweater from high school; familiar, but it didn't fit quite the same anymore. The feeling of home was now in a sprawling house on a North Carolina beach.
The front door opened and Juliet walked inside. Looking up, she saw JT and smiled. "Getting some coffee?"
JT lifted the mug in acknowledgement. "How's Clarissa?"
"She's good. Onida is staying at the school today because Caleb is still in Wyoming. Tristan and Kaven are not happy about that, but they're dealing." Grabbing herself another mug, she asked, "You staying for awhile?"
"Just through today," JT said, sitting at the well-worn kitchen table. "I'm expecting an email to set up a conference call, and I might need the books."
"Your piece on the Blues Festival comes out this week, right?"
JT nodded. "I'll send you a copy of the magazine."
"I'll have already bought it," Juliet said with a smile. Watching her son for a moment, she asked, "What's wrong?"
JT looked up. He was about to ask how she knew something was wrong, but he already had the answer: she was mom. "We don't talk hunting at the table."
Laughing, Juliet said, "This one time I'll give you a pass. What's up?"
Taking a slow sip from his mug to give him a moment, he said, "I saw something when I was helping out a friend a couple days ago."
"You're friend from Louisiana."
"Yeah. When I was helping save his father, I saw something out there I've never seen before." JT gave her a sketchy outline of what happened when he saw the figure on the trail. Shaking his head in frustration, he said, "I've looked through every book we have and can't find anything about it. And now everyone is thinking I didn't see it at all."
"Everyone?" Juliet asked.
"All right, James, Ryker, even Max."
"Max? I don't believe that for a moment."
"Okay, James and Ryker," JT said with some exasperation.
"What about your father?"
"Dad? He's doing something else."
"What did he say when you told him about this thing?"
"To find it."
"Sounds like he believes in you."
"I know," JT sighed. "I guess I'm just frustrated."
Juliet watched her son a moment, before saying, "When I'm working with a patient and can't figure out what's going on, sometimes the sheer amount of data can be confusing."
"In this case, there isn't any data."
"Don't interrupt," Juliet said automatically, tossing her son a smile. "In those cases, I put all the data aside and go back to the beginning, to the simplest symptoms and rebuild from there."
"There isn't any data," JT repeated.
"But there is," Juliet said. "There's what you saw, what you smelled, what you observed. How did the thing move, how did it bend, how did it lift the girl. Start at the beginning, and you'll be able to get to the end."
JT smiled. "Thanks."
"Anytime," Juliet said, rising. "Now, I've got to put in an appearance at the clinic. Be here when Clarissa and I get back from school."
"Yes, Mom," JT said. When he was alone once more in the kitchen, he refilled his mug again, grabbed a biscuit and headed back to the Tomb. He had a lot of work to do.
Wyoming
Caleb dropped onto one of the sofas in the living room, his head lolling against the high back. "This, has got to be one of the longest afternoons ever."
"Ditto that," LaKeesha groaned, falling into a high-backed chair.
"I wasn't even in there doing the interrogations, and I'm tired for you," Matt stated, putting down a glass of water for both Caleb and LaKeesha.
"Thanks," Caleb said, leaning quickly forward and draining the glass of its contents.
"Where's Doctor Anderson?" Matt asked.
"Still in with the wounded," LaKeesha murmured, her eyes closed. "They're more a mess emotionally than physically."
"Speaking of physically," Matt said, "How's this all going to play out? I mean, we shot them. How are we going to explain that?"
"They don't really know what happened," LaKeesha pointed out.
"Exactly."
Matt and LaKeesha looked up as Doctor Robert Anderson came into the living room and sagged onto the couch.
"I'll get some more water," Matt said as he rose and walked out.
"These poor souls are so confused; they don't know what happened over the last few days." Anderson reached for LaKeesha's water, and at her nod, drained it. "Ah," he said, replacing her empty glass on the table. "Martin, the youth with the shoulder wound. I'm thinking of taking him back to my clinic. His wound is the most delicate, and he's from Harrison, Nebraska which is close to the Wyoming border. My clinic is right near there."
"You find out more about who he is?" Caleb asked.
