One week earlier.
If there was one thing the twelve-year-old child relished with all of his heart and soul, it was getting the chance to do something that he loved. Something that also succeeded in ridding him of the access energy that was pent-up after a long day of doing nothing but sitting in a long class while his mind was with the training that he loved to do. Being able to wander downstairs into the spacious basement his family reserved for working out when they needed to brush up on their skills, was priceless to the child when he needed all the help he could get at releasing some of that energy. Having the outlet he had to kick, hit, and punch something (or someone) was his drug of choice for those lazy afternoons where he did not have anything to do.
His first choice of trainer was his guardian and confidante, Caleb Rivers. Being able to have someone who he felt completely comfortable confiding even the smallest details of his life, was a weight off his shoulders he never even realized was there before he started feeling comfortable enough to talk to him. Dean was not even sure why he felt as comfortable as he did with his guardian. Perhaps it was because they both had similar pain with losing their family. Or maybe it was because he was able to relate to him on a personal level that few people would ever be able to understand.
Whatever the cause of him feeling relaxed enough to let his walls down for those brief moments where he and Caleb were alone and ready to talk to each other, he felt a release that he knew was vital to him. Caleb was the guardian who put everything aside to run to his side the instant CPS called him to inform him that his father was missing. Caleb was the one who set in motion the right proceedings to get custody of him and Sam. And Caleb was the one who carefully trained him in the ways of the supernatural when avoiding telling him the painful truth, simply was not an option any longer.
Even though Dean could hardly remember that cruel time when he was six and having to contend with the truth that monsters did not exist in movies anymore, he was bolstered by the support and confidence Caleb had in him. Although he could no longer live through life living in ignorance of what existed in secret, he was ready to face whatever life threw at him. At the tender age of six, Caleb started the delicate process of introducing him to the world of evil. Training in all things supernatural was one of the first lessons he learned down in the basement. Perfecting a punch, learning kicks, and everything in between dominated his early lessons with Caleb.
The major joy of his life came when Caleb and his other guardian Jim Murphy, decided he was ready to accompany them on a salt-and-burn job. Standing above the dug grave where Caleb pried open the casket with a crowbar, he could not contain his excitement when he was counted on to throw the match. That was when he was seven and still in the early stages of readying himself to do more complicated jobs. Some of those jobs, he learned, would not come until he was much older and able to effectively pull off the right steps needed to do it.
For that moment he contented himself with learning everything he could. Hunting was not simply a hobby he enjoyed where he could also help people. It was also a crucial place for him to abandon some of his anger and frustration. Getting the opportunity to tuck a knife into his belt, and pick up a gun to fire a round at a ghost, was special to him. Hunting was a way for him to release his anger and get the job done. Without it, Dean had no clue where he would be. Certainly he would not have the chance to see things that most people only dreamed about in their nightmares.
One other purpose his daily training sessions with Caleb accomplished, was teaching him how to use his unique "gift" as Jim called it. When he was five and had been kidnapped by demons from the courthouse where Caleb was trying to convince a judge to give him custody, he developed the rare gift of being able to project a force-field around those he shared a strong emotional connection to. When the demon was about to launch an attack at Caleb from behind, Dean could feel himself panic at the thought of losing him. When that emotional tether was knit in place, he could feel something come from him and expand to wrap around Caleb.
At the time, he could remember feeling confused about why he was able to do something so powerful. Once Bobby and Caleb further investigated the origin behind his new-found ability, they discovered through a special connection to them, that this was only born out of a child desperate enough to protect those he or she loved. Although rare, the ability to create a force-field around those people, was important for those who lived in a dangerous world. For Dean, it was the chance to keep his loved ones safe when he finally did learn the truth about his legacy as a hunter.
The one aspect of the gift that he found himself frustrated with, was his inability to shield himself with it. Although he knew the ability worked exceptionally well with those he wanted to keep safe, he could not make it work inward to go around himself. If he was going to grow in his ability, learn how to make it retreat backwards to allow its owner the chance for protection, he would have to train harder to make it possible. For some reason, that was the one thing that ended up being nearly impossible for him to do.
