Prologue: Author's (long) Note
First Note: This story has been completely written, and will be posted in chapters as I correct any errors my lovely friend & beta Anna has found. So read without fear! The story is finished along with my usual epilog!
This story is based on Ridley C James and Tidia's Brotherhood AU. This universe diverted from SPN the series at the S5 finale save the occasional short story or episode extension. All circumstances - financial, career, home, family - of Dean, Sam and Caleb were established by Ridley in her universe. The only addition I made is giving Caleb a significant other ("The Guard Changed at Dawn") and bringing in a couple of children ("The Chaos Tree").
Brotherhood AU refresher:
Caleb was always well off and attended private schools after his adoption by Mackland Ames. He made his own fortune when he started Tri-Corp, his architectural firm, which he later sold for several million to focus full time on the Brotherhood. (He still consults for Tri-Corp occasionally.) He also inherited Mac's fortune upon his adopted father's death, which would include his grandfather's fortune, as Mac would have inherited his own father's Ames Corp fortune, aside from any direct inheritance Caleb received at the time of his grandfather's passing.
In Ridley's world, Jonathan Winchester invested his Marine Corp savings (to the tune of fifty thousand) in Tri-Corp, with the intention of providing a future for his children. When Caleb sold Tri-Corp, Dean and Sam inherited at least a million apiece (established by Ridley, who states Dean is now a millionaire) from that investment. Ridley also established that Dean inherits Pastor Jim's farm. Subtext indicates its likely Dean was Jim Murphy's heir aside from any personal bequeaths to others, including probable ones to Sam and Caleb. This was aside from properties that are passed from Guardian to Guardian, the Wyoming property being one. Ridley also establishes that Dean started his garage in New Haven KY. I added a second garage, figuring that after several years Dean may have expanded and opened a second location in Louisville with an eye to working on Sam, Caleb and Joshua's vehicles in a more convenient location. Sal, whom I put in charge of the Louisville garage location, was also a character introduced by Ridley to help Dean with his New Haven garage.
In Ridley's universe she establishes that Sam works as a professor of law in Louisville, where Caleb and Joshua also live. Caleb designed his own home.
Since I've had a couple of reviews in both my stories questioning Caleb and Dean's close relationship as somehow transplanting Dean and Sam's, I wanted to call attention to the fact that in Ridley's AU, Caleb has always been Dean's advocate, just as Dean was always Sam's. Both relationships are close. Throughout her entire body of work, Dean and Caleb have been closer than Caleb and Sam; this has been brought up in Brotherhood stories. Also cementing the bond between Dean and Caleb is Ridley's Brotherhood Triad hierarchy, where the Knight's primary focus is the safety and protection of the Guardian.
Triads are always very close, as has been established in Ridley's universe. In this Triad, Dean is closer to Sam as he raised him, creating that difficult bond of brother/parent, one the two have struggled with throughout their lives, and I hope that relationship stands out in my fictions. However, considering as of this piece Sam is fifty-nine years old and Dean is sixty-three, they have both grown into strong men with their own families and the joined-at-the-hip relationship showcased on SPN the series is not the relationship now. In my stories Dean, Caleb and Sam have been the Triad for some thirty years, and they know their jobs. They will still struggle with being at odds with one another at times, with the past when it comes up, with new situations in which they find themselves, but these will be organic and not manufactured for the sake of strife. There are numerous SPN stories out there where Sam and Dean, or Sam, Dean and Caleb are in their prime. My stories are not focused on that time of their lives. I hope you'll enjoy this time in their lives, and will continue to read. I can be PMd if you want the link to all the original Brotherhood AU stories!
Chapter 01
Lightning flashed across the ceiling and walls of the darkened children's bedroom as a typical Kentucky thunderstorm raged outside. Child-sized desks and two twin beds flashed into sight, then were shadowed again as the midnight sky went dark once more. The grandfather clock in the hall downstairs had long ago chimed midnight, and Caleb had lost track of how long he'd been lying on the soft, plush carpet of the boys' room. Eyes closed and curled on his side, his arm was outstretched beneath the twin bed nearest the wall, reaching toward the slender, gangly boy huddled into an impossibly small ball in the corner.
"I'm here … I'm here," Caleb murmured softly.
Soft puffs of breath drifted across the carpet from the darkened corner.
"I'm not going anywhere," Caleb murmured again
Time drifted by, the low stilted breathing the only sound apart from the clash of thunder and patter of rain. Eventually Caleb sensed the shift in breathing. Remaining still, he merely left his hand outstretched and waiting. Soon, a slender hand reached out and slipped into Caleb's. Closing his hand over the smaller one, Caleb held on until he felt Tristan move fractionally in his direction. "Come on, Baby" he said softly. Gently he pulled so the child's path out from under the bed was easier. When the boy was within reach, Caleb pulled him into his arms and held on; rubbing his back, running a hand over the child's head, he whispered, "Don't be afraid. I'm here; I'll always be here."
.
Nearly two years since that fateful hunt eliminating centuries old witches in Washington, and Caleb's life had changed beyond all recognition. Not only was he in a committed relationship with an amazing woman who knew about the supernatural, but he was also a father.
A father.
It was a path he'd never thought to walk in life, having declared at a young age that he wouldn't ever risk passing on his own tainted DNA to another generation. And truthfully, through the years he hadn't felt the loss. Aside from his prodigious duties as Knight of the Brotherhood, he'd been active in helping raise Dean's, Sam's and Joshua's children. His years had been rich in experiences, laughter and memories. And yet, though he hadn't looked for it, on one complicated hunt in the state of Washington, everything had changed.
