Supernatural: Houses of the Holy

A/N: I return with another chapter for you all to enjoy, thanks for the review, and I admit I have been spending way too much time with my nephews this week. Ugh!

Read, review, and enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from Supernatural or Criminal Minds; I just own the characters that I happen to create.


CHAPTER TWO: CHOSEN

"How much better is it to get wisdom than gold! And to get understanding rather to be chosen than silver!"

Proverbs 10:20

Thirty minutes later, they pulled up in front of Carl Gully's house; it was a moderate single-family home with steps leading up to the front door, and to the left of the door was a plastic angel figure. Dean mounted the steps and examined it.

"Oh hey, Sam. I think I found it. It's a sign from up above," he joked as he peered in the window. "Well, I think I learned a valuable lesson: Always put up your Christmas decorations after Thanksgiving, or you might get filleted by a hooker from God. Ha."

"I'm laughing on the inside," Sam said dryly while both Liz and Jo scowled; he then wandered around back, through a gate, and the others followed; soon they found a wooden storm cellar. "You know, Gloria said the guy was guilty to his deepest foundations," he remarked thoughtfully.

"You think she literally meant the foundation?" Dean asked skeptically.

"We might as well check," Jo suggested.

Sam and Dean opened the creaking door and they went down the steps one at a time, shining flashlights around.

Dean examined several jars. "Hmm."

Looking around, Sam noticed scratches on a wall near the floor; he leaned over to get a closer look, and noticed that something was embedded in the stone. "Hey."

"You got something?" Dean asked as he, Liz, and Jo came over.

Not answering right away, Sam dug at the wall and pulled something out.

"What is it?" Liz asked.

Sam held it up to the light. "It's a fingernail."

Both Jo and Liz grimaced while Dean grabbed four shovels from the wall and they began to dig.


A few hours later, they dug a deep pit and revealed a pile of skeletons in the process.

"So much for the innocent churchgoing librarian," Jo remarked while Liz grimaced.

"Yeah, well, whatever spoke to Gloria about this knew what it was talking about, I'll give you that," Dean admitted.


That night, a young man, named Zach, was lying on a single bed, staring at the ceiling. He drank from a bottle of liquor, and a comic book entitled "THESEUS" rested open on his chest. The room began to shake violently, the lights flickering.

More bottles tumbled to the floor from the nightstand, and the television toppled with a crash. Terrified, Zach scrambled out of bed frantically; a blinding light appeared in front of him and he held up a hand in terror; then awe washed over his features instead as he seemed to go into a trance.


An hour later, Zach walked down the sidewalk calmly, hands in his pockets; he saw the blinding light beside a house and stopped, nodding and smiling. He approached the house and knocked; a middle-aged man, named Frank, opened the door.

"Yes?"

Zach introduced himself, still smiling. "Hi. My name is Zach."

"Can I help you?" Frank asked.

Instead of answering, Zach pulled out a knife and stabbed Frank through the heart; there was a stone angel to the left of the door - approximately where the blinding light had come from.


The next morning, Dean was sitting on the edge of the bed with a police radio in hand, listening, and he was painfully bored.

`"We've got a minor TA, involving a motorcycle and a, uh van, this is at the corner of 28th and Pine, 28th and Pine-"` a woman's voice reported over the police radio.

Just then, Sam entered with Liz and Jo, each carrying a bag of Subway food; Dean sighed and looked back at the "Magic Fingers" controller.

"Did you bring quarters?" he asked hopefully.

Sam frowned at the controller while both Liz and Jo chuckled, collecting a pair of chairs to sit on.

"Dude, I'm not enabling your sick habit," he stated, tossing a foot-long sandwich at Dean and it hit him in the chest. "You're like one of those lab rats that pushes the pleasure button instead of the food button until it dies." And he sat down on the bed.

Dean pouted. "What are you talking about? I eat. And I got news."

"Me too," Sam agreed.

"All right, you go first," Dean suggested, taking a bit of his sandwich.

"Three students have disappeared off the college campus in the last year," Sam reported. "All of them were last seen at the library. And Garcia discovered that Carl Gully moved from a small town in New York, where several students disappeared from the local college last year, and he worked at the library there, too."

"Where Carl Gully worked," Dean remarked.

Sam nodded. "Yep."

Dean was disgusted. "Sick bastard."

"So Gloria's angel-" Sam began.

"Angel?" Dean cut in, eyebrows raised.

Sam rolled his eyes while both Liz and Jo giggled. "Okay. Whatever this thing is…"

"Okay, well, whatever it is, it's struck again," Dean interrupted, and this got their attention.

"What?"

"I was listening to the police radio before you got here," Dean explained, "there was this guy, uh, Zach Smith, some local drunk; he went up to a stranger's front door last night, stabbed him in the heart."

