Houses of the Holy
"We got a minor T.A. involving a, uh, motorcycle and a van." A voice says through the police scanner. Dean held the device, sitting on the foot of the bed. "This is at the corner of, uh, 28th and Pine."
"Dean, turn that thing off. It's not helping." I say, looking at him through the mirror on the opposite wall as the beds. He rubbed his eyes before turning to look over his shoulder at the Magic Fingers box on the nightstand. He turned back, sighing sadly.
I shook my head, dropping my mascara back into my makeup bag. I turned to face him. "Wipe the sad look off of your face, Dean-o. I actually have somethin--"
I was cut off by the door opening and Sam walking in.
"Did you bring quarters?" Dean asked.
Sam gave him a look. "Dude, I'm no enabling your sick habit." He tossed a bag of food to Dean. "You're like one of those lab rats that pushes the pleasure button instead of the food button until it dies." He sat down on his bed.
"What are you talking about? I eat." Dean says.
"Sam Winchester." I say. "Be nice."
"Saige, you have to agree with me here." Sam argued.
"I agree it's an odd habit but if it weren't for that, I wouldn't be able to get him off of me. Okay, a girl needs a break every once in a while." I say. "Plus, it's not like it's gonna kill him. As I was saying before Sam interrupted, I have something for you." I grabbed the small pouch from my bag before moving to Dean. He looked up at me questioningly. I dropped it into his hand. "Quarters. Knock yourself out."
"I love you." Dean smiled, standing up to kiss me.
I patted his chest. "Love you too, even if you are a weirdo lab rat."
"Ha-ha." Dean glared at me. "Anyway, I got news. " He sat back down.
"Me too." Sam says, looking down at the notepad in hand.
I sat next to Dean as he offered a bite of his burger.
"Three students disappeared off the campus this year. All were last seen at the library." Sam explained.
"Where Carl Gulley worked." Dean pointed out.
"Yep."
"Sick bastard." Dean muttered.
"So Gloria's angel--"
"Angel?" Dean asked.
"Okay, whatever this thing is."
"Okay, well, whatever it is, it struck again." Dean stated.
"What?" Sam asked.
"Another guy turned up dead and somebody was like 'an angel told me to be a murderer.'" I say.
"We were...listening to the police radio. There was this guy, uh, Zach Smitt." Dean began.
"Well, technically, we were making out until the police radio had something interesting to say." I mumbled.
"Anyway, some local drunk. He went up to a stranger's front door last night, stabbed him in the heart." Dean continued.
"He went to the police and confessed?" Sam asked.
"Yup. Roma Downey made him do it." Dean stood, walking over to the mirror and plucking the sticky note he'd written on off. "Now, I, uh, got the victims address."
___
"Ah, the life of a criminal." I say as Dean grabbed onto my elbows and pulled me atop the dumpster.
"We're saving lives." He quipped as he jumped over the tall fence.
"We're also breaking and entering." I followed his lead, expecting to hit the ground but instead was caught by two strong arms. I smiled at him. "You're so sweet."
"Keep it moving, sweetheart." He smacked my ass, walking off in the same direction Sam had gone.
I rolled my eyes, smiling a little.
We eventually reached the window, which Sam picked the lock of.
"Ladies first." Dean gestured to the window.
I gave him a look before slipping through the window, leaving him on the fire escape.
___
"Find anything?" Sam asked as he tried to break into the man's computer.
"Well, Frank liked his catalog shopping. That's about all I got. You?" Dean replied, walking into the office.
I dropped down into the chair in the living room, watching the two.
"Not much here." Sam shrugged. "Except he's got this one locked file on his computer that...Hold on."
I stood, walking into the next room and stopped next to Dean. I snatched a magazine from the stack he held. I flipped through the pages.
"Not anymore." Sam smiled as he hacked into the file. "God."
"What?" Dean dropped the catalogs back onto the desk.
"Uh, he has all these e-mails. Dosens." Sam replied.
I placed the magazine down. "That's unusual?"
"To this lady named Jenifer." Sam continued. He clicked on one of the e-mails. "This lady who's 13 years old."