For more than a century, witches called the Tah-tah-kle'-ah had terrorized the Yakima Valley and mountainous region around the Washington State's Yakama Tribe. Known as Owl Witches, the women would kidnap children and either feed off their energy or turn them into witches. The Yakama tribal warriors fought valiantly, but had been unsuccessful in eradicating the evil. Desperate for a solution, the tribe's medicine man and a very talented mystic had devised a way to bind the witches within the forest. After much work and trial, the spell wrought of tribal skill, magic and natural alchemy succeeded, and the Tah-tah-kle'-ah became bound within a section of the forest near the cliff walls. Though the solution meant the witches were not free to roam and terrorize the countryside any longer, they still made their presence known in the area, drawing children into their reach and continuously attacking their secure boundaries looking for an escape. Someone needed to monitor and strengthen the spell, thus the mystic who helped create the magical cave became the very first Yaotlapialistli: guardian.
Through the ensuing generations, children were taken by the witches, and children with gifts were born to fight the Tah-tah-kle'-ah, taking on the mantle of guardian to as best they could protect the Tribe and neighboring towns. Onida Skogstad was the last Yaotlapialistli of her people. Realizing that when she died, her people would be left defenseless, she had sought an answer to ending the Tah-tah-kle'-ah for good. That search led her to Caleb and the Brotherhood.
On one of the most complicated and suspiring hunts in their careers, Dean, Caleb and Sam with the help of the Triad to be were able to eliminated the witches and free any children that had been captured. And once the witches were dead, Onida's job as the guardian of her people was finished. After years spent alone, she had chosen to leave the tribe and move to Kentucky to start a new life with Caleb.
After a year together, both learning to share their lives on a daily basis for the first time, Caleb and Onida were confronted with a question: whether to take in two boys who had been rescued from the Tah-tah-kle'-ah. Most of the children rescued from the witches had been reunited with their families. Despite the trauma and obvious psychical and psychological needs the children would face, their families took up the challenge. In a few cases, however, reuniting the children with the biological families had been difficult or impossible. In one such case, Joshua and Carolyn had decided to adopt a young boy. Joshua's lifelong friend and new Brotherhood member Adam Langston and his wife Margaret had adopted two children. Now Caleb was asked whether he and Onida felt they could take in two traumatized boys: Tristan Myran and Kaven Walsh. In the year since their rescue, Kaven and Tristan had been together through thick and thin, from home to home, and had bonded closer than biological brothers as the Brotherhood attempted to locate their parents.
Kidnapped at three years old, Kaven's young parents were botany students at the University of Washington. On a weekend study trip near the Yakama Reservation, their lives were shattered forever when their baby boy went missing. After the intense scrutiny they'd endured from local and federal agents at the time of their child's disappearance, and following a year of exhaustive searching, the couple had abandoned their studies and returned to Ireland. When the witches had been defeated, Kaven had been rescued after four years of unimaginable horror. Though the Brotherhood researches had tried desperately to locate Kaven's parents, they had been unsuccessful.
Tristan Myran had been four when his life changed forever. He had endured six years of squalor and terrifying conditions; conditions that had left their mark both physically and mentally. Following his kidnapping, his family had relocated from Washington to Tennessee. His father had a history of assault in a sealed juvenile record, and it had been hell for him, his wife, and their newborn baby daughter to deal with the intense police investigation. The pair had since divorced, and Tristan's mother remarried. Though Tristan's father had come to Washington to see him, he felt he hadn't the resources – either emotionally or monetarily – to deal with a traumatized child. Asking only for updates and for the chance to meet his son someday, Matthew Myran had reluctantly signed the papers to give his son up for adoption.
When presented with the question of whether he and Onida would take in these two boys, it had lead to months of consideration and discussion on whether they were prepared to bring two children into what was a new relationship on their parts. In the end, the only thing that truly mattered was that two children needed a good, stable home. Bringing them to Kentucky allowed the boys to go to school with other children that had escaped captivity.
For Caleb, the first weeks of having two skittish and traumatized boys in his home had been an exercise in multi-tasking. He wanted to be there for these two precious children, wanted them to feel secure and safe. Yet he also had responsibilities to the Brotherhood; duties and hunts that needed his attention. It was taking all his decades-honed skills in leadership to balance his responsibilities to the Brotherhood, the Triad and his new children. It was only when Dean had asked why he hadn't gone with Max and Sam on the hunt for a night hag – a hunt Caleb wouldn't have been able to resist just a year ago – that he abruptly realized just how many hunts he was handing over to his young protégé. He realized he needed to do better, prioritize better. Dean had raised three children while running his garage and leading the Brotherhood. Handing off his responsibilities to Max wasn't acceptable. He was the Knight of the Brotherhood, damn it, and he wasn't ready to give that up; not yet.
And yet, he couldn't deny that his life had taken on a whole new dimension. For years his sole focus had been the Brotherhood. Yes, he'd babysat Max and Josie for Joshua, had done the same for JT, James and Mary. But he could give those children back at the end of the day. And if he was busy with a hunt, the hunt took priority. Now he was learning to give two very important factors of his life equal priority, and learning to balance the needs of Onida, Tristan and Kaven with his Brotherhood responsibilities certainly wasn't easy.
When the boys had come home, Caleb and Onida had already set up their room with the basics; beds, desks for homework, beanbag chairs and shelves partially filled with books both he and Onida had enjoyed in their youth. Inside their closet were new clothes, shoes and jackets, while their dresser drawers had a few tee-shirts and some pajamas. More clothes would be needed, but Caleb wanted the boys to pick out some things for themselves.
