As the sun set, a sense of peace spread. The birds in the trees stopped singing, and the wind no longer blew the leaves across the grass. Amidst all the pain and suffering in the world, the city of Boston had a rare moment where there was none.
-1 week prior-

Thea Finch was a young woman, college aged. She had waist length light-brown hair and eyes so dark you couldn't see her pupils. Her skin was fair, not pasty, but bright and clear. She wasn't a thin girl, but had womanly curves in her breasts and hips. Thea looked older for her 20 years, often mistaken for professors on days she decided to dress up.

Today was an ordinary Tuesday. She was coming back from her 5pm class when she started to feel a little warm. Thinking it was her jacket, she unzipped the fleece and slung it over her arm. The young woman had begun to feel better until she started to cross the street; she suddenly felt on fire and dropped to the asphalt.

"Thea Finch? Can you hear me?"

An old man was speaking to her, wearing a white coat.

white coat. "Fuck," she thought. "I'm in the hospital."

She nodded as strongly as she could, slipping away again as the doctor spoke.

"You passed out yin the middle of a street and hit your head pretty hard; you came in with a 106 fever, we've tried ice baths, Tylenol, Advil, everything. Nothing will bring it down..."

Sam and Dean Winchester hadn't had a case in two weeks. The stuffy motel room they had been staying at in upstate New York was starting to feel like a prison. Thinking something must be happening somewhere, Sam called Garth, the awkward hunter-turned-werewolf that occasionally gave them leads.

"Hey Garth, it's me, you got anything for us?" Garth seemed frantic as he started spouting off instances of malevolent spirits and wendigos that he thought he saw. Sam sighed. Lately Garth had become so paranoid that the only things he had to offer were paranoia and bad jokes.

"Sam, there's something else. There's this girl, in Boston, she's had a fever for a week. But it's not just any fever, she's got one high enough to kill her and nothing brings it down. Other than the temp, everything else is fine. Her brain is working, her body is in relatively good health. The doctors are stumped. I think it's-"

"Garth. Stop. How is this our kind of thing?" Sam thought it was a simple virus they hadn't caught yet. He was starting to think he should hand up, when he perked up at something Garth was saying.

"Woah, Garth, what did you just say?" Sam's heart started racing. Could it be true?
"The Second Coming of Christ. Well, maybe not the second ever, but the second we'll know of. There's some obscure text that didn't make the cut for the bible, it talks of a woman burning with passion. That might not seem like much but listen, "She who burns with passion will be saved, her fruit shall be plucked from the tree of Sin and delivered unto her people." The fruit is a baby, the tree of sin, that means the girl has sinned a lot. The passion could be Christ's passion"

Sam was speechless. It was crazy, a conspiracy theory more than folklore, but what if it were true? With the lack of work around, it might just be worth checking out.

"Alright, thanks Garth, we'll check it out. " Garth started to say something else, but he was cut off when Sam hung up.

Sam laid back and stared at the cracked ceiling. He really didn't know what to say to Dean. Dean was never one to listen to crackpot stories about this kind of stuff.

The door to the small room slammed open, and an exuberant Dean passed through.

"C'mon Sammy, Let's go out. I'm
tired of being holed up in here all damn day waiting for the world to end again."
He sauntered over to the bed where Sam lay still, and slowly realized something was up with his brother.

"Sammy, what's up? you look like you've seen a ghost."

Sam cleared his throat. There was a small pause.
"Garth found us something. He..he thinks he's found the next virgin Mary. Well not really- this one's a whore." He swallowed hard.

"Damnit," Sam thought. "That came out fifty shades of fucked up."

Dean took a second to absorb what he had just heard. A smile crept to his lips as he saw the humor in the situation.

"Right Sammy, we're going to find a whore that's gonna give us Jesus Christ again. Real Fuckin' plausible."

He flopped onto the bed next to Sam and glanced over at him, expecting a smile; but meeting a concerned gaze. Dean's heart missed a beat. Surely he couldn't have been...serious?

"You're... you're not kidding are you."

Sam's face relaxed as he shook his head.
"We have to go now. Boston. Her name is Thea Finch and she's had a fatal fever for a week."

In the next room over, Castiel sat listening to the brothers talk. As soon as her name was mentioned, he vanished.