Leading in the Darkness

By Tidia, September 2007

Beta: Ridley C. James

Rating: Let's say teen

Disclaimer: I do not own or profit from Supernatural or its characters.

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Chapter 2/6

"We're with the FBI." Dean flashed a badge to the priest. Sam was not willing to lie to a man of the cloth. The older Winchester had no such qualms.

Father Martin blinked. The priest was young, probably just out of the seminary with blonde short hair. He was a stocky man, shorter than Dean in stature. "The FBI? I was told this would be handled locally."

"You have some friends in high places, Sir." Sam replied. Dean coughed, covering his guffaw. His brother looked like a choir boy, which evidently placed the priest at ease.

"Well, how can I help you?" He retook his seat in the living room of the rectory, and gestured for Dean and Sam to be seated.

Sam sat in the overstuffed chair, while Dean decided the hardback chair was more comfortable, and wouldn’t envelope him. "We'd like to see where the relics were stolen from."

"Who has access to the relics?" Sam quickly followed up.

"The deacons, priests of course. . ." Father Martin ticked off the list.

"The parishioners?" Dean interrupted. If it was a small set of people who had access then the case would be easier.

"No, only on holy days or at the discretion of myself and Father Gomes do the relics go on display."

"Can we have a list of anyone who has access?" Dean asked. He wondered why the police hadn’t solved the case, especially with a limited list of suspects.

"We gave that to the police already." Father Martin leaned forward from the couch in suspicion.

And Sam lied effortlessly, probably because in their personal experience it was the truth. "Father, although our jobs are to help people, unfortunately there is always a breakdown in communication between the local and the federal law enforcement."

"They stay out of our way, and we stay out of their way until they call for help." Dean added with a grin.

"Very well, I will have the secretary give you a copy. I guess you two want the tour?" The young priest stood up and gestured for the brothers to follow.

The church wasn't well secured. Some gates with locks were the only deterrent.

"Father, have you thought about investing in a sophisticated alarm system?" Sam asked, noticing the same lack of protection.

The priest chuckled. "The items are valuable and irreplaceable. They cannot be insured so what is the use of a complicated alarm system? This is the first time anything like this has ever happened according to Father Gomes."

"I hope it's the last." Dean answered, wondering if other people would become tempted again.

There were two adorned brass gates, opened with a skeleton key leading to the relic sanctuary. It was a little cooler in the room; they had descended a flight of stairs first to get to the location.

Sam completely took in the area in a full 360 degree turn, looking at the skeleton covered by fine gauze.

"That is Saint Demetrius." Father Martin gestured to the bones. "There are 4,000 items, including 22 splinters of the True Cross, a piece from the table of the Last Supper," he pointed to the piece of wood on a gilded shelf, "and a sliver of Mary's veil."

Dean gave a nod to the sliver of Mary's veil. Perhaps his mother had been named after the mother of Jesus. He would never know. The EMF was in his jacket pocket and while Sam was distracting the priest, Dean took a look at the detector. It was picking up activity.

Sam had bowed his head. "It's impressive."

"No fainting, Francis." Dean commented, recalling when they were last in a Catholic tomb. He kept an eye on his brother, afraid there may be a repeat performance since there was EMF in the vicinity.

The younger Winchester cleared his throat. "We have a partial list of what was stolen. Can you tell me a little bit of their history?"

Father Martin shook his head. "I know very rudimentary knowledge about the relics. Father Gomes is the expert."

"Can we speak to him?" Dean shuddered at all the spooky Indiana Jones relics. He hadn't recalled ever seeing so many antiquities in one place. He squashed the inclination to ask about Holy Grail.

"Today is his day to visit the sick and infirmed. You can leave a message at the rectory and make an appointment to see him tomorrow." Father Martin explained, as he took them further into the vault.

An hour later they were walking towards the Impala.

"Kill the boy."

Dean frowned and looked at his brother. "You say something, Sam?"

"I was just saying that we're going to have to watch the church." The youngest Winchester replied.

Dean shook his head. This had happened to him twice, in his brother's presence. It was too much of a coincidence. "How are you doing it?"

"Doing what?" Sam looked around him.

Dean shook his head. He had to give his brother credit-he was a good actor when he wanted to be. "You know."

"No, I don't." The dark haired hunter shook his head.

"Whatever." Dean shrugged his shoulders, two could play at this game and he would be the victor. But, it was unlike his brother to be this cruel. Dean swallowed, wishing they avoided Pittsburgh all together.

They came up on the Impala. Sam tapped the meter by the car before going to the passenger side door. "Someone fed your meter."

"What?" Dean unlocked the car. He vaguely recalled Sam saying they did not buy enough time. However, Dean didn't really care about parking tickets.

Sam smiled, and entered the Impala. "You were a victim of a random act of kindness. Some stranger did you a favor so you would avoid getting a ticket."

"They probably liked the car, or better they were hot girls. . .wished they left their phone numbers." The older hunter let his thoughts temporarily lead him astray until his brother broke his reverie. Thinking about women was better than thinking about voices inside his head.