Like all the children that had been kidnapped, both boys needed regular injections of calcium and complex vitamins to heal their bodies of the abuse they'd endured during their captivity. Though the two had gained a little weight and grown some over the last years, the uncertainty of their home life had made healing difficult. Caleb hoped that now they were home, their recovery would escalate.
In looks, the boys were different as night and day. At eight years old now, Kaven had the classic coloring of his parents: fair freckled skin, dark auburn hair and warm brown eyes flecked with gold. Like all the other rescued children, Kaven was slight of frame and underdeveloped. But with the help of injections and good food, he had been filling out since his arrival, revealing the promise of a sturdy frame and good height.
Tristan, now eleven, was tall and slender; all knobble kneed and sharp elbows. His growth since he'd been eating better only seemed to accentuate his lean body. Fair of face with translucent skin, made all the more dramatic in contrast with his black hair and intensely blue eyes, had finally been giving way to a healthier hue over the months the boys had settled into their new home and into a new routine.
Two weeks after their arrival in Kentucky, the boys were becoming more relaxed in their home when Caleb and Onida decided it was time to take them shopping before they started school at Joshua's. Aside from filling out their basic clothing needs, the two boys needed clothes for school. He also wanted to them to pick out some toys. Both had come to Kentucky with two measly toys apiece, and Caleb felt his heart break at the sight of a battered wooden choo-choo and toy soldier missing half his weapon. They deserved so much more, and he was determined they should get it. As neither child had any experience shopping, he opted to take them to the mall on a quiet Wednesday morning when foot traffic would be light.
Once his black SUV was parked in the nearly empty lot, Caleb shifted around in his seat to face the two, wide-eyed children. "We're going to get you some new clothes, and then we'll pick out some stuffed animals and toys."
Kaven stared from Onida to Caleb a moment before his eyes slid to Tristan. Though marginally more willing to speak than Tristan, in unknown situations the younger child usually deferred to the older.
Tristan merely stared at Caleb, a slight frown on his face. Slowly his eyes dropped to the stiff new jeans he was wearing, the blue batman tee-shirt Dean had insisted on buying each boy, and his new trainers.
Caleb smiled. "Yes, those are new. But you'll need more clothes to play in, go to school, go to barbeques and so many other things. You can't wear the same things every day."
All evidence to the contrary countered Caleb's words, as Tristan had been especially enthralled with the batman tee-shirt and had worn it every day for the last week.
The blue eyes remained blank as Tristan's head quirked slightly to the side.
Used to the lack of vocal communication, Caleb merely smiled. When Joshua had adopted Nicholas, the first child rescued from the witches, they had all gotten used to the boy's taciturn responses to questions and situations. All the rescued children's social skills had been inhibited by being isolated and traumatized at such a young age. As the children re-assimilated into the lives of their biological or adoptive families, there was so much they needed to learn and much they didn't understand. But just as Nicholas had come a long way in the last year, Caleb was looking forward to Kaven and Tristan becoming more vocal as they grew accustomed to their new home and life.
With a quick nod to Onida, Caleb unhooked his seatbelt and climbed from the SUV. Opening the backdoor, he unhooked Tristan's seatbelt so the child could slip out.
Onida walked around the front of the vehicle with Kaven, and they started toward the mall.
The four walked casually toward the main entrance of Macy's, Tristan and Kaven looking around cautiously. As they approached, Tristan edged closer to Caleb's side, and Caleb could feel waves of anxiety pouring from the slender body. Glancing over at Onida, he read her concern. The boys had only been with them a short time. They hadn't even started school with the other rescued children in Joshua's small, one-room school house. Maybe this hadn't been such a good idea.
Onida stepped onto the electronic pad, and the double glass doors swung open. The child at her side gripped her hand. Leaning down, she whispered, "It's going to be all right. You just hold onto my hand."
Once inside the department store, they went through the boys clothing area as expediently as possible, buying jeans, shirts, underwear, socks, trainers, slippers and pajamas. At the tee-shirts, Caleb and Onida stepped back and let the boys explore the different offerings, from superheroes to cartoons. Curiosity overcame timidity, and soon Tristan and Kaven were peering through the rack, awed at the variety of designs.
Caleb held up five fingers and said, "You can each have five."
"Maybe more," Onida said with a smile. Kids went through tee shirts like water. She remembered having piles of them when she was a child.
Tristan thought that through a moment, then his eyes widened.
Caleb smiled. Pulling out a superman tee-shirt, he held it up to check the size before he said, "What about this one?"
Tristan studied the tee a moment, then glanced down at the batman shirt he was wearing before shaking his head.
Smirking, Caleb put the shirt back onto the rack. "Yeah, you're Uncle Dean would have turned it down too."
In the end, Tristan had two more batman tee-shirts and a road runner tee. Both boys got Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and dinosaur tees. Kaven added Donald Duck and Sponge Bob to his haul. Every time he looked at the square yellow sponge figure, a small smile would grace his face.
"What about this one?" Onida said, holding up a tee-shirt with Snoopy on the front.
A small frown appeared on Kaven's face as he stared at the dog lying on the roof of his dog house. After a moment, he looked up at Onida and murmured, "Puppy."
Said with a note of sorrowful remembrance, Onida leaned down and in as light a tone as she could manage, replied, "Snoopy is more of a dog than a puppy. How about we choose something else?" Standing, she shuffled through the shirts until she found an animated Star Wars shirt. "What about this one?"
Kaven's eyes went from the Star Wars tee to the Snoopy shirt that was once again on the rack.
Caleb and Onida's eyes met. Reaching over, Caleb picked back up the Snoopy tee shirt and squatted down. "I think this would be perfect. And maybe we'll have a puppy some day. Would you like that?"
Slowly Kaven nodded and took the tee shirt, his eyes on Snoopy.