Walking down the stairs after school with his backpack slung over his shoulder, he could feel the smile grace his face when he realized what he was about to do. Grinning when he noticed Sam lounging on the sofa that was pushed back against the wall, he made a point of going over and punching him in the shoulder. At nearly nine-years-old Sam already held knowledge of what his family did when they went out someplace. It was because his brother found the journal their dad started keeping before he died. When that happened and his brother started questioning him about the things he could not help, he knew his brother's blissful innocence was now shattered with that revelation.
"Hey, dude," Dean said, turning away from his brother to get the workout equipment out of the storage bin they used.
Sam looked up from the book he was reading. His expression was carefully arranged into one of a mild curiosity at the afternoon events. Dean had to remember that Sam's knowledge of the supernatural only came recently. His little brother was still struggling to figure out how he should feel about what he found out, and how he could stay safe. It made his older brother fervently wish he could hold the answers, that he could figure out a way to keep Sam safe from the numerous horrors in the world.
Caleb was going to start working with Sam once he felt more comfortable with what he found out. In the meantime, both Caleb and Dean were determined to provide as much emotional support for the traumatized child as they could. Sam was able to recover from the initial shock of finding out something that was as unexpected as that, but he was grappling with the world that he had no clue even existed. In his expressive eyes, Dean was able to pick up a look of anger and even fear.
"Hi," Sam said, putting his book aside. "What are you doing?"
"Getting ready to tap dance. Answer your question?" Dean deadpanned.
Sam narrowed his eyes at him in that way he did when he knew Dean was teasing him. "No you're not. You're working out."
"Then why did you ask?" Dean demanded, the seriousness of his tone was lost when it was intercepted by a laugh.
Sam shrugged and hopped off the couch. His movements were faster than Dean's, and he owed that to his little brother not being as sore as him after doing a salt-and-burn the previous night. Now that Sam held knowledge of what his family did for the people they told him they were helping, he was more attuned to the concern he felt for them when they left. When they prepared themselves to walk out of the house the previous night, Sam begged to be allowed to go until Caleb finally relented and let him tag along with them so he would know what to do.
Having Sam riding with them to the empty graveyard was a jolt for Dean when he had to remember that Sam needed to know what to do to protect himself. It was the same thing he ended up having to reconcile himself to when he first started training. Being in the life was hard most of the time, but it was made easier with the love and support that came from their guardians on a daily basis.
"Are you going out again tonight?" Sam asked, ignoring Dean's question. Sam was standing on the bottom step, ready to go up and start his homework.
"Probably," Dean said with a shrug. "Evil doesn't necessarily operate on a timeline, bro."
Sam seemed to take that comment to heart. He watched as he paused in his movements, a frown on his face when he thought about the danger his family was putting themselves in by doing something so reckless. For someone who was very new to this kind of life, Dean could understand what it must have felt like to him.
"What are you...what are you going to do?"
"Salt-and-burn some mean nasty spirit bones. The sucker's been making meals out of his poor family for the last hundred or so years. We're gonna swing by the grave and make sure he won't ever do that kind of crap again."
Traveling to the graveyard and performing a ritual that he had become very good at, was almost like second nature to Dean. It was nothing to help Caleb or Jim dig up a grave and then hold the flashlight steady while they jumped down into the grave to pry open the casket. The tricky part came when the spirit realized what was about to happen, and did its best to hinder them. That was when Dean's ability came in handy when he was able to concentrate on his guardians, and fit the shield around them. The drawback for the ability was in the form of him only being able to shield one of them at a time while the other was forced to go head-to-head with the murderous monster.
"How long have you been working the case?" Sam wondered, a frown appearing on his face.
"Long enough, that's for sure."
Sam nodded to himself before he disappeared up the stairs, his footsteps fading when he hit the kitchen floor and then turned into the carpeted living room. Taking the brief moment of alone time to relax his taxed muscles before he started the workout, he knew he needed it that day. For reasons he could not explain to himself, he was feeling anxious about a report he discovered in the local newspaper that detailed a disappearance in the small town of Carthage, Missouri. This disappearance was being described as one of the most mysterious cold cases the police had in a long time. Finding it in the newspaper that morning before school, his instincts that had been finely tuned by Caleb to spot something like that, was working overtime to connect the dots.
The child was not foolish enough to think they would make the trip just off the newspaper article alone, but he knew they went off less all the time. It was the details of the job that no one else was able to pick up but them. Being able to convince his family that he was mature enough to help on something other than a spirit (and occasional demon problem) would be the big question yet to be answered. It was not for lack of reason his family was overprotective of him and Sam when it came to hunting, but he hoped he could convince them that this would be okay.
