The Chaos Tree

Chapter 14

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Joshua found getting everyone up to their rooms was easier than he'd expected. Since it was just before midnight, the hotel wasn't as crowded as during peak hours.

It had taken them an hour to drive back from the battle site, and after his brief minute or two awake, Dean had remained asleep. Sam was extremely concerned. It took a great deal of effort to keep a handle on his feelings as the concussion played havoc with his emotions. When they pulled into the parking lot, Joshua took extreme care to park the Impala straight and in a place where it wouldn't be in danger from less careful drivers. Climbing out, he saw Daniel run past him into the hotel, and return a few minutes later with a wheelchair.

Glancing up at Joshua, Daniel said, "I told them one of our guys got a leg injury riding motorcycles."

"Good thinking." Joshua opened the rear door to the Impala, and together with Daniel, they pulled Dean from the car.

"Why isn't he awake?" Daniel asked quietly, his eyes on Sam, who was making his way gingerly around the car.

"I don't know. It could be the magic, but I believe blood loss."

"Should we take him to the hospital?" Sam asked, leaning down and rubbing a hand over his brother's head.

Joshua sighed. The truth was, he didn't know. They hadn't gotten a good enough look at the wounds yet, he hadn't been able to examine anyone.

"Let's get up to the rooms," Caleb murmured, his arm around Adam's shoulders. "We'll assess and go from there."

Onida went from one to the other, brushing as much dirt and debris from their clothing as possible before the group headed for the side door. They used the rear first floor elevators to get to the ninth floor, receiving only a few odd looks along the way. When the doors opened on their floor, Raylan was standing outside ready to help.

Caleb steered the group to his and Onida's suite for assessment and treatment. Once inside, he leaned against the door, head pounding and his body aching. His stomach was churning uncomfortably as he swallowed thickly.

"Caleb?"

Opening his eyes, Caleb observed Onida and Sam standing in front of him. Smiling, he said, "I'm fine … for being thrown several yards across a field and into a thicket of trees."

Sam gave a short laugh.

"You need to get some rest," Caleb remarked to Onida, worriedly. "You're white as a ghost."

At that moment Adam stepped up and handed Onida a leftover turkey sandwich he'd retrieved from the room's mini-refrigerator. "Joshua said you should eat this and sleep."

"Thank you," Onida said, taking the sandwich. Putting a hand on Caleb's cheek, she walked slowly into hers and Caleb's bedroom and closed the door.

Caleb nodded to Adam, who gave him a small smile and returned to where Joshua was unpacking some of their medical gear. Straightening his shoulders, he stepped over to the medical equipment and picked up a penlight. Motioning to Sam, he said, "Come on, let me check you out." Using the light, he expertly checked the younger man's eyes. "You've definitely got a concussion. Any other wounds?"

Sam shook his head, his eyes going back to Dean, who was lying on the couch. "Cuts, scrapes and bruises, but about that's it."

Caleb put a hand on Sam's shoulder and gave it a comforting squeeze. "Go get a shower, get changed and come on back. The couch pulls out into a bed and I'm bringing in a couple of rollaways."

Sam sighed and nodded. "Yeah, okay."

"I'm going to get cleaned up and changed too," said Daniel, following Sam to the door.

"You get cleared by Joshua yet?" Caleb asked. He stepped over and shone the penlight into Daniel's eyes.

Daniel smiled. "Yeah, other than some cuts and scrapes, which I'll have treated after a shower, I'm fine."

Caleb nodded. There'd been no signs of concussion. "All right, see you soon." He closed the hotel room door and turned to watch Joshua and Raylan clean Dean's wounds. "How's he doing?"

"His breathing and respirations are fine," Joshua said without looking up. "Blood loss is the greatest concern right now."

Caleb eyed the gaping puncture holes in Dean's side, shoulder and chest. "Those from magic?"

Joshua nodded. "When Onida gets some rest, I'll ask her to heal them. Right now, we're making sure the wounds are clean and that he's stable."

"No concussion?"

"His eyes are tracking fine, and other than a few minor lumps on his head – which we all know are nothing to the Winchester cranium of steel," Joshua said with a smile at the old joke, "he shows no sign of concussion."

Raylan stood and said, "Come on, I'm checking you over."

"I'm fine," Caleb said, his eyes still on Dean.

"I wasn't askin'," Raylan stated, going to the table and pulling out a chair.

Caleb glanced over and huffed softly. "Fine."

Raylan checked Caleb's eyes and his pulse, listened to his breathing and checked his respirations and reflexes. Finally stepping back, he said, "You need to lie down. Daniel said Onida healed you, but you've got rales in your left lung, your breathing is stilted and your eyes aren't tracking. Take a shower and get some sleep. I'll be waking you in an hour."

Caleb blinked up at the hunter's orders. It wasn't often he was on the receiving end of medical strong-arming. Usually he was the strong arm man. Giving Raylan a wry look, he conceded. "Fine. I'll wait till Sam gets back and the rollaways are delivered. And don't worry about waking me every couple of hours. Onida can handle that."

"Fair enough," Raylan said, moving over to help out Joshua once more.

Within a half hour, two rollaways had been brought up to Caleb's room, and Raylan, Daniel and Adam had gotten Dean moved so Joshua could pull out the sofa sleeper. Sam helped make the bed and they tucked Dean inside.

Raylan ushered Daniel, Joshua and Adam out of the room to get some sleep, and sent Caleb to his bedroom. When he turned to Sam, Sam smiled and said, "I'll sleep here," he pointed toward Dean.

Raylan nodded. "I'll wake you in an hour." After turning out the lights, he crawled onto the rollaway bed, set his watch timer and fell instantly to sleep.

.

Dean opened his eyes and found himself standing in his living room at the farm. Frowning, he looked around. The place was eerily quiet, deserted. "Juliet?" He felt disoriented, confused. Not feelings he usually experienced when he was here at the farm. Since his dream encounter with Jim Murphy a year ago, the first one he'd had since hell, the doorway to meeting his old mentor at the kitchen table had been opened again. While the dream visits didn't happen often enough to suit him, he cherished the occasional conversation at the table, sometimes with Gideon alongside them, drinking sweet tea.

