There were a couple of fire trucks standing outside the church when they pulled up, people milling around and rubber-necking, but there wasn't much sign of damage as far as they could see. Dean parked as close to the church as he could get, cursing the mass of people milling around on the road. There were a couple of fire trucks standing outside the building, and a handful of anxious-looking parents fussing over their kids, but he couldn't see any sign of an actual fire.
He and Sam pushed their way through the gaggle of kids gossiping by a side door and slipped into the church. From the snippets of conversation he caught as he passed, Dean gathered that they were mostly speculating over whether there had even been a fire. So much for the possibility they might have seen something useful.
The inside of the church was dark and quiet, and Dean was confused for a moment by the lack of firefighters or any other sign of activity. Then he noticed a door off to one side, with a sign saying: St Anselm's Community Center. He nudged Sam and headed that way.
This part of the building was as quiet as the church, but it was obvious that people had cleared out in a hurry. Coats and bags had been left in some of the small side rooms, and Dean glimpsed a bake sale laid out on a table in the foyer. There still didn't seem to be much in the way of damage, but the acrid scent of smoke pervaded everything, and voices issued from further down the hallway. They followed the sound, and finally found themselves in a large gym.
This was evidently the scene of the fire, judging by the scorch marks running across the floor and up one wall, where the charred remains of tennis nets were dangling forlornly. The excitement appeared to be over now, though: several firefighters were packing away their equipment, while one talked to a small group of boys in their early teens. The boys were pale and unnaturally quiet, and as Dean and Sam watched, the firefighter nodded and sent them on their way. The boys scattered in the direction of the locker rooms, except for one, who moved back over towards the part of the room where the fire had been. The kid toed one of the burn marks, head down and face troubled.
Sam moved over to stand by him, slouching and casual. Dean followed slowly, marvelling at his brother's ability to make himself look so damn small. He pulled out the EMF meter, angling his body to keep anyone from seeing it. The reading was faint but definite.
Huh.
'You doing OK?' he heard Sam ask.
The kid shrugged, eyes still on the burn marks.
'Kind of a shock, I guess, finding the fire like that?' Sam offered. The kid's head snapped up, sharp and indignant.
'I didn't find it!' he said. 'It found me - it was trying to get me. That's what was a shock.' His tone was defensive, and Dean could tell he was already tired of telling disbelieving adults about it, was probably even starting to doubt it himself.
Sam kept his cool, voice calm and steady. 'What d'you mean, trying to get you? Did someone set a fire on purpose? Throw gasoline, something like that?'
The kid was getting twitchy, and Sam's question clearly upset him further. 'He didn't need gasoline! He didn't - I don't know how he did it, but he - I always knew he was a freak, course we didn't want to play basketball with him, freak like that -'
Basketball. Dean had never really been a big believer in coincidence. He tucked the EMF meter back in his pocket and moved closer.
Sam was being as soothing as he could. 'Who was it? Another kid started the fire?'
'That freaky Arey kid,' the boy snarled, hovering between tears and fury. 'Always hanging around, pushing in where he's not wanted - I told him to get lost, I told him to leave us alone - none of us wanted him here, who'd want a freak like him hanging around? And then - the fire, it just - fuck.'
'It just started?' Sam asked, not touching on anything else right then. 'You said it came right for you?'
'He threw his basketball at me,' the boy said, and Dean could see him shaking a little now. 'He threw it and it just - it caught on fire, all at once, just - I know things like that don't happen, but it did. I jumped back and it hit the nets on the wall and they caught and... Then there were people everywhere and he was gone, but it was him, I know he did it, I don't know how, but he did.'
'This is Jacob Arey, right?' Dean asked, unable to keep silent any longer.
'Yeah,' the kid said, obviously startled. 'Did he - did someone say something to you?'
'Nope,' said Dean. 'Just - you might wanna think twice before calling people freaks in future, kiddo. C'mon, Sam, I think we're done here.' He turned away before Sam could respond, shouldering through a fire door and out into the fresh air.
