Demon Trackers: The Anointed

part twenty-four

The shaggy head tilted upward, large eyes glimmering in the fire’s glow within the ash-caked face.

“Wha…happen--?” Cal moaned, the muscles in his face tightening in pain, cracking lines in the dried dirt coating his features.

“Hey, easy. C’mere.” Henry shifted Cal up higher, pulling him against his side, tucked beneath his protective arm, head on his chest. At the movement, Jake stirred, readjusting his position closer against Cal’s leg.

Cal moved his head just enough to see what was moving against him. “Is Jake okay?”

Henry smiled. “Hurt his ankle. He’ll be fine.”

“And you’re okay?” But before Henry could answer, Cal whimpered, his hand curling tight onto Henry’s shirt. His bright, capable, too-reckless-for-his-own-good teenager was whimpering.

“Is it your head?”

Cal’s nod was infinitesimal and tight. That’s it. Along with his lighter and consecrated water, he was also carrying pain meds on his person for now on too.

Placing his large palm on Cal’s head, he started massaging, careful to not go directly over the wounds. “Does that help?”

“A little.” Cal’s voice was small, hurting. Henry continued the slow rhythm, hoping to lull the pain away. He needed a distraction.

“Jake mentioned you'd been to Karavel.”

“Just before we met up with you.” A huff. "Ran out of omthrodite."

Henry frowned. “You been plugging a lot of Hell-holes I should know about?”

Cal snuggled in closer. “Just one. It was big.”

O'Reilly had reported in the other day about a larger than average Hell-hole too. If that was going to be the new norm, he'd have to get more of the crystals from Celalundria to supply the squad with. Being able to go to Karavel themselves, Henry hadn't told his sons that their mother smuggled the crystals and other weapons out to him monthly. He owed Cela that much, knowing Jake would never step foot into his mother's dimension if he didn't have to make a supply run.

“Dad?"

The pads of Henry’s fingers kept steady pressure on Cal’s head. It seemed to be working, Cal was sinking closer into him. “

“When Jake and I came to live with you, did Mom tell you what happened?”

Henry frowned. He wished he could see more than just the top of the kid's head. Cal’s face was always so expressive, he could generally tell exactly what he was thinking. “Just that some of the trainees had gotten rough." Rough. They'd broken three ribs, nearly punctured a lung. And the kid's face… Henry had gotten Cal to the military hospital—the special part of the hospital that knew what his squad did and didn't bat eyes at unusual wounds and infections. Or different Anointed blood cells and anatomy.

Cal tilted his head upward to look at him and something tugged in Henry’s chest at the trusting eyes.

“Why?” Cal had hardly spoken about it. Henry wondered what had happened in Karavel for Cal to bring it up now. His fingers stopped moving for a moment. “Something you want to tell me, son?"

"No."

Which was pretty much always Cal's answer when nudged about it. Truth was, Henry suspected it had been more than an initiation mishap. He'd been in the military long enough to know the difference between accidental wounds and purposely inflicted ones. He'd just been so worried at first, and then so damn glad that he had the boys with him now, out of the Anointed dormitories where accidents couldn't touch them anymore. He hadn't pressed Cal for answers. But something obviously had recently rattled the boy, pulling out old memories that it was past time to address.

“How’s your head?”

“Better?” Which meant it still hurt like a mother. “Can you keep rubbing?”

“All night, kiddo.”

“Mmmmm.” Cal nuzzled against him the way he used to when he was small and everything inside of Henry went soft. The teen would be mortified if he wasn’t hurting so bad. Henry continued rubbing Cal’s head, slow firm strokes and he soon felt the heaviness of sleep overtake Cal’s body.

He kept up the little massage for another thirty minutes until his hands grew tired and Cal no longer whimpered when he paused. Tucking Cal closer into his side, Henry rested his cheek along the top of Cal’s head to wait out the rest of the night.