Supernatural... But Better (Vol. I)

Chapter Thirty

"Anything silver goes in the fire."

Sam nodded, seeming to have calmed down some, but still pretty touchy. "I agree. So, Lori's still at the hospital. We'll have to break in."

Dean gestured to the house and the church. "Alright, take your pick."

His brother thought about it for a second. "I'll take the house."

"Okay," he agreed, and Sam began walking towards Lori's house. "Hey. Stay out of her underwear drawer."

Rolling his eyes, his brother continued on his way.

Dean turned to me. "Guess that means you're with me."

"Honestly, that's preferable," I responded, glad to finally not have to deal with Sam's irrational mood swings anymore.

Laughing humorlessly, he nodded. "Yeah. Well, shall we?"

We made quick work of the church, finding everything silver, everything partially silver, and everything that maybe sort of looked silver, hauling it down into the basement. There, we started a fire in the furnace, and began tossing things on.

After a little bit, Sam came down the stairs with his own bag. "I got everything that even looked silver."

Dean nodded at him. "Better safe than sorry."

The two of them worked together, then, to get everything on the fire, while I just kind of stood there and watched. Well, until I heard footsteps coming from upstairs. All three of us froze, listening.

"Stay here," I said softly, grabbing my gun. "I'll check it out."

I walked up the stairs as quietly as I was able, which was, in fact, pretty quiet indeed. As I rounded the corner at the top, I saw someone sitting in the pews, crying softly. I lowered my gun, tucking it in my waistband. It was Lori.

Walking over to her, I did my best to not startle her. "Lori?"

She stood abruptly, wiping the tears from her face. "Who are you? What are you doing here?"

I put my hands out placatingly. "My name's Annabeth. I'm—"

"Wait," she said, cutting me off. "You're Sam's friend, right? The one who saved my dad from that— that thing." I nodded. "Thank you."

She sat back down, and I sat down next to her. "What's wrong?"

"I've been trying to understand what's been happening. Why?" Lori explained, sighing. "Now I know, so I'm praying for forgiveness."

I furrowed my brows, confused. "Forgiveness for what?"

She met my gaze sadly. "Don't you see? I'm to blame for all this. I've read in the Bible about avenging angels."

I breathed an incredulous laugh. "Trust me, this guy— he's no angel."

She shook her head, looking away. "I was so angry at my father. Part of me wanted him punished. And then he came and he punished him."

Putting a hand on her shoulder, I tried to comfort her. "It's not your fault."

"Yes, it is," she disagreed. "I don't know how, but it is. I killed Rich. Taylor, too. I nearly killed my father."

"Lori...."

She swallowed, looking heavenward. "I can see it now. They didn't deserve to be punished. I do."

Suddenly, there was a noise at the front of the room. Standing, I looked at the altar, just in time to see all of the candles blow out, a wind passing through the church that was most certainly not natural.