Hearing Caleb come down the stairs for the start of their workout session that almost always ended up with them getting a heart-to-heart mixed in with the punches and kicks, he felt his bundled up nerves start to relax when they sensed they were about to get their butt kicked. Dean could already feel himself start to react to what was happening around him as he went to turn the lights on brighter, and also arrange some of their gear so it was within easy reach.
When he saw Caleb stride into the room with his AC/DC shirt on prominent display, he felt himself fade into that zone where it was just the two of them and their awesome bond with one another. With Caleb, there was nothing he felt like he could keep from him. With other people, he was quiet and reserved unless he really knew them. With Caleb, he wore his heart on his sleeve and that ability to feel totally okay with that was not anything he was arguing against.
"Hey, bud," Caleb said, walking further into the room where he was.
"Awesome shirt," Dean remarked.
"You like it, huh?" Caleb said, walking over to their chest of supplies to produce the boxing gloves he and Dean always wore during a particularly intense workout.
"It's like you knew my heart was calling to it," Dean said in a mock-dramatic tone.
Following his guardian over to the center of the room where they were guaranteed to be out of the way of any furniture that was in their way, he could feel his heart skip a beat when he thought about doing something that quickly became routine for him. There was nothing more satisfying than understanding the idea of fitting in a clean work-out that exhausted him in the best way possible.
The potential case he found was still resting in the back of his mind. When he explained everything he found out from the revealing article, he knew Caleb would not deny the existence of something happening in Carthage. The only question that would remain would be what sort of involvement he would have in the case. Not willing to think about getting his hopes dashed before he even got the chance to prove himself on a job like that, he shook his head and tried to align his thoughts with this workout.
"Do you think Sam's okay?" Caleb wondered, stepping forward to make sure Dean fit his gloves on tightly enough.
"He's...he's struggling. This is a lot for his nerd brain to take in. He found out our family hunted creepy crawly things for a living, and that our parents died from it. Now his family hunts them? It's confusing."
Caleb nodded slowly while he considered Dean's answer. "I think that about hits the mark. I want to start working with him, but I don't want to push him, you know? I want to give him time to digest all of this."
Dean understood the need for that-it was the same type of feeling he got when he saw how affected Sam was by what he read. It made Dean wish he never left his journal in a place like under his bed where Sam loved to snoop. Although he reasoned that Sam brought his pain on himself by sneaking around his room, he could not blame him for something he knew he would have done if he thought his brother was keeping something from him. Still, having to face Sam being inducted into a brutal and unforgiving world, was horrifying to him when he thought Sam would get to have a few more years before he was faced with it.
Nodding his head to show he agreed with what Caleb was saying, he knew their support would prove to be everything for Sam going forward. The night he found out what his family did, he struggled to hold back his tears of finding something so awful about his family. It was then Caleb was able to step in and be with him privately for a little while while Sam fought through the tears to ask his guardian the kinds of questions Dean knew never should have been on his mind. The last person that should have held that cruel truth, was someone like his little precocious brother.
Not allowing that thought to sully the workout he was intent on getting in before they left for the graveyard later that night, he disregarded everything in him that dared him to continue to dwell on what was happening with Sam. It was not helpful to fitting in a clean workout, and he would not let anything get in the way of it. When he paused long enough to listen to Sam laughing about something in the kitchen, he felt a smile of his own cross his face at the thought of Sam being able to move past what he found out.
Unfortunately for Dean, Caleb took advantage of the mistake Dean made in looking away from him when they were starting their workout. Dean was in his element as he worked to free himself from the tight grasp Caleb had on him as he tried to flip him on his back. At twelve, Dean was not strong enough to do the same to Caleb, but his guardian taught him plenty of counter-attacks that would produce the same results. Using one that he especially favored, he could see the look of pride in Caleb's face when Dean managed to fairly free himself from the hold Caleb had.
Hardly deterred in his efforts, Caleb rebounded with a sharp right hook to Dean's face with the boxing gloves still firmly snug around both of their hands. Understanding the next best recourse by heart, Dean responded with a swift punch of his own that knocked Caleb back several feet. Grinning at the look of shock on his face, he barely gave Caleb time to recover from the response before he was at it again. The high intensity of the workouts was what Dean lived for when he needed to expel something negative from his spirit. This was what he looked forward to, and being able to show how strong he was was the icing on the cake.
