Supernatural: Salvation

A/N: And I am back with a new story! So, we're now on the final stretch for this season and there's just two more stories after this one that I'll be posting.

Read, review, and enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from Supernatural or from Criminal Minds. I just own any and all characters that I just happen create.


CHAPTER ONE: THE RETURN OF MEG

Blue Earth, Minnesota…

It was a clear morning at the local church, and Pastor Jim Murphy was at the altar, looking through the bible, idly turning the pages as he prepared his next lesson; suddenly, the candles around him flickered, as if a wind was blowing, and he looked around warily. At that exact moment, the church door opened, and 'Meg' entered, looking slightly distraught.

(A/N: For now I'm putting these '' around Meg's name until some point in the final story for the first season.)

"Good morning. Can I help you?" Jim asked, wondering if this young woman was the source of the disturbance earlier.

"I kind of…I need to talk," 'Meg' said hesitantly as she sat down in a pew.

Jim walked over to her. "Well, that's what I'm here for," he said kindly.

'Meg' couldn't look at him. "I've done some things - not good things."

Jim smiled. "Well, there's always forgiveness for us if we seek it."

"For everyone? Are you sure?" 'Meg' asked, looking up at the older man hopefully.

Jim nodded. "I like to say salvation was created for sinners. Tell me what's on your mind."

'Meg' sighed. "Well, I've lied…a lot," she confessed. "I've stolen. I've lusted. And the other day, I met this man - a nice guy, you know? And we had a really good chat - sort of like this." She paused briefly. "Then I slit his throat and ripped his heart out through his chest," she added, leaving Jim puzzled until she blinked, and her eyes turned coal-black. "Does that make me a bad person?" she asked.

"I know what you are," Jim whispered, shocked as he backed away from her. 'Meg' blinked again, and her eyes reverted to normal. "You can't be here. This is hallowed ground," he added, kicking himself for not seeing it sooner. 'Meg' was a demon!

'Meg' smirked and stood up. "Please. Maybe that works in the minor leagues - but not with me."

Fearful for his life, Jim ran away from her, and down a flight of stairs.


Reaching the basement, he unlocked the doors, entered the room beyond and closed the doors behind him; breathing hard, he blocked the doors with a piece of wood and ran over to a large array of weapons. After a quick search, he found the knife he was looking for and picked it up just as 'Meg' kicked the doors open; he hurled the knife at her, but she caught it, and he was stunned. This demon was definitely stronger than any other demon he'd ever face before.

'Meg' wasn't impressed as she moved toward him. "You throw like a girl."

Jim backed away from her. "What do you want?" he asked.

"The Winchesters," 'Meg' answered.

"I haven't spoken to John Winchester in over a year," Jim retorted. "You're wasting your time. Even if I did know where they were, I'd never tell you."

'Meg' wasn't surprised. "I know," she agreed, raised the knife and slit his throat. Clutching at his throat, Jim fell into a chair gurgling; grinning, 'Meg' walked away, leaving him to bleed to death.


Maps, newspaper articles, books, and photographs covered the walls and tables of the motel room; John was seated at a desk, Dean, Liz, and Sam were standing in front, and the Colt revolver was on the desk, on top of several papers.

"So, this is it," John explained, gesturing to the controlled mess. "This is everything I know. Look, our whole lives we've been searching for this demon, right? And not a trace, just nothing…until about a year ago. For the first time, I picked up a trail."

"That's when you took off," Dean said, exchanging a look with Liz.

"Yeah, that's right," John confirmed. "The demon must have come out of hiding or hibernation."

"All right, so, what's this trail you found?" Dean asked.

"It starts in Arizona, then New Jersey, California - houses are burning down to the ground," John told them. "It's going after families…just like it went after us."

"Families with infants?" Sam asked.

John nodded. "Yeah – the night of the kid's six-month birthday."

Sam blinked. "I was six months old that night?" he hadn't known that.

John nodded again. "Exactly six months."

"So, basically, this demon is goin' after these kids for some reason - the same way it came for me?" Sam asked, shaken. "So, Mom's death, Jessica - it's all 'cause of me?"