But this wasn't like those times. For one, he'd never appeared in the living room before. It was always the kitchen. So what was happening? Turning, he walked down the hallway to view the guest bedroom, then turned back and entered the kitchen. "Juliet!" Taking the stairs two at a time, he checked his and Juliet's bedroom, then the boys' old rooms before jogging back downstairs. The creaking of an old, wooden rocker had him moving slowly back to the living room.

Pastor Jim sat in his old rocker, a rocker that had broken years before, a Bible open on his lap, reading.

"Jim?" Dean said, moving in closer.

Pastor Jim didn't give any indication he'd heard Dean or his approach.

Dean dropped onto the couch across from his old friend and watched him read for a couple of seconds, before he said again, "Pastor Jim…"

"Jim?"

Shocked at the sound of a voice he'd never heard in his dreams with Jim Murphy, Dean's gaze jerked in the direction of the kitchen where he saw Ms. Emma walk out, a tall glass of sweet tea in her hand.

"Here you go," Ms. Emma said, smiling. "I know you get thirsty when you're preparing to meet with Pastor O'Shaughnessy."

Pastor Solomon O'Shaughnessy? What was going on?! Suddenly Dean realized that Jim's hair was dark and his face unlined.

Jim chuckled. "He does like to spar, doesn't he?"

"He does that just to drive you crazy," Emma said with a smile.

Dean felt his heart racing and he jumped to his feet. What was happening? Breathe coming in gasps, he rushed to the front door and stared out at the newly built closed-in porch and the green lawn beyond. No, he didn't have a green lawn. Pastor Jim had never had a green lawn, not as long as he'd been coming to the farm. He was asleep, he knew that. But this wasn't like meeting up with Pastor Jim, this was something else. Turning, he raced down the hall and turned into the library. Pulling a few books from the sparsely populated shelf, he saw no brass latch leading into the Tomb. No, at this point in Jim's life there wouldn't have been a Tomb, would there?

Anxiously he ran a hand over his face. Slowly he returned to the living room, passing Ms. Emma working at the counter in the kitchen. He stepped back into the living room where Pastor Jim still rocked in his chair. Gingerly he lowered himself back onto the couch, his eyes fastened on the other man. "Jim?" There was no answer. Clenching his fists slightly, he tried again, "Pastor Jim? I don't know if you can hear me. You're not the Guardian of the Brotherhood yet, don't even know what that is, I guess. But I think you were always the Guardian in your heart, weren't you?" The man across from him kept rocking, his gaze focused on his Bible. "I don't know what's happening … but whenever I didn't know what was going on, I could always talk to you. So that's what I'm going to do. Okay?" Again, there was no response from the man in the rocker. Dean nodded to himself, anxiety causing his heart to skitter slightly. "Okay, here goes. We're up against a powerful witch. He's centuries old. I don't know how he got to be so old, but, maybe that's a mystery for you, right?" After watching Pastor Jim a moment, he continued, "Anyway, he plans on remaking the world by using a spell. I guess he wants to take down the United States first, then move on to other countries. We can't get close enough to take him on physically, and bullets don't work. Joshua's spell potions didn't do a lot of damage either. Guess we'll need to rework those. Truth is, we don't know how to take him out. We met up with him face to face once already, and got our butts kicked. And there are these boxes ringing the country… They're giving off some kind of energy we've never seen before." There was no acknowledgement from Pastor Jim that he was there, no response whatsoever. "Jim," Dean uttered, his voice raw. "Can you help me? Jim!"

Still, the man in the rocker kept reading.

Dean felt the tears in his eyes and fought to keep them from falling. Nodding several times, he finally stood. "Yeah, okay. I know you would help if you could. I'm in the wrong time. Maybe next time I'll get it right, huh?" Turning, Dean headed for the kitchen where he would go out the backdoor like he always had before.

"Strength. Through. Generations."

Dean froze. Turning, he rushed back into the living room to find Pastor Jim standing there, gray hair sticking up all over the place, his old Bible held in his hand. "Jim!"

Jim didn't smile. Instead, he appeared to be struggling to speak. "Strength … through … generations."

"What does that mean?" Dean asked desperately.

"No, Merlin's Child," came a voice ringing through the dream. "Vos mos on adepto auxilium de praeteritis." (You will not get help from the past.)

"You can't get inside my mind," Dean shouted into the air.

"In dream, I am, Child." There was an echoing laugh. "In planum somnium aperta sunt omnia. (The dream plane is open to all.)

Straightening his shoulders and taking a firm step forward, Dean stated, "This place is mine. Get out."

"Non ero porto in." (I will not let you carry on.)

"You can't stop me."

"Can't I?" Piruz's echoing voice taunted. "You not stop me."

"Yes," Pastor Jim said, stepping up and putting his hand on Dean's arm. "We can." Taking Dean's arm, a wave of intense blue light shot out from their bodies, and Dean heard the echoing scream of Piruz fading away.

"Jim…" Dean began, only to find himself waking up in a bed.

"Dean?"

Confused, Dean looked around, expecting to see his home in New Haven. Instead, this looked like a hotel room.

"Dean…"

Turning, Dean saw Sam's concerned face right next to his. "Where…"

"We're in Charlotte North Carolina, at the Westin," Sam said. "You got hurt fighting Piruz last night."

That's when Dean noticed the pre-dawn sun lighting the room, and he also noticed the pain all across his body. Groaning, he lay back down, grimacing.

"I'll go get…"

"No," Dean whispered, grasping Sam's forearm to keep his brother by his side. The dream or visitation or whatever it was had been so odd, he needed Sam to anchor him right now. "Stay here. What happened?"

Sam plumped up his pillows and lay back down facing Dean and gave an overview of the night, finishing with how, after Piruz had tossed Dean across the field, Joshua had let loose a magical spell that had somehow shutdown Piruz's magic. "That's when he left."

Dean nodded. "Damn, it's good to have Josh on our side." After a long moment, he said, "Why did Piruz leave? We were all down. Is Josh strong enough to beat him?"