"How about we pay for these, then get some toys," Onida suggested.
Once the clothes were paid for, Caleb and Onida loaded the bags into the car and drove around to the other side of the mall. They'd already bought the boys a giant Lego set, drawing pads with numerous crayons and felt-tipped pens, and some stuffed bears. Now Caleb wanted the boys to pick out something that appealed to them.
The moment they stepped into the Playthings Toy Store, Tristan and Kaven froze in shock. The sheer volume of toys packed onto shelves, dangling from hooks, piled on the floor and in bins was mind-boggling.
Caleb's shoulders slumped. Why hadn't he thought? The boys had spent the last year in small mountain towns or on the Yakama Tribal Reservation. Prior to that their lives had been filled with cages, filth, terror and near starvation. How could he have thought a mall, no matter how sparsely trafficked, was a good idea?
Suddenly a warm blue light filled his mind, and he looked over to see Onida's eyes on the two boys, a soft smile on her face. Refocusing his attention, Caleb watched as Tristan pulled a stuffed lion for a large bin of plush toys, smile and hand it over to Kaven.
Kaven's eyes sparkled as he took the lion. Gently he rubbed a hand over the soft fur and down the long tail. A soft giggle escaped his lips as he glanced up at the taller boy. Quickly he reached into the bin and pulled out a large giraffe, all long legs and longer neck. Tristan took the offering and ran his fingers up and down the soft, furry golden neck.
Onida gave Caleb's arm a squeeze. "It'll be all right," she whispered. "We'll make mistakes, but they're survivors. They'll adapt."
Nodding, Caleb said, "They will; and so will we. Let's see how much we can spoil them today."
"Not too much," Onida warned. "We don't want to overwhelm them."
Grinning, Caleb replied, "Let's see how close to the line we can get."
That day in the toy store was one of Caleb's favorite memories. Since many of the toys were beyond the boys' scope of experience and reference, they kept to the simple offerings. In the end, they left with a couple stuffed animals each, matchbox cars, batman and robin figures, some board games and a handful of puzzles they could all work on together.
They finished off their first outing with a late lunch in the park. Since most children were in school, there were very few around, and Kaven and Tristan could explore the playground equipment as long as they chose. Tristan especially loved the swings, much like Nicholas and Maisie. Kaven loved the swings and the merry-go-round. That day was one Caleb clung on to when the first great meltdown occurred.
.
Two weeks after the shopping expedition, of spending time getting used to their new home, Caleb and Onida decided the time had come for the boys to join the other children at school. After his adoption of Nicholas, Joshua had started the school to meet the needs of the children held in captivity. Not only would they learn the basics of math, reading and writing, but would also learn about society, learning to interact with one another and other children at the park, and get special counseling from a psychologist within the Brotherhood Medical Network. The school had started with Nicholas, and Joshua's long time friend Adam's adopted children Maisie and Lucas. Now that number would grow to include Clarissa, who had been adopted by Dean and Juliet, and Tristan and Kaven. The night before their first day of school seemed to go well, with Onida explaining about school, reminding them of when they'd gone to school with the rescued children in Washington, and how they'd be with Nicholas, Maisie, Lucas and Clarissa. The boys appeared to take it in stride until the next morning…
Onida had laid out their clothes for school the night before, and Caleb got them up the next morning. There was a bit of a tussle when Tristan insisted he wear his batman tee shirt and Caleb wanted him to wear a plainer tee, but he didn't push the issue. At the kitchen table, Onida had their backpacks ready with pencils, tablets, the books Joshua had asked them to buy, and crayons.
When he went down for breakfast, Tristan froze in the doorway when he saw the backpacks. His slender shoulders slumped. Kaven sidled up to his brother and took his hand.
"This is for school today," Onida hurried to say. "You're not going anywhere but to school, then you'll come back."
"You remember school, right?" Caleb asked, ushering the boys to the table. "You went to school every day with the other kids on the Reservation. Nicholas, Maisie and Lucas visited there. You're going to school with them today." When neither Tristan nor Kaven spoke, he continued, "You'll go to school, then come back here, all right?"
Both boys remained quiet as they sat at the table, neither child eating a thing. Finally Caleb rose and helped the children into their coats. Suddenly Kaven darted off up the stairs, Tristan on his heels.
"Tristan? Kaven?" Caleb called, following.
Just inside the bedroom Kaven held a beat-up toy soldier and a small rubber ball. Tristan stood holding a battered wooden choo-choo and toy car he'd brought with him to Caleb's in one hand, and in the other his new batman doll with the stuffed giraffe under his arm.
Caleb knelt down before the older boy, saying, "You don't need to take these with you, Baby. You're coming right back."
Tristan didn't say anything, though he refused to put down the toys. When Kaven leaned over and picked up his own batman and the stuffed lion, Caleb knew this wasn't a battle that could be won with words. Nodding, he said, "Let's go down and put these in your backpacks, all right?"
Once the backpacks were repacked, Caleb and Onida helped the boys into the car.
Caleb thought the drive to Joshua's was one of the most traumatic of his life. Tristan was silent, staring out the window, his arm slung over Kaven's small shoulders as the younger boy huddled close to his brother's side, tears rolling like a small waterfall down his cheeks. Onida tried to keep up a light conversation about Nicholas, Maisie, Lucas and Clarissa, but a few silent tears from Tristan broke Caleb's heart into a million pieces. He knew the boys thought they were being moved again, and he seriously considered turning around and taking them back home. He and Onida could home school them at their place.
As if reading his mind, Onida said, quietly, "They need to be with the other children."
Caleb glanced in her direction before focusing again on the road. "Agreed, but maybe not yet. We could arrange play dates, there are Dean's barbeques. They could get used to the other children gradually."