Sam frowned. "And then I'm guessing he went to the police and confessed?"

"Yep. Roma Downey made him do it," Dean said as he stood, avoiding Liz's attempt to kick him as he crossed the room to take a Post-it note off the mirror. "Now, I, uh…I got the victim's address."


Soon the Winchesters and Jo climbed over the fence into the yard and slipped in through the window. A half hour later, Sam was sitting down at the computer as Dean, Liz, and Jo searched the house.

"Find anything?" he asked when they returned.

Dean was looking through a bunch of catalogs. "Well, Frank liked his catalogue shopping, but that's about all I got. The girls are still searching upstairs. How about you?"

"Not much here," Sam admitted. "Except he's got this one locked file on his computer, I can't…hold on." He pressed a few buttons, and then grinned in triumph. "Not anymore." He then looked at the first one and frowned. "God."

"What?" Dean asked, setting aside the catalogs.

"Well, he's got all these emails," Sam explained, clicking through the emails. "Dozens, to this lady named Jennifer." He then paused for a moment, realizing something. "This lady who's thirteen years old."

Dean groaned, realizing what this meant. "Oh, I don't want to hear this."

Sam agreed. "Looks like they met in a chat room. These emails are pretty personal, Dean. Look at that. Setting up a time and place to meet."

"Great," Dean muttered.

Sam nodded. "They were supposed to meet today."

"Well, that explains what we found hidden in the back of his closest," Liz remarked, entering the room with Jo, and both were carrying two cardboard boxes. "There's at least twelve more of these."

"Do I dare ask what's in those?" Dean inquired, warily eying the boxes.

"Kiddie porn," Liz announced and both her siblings cringed. "Yeah, we'll want to get rid of our fingerprints and call the police on this one, too."

"And I thought the supernatural forces we fight against do gross stuff," Jo complained as they put the boxes down.

Dean had to agree. "Huh. Well, I guess if you're gonna stab someone, good timing." He admitted. "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, you know? Like a-"

"Avenging angel?" Sam suggested and Dean turned away, rolling his eyes. "Well, how else do you explain it, Dean? Three guys, not connected to each other, all stabbed through the heart? At least two were world-class pervs, and I bet if you dug deep enough on the other guy-"

Just then, Dean noticed something and picked it up. "Hey."

"What?"

"You said Carl Gully was a churchgoer, right?" Dean asked, now looking at a filer.

Sam nodded. "Yeah."

Dean became thoughtful. "What was the name of his church?"

Sam thought for a moment. "Uh, Our Lady of the Angels?"

"Of course that'd be the name," Dean scoffed and he showed them a church flier. "Looks like Frank went to the same church."


It wasn't long before the Winchesters and Jo were walking through the sanctuary of the church, speaking to a friendly-looking priest, Father Reynolds.

"So you're interested in joining the parish?" Father Reynolds asked.

Dean shrugged. "Yeah, well, you know, we just don't feel right unless we hit church every Sunday."

"He means attend church every Sunday, Father," Liz corrected, elbowing her twin in his side.

Father Reynolds took that in stride. "Where'd you say you lived before?"

"Uh-" Sam began.

"Fremont, Texas," Jo said quickly.

The Winchesters nodded, glad that Jo covered that bit. "Yeah."

"Really?" Father Reynolds remarked. "That's a nice town. St. Teresa's parish, you must know the priest there."

Dean did some quick thinking. "Sure, yeah, no it's uh, Father O'Malley."

Father Reynolds frowned. "Hmm, I know a Father Shaughnessy."

"Shaughnessy, exactly," Dean stammered. "What'd I say?"

"You know, we're just happy to be here now, Father," Sam said quickly, gently nudging the priest's mind.

"And we're happy to have you," Father Reynolds agreed, unaware that his mind was being altered, "we could use some young blood around here."

"Hey, listen, I gotta ask…no offense, but uh, the neighborhood?" Dean asked.

Father Reynolds sighed. "Well, it's gone to seed a little, there's no denying that, but that's why what the church does here is so important," he admitted. "Like I always say, you can expect a miracle, but in the meantime you work your butt off."

Dean nodded. "Huh. Yeah, we heard about the murders."

"Yes," Father Reynolds said wistfully. "The victims were parishioners of mine, I'd known them for years."

"And the killers said that an angel made them do that?" Liz asked.

Father Reynolds nodded. "Yes. Misguided souls, 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, I absolutely believe," Father Reynolds told them. "Kind of goes with the job description."

Sam nodded to a painting on the wall. "Father, that's Michael, right?"

"That's right," Father Reynolds confirmed as they all stopped and looked at the painting. "The archangel Michael, with the flaming sword. The fighter of demons, holy force against evil."

Dean didn't know why, but when he looked at that painting of Michael, he felt a chill go down his spine and a feeling that there was something about it that held an important role in his future.

