Title: Stranded (Brotherhood AU)

Author: Will Scott

Rating: T- harsh language

Disclaimer: Mackland Ames, Caleb Reaves, nor Bird Isbell belong to me. They are being borrowed with permission from my best bud, Ridley. The others mentioned in this story are creations of Eric Kripke and copyrighted by The CW and Warner Bros.

A/N: A few weeks ago or months, I'm not sure anymore, Ridley and I were discussing her Brotherhood. Specifically, Caleb and his relationship to Mac. I told her that I would love to see how the two ended up together. Well, that was an unfortunate slip on my part, when out of her mouth these words flew: "Why don't you write it?" Well, I said, 'why don't I', and here it is. It is a work in progress. Hopefully, not a long WIP. g Anyway, with extreme thanks to the creator of these great characters, I am here to present to you the back story of Caleb Reaves and Mackland Ames meeting and eventual family relationship. I hope I do it justice, Rid. Mistakes are all mine.

A/N/N: Reviews are always welcomed and appreciated. Flames- I take out on my students.


He felt that his whole life was some kind of dream

and he sometimes wondered

whose it was and

whether they were enjoying it.

"The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy"- Douglas Adams (1952 - 2001)

November 1, 1983

"...therapeutic foster home." The dark haired youth snorted, garnering a disapproving glare from Juvenile Court Judge Maria Baker. She was not impressed with the black dressed, bad attitude teen facing her. She was even more unimpressed with his recent behavior. "Your little drunk and disorderly is not acceptable."

"Don't forget pissing on the police officer's nice and shiny car door." Caleb Reaves had a self-satisfied smirk plastered across his face. The eyebrows of the 50ish year old judge dropped dangerously, but the youth seemed impervious to the lurking doom. "Opie Taylor, I'm not."

"Young man," Baker drew in a deep breath before continuing. "You have been warned on several occasions, but I'm afraid this was the last chance. After your recent incident, you were evaluated and the preliminary report is not promising." The judge flipped through the thick folder. "Oppositional Defiant- Conduct Disorder. It seems you don't get along with authority figures or much of anyone else for that matter."

"Tell me something I don't know." A sharp thwack of the gavel told Caleb his muttered response had been overheard.

"You will listen and listen well, Mr. Reaves." The judge leaned over the podium, coming almost eye level with Caleb. "You will give nothing but respect to Mr. and Mrs. Johnson. You will stay with them for the next two months, and at the end of that time, you will return here for another evaluation. If I feel you have reformed..." the venom dripped from the word. "I will consider returning you to Ms. Isbell's care. The alternative will be placement in a suitable institution."

A slight nod from the youth satisfied the magistrate. "I'm glad you understand."

Caleb watched as Bird stepped forward and tried once again to plead with Judge Baker, but the woman shook her head and then motioned toward the bailiff.

A hand suddenly grasped Reaves shoulder, eliciting a sudden and violent reaction in the teen. "What the fu..." a face full of muscular chest and tie prevented Caleb's completion of thought and action.

"Well... well... Mr. Reaves... we meet again." The deep resounding voice rang throughout the small courtroom.

"Well, shit." The youth shook his head in disgust, looking up into the eyes of the 6'6" African American Child Services Enforcer, Abraham Sullivan. Reaves had the unfortunate luck of meeting Abe the first time he ran away from Bird. It had only been a few days after his Grandma Ruth had died and his knack for finding trouble had landed him the introduction.

"Abe, my man, what brings you by?" A slow smile inched its way across the tall man's face.

"Caleb. It seems you went and pissed..." the boy groaned at the pun. "Off the wrong people." The case worker had seen too many cases like the Reaves boy. Good kids, terrible circumstances, usually equaled a troubled youth, if not a horrific adulthood.

"Look, Abe..." Reaves stepped back from the mountain of a man, shaking loose from his grip. "I appreciate the personal attention, but back off, dude." He turned away only to find an unfamiliar man and woman in their mid-thirties heading his way.

He stopped, trying to make himself appear intimidating, and waited. They both halted a couple of feet from the angered teen, apparently aware of the hostility.

"What the fuck do you want?"

Baker heard the aggravated response and a crimson stain splashed across her hard features. "MR. REAVES!" The yell bounced heavily against the walls.

A heavy clamp of two hands on Caleb's shoulders indicated that the giant behind him was not amused either. "You just don't know when to quit, do you son?"

Another immediate reaction had the teen whirling around, slipping from Sullivan's grip and facing off against the man.

"Listen, jackass. You're not my dad." Reaves slapped Sullivan's hands away as they tried again to reach for him. "Keep your fucking hands off me."

The bailiffs were approaching the two from the side, sensing the kid was about to make a break for it.

"Caleb?" The soft, gravelly voice drifted towards the poised runner. Reaves slowly turned his head and found Birdell looking pleadingly at him.

She had been the one constant in his life since the death of Ruth Chaille, his grandmother, who had begged Isbell to raise the orphan if the worst should happen to her. The youth's shoulders sagged, the fight or flight going out of him.

"Okay, Caleb." Abe patted him a couple of times on the back and then moved away, telling Reaves he was sorry about earlier.

The judge cleared her throat, attracting everyone's attention. She glanced down and then back towards the waiting group. "Mr. and Mrs. Johnson, I will completely understand if you choose not to take Mr. Reaves."

Caleb looked from Judge Baker to Bird and then swung his gaze to the Johnsons. He saw the doubt cross Mr. Johnson's face and knew he's in more trouble, but as Mrs. Johnson placed a hand on her husband's shoulder, he felt some hope.

"Thank you Judge, but I don't think that will be necessary." She stepped confidently up to Reaves and smiled. "We'll be fine."

TBC...


1/19/07