Author's Note: I should probably warn you not to expect updates this quickly. My plan is to update this fic every Sunday and finish by the end of February. I hope you all enjoy this chapter. Thanks for reading and if you have time after please leave a review. They help motivate me.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from Supernatural. All rights belong to the creators and writers of the show. I have also borrowed a line from the Santa Clause movie. I didn't come up with that line either.

Fallon was leaning against the wall outside their motel room when she heard someone call her name. She looked up in surprise and then smiled when she saw Sam walking towards her.

"Hey," she greeted.

"Why are you standing outside?" Sam asked.

"I left the room for a change of scenery, but when I got back, I remembered how much Dean is enjoying the vibrating, massaging bed and I was kind of afraid he might have taken advantage of both of our absence to, well, you know," Fallon explained. "I didn't want to walk in on that."

Sam laughed. "I'll check and make sure the coast is clear then." He opened the door and when she didn't hear any sounds of discomforted surprise she followed in after him.

"You gotta try this," Dean was telling Sam, referencing the vibrating bed. "I mean there really is magic in the Magic Fingers."

"Dean, you're enjoying that way too much," Sam said. "It's kind of making me uncomfortable, and Fallon's afraid to be in the same room as you."

"Well, what am I supposed to do?" Dean complained. "I mean, you two have got me on lockdown here. I'm bored out of my skull."

"Well, Dean, when you get your face shown on national T.V. being the suspect of a bank robbery it's best to stay on the down low for a while," Fallon said plopping down on the bed across from him. "And it's pretty rude to say you're bored when I've been staying behind when I can to keep you company."

"I'm not bored by your company," Dean said. "I just don't do well holed up."

"Well, we can't risk you just walking into a government facility when you're a suspect for robbery, Dean," Sam sighed. Dean just grumbled a response and Sam walked past him to the bathroom. Dean's bed finally stopped vibrating.

"Aw dammit!" Dean muttered. "That was my last quarter. Hey, you got any quarters?"

"No!" Sam cried. "And don't even ask Fallon to go find you one." Dean's shoulders slumped mid-turn as that was exactly what he'd been planning to do.

Fallon rolled her eyes and stood up and walked over to the bathroom door. "Were you able to speak with that crazy girl?"

"Yeah. Gloria Sitnick," Sam said. "And I'm not so sure she's crazy?"

"But she seriously believes that she was touched by an angel?" Dean asked joining the conversation.

"Yeah," Sam answered. "Blinding light, feelings of spiritual ecstasy, the works. I mean, she's living in a locked ward and she's totally at peace."

"Oh, yeah, you're right," Dean remarked sarcastically. "Sounds completely sane. What about the dude she stabbed?"

"Uh, Carl Gully, she said she killed him because he was evil," Sam said.

"Was he?" Fallon questioned. "I mean, evil is pretty relative."

"I don't know," Sam said. "I mean, I couldn't find any dirt on him. He didn't have a criminal record, he worked at the campus library, had lots of friends. He was a churchgoer."

"Doesn't sound evil," Fallon commented.

"Yeah. So, Gloria's just your standard issue wacko," Dean said. "I mean, she wouldn't be the first nutjob in history to kill in the name of religion."

"True that," Fallon agreed. "There's a whole ugly history of people killing each other for that reason."

"Good point," Sam said, "but she's the second in town to murder because an angel told them to. Little bit odd, don't you think?"

"Well, a little odd, yes. Supernatural? Maybe. But angels?" Dean said. "I don't think so."

"Why not?" Sam asked.

"Cause there's no such thing, Sam," Dean replied.

"Dean, there's ten times as much lore about angels as there is about anything else we've ever hunted," Sam said.

"Yeah, you know what?" Dean replied. "There's a ton of lore on unicorns too. In fact, I hear that they, they ride on silver moonbeams, and they shoot rainbows out of their ass."

Sam sat down next to Fallon on the bed. "Wait, there's no such thing as unicorns?"

"That's cute," Dean replied. "I'm just saying, there's just some legends that you just file under bull crap."

"And you've got angels on the bull crap list?" Sam said disbelievingly.

"Yep," Dean answered.

"Why?" Sam asked.