"So they're not really the Hallmark card version that everybody thinks?" Sam asked. "They're fierce, right? Vigilant?"

Father Reynolds shrugged. "Well, I like to think of them as more loving than wrathful; but yes, a lot of Scripture paints angels as God's warriors. "An angel of the Lord appeared to them, the glory of the Lord shone down upon them, and they were terrified." Both Sam and Liz nodded, but both Dean and Jo were confused. "Luke. Two nine," he added.


"Well, thank you for speaking with us, Father," Jo said as they stepped out of the church a short while later.

"Oh, it' s my pleasure," Father Reynolds said pleasantly. "Hope to see you again."

Dean noticed a collection of tribute items at the bottom of the steps. "Hey, Father, what's, what is all that for?"

"Oh, that's for Father Gregory," Father Reynolds told them sadly. "He was a priest here."

"Was?" Liz asked.

"He passed away right on these steps," Father Reynolds explained. "He's interred in the church crypt."

"When did this happen?" Jo asked.

"Two months ago," Father Reynolds answered. "He was shot for his car keys."

"I'm sorry," Sam apologized, and both Liz and Jo nodded in agreement since it was a horrible way to go.

"Yeah, me too," Father Reynolds agreed. "He was a good friend. I didn't even have time to administer his last rites. But like I said, it's a tough neighborhood. Ever since he died I've been praying my heart out."

"For what?" Sam asked.

Father Reynolds sighed. "For deliverance, from the violence and the bloodshed around here. We could use a little divine intervention, I suppose."

"Well, Padre, thanks," Dean said, shaking his hand. "We'll see you again." And Father Reynolds went back inside; the Winchesters and Jo investigated the shrine. "Well, it's all starting to make sense," he remarked. "Devoted priest dies a violent death? That's vengeful spirit material right there." And both Sam and Liz shifted uncomfortably, which Jo noticed while Dean didn't. "And he knew all the other stiffs, because they went to church here, in fact I'm willing to bet that because he was their priest, he knew things about them that nobody else knew."

"Then again, Father Reynolds started praying for God's help about two months ago, right?" Sam suggested. "Right about the time all this started happening?"

Dean finally noticed just how uncomfortable his siblings were. "Aw, come on, man, what's your guys' deal?"

Both Sam and Liz looked at him questioningly. "What do you mean?"

Dean sighed. "Look, I'll admit I'm a bit of a skeptic," he admitted, "but since when are you all Mr. 700 Club? Same with you, Liz. No, seriously. From the get-go you both have been willing to buy this angel crap, man. I mean, what's next, are you both going to start praying every day?"

"I do," Sam responded.

"And so do I," Liz agreed.

Dean stared at them, stunned while Jo was bemused. "What?"

"I do pray every day," Sam answered honestly. "I have for a long time."

"I do the same," Liz confirmed, "and I've been doing it more often ever since that yellow-eyed scumbag possessed me repeatedly."

Dean was startled, but he understood why Liz was looking for religious help since to him, having his sister possessed equaled to being raped in his mind. "The things you learn about a guy," he muttered. "Huh. Come on, let's go check out Father Gregory's grave."


That night, they slipped into the crypt, which was a maze of stone hallways, with numerous stone angel figurines. They wandered through slowly, Dean, Liz, and Jo were a little ahead of Sam; as they went into another room, Sam stopped, looking back at one of the angels when he saw something out of the corner of his eye. He frowned as it, and then the entire room, began to shake. A brilliant light appeared behind him and he turned, confusion washing away to a look of awe.


Hearing the noise, Dean, Liz, and Jo hurried back into the room.

"Sam, come on, get the lead out," Dean snapped when he saw Sam in a dead faint on the floor, and rushed over. "Sammy? Sammy! Hey!"

"Sammy! Talk to us!" Liz yelped as she and Jo ran over, too.

"Sam?" Jo asked.

Sam jerked awake, groaning.

"You okay?" Dean asked.

Sam stared at the stone angel, stunned. "Yeah. Yeah. I'm okay."

Dean wasn't convinced. "Come on." He and Liz hauled Sam to his feet and guided him into the sanctuary, a hand each on his arm, and Jo shut the door behind them. "You saw it, didn't you? Didn't you?" he asked.

Sam nodded, dazed. "Yeah. Yeah. Dean, I saw an angel."

"You…" Dean sighed as Liz helped Sam sit; changing tack, he pulled out a flask, unscrewed it, and handed it to him. "All right. Here."

Sam stared at the flask for a moment and then gave Dean a reproachful look. "I don't want a drink."

Dean shrugged and took a swig. "So. What makes you think you saw a, uh, angel?"

Sam wasn't sure if he could explain, but he did the best that he could. "It just, it appeared before me and I just, this feeling washed over me, you know? Like, like peace. Like grace."