Sam followed him a couple of minutes later. 'What the hell, Dean? You nearly took his head off in there.'
'We haven't got time to mess around, Sam,' Dean said, heading back towards the car. 'Besides, I meant what I said. The kid was picking on Jacob - he got what was coming to him, that's all.'
Sam gaped at him for a moment. 'What he got was a flaming basketball to the head, Dean.'
Dean winced slightly. 'Yeah, well. If it had to happen, kid might as well learn something from it.' He reached the Impala and climbed in. Sam slid into the passenger seat and opened his mouth to pursue the argument, but Dean cut him off. 'Anyway, looks like the demon theory's out. This sure as hell ain't a nursery fire.'
'It's sure as hell got something to do with the Areys, though,' Sam said.
'Yeah, it has.' Dean bit his lip. 'I think it's time we spoke to Mr Arey, don't you?'
'You think he might know what's going on?' Sam asked doubtfully. 'It's centred around Jacob, that much is obvious.'
'I'm not sayin' Jacob's not mixed up in it somehow,' Dean conceded. 'But the kid doesn't know anything, Sam. Maybe the dad does.'
'OK,' Sam agreed. 'But Dean -'
'What?' Dean asked.
'Nothing, just - let's talk to Gavril.'
~*~
Gavril's office was guarded by an extremely surly, tight-lipped secretary.
'Do you have an appointment with Mr Arey?' he snapped. 'Because if you haven't, I'm afraid you could be waiting a considerable time.' He looked Dean up and down with an expression which intimated that it was unlikely they'd be able to afford Mr Arey's services even when they did become available.
Dean opened his mouth to reply, but Sam stood on his foot and moved forward, smiling his best college-boy smile.
'I'm afraid we don't, but perhaps you could see if he has a moment in his schedule. It's important that we speak to him today.'
The secretary seemed highly sceptical, giving the schedule only the most cursory of glances. 'I'm afraid that's quite impos-'
'Tell him it's about his son,' Dean said, his voice unflinching. 'And ask him to find the time to see us today.'
For a moment it seemed as though the guy was about to argue further, but he took another look at Dean's face and hastily picked up the phone.
'Sorry to disturb you, Mr Arey. There are two - ahem - gentlemen asking to see you regarding your son.' There was a pause as he listened. 'No... all right.' He hung up. 'Take a seat. Mr Arey has agreed to see you shortly.'
'Shortly' turned out to involve half an hour of cooling their heels, and Dean was beyond pissed by the time they were ushered into the office. Which was perhaps just as well, as Gavril Arey seemed far from welcoming himself.
'Would you gentlemen mind telling me why you're here?' he asked, straight to the point. 'Have you had yet another complaint from our neighbour?'
'Neighbour?' Sam enquired, exchanging a perplexed glance with Dean.
'Mrs Robinson has made something of a habit of contacting the authorities with wild tales,' Gavril said dismissively, settling behind his desk. 'She's getting older, and it shows. No? Then why don't you tell me why you are here.'
'We'd like to talk about your son Jacob,' Dean began.
'We're from the church,' Sam put in smoothly. 'Perhaps you haven't heard, Mr Arey, but there was a fire today.' Gavril blanched, and Sam continued hastily, 'Jacob wasn't hurt, don't worry. It was very minor.'
'Then why are you here?' Gavril demanded, fear giving way to belligerence.
'Your son was apparently involved in something of an incident,' Sam said. 'We're concerned that he's being bullied, Mr Arey. And we understand he's had a few problems, recently.'
'Problems?' Gavril said, sounding taken aback. 'I don't think - Jacob's at a difficult age right now. And I imagine you heard about the fire at our home - that was traumatic for us all. But I'd hardly say...' He paused. 'He was being bullied? At the church?'
'We're not quite certain,' Sam temporised. 'But the incident caused us some concern, which is why we wanted to speak with you.'