"Aw, I don't wanna hear this." Dean says.
"Sam, get out of there." I gestured to the opened e-mails. Suddenly I was 15 again and backed into a corner by a creepy guy in a bookstore. It took months to get rid of him. Months and lots of really bad situations I had to live through. Luckily nothing ever happened. Nothing that bad. Luckily I had enough sense to drag my brother or my dad or Dean around with me after that.
"Looks like they met in a chat room." Sam clicked through another. "These e-mails are pretty personal, Dean. Look at that. Setting up a time and place to meet."
"Great." Dean muttered.
"They were supposed to meet today."
"Hmm. I guess if you're gonna stab someone, good timing." Dean says. "I don't know, man, this is weird, you know. I mean, sure, some spirits are out for vengeance, but this one's almost like a do-gooder. Like a--"
"Avenging angel?" Sam suggested.
Dean rolled his eyes, turning to the table on the other wall.
"Something's at work here. Something that knows stuff no one else could. Who knows what would've happened to that girl if this guy wasn't killed." I say.
"How else do you explain it, Dean?" Sam asked. "Three guys, not connected to each other, all stabbed through the heart? At least two were world class pervs. I bet if you dug deep enough on the other guy--"
"Hey." Dean picked up a paper and turned toward us.
"What?"
"You said Carl Gulley was a churchgoer, right?" Dean asked.
"Yeah."
"What was the name of his church?"
"Uh....Our Lady of the Angels?" Sam says.
"Of course that'd be the name. Looks like Frank went to the same church." Dean placed a flyer for said church on the desk before Sam and me.
___
"So you're interested in joining the parish?" Father Reynolds asked.
"Yeah, we just don't feel right unless we hit church every Sunday." Dean says.
"Where'd you say you lived before?"
"Uh--" Sam began.
"Permont, Texas." Dean spit out.
"Yeah, yup." I nodded along.
"Really? That's a nice town." Reynolds says as we walked through the church. "St. Theresa's Parish. You must know the priest there."
"Sure, yeah. No, it's, uh, Father O'Malley." Dean stuttered out.
"Hmm, I know a Father Shaughnessy."
"Shaughnessy. Exactly. What did I say?" Dean says quickly, nodding his head.
"Hush." I whispered, giving his wrist a squeeze.
"You know, we're just happy to be here, Father." Sam says.
"And we're happy to have you. We could use some young blood around here." Reynolds agreed.
"Hmm. Listen, I gotta ask, and no offence, but the neighborhood--?" Dean glanced around.
"It's gone to seed a little, there's no denying." Reynolds admitted. "But that's why what the church does here is so important. Like I always say, you can expect a miracle but, in the meantime, you work your butt off."
"Yeah, we heard about the murders."
"Yes. The victims were parishioners of mine. I'd known them for years."
"And the killers said that an angel made them do that?" Sam asked as if he wasn't sure.
"Yes. Misguided souls." Reynolds says. "To think that God's messenger would appear and incite people to murder. It's tragic."
"So you don't believe in those angel yarns?" Dean asked.
"Oh, no, absolutely I believe. Kind of goes with the job description." Reynolds laughed a little, gesturing to himself.
"Father, that's Michael, right?" Sam gestured to the painting of an angel with a spear in hand.
"That's right. The Archangel Michael with the flaming sword. A fighter of demons. And a holy force against evil."
"So they're not really the Hallmark card version that everybody thinks? They're fierce, right? Vigilant."
"I like to think of them as more loving than wrathful. But, uh, yes, a lot of scripture paints angels of God's warriors. 'An angel of the Lord appeared to them, a glory of the Lord shone down upon them, and they were terrified.'"
I smiled a little. Then I realized that the two harebrained giants I was with didn't understand. "Luke 2:9." I say.
Reynolds smiled. "Yes."
___
"Thank you for speaking with us." Sam says as we walked down the stairs of the church.
Despite the fresh air, I was feeling a little woozy.
"It's my pleasure." Reynolds replied. "I hope to see you again."
I hadn't felt very well from the moment we stepped into the building.