Dean didn't like where this line of thought was heading. "We don't know that, Sam."

"Oh, really, 'cause I'd say we're pretty damn sure, Dean," Sam retorted angrily.

Dean sighed. "For the last time, what happened to them is not your fault."

"Yeah, you're right, it's not my fault, but it's my problem!" Sam snapped.

Dean turned on him. "No, it's not your problem, it's our problem!"

"Okay. That's enough," John snapped, standing up while Liz got between her brothers to prevent a physical fight.

"So, why is it doing it?" Sam asked, forcing himself to calm down. "What does it want?"

John sighed; he'd been trying to figure that out for the past year. "Look, I wish I had more answers," he admitted. "I do. I've always been one step behind it. Look, I've never gotten there in time to save…" and he trailed off.

"All right, so, how do we find it before it hits again?" Liz asked.

John pulled himself together in order to continue explaining. "There are signs. Look, it took me a while to see the pattern, but in the days before these fires, signs crop up in an area - cattle deaths, temperature fluctuations, and electrical storms. And then I went back and checked, and…"

"These things happened in Lawrence," Dean finished, exchanging a startled look with Liz and Sam.

John nodded. "The week before your mother died." And he looked sadly at his youngest son. "And in Palo Alto…before Jessica. And these signs - they're starting again."

"Where?" Sam asked.

"Salvation, Iowa," John answered.


After driving cross-country for several hours, the Winchesters entered Salvation, Iowa; suddenly, John pulled over to the side of the road, and Dean, Liz, and Sam did the same, wondering what was going on as they all got out of their cars.

"Damn it," John cursed, thumping the side of the truck with barely controlled anger.

"What is it?" Dean asked, exchanging a worry look with Sam and Liz.

John didn't answer right away and was now stomping around. "Son of a bitch!"

"What is it?" Dean repeated, realizing it must be really bad for their dad to go off like this.

John sighed, forcing himself to calm down enough to answer the question. "I just got a call from Caleb."

"Is he okay?" Liz asked.

"He's fine. Jim Murphy is dead," John answered.

"Pastor Jim?" Sam asked and their dad nodded. "How?"

"Throat was slashed - he bled out," John explained, leaving them stunned. "Caleb said they found traces of sulfur at Jim's place."

"A demon," Dean said, noting their dad's grim expression. "The demon?"

"I don't know," John admitted. "Could be he just got careless, he slipped up. Maybe the demon knows we're gettin' close."

"What do you want to do?" Dean asked.

"Now we act like every second counts," John responded grimly. "There are three hospitals and a health center in this county. We split up, we cover more ground. I want records. I want a list of every infant that's gonna be six months old in the next week."

"Dad, that could be dozens of kids," Sam said, already imaging just how sore his hand was going to be from writing down names. "How the hell are we gonna know which one's the right one?"

"We'll check 'em all, that's how," John snapped. "You got any better ideas?"

Sam sighed. "No, sir."

And they moved to get back into the car; John turned back to his truck but stopped.

"Dad?" Dean asked.

Sighing, John turned to face them. "Yeah…it's Jim. You know, I can't…" He trailed off, sadly. "This ends. Now. I'm ending it. I don't care what it takes." And he got into his truck, and Dean, Liz, and Sam got into the car.


John pulled up outside the Salvation Women and Children's Hospital in his truck; he opened his glove compartment and sorted through his fake IDs, before finding a hospital staff ID card. He took it out and hooked it onto his shirt.


At the Salvation Iowa Medical Center, a receptionist brought several files over to Sam, who was working at a table.

"Here you go, Officer," she said.

"Thank you," Sam said, smiling, and continued copying down information from birth certificates.


"Hi," Liz said, approaching the front desk of the Salvation Children's Hospital and the receptionist sitting behind it, and held up her fake id. "I'm from the health department and I need to look at records of children due to turn six months old soon to make sure they're up to date on their vaccines."


At the Salvation Hospital, an attractive young woman was behind the front desk, holding a clipboard; Dean saw her and raised his eyebrows, impressed, and walked over to her.