"Because I've never seen one," Dean answered.

"So what?" Sam replied.

"So, I believe in what I can see," Dean said.

"Seeing isn't believing," Fallon said. "Believing is seeing."

"You're really going to quote the Santa Clause movie right now?" Dean asked.

"Seemed fitting," Fallon replied. Dean smiled.

"So, what do you think's happening then?" Sam pushed. "If you don't think it could be an angel."

"This is a demon or a spirit," Dean said. "You know, they find people a few fries short of a happy mean, and they trick them into killing these random people."

"Maybe," Sam said.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Can we just…I'm going stir-crazy. Hey, let's go by Gloria's apartment, huh?"

"I was just there," Sam said. "No sulfur, no EMF…"

"You didn't see any fluffy white wing feathers?" Dean teased.

Sam sighed. "But Gloria did say the angel gave her a sign, right beside Carl Gully's doorway."

"Could be something at his house," Dean said brightly. "It's worth checking out."

When they arrived at Carl Gully's house Dean gestured to an angel figurine on the porch. "It's a sign from up above," he joked. "I think I learned a valuable lesson. Always take down your Christmas decorations after New Year's, or you might get filleted by a hooker from God. Ha."

"My mom might agree with you," Fallon said. "She always said that anyone who still had their decorations up in February should be fined."

"I'm laughing on the inside," Sam commented as he headed around the side of the house. Fallon and Dean followed him. They stopped when they came to a wooden storm cellar. "You know, Gloria said the guy was guilty to his deepest foundation."

"You think she literally meant the foundation?" Dean questioned.

"Well, there's one way to find out," Fallon said using her power to open the cellar doors. The three of them headed into the basement.

"Hey," Sam called after a moment.

"You got something?" Dean asked.

Sam pulled at something on the wall until it came loose. He grimaced. "It's a fingernail."

"Oh, I don't like where this is going," Fallon groaned.

"We need to get the shovels," Dean said.

"No, you don't," Fallon sighed. She raised her hands up, palms facing the wall, and curled her fingers into claws. As she pulled her hands into her shoulder the wall crumbled away, revealing a pile of skeletons.

"So much for the innocent, churchgoing librarian," Sam said dully.

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

"They're all females," Fallon said.

"What?" Dean asked.

"The skeletons," Fallon said. "They're all those of females. We learned how to differentiate between male and female skeletons in AP Biology."

"Fallon?" Sam questioned.

"We need to see how many girls have gone missing around here," Fallon stated. "Let's drop Dean back at the motel and then go to the library."

"Oh, c'mon!" Dean whined. "You're really going to lock me back up in the motel room?!"

Fallon felt equally both anger and grief as she looked over the dead girls' Facebook pages. She glanced through their pictures. All three of them had been beautiful girls who had clearly enjoyed life. They clearly had had a lot of friends and had been close to their families.

"Hey, did you find anything?" Sam asked coming up behind her.

"Look at these girls, Sam," she sighed. "They didn't deserve what happened to them."

"No. They didn't," Sam agreed quietly.

"Did you call the police?" Fallon asked shutting down the computer she'd been using.

"You know we can't do that Fallon," Sam said. "We may need to go back to Gully's house. We won't be able to do that if there's a police investigation."

Fallon felt her temper flare. "So, he just gets away with it!" she cried hotly. "He got away with it in his life and now he gets to get away with it after his death too?! These girls deserve justice. They deserve justice for the brutal abuse this man imposed on them!"

"Fallon, we don't know if this man… we don't know if that happened," Sam said trying to calm her down.

"We know what he did, Sam," Fallon said. "That's what men like Gully do. Who knows how long these girls had to suffer in that basement before he killed them."

"Fallon, only a forensic analysis could prove these girls were raped," Sam said. "Gully might have buried them in the basement for convenience sake only."

"You don't really believe that," Fallon replied. "And there won't be a forensic analysis because you won't notify the police. Carl Gully gets to get away with murder."

"Fallon…"

"Don't try to pacify me, Sam," Fallon snapped and teleported into the motel room.

