Later That Day: Saint Gregory's.
"Damn it Sam!" Dean hissed in annoyance, flashlight playing across the gilded sign suspended beside the large double entrance doors, "I thought you said this was a girls' school."
"I said it was a mixed school Dean," Sam replied in hushed tones, crouched low against the side of the building and playing into the shadows, "Father Miner and Father Bennett worked in the boys school. The girls' buildings are across the road…with the nuns," his tone hitched slightly in irritation, "Now are you coming or not?"
"Aw man," his voice quiet and petulant against the silence of the night, Dean took one last look at the board before him and heaved a sigh before turning to follow his brother towards the thick black cover of the high stone walls surrounded by borders and tall, clipped hedges.
Saint Gregory's Roman Catholic School.
Day and Boarding.
Boys 7 – 18
Damn and double damn.
St. Gregory's was like a fortress, ringed with Castle keep-style ramparts that protected the various Chapels, dormitories, grounds and grand halls within. Tall and imposing structures rose at every turn, adorned with colossal stained glass windows and a sense of opulence that made Tsarist Russia seem almost minimalist in comparison.
No wonder they wanted to keep people out. It was hard to see the Church as an organisation needing charity when faced with so much grandeur.
Getting in had been no picnic either, requiring the lowest wall they could find, the hood of the Impala – which had not pleased Dean – several fairly risky handholds and then a less than reliable fifteen foot drop in the pitch black before they'd finally touched down on Holy ground. If they didn't find anything after all that, much less if Dean found any footprints on his car, he was going to need to kill something anyway. Perhaps wisely, Sam kept quiet.
Their plan of action had been decided that afternoon back at the motel, assisted by Sam's scribbled notes and an internet-provided aerial map of the school grounds that they'd spread out underneath the continual flickering of the one substandard light bulb the room had possessed.
Father Miner had been killed in his room which was right up in the boys dormitories and by no means easily accessible, Father Bennett however had been killed in a back room of the Chapel, a building always open to the teachers and pupils alike for the provision of twenty-four hour solace – which was probably just as well considering the circumstances, and practically a gift to Sam and Dean. The Chapel was also the easiest structure to spot amongst the myriad of rooftops and doorways, central in location, looming large and imposing above the carefully maintained grounds and framed by an intricate façade of arches, pillars and the most stunning spider-web stained glass window either of them had ever seen.
Whoever was in charge of school fees was obviously doing something right.
Dean let out a low whistle.
"Nice place."
"You can sightsee later," Sam responded quickly, ducking to a crouch beside the wall and glancing up as his older brother lent over him to scan the open space beyond. As the adrenaline began to course through his veins, Sam's voice took on an element of breathless anticipation, "Anything?"
Dean shook his head,
"No," placing a hand between Sam's shoulder blades he took one last look and then pushed against him gently, eyes constantly searching the horizon for movement, "Go."
Sam didn't need telling twice, practically exploding from the ground across the open expanse of lawn that lay between them and their destination, a dark shadow flitting through the black before emerging into the lights that illuminated the Chapel steps, taking them two at a time before sliding quickly back into the gloom behind one of the pillars.
Dean watched him carefully, squinting as the brightness of the lighting and darkness of the shadows combined to turn his brother from a clearly defined figure to the merest suggestion of movement, only just managing to catch the hand that waved for him to follow seconds later and taking off after it, as instinctively trusting of Sam's instructions as his brother had been of his.
As it turned out however, what might or might not have also been crossing the quad late at night was not their biggest concern, because the moment Dean's foot touched the top step – the home straight – the Chapel doors abruptly swung open, revealing a long line of tiny choir boys in full regalia and walking all Noah's Ark in pairs behind a scowling, grey-bearded Priest clutching a hymn book to his robes and trying to keep them in some semblance of order.
Dean stood statue-like for a second, wildly debating his options and realising just as quickly that he had none. As good as his acting skills were, even he couldn't deny that young men in battered leather jackets were not exactly common-place in the Roman Catholic world – particularly on the steps to a Private Chapel in the dead of night. He felt Sam's eyes on him without needing to look his way, both sharing a solitary thought.
Crap.
It was one they shared all-too often.
…As was the intake of breath they both took as their surroundings suddenly and without warning plunged into complete darkness around them.
A power-cut?
Dean didn't hang around to find-out, practically vaulting the last step and stumbling forward in the gloom until he felt Sam grab hold of his jacket and pull him swiftly into cover, his tone both relieved and worried,
"Did they see you?"
Dean pulled free of the grasp, shaking his head,
"I don't think so," he replied before pausing and trying to keep the hitch of fright out of his voice, "Close call though, huh? Maybe there is a God after all."
Even in the darkness he could see that Sam remained unamused.
Back on the steps, the little line of choirboys began to giggle in excitement at the unexpected turn of events, someone letting out a very un-Holy 'whoopee' before the voice of their Priest boomed at them through the darkness, bad temper very much in evidence.
"That's enough!" he snapped, "There's no need for silliness. In a moment the generator will – ,"
Abruptly the lights whirred back into action once more, blinding everyone with such ferocity that an audible groan rose up from the group, again met with condemnation by Father Grouch.