'His teachers haven't mentioned any bullying,' Gavril objected.
Dean raised his eyebrows sceptically, and the man considered for a moment. 'Although there are more kids at this new school, I suppose... the faculty at his elementary school knew them all so well, I never had any concerns before.'
'And Jacob hasn't mentioned any problems to you?' Sam prompted.
'No.' Gavril met his gaze for a moment, then looked down at his desk. 'But he probably wouldn't,' he admitted. 'He... he barely speaks to me at all, lately. We used to be close, but in the last year or two... he's just so difficult. I can't understand it.'
Sam gave a sympathetic smile. 'Things at home are a bit difficult at the moment?'
'Ever since my wife and I married, he's been a problem. I thought things might improve when Rebecca got pregnant - Jacob always hated being an only child - but he barely acknowledges his baby brother. He's rude to me, he's openly hostile to her - I don't know what went wrong. When we first met, he loved Rebecca, and god knows she loves him. I guess we're just getting the stormy adolescence a little early.' Gavril smiled ruefully.
'Those can be difficult years,' Dean agreed, not looking anywhere near Sam. 'And Jacob's mother is... not in the picture?' Damned if he could find a tactful way to put it.
Gavril paled. 'Alice... we lost her when Jacob was just a baby. I... was lucky not to lose him too, in fact.'
'I'm sorry,' Sam murmured, with more tact than Dean could muster. 'That must have been very difficult for you.'
'Losing Alice was like...' Gavril trailed off. 'It's not something that can be described. It was a fire. The firefighters couldn't reach her in time. One of them made it into the nursery, managed to get Jacob out of there somehow. I still don't know how - the whole house was in flames. God, when I think of how close we came to losing Zach, and that fire was tiny in comparison...'
'Was Jacob badly burned?' Dean asked.
'You wouldn't think so, would you, looking at him now?' Gavril said. 'But the doctors said he'd be scarred for life, if he even survived the smoke inhalation. They were all amazed by how quickly he healed.'
'It sounds like he was very lucky,' Sam said quietly.
'Yes,' Gavril agreed. 'The fireman who carried him out died, right after. His colleagues said he'd been a lucky one, survived more blazes than any man had a right to. I guess maybe he passed his good fortune on to my son. Jacob surviving, recovering... it was like a miracle. I'm still grateful, every day. Even if,' he added, smiling ruefully, 'he seems to be causing nothing but trouble these days.'
'See, that's the thing,' Dean broke in. 'I get the impression Jacob doesn't feel too lucky. When I spoke to him, it sounded like he thinks you don't care too much about what happens to him.'
Gavril stared at him, openly shocked. 'I... he's my son. Of course I - why would he even think that?'
Dean shrugged a little. 'New wife, new baby... new family. Gotta be hard for the kid right now. I guess he's feeling - unwanted. Unloved.'
'Unloved? But I, we -' Gavril drew in a deep breath. 'I'm sorry, I must seem like a fool to you. It's practically textbook, isn't it? Still, it seemed so perfect - a real family for us both after all these years alone. Rebecca and I are so happy; it never even occurred to me that Jacob didn't feel the same way.'
'It's something you might want to think about,' Dean said bluntly.
Gavril nodded slowly. 'I'm glad you gentlemen came to speak to me - it's good to know that not everyone in this community thinks social services should be the first to hear about family problems. You came from the church, you said?'
'Yeah,' Dean said. 'We - uh - we run a youth group over there.'
Gavril paused for a moment, then stiffened, scrutinising them both. 'Except... you didn't come just out of the goodness of your hearts, did you?' he said slowly. 'A fire at the church, that's what you said. And you think Jacob's problems are somehow connected... you think he set that fire.'
'There may be some connection,' Sam said, obviously picking his words carefully.
Watch it, Sammy, Dean thought. This wasn't exactly the kind of conversation he'd planned on them having.