"They were used to going to school in Washington," Onida countered. "They'll get used to it again."
Caleb didn't speak for several minutes until he turned onto Joshua's street. "I'm staying today."
Onida frowned. "I thought you were meeting up with Max and Ryker to discuss that shapeshifter hunt."
Eyes flicking to the mirror to view the boys in back, Caleb said, "I'll reschedule for tonight at our place. The boys need someone there, and you've already got plans with Carolyn and Juliet after she drops off Clarissa."
"All right. I'll call Max and explain." A quick look into the back had Onida saying, "I think one of us should stay every day until they get used to being there."
Caleb sighed as the tension eased in his shoulders. Reaching over, he clasped Onida's hand. "Thank you."
Instead of pulling into Joshua's driveway, Caleb parked at the curb. Opening the backdoor, he knelt down and peered inside. Reaching up, he wiped the tears from Kaven's cheeks first, then Tristan's. "You boys ready for school?" he asked. Tucked securely into Tristan's side, Kaven's lips trembled. "It's going to be all right, Kiddo," Caleb assured him. "We're all going to school today. Okay?"
Tristan opened his mouth, but his eyes flicked past Caleb to the large front door as it opened. Through the door Nicholas bounded out with Joshua on his heels, calling for the young boy to stay on the driveway.
Nicholas raced down the drive to where Caleb was parked. Leaning in, he gave Caleb a hug before waving to Tristan and Kaven.
Joshua walked up behind Nicholas and placed his hands on the boy's shoulders. "You guys are a little early," he said, smiling in at Tristan and Kaven. "Maisie, Lucas and Clarissa aren't here yet." He noted the deer-in-the-headlights expressions both boys were sporting, and the stuffed animals sticking their heads out of the backpacks clutched in the young arms. "Today's going to be a light day as we all get to know one another," he said to Caleb and Onida. "Come on inside."
Caleb helped the boys from the car, and though he wanted to carry their backpacks, neither child was willing to let go of their precious possessions just yet.
Inside, Nicholas grabbed Tristan's hand and pulled him through the front hall toward the kitchen, Kaven dragged like a buoy in their wake.
"He's taking them to see Ted and Maxie," Joshua explained. "The pups are in the backyard."
"Almost a year old now, aren't they?" Caleb asked, following the boys through the kitchen to the glass doors fronting the large backyard.
"Nearly. They're bigger now, but pups just the same," Joshua said with a smile. "They can be a bit rambunctious."
Carolyn walked out from the kitchen. "Onida, want some coffee while we wait for Juliet?"
"Sure," Onida said. "Caleb?"
Caleb shook his head. "I'm fine."
With one last look at Tristan and Kaven, who were being jumped on and danced around by two very excited dogs eager to meet these new playmates, Onida followed Carolyn into the kitchen.
Joshua eyed Caleb a moment, before asking softly, "What happened?"
Caleb racked his fingers through his hair, sighing. "They thought they were leaving, that we were taking them to some other house." Swallowing the emotion that clogged his throat, he managed, "Kaven cried the whole way here."
Joshua sighed. "The backpacks."
Nodding, Caleb ran a hand over his face to wipe away his emotions. "We had them packed with books, tablets, pencils … you know, all the things they'll need for school. But when the boys saw them, they both thought we'd packed things for them to move on."
Glancing down at the pack leaning against the wall by the glass doors, Joshua said, "The giraffe."
"Tristan wouldn't leave without it. And Kaven brought his stuffed lion."
"It's going to take…" Joshua began.
"Time," Caleb interjected. "Yeah, I know. But either Onida or I will stay with them during the day here until they realize they're not getting shunted off to some other foster home."
Joshua eyed his step-brother seriously. "What about the hunt?"
"It's only a strategy meeting today. We'll meet up tonight at my place, and Max can handle it."
Joshua knew his son could handle the hunt. But in the short couple weeks since the boys had come to Caleb, he'd already noticed the other man handing many of his responsibilities over to Max. If Caleb wanted to devote his time to his family, then they needed to discuss a transition. He wanted his Triad's decision to step down be one of deliberation, not a slipping away of responsibility. He didn't want Caleb to give away the Knighthood of the Brotherhood by degrees.
Outside, Kaven and Nicholas were running around being chased by Ted and Maxie, while Tristan watched, a small smile on his face. Every so often the beagle Ted would race over to the black-haired boy and prance around his feet, yipping and grinning up at the child. Tristan would bend down and fondle the beagle's floppy ears before the dog ran back to continue playing with his Labrador pal, Maxie.
The sound of a door opening had Joshua turning to see Adam walk in followed by Maisie and Lucas. The two children immediately dropped their backpacks and ran for the backyard. Setting aside his worries, he opened the French doors so the children could go out. There would be time to address his concerns; there was time for them all to adjust to what must soon be.
When Juliet drove up with Clarissa, who was on her third day of school, Joshua took matters in hand and ushered the children across the back lawn into the classroom. Caleb followed and took a discrete chair along the back wall, watching as Joshua talked, drawing out each child to tell their name and their favorite thing. He then introduced their teacher before sitting down near Caleb. The teacher had the children remove their spelling books from their backpacks along with writing tablets. Soon the kids were practicing their letters while she went over to where Tristan and Kaven sat side by side. As she gently opened their books to the first page with the alphabet, Tristan glanced over his shoulder to where Caleb sat.
Smiling his encouragement, Caleb nodded.