"Okay, Ecstasy Boy, maybe we'll get you some glow-sticks and a nice Dr. Seuss hat, huh?" Dean teased, wincing when Liz kicked him in the shin and Jo chuckled.

Sam scowled. "Dean, I'm serious. It spoke to me, it knew who I was."

"It's just a spirit, Sam. Okay? And it's not the first one to be able to read people's minds," Dean pointed out, sitting down on another pew. "Okay, let me guess. You were personally chosen to smite some sinner, you've just got to wait for some divine bat signal, is that it?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah, actually."

"Great," Dean sighed. "I don't suppose you asked what this alleged bad guy did?"

"Actually I did, Dean," Sam answered. "And the angel told me. He hasn't done anything. Yet. But he will."

Feeling uneasy, Dean stood and started pacing. "Oh, this is, this is…I don't believe this."

"Dean, the angel hasn't been wrong yet!" Sam pleaded. "Someone's going to do something awful, and I can stop it!"

Dean shot Sam a look. "You know, you're supposed to be bad too, maybe, maybe I should just stop you right now."

"Don't you dare, Dean," Liz snarled, standing up and got into her twin's face. "Don't you even think about it," she added.

Sam was grateful for Liz standing up for him, but Dean's attitude concerning angels was getting to him. "You know what, Dean? I don't understand! Why can't you even consider the possibility-"

Dean looked past Liz and toward their little brother. "What, that this is an angel?"

Sam nodded eagerly. "Yes! Maybe we're hunting an angel here, and we should stop! Maybe this is God's will!"

Dean sighed, moving past Liz toward the pew. "Okay, all right. You know what? I get it. You've got faith. That's…hey, good for you. I'm sure it makes things easier." He sat again. "I'll tell you who else had faith like that…mom. She used to tell both me and Liz when she tucked us in that angels were watching over us. In fact, that was the last thing she ever said to us."

Liz sighed. "Dean…"

"You never told me that," Sam said, cutting his sister off.

"Well, what's to tell? She was wrong," Dean snapped. "There was nothing protecting her. There's no higher power, there's no God, and don't start with me about what those scriptures from the LDS church have written in them, Liz. I mean, there's just chaos, and violence, and random unpredictable evil that comes out of nowhere and rips you to shreds. You want me to believe in this stuff? I'm going to need to see some hard proof. You got any?" he waited for a moment and then continued. "Well, I do. Proof that we're dealing with a spirit."


They returned to the crypt and easily found Father Gregory's tombstone, which was covered in creeping vines; the Winchesters and Jo crouched before it.

"That looks like-" Sam began

"It's wormwood," Dean confirmed. "Plant associated with the dead; specifically the ones that are not at rest. I don't see it growing anywhere else, except over the murdered priest's marker. It's him, Sam."

Sam frowned, unsure. "Maybe."

"Maybe?" Dean repeated, surprised.

Sam shrugged. "Dean, I don't know what to think."

Dean groaned and then got another idea that would help fix his brother's head. "Okay. You want some more proof? I'll give you more proof."

"How?" Sam asked.

Dean grinned. "We'll summon Gregory's spirit."

Sam and Liz stared at Dean like he was the one going nuts while Jo was confused. "What? Here? In the church?"

Dean nodded as they stood up. "Yeah. Yeah, we just need a few odds and ends, and that séance ritual in Dad's journal."

Sam scoffed as they walked away from the tombstone. "Oh, a séance, great. Hope Whoopi's available."

Dean rolled his eyes. "That's funny, actually. Seriously. If Father Gregory's spirit is around, a séance will bring him right to us. If it's him, then we'll put him to rest."

"But if it's an angel, it won't show," Sam pointed out. "Nothing will happen."

"Exactly," Dean agreed. "That's one of the perks of the job, Sam: we don't have to operate on faith. We can know for sure. Don't you want to know for sure? And we can also have Hiro join us and be helpful, too."


After calling Hiro to meet them at the church, they went shopping; the Winchesters and Jo left a small grocery store, and Sam was holding a paper sack and smiling.

"Dude. I'll admit we've gone pretty ghetto with spell work before, but this takes the cake," he remarked, chuckling. "I mean, a Sponge-bob placemat instead of an altar cloth?"

Dean grinned. "We'll just put it Sponge-bob side down."

Sam laughed, and then stopped in shock, staring at something across the street: a young man was holding a bunch of flowers, and there was a bright white light glow behind him. "Dean, guys, that's it."

"What?" Dean asked.

Sam kept staring. "That's the sign!"

Dean looked around. "Where?"

"Right there, right behind that guy!" Sam exclaimed, pointing. "That's him, Dean. We have to stop him."


A/N: I'll admit that Dean refusing to believe in angels and insisting that they're not real did make me want to slap him when I saw this episode the first time. R&R everyone!