The child's face was dripping with sweat by the time Caleb signaled for a timeout with his hands. It was during the intercession they always took to rest for a minute, that Caleb would propose doing something else with their workouts. That part always jolted Dean when he thought about switching up the remainder of their time in the basement. Usually, they would switch from the high-intensity hand-to-hand combat, to working on something a little less strenuous that normally included working on his shield.
"Giving up so easily?" Dean taunted, falling back against the sofa. Reaching for his energy drink, he gulped a mouthful of it.
"Just need a breather," Caleb said. "You're doing amazing, bud. I'm proud of you."
"That's really awesome," Dean said, wiping the sweat from his face. "Especially considering my muscles feel like they've been shredded."
He was sore, but in a way that was pleasing to him. Taking another drink from his bottle, he extended a hand behind him and rubbed his throbbing shoulder that was protesting all of the extra stress it had been put under since the night before when he took out the spirit in the grave. Jobs like those where he was required to dig into the ground, always created a sore in his body later on the next day.
"From digging last night?" Caleb guessed.
"I guess so," Dean answered with a shrug.
Caleb nodded, already well-aware of how physically hard hunting could be on the body. During their workouts together, Caleb also tried to teach Dean how to obey the signals in his body that was telling him when enough was enough. It was a lesson he was grateful to have, even if he had a difficult time submitting himself to that knowledge when his brain wanted to keep moving.
"You shouldn't be drinking that sugary stuff, dude."
"Why not?" Dean countered, not resisting it when Caleb pulled Dean's energy drink from him and handed him some water instead.
"Because you're already hyped up from the workout," Caleb patiently explained. "Your heart is already working overtime to keep the rest of you flowing like it should."
"Whatever."
"I was thinking," Caleb proposed. "That we should work a little on your shield. We haven't done that in a few days. I think it would do you some good to see if you can stretch it a little bit further...or inward."
Dean nodded. "Toward me, you mean?"
"Yeah. You've done really super good on protecting us, but you need to be able to do the same for yourself."
Dean did not question the validity of Caleb's statement. The shield served him well in terms of keeping those he loved safe, but he also needed to do it for himself. The shield was designed to protect those based off his emotional attachment to them, but the same person who counseled Caleb and Bobby as to the true meaning behind it, also mentioned that it would be possible for Dean to learn to utilize it for himself if he worked hard enough at it. The problem was Dean was not convinced he had what it took to keep himself safe with it when all of his efforts ended up failing.
"I know. I've tried to. I just can't seem to get the hang of it, you know?"
"I do, but that's why we're going to try something a little different. Bobby got here while you were still at school. I think if we work with it with him for a little bit, you might end up surprising yourself."
The twelve-year-old was game for anything that would improve his skill. Leaning forward on the couch while Caleb disappeared up the stairs to get Bobby from wherever he was, he could feel his heart beat increase faster at the thought of seeing Bobby. The hunter lived nearly two hours away in Sioux Falls, and usually was able to come see them every other week. During those days when he was able to be there with them, the hunter spoiled Sam and Dean rotten and nearly always pretended to be the innocent party to their manipulation. A charge which Dean happily accepted as long as he could get his hands on the sugary foods and drinks the guys tried their hardest to put a lid on.
Standing up when Bobby appeared in the room with Caleb behind him, he could feel the smile come on his face at seeing him again. This latest separation from Bobby had been one of the longest because of a hunt that took Bobby away from them for much longer than Dean would have liked. Instead of hugging or showing any sort of "love" for them that Dean knew was clearly there, Bobby held out his fist for a fistbump.
It was rare Bobby got to be privy to the details of the workouts his family did. Whenever he did manage to catch a glimpse of everything Dean was able to do thanks to the careful supervision of his guardian, the hunter could hardly contain his enthusiasm that Dean was shaping out to be one of the strongest kids he knew. That was proven to be especially true during the rare times Dean was able to take Bobby head-on.
"You've grown a little since I last saw you," Bobby noted. "Unbelievable."
"No," Dean said, shaking his head. "It's your eyes, old man."