"I don't know," Sam said. "Joshua's magic didn't take him out, though it did toss him across the field. Maybe he was surprised. I don't think Joshua used a spell to kill him; just to mitigate what he'd already set in motion."

"Did he use Triad magic?" Dean asked.

Sam shrugged. "He knows a lot about Triad magic, magic we haven't had to use much since the Apocalypse and the angels."

"It was powerful just the same," Dean said with a smile. "Knocked our very smug ancient witch on his ass."

Sam chuckled. "Yup, he did. I think Joshua has more up his sleeve."

Looking over at Sam, Dean said, "You okay?"

Sam nodded. "Bruised; some cuts, scrapes and a concussion, which Raylan has been checking every hour. But I'm okay."

"Good." Dean winced slightly as he shifted.

"What happened?" Sam asked.

"He had these spikes that veered in midair; went around my Guardian shield."

Sam started to get up, saying, "I'm going to get Onida to heal those."

"No, not yet." Dean wasn't ready for Sam to leave. He was still unsettled about the dream. "It's too early. She can do her thing later."

A small buzz sounded, and Raylan pushed himself up off the rollaway and walked over to Sam, penlight in hand. Smiling, he said, "You're up." Then his eyes went over to Dean, and he repeated, "You're up!"

Dean huffed out a soft laugh.

Raylan leaned over to check Sam's eyes responses. Finally, he said, "That was the last check. You're fine, though you'll have to go easy for a couple days." Turning to Dean, he said, "And now, you."

"I don't have a concussion," Dean protested, leaning away from the light.

"You were out for several hours. Sure, it was probably blood loss, but I'm checking anyway."

Dean sighed and submitted to the examination.

After a minute, Raylan stood back up. "Looks good. How about we all get some uninterrupted sleep, huh?" Smiling, he walked back to his rollaway, dropped down and was asleep in the next second.

"Wow," Dean murmured. "And I thought I fell asleep fast."

Sam snickered softly. Shifting back on his side, he pulled the covers up over his shoulders. After a moment, he asked softly, "Did you have a dream?"

Dean hesitated only a moment before he nodded. "But it wasn't like a usual dream with Pastor Jim," he murmured, his eyes going to Raylan to make sure the man was down for the count. Quietly he told Sam all about the dream and what Jim had said.

"Strength through generations?" Sam repeated. "What does that mean?"

"I don't know. Last year when Jim got through to me, there were the Guardians of all the generations there, but I don't think that was usual."

"Just one more riddle in a hunt full of them," Sam said, then he yawned.

"Yeah," Dean murmured, shifting slightly. "Let's get some sleep. Then maybe Onida can work her magic."

Lips curved slightly, Sam said, "Night, Dean."

"Night, Sammy," Dean murmured, and closed his eyes.

JT stood on the deck of his North Carolina home, the house where Caleb had lived as a child until his parents had been murdered. Even with the tragic history, JT loved the place. Caleb had given it to him after he'd left the Red Sox and started earning a living as a photographer. The beach front home was meant to be lived in by an artist, his uncle had said. Breathing in the salty sea air, he didn't know if he bought that reason for the gift, but he wasn't arguing. Though the sun had long since set, the moonlight shown magically on the water. It was beautiful.

He hadn't heard from his father since the first day he, his Uncle Sam and Uncle Caleb had left home to track the witch. He wanted to call, wanted to know what was going on. He felt something happening, but he couldn't put his finger on what it was. There was just a subtle shift in vibration, in the current of society. He didn't know if his sensing certain things was a Guardian gift, like his father thought, or just an innate ability. But he felt anxious about what his father and uncles were doing.

With a sigh, he turned and walked back into the house. Maybe he should call Max and James. If he was feeling anxious, he knew Max and James would be feeling the same. However, one look at the clock on the kitchen wall had him reconsidering. The call could wait for the morning.

Sitting back down at his desk, he sighed and resumed work on his photo spread. It was due in three days, and quite frankly, for perhaps the first time he wanted it done and to the publisher. He had a feeling the next few days were going to get very busy.

It was after midnight, and Max was cooking. The kitchens at Sawyers had closed an hour ago, and he was alone. He shimmied his top-of-the-line skillet over the burner, browning and tossing some butternut squash and kale before adding it along with goat cheese to his phyllo pie. He'd never made a skillet pie, but had seen the recipe and wanted to try it out.

It had been three days, and he hadn't heard anything from his father or Caleb. He didn't like being out of the action on a hunt he'd helped to research. Of course, he hadn't done a lot of the research, but he was invested anyway. Arranging the phyllo over the squash, kale and goat cheese, he adjusted the heat and stepped back, keeping an eye on the browning dough.

Glancing at the clock again, he wanted to call Caleb. He knew Caleb, Sam and Dean had driven to Mississippi to track the witch. After that he surmised they would head east, maybe to North Carolina or Virginia. Caleb had left him in charge of the field, and he'd been working with several other hunters on their jobs. It was definitely a big job, and he was getting an unprecedented view into what Caleb did. No wonder his uncle had sold Tri Corp to work full time for the Brotherhood. But he wasn't at the stage where he wanted to sell Sawyers. He had an excellent backup chef and two very skilled sous chefs which allowed him a large degree of latitude for hunting. Maybe when Caleb retired…

Max turned his mind away from that thought. He didn't want Caleb to retire.

Sighing, he turned and poured himself a small glass of red wine. Sipping it, he continued to watch the pie brown, just letting him mind drift when there was a banging at his restaurant's back door. Frowning, he shoved the pie off the burner and pulled his gun. Walking to the door, he shouted, "Who is it!?"

"James!"

Shaking his head, he opened the door to allow his roommate into the kitchens. "Why didn't you call? I would have left the door open."

"I didn't know if I'd complete my report for the Ames Security Office in time to come over."

"It's after midnight," Max pointed out.

James grinned. "Got any leftovers?"

Max jerked his head toward the fridge. "There's some black tie scallops and herb-roasted chicken."