"Hi. Is there anything I can do for you?" she asked.

"Oh, God, yes," Dean gushed and she laughed, embarrassed. "Only I, uh…" He cleared his throat and showed her his police badge. "I'm working right now, so…"


Several hours and one very sore hand later, Sam walked out of the building with his bag over one shoulder and a notebook full of names and information; suddenly, he saw several images flash in his mind very quickly as he was overwhelmed by a vision, and he stopped and grimaced in pain, doing his best to not curl up in a ball on the sidewalk.

More images flashed in his mind and he saw a mother placing an infant into her crib. Sam massaged his temples and blinked several times as the visions stopped momentarily, but then returned with revenge; a quick succession of images included the woman opening a bedroom door to see a man standing over the crib. Another vision showed the woman looking out her window to watch a passing train. When the visions finally stopped, Sam took a map out of his bag, breathing heavily.

"Train…"

He unfolded the map, saw that a railroad ran past one of the streets in town, and walked away to find it.


Absorbed with his search, Sam followed the map and eventually found the house from his visions; he looked around and saw the woman from his visions, Monica, walking down the street, pushing a baby carriage and holding an umbrella. He walked over to her.

"Hi," he said, taking hold of the baby carriage while she closed her umbrella. "Here, let me hold that. You don't need that anymore."

"Thanks," Monica said gratefully and they both laughed.

Sam looked at Rosie, the baby in the carriage, and she looked right back at him with big inquiring eyes. "She's gorgeous. Is she yours?" he asked.

Monica nodded. "Yeah."

Sam smiled. "Oh, wow. Hi," he said to the cute baby and looked back at her. "I'm sorry, I'm rude. I'm Sam. I just moved in up the block," he added and they shook hands.

Monica grinned. "Oh, hey, I'm Monica. This is Rosie."

"Rosie? Hi, Rosie," Sam said to Rosie.

"So, welcome to the neighborhood," Monica said.

Sam nodded. "Thank you. She's such a good baby," he remarked.

"I know. I mean, she never cries," Monica agreed. "She just stares at everybody. Sometimes she looks at you, and I swear, it's like she's reading your mind."

"What about you, Monica? Have you lived here long?" Sam asked.

"My husband and I, we bought our place just before Rosie was born," Monica answered.

"How old is Rosie?" Sam asked.

"She's six months today," Monica responded and Sam was stunned. "It's big, right? Growin' like a weed."

Sam smiled half-heartedly. "Yeah." 'Six months today? Oh boy.' "Monica?" he said after a moment, noting her confused expression.

"Yeah?" Monica asked, wondering if Sam was all right.

"Just take care of yourself, okay?" Sam requested after a moment with another weak smile.

Monica nodded. "Yeah. You, too, Sam. We'll see you around."

"Yeah. Definitely," Sam agreed and walked away, just as Monica's husband pulled in the driveway.

"Oh, there's Daddy," Monica told Rosie.

Sam watched them from across the street; suddenly, more images began flashing through his mind. Sam grimaced and clutched his head in pain as a new vision began.


`"'In Rosie's nursery, the clock on the wall suddenly stops and her mobile begins moving on its own. The shadow of a man walks towards Rosie's crib. Then, Monica enters the room, dressed in a white nightgown, and she sees the demon standing over the crib.'

`"'What are you…?" Monica begins.'

`"'The demon looks at her, and she is suddenly pinned against the wall. Unable to move, she is moved up to the ceiling as she begins to cry.'

`"'Rosie! Rosie!'

`"'She continues to call Rosie's name. A pool of blood appears at Monica's waist as she cries, helpless, and the nursery goes up in flames.'"`


The vision ended, leaving Sam feeling like he was going to pass out any second; he didn't know why he was having visions, but the thought that he couldn't predict when they would hit was driving him up the wall.

Breathing hard, he hurried away from the neighborhood as he finally got around to calling his dad, Dean, and Liz about what he'd learned.


A/N: Death visions suck big time. R&R everyone!