Supernatural: Season Two

Houses of the Holy (5)

Houses of the Holy (5)

Kylie's POV

My heart broke as I stood in front of the spirit of Father Gregory. Tears were streaming down my face, and it wasn't from awe, it was from heartache.

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

I took a hesitant step towards the spirit and shook my head. "Father," I breathed out shakily, "I'm sorry, but you're not an angel."

He looked at me with a shake of his head, disbelief and slight anger contouring his face. "Of course I am."

My head dropped as I stopped a sob that was going to escape my mouth. "No." I swallowed back the tears, and forced a soft smile on my face. "You're a man. You're a spirit. And you need to rest."

"I was a man." He smiled. "But now I'm an angel. I was on the steps of the church and I felt that bullet pierce right through me. But there was no pain." He shook his head as his face filled with joy. "And suddenly I could see . . . everything." He turned to look behind me. "Father Reynolds, I saw you, praying and crying here. I came to help you."

"Help me how?" Father Reynolds asked before he shook his head. "Those murders - that was because of you?"

"I received the Word of God. He spoke to me, told me to smite the wicked. I'm carrying out his will."

"You're driving innocent people to kill!" Father Reynolds exclaimed.

"Those innocent people are being offered redemption. Some people need redemption. Don't they, Kylie?" Father Gregory hummed.

I looked at my shoes again, my heart pounding in my chest.

"How can you call this redemption?" Father Reynolds shook his head.

"You can't understand it now. But the rules of man and the rules of God are two very different things."

"Those people. They're locked up." Sam admitted as he moved to stand next to me.

"No," Father Gregory shook his head, "they're happy. They've found peace, beaten their demons. And I've given them the keys to Heaven."

"No, No, this is vengeance, it's wrong. Thomas, this goes against everything you believed. You're lost, misguided." Father Reynolds explained sadly.

"Father. No, I'm not Misguided."

"You are not and angel, Thomas. Men cannot be angels." Father Reynolds shook his head.

"But . . . but I, I don't understand." Gregory spoke with confusion. "You prayed for me to come."

"I prayed for God's help." Father Reynolds corrected. "Not this. What you're doing is not God's will. 'Though shalt not kill'. That's the word of God."

"Let us help you." I let out through trembling lips.

"No." Gregory shook his head.

"It's time to rest, Thomas, to be at peace. Please, let me give you Last Rites."

Father Gregory thought a moment before nodding in resignation.

Sam wrapped his arms around me as Father Reynolds lifted his hands in prayer.

"Oh Holy Hosts above, I call upon thee as a servant of Christ to sanctify our actions this day, in fulfillment of the will of God."

Father Gregory flickered into a distorted image, his spirit starting to leave the world.

"Father Reynolds." He called with fear.

"Rest." Father Reynolds smiled as Gregory kneeled before him. "I call upon the Archangel Raphael, Master of the Air, to make open the way. Let the fire of the Holy Spirit now descend, that this being might be awakened to the world beyond."

Father Gregory glowed brightly before vanishing a short angelic-like chorus.

I couldn't hold myself up any longer, my knees becoming weak as I collapsed, Sam holding onto me the whole time.

"It's okay." He held me tight and dropped to his knees, rocking me as I sobbed.

"I don't want to do this anymore Sam . . . I don't want to do it."

Sam remained silent, just rocking me back and fourth as his hands went through my curls.

-----------------------

I don't remember getting back to the motel room, or even getting in the shower, but when I got out and wrapped in a fluffy towel, things started to come back to me and I was numb.

I put on my comfortable jeans and one of Dean's t-shirts before stepping out into the room where Sam was packing.

"You feeling better?" He asked, but I didn't answer him.

I went for the brush that was laying on my bed before sitting down cross-legged running the brush through my hair.

"I'm sorry Kylie." He let out softly as he sat down on the edge of his bed. "But this doesn't mean we're giving up."

I only nod just as the door to our room opened up, Dean walking in, looking as bummed out as me.

"How was your day?" Dean asked.

Sam stood up and placed a brotherly kiss on top of my head. "You were right. It wasn't an angel. It was Gregory."

I felt the sting in my heart with Sam's words making me visibly flinch.

I listened as Dean let out a sigh before moving to sit on the bed in front of me. He put a finger under my chin and tilted it up so I was looking at him. "I'm so sorry baby." He said softly before pulling out his flask and offering it to me.

I took it without a though, taking a long swig before handing it back to him. "I wanted to believe . . .so badly." I let out through tears. "It's so damn hard to do this, what we do." I shake my head. "You're all alone, you know? And . . . there's so much evil out there in the world. I feel like I could drown in it. And when I think about what's going to happen to me. How I'm just going to burn out . . ." I trailed.

"Yeah, well, don't worry about that." Dean grabbed my hands, bringing my knuckles up to his lips. "All right? Sam and I are watching out for you."

"We're not going to let anything happen to you." Sam agreed.

I let out a tearful laugh. "Yeah, I know you are. But Sam," I glanced at him. "You have your own crap going on and you need Dean. And I know you boys love me, I do, but you guys are brothers and have each other. I needed to think that there was something else, watching out for me, you know? Some higher power. Some greater good. And that maybe . . ." I trailed.

"Maybe what sweetheart?" Dean asked gently.

I shook my head as I teared up. "Maybe I could be saved." I sniffled before swallowing back my tears. "But, uh, you know, that just clouded my judgment, and you're right." I wiped a hand over my face. "I mean, we've gotta go with what we know, with what we can see, with what's right there in front of our own two eyes."

I watched as Dean looked down at our hands. "Yeah, well, it's funny you say that."

"Why?" I asked confused.

"Gregory's spirit gave you some pretty good information." He glanced between Sam and I. "That guy in the care was bad news. I barely got there in time."

I gritted my teeth. "What happened?"

Dean's face softened. "He's dead."

I relaxed slightly, my shoulder slumping. "Did . . . you?"

"No." He said immediately. "But I'll tell you one thing. If . . . the way he died, if I hadn't seen it with my own two eyes I never would have believed it. I mean . . . I don't know what to call it." He admitted with a shake of his head.

"What?" I shifted on the bed. "Dean, what did you see."

Dean bit his lip before looking up at me.

"Maybe . . . God's will."