This just came to me on a 15 hour drive. Mistakes are all mine.

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural. I also want to say that although most of the priests in thif fic are dicks it doesn't imply that priests in genreal are bad people.

Dean Winchester was, if you asked anyone but himself, a man of my talents. He was the local mechanic and there wasn't a car that he couldn't fix. If someone had an electronic devise to fix they also went to Dean. There wasn't anything that he couldn't fix in general. He also helped out at the Roadhouse, knew a lot about music and was always kind and helpful. If you asked his parents and brother they would tell you that they are proud of him, that Dean did something with his life. His father was mostly proud of how masculine his son was, which was mostly the reason that Dean had begun to gather secrets. He hid his bisexuality, hid his love for other music then just classic rock. Over time the number of secrets he kept rose higher and higher. The biggest one of them began when he was 14.

Dean remembered this day and would remember it for the rest of his life. He had been playing with friends when the old aggressive neighbour dog began to chase after him. For 5 whole minutes he was running for his life until he reached the local church. He jumped inside and closed the door. Thankfully the dog gave up after some time of barking and growling in front of the door. As soon as it was gone Dean had wanted to leave the church but was stopped by beautiful music coming from above him. He knew that he should really leave but instead he went upstairs and looked for the source of the music. There stood a giant instrument and a woman sat in front of it. Dean slowly came closer, the amazing music drawing him in.

"You're allowed to come close, you know."

Dean jumped at the sudden voice and would have turned back if the woman didn't look at him except the woman was looking at him expectantly. She gestured for him to come over and his curiosity led him to comply. He approached and watched as the woman played the strange piano with three rows of keys. At the most beautiful part she even used a row of wooden keys at her feet with her feet. Dean had been so fascinated that he stayed until the woman was finished and watched every move, every pull of one of the strange things that changed the way the tune sounded completely. The sound itself seemed to come out of the pipes above the keys. Dean was absolutely silent and just listened until the woman was finished.

"Boy, what's your name?"

"Dean. Dean Winchester."

"Nice to meet you, Dean. My name is Missouri. Did you like it?"

The woman, Missouri, was really nice to him. It surprised Dean since he was generally seen as a trouble maker. She even smiled at him, thankfully, otherwise Dean wouldn't have dared to come near her, much less talk to her. Since she was so nice and Dean was really really curious he decided to talk to her.

"Yes, I liked it very much. What's that instrument called?"

"It's an organ, boy. Have you never been to a church?"

"No, my family isn't really religious. Can you teach me how to play it?"

"That's a difficult instrument, boy, know that. Only ask that if you're sure and come more than once a week to practise."

Dean had to think about it. He would have to get out without someone noticing what he'd go to the church to practice but he was sure it would be worth it in the end. When he would be good enough he could show his family. He was far too curious and fascinated to let thus chance go. He had expected that Missouri would just say no and send him on his way. So he just had to plan how to get away.

"Yeah, I'm sure. I want to learn it."

"Okay, boy, I'll meet you here at Monday, Wednesday, Friday and Sunday. Same time as you arrived just now."

"Why don't you ask me if I'm religious? Because, really, I'm not."

"There's a big difference between faith and music. You don't have to believe in God to let music speak of sour soul."

That had Dean speechless. He understood the words and meaning but he had never thought of music that way. With a smile and a nod he had already turned to go when he was interrupted by Missouri.

"Where are you going, boy? Let's start right now."

Dean nodded enthusiastically and sat down with her on the bench. Missouri started with notes which Dean already knew from playing his guitar. When it came to which key was for which note he had problems. There were three rows of keys! Soon he understood and vowed to secretly practise at the piano they had at home whenever he was alone or at the one at school. He would find a way to get better because this organ was an awesome instrument. After learning the basics of playing he wanted to know about the mechanics. That was another reason he liked that instrument, the mechanics behind it.