Dean glanced up at her in surprise. "What did you find out?" She ignored him and stomped past him into the bathroom and slammed the door shut. The mirror frosted over with the strength of her anger. She ignored Dean's knocking on the door as she tried to calm herself down. Eventually she heard Dean back away from the door. Not long after Sam arrived back at the motel.

"What's wrong with Fallon?" she heard Dean ask.

"She's mad that I won't call the police to notify them of Gully's murder of those three women," Sam said.

"Well, considering what that monster most likely did to those girls that's unsurprising," Dean replied.

"I know," Sam said. "But we can't have the police beginning an investigation when we may still need access to Gully's house."

"I hope you didn't try that reasoning with her," Dean said. Sam didn't reply. "Dude!"

"I know," Sam sighed. "I don't think anything I could have said would make her feel better. How long has she been in the bathroom?"

"Since she got back," Dean said.

"Maybe I should try…"

"You don't have to try anything," Fallon said coming out of the bathroom. She'd cooled down enough to face them. "You're right. A police investigation could mess this case up for us. And it wouldn't bring those girls back, so I guess it doesn't matter whether we out Gully or not."

"I'm sorry, Fallon," Sam said sincerely.

Fallon shrugged. "Sometimes this job sucks."

"You can say that again," Dean agreed wrapping an arm around her shoulders as she sat down on the bed. "I have news, though. Whatever's behind this struck again."

"What?" Sam asked.

"I was listening to the police radio before you both got here," Dean told them. "There was this guy, Zach Smith, some local drunk. He went up to a stranger's front door last night. Stabbed him in the heart."

"And then went straight to the police and confessed?" Fallon questioned.

"Yep," Dean replied. "Roma Downey made him do it." He got up and peeled a post-it note from the mirror. "I've got the victim's address."

When they arrived at the victim's house Dean and Fallon took the upstairs while Sam stayed on the first floor. When Fallon and Dean didn't find anything, they went back downstairs and found Sam on the victim's computer.

"Find anything?" Sam asked.

"Well, Frank liked his catalog shopping, but that's about all we got," Dean replied.

"Not much here, except he's got this one locked file on his computer that I can't access," Sam said.

"I can take care of that," Fallon said. She reached out a hand and touched the screen. What happened next, she could only describe as an out of body experience. She found herself standing inside the computer on its desktop. She could see herself standing in-between Sam and Dean with her hand touching the screen. She could also see every file on the desktop. She walked over to the locked file and clicked on it. The file immediately opened and filled the screen. She saw herself step back from the computer and her conscious fell back to her normal perspective.

"That was new," Sam commented.

"Yeah, figured out I could do that by accident," she said. "I'm glad I was able to figure out how to free myself quickly." She watched Dean carefully for his reaction, but other than looking surprised he didn't seem too upset about another new power.

Sam had been reading the file when his expression twisted into one of disgust. "God."

"What?" Dean asked.

"Well, he's got these emails," Sam explained. "Dozens to this lady named Jennifer. This lady who's thirteen years old." Fallon felt the rage she'd felt earlier surge back through her veins. It must have shown in her expression because Dean suddenly walked over to stand behind her and began to massage her shoulders.

"Oh, I don't want to hear this," he groaned as he pulled her a little closer towards his torso.

"It looks like they met in a chat room." Sam said throwing a concerned look at Fallon. "These emails are pretty personal. Look at that. Setting up a time and a place to meet."

"Oh, how wonderful," Fallon spat.

"They were supposed to meet today," Sam said.

"Well, I guess if you're going to stab someone, good timing," Dean commented. "I don't know man, this is weird. I mean, sure, some spirits are out for vengeance, but this one's almost like a do-gooder. Like a…"

"Avenging angel?" Sam supplied. Fallon felt Dean step back. "Well, how else do you explain it, Dean? Three guys not connected to each other all get stabbed through the heart? At least two were world-class pervs, and I bet if you dug deep enough on the other guy…"

"Hey," Dean said cutting him off.

"What?" Sam asked dejectedly.

"You said Carl Gully was a churchgoer, right?" Dean said.

"Yeah?" Sam replied.

"What was the name of his church?" Dean asked.

"Our Lady of Angels," Sam said.