True to his word, Joshua kept the day short. The morning went well, with Tristan and Kaven practicing their letters and remembering how to spell their names. After a snack of granola bars and apple slices, the children had a lesson on society and what different people did in their city, from firemen, to policemen, to gardeners and shop keepers. At lunch, Caleb sat between his boys as they ate peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, with the dogs Maxie and Ted darting between the children's chairs, eager for scraps.
Carolyn, Juliet and Onida returned as the kids were coloring, and soon after everyone went to the park to play for an hour.
But the highlight of the day for Caleb was when he led Tristan and Kaven back to their car and buckled them into the backseat. Tristan blinked a few times, his eyes going to Joshua, who was leading Nicholas to his car, and Adam who was shutting the backdoor on Maisie and Lucas, then over to Juliet who was buckling Clarissa into her seat. Eyes back on Caleb, he murmured hopefully, "Home?"
Caleb reached out and cupped Tristan's cheek in his large, calloused hand, and rubbed his thumb across the soft skin as he'd seen Dean do so often with JT and James when they were children. He'd never realized how comforting the gesture would be for him as well. "Yes," he said fervently. "Home."
The answering sweet smiles from his children was worth all the stress the day had brought.
If Caleb thought the first day of school ride to Joshua's had been traumatic, nothing could have prepared him for the first thunderstorm.
.
March followed the gray opening weeks of the year a few months after the boys joined Caleb and Onida's household. They had settled into their routine of school, trips to the park, and weekend barbeques at Dean's where the children could explore the fields, feed the horses, play with Dean's dogs and swing on the three tire swings Dean had hung from the massive trees in his backyard.
It was late in the month when Onida, Tristan and Kaven ran through a late day downpour to the safety of the house in the dwindling light after school. After dinner and some work on their spelling, the boys took baths and were tucked in at their usual bedtime of eight o'clock. It was just after nine when an early season thunderstorm split the night. Considering the boys had spent the last year of their rescue in Washington, rain was something to which they were well accustomed. However, thunderstorms in all their brash fury were something else all together different.
Directly in the path of Hoosier Alley, Louisville Kentucky experienced numerous thunderstorms during the high storm season of April and May. As a child, Caleb had spent a good deal of time at Pastor Jim's farm during the spring holidays. Usually Jim would wrangle a hunt or assignment for John that would place Dean and Sam at the farm as well. How well he remembered the excitement and thrill he and Dean would feel with the booming of the thunder and the crash of lightening. When Sam got old enough that Dean would leave him unattended in bed, the pair of them would use the noise of the storms to sneak downstairs for a bite of Pastor Jim's apple pie or some other midnight snack. As Dean grew older, such trips turned to pie and a beer, or a dram of whiskey. Storms covered a multitude of sins.
Now … Caleb's view of thunderstorms underwent a radical change.
Sitting at his desk sorting through emails from hunters in the field, a fear so intense it actually shot through his brain like a lance caused him to cry out before it blanked away into nothing.
"Caleb?" Onida cried, running from the living room into the den.
Eyes closed, Caleb moaned as he massaged his forehead.
"Are you all right? Is it Dean? Sam?"
"No, I don't think so," Caleb murmured, massaging his neck. Glancing down, his silver band, the one that connected him to Dean and Sam, wasn't warm or burning. "I've never felt anything like…" Suddenly his eyes widened and he surged to his feet, running full out for the stairs. Onida, sensing his terror, was on his heels. Pausing directly outside the boys' room, he tried to calm his heart. He wouldn't barge in and frighten the children, but he was terrified. Inside, he could only sense the presence of Kaven.
Turning the knob, he silently pushed open the door.
Both beds were empty.
His heart leapt into his throat. Just beneath the sound of the rain, thunder and lightning, he heard crying.
Focusing on Kaven, he walked quietly around the younger boy's bed, his eyes sweeping the dark room. A particularly loud boom of thundered crashed, and light flashed across the ceiling and walls. Slowly he lowered himself to the floor and looked under Kaven's bed first, then Tristan's. There, stuffed tightly into the corner of the wall, was Tristan.
Kaven lay curled tight into Tristan's body, his face buried in the older boy's side. Tristan, on the other hand, was completely still and silent; a frozen ball stuffed tightly into the corner. Onida focused and sent out cool, soothing light. Tristan's essence immediately popped back to life as fear rose to a fevered pitch. Touching Onida's shoulder gently, Caleb murmured, "Stop."
Onida subsided, though at first she didn't understand what had happened. Then suddenly, her eyes widened: the witches had been psychic. Tristan may have been subjected to psychic torture through his years of captivity. Taken at four years old, he had spent six long, horrific years as a captive to the Tah-tah-kle'-ah. Wincing slightly, she nodded.
Lying prone on his side, Caleb reached a hand under the bed and murmured, "Kaven..."
The crying abated some, and there was a small, answering snuffle.
"It's all right," Caleb said softly. "Come on out."
Another sniff followed. After a bit more hiccupping, the younger child finally whispered, "Where?"
"With Onida," Caleb answered. He and Onida had decided to follow his own adoptive father Mac's example and allow Kaven and Tristan to call them Mom and Dad when they felt comfortable and secure enough to do so. They occasionally referred to themselves as Kaven's Mom, or Tristan's Dad, but they wanted to two boys to get used to their new home and for the endearments to flow naturally.
Kaven's small voice wobbled. "Why?"
"So I can help Tristan," Caleb answered.
"I helping," Kaven murmured, his voice barely audible and trembling with tears. "Needs me."
Caleb nodded. He understood. "Kaven, do you trust me?"
Several long moments passed as the young child debated the answer. Finally, he nodded.
"Thank you," Caleb said warmly. "How about you let me deal with Tristan, huh? Can you trust me to watch out for him?"
Kaven appeared to be giving this suggestion great consideration. Finally he nodded. "Won't leave?"
