Fighter | Supernatural [1]

Chapter Eight

        Aarin lay on the motel room bed, Callum resting against him, sound asleep. He heard as the door to the room opened, getting ready to fight before realising it was Sam and Dean. He then disappeared.

Dean's eyes immediately landed on the small boy, causing him to stop mid-conversation and hold a finger to his lips to tell Sam to be quiet.

The shotgun Dean had given him was resting against the bedside table.

The older brother walked over, sitting down on the bed next to the five year old, brushing the boy's hair, that desperately needed cut, out of his face before placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Cal, I got food." Dean said, giving the small boy a shake. Callum opened his eyes slowly, looking at his father.

"Daddy!" He exclaimed, hugging the man. Once the boy let go, he looked at his father's green eyes. "What'd you get?"

Sam handed Dean a Happy Meal box, the older brother then handing it to Callum, whose bright blue eyes lit up, his smile growing even bigger than it had been.

"You're the best!" Callum told them. "Both of you."

As the two men started their research, Callum happily ate his cheeseburger happy meal, playing with the small toy that came in it.

"So, every religion in every world culture has the concept of demons and demonic possession, right?" Sam said after a little while, looking up from his laptop. "I mean Christian, Native American, Hindu, you name it."

"Yeah, but none of them describe anything like this." Dean replied as he looked up from the mountain of books he'd been reading whilst being sat next to Callum.

"Well, that's not exactly true." Sam admitted. "You see according to Japanese beliefs, certain demons are behind certain disasters, both natural and man-made. One causes earthquakes, another causes disease."

"And this one causes plane crashes?" Dean asked as he stood up and walked over to his brother. "All right, so, what? We have a demon that's evolved with the times and found a way to ratchet up the body count?"

"Yeah. You know, who knows how many planes it's brought down before this one?" Sam said, causing Dean to snort. "What?"

"I don't know, man." Dean shrugged. "This isn't our normal gig. I mean, demons, they don't want anything, just death and destruction for its own sake. This is big. And I wish Dad was here."

"Yeah. Me too." Sam agreed. Dean's phone began ringing, causing him to take it out of his pocket and answer.

"Hello?" Dean said.

"Dean, it's Jerry." The man said on the other side.

"Oh, hey, Jerry." Dean replied, causing Callum to look up.

"My pilot friend... Chuck Lambert is dead." Jerry explained.

"Wha- Jerry, I'm sorry. What happened?" Dean asked him.

"He and his buddy went up in a small twin about an hour ago." Jerry continued. "The plane went down."

"Where'd this happen?"

"About sixty miles west of here, near Nazareth."

"I'll try to ignore the irony in that."

"I'm sorry?"

"Nothing. Jerry, hang in there, all right? We'll catch up with you soon." Dean said before hanging up, looking at Callum. "Jacket and shoes on. I'll tie them." The young boy got up, doing as he was told.