"You see, Dean, every note, every tone has its own pipe. If you press the key, you press the hole in that log between the air pump and the pipe. The air blows through the pipe and that's how a tone comes out."

Dean was listening intently and memorised every detail. Even as he knew that it would be a long time until he could admit it, he just wanted it more for that. Something just for himself, that he must keep from others and wanted to. The time flew so much faster than expected and soon the both of them had to go home. Missouri with the knowledge that she had a student for when she couldn't play anymore and Dean with masses of partitures to practise. He folded them carefully and hid them under his leather jacket as he came home.

From then on Dean practised hard and played as often as he could. Sometimes he even visited the mass, just to see how much part the organ had in it. It turned out that it was wonderful. The few people who visited the mass were singing with the organ and it echoed through the church. Dean would never be religious but he would love that memory until the end of his days.

Two years later he began to play masses by himself with Missouri standing by. She was always gentle with her criticism. Father Singer seemed to suspect that there were two organ players but Dean begged her not to tell him. It wasn't before Missouri's eyes got too tired to play that people realised that there had been two players for years. Dean was 20 at that time and worked as a mechanic. He still insisted that Missouri wouldn't tell anyone. It had been really obvious in Dean's opinion that they were two because while Missouri liked to play improvisation while the people leave the church, he himself liked to play classic rock pieces. He had played Carry On My Wayward Son more often than he could count and ended every requiem with Dust In The Wind. It never happened once that he forgot to type the number of the songs into the remote for the little screen that told the visitors which songs they should sing. There were also a lot of occasions where he had to fix the organ. A key got stuck sometimes or wouldn't grip, it happens with an old instrument.

Dean became the whole town's mystery. Not exactly him but the mysterious organ player that no one ever got to see. There were people who stayed longer to find out who exactly sat on the bench and played but Dean had a secret passageway that Missouri showed him. She had asked him regularly why he didn't just say that he was the mysterious musician. It seemed that everybody liked how he played and wanted to talk to him and thank him. Nothing could convince him to tell them. He had a reputation and he still wanted to keep it for himself. But there always was an exception to every rule...

Dean was 26 when Father Singer left their town. He would spend the rest of his life in a little village near the mountains, not that he had wanted that. A young priest should take his place. On the day that Father Singer left a big party was thrown for him. All the religious people of their town were there. Dean waited until the party was over and all the people were gone to go into the church and surprise Father Singer. He would leave and so wasn't a risk to his secret but Dean also really liked the man. With silent tentative steps he neared himself and cleared his throat. He had to bite back a chuckle when the elderly priest jumped.

"Hello, son. I didn't see you there. Now that I think about it, I've never seen you before. Who are you?"

"Hey, Father Singer. Yeah, I wanted to come here to say my goodbyes. The reason you've never seen me is that I usually sit with my back to you."

Father Singer looked at Dean with surprise. He had asked Missouri every time he saw her who the mysterious organ player was and now a young man in a leather jacket stood before him and told him that he had played the whole time. This man had played with so much passion and feeling? It was odd but Father Singer felt honoured to meet him, especially if Dean came for him to say goodbye when he knew that the young man didn't want to tell anyone.

"Boy, you're a wonder on that instrument! It's nice to finally meet you, even if it's the last time too. What's your name?"

"Dean, Dean Winchester. It' nice to meet you too, Father."

"Please, call me Bobby."

"Okay, Bobby. So, I wanted to give you something but I'm not the thoughtful type." Bobby's snort at that was ignored. "Let's just say that your car will hold another decade."

"Thank you, Dean. I'll miss you, boy."

"I'll miss you too, Bobby. One last thing, Bobby, could you please tell the new guy not to question who plays? I mean, you know that I don't want anybody to know."

"No problem. I'll tell that young guy to stick his curiosity where the sun doesn't shine."

"Thanks, Bobby."

Both of them laughed and bid their last goodbyes. Bobby left the church shortly after to meet his successor.