'A fire at your home, then the one at the church - and the boy we spoke to did seem to feel that Jacob was involved somehow. But -' Sam rushed on quickly, as anger began to rise in Gavril's face, '- we're not accusing him of anything. It's possible Jacob is doing something unconsciously, reacting to things which have upset him. After all, fire has played a big role in his life; it's not entirely surprising that he should feel drawn to it.'
'Doing something unconsciously,' Gavril repeated in disbelief. 'Lighting fires unconsciously. I don't know what you're trying to do here, whether you're really bad liars or just insane, but I don't want to hear any more. Get out of here, and stay away from my family.'
Dean opened his mouth to speak. 'Get out,' Gavril repeated, and Dean snapped it shut again, backing out of the office before the guy decided that it would be a good idea to call the police.
~*~
'Nice move, Sam,' Dean muttered as they strode past the receptionist, who looked openly smug at their ignominious ejection from Gavril's office. 'Tell the guy we think his kid's an arsonist, that's bound to go down well.'
'I didn't say he was doing it deliberately,' Sam replied in an undertone. 'And I didn't see you jumping in with any great alternatives there. A youth group, Dean? Seriously?'
'I could run a youth group,' Dean said in an aggrieved tone. 'I got enough experience dealing with your troubled teens, dude.'
Sam rolled his eyes as they finally emerged from the office block. 'Whatever you say. Speaking of troubled teens, maybe we should go check on Jacob Arey before he sets fire to someone else?'
'Whoa, whoa. Who says he's the one causing the fires?' Dean said, coming to an abrupt halt.
'Dean, come on.' Sam looked at his brother incredulously. 'All the fires have been centred around him, every single one. House burns down, he gets out unscathed. The kid gets jealous of his new baby brother and the next thing the crib's on fire.'
'Yeah, but -' Dean started.
'Some mean kid picks on him and basketballs start spontaneously combusting,' Sam continued relentlessly. 'I don't like it any more than you do, man, but there's a bit of a pattern here.'
'I'm not saying there's no pattern, Sam,' Dean broke in. 'But it's a bit of a jump to say he's the one causing this shit. He could be the target here, for all we know.'
'He's had a hell of a lot of lucky escapes, if he is,' Sam said sceptically.
'Maybe.' Dean frowned, rubbing at the back of his neck. 'But Sam, I spoke to him - he didn't come across as the Damien type. Bit of a brat, maybe, but no more so than you were. He's not running around setting people on fire.'
'Well, either way, we need to figure out what the cause is,' Sam said, letting that argument drop for the time being.
'Plenty things it could be,' Dean said, shrugging. 'Maybe he's cursed. Maybe he's being haunted. Or... maybe the fire at the church doesn't rule out the yellow-eyed demon theory.'
'What, you think the demon caused the first fire, out in Russia?' Sam asked. 'That Jacob's one of the other psychics?'
'Could be,' Dean said. 'Which would mean it is him causing the fires - though if so, he's got no idea he's doing it, Sam.'
'Maybe.' Sam bit his lip thoughtfully. He guessed it was possible, but... 'No, you said it yourself, Dean. This just doesn't have the same feel to it.'
'Who's ignoring the pattern now?' Dean demanded. 'Kid's mother burns up in a nursery fire. Now weird things are happening around him, things he can't control. We can't just ignore it, Sam. He could be one of them.'
Sam shook his head. 'I'm not buying it, Dean. There's too much that doesn't fit. Sure, we can check out that angle too, but I think this is something else.'
The twist of Dean's mouth told Sam he wasn't convinced, but he seemed ready to let it go for now. 'Fine. You check it out, see what else you can come up with. I'll go find the kid, make sure he's OK.'
Sam nodded reluctantly, and Dean turned to get into the car. Before he could climb in, Sam caught at his shoulder, and Dean turned back. 'What? Don't tell me you're wanting a ride the whole block and a half to the library.'
