A/N; Last chapter, can't believe that I finally put this one to bed! Thank you to all reviewers and those who added alerts, you really gave me a boost of confidence to break that writers block. Thanks again guys - hope you enjoy! Abi.
Sympathy for the Devil- CH 14
"I know some people say that I'm the devil in disguise, I won't try to tell you that I ain't. I don't like believing that I'm evil in your eyes but I ain't make believing I'm a saint." – Kris Kristofferson, 'Shake hands with the Devil.'
Watching the young blonde boy attempt to reason gently with his unresponsive son was an acute role reversal in Mackland Ames' mind. It drew him back through the years, to the boys first meeting, and then a later point at Pastor Jim's farm when Caleb had the first real breakthrough connecting with the then traumatised, five year old Dean. Mac's heart ached as he watched them. But Dean's presence appeared to have a calming effect on Caleb's dangerously erratic emotional state and he would not risk the fragile balance the younger boy had restored.
The young psychic was still way too close to the ledge for the Doctor's liking, both literally and figuratively. But then Ames' fears would not be quieted until he could put his arms round Caleb and comfort him, himself. Right now, as he edged slowly towards the murmured conversation in front of him, he had to keep a tight rein on his own compulsion to sweep in.
"It's alright Damien; maybe you don't hear anything because they are gone? Maybe Dad got to his target?" Dean supplied in a reasonable tone.
Caleb shook his head tersely, his glassy gaze fixed on the floor.
From somewhere Mac could hear a mobile ringing, the tone sounded vaguely familiar.
Without looking up and in a disembodied monotone that seemed resigned to only one course of action, Reaves whispered something to Dean.
"What was that? Damien? What... was that?" the boy urged gently drawing closer to the older youth.
Reaching out a tentative hand Dean swabbed away the blood trickling down his friend's nose. Tears sprang in his eyes at the definite flinch in the other boy. His unshakable protector had taken so much in silence had suffered so much alone to protect his family. It scared Dean more than a little seeing this broken side of Caleb, the one he kept so well hidden by masking his pain with the need to stop the hurt of others. Whether he'd ever admit it to the meat head or not …. the older boy crouched foetal style in front of him, was one of Dean's hero's. After all Caleb had lived through, Dean was terrified of what this latest episode and yet another death of someone connected with him, would do to Damien. Even Superman had chinks in his armour.
Dean knew that he didn't have Pastor Jim's way with words, he didn't have Mac's psychology know how, he didn't have Bobby's experience of practical coping methods – and whatever black straps meant? Hell he didn't even have the heart to holler at Caleb and demand that the exposed soul in front of him "suck it the hell up" like his Father may have done. So he did the one thing that every nerve in his body had wanted to do ever since Damien had walked on to the balcony; he leaned in and threw his arms round his best friend and growled something fiercely, with his mouth close to Damian's ear. The reaction was immediate as Caleb clung to Dean in response; his shaking shoulders the only give away as to how hard he was crying.
Mac realised that, the "far-away" familiar sound was in fact the mobile in his pocket and answered it swiftly brushing away salt water and coughing gruffly before answering.
"Yes Joh... Your where? Is Joshua alright did she...? "
The Scholar's face reddened but he let out a sigh of relief that another member of their group had not been lost.
"Yes – Caleb is fine, but John..."
Mac glanced one last time at the two friends huddled protectively round each other and decided to take his report to the knight in doors. On his way in doors he passed close by the body of Perkins and gently lowered the dead hunter's lids.
We've lost Perkins. I think it best if you all come back as soon as Joshua gets the all clear."
As he walked over to sit on the bed Ames listened to the Knights further instructions about how to "handle" the repercussions of their run in with the Witch, but he couldn't draw his eye away from Perkins' too still form.
/
Ceilings held a curious fascination when you came to. As your mind met the waking world again, and tentatively took in the sights, the view of the sameish landscape of the roof over your head always held the promise that your world had not, in fact caved in for the last time. Although the radiating soreness in every inch of his body and the headache that promised to hold the same commitment to him as an old married couple celebrating their diamond wedding anniversary; helped Reaves realise that he was in the land of the living just as thoroughly. Even if he wasn't the most convincing specimen.
