"What the hell?" Dean whispered, feeling a shudder pass through his entire body, as he followed Caleb's rapid fire progression around the table to where Bobby had the number for him to call the people back on.
It wasn't often that they had to deal with CPS. Usually it was their even more powerful police counterparts that they had had the displeasure of working with. Having CPS suddenly be interested in them, was the last thing they needed to have dumped on their laps, especially with how precarious it was with Yellow-Eyes and his unpredictable movements.
"I don't know," Caleb said, his voice tight, as he squeezed the bridge between his nose and eyes with two fingers. "It's probably nothing, something stupid, but I have to call to make sure."
The last thing he felt like doing was calling them and hearing whatever accusations they had against him now, but he knew that ignoring the call would be worse for him, would only raise suspicion into him and what he was allegedly doing with the boys that was wrong, and the last thing he needed was another criminal case on his heels.
"Yeah," Dean nodded, crossing his arms shakily over his chest whilehe waited with bated breath for Caleb to connect with someone on the other line. "Just...don't believe any of their crap, Caleb."
After all, these people didn't know his family. They didn't know the love and support that surrounded he and his brother, and they didn't know how much Caleb and Bobby loved them, didn't know how they had raised them to defend themselves, not out of choice but out of necessity against the various evils of the world.
They didn't know anything, and that was what infuriated Dean more than anything as he chomped down on his bottom lip to stop himself from spouting out something he would regret later.
"I won't, believe me," Caleb assured him. "They don't know the half of it."
"That's for damn sure."
"Watch your tongue," Caleb warned, giving him a sharp glance.
"Sorry."
Even though Caleb let Dean get away with a lot when it concerned the language he used, he still drew the line when it concerned some of the more colorful words that was in his already impressive vocabulary. Caleb nodded, smiling softly to show that it was okay, as he waited to get on the phone with an actual person. Preferably the one who made the call in the first place.
"Hi," he said, when he finally got connected to a real person on the other end of the line. "This is Caleb Rivers, I was told that someone from your office called here."
Hi, Mr. Rivers. This is Diane Ward, I'm the representative that made the call.
"What can I do for you?" he asked, as he turned his torso around to glance over at Dean as Sam perched himself curiously on the island counter, clearly wondering what all the commotion was about.
We received a complaint from a teacher at the private school that Sam and Dean Winchester currently attend.
Caleb would have laughed if he hadn't been so incredulous. "What complaint?" It was ridiculous. If they weren't narrowly avoiding chaos on one issue, they were snowballing into another horrible situation, and this had all the makings to be one of those times again.
As he scrubbed an exhausted hand over his face, he was keenly aware of the look that Dean passed over to him, clearly chomping at the bit to know what was wrong, and what "complaint" CPS had received.
It would be preferable, the lady on the other end said slowly, if we meet in person.
"Well, that's not possible right now," Caleb snapped. "I'm out of town, so whatever you have to say to me, say it right now or wait until I can get back."
When can you arrange to be back in town?
Clearly this woman was one of the stubborn ones, and was not not willing to let it go that easily and it made Caleb nervous. They had been lucky to avoid serious inquiry by CPS before this, and he knew their luck had expired.
"Tomorrow," he finally said.
That would give him enough time to send Bobby ahead, and make sure the area was clear of demons, and maybe even install some of the wards that were on the safe house, at their own home in Minnesota. It would make Caleb feel better about going back for this, and it would certainly ease any fears the boy's had.
One 'o clock?
"Fine."
Hanging up the phone, he leaned back against the counter, as he tried to think through the panic that was rapidly building in the back of his throat. It wasn't enough that they had barely gotten by after Jim died, and then everything Yellow-Eyes had done to Sam.
Now CPS had to "talk" to him about a "complaint" they had received. It was probably bogus, something that was meant to scare him into making sure the boys attended school again, nothing more nothing less, but he wasn't about to take chances based on that assumption alone. Too much was at stake. The boys, mainly. The idea of CPS launching an investigation into him and how he chose to raise the boys, couldn't have come at a worse time, and he was dreading having to answer their judgmental questions and defend himself from the prying eyes of authorities who would have no idea what they were talking about.
"What did they say?" Dean demanded, once he had given Caleb a minute to process whatever CPS just told him. "What's wrong?"
"They wouldn't say," Caleb said, finally feeling strong enough to meet Dean's panicked gaze. "They want to meet with me tomorrow back home."
"So we're going back?"
"I guess we don't have a choice."
Even though Caleb would have preferred staying in the safety of South Dakota until the demon was taken care of, he had no choice this time, and he recognized that.