Robert nodded. "He's twenty-nine; an accountant with RLK, LLC. His parents died when he was seventeen, but he has an older sister." Anderson's eyes went to his empty water glass, and he sighed before continuing. "She reported him missing, as did his current girlfriend. I thought I could bring the sister to my clinic, explain what happened."
"Tell an outsider that her brother was kidnapped by a succubus," Caleb said, shaking his head.
"This is not like Madeline Vasquez's suggestion of telling a colleague about the supernatural. This is telling a family member about what happened to her brother, and only one family member at that. She will be directly involved in his recuperation and recovery."
Matt returned carrying a couple more glasses of water and a full pitcher for replenishing. Seeing Robert Anderson's glass was empty, he refilled it before handing another glass to LaKeesha.
"Families are intricately involved when one of their own is wounded," Anderson continued. "Bringing in his sister isn't violating the Brotherhood code."
"Setting that discussion aside for the moment, we've got one more captive to interview, and Olivier to deal with," Caleb said.
"Have you interrogated him yet?" Matt asked.
"No," Caleb replied. "I just told him we were trying to get the details of everyone else before we took them all home. He looked pretty pleased with that."
"I say we turn everyone except Olivier and Nebraska guy…"
"Martin," Robert said.
"Martin," Matt said, "over to the cleaners. They know what they're doing when they hand survivors over to the police or the hospitals."
"Good call," Caleb sighed, who had already intended to do just that. Pushing himself with some difficulty out of the soft and heavily cushioned sofa, he said, "I'm going to find Dean and Sam, see how their search is going. We'll finish when I get back."
"We're staying in here where it's cool and not hot," LaKeesha said, all without opening her eyes.
.
Sam leaned against a tree and wiped the sweat from his face with his tee-shirt. He wanted some water, but didn't feel like going inside to get it. Searching around, he saw a water spigot nearby, and went over to turn it on. Nothing happened save for some cracking and popping of pipes before reddish rusty water gushed out. "Yuk," he murmured, waiting until the water ran clear before taking a tentative sip. Cool and clean, Sam smiled. After washing the grime off his hands, he cupped them and brought some water to his lips and drank. Colder than a creek in winter, the liquid felt more refreshing than a glass of tap water.
Abruptly he was reminded of the survival trainings his father used to inflict upon him and Dean. They would traipse through a wilderness area with only a thermal blanket, an empty canteen, a couple of matches and a knife. How he had hated the couple he'd been on. When he reached high school, he'd blackmailed his father into leaving him home because of homework. Of course, he hadn't thought of Dean during those times. Dean, and sometimes Caleb too, were still forced to go. A couple times Dean had pointed out that he had homework too, but John hadn't listened. Finally, Dean hadn't bothered to bring it up anymore. He'd simply gone. Sam could still remember his brother, exhausted and bone-tired, staying up all night in order to finish what he could of his homework before school Monday morning.
Suddenly, he wasn't thirsty anymore.
"Sam!"
Sam turned and searched for the direction of his brother's voice. Considering the call wasn't all that loud, he had a hard time pinpointing Dean's direction.
"Sam!"
"Where are you?!"
"Oh! Behind the dynamite shed."
"What?" Sam exclaimed, running in that direction. "You were supposed to tell me when you decided to search here," he yelled, knowing the danger his brother had been in from the remains of dynamite powder.
"Look," Dean said, grinning and pointing to a small Triad symbol on the back wall.
"Hey…" Sam said, getting on his knees and leaning in to examine the small Triad symbol that had been carved into the wooden wall of the shack.
"You're probably kneeling in TNT, you know," Dean smirked.
Ignoring the barb, Sam squinted at the small emblem. "How did you see this?"
"I was crawling around in TNT too," Dean said, earning a bitch face from his brother, who was ironically doing the same thing. "I thought, what building would people stay away from, and that would be the shed carrying explosives. So I searched the inside," he coughed dramatically, "then searched the outside. That's when I saw this."
"And you've become a walking dynamite stick."
"Ha," Dean griped. "Anyway, thought you'd want to be here for the honors."
"Thanks." Sam grinned at his brother. "Do I say ta-da or anything?"
