Chapter 4
Dean reached out a hand to further help the priest regain his balance but the older man lightly brushed it aside offering on a small smile before continuing his way to the shadowed corner where the faint outline of a hunched man was visible. Dean watched as the priest greeted the man, and studied their exchange for a bit, before turning his attention back towards his brother.
He couldn't help but notice the change in Sam's pallor. He'd paled considerably and was fingering his shoulder, rubbing it slightly as though it was sore. Dean reacted quickly when it appeared that the younger's knees were going to give out on him, and helped Sam down into the nearest pew.
Dean kept his hands on Sam's shoulders and knelt down in front of him to look his little brother in the eye. But Sam shrugged off his grasp, and jerked his head to the side without a word, pretending to be interested in the Gothic design carved into the slate floor.
"You okay?" Dean asked quietly, casting a glance over Sam's shoulder to see if Father Andrew had seen the incident, but the man was still deep in conversation.
"I don't know." Sam muttered softly, placing his head in his hands and running his fingers through his dark hair before bringing his face to his brothers. "Must just be worn out from last night"
"Right." Dean replied knowingly as he slumped down heavily in the seat next to his brother. "So what, this church was in your nightmare or something?"
Sam's body tensed at the question and he opened his mouth to offer a smart remark but he shut it just as quickly when he heard Father Andrew approaching. Dean gave him a look that screamed "pull it together" and promptly stood when the priest reached them.
"I'm sorry, gentlemen, but a situation has come up and it demands my utmost attention at the moment. I trust you understand." Father Andrew stated solemnly yet patronizing.
"Of course." Dean nodded, and offered his hand.
"You are welcome to join us for Mass this evening. We will be having a fellowship afterwards. We can talk then if you'd like." The priest continued, accepting Dean's gesture and shaking his hand.
"We'll think about it." Dean smiled tightly and mentally went over every reason he could possibly think of to not attend a Mass or whatever the hell a fellowship was.
"Please do and feel free to wander around. The staff should be able to answer any further questions you may have." Dean nodded once again, and waited until Father Andrews form was completely out of sight before smirking over at Sam. "Dude, can you imagine me, or any Winchester for that matter, reciting Hail Mary?"
"Probably would be the cleanest thing out of your mouth in a long time." Sam huffed, rubbing at the dull ache that seemed to have moved to his chest. He caught the elder's worried glare, quickly dropped his hand, and rose to full height. "So, where do you want to start?"
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The self guided tour was more of a complete investigation of every inch of the property. Static rang out from Dean's homemade EMF, and the scratchy noise was beginning to grate on Sam, not to mention the flurry of sarcastic comments escaping his brother's mouth as he passed every religious artifact and his failed attempts to censor himself in "God's house". It was a blessing and a curse, Sam supposed, because the retorts signaled his brother's mending, yet increased the pounding ten-fold in his head.
He had to get away, if not momentarily. Sam informed Dean he was going to check the back hallway, absently massaging his shoulder. Dean hadn't responded right away, and Sam was worried that he would disagree and insist on accompanying him. But after a minute or so, Dean had shrugged and said he'd meet him back at the entrance in fifteen.
Sam wandered down the first corridor he saw, stopping when the hallway ended revealing a two-way intersection. He glanced right and saw that the hall stretched onward, dotted with thick oak doors which he assumed were offices or storage. He turned his head left, expecting somewhat of the same sight, but was surprised to find that that corridor abruptly ended a few feet away. Nothing but a small table with a few small token items set against the left wall and a flowing, brightly colored tapestry spanning the entire length and width of the end wall.
He approached the hanging banner slowly, carefully studying the intricate patterns that ran their way throughout. Their origin stemming from the symbol centered on a background of dark blue. Deftly, he stretched out a hand and traced his fingers along the golden threads, captivated by the sheer artistry of the cloth. The very instant his touch reached the old symbol, the pain reignited in his shoulder and a sense of panic overtook him.
