Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or any of its characters.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed!

XKaterinaNightingaleX- Thank you! Yeah, that was my favorite scene in the episode!

ccgnme- Haha, yeah, I thought it would be a totally Sam thing to say.

blue-daisies- Yeah, I'm notoriously known for my cliffies.

Garideth- Haha, yeah, I love that line too, but Cas comes first, after all!

By the way, fanfiction is being a pain, and it doesn't let my stories show up, so you're gonna have to read this from my profile.

Chapter name borrowed from a Roman- Catholic prayer.

Wow, that sounded odd.

Lyrics borrowed from Collin Raye.

If you get there before I do, don't give up on me,

I'll meet you when my chores are through,

I don't know how long I'll be,

But I'm not gonna let you down, darling, wait and see,

And between now and then, till I see you again,

I'll be loving you.

Love, Me.

CHAPTER TWENTY- COME, HOLY SPIRIT

"It's not an angel."

Castiel almost looked close to annoyance as Sam refused to believe him.

"Maybe it's hiding from you, Castiel," Sam forged ahead.

"Maybe it's stronger."

I glanced uneasily between the two of them as Castiel's eyes flashed.

"Uh-"

Dean saw it, too, and pulled Sam away.

"Drop it, Sam, I've got proof we're dealing with a spirit."

~Supernatural~

Father Gregory's tombstone was covered in creeping vines.

Sam crouched down next to it.

"That looks like-"

"It's wormwood," Dean nodded.

"Plant associated with the dead; specifically the ones that are not at rest. I don't see it growing anywhere else, do you? It's him, Sam."

"Maybe."

Dean sighed in exasperation.

"Maybe? Sam, you heard Castiel. You're seeing the wormwood. What else do you need?"

Sam turned away.

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

"Fine."

Dean stood up.

"You want more proof? We'll summon Gregory's spirit."

"What?" Sam's eyebrows shot up.

"Here? In the church?"

"Yeah," Dean walked away from the crypt.

"We just need a few odds and ends, and that séance ritual in Dad's journal."

"Oh, a séance, great." Sam rolled his eyes.

"Hope Whoopi's available."

"That's funny, actually," Dean deadpanned. "Now, come on."

…

We left the small grocery store.

Sam smiled as he held the paper bag.

"Dude. I'll admit we've gone pretty ghetto with spellwork before, but this takes the cake. I mean, a Spongebob placemat instead of an altar cloth?"

Dean was unruffled, smirking slightly at Castiel's face.

"We'll just put it Spongebob side down."

I laughed with Sam, looking curiously at him when he stopped in shock, staring at the man across the street.

"Dean, that's it."

"What?"

Sam pointed at him.

"That's him, Dean! We have to stop him."

The man crossed the street, and Sam made to go after him.

Dean pulled him back.

"Wait a minute."

"What are you doing?" Sam demanded.

"Let me go."

Dean glared at him.

"You're not going to kill somebody because a ghost told you to, are you insane?"

Sam returned his scowl.

"Dean, I'm not insane, I'm not going to kill him. I'm going to stop him."

"Define 'stop, huh?" Dean raised an eyebrow.

"I mean, what are you going to do?"

"Dean, please," Sam pleaded.

"He's going to hurt someone, you know it."

Dean capitulated surprisingly easily.

"All right, come on."

Too easily.

The boy had gotten into his car and pulled away.

Dean got into the driver's side of the car.

I was almost about to slide into the backseat when Sam found the door was locked.

"Dean," Sam fumed. "Unlock my door."

Dean shook his head.

"You're not killing anyone, Sam. I got this guy, you do the séance."

He jerked a hand at me.

"Take Bambi with you. Pretty Boy can keep you company."

Castiel bridled in indignation.

~Supernatural~

Sam knelt before Gregory's grave as I spread out the small white candles around the large black one.

I bit back a smile as I noticed the Spongebob placemat.

Castiel eyed it with ill-concealed dislike.

Sam picked up the journal and started reading.

"Amate spiritus obscure, te quaerimus, te oramus nobiscum colloquere aput nos circita."