James went over to the industrial fridge and dug around, coming back with the chicken and an individual mousse cake.

Max smiled and rolled his eyes. Of course James would find the cake.

Pulling a stool up to the counter, James asked, "You heard anything from dad?"

"No," Max said, turning down the heat on the phyllo pie as the browned edges started curling inward.

James watched him. "You going to call?"

"No," Max sighed, "not yet."

"They've been gone three days."

"Yeah." Turning to lean against the prep table, Max said, "I want to go and help, but don't know exactly where they're at right now. Plus, Uncle Caleb put me in charge of the other hunts across the country. I can't just run off when I've got that responsibility."

James wanted to argue, but he knew better. Max took his responsibilities as the soon-to-be Knight of the Brotherhood very seriously. He understood. He took his upcoming role seriously too. But he didn't have as many active responsibilities to others as Max. "Yeah, I know."

Max watched James for a few minutes as the younger man ate, then he asked, "You talk with JT?"

James shook his head. "He's working on his photo spread. I didn't want to disturb him."

Max smiled. "You don't think he's preoccupied with this too?"

Chuckling, James said, "Yeah, he probably is. Want to give him a call?"

Max shook his head. Walking forward, he took the skillet pie off the burner and set it on a cooling rack. "I'll call in the morning, see if he's heard from Uncle Dean."

James nodded, his eyes on the skillet. "What's that?"

"I saw a recipe for a skillet pie, and thought I'd give it a try. You want some?"

"Definitely. It's not often I get to try something before it goes on the menu."

"You always try things before they hit the menu," Max argued, pulling down two plates from a nearby cabinet and putting them beside the pie.

"Do not," James denied.

"Do to. I cook a lot at home."

"That doesn't count because it's not in your restaurant," James countered with a grin.

Max snorted as he sliced into the pie and lifted a hot, steaming piece. "Well then, here's an official, it-was-cooked-in-my-restaurant piece of skillet pie."

James cut a piece of the pie and blew on it for a second before he took the bite. "Um, this is really good."

Max was chewing, savoring the squash and the goat cheese along with the crunchy pastry. "I like it. Needs a bit more spice."

"You'll make it work," James said, taking another bite.

"And we'll call if we don't hear anything by Thursday," Max stated.

James nodded his heart lightening.

Joshua opened his eyes. Bright morning sun was flowing in through the window of his bedroom. A glance at the clock told him it was after nine in the morning. He couldn't remember what time he'd gone to bed, but from the way he felt, he hadn't gotten enough rest.

Groaning, he rolled over and picked up his phone. Hitting speed dial one, he smiled when Carolyn answered right away.

"How are you?"

Smiling, Joshua answered, "Fine, good."

"You sound tired," Carolyn observed with the ears of someone that had woken up at his side for over thirty years.

"I am, a bit. But I'll get more sleep. How's Nicholas?"

"Missing you. When are you coming home?"

"I don't know. This hunt isn't an easy one, but I hope soon."

Carolyn gave an inaudible sigh. She didn't bring up her hope that Joshua would retire soon. She'd wanted him to retire from hunting eight years ago at sixty-five. But she was from a long hunting lineage herself, and she knew the drill. She would have to be patient. "Then get it done, Mister, and get home."

Joshua smiled. That was one of the things he loved most about his wife. She was supportive even when she didn't agree with his choices.

"How about I get Nicholas on the line…?"

"That would be great," Joshua said. A moment later he could hear breathing and said, "Hello Nicholas! How are you?"

It was a moment, before Nicholas said, "Back?"

"Very soon; I'll be back very soon. How are the puppies?"

"Fun. Ted … wet the floor."

Joshua laughed, glad to hear a rare complete sentence, and loving that Nicholas was having fun with the puppies. "Did he? Well, he's a baby. He'll get better." After a second, he said, "I have to go, but I'll be back very soon. I love you, Nicholas."

"Back," Nicholas breathed into the phone. After a moment, he said, "Love daddy."

Joshua's eyes teared up and he said, "Love you too, baby."

A moment later Carolyn was on the line, and Joshua could hear the tears in her voice when she said, "Come home fast. We love you."

"I love you too," Joshua said, hanging up. Smiling, he lay in bed another few minutes before pushing himself up and heading into the shower.

He was just getting dressed when there was a knock on his door. Going into the main room, he opened it to find Adam standing there. "Come in. Are the others up?"

"I haven't checked," Adam said. "I just woke up myself an hour ago. I feel like I could sleep for another day. I can imagine how you're feeling."

Joshua eyed his friend, and went for the coffee. "Want some?"

"I want to know what happened last night," Adam said in his direct fashion. "First of all, are you all right?"

Joshua smiled and placed two cups of coffee on the table. "I'm tired, but fine."

"What happened? How did you do that kind of magic? I don't know of anyone who could do what you did."

Joshua thought about that for a moment. He trusted Adam with his life, had trusted Adam with his life for decades. But this was brotherhood business, and he needed to get Dean's approval before he revealed anything. Instead of answering outright, he said, "What happened last night was unusual…"

"That witch was unusual," Adam stated.

Nodding, Joshua realized he was walking a line here. There were many things in the Brotherhood that he hadn't shared with Nadine, and therefore Adam didn't know. He felt Dean trusted Adam, or he wouldn't have allowed him to accompany Joshua on this hunt. But he still needed to take his cues from Dean on whether he should speak openly about what happened in the field last night. "There are things I cannot discuss because I took an oath. If I can, we'll be able to talk about what happened last night later."

Adam nodded slowly. "I understand. I'm not a member of the Brotherhood, and what is discussed in my presence needs the approval of the Guardian."

Joshua smiled as he nodded. "So why don't we go and check in."

When Caleb rose the next morning, his headache from the last night remained in full force. Sighing, took a shower, hoping the hot water would relax his muscles. Instead the heat had just intensified the ache in his head. He got dressed quietly, not wanting to disturb Onida, and walked into the main room.

"Hey," Raylan said as he folded up the rollaway. "You feeling better?"

"Pretty much," Caleb said. "Dean? Sam?"