"Old man?" Bobby sputtered. "I'll have you know that-"
"That you're fit as a fiddle?" Caleb surmised. "We know. Anyway, you want to help with something?"
"Depends," Bobby said gruffly. "What?"
Caleb smiled. "You want to kick my ass?"
That was something the hunter did not have to be asked twice about. Happily obliging the chance to step in and provide a mock scenario for Dean to focus on for his shield exercise, the kid shook his head in amusement when he knew the type of relationship Caleb and Bobby shared. Usually they got along, but sometimes they ended up getting on each other's last nerve. Most of the time when they had a spat, Dean and Sam would dissolve into a fit of giggles because of the less than serious nature of most of their arguments.
Concentrating on the job ahead when Caleb gave him the silent go-ahead to assume his position in front of him when Bobby none-too-gently started to throw punches at his guardian that Caleb effortlessly deflected, he could feel his entire body buzz with the energy he could feel coming from him. It was intoxicating to feel the kind of power that emanated from him whenever he used the shield. What was once something scary and intimidating, was now something that challenged him to do better and always ended up fascinating him when he meditated on it.
The shield was mostly invisible other than the nearly undetectable white mist that flowed from him and out toward the people he was wanting to protect. Because of the fact he knew Caleb was not in any real danger, his shield was not as strong during this workout. What made it even that much more challenging for him, was Caleb purposefully stepped back with Bobby to see how far Dean could extend it. Closing his eyes in concentration, he could feel the toll it took on himself to exert himself like he was. Pushing himself further than he ever had before, he felt a weight lift from his shoulders when he opened his eyes and saw the shield reached Caleb from all the way across the room.
What helped Dean be able to perfect that advanced move was being able to focus on his love for Caleb, and how he depended on him. After that, his own determination and sheer-will helped him move the shield further than it ever went before. Attempting to turn the shield on himself when Caleb gave him a nod of permission, he could feel his confidence wane when he could not do it. For some reason, being able to turn the shield inward to envelop him, was much harder than doing it outward toward someone else.
His disappointment must have showed on his face because Caleb stepped around Bobby, and gave him a hug. Molding into his embrace the second he received it, he tried to let go of the irrational part of him that scolded him for not being strong enough to do it on his own body yet. Pulling back from Caleb to look into his loving eyes, he saw nothing reflected but love and pride that he did as well as he did with protecting him.
"I can't believe I failed at that again," Dean remarked bitterly.
"Hey," Caleb chided. "Don't say that, bud. Do you even realize how far you were able to use your shield? I was all the way across the room, and you were able to push it to reach me. That's nothing to be ashamed of, Dean."
"I hate to say it, but he's right," Bobby cut-in. "You can't expect to produce wonders right now when you're only just learning how to work that thing. You'll get it; you'll master turning it on yourself."
Dean hoped Bobby and Caleb would be proven right. He was anxious to be able to prove he had what it took to defend himself in such a unique way.
The night was unusually warm for an early September evening-it was the kind of night that was pleasantly deceptive in the mind of Dean Winchester when he reminded himself that the forecast for the rest of the week promised to be nothing more than a blast of icy coolness straight from his worst nightmare. The colder weather also served to remind him that within the next week, he would be starting school again. Unless, of course, he was allowed to skip the first week back in order to accompany his guardians on the hunt he wanted so desperately to go on. For that one moment, that hunt he had yet to talk to Caleb about, was the furthest thing from his mind.
Walking across the dewy grass that crunched underfoot, he could feel his entire heart and soul brimming with the kind of anticipation that could only be born from the knowledge of going on yet another job. This job would be shorter than most, and would be finished with the salting and burning of the corpse who had been terrorizing his still-living family. Even though he was raised to believe in the total evilness of the supernatural creatures they hunted, he reserved some of his sympathy for the spirits who were simply lost and struggling to find a balance to what happened to them.
With that thought in mind, he quickened his pace so he could put the spirit to rest. The graveyard was eerily quiet that early evening. Ignoring the unease that threatened to pull on his heart, he quietly walked beside Caleb, his hands stuffed in his pocket. The correct grave was located near the end of the enormous cemetery. Carrying their bag of things with them that was slung over one shoulder, he caught his breath coming out in a puff of white mist that reminded him of his special shield. Mentally reminding himself that he might have to use it if the spirit decided to spring a surprise attack on them, he just hoped he would be able to do a better job doing that than what happened earlier during his training session.