"Do you think that people are inherently good?"

"As opposed to inherently evil?" Dean retorted as he started the engine, hoping to nip the deep conversation. But a glance at his brother showed he wouldn’t be satisfied with a flippant answer. "I don’t think they are either. . .I think bad things happen and we're the good that takes care of the bad."

"How about that guy in New York who saved the other guy from an oncoming train?" Sam questioned.

"Stupid?" Dean didn’t remember the incident. When he read the paper he was looking for supernatural events, sports and the occasional comic strip. "We have a case about someone stealing relics from a church-there is your inherently good person." And that seemed to summarily silence Sam.

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April, 1996. Pittsburgh, PA

In two hours Sam had gnawed away a fingernail. He had woken up his father after an hour as directed and then remained staring at his father, ignoring the television, his book and other distractions.

He was scared.

A knock on the door made him jump. He peaked through the eyehole and saw his brother. Normally, he would have followed protocol and questioned his brother thoroughly. But, he wanted to be relieved of his duty of watching over their father.

"Dean what the-" Sam opened the door and noticed his brother's disheveled appearance. "You went back to the house." And Sam clenched his fist, angry his brother had lied to him.

"Sam, be quiet." Dean walked over to where his father lay on the bed, studying him for a moment.

"No! It almost killed Dad!" Sam glanced at John, hoping his outrage would rouse their father into consciousness. But, John stayed quiet.

"It's over." Dean rubbed a hand over his eyes. Grime streaked across his forehead.

"You got it?" Sam unclenched his fists, feeling the anger dissipate. His brother had been stupid and lucky to come back to them alive.

"I burned down the house." Dean sat down on the other bed, and lifted his head to meet his brother's eyes.

"The house, Dean? Jesus-." Sam glanced towards the door, wondering if the police would soon be there, accusing the Winchesters of arson.

"We were planning on leaving anyway. You said you had a test on Monday." Dean rested his hands on his knees then levered himself to standing.

"Yeah-but…" Sometimes he was surprised his brother paid attention, and listened to Sam's complaints, tried to make them better.

"We'll get an early start." He commented, returning his gaze to their father.

"What about Dad?" John was still pale, and Sam didn't know if they should move him or wait it out. Sam just wished none of it had happened, ever.

"He's gonna be fine." Dean gave his brother a nod, and then flitted through the room, packing their meager weekend belongings.

"He's gonna kill you." Sam stated, wondering what punishment their father would deem as fitting. John discouraged outright willfulness in his children, and Dean deciding on his own to take care of the poltergeist had been foolhardy.

Dean twitched, but then relaxed. "Yeah, well-" He motioned to the bathroom. "I'm gonna go cleanup."

With a little maneuvering, a more alert John lay in the backseat resting as they drove back to their temporary home. All their homes were temporary; Sam didn't even want to refer to them as home. Headquarters was preferable.

As expected John was angry with Dean. Unable to yell, because he was still feeling poorly he spoke in harsh whispers, and even worse frowned his disappointment towards his oldest son with silence.

Once in Philadelphia Dean was informed of his punishment. The punishment was not really punishment-KP duty and extra training. Dean's kitchen duty was normal-he knew his way around boxed food better than any of them- Rice A Roni, Hamburger Helper, Shake N Bake and Kraft Macaroni and Cheese, and Sam knew his brother didn't mind training either.

Sam slept as Dean went off for an early morning run, his father's requirement until further notice. Dean seemed to take it all in stride, although he was a bit jumpier, checking over his shoulder. Sam assumed it was to make sure their father saw Dean working hard.

They had finished their dinner of frozen pizza. John had healed up and was taking interest in another hunt. Sam was reading a book at the table, while Dean watched the news on the television which could be seen from the kitchen.

"Nice night for a run," John commented.

Sam put down his book. The statement had been directed at Dean. It was a moonless night, rain expected later.

Dean's mouth went into a tight line. Sam could see the reluctance in his brother.

"Dad, I-," Dean began, and Sam's eyebrow rose in awe that Dean was going to contradict their father. But it didn't happen. Dean swallowed, his father missing the apprehensive action and gave a curt nod. "Yes, sir."

It wasn't a long run, but Sam had retired to their room to study. Later on Dean entered the bedroom, and lay on the bed. Sam knew his brother was tired- the early mornings, school, work, chores-Dean was paying for his mistake, and Sam was unsympathetic. Dean shouldn’t have risked his own life. "Was it worth it?"

Dean sighed. "I don't know, Sammy. I hope so."

It was a peculiar reply coming from his brother. But, Sam didn't press. "Whatever."

"You done reading?" Dean shifted to his side.

"Yeah." Sam folded over the page on Huckleberry Finn.

"I'm shutting off the light. Night, Sam." Dean reached up and turned the switch.

"Night," Sam answered as he went to his twin bed.

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Onto Chapter 3

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