"Dean woke up just before dawn, talked some with Sam then fell back to sleep until about twenty minutes ago. Sam helped him back to their room so he could get a shower and they could change. I advised him to wear sweats until those wounds can be treated. Sam's better, but I think he's got a headache."

Caleb looked over at the sofa bed and saw that someone, probably Raylan, had already folded it away. "Thanks, and thanks for waking Sam every hour. Why don't you go get some uninterrupted sleep? I'm going to order breakfast, and I'll have some sent to your room so you can eat before you bed down."

Nodding, Raylan said, "Sounds good. But first, I've got something for you. Be right back."

Caleb leaned against the table and rubbed his neck. He couldn't completely remember being thrown across the field yesterday, but he knew it had been a long way … it felt like a long way. But he remembered some of the fight, and how fast the Dragon's Talon had countered the witch's spells. The blade seemed to have had a mind of its own; his hand appeared to move of its own accord. Maybe if Knights were psychic, the blade acted in perfect conjunction with their abilities. An interesting subject for research. Of course, the blade had been lost to the Brotherhood for over a hundred years before he'd found it. But maybe there would be some mention in Knightly Journals written prior to Wilmington's Triad. Daniel Wilmington, Cole Tanner and Samuel Colt had buried the blade along with many other Brotherhood artifacts, supernatural items and equipment when hunters threatened to overthrow their leadership. He, Dean, Sam and Joshua had averted another such takeover. Now, the Dragon's Talon was once more in the hands of the Knight of the Brotherhood. He didn't really know how fast his arm had been moving, he hadn't focused on it. He'd just abandoned himself to a single-minded determination to get to Piruz. But he knew it had been fast. It would have been unsettling if he hadn't known the blade was crafted by Merlin himself.

A soft knock sounded and Caleb went over to open the door. Raylan was standing outside holding out a box. "This was the box Kace and I found before we were attacked."

Caleb took the box. "Thanks. Now get some sleep. We'll reconvene this afternoon."

Raylan nodded and disappeared down the hallway.

Giving his neck another massage, Caleb went to the phone and ordered up some food; for the team, and another meal for Raylan to be delivered to his room.

While he waited, Caleb studied the new box. Putting it beside the others, he looked from lid to lid. He could detect some differences between them, but only minor. They were situated in the glyphs around the corners. Were the differences by design, or because different people carved the boxes? When these boxes were made, machines hadn't existed. So each box would have been individually carved. Thus, were the changes deliberate, or due to the skill of different hands? He wasn't a language expert, so Sam and maybe Brian would need to check them out. Suddenly he frowned. Three, there were differences in only three of the boxes. Two were the same; exactly. He sighed. All he had were questions, questions and more questions. Lifting one finger, he touched the top of each box and frowned: they were warm, all of them. Why? Yup, more questions.

Another knock at the door signaled the arrival of breakfast. Caleb pulled the cart filled with delicious breakfast plates into his room and shut the door. Eyes widening suddenly, he yanked back open the door and handed the waiter a tip, apologizing profusely as he did so. Closing the door again, he leaned against it with his eyes closed. He hurt all over, and his head felt fuzzy. He didn't have a concussion, but he felt like he did.

"I need to give you another once over," Onida said from the door of their bedroom, her expression worried.

Caleb smiled and stepped away from the door. "Morning. I'm fine. Just feel achy."

"You forgot to tip the waiter," Onida pointed out. "You never forget to tip. It's been ingrained in you since you were a kid."

"My head hurts," Caleb admitted. "And my body aches all over."

"Then let me give you another healing," Onida insisted. "Last night," she shook her head, "I was so tired, I didn't fully heal you. I need to set it straight."

"You need to heal Dean."

"And I will. But now," Onida stood aside and motioned for the bedroom, "Get inside."

Caleb grinned.

"And not for that," Onida stated.

Caleb chuckled as he walked into their bedroom and dropped onto the bed. Stretching out, he closed his eyes and sighed.

Onida knelt atop the mattress, closed her eyes and focused on healing the sore muscles and bruises Caleb had gotten when he'd been thrown so far. His body was one, long bruise. When she got nearer his head, she frowned. The spiraling cells she'd stabilized twice now were again, misfiring. "What the…" she murmured. Focusing hard, she healed and stabilized the cells yet again, making sure they were functioning properly before she sat back and opened her eyes.

Caleb had fallen asleep as she worked, and she stared down at him, frowning. She wondered if Sam's cells were in as much disarray as Caleb's. Climbing gingerly off the bed, she wrote Caleb a note saying she'd gone to check on Sam and Dean, picked up her keycard and slipped quietly out of the bedroom.

Once she was in the hallway, she stepped next door. She'd just raised her hand to knock on Sam and Dean's door when loud voices had her turning to see a man and woman coming down the hall, arguing vehemently.

"We shouldn't have come," the man was saying. "Now the business is suffering."

"I asked if you wanted to and you said yes," the woman hissed. "If you didn't want to get away, why didn't you say so?"

The couple stopped talking abruptly when they reached Onida, but started again as soon as they had passed by. Onida knocked on Sam and Dean's door wondering why they'd bothered to stop in the first place.

Sam opened the door and smiled. "Hey, Onida. How's Caleb?"

"He was achy this morning," Onida said, stepping inside, "but I did another round of healing and now he's asleep."

Sam frowned. "Another round?"

"I guess I was more tired than I thought last night." Looking up into the taller hunter's face, Onida was concerned with the dark bruising beneath his eyes and the pallor of his skin. "How's your head?"

"Concussion, but around dawn Raylan said I was fine to sleep. I got a couple hours, but could use a bit more, I guess," Sam said, running a hand across his face.

Onida raised a hand and wiggled her fingers in the air. "May I?"

Sam took a small step back. "I'd rather you check Dean first. Those wounds…" he shook his head. "They're pretty deep."

"I will. I just want to double check your concussion, all right?"

Sighing, Sam walked over to a chair and sat down.