He moved his gaze slowly, willing his head not to roll off his neck, as his malfunctioning psychic abilities informed him he was not alone and then promptly blinked off, leaving him to guess who the visitor was. He took in the gentle smile and the relief behind the older man's warm smile and was a little startled at who they belonged to.
"Jo-J-Johnny?" he rasped in a voice that sounded like Kermit after he'd been doing whiskey, gravel shots all night.
His mentor shook his head knowingly and laid a surprisingly tender hand on his upper arm.
"Easy Junior, I won the coin toss to wait on your sleepy ass, by throwing my weight and position around. But I'm pretty sure if I let you strain yourself, or pull a fingernail; your Daddy will have my ass!"
The teasing smile slipped a little at the edges and Caleb received another jolt of psychic insight into just how scared John had actually been for him. He watched the other man continue talking, in something like dumbstruck amazement.
"I argued with your Dad over the timing of this, but de-briefing after any event or mission is a priority. Especially one which risked..."
"The Brotherhood..." Caleb supplied softly his head hanging in shame at the threat that he had not only exposed them all to but the danger he had potentially posed himself.
"Now that right there son, is why Dean always gets the extra cookie... Don't interrupt! I was going to say – it risked one of us; one of our own family."
"It cost one of us... I cost one of us, John. I kept quiet – again, and someone died...again." Caleb couldn't keep the tremor out of his voice as he confessed his stupidity to the Knight.
John surveyed the haggard looking young man in the bed before him. He had seen where this kind of self recrimination led. He'd also experienced it first hand in the war... Caleb needed more than just a hug and a band-aid. Right now he needed absolution, and something to focus on. John could administer both far more effectively than either of the other two Triad members, because when all was said and done the Knight was the strong arm of the Brotherhood; and he was the Knight because of the type of ruthless bastard he could be.
"Perkins loss was a blow to us all, kid – I don't intend to flog you any-more than you seem intent on doing to yourself. But – if you've learned something from it – then it was not in vain."
"I got a hunter killed John. What possible comfort can his family draw from my stupidity?" Caleb's voice trembled dangerously as a tear slipped past his very best defences.
John sighed realising that he would not win this one the easy way and there was no way in hell he was losing Caleb to this.
"What do you want to hear kid? It's a tough gig. Perkins knew this he racked up and took it out anyway, because he believed in what we do! Do you want me to tell you, you screwed up? Fine – you screwed the pooch Junior... what the hell are you going to do about it?"
The Knight watched the words drive into the young man before him like shrapnel from a claymore, twisting deeply into his soul because they were delivered from such close range. He watched as the pain gave way to a fire that sparked behind those golden eyes which had always looked at him like he was a superhero. He watched as it finally, slowly, dawned on his protégée that being the Knight was not all shining armour. More often, it was cold hard sacrifice, and none was colder or harder than the sacrifices of those closest to you for the cause you championed.
Hating himself that fraction more Winchester delivered the final blow.
"What did Perkins die for Caleb? Once you can answer that for yourself – then you're ready to join the ranks, and fill the void created today."
John's voice was steady, neutral and in utter contrast to the feelings of shame clawing at his insides. But he had to channel Caleb's guilt and direct it, before Caleb turned it on himself. Reaves was necessary to the Brotherhoods future, and though he loved the boy like he was his own blood – readying him for what lay ahead of him was the best he could do for the kid now.
As the veteran hunter got up to leave he avoided looking at the boy. He needed a drink, he needed a shower – he needed to get out from under the weight of the unshed tears he knew instinctively Caleb was fighting to hold back. He was a bastard, but he was the bastard that would keep his family prepared for whatever the other side could throw at them. He might lose Junior's admiration, but to lose the boy himself was more than John could bear. Sometimes John wondered a little if the harshest demons in their lives were those they themselves created.
The best he could hope for was that Junior would be able to look back at this one day and realise that it was the only way John knew how to do things …. He prayed that someday, Caleb and his boys would understand enough to be able to forgive him.