"I won't leave him; I promise," Caleb assured him. Holding out his hand, he said, "Come on, Baby. Let's give Tristan some space."
Kaven's dark eyes met Caleb's with a solemnity too potent for a child. Finally, he nodded. Turning to Tristan, who hadn't moved or made a sound, Kaven whispered, "Daddy's going to help."
Caleb's heart fluttered so wildly he wasn't sure it would stay in his chest. It was the first time Kaven had referred to him Daddy, and he didn't think he could contain his emotions.
Once Onida had taken Kaven in her arms, she walked from the room while Caleb lowered himself to the ground. Lying on his side, he looked beneath the bed.
Tristan was frozen into a ball, his eyes closed, soft puffs stuttering out as he breathed. Now that he could focus his senses on the phenomenon, the stillness and the withdrawal were all familiar: He'd seen a phenomenon like this when he'd first met Dean Winchester.
After his mom's death, Dean hadn't spoken for a year or more. The pain and sorrow were simply too overwhelming for the four-year-old, and he'd just shut down until he could speak without wailing or crying. The only person Dean had interacted with was baby Sam, and later Caleb. During those early encounters he'd broken through to Dean by speaking to him psychically. The young Winchester had needed a safe harbor where he could heal. Caleb had known that, had understood. To Dean, he had provided the safety the child needed in the form of another kid.
Now, while he couldn't be a kid again, he could offer Tristan safe harbor from his fears by letting the child know he was there. Rather than use his psychic abilities as he had with Dean, he could be a solid presence, a bulwark in the storm. Instead of crowding the child and moving closer, he had simply reached his hand under the bed and murmured softly, "I'm here."
It had taken nearly three hours before Tristan had moved away from the corner. He'd slid carefully and slowly across the floor, waiting at intervals to see what Caleb would do, until his small hand had slid into Caleb's much larger one. "I'm here, Baby," Caleb murmured. Ever so gently, he pulled the child across the remainder of space between them and into his arms. Together they lay on the floor for several more minutes, Caleb murmuring endearments and comforting words, all the while running a hand soothingly over Tristan's back.
Finally, Tristan's wide, moist eyes met Caleb's and he gasped, "Safe?"
"Yes, Baby; you're very safe."
Lips trembling, the tears had finally fallen as the child buried his head into Caleb's chest and he sobbed. Caleb's heart broke when he caught the words, mean, scary and dark. "No more darkness, Baby. Only light for you from now on. You're safe; you're safe."
Finally, Caleb was able to pull the eleven-year-old to his feet. In stress and fright, the child had wet himself. Caleb took him to the bathroom where they'd both climbed fully clothed into the warm shower. Gently he slipped off Tristan's pajamas and washed him down, then toweled him off and put on the fresh pair Onida had placed on the sink. Then he'd lifted the child into his arms and carried him back to his and Onida's bed. They'd slept late the next morning, just cuddling in bed, relishing the warmth of the blankets and the sense of being family.
When the next thunderstorm tore its way through the area, Caleb was once more on the floor, a hand outstretched beneath the bed to the small boy tucked into the corner, reliving the terror of the witches. "I'm here," he murmured. "I'm here, Baby." Hopefully soon, a small hand would slide into his, and the world would right itself once more.
Sam Winchester stepped out through the doors of the University's Brandeis School of Law building and took a long, cleansing breath of warm spring air.
It was after four on a sunny Friday afternoon, and the end of a long week spent balancing his Brotherhood duties with the winding down of the college semester. Squinting against the late afternoon sunlight, he headed for the faculty parking lot. He was looking forward to the weekend and had originally planned on being out of the law building by two-thirty. Instead, he had received a surprise phone call from the past: a former Stanford classmate named Milton Belleau.
Last fall when his article on the privacy implications of drones and filming people unaware had been published in the prestigious American Bar Association Journal Magazine, he'd received several calls from his New York University school buddies congratulating him on the publication and commenting on the interesting and unique subject matter. He'd enjoyed reconnecting with friends and internship colleagues over the ensuing few months. However, Milton reaching out, a blast from the long ago past had been a shock.
Though occasionally thoughts of friends from his youthful Stanford days crossed his mind, he truthfully didn't think of that time in his life much. But in the unlikely event anyone from his Stanford days reached out to comment on his article, he wouldn't have thought it would be Milton Belleau. He and Milton had been on the same career track their entire tenure at Stanford, with Belleau achieving an impressive LSAT score, bested only by Sam. In truth, for two people traveling the same exact road, they hadn't been especially close. Now as Managing Partner at Skadden, Arps, Slate Meagher & Flom - one of the most prestigious law firms in San Francisco - Milton had done Stanford proud. After his surprise had abated, he and Milton had spent over an hour reflecting on their Stanford days, their careers, where former Stanford friends were now and their own families. For Sam, it had been a nostalgic, not unpleasant trip down memory lane, and they had vowed they would stay in touch in the future.
Now as he jogged down the short flight of steps into the faculty parking lot, he let his mind drift back to that time. It was difficult to connect, emotionally, with Sanford and the years he'd separated himself from his family. They were a blur of blissful freedom and defiance cloaked in sorrow. The memories, the friendships – it was like they belonged to someone else, so much had happened in the years since he'd left those sunny climes. Now he saw those California days as days of innocence. Well, as much innocence as was possible for someone raised as Sam had been. But his life since those days had been so full of impossible feats and sorrows, sharp turns and surprises, that when Dean had suggested he return to Stanford to finish his law degree, he had known there was no going back. He'd grown too much since those youthful days. And in the years since graduating college in New York, the changes were still happening: marriage, being the father of a lovely, smart, talented daughter, a professor at a University, and the Brotherhood.