'I'm not the one who's in love with the damn car.' Sam let his hand fall, but didn't move back from his brother. He was still far from sure Jacob wasn't capable of doing some damage on purpose. 'Just - be careful, Dean.'
'Whatever.' Dean punched Sam's shoulder softly. 'You be careful, dude. There's no way a librarian can be that hot without working some kind of mojo.'
Sam snorted, amused despite himself, and started in the direction of the library.
~*~
The librarian at the reference desk brightened as Sam entered the library, smiling over at him, but he headed over to a quiet corner without fully registering her presence. He flipped open his laptop and logged onto the wireless network, already thinking through which sites might be of help.
Aside from the possibility that Jacob was one of the psychic kids - which Sam was still far from convinced by - there were plenty of ways in which he could be causing the fires. Almost every tradition had stories of people with control over the elements. Beyond that, though, the lore was sketchy. Most of the accounts were heavy on the 'all-powerful' epithets and pretty much lacking in any actual explanations. After reading through the twentieth more-or-less identical webpage, Sam decided maybe it was better to rule out the other possibilities before looking further.
Of the other ideas Dean had suggested, a curse made the most sense to Sam. He started a new search, looking for curses which involved fire. There were quite a few, but there seemed to be little evidence that any of them could be involved here, since none of the fires had hurt Jacob himself. Besides, there was no obvious reason for anyone to have placed a curse on the kid. Even if he was a bit of a brat. Of course, it was possible that if there was a curse, it had originated in Russia, but he'd never heard of a curse which lay dormant for ten years after its first attack. Once curses took hold they usually kept going until the target was destroyed.
No, the long gap between the first and second fires fitted much better with the demon theory, Dean was right about that much. The problem was that there were so many other circumstances which just didn't quite fit. Sam understood why Dean was suddenly so focused on the idea that Jacob was one of the psychics, but he thought his brother was grasping at straws. Still, it was worth looking into, so he started trying to dig up information on the first fire, out in Russia.
With the new information they'd gotten from Gavril, it was relatively easy to find Alice Arey's obituary, and a news article on the family tragedy from when they'd returned to the States. It seemed Alice's family had been pretty well-known in the area. Sam browsed back through the archive to see if there were any reports of strange things happening to them, and hit upon a birth announcement for Jacob. He stared at it, then checked back through the information he'd found earlier and compared it to the date of the fire.
Jacob had been nearly seven months old by the time his mother died.
Sam exhaled slowly and leaned back in his chair. Well, that ruled that out. He wasn't entirely sure whether he was relieved or disappointed.
They were still left with the question of what the hell was going on, though.
Sam rubbed at the bridge of his nose and started digging a little deeper. It was pretty difficult to get any more information on the fire itself - most of the news reports were in Russian, which had been mysteriously lacking in his education - but he did manage to find an expatriates' group where someone had started a thread sending good wishes to the family. The discussion stretched on for several pages, mostly brief messages offering up prayers and commenting on the tragedy, but about halfway in a newcomer's query led to some more general details about the fire.
Sam sighed and settled down to comb through the gossip for any scraps of real information.
What was interesting was that the fire had apparently started in the nursery, while the remains of Alice Arey's body had been found in a bedroom nearby. And yet it had been too late to save her, whereas one of the firemen had been able to reach Jacob in the nursery - at the very heart of the fire - and get him out.
It wasn't impossible, but it was a little odd.
Then there was a comment from an eyewitness about how badly injured the baby had been when the fireman had brought him out - in fact, she had thought Jacob was dead, and was shocked to hear that he had survived and made a 'miraculous recovery' in the hospital.
Sam wasn't quite sure where this was going, but he was starting to get a very bad feeling about it.
He checked through a few more sites, looking for anything else which might offer a clue to what they were dealing with, but came up with nothing. He closed down the laptop and headed on outside, digging his cell out from the pocket of his backpack. Whatever Dean might think about involving someone else, they definitely needed some backup on this one.