Onida touched his head, letting her energy reach out, and wasn't surprised to find Sam's mind in the same state of disarray as Caleb's. Misfiring neurons, cells spiraling slightly, she focused on steadying their functions just as she had the other day. While she was there, she steadied Sam's blood pressure and helped to heal his concussion. Slowly, she pulled her energy away and stepped back. When she looked, Sam's skin color had improved and his eyes had lost their pinched look. "There we go," she said.

Sam watched her, frowning. "What's going on?"

"I just…"

There was a crash in the other room, and Sam swore as he darted through the bedroom into the bathroom. Onida could hear Sam and Dean's low voices, and a few minutes later Sam came out, shaking his head.

"Idiot." Looking up, Sam explained. "He tried to get out of the shower by himself. Fell and knocked over all the trays on the vanity.

Onida smiled. "Men."

"Hey!"

Onida laughed. "You're all the same; think you're invincible."

"Not all of us," Sam said, watching Onida closely. "Why did you want to check my concussion? I'd already said it was fine. Something else is going on."

Onida looked past Sam to their bedroom, then motioned for him to follow her to the couch. Once they were seated, she said, "Before, when you and Caleb were affected by whatever was affecting David Lassiter, your brain cells were misfiring, spiraling almost out of control."

Sam nodded. "From what you described to Ben, he said our parietal and occipital lobes were damaged somehow, impairing the visual and information processing routes of the brain. You healed that."

Onida nodded. "I did. But I've had to heal Caleb of that same thing again twice now, and you once."

Sam's widened in surprise. "What?"

Nodding again, Onida repeated, "I've had to heal you of that again. Whatever made that happen before, it's still happening."

"But…"

Dean walked gingerly from out of the bedroom still dressed in his sweats, a towel draped over his shoulders. Smiling, he said, "Hey, Onida."

"You don't look like you're feeling great."

"I've had worse," Dean said, shrugging.

"Come on," Onida said, "back into the bedroom. I want you comfortable while I take care of those wounds." She followed Dean and watched while he climbed slowly onto the bed. "Next time, dodge faster."

Dean huffed out a short laugh. "Tell the magic weapons to keep on a straight trajectory and you've got a deal."

Onida smiled and said, "Okay, lay back and relax. Close your eyes, focus on breathing and let me do my thing."

Holding out her hands, Onida let the energy she had pooled in her core flow out through her hand, healing the puncture wound in Dean's side, then the one on his chest before she had to stop.

"Here," Sam said, handing Onida a cold half sandwich that had been in his mini fridge from the day before. Looking down at his brother, he noted that Dean had fallen asleep. His breathing was nice and even, his face relaxed.

Onida took the sandwich, though she was worried she couldn't heal all Dean's wounds without needing a break.

Sam watched Onida a moment, before he asked, "Trouble?"

"No, not really, I guess," Onida said under her breath, not wanting to disturb Dean. "Well, maybe. I was troubled that I needed a breather. But I suppose I expended a lot of energy last night, then healed Caleb twice, then you, and now Dean. Maybe I just need to recharge more fully."

"Is that a lot for you?" Sam asked.

"Truthfully? Not really," Onida admitted. "I would work the canvas for hours at a time, and that was the full spectrum of energy."

Dean shifted slightly and Onida returned to her work, healing the wound in Dean's shoulder. When she finished, she and Sam left the bedroom, closing the door.

"Come on," Onida said. "There's breakfast over on our room, and right now, you and I are the only ones awake enough to eat it. We can talk there."

After scribbling Dean a note, they reconvened in Caleb and Onida's suite. Taking covered plates of eggs and hash browns, biscuits and fruit from the tray, they sat down at the table.

"So," Sam said, frowning. "My brain and Caleb's brain are still out of whack even after your healing us."

Onida nodded, taking a bite of her scrambled eggs.

Sam's eyes went to the four boxes sitting on the desk. "Do you think the boxes could be doing something to us?"

"No," Onida said. "Nothing is emanating from the boxes."

"But the wood is absorbing energy from whatever is inside, right?" Sam clarified. "You sure it couldn't be emitting something too?"

"No, I checked."

Sam nodded. "Is whatever this is affecting you too?"

Onida didn't answer immediately. "Maybe. I just don't have the energy I used to. But then, I'm not using it every day like I was before. Maybe I'm a little out of shape."

Sam frowned as he continued to eat. That didn't sound like Onida. Last year she'd fought against the witches in the forest, and she hadn't engaged them physically for over forty years. She was barely winded. Something wasn't tracking.

Onida watched him for a moment, then asked, "You have an idea?"

"I'm not sure." Sam took another bite, sorting out his thoughts. Finally, he said, "When David Lassiter said the fight broke out at the club in Mount Vernon, he thought that was because the box was opened. But we've ruled that out because when he did open the box, his body went haywire. If Piruz had opened the box in the club, he would have had the same reaction then."

"Okay, I'm following you," Onida said.

"Caleb and I were affected by the aftereffects of the box on David's body, but like him, we weren't affected by simply being around the box."

"So the boxes aren't the reason for whatever is happening to your brains?" Onida asked, frowning.

"Closed, they're not," Sam clarified.

"Then what are the boxes for?" Onida asked.

There was a knock on the door, and Sam hurried over to open it so Caleb wouldn't wake. Joshua, Adam and Daniel were standing outside.

Stepping aside, Sam said, "Come on in. Caleb ordered breakfast."

Joshua's eyes swept the room before he asked, "Where is he?"

"He wasn't feeling well, so I did a healing tune-up," Onida said with a smile. "He's asleep in the bedroom."

While Adam and Daniel went to the cart to get their breakfasts, Joshua stuck his head into the bedroom to check on Caleb.

Sam smiled. He couldn't have imagined some thirty years ago that Joshua and Caleb would develop such a brotherly bond. But he was glad they had.

Joshua came to the table with his breakfast plate and popped off the plastic top.

Onida glanced at Sam, wondering if he still wanted to continue their conversation. Just then Joshua said, "What were you two talking about?"

Sam chuckled while Onida laughed, then Onida explained about having to heal Caleb and Sam multiple times and Sam explained where he was heading about the boxes.