Sam wound his way through the cars and SUVs to his own vehicle. As was his custom throughout most of his adult life, he often spent a couple weekends a month at the farm with Dean, Juliet and Caleb. Now with the new family additions to Dean and Caleb's households, he had taken to going every weekend so he could get to know Clarissa, as well as Tristan and Kaven. He couldn't help the grin that spread across his face. Dean had a daughter. Dean's sole experience in raising children had been boys: with him, in their driven father's absence, and with Ben, JT and James. It was very intriguing and enlightening to watch his brother navigate the murky waters of a female child. Of course, he'd had numerous experiences in babysitting Sam's own daughter Mary, and Joshua's daughter Josie. But then, Dean excelled at being a father.
Sam maneuvered his car out of the nearly vacant staff lot and into traffic as he drove toward home. Usually he headed straight over to Dean's on Friday nights. Lately, however, he'd taken to going over on Saturday mornings. Though Caleb had commented on the change, he hadn't explained the adjustment to anyone yet, although he was sure Dean knew. He'd begun to date again.
Sam had known Mahira Sachdev casually for more than six years. Their initial meet had occurred when he'd taken Mary for her first summer internship at the Louisville Courier Journal following her sophomore year in high school. Founded in 1868, the C-J was the largest newspaper in Kentucky, and Mahira had been an integral part of the Journal's family for over fifteen years. While he hadn't been convinced allowing Mary to do an internship so early into her high school years was wise, Mahira had set him at ease with a measured plan for how many hours Mary would be allowed to work at the paper. They'd talked on and off throughout that summer, but had rarely seen one another through the ensuing years.
Sam had reconnected with Mahira just a few months ago when he and a colleague from the University law department had gone out for dinner. Mahira was also at the restaurant with a couple of her newspaper co-workers. Recognizing Sam, she had immediately come over and complimented him on his article in ABA. When Mahira and her friends were called for their table, she had invited Sam and his colleague to join them. Soon everyone was dining together, enjoying drinks, good food and lively conversation.
Of Persian decent and a second-generation immigrant, Mahira had strong ties with her extended family in Iran. As was their familial custom, she had married young and given birth to two children before she was twenty. When her children were old enough for school, she secretly enrolled in the local Community College where she earned an Associate Degree with a journalism focus. Though her husband was a traditional third-generation Iranian, he understood Mahira's love for writing, and turned a blind eye as she penned articles that were published in several well-known newspapers, magazines and journals. All he had asked was that she didn't write as Mahira. Acquiescing, she used the pseudonym Mary Granger.
Following the death of her parents, Mahira decided it was time to step out of the shadows and into the light, not only for herself, but as an example to her children who were both now in high school. America was the land of opportunity, and she wanted her daughter, especially, to see that she could achieve anything. After much consideration, she applied as a journalist to the Louisville Courier. When her husband found out, he had insisted to resume penning her covert articles and leave the Courier. Her refusal preceded months of arguments, long silences and counseling. Finally, Mahira and her husband had parted ways, as she couldn't live a hidden life any longer. She stayed on with the Louisville Courier and had been there ever since.
Sitting next to Mahira that first night, Sam had talked about Mary, she about her two children, they caught one another up over their careers. As the conversation wound its way through a myriad of topics, Sam felt a stirring of interest, and knew Mahira had as well. He wondered whether he was ready to pursue a new relationship, and by the end of the evening he thought he was. When they all rose to leave, Sam asked Mahira if he could call her sometime soon for dinner. Her card was ready and in his hand before he finished the question, a mischievous smile on her face.
Instead of Friday nights at the farm, the last few months Sam and Mahira would spend those nights having dinner and going to the movies or the theater. They attended lectures, went to readings, or often just walked through the downtown Louisville area, stopping wherever the mood struck them for food or a drink. Neither had told their families of their burgeoning relationship as yet, wanting to keep their friendship new and private. Though he thought Dean knew, his brother hadn't asked any leading questions, so Sam had kept silent.
His cell sounded, breaking his revere. When he looked down at the name illuminated on the face and smiled. "Hey."
"Hey," came an answering female voice. "When will you get here?"
"I'm just getting home. I'll be there by six."
"Weren't we planning on leaving work early?" Mahira said humorously.
"I got caught up," Sam chuckled, and he told her about his call from Milton Belleau.
"Intriguing. Have you two kept in touch?"
"No," Sam said, climbing from his SUV and hurrying to unlock his front door. "In fact, we were always friendly, but not friends."
Mahira nodded to herself. "Sometimes old acquaintances need time to mature into friendship."
"That they do," Sam said with a smile.
Mahira didn't ask whether any of the people he'd considered friends from his Stanford days had called. She didn't know a lot about those years, but knew they were a source of sorrow and conflict. Maybe someday Sam would reveal to her what happened during those years, but she also knew that sometimes what was in the past needed to be left in the past. They both had pasts that were better left behind.
Sam opened the front door and tossed his keys onto the hall consol. Striding into his bedroom, he juggled the phone as he stripped off his jacket and tie and dropped them onto the bed. "Know what you want for dinner?"
"Not yet, but I'll have decided by the time you get here."
"One hour and I'll be at your door."
"See you then," Mahira said as she disconnected.
With a smile, Sam tossed the cell beside his jacket and headed for the shower, eager for the night ahead.
TBC
Author's Notes:
I wanted to say first a huge THANK YOU to my friend and beta Anna for helping me out on this story; correcting the autocorrect mechanism, and correcting those the autocorrect failed, and pointing out any errors in timelines/past events when current events overrode my detail-oriented mind. Thank you!