He hit the speed dial for Bobby, but was not entirely surprised when it went straight to his voicemail. Probably still in the middle of his hunt.
Sam sighed and bit his lip, then dialled Joshua's number.
~*~
Dean set out towards the house where the Areys were staying, but halfway there he realised he was on the wrong track. Judging by Jacob's words that morning, it wasn't likely the kid would be home at this time. Besides, after the way they'd pissed Gavril off, he wasn't too keen on taking the risk that the guy might show up at home unexpectedly. The store was a possibility, although Dean had a feeling that basketball practice wasn't exactly high on Jacob's list of soothing hobbies at the moment. Still, it was a place to start, at least.
When Dean drove past the store, however, the spot where Jacob had been bouncing his basketball earlier was empty. He swore under his breath and drove on slowly, trying to figure out where else to look. There had to be a thousand places where a kid might run when he was upset, and while Dean had always had an instinct for knowing where Sam would run, he didn't know Jacob that well yet.
He tapped his hands against the wheel and tried to think. The kid was upset; he probably wouldn't want to deal with his stepmom, even if he did want to go home and hide -
Home. His real home.
Dean turned the Impala around and headed back in the other direction.
When he got to the house, he thought at first that his instincts had been wrong. It still seemed shut up, the front door closed and locked. When he went around to the back of the house, though, he found the door standing ajar. He slipped inside before Mrs Robinson, or any other nosy neighbours, had a chance to notice him.
The house was quiet. Dean made his way through it as silently as possible, not wanting to alarm the kid if he was hiding somewhere. He had a good idea where he probably was, however.
Sure enough, Dean reached the top of the stairs and caught sight of Jacob huddled on the bed in his bedroom.
Dean approached quietly and stood in the doorway, unsure of what to say. In the end he settled for the obvious. 'Hey, Jacob. You doin' OK?'
Jacob jerked his head up, startled, and Dean gave him a reassuring smile before looking away, pretending to study the posters on the wall. He gave the kid a minute to dry his tears before turning back to him.
The kid looked like he would be on the verge of asking what Dean was doing there, if he trusted his voice enough to speak. Dean didn't give him the chance. 'I hear you're having a pretty tough day. You hanging in there?'
Jacob hunched in on himself, shoulders high and tight. 'How did you know? Did you... are they looking for me?'
'No, nothin' like that,' Dean reassured him quickly. 'I heard about what happened, decided to come and see if you were OK. See if you could use someone to talk to.' He perched on the edge of the bed, minimising the difference in their heights. 'You wanna tell me what happened?'
For a minute it looked like Jacob would refuse, but Dean stayed quiet, watching the kid's fingers work nervously at a loose thread on the comforter.
'I just wanted to play basketball,' Jacob said after a while, his voice almost inaudible.
'At the centre,' Dean said, not so much a question as encouragement to keep going.
'I knew there was a game, some of the guys from my school always play there during lunch recess.' Jacob jerked a little too hard at the thread, pulling it free from the comforter. 'I just thought I could play with them for a change.'
'And they weren't too interested?' Dean asked gently.
Jacob coloured up, cheeks burning red against the pallor of his face. 'They called me a freak,' he said fiercely. 'They said I couldn't play for shit, anyway, and they called me a freak.' He looked up at Dean, eyes glistening. 'And I can play.'
'You looked good with that ball when I saw you before,' Dean agreed, quiet reassurance. 'And in my experience... does no good listening to people who say things like that. What happened?'
The colour drained from Jacob's face as quickly as it had come. 'I don't know. I was angry, and I threw the ball at Mitch, and the next thing there were flames everywhere, and - I don't know.'
Dean took a long look at him and nodded. He'd been right about one thing: Jacob hadn't been doing any of this intentionally. But he did seem to be starting to realise that it had something to do with him, although Dean wasn't sure just how much the kid had understood. 'Jacob? Anything like this ever happen to you before?'