"Hey, Father, what's all that for?" Dean gestured to the flowers left the by bottom of the stairs.
"Oh, that's for Father Gregory. He was a priest here."
"Was?"
"Passed away right on these steps. He's interred in the church crypt."
"When did this happen?"
"Two months ago." Reynolds explained. "He was shot for his car keys."
My head swan, vision blurring in and out. I couldn't get enough air to my lungs.
"I'm sorry." Sam shook his head.
"Yeah, me too. He was a good friend. I didn't even have time to administer his last rites." Reynolds says. "But like I said, it's a tough neighborhood. Ever since he died, I've been praying my heart out."
"For what?" Sam asked.
"For deliverance. From the violence and the bloodshed around here. We could use a little divine intervention, I suppose."
"Well, Padre, thanks. We'll see you again." Dean shook his hand.
Reynolds walked away.
I stumbled my way down the stairs behind Sam and Dean.
"It's all starting to make sense." Dean picked up the photo of the dead priest from the pile of flowers. "Devoted priest dies a violent death. That's vengeful spirit material right there. And he knew all the other stiffs. They went to church here. In fact, I'm willing to bet because he was their priest he knew things about him nobody else did."
I swayed a little as I tried to sit down on the stone steps. I wasn't able to hold myself up any longer. I placed my head in my hands, shutting my eyes tightly.
"Then again, Father Reynolds started praying for God's help two moths ago, right?" Sam asked, his voice sounds muffled. "Right about the time this all started happening."
"Come on. What'd your deal?" Dean scoffed.
"Stop, stop, stop." I mumbled to myself as the heavy feeling got worse.
"What do you mean?" Sam asked.
"I'll admit, I'm a bit of a skeptic but since when are you all Mr. 700 Club?" Dean asked. "I knew Saige was into all this but you? Seriously, from the get go you've been willing to buy this angel crap."
I lifted my head and jumped when I noticed Shadow Lady at my side. She tilted her head, looking at me confusedly.
"I mean, what's next, you gonna start praying every day with Si?" Dean asked.
"I do." Sam says.
"What?" Dean asked.
"Don't be afraid." Shadow Lady touched my hand and the black veins crept along my skin.
"I do pray every day." Sam admitted. "I have for a long time."
Dean scoffed. "The things you learn about a guy...Huh. Come on, let's go check out Father Gregory's grave." He turned to walk around Sam. "Sweetheart, you okay?"
I looked at him, then at Shadow Lady. She was now gazing at Dean in a questioning manner.
"I'm--I'm okay." I say, standing up and brushing off the weird feeling. Shadow Lady also stood.
Apparently, she's sticking around.
___
Dean's hand was on my waist as we walked toward the crypt beneath the church. Shadow lady was never far behind. She was just behind me, whispering things.
"Dean?" I asked, shifting closer to him.
"Hmm?"
"She's still following me."
"Tell her to fuck off."
"Yeah, I'm not sure that'll work."
Dean sighed, pausing for a moment. "It might." He looked around. "Hey, where's Sam?"
"He was just right behind--" I turned.
He was gone.
We retraced our steps until we reached another hall.
Dean peeked out of the door. "Come on, Sam. Get the lead out."
Sam lie on the floor, still and unconscious.
"Sammy." Dean rushed over to his brother.
"Sam." I nudged his shoulder.
"Hey." Dean helped him sit up as his eyes flickered open. "You okay?"
"Yeah." Sam says, little breathless as he stared up at the angel statue. "I'm okay."
"You sure?" I asked. "You look a little dazed. Or, dare I say, high."
Sam blinked. "I'm not high."
"Oh."
A/N: I am so sorry for the wait between chapters. I am back now. I never wanted to stay away this long, I swear. I apologize. I don't plan on leaving you guys hanging like this again. I hope you can forgive me.
I've been busy here lately. Between trying to rewrite Chasing the Killers Shadow to query it, and some other stuff going on in my life. I haven't had much time to write. Plus my internet is crap right now so everything takes ten times as long to load and work.
Anyway, sorry. Love you all. Bye!!
❤❤