Fighter | Supernatural [1]

Chapter Fourteen

        "So, what do you have?" Dean asked his brother as he sat on the motel bed, cleaning his weapons. Callum was sat behind his dad, fidgeting with one of his dad's bullets.

"A whole lotta nothing." Sam replied, stepping away from a wall covered in pictures and maps. "Nothing bad has happened in the Miller house since it was built."

"What about the land?" Dean questioned.

"No grave yards, battle fields, tribal lands or any other kind of atrocity on or near the property." Sam told him, sitting down on the other bed.

"Hey man I told you, I searched that house up and down." Dean said. "No cold spots, sulfur scent. Nada."

"And the family said everything was normal?" Sam asked.

"Well, if there was a demon or poltergeist in there you think somebody would have noticed something?" Dean told him. "I used the infrared thermal scanner man, and there was nothing."

"So what, you think Jim Miller killed himself and my dream was just some sorta freakish coincidence?" Sam questioned.

"I dunno." Dean shrugged. "I'm pretty sure there's nothing supernatural about that house."

"Mrs Miller was nice." Callum said. "She told me that the people at her house wouldn't hurt me. They were there to help."

"Yeah. Well, maybe it has nothing to do with the house." Sam said, completely ignoring the boy as he rubbed his temples. "Maybe it's just... Gosh... maybe it's connected to Jim in some other way?"

"What's wrong with you?" Dean asked. Sam was silent for a moment before letting out a slightly pained noise.

"Ahh. My head!" Sam said, moving to sit on the ground next to the bed.

"Sam?" Dean said as both he and Callum got up, worried looks on their faces. "Hey, hey! What's going on?" He grabbed his brother's arms as Callum watched, blue eyes wide in shock and fear. "Talk to me."

Sam stared at Dean for a few moments before speaking, "It's happening again! Something's gonna kill Roger Miller."

        Sam and Dean left to go save Roger, leaving Callum in the motel room. That, of course, meant that Aarin showed up on one of the beds when Callum stepped out of the bathroom.

He didn't really get surprised by the angel anymore, seeing as this had happened more times than Callum could count.

"You need a haircut, Callum." Aarin told the boy. It was true. The boy had had one just last month but his hair grew fast, and as it grew longer, it became messier. "So, how are you today?"

"Good." The boy nodded, flopping onto the bed. "You?"

"I'm brilliant." Aarin replied. "I came to warn you about something."

Callum sat up, confusion in his blue eyes, "What's wrong?" He asked.

"The other angels know about you." Aarin said. "I'm already seen as a traitor for abandoning Heaven years ago, but if they know I've been with you, they'll kill me. Or worse, take my grace."

"Then stop coming to see me!" Callum told him. "If I'm a danger to you, you shouldn't be here!"

"It's not that simple, Cal." Aarin said. "I promised Michael that I'd protect you. I'd rather die than abandon you. All this means is that I need to teach you faster. This is probably stupid, but do you think you could make me levitate like you did with the pen? If you can do that, you'll have a way to protect yourself."

"But that was a pen!" The boy argued. "You're a lot bigger than a pen."

"It's all right, Callum." Aarin said, moving to place his hands on the boy's shoulders. "You're stronger than you think. One day you'll be stronger than me, maybe even stronger than the Archangel, Michael. But only when you're ready. You have years, maybe even decades, to learn. And I'll be there every step of the way."

"Pinkie swear?" Callum asked, holding up his right pinkie.

"Pinkie swear." Aarin assured him, locking pinkies with him. "It's scary how much you're like your mother. Mainly the eyes." He smiled. "She was beautiful. She was a dear friend of mine, I was heartbroken when she died. You're so much like her. When I'm with you, it feels like she's still here."

"I don't know much about her." Callum admitted. "I didn't even know she had a brother and sister until last year."

"Morgan Allen was one of the bravest women I had the honour of meeting." Aarin told him. "Her father, Spencer, was a hunter. Died when she was young. She knew about the Supernatural because of him, and she wanted to be like him until she met your father. You know, both of them were willing to settle down and leave the hunting life for you? They wanted you to live a normal, carefree life. But even if they tried to settle down, you'd never live a normal life."

"Because I'm different..." Callum said softly. "Because I'm not... human..."

"Being different is a good thing sometimes, Callum." Aarin assured him. "You're not bad different. You're good different. You have a good heart and a good soul."

"When can you tell me what I am?" The boy asked. "I want to know..."

"You'll learn soon enough." Aarin told him. "You're not ready yet. But you will be soon."

Callum looked down at his hands. He just wanted to know that he wasn't a freak. That he wouldn't become something that was hunted. There was only one thing he hated more than crowds and that was not knowing. 

A/N - What do you guys think Callum is?