Sam drew his hand back as though the fabric had burned him and held it to his chest. His eyes darted back and forth scanning the area for any unwanted onlookers but found none. He glanced down at his watch in efforts to calm himself but only groaned when he realized the time.
Practically running, Sam made it to the main sanctuary and grimaced when he saw Dean, arms crossed, glaring at him. He offered no reason for his tardiness, despite the elder's constant questioning, but only stated he was hungry and Dean needed to eat. The statement solicited the desired result, as Dean automatically set about whining that he wasn't hungry and if Sam didn't stop shoving food down his throat he was going to run away. Sam chuckled at the comment reminding Dean he'd have to walk seeing as he was in possession of the car keys, slid into the driver's seat, and headed off to the diner.
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Dean mumbled a few choice phrases before slumping down in the booth across from Sam. He allowed his gaze to drift to the surrounding groups huddled together over a late lunch and was glad that the crowd was small. He tried to find Sarah amongst the small ensemble of waitress chatting in the corner but didn't see her. Sighing, he focused back on Sam, whose face was currently hidden behind the menu.
"Why couldn't we just eat at the hotel?" Dean whined, at least if he did so at the hotel, he could get away with picking at whatever was in front of him while Sam searched the Internet, but here, all the attention was on eating something he really didn't want to do.
"Because, I want real food." Sam replied sharply, his head burrowed somewhere between Sandwiches and Specialties.
"Just because it's fast doesn't mean it isn't real." Dean stated smugly, bringing up his past choice he'd been so excited to see along the drive back although Sam had shot it down the second it hit the air.
"We are not doing this again, Dean." Sam sighed, his eyes peering above the menu.
"Doing what again?" Dean asked innocently.
"Shut up."
Dean had a good comeback, but it was thwarted by the gray-haired, slightly plump waitress who approached, pen in hand. They ordered quickly and didn't have to wait long before the hot food was set before them. Dean's face contorted into a look of disgust when he was handed the greasy burger. The thing was massive.
"Eat." Sam commanded, taking a chunk out of his own chicken sandwich.
"That?" Dean questioned incredulously, pointing at the thick slab of beef covered with condiments. "No, it could kill me."
"You ordered it." Sam replied trying to keep his aggravation aside.
"Only because you made me." Dean shot back, smirk in place.
"Could you at least try?" Sam muttered, rubbing his temples.
"Yeah, sure, I could but I re--"
"Dean!" Sam interrupted loudly, his response putting him on the receiving end of many a scrutinizing look from the surrounding patrons. Taking a deep calming breath, he continued "You need to eat something because I don't know when we are going to get back to the hotel tonight and if it's late then I don't know whether or not we are going to get a chance to eat something healthier than M&Ms."
"Where exactly do you think we're going?" Dean asked, eyebrows raised in confusion, he was under the impression he was going back to hotel to sleep.
"Back to the church." Sam replied, before shoving another big piece of lunch in his mouth.
"There is no way in hell I am going to a Mass, Samuel David Winchester. No way in hell." Dean stated firmly, his eyes wide at the sheer ludicrous suggestion.
"Relax, moron, we're not attending the Mass, we going to investigate during the Mass. Everyone will be busy so we can go wherever."
"We already searched the church this morning." Dean pointed out, the first go around had wore him out, and he honestly didn't know if he could handle a second go around. Not that he'd ever admit it.
"I know, but we missed something. I know it."
"Go on."
"When I was checking the back halls, I saw this tapestry and when I touched it, I don't know, man. I sensed something." Sam quickly shoved another big bite into his mouth before he had to go any further. He didn't want to even begin to go into what he'd sensed when Father Andrew had touched him not until he knew more.
"Alright, psychic wonder. But if I even hear you muttering the Lord's Prayer I am out of there, you hear me?"
"Yeah, I got it. My big brother is deathly afraid of anything resembling a church service." Sam grinned wide, before wiping it off his face and replacing it with a stern gaze upon viewing Dean's untouched food. "Now, eat."
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Sam led the way, as the brothers weaved their way through the dim halls grateful for the Latin prayers that allowed them to speak without worry. They came to a halt in front of the huge tapestry and Dean had to admit it was a beauty, a little freaky, but a great work of art.