"When do we leave?"
"I have to meet with the lady at one tomorrow. Probably tonight sometime. Bobby," he said, turning to the older hunter, who had so far remained silent during their conversation. "Is it possible for you to go ahead of us, and put some wards on our house?"
If they could add some of the security measures from the safe house to their own home back in Minnesota, it would make Caleb feel better about attempting it. Not that he had a real choice, not when CPS was acting as though they were about to launch something serious, and it made him sick.
"I could get some iron parts and add them to the windows and doors."
"You can?"
"Sure. I can paint some of the sigil's back there, too."
"What about the wards?"
"Same thing."
"You can do all this?"
"Sure."
Caleb nodded. "I appreciate it."
Even though he and Bobby butted heads sometimes, he was immensely grateful for his rough and gruff friend at that moment. It would be a relief to know that while he was concerned about making sure the boys reached home safely, Bobby would already be there, installing the crucial security measures that had been at the safe house.
"Don't be stupid," came the reply.
Walking into the CPS office, Caleb tried to shut out the part of him that was infuriated. It was hard to control it, though. Just when he thought they could relax and wait out a time until they could get rid of the demon and be safe, CPS had forced his hand in returning home again.
If only these people knew the half of it.
If only they knew how much he adored those boys.
If only they had any inkling what a wonderful family they were together.
"Caleb Rivers?"
"Yes," he said, standing to shake the woman's hand.
"I'm Diane Ward, we spoke on the phone."
"Okay."
If she expected him to show any euphoria at finally meeting her in person, she would be sadly mistaken. She ignored the slight, and instead showed him down a series of hallways until they reached her office near the end.
It was small, and claustrophobic. It reminded him of a police interrogation room, and that only increased his intense desire to get the hell out of there.
"So," she said, as she sat down behind her desk. "We received a complaint-"
"From their school, right?"
"Correct. They seemed to be concerned about a number of things."
"Like what?"
Momentarily taken aback by the sheer amount of venom in his tone, she recovered after a second. "The number of absences, for one."
"What the hell do absences-"
"It could mean a lot," she replied icily, as she consulted the notes she had carefully prepared. "Let's see. Dean, in the past four months has had twenty absences. They were excused away verbally by you, who claimed he was sick, but the school never received confirmation by a doctor."
"Are you aware," Caleb said, matching her tone to a T. "That Jim Murphy, their other guardian, was killed a few months ago? Dean was absent a few months ago-"
"And recently, too."
"What the hell ever," Caleb retorted furiously. "What the hell business is it of yours, or even the school's for that matter, to raise a fit about this when-"
"When it's combined with other factors, it raises a red flag," she interjected.
"What other factors?"
Giving him what could only be described as a smug smile, she slid a folder across to him that he knew contained evidence into what her office was trying to prove. Shaking his head in complete disbelief, he opened the folder and pulled out the first page.
"That's a general timeline of Dean's absences," she explained. "Over twenty in the last several months."
"I believe I already told you why. A dear member of our family was murdered," Caleb said, his voice shaking with both rage and a renewed sense of mourning over his lost friend.
"I'm very sorry for your loss, but that is what the school observed, and that is one of the reasons they called us. Not the main reason," she added, "but one of the red flags that was raised."
"So what's the "main" reason?"
Taking back the folder, she pulled out several photographs and slid them across to him. "These are pictures that were taken on the last day they were seen in school, which was over a month ago. As you can see, Dean has several bruises on his arm, and what looks like a cut or two on the elbow."
Staring down at the photographs of Dean's arm, he tried not to think about the spirit that had caused them. This lady would throw him in a mental institution if he even thought of telling her what had really caused them.
Playing dumb was his only option.
"I don't know how he got them," he lied. "They didn't come from me."
"Well, regardless," she said, "these are bruises that look like they needed to be seen by a doctor. They're swollen, purple and blue, and they look suspiciously like someone either grabbed or hit him."
"And how could you possibly tell just from the photographs if he was hit or grabbed?"
"We have our ways."
Shaking his head in fury, he tried to control himself before he completely lost it. "So are you trying to tell me you're going to use this to launch an investigation-"
"We already have started an investigation. Next we need to speak with the children privately."
This was bad.
Caleb could feel his heart race in his chest, as he tried to control the insane urge to throw the file across the room. This foolish woman had no idea what she was even talking about, and she had brought a firestorm of hell down on his family. It was the last thing either of them needed.
"Fine," he said, beginning to stand up, having heard enough. "I have nothing to hide. They don't either.
"We'll see."
Constructive/Criticism/Reviews are very appreciated