I sprinkled the herbs on the black candle, and it flared brightly.

I squeaked in alarm as another priest entered.

"What are you doing? What is this?"

Sam stood up uneasily.

"Uh, Father, please. I can explain. Um…. actually, maybe I can't."

He swallowed.

"Um. This is a, a séance."

"A séance?"

Father Reynold's voice rose.

"Enough. You're coming with me."

"Father, please, just wait a second!"

He pulled us to the exit, freezing as Castiel stiffened.

"Stop."

A bright, white glow filled the room, and I flung an arm over my eyes.

I placed a hand on Sam's arm as his face crumpled in disappointment.

Father Reynolds stared in awe.

"Oh my god! Is that, is that an angel?"

Castiel pulled me away from the light.

"Hardly. I'm the angel."

The priest gaped at him.

"No, it's not," Sam said bitterly. "It's just Father Gregory."

The light coalesced into a young, handsome priest.

"Thomas?"

Gregory smiled.

"I've come in answer to your prayers."

…

Sam approached the spirit cautiously.

"Sam." He turned around to face him.

"I thought I sent you on your path. You should hurry."

"Father, I'm sorry," Sam shook his head. "But you're not an angel."

"Of course I am," Gregory looked at him in disbelief.

"No."

Castiel crossed the floor.

"You are a man, Thomas. A spirit. And you need to rest."

Gregory looked at him confusedly.

"I was a man."

Castiel shook his head, holding out his hand.

It glowed with bluish-black light.

"Men cannot be angels. I am an angel, not you."

Father Gregory looked at him, perplexed.

"But they asked for help."

Castiel gripped his arm.

"It's time you went, Thomas. You have served God well. It's time to go."

The priest's eyes flitted around helplessly.

"But-"

Castiel stopped him.

"Your place in heaven is granted, Thomas. Let me help you."

Father Gregory hung his head.

Castiel stepped forward, placing a hand on his forehead.

Gregory's form flickered.

"Be at peace."

Father Gregory vanished.

~Supernatural~

I sat on my bed, the photo album heavy in my hands.

I opened it finally, almost reluctantly, starting in surprise as a square of cream paper fell out.

I looked at the name written in spiky green ink on the paper.

Odette.

I froze.

I knew that untidy scrawl.

I opened the letter with numb fingers, steeling myself to read it.

Dear Odette,

This is probably stupid, and I know you'll make fun of me later, but I had to write this. It's also pretty morbid, but then again, you knew that anyway.

I promised you I'd never leave you, and I mean to keep that promise. But if something happens to me, I just want you to know that I love you, and that you've got to keep going.

We've been through hell together; Odette, and you're the bravest person I know.

Live up to that.

You're strong, you don't need me.

Just keep going.

If I'm gone, you still have your family.

You have Sarah, and most importantly, you have your brother.

That's all you'll ever need.

And if I'm ever gone, Odette, don't cry for me.

I'll always be there, even when you think I'm not.

You're the most amazing person I've ever met, Odette, and you could have anything and everything you ever wanted.

I've made you a promise, now you have to promise me something.

If I'm not around anymore, promise me you won't give up.

Promise me you'll keep going, and you'll live your life to the best you can.

I know you can do it.

That's all I'm asking from you.

Promise me.

Any minute now, you're going to walk through this door and laugh at me for writing something this sappy, and I know everything will be all right.

But I have to be sure.

So, keep living, Odette, and be the beautiful, quirky, zany, wonderful person you've always been.

Never give up hope.

Carry on, the way you always have, and I'll be the happiest boy on earth.

That's all I ever want.

Things will get better, Odette, I promise.

I've never broken a promise to you yet, and this time will be no different.

You're going to be happy, Odette.

I'll make sure of it.

All my love,

Jared.

The letter fell from my fingers as the hole in my chest pulsed with pain, and I curled into a ball on my bed, tears leaking out from under my eyelids.

I picked it up and smoothed it out, putting it in the pocket over my chest.

"I promise, Jared," I whispered.

"Even if it kills me, I promise."

And I buried my head in my hands and sobbed.