"Of course that'd be the name," Dean muttered under his breath before holding up a church flyer. "Looks like Frank went to the same church."

"So, let's go check it out," Fallon said.

They arrived at the church and began looking around, making it obvious they were new comers. Not long after their arrival a priest made his way over to them.

"Hello," he greeted. "I'm Father Reynolds. I don't believe I've seen you around here before."

"We just moved here," Dean said smoothly. "My name is Dean. This is my brother Sam."

"And who is the young lady with you?" Father Reynolds asked politely.

Fallon blinked in surprise, but quickly pasted a smile on her face. "Oh, I'm…

"She's my wife, Fallon," Dean answered wrapping and arm around her shoulders. Fallon had to place a hand over her mouth, pretending to yawn, to hide the fact that her jaw had just dropped open in shock. Sam coughed a few times trying to hide surprised laughter.

"I'm sorry," Sam said. "I think I picked up a slight cold during the move."

"I know how that goes," Father Reynolds assured him. "I caught a bug that had me out a week when I moved from my last parish. I'm assuming you all are here because you're interested in joining this parish?"

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

"Where'd you say you lived before?" Father Reynolds questioned.

"Fremont, Texas," Dean said.

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

"Sure, yeah, no it's uh, Father O'Malley," Dean said quickly.

"Dean, you're thinking of where we lived before Fremont," Fallon answered quickly using her ability to read minds to find out the actual name of the priest. "Father Shaughnessy was the priest of St. Teresa's parish."

"Right," Dean said. "We've had to move a bit the past few years."

"But we're just happy to be here now, Father," Sam said.

"And we're happy to have you," Father Reynolds replied. "We could use some young blood around here."

"Hey listen, I gotta ask," Dean said. "No offense, but, the neighborhood?"

"Well, it's gone to seed a little," Father Reynolds admitted, "but that's why what the church does here is so important. Like I always say, you can expect a miracle but, in the meantime, you work your butt off."

"My grandmother always says that too," Fallon said smiling.

"Your grandmother must be a wise woman," Father Reynolds said.

"We did here about the murders," Dean said bringing the conversation back to the neighborhood.

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

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

"Yes. Misguided souls to think that God's messenger would appear and incite people to murder," Father Reynolds said. "It's tragic."

"So, you don't believe in those angel yarns, huh?" Dean commented.

"Oh no, I absolutely believe," Father Reynolds stated. "Kind of goes with the job description."

"Father, that's Michael, right?" Sam asked referencing a painting hanging on the wall.

"That's right," Father Reynolds told him. "The archangel Michael with the flaming sword. The fighter of demons. Holy force against evil."

"So, angels aren't necessarily the Hallmark card version that most people think?" Fallon said. "They're fierce?"

"Well, I like to think of them as more loving than wrathful, but yes," Father Reynolds said. "A lot of Scripture paints angels as God's warriors."

"Well, thank you for speaking with us Father," Sam said as they stepped outside.

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

"Hey Father, what is all that for?" Dean asked pointing at a collection of items on the bottom step.

"Oh, that's for Father Gregory," Father Reynolds replied solemnly. "He was a priest here."

"Was?" Dean questioned.

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

"When did this happen?" Dean asked.

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

"Oh, how awful," Fallon said. "I'm so sorry."

"I am too," the priest said. "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.

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

"Those who ask shall receive," Fallon said. Dean gave her a look. "Matthew7:7-8."

"It was nice meeting all of you," Father Reynolds said. They smiled as the priest went back in the church.

Fallon then rounded on Dean. "Married?!" she cried.

"Well, Catholic priest," Dean replied awkwardly. "I thought maybe he wouldn't approve of a single woman living with two guys.

"So, you decided to marry me to you?" Fallon asked at the same time Sam said, "So you decided to marry her to you?"

"Would you have rather I said you were married to Sam?" Dean asked.

"No!" Fallon said. "Why didn't you just say I was your sister if you were concerned what the priest would think?"

"I don't view you as a sister," Dean said.

"And you view me as a wife?" Fallon cried.

Sam laughed. "Well, you two do fight like a married couple."

"No we don't!" Dean and Fallon both said. Dean shook his head.