"Pull yourselves together! Really, I've never heard such nonsense. You should be ashamed," he stood hands-on-hips facing his small gathering, literally feet from where Sam and Dean were concealed, although thankfully oblivious to their presence, "Now. Back to your rooms. All of you. Quickly."
The boys did as told, heads hung low against the scornful glare of their tutor as they scuttled down the steps like lemmings and across the quad towards the other buildings. Each one of them silent. The Priest watched them go like a hawk, waiting until the last one had faded from view before letting his arms drop to his sides and shaking his head,
"Honestly," he hissed to himself before peering up into the cloudy night sky as if for the strength to continue. Whether he received it or not though was to remain unknown, as after a momentary pause he heaved a final sigh and headed off down the steps, into the darkness and away.
The Chapel inside was just as grand as outside – more so, even. The brilliance of the building's vaulted ceiling and sheer immensity of its proportions heightened by the warm glow of candlelight on stone, wood and the gold that adorned the various depictions, hangings and alter dressings. It took a second for Sam and Dean to adjust their eyes as they stepped in out of the harsh glare of the artificial lights, bitter evening chill turning into a warmth infused with the scent of burning as their footsteps sounded loudly against the empty expanse opening out in front of them.
Sam stood, mildly awed by the sight, reminded suddenly of a trip to New York he'd once taken with Jess, and how he'd watched her stand in Grace Church and just stare upwards in wonder at the style of it all, feeling about a million miles away from the bustle on the streets just outside the door. He was by no means traditionally religious himself, not a church-goer although that wasn't to say he didn't have his own beliefs, but there was no denying that something about Churches, Chapels and religious architecture inspired at the very least a respectful silence.
"Hey Sam?" Or maybe not, he sighed, as the moment was promptly broken by Dean's familiar tone, scathing, irritated and itching for action, "You waiting for the guided tour or something? Come on dude."
Heaving a long-suffering sigh, Sam rolled his eyes and set off down the aisle, plodding past his brother with a barely audible mutter,
"Jerk."
Dean heard it, the corners of his mouth twitching up in amusement at the sudden sullenness.
"Bi – ," he half-replied before stopping dead under an alabaster statuette of the Virgin Mary and swallowing hesitantly, "…Jerk."
Better to be safe than sorry…just this once....
The spot were Father Bennett had been found was apart from the main body of The Chapel, in the Sacristy, a room set-back for the Priests to meet and vest before services, modest, functional and, with the help of Sam's lock-picking skills, by no means off limits.
Flipping on the lights, Dean quickly ducked under the police tape, holding it up for Sam to follow before shutting the door back behind them. Obviously – and probably to the general displeasure of the Priests – the police still had work to do, which meant that the evidence was still largely intact. Including the dry but dark blood stains, and the rupturing of the floor itself, flagstones buckling upwards off the ground, others smashed into almost…footprint-type shapes.
Sam shared a hesitant look with Dean, bending down closer to it and following the trail towards a distinctly human-shaped hole smashed into the outer wall and temporarily covered from both the elements and prying eyes by a sheet of board. Whatever it was, it had either smashed its way in or out. Possibly both. Sam swallowed uncertainly,
"Maybe the thing from the Fantastic Four isn't such a crazy theory after all," he suggested slowly, voice quiet. Dean pulled a face,
"What? Sam, you don't seriously think – ,"
"I don't know what to think," came the truthful reply, "But from everything we've seen I wouldn't rule out some kind of…" he paused, the words seeming too Lord of the Rings even for his open mind, "…rock monster."
As the EMF meter continued to sit silently in Dean's hand, the older sighed heavily, knowing what came next and hating every minute of it.
"Research?"
"Yep."
Great. All that effort and not a single dead thing to show for it. Just great. Taking a deep breath, Dean pointed the semi automatic –safety on – in Sam's vague direction, using it for added emphasis as he spoke, voice low with characteristic I'm-not-happy-gruffness,
"Fine. But if I find so much as one footprint on the hood of my car, research or no research I'm coming back here and so help me God I am hunting down that sorry, stony-assed, son of a – ,"
"Dean Winchester hold your tongue!"
As another voice cut across the room, sharp, clear and obviously displeased, both men jumped, wheeling around wide-eyed as Dean's hands fumbled for a secure grip on his gun.
He was glad he kept it lowered.
Standing before them, arms hanging at her sides against the thick black material of a habit, stood a nun, face screwed into a scowl but eyes sparkling in welcome. She took a deep, shaking, breath, demeanour fading slightly as she stepped forward with her hands clasped excitedly,
"Boys," she breathed, seeming suddenly emotional, "I knew you wouldn't disappoint me."
Dean shared a look with his brother, conveying one prominent thought that Sam desperately hoped he would consider revising before asking out loud, what the hell? Luckily for all of them, he did.
"And you are?"
"My name is Sister Helena," came the reply, calmer and more composed, her anticipation only betrayed by the flash of sharpness that followed, "But you might know me best as your father did," they paused in shock, the very mention of John Winchester enough to make both throats catch in emotion.
"I'm Angel…and I need your help."
There you go, I did promise after all!
Thank you to my lovely reviewers! I am so grateful for your feedback!
I'm trying something a little bit different with this one, I really want it to feel like an episode, so we're going heavy on the mystery this time with total shoot-em-up chaos at the end! Anyway, as always, let me know what you think, and, oh, in case anyone's interested…
…IT'S SNOWING!