"So, if the boxes didn't set off the violence, what did?" Daniel asked.

Joshua frowned. "It may have been Piruz activating the boxes rather than the boxes themselves that resulted in the elevation of chaos. Frankly, mankind doesn't need much of a push to be violent."

"So," Sam said slowly, "we've got Piruz doing a circle around the country. He's placing boxes in certain cities, and then possibly setting off a firestorm of violence by activating them. My question is, why no violence in Mount Vernon or Huntsville?"

"Maybe because in Mount Vernon the box was removed, and so was the box in Huntsville," Adam said.

"That's why the boxes are now cemented to the ground," Daniel said, taking a bite of his hash browns. "I don't know why they're getting warm all of a sudden," he mumbled.

"If the boxes are the anchor for his spell…" Sam began before suddenly halting mid sentence. Eyes going to Joshua, he asked, "Can someone doing a spell activate the spell before the entire circle is completed?"

Joshua's eyes narrowed. "Yes, it's possible. But he would only have a short window to close the circle before the entire spell would collapse and dissipate."

Sam's eyes went to the boxes. "I bet that's why the boxes are warm," he said. "We've been tracking him and messing with the boxes. So he's already activated the spell." Looking to Joshua again, he asked, "For a spell of this size, how long before the spell dissipates if he doesn't finish it?"

Joshua lifted his shoulders slightly. "I've never seen something like this. But, if I were to guess, I'd say no more than three, maybe four days."

Sam stood. "He's already on his way to Raleigh. He has to place the boxes there. Then he's got one more stop before he finishes the spell. New York. We need to leave."

"We can't keep chasing him across the country with no real plan to stop him," Daniel said.

Joshua nodded his head in agreement. "If he's placing boxes, they're cloaked and locked down. We wouldn't be able to retrieve them. What we need to do is figure out a way to slow him down, and stop him."

"We need to break up into teams."

Everyone turned around to see Caleb standing in the bedroom doorway, his face pale but otherwise determined.

"What do you mean, break into teams?" Sam asked suspiciously.

"One team is assigned to dog Piruz, pick a fight, slow him down," Caleb said, walking over to the cart and picking up a plate of lukewarm food. Sitting at the table, he continued, "The other team works on figuring out what spell he's doing, what the boxes say, and how to stop him."

"We're not splitting up," Sam declared, his expression resolute.

"We have to," Caleb countered. "We don't know what spell Piruz is doing, we don't know what's in the boxes or what the lids say, and we don't know how to stop him. We need that information. Hopefully, if we slow him down enough, it'll give us the time we need to find those answers."

No one said anything for a few minutes, as food was eaten more slowly. Finally Joshua said, "How would you divide us into teams?"

Caleb looked around the table, then said, "Joshua and Sam head the brain trust, with Onida and Adam along. Dean and I will take the Dennis the Menace part of the equation, with Daniel and Raylan." When no one spoke, Caleb said, "I'm not saying we split up, physically. When you guys find out about the spell, we'll all need in on the ground floor. I'm just saying that instead of everyone going into the field, half the team goes while the other half continues to work on the puzzle."

Finally, Sam only said, "Dean needs to be here."

Caleb nodded. "Agreed. Tell me what you figured out about the box lids."

Piruz grimaced in pain as he drove his Hennessey toward Raleigh. His body ached from the spell thrown at him, and he hadn't had the time to heal the wound in his shoulder. Guns were a newer development for him, and he thought his spell would have stopped all the bullets. One had gotten through and lodged in his shoulder. Merlin's Child was an excellent shot.

After the battle last night, he needed to take time to recover from the drain of the spell someone had thrown at him. It wasn't Merlin's Child, that much he knew. And it wasn't Merlin's Warrior, though his power had been enormous. How he had countered every spell thrown his way had been impressive. He would need to find out more about that blade the young Warrior had wielded. It had to have been crafted by Merlin himself, wily old man. But no, the spell had been thrown by someone else, someone powerful. He would need to find out more about that man. His power was worrying, and he was too close to his goal to be stopped now.

Yes, he had carefully planned for this day, had picked this era specifically for its self-involved citizenry. But he would make mankind better. That half of them would die was regrettable. But those that remained would thank him, of that he had no doubt. He hoped Merlin's Warriors would survive. He thought they would have much in common if given the chance.

After taking time to gather his possessions, he'd left the home in which he'd been staying and got on the road. It was unfortunate he needed to drive during the daylight hours. There were more enforcers of the law patrolling the highways during the day. He needed to curb his speed in order to make his destination, and that was yet another irritation. But when he reached the city of his choice, he would take the time to heal the shoulder and regain his strength. Merlin's people would not know where he was, there were many cities and towns in this era. By the time they searched his chosen city in this province, he would have moved on.

He'd already cloaked the boxes from magical tracking, and he'd set the spell in motion. With the setting of the spell, the boxes locked into place, ready for the proper time. Yes, his plan was coming along, and Merlin's Guard would not be able to stop him. This time, the world would be at his feet and they would thank him for saving them.

Dean didn't like the idea of dividing until Caleb explained they would only be splitting up in the job focus sense, not geographically. "We're all going to Raleigh. It's just you and I are in charge of pissing off Piruz while they find out how to stop him."

"When are we leaving?"

"When Adam gets back from turning in his rented SUV. I've found a van that will allow the brain trust to work as they travel without getting a stiff neck." Caleb grabbed his laptop and pulled up a bookmarked page. "It's called a Vivaro Tourer. I already had them install a desk in the middle, and Sam, Joshua and Adam can work on the translation and the spell while Onida or Raylan drive."

Dean squinted at the computer screen until Sam handed him his readers. Grunting, he put them on and stared. Slipping them off again, he asked Caleb, "You can get this?"

"Yup. Adam and Raylan are ready to pick it up."

Dean felt his hackles rise. Everyone had discussed all this while he'd been asleep. Yeah, Caleb tended to run the show on the ground during a hunt, but he hated feeling like he was playing catch up. That's the way he'd felt pretty much this entire hunt.