"Look, it just came out," he said. "There's no need to make a big deal out of it. Just remember that's our cover if we have to come back to the church."

"Okay," Fallon said.

"Let's just focus our attention back to the case," Sam suggested.

"Well, it's all starting to make sense," Dean said. "Devoted priest dies a violent death? That's vengeful spirit material right there. And he knew all the other stiffs because they went to church here."

"And they probably confessed what they did in confession," Fallon said. "That's how our unsub knew about the victims' crimes."

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

"Aw, come on man, what's your deal?" Dean sighed.

"What do you mean?" Sam asked.

"You're really pushing the angel angle, Sam," Fallon said.

"You don't believe in angels?" Sam asked.

"I didn't believe in any of the things we've hunted before I started hanging out with you two," Fallon pointed out. "I'm not saying I don't believe, I just don't think it's likely."

"Why not?" Sam asked.

"As Father Reynolds said, no angel is going to incite people to murder," Fallon said. "Anyway, we know Father Gregory is interred here. Let's look into this angle. We'll come back at night to investigate the crypt."

When they came back at night, Fallon took a quick walk around the inside of the church before letting Sam and Dean inside.

"Coast clear?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, we're the only ones here," Fallon said as the boys stepped inside.

"That reminds me though. Here," Dean said shoving a small, plastic container into Fallon's hand. Inside was a fake diamond ring. Fallon gave him a look. "I got it from a vending machine in the motel lobby. You can wear it so the priest doesn't wonder why you don't have a wedding ring."

"Who are you?" Fallon and Sam asked incredulously.

Dean frowned. "What?" he asked grumpily. "I'm just trying to be nice and show you you're an important part of our team, and that I value your presence."

"Oh my god," Fallon sighed in realization. "Is that what this is about?"

"Well, it's just, you were really pissed a few weeks ago," Dean said rubbing the back of his neck worriedly. "I just wanted to make it up to you."

"Dean, you already have. You apologized," Fallon said. "And although I appreciate the gesture, you don't have to fake marry us to show you appreciate me and don't think of me as an unwanted nuisance. You can do that like not treating me like public enemy number one when I get a new power. You kept your cool when I did that thing with the computer earlier."

"So, you don't want the ring?" Dean asked.

Fallon sighed but smiled. "I'll keep the ring for this case," she said slipping it on her ring finger. "After all, you did use one of your quarters to get it for me rather than using it on that vibrating bed you like so much."

"What a sacrifice," Sam said sarcastically. "Can we get back to the case now?"

"Yes," Fallon said. "Let's go." She led the boys into the crypt, and immediately felt the presence of another spirit inside it. She quickened her pace and soon Dean was right beside her. They rounded a corner to a large room with various tombstones. Fallon looked at one that had vines covering it. It was the only one in the room like it.

"I think we found our unsub," Dean said. "I'm going to go tell Sam to get the lead out." Fallon nodded and stayed behind. She was inspecting the tombstone when she heard Dean anxiously calling his brother's name. She quickly fled out of the room and back down the hall to see Sam lying on the floor.

"Sam!" she cried dropping to her knees beside him. Suddenly, he jerked awake.

"You okay?" Dean asked.

"What happened?" Fallon asked.

"Yeah," Sam said dazed. "I'm okay."

"Come on," Dean sighed hauling Sam to his feet. He led them back out to the church and sat Sam down in one of the pews. Fallon was right behind them. Dean was looking at his brother cautiously. "You saw it didn't you?"

"Yeah," Sam replied. "Yeah, I saw an angel."

"You…" Dean stopped and then dug in his coat pocket before holding out a flask towards Sam. "Alright. Here."

"I don't want a drink," Sam said.

Dean shrugged and took a swig from the flask. "So, what makes you think you saw an angel?"

"It just, appeared before me and I just, this feeling washed over me, you know?" Sam said. "Like peace. Like grace."

"You sure nothing got slipped into something you drank?" Fallon suggested.

Sam sighed. "I'm serious," he said. "It spoke to me. It knew who I was."

"It's just a spirit, Sam," Dean sighed. "Okay? It's not the first one to be able to read people's minds. I mean, Fallon can do the same thing."