Rolling his eyes, Dean leaned forward and placed a finger on the symbol. Within seconds a small patch of wood, four inches by six, melted away into water.
"Be careful," Sam murmured. "That hole has been there a long time. There might be snakes nesting inside."
"Great," Dean uttered. Looking around, he snagged a twig from nearby and poked it gently into the hole. "All right, here goes." Carefully he reached into the hole. After feeling around a moment, he pulled out a small box.
"What's inside?" Sam asked eagerly.
"Am I psychic, or something?" Dean retorted.
"If you were, you'd have sensed me," Caleb said, walking up behind the brothers. "Are both members of my Triad playing in trinitrotoluene?"
Sam squinted up at Caleb. "Huh?"
"TNT," Caleb and Dean said at the same time.
"And we aren't playing," Dean remarked loftily.
Sam snorted out a laugh.
"Again, why are you kneeling in it?" Caleb asked.
Instead of a reply, Dean merely lifted the small box.
"Oh." Squatting down, Caleb peered at the box.
"Dean found a Triad symbol, melted it and the box was inside that hole," Sam said, pointing to the small opening in the wood.
"What is it?" Caleb asked curiously.
"And we're back to I'm not psychic," Dean growled. Examining the box, he gingerly touched the keyhole, and it melted away. Grinning over at Sam and Caleb, he lifted the lid and they all looked inside. A small, folded piece of faded and yellowing paper lay within, along with a small bit of metal poking out from under it. "That a key?"
"Maybe, but don't touch the paper yet," Sam said. "It's been sitting in this box a long time. It could fall apart unless we're very careful."
"Then let's get it inside." Dean looked over at Caleb. "How are the interrogations?"
Caleb rose and the three started back for the house. "Slow, emotional for the guys, but the three we talked to aren't involved with the succubus."
"Can you get a good read on someone who's been enthralled?" Sam asked curiously.
"It's not easy," Caleb said. "Their minds have been invaded, their will subverted. They're a mess." He shook his head. "But where their thoughts are clear I don't see any subterfuge. Keesh has a good sense for that sort of thing, and so does Robert. Both of them…"
"Caleb!"
Dean, Sam and Caleb looked up to the porch where LaKeesha was standing.
"Doctor Anderson wants us to finish the last guy with the shoulder wound so he can give him a sedative. He's really anxious."
Caleb waved. To Dean and Sam, he said, "I want in on the box reveal," before he jogged off.
Sam and Dean continued trudging up to the house in Caleb's wake. "What if there are more hidden things out here?" Sam asked, looking around at the vast acreage.
"If it's for the brotherhood, I don't think Colt or Wilmington would have planted it somewhere on the grounds. They would want them to be found someday." Dean squinted down at the box in his hand. "I was hoping for more than a box with a key, though."
"A map with an X on it?" Sam teased.
"Nothing wrong with a good X marks the spot."
"Not all treasure is silver and gold, Mate."
Dean grinned. "Guess it could have been a jar of dirt."
Sam snorted. "Pathetic."
"The problem is not the problem," quoted Dean. "The problem is your attitude about the problem."
"Just stop," Sam groaned as they round the corner of the house. "I should never have started quoting Jack Sparrow."
"That's cause you don't know many quotes, so you're feeling outclassed," Dean intoned.
Sam merely rolled his eyes.
No one spoke for a minute or two, before Dean quoted, "If you were waiting for the opportune moment, that was it."
"You're such a child," Sam snapped. Taking the front steps, he slowed as he reached the top. Turning, he asked seriously, "What do you think is on that piece of paper?"
Dean gave a small shrug. "I don't know. There can't be much written; the paper's just a scrap. Maybe it's a phone number, an address, maybe coordinates."
"Maybe it says, You're off the edge of the map, mate. Here, there be monsters." Grinning, Sam raced into the house, leaving the front door wide open.
Snorting out a small laugh, Dean looked down at the small box in his hand. "Yeah, it just might say that."
.
TBC
NOTES: Lomasi and Jacy were two children kidnapped by the Owl Witches that showed abilities to manipulate energies like Onida. Onida's story can be found in "The Guard Changed at Dawn."
Quotes from various Pirates of the Caribbean Movies.