"Looks like a cross" The younger stated matter-of-factly, illuminating the center symbol with the beam from his flashlight and studying it yet again. His hands once again traced the patterns, but avoiding the mark. A heavy golden-red strand caught his eye and he followed its course. It's beginning forged from the intersecting lines of the symbol.
"Yeah, but not one I've ever seen." Dean spoke, through a yawn. He saw no point in trying to stifle it, Sam knew he was tired.
"Almost like a T, yeah? I mean, the upper part of the cross is gone." Sam asked, looking over his shoulder to the elder, who had begun occupying himself with the token items on the adjacent table.
"I guess." Dean cocked his head, eyes squinting as he focused back on the symbol. "Kind of."
"It's a start." Sam mumbled, wiping out his cell phone, fiddling with the flash before snapping a picture. Placing the phone back in his jacket pocket, the younger dared to reach out. Sam's fingers brushed the symbol, and in that instant, images from his nightmare were freed back into his conscious mind.
With more force that necessary, Sam pulled the tapestry from the wall, and began running his hands against the cool stone behind it. He worked to make contact with every stone, his fingers moving along the block edges of the slabs. The younger was beginning to think his efforts were in vain when his right hand connected with a small but noticeable rise in the otherwise smooth stone.
"Dean." Sam murmured forcefully, glad that his brother quickly joined his side. "Look."
"It's a stone, Sam. S as in Sammy, t as in turtleā¦" Dean teased, nudging Sam in the arm, who was clearly less than impressed by the joke.
"You're such a dumbass." Sam muttered, continuing to scrutinize the slab.
"I'm not the one who's thrilled to find a stone." Dean smirked, but the expression faded instantly into one of shock when Sam pushed against the stone block.
The brothers watched in fascination as the huge wall that had blocked their path disappeared from their sight, revealing a dark corridor lined with unlit torches. Dean shot a nervous glance around the hall to make sure they weren't being watched, only to find that when he turned around Sam's body was already disappearing down the hidden path.
"Sammy!" Dean whispered angrily, clutching his flashlight tightly as he moved to follow his idiot little brother who vanished around the corner "Where the hell do you think you're going?"
Sam didn't give a reply for the simple fact he couldn't get his mouth to work properly. Upon turning the corner, he'd entered a large circular room, the molded walls aligned with shelves, some covered with large engraved stone, others open revealing decaying corpses.
The large stained table in the middle of the room drew his attention and he walked stealthily towards it. Darkened splatters adorned the carved design and Sam didn't have to guess what they were. He swallowed the bile attempting to rise in his throat, and stepped away from the altar.
His aim to exit the crypt entirely was halted when his eyes fell upon a weathered book resting on the uneven floor slightly beneath the place of sacrifice. Kneeling down, Sam reached for it. He swatted it towards him and snatched it up. A move he regretted immensely as white-hot agony ripped through his chest. Instinctively, he hurled the book against the wall, the release ebbing the flow of pain. He clutched his shoulder and ventured another look at the cursed book, his eyes widening when the cross that had adorned the ornate hanging was imprinted on the cover. Sam heard Dean's hurried footsteps and quickly rose, trying his hardest to convey passivity as the elder came into view, but his tone revealed his urgency.
"We need to get out of here."
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The ride to the hotel was silent. Dean fought hard against the sleep that beckoned him and Sam silently warred with the persistent throb in his shoulder and chest. Once, in the room, Sam didn't even comment on the way Dean dropped heavily, not to mention silently, into bed with every article of clothing on, including his shoes.
Instead, Sam hustled into the bathroom, yanking off his shirt and staring frighteningly into the cracked mirror. Chewing hard on his lower lip, Sam fingered the patch of fiery red that had settled over his heart, his eyes intently following the thin white lines that vaguely resembled an outline resting in the raw skin's center. He had been chosen.
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Alright there ya have it! Thanx for reading and lemme know what you think...it inspires me (LMAO)