Locating the correct grave marker that was adorned with the name and date of death for the unfortunate victim, he paused on an aged picture of the victim that was on the front of the marker. Keeping his light on the name and face of the victim they were putting down, he barely noticed Caleb passing him a shovel to help him with the arduous digging process. Groaning at the thought of putting further strain on his already taxed muscles, he decided to get the job over with before he could do anything else. Assuming a position that was familiar to him after years of performing similar rituals, he and Caleb both took the grave with their shovels. Doing it in pairs was not as hard as doing it by himself, which he knew Caleb did all the time when he went on solo hunts.
"I might've-I might've found a job," Dean remarked once they were close to closing in on the coffin.
"What kind of job?" Caleb asked, lifting his head from where he was trying to ascertain where to stick his crowbar to smash open the coffin.
Taking his time to answer his guardian's question when he could feel something in the air that signaled to him they were not alone, he spun around and shone his flashlight on the parts of the graveyard he could not see so well. Doing night hunts was what made him nervous when he knew anything could happen to them if they were not careful. Relaxing only a little when he could see nothing that alarmed him, he turned back to Caleb.
"It's in Carthage. A disappearance."
"Carthage? As in Missouri?"
Dean nodded slowly. "Isn't that the only Carthage?"
"What else is there besides a disappearance?" Caleb inquired, his face shining with sweat in the glow of the flashlight.
"Nothing, really. I guess this isn't the first time weird crap has happened there."
From the research he was able to put in to the job, he realized that the exact same thing happened the year before. The disappearances seemed to have no connection to one another other than the fact they all happened in the same town. From the limited amount of information that existed for this job, he knew any number of supernatural baddies could have been responsible for such a thing. It was the underlying what that concerned him. It was not often his family had very little to go on other than a few facts scattered through the papers.
"That's really weird," Caleb commented. "I did a job there about a year ago exactly."
"No kidding? Do you think the thing you were hunting got away?"
In the years since he became aware of what Caleb did and shared in the knowledge of his hunts and what happened during them, it was very rare that Caleb would fail to snare the monster he was hunting. When Caleb shook his head, he let out the sigh of relief he was not even sure he was holding before. Soon enough, that sigh of relief was replaced with a raise of his eyebrow when he tried to think about what could have been haunting the town if it was not the thing he was going after in the first place.
"I don't see how, Dean. I hunted that monster down."
"What was it?"
Caleb waited until he smashed through the coffin to answer the question. Understanding what his job would be once Caleb was free from the dangerous grave, he reached in his pocket for the box of matches. His guardian was already dowsing the monster with salt and gas. The smell of which filled Dean's nostrils. Paying no mind to it once he got used to, he waited until Caleb gave him the silent go-ahead to throw the match.
Helping Caleb up from the deep grave, he was about to throw the lighted match when he was roughly thrown back by something. Stumbling to his feet when the initial shock passed through him within seconds, he saw the spirit of the thing they were hunting. His grey skin was glistening in the glow from the moon. Raising his rock salt gun for a shot, his hand was harshly grabbed by the monster who bent the gun out of shape until another blast from behind startled it. Caleb was manning the second gun they had, and was doing his best to stay ahead of the situation.
Throwing Caleb a grateful look at his quick actions that undoubtedly saved him from another round with the furious spirit, he tossed the match before the spirit could do anything else. This spirit was stronger than most, and was able to hold on longer than he gave it credit for. Concentrating on protecting Caleb while they waited for the salt and burn to work its magic, he could feel the wonderful effects of the shield flow from him and go out to eclipse Caleb in its strong hold.
Soon enough, the foolproof method of salting and burning the bones, worked like a charm. Happy that something had been taken off their to-do list and they managed to get out without any serious injuries to speak of, he was glad to be able to walk back to his car in one peace. The question of what Caleb hunted the year before, was still on his mind. In a part of his mind that was not consumed with the hunt they just completed, he could remember Caleb telling him what he thought the monster was at the time.
"The monster I was hunting?" Caleb said, once they reached their car and climbed inside. "It was a ghoul."
"Oh," Dean said, giving himself time to think about the serious nature of a job like that. "So can I go?"
It did not matter to him what the job was. What mattered to him was finding the thing and putting it down.