"Very true," Fallon agreed.

"Okay, let me guess," Dean continued. "You were personally chosen to smite some sinner. You've just got to wait for some divine bat signal, right?"

"Yeah, actually," Sam said.

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

"Actually, I did," Sam replied. "And the angel told me he hasn't done anything yet. But he will."

"So now it wants to take out people who haven't yet committed a crime, but potentially could?" Fallon cried. "That would be a lot of people in the population. This is jacked up."

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

"By stabbing them?" Fallon cried.

"You know," Dean cut in before Sam could reply, "you're supposed to be bad too. Maybe I should just stop you right now."

"You know what?" Sam huffed. "I don't understand! Why can't you even consider the possibility?"

"What? That this is an angel?" Dean said.

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

"Sam, God doesn't send angels to smite people," Fallon said. "He judges peoples' souls when they die. If they're bad, they go to hell. That's how it works."

"You don't know that," Sam said.

"It's what I believe," Fallon replied.

"Well, then why is it so hard for you to grasp that this is what I believe?" Sam asked.

"Okay, alright," Dean said. "You've got faith. That's… good for you. I'm sure it makes things easier. I'll tell you who else had faith like that. Mom. She used to tell me when she tucked me in that angels were watching over us. In fact, that was the last thing she ever said to me."

"You never told me that," Sam said.

"Well, what's to tell?" Dean replied bitterly. "She was wrong. There was nothing protecting her. There's no higher power, there's no God. 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?" Sam said nothing. "Well, I do. Proof that we're dealing with a spirit. Come on."

Dean got up and headed back for the crypt. Fallon and Sam followed him. Fallon picked up her pace, so she could stand beside him and grabbed his hand giving it a squeeze. She went to let go, but he held on, giving her a small smile. When they arrived back in the room with Father Gregory's tombstone, they stood aside so Sam could see the vines.

"That looks like…"

"It's wormwood," Dean said. "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."

"Maybe," Sam replied.

"Maybe?" Dean questioned incredulously.

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

"Okay," Dean sighed aggravated. "You want some more proof? I'll give you more proof."

"How?" Fallon asked.

"We'll summon Gregory's spirit," Dean replied.

"You're going to hold a séance in a church?!" Fallon cried scandalized.

"Yeah, we just need a few odds and ends and that séance ritual in Dad's journal," Dean said.

"Oh, a séance," Sam said sarcastically. "Hope Whoopi's available."

"That's funny, actually," Dean replied dryly. "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 said. "Nothing'll happen."

"Exactly," Dean said. "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?"

"I am not holding a séance in a church," Fallon stated. Both boys turned to her with surprised looks.

"You're not religious," Dean said.

"No, but there are just some lines that shouldn't be crossed," Fallon replied.

"Well, you don't have to participate," Sam said.

"Good. Cause I won't be," Fallon said and walked out of the crypt.

Fallon was reading through a magazine in the Impala the next morning while the boys were in a store shopping for things they would need for their séance. She had held firm on her desire to not participate in something so sacrilegious, refusing to even shop for items they would need. Her protests on the matter didn't seem to matter to either of the Winchester brothers, but at least a séance in a church wouldn't be on her permanent record. She glanced up when Dean got into the car and started her up, and then frowned when she heard Sam banging on the window on the passenger side.

"Dean unlock my door," Sam shouted from outside the car.

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

"Dean!" Sam yelled, but Dean was already pulling away.

"What the hell?" Fallon cried from the back seat.

"He saw the signal," Dean explained. "We need to follow this guy."

"Did you need to be so dramatic about it?" Fallon asked popping into the passenger seat.

"I had time for nothing less," Dean replied. Fallon rolled her eyes but turned her gaze to glance out the windshield. They had quickly caught up to the guy, who was pulled over on the side of the road. Dean pulled in behind him. Not long after a woman came out of an apartment building and slid into the passenger seat of their suspect's car. When he pulled out, Dean did too. They followed him a few blocks before the car turned into an alley. When they got up to the alley the man's car was nowhere to be seen.

"Dammit!" Dean hissed slamming a fist on the steering wheel.