'What?' Jacob looked confused. 'No, what do you - the only fire I've even seen before was the one here last -' He cut off again suddenly, eyes widening. 'You think it's - you think the fire here had something to do with me?'
'Jacob -' Dean paused to think. He always hated breaking this sort of news, especially to kids, even though honesty was the only real option. 'Look, man, I don't know. I just don't know what we're dealing with here. But the fire at the centre, that came from you, didn't it? And - well - no one knows exactly how the fire here started.'
Jacob stared at him. 'You mean... you think it was my fault?'
'I don't know what -' Dean started to say, but Jacob interrupted, sounding close to panic.
'I didn't do anything! I didn't, I swear it, I wasn't even near Zach when the fire started, I wouldn't -'
'Jacob,' Dean said firmly. 'Listen to me. No one's accusing you of anything - I'm definitely not saying you wanted to hurt Zach. I know you would never do that. But sometimes people can do things without meaning to, when they're upset. If you think there's even the slightest chance that that's what happened here, you need to tell me so we can help you.'
'I didn't! I wouldn't - how can you even ask me that?!' Jacob's voice was shifting from panic-stricken to angry now. 'You're crazy! I wasn't even near him! I didn't do anything to Mitch, either, even though he was being a jerk! Why're you picking on me about it? Go away and leave me alone!'
Jacob picked up his pillow and flung it at Dean, shaking with impotent rage. It reminded Dean of Sammy during his teenage door-slamming phase, and it would have been funny if it hadn't been for the desolate look on Jacob's face.
And for the fact that flames were blossoming on the edges of the pillowcase.
~*~
'Well, the symptoms could match any number of phenomena,' Joshua said. 'The first fire took place out in Russia?'
'Yeah,' Sam said. 'About 12 years ago. The kid was just under seven months old.'
'And then nothing?' Sam heard Joshua suck in a breath, considering.
'Nothing until now,' Sam confirmed. 'But two serious fires in a week.'
'Fire, fire...' Joshua murmured under his breath. 'You're right to say a curse is unlikely: there wouldn't have been such a gap if that was all it was... The child wasn't hurt in any of these fires?'
'Apparently not,' Sam equivocated. 'But, well, the reports from the first fire are confusing. It sounds like they thought he was pretty badly hurt, but he pulled through really quickly. I didn't even see any scars on the kid.'
Sam sighed. 'It's too long ago for me to find as much information as I'd like, not to mention most of the stuff that is available online is in Russian. But the kid's father did talk about it being a 'miraculous recovery', and what I've found does seem to confirm that, as far as it goes.'
'Hmmm,' Joshua said. 'My knowledge of that part of the world isn't as extensive as I'd like, but have you considered a supernatural parasite? There are some things, especially out in the more inhospitable regions, that can latch onto people, use them as hosts.'
'But it's been twelve years,' Sam objected. 'If he was being possessed by something, wouldn't it have destroyed him by now? If anything it's been the opposite - he seems to have had a series of lucky escapes.'
'No parasite wants to kill its host, Sam,' Joshua pointed out. 'If the boy is infected with something of that nature, it's more likely to protect him, heal him.'
Sam rubbed one hand across his forehead. 'I guess. The most recent fires, they've happened when someone annoys him - jealousy of his new brother, some kids picking on him. That might fit with him being possessed, if this thing is acting to protect him.'
'It's not something I've seen before personally, but it fits with what I know,' Joshua agreed. 'It sounds as though the parasite's getting stronger, though. Sometimes these things increase in intensity at the onset of puberty. I'd advise approaching the boy with caution.'
Sam raised his head slowly. 'Dean went looking for him. He didn't think that - Joshua, I've got to go find him. I really appreciate your help -'
'Don't mention it,' Joshua said. 'I suggest you find your brother before he gets himself into trouble, Sam.'
'Not much chance of that,' Sam joked weakly, and ended the call. He hit the speed-dial for Dean, already rushing down the steps to the street.