"You'd lost a lot of blood last night," Sam stated, watching his brother and knowing what he was thinking. "You needed the rest, and we need you up and strong."

Forcing himself to quit being selfish, Dean gave Sam a grudging nod. It was the hunt that mattered, not him. Focusing on the task at hand, he said, "We know Piruz is headed to Raleigh. We need to call him out. Any ideas on how to do that?"

"We've been tracking him already," Caleb stated. "I don't believe he'll deviate from his pattern, not in the home stretch."

"So we dog his footsteps and force him away from the places he wants to hide his boxes," Dean stated.

"You'll want the locations of clubs again," Sam said, opening his laptop and typing in entertainment in Raleigh.

It was Joshua saying, "I can track his magic," that captured everyone's attention. "He's a powerful crafter. I can track that power."

Suddenly Dean's eyes twinkled, "Can you do the neat trick with the talking light?"

"I'll work on it," Joshua said with a smile.

A loud crash from the hallway accompanied by loud voices intruded on their conversation. Caleb rose, opened the suite door and looked out. When he unexpectedly hurried away, Dean, Sam, and Daniel went after him.

Down the hallway, four men and three women were shouting at one another in front of the elevator. Caleb was pulling one man back while a woman was hitting him with her hand carry. Dean ran for a man who was about to knock Caleb over the head with his briefcase and subdued him, tying his hand behind his back with his own necktie. Daniel and Sam were pulling two women apart while the third was vigorously jabbing the elevator button, obviously in a hurry to get on. Another man was about to shove the woman at the elevator panel aside when Daniel grabbed him and hit him on the jaw, pulling his punch enough so the man went down but wasn't knocked out. Dean grabbed the woman near the elevator, pulling her back while grabbing the collar of the man near her. He was seriously concerned people would fall inside in a heap and possibly get caught in the elevator door.

Then Onida was there, sending out soothing waves of energy and calming the heightened feelings and anger.

When things had settled down somewhat, Caleb lifted the man bound with the tie and exclaimed, "Are you all right? What the hell?"

"I was just trying to get down to the lobby," the man stated, brushing off his slacks and grabbing his luggage. "That man attacked me."

"I did no such thing," the accused proclaimed. "I was merely attempting to push the down button."

"It was already pushed!" shouted a third man.

"You were just trying to cut in line," said a woman who was attempting to straighten her hair.

"Shut up!" Dean hollered. Glowering, he pointed at two of the men and said, "You two. Get your things and your partners and go to the elevator at the other end of the hall." When one of the men started to protest, Dean growled in his coldest drawl, "Don't make me tell you twice."

The two couples grabbed their bags and hurried away.

Turning his gaze on the remaining three, Dean continued, "As for you. When the elevator gets to the floor, get on in an orderly fashion and don't speak to anyone until you check out. Got it?"

One woman opened her mouth, the closed it again as Dean fixed her with a cold stare. Instantly she nodded.

Sam was trying hard not to smile as he watched his brother take down these very aggravating people. Daniel had walked off, his shoulders shaking.

"Good." Stepping back a foot, he gave them his most charming smile. "You have a great stay at the Hilton." Then he turned and walked away, followed by Caleb, Onida and Sam.

When they got back into Caleb's room, Onida's laughter filled the room, lightening the spirits of all those inside. "That was … the best!" she giggled.

"I've never seen anyone in a nice end hotel act that way before," Daniel stated, a broad smile on his face. "First time for everything."

Daniel's words hung in the room a moment, a punctuated highlight of observation.

"First time for everything," Caleb murmured.

"We've never seen anyone in a nice end hotel act that way before," Sam repeated. Staring at his brother and Caleb, he said, "It's an affect of the spell Piruz started."

Onida frowned. "People having an argument?"

"A pretty extreme argument," Daniel commented.

"Chaos," Dean said abruptly, his eyes on Sam. "When David Lassiter called, he said that when his man asked Piruz what he wanted, Piruz said chaos."

Joshua stood suddenly. "Odette said it too; Mayhem."

"That's what is being unleashed," Sam said, pacing around the room. "Chaos. People are acting unnaturally, more aggressively." Turning suddenly to Joshua, he asked, "Is there a spell for that? Maybe when Piruz set the boxes, he needed to prime them with a smaller spell in order to tie them to the larger spell."

"And that's why there was violence in the cities," Caleb said.

Joshua frowned. In his studies of ancient magics growing up, he thought he remembered an old spell about violence, bedlam, confusion. "I believe there's an ancient spell about chaos," he said slowly. "In my crafter training, mother made sure I learned the history of magic and the older spells as well. No one uses them anymore."

"Do you remember reading about any sort of chaos inducing spell in your Brotherhood studies?" Sam asked, avoiding an overt mention of the Adviser journals or Joshua's studies in Triad magic.

"Not that I've come across," Joshua said, knowing exactly what Sam was asking. Going to one of the open computers, he began typing.

As he worked, the others paced the suite, waiting. Sam walked over and picked up a rubbing of the box lid, fighting the urge to search the Internet himself. But this was Joshua's area of expertise; he would know where to look. Caleb and Dean went for more coffee while Onida dropped onto the couch and Daniel leaned against the wall. Finally, Joshua said, "This may be it. I'll need to search further, make sure this is the only spell." Turning to face the others, he said, "It's very old. I'd need to examine its components, but there is a spell for inciting chaos."

There was a knock on the door, and when it was opened, Adam and Raylan walked in. "The Tourer is downstairs," Adam said.

"It's pretty amazing," Raylan stated. "I want to ride in it."

"What about the truck?" Daniel griped, then added, "Maybe I want to drive it too."

Raylan chuckled.

"There's plenty of room," Adam agreed. Looking around the room, he sensed something had happened while they were gone. "What going on?"

"There have been some breakthroughs," Joshua said.

Caleb looked to Joshua and said, "You've got a lot of work to do," he eyed Sam, "you both do. Let's get our things and get going."

"Not yet," Dean said, effectively stopping everyone in their tracks. "There's one thing we need to do first."

Sam frowned. "What?"

"Open the box."

.

TBC