"No worries. I've got it," Fallon said and used her power to teleport to the man's location. She found his car parked in another dark alley. She frowned as she saw him suddenly kiss the woman in the passenger seat. It became apparent quickly to her what was going on, and she felt anger burn through her and the world went red. She marched over to the driver's side door, using her power to wrench it open.

"Let her go!" Fallon hissed grabbing onto the man's shirt caller and dragging him from the car. He landed on the ground at her feet.

"I wasn't doing anything," he cried.

"LIAR!" Fallon shouted holding an arm out to her side and sending the man flying into the wall of a building nearby. She pinned him there and curled her fingers into a fist. The man screamed in pain.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Please stop," he begged.

"No," Fallon said making the same gesture again. His screams were louder this time.

"Fallon, stop!"

She glanced over her shoulder and saw Dean approaching her. "He deserves it," she said turning back to face the crying man.

"I'm not saying he doesn't," Dean replied. "He deserves everything you're doing in more, but you're going to kill him, Fallon." Fallon paused her chest heaving with the strength of her anger. She was about to make the gesture again. "You're not a murderer, Fallon." She sighed and as the breath left her body so did her anger. She stepped back from the man and he crumpled to the ground unconscious.

Assured that she wasn't going to kill the man anymore, Dean rushed over to the woman the man had been about to assault. "Are you okay?" he asked. "Are you okay?" Fallon turned to them and saw the woman was shooting terrified looks at her. She felt a pang of guilt flood through her.

Dean noticed and forced the woman to look at him. "She's not going to hurt you," he said.

While both were distracted the man, who had gained consciousness, got up and got into his car. "Dean!" Fallon cried.

"Do you have a cell phone?" Dean asked the woman. She nodded. "Call 9-1-1." Dean ran back to the Impala with Fallon and they took off after the man. They tore across lanes cutting people off in order to stay on the man's tail. At one point they drove off the road in their mad car chase. Suddenly, a pickup truck with metal poles that was in front of the man they were targeting came to a quick stop. One of the poles came loose and flew through the windshield of the man's car. Fallon could see part of the pipe come through the driver's seat after impaling the driver. Dean quickly swerved into the next lane and drove away. He parked the car a few blocks away. They sat for a moment before they both looked at each other.

"I didn't do that," Fallon said.

"I know you didn't," Dean told her. He got out of the car and pulled out his cell phone. Fallon stayed in the passenger seat and closed her eyes. She had almost killed a man. She hadn't even thought about what she was doing. She'd just gone straight in for the kill. Even worse, it had felt good. After a few minutes, Dean came back.

"Did you call the police?" Fallon asked, her eyes closed.

"Yeah," Dean answered.

"Good," she sighed and looked over at Dean, who was staring at her in concern. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" Dean asked.

"For what?!" Fallon said incredulously. "For almost killing someone!"

"But you didn't," Dean said.

"Only because you stopped me," Fallon replied.

"I didn't do anything," Dean disagreed. "I only pointed out the obvious. The only one who could have stopped you from killing him was you. And you did, because, as I said, you're not a murderer."

"No, just a vengeful spirit," Fallon muttered.

"You're not vengeful," Dean stated. Fallon shot him a look. "You're not. You reacted how anyone who's been a victim of rape would have wanted to act in that situation. Considering your past, Fallon, it's not surprising you reacted the way you did. That's only human."

"But I'm not human. I'm…"

"Fallon, you're more human than anyone I've ever met," Dean said with conviction.

Fallon shook her head but smiled. "Thanks," she said.

"You're welcome," Dean answered. "And by the way, I also tipped the cops about Carl Gully and that other perv."

"You did?" Fallon asked surprised.

"They shouldn't get away with what they did," Dean said. "Their victims deserve justice."

Fallon's eyes welled up with tears and she threw her arms Dean's neck. "Thank you!" she cried. He hugged her back, their positions awkward as they leaned between seats. When they broke the hug, they were both smiling.

"Do you think Sam already completed the séance?" Fallon asked.

"Yeah," Dean answered. "I'm sure he's bummed too. We're gonna get back to the motel with a brooding Sam."

"We better go cheer him up then," Fallon said. Dean flashed her a smile and they pulled back out on the road.