Twelve Days 2/12
Title: Twelve Days
Authors: princess_schez & mlebayre
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Someone’s been reenacting a beloved holiday song, but with a very dark twist.
Authors Notes: Set during S2. Banner by princess_schez
“On the second day of Christmas my true love gave to me two turtle doves…”
--
“What the Hell? I repeat, what the freaking Hell?”
Sam acknowledged that he didn’t know.
“Who does this?” Dean kept going like Sam hadn’t even spoken. He turned and looked at Sam as if he was supposed to know, even though he didn’t.
A second body, but this one wasn’t stashed away in a cemetery outside of town. This one was in the parking lot of a diner just down from the motel, but still on the outskirts of town.
It was an apparent suicide, but Sam thought otherwise and the look on Dean’s face told him his brother thought the same.
The car was still running as the fireman opened the door, reached in and shut off the ignition. The man inside was clearly dead, and had been for a while. He was behind the wheel of a nice car, a few years old. This Impala was silver and two or three years old.
Until the ignition was cut off Christmas music had been blaring from the radio. Dean nudged Sam’s elbow, an evil smirk forming on his face. He leaned in close, so only Sam could hear him. “See, Christmas carols kill. Poor guy couldn’t stand it anymore.”
Sam rolled his eyes and ignored the comment. “Did you notice what was stuck in the exhaust and hanging from the rear view mirror?”
“Birds.” Dean faked a shiver. “Bad omens.”
“Two doves.” Sam had that niggling feeling again, but stronger this time.
“This is starting to sound familiar,” Dean said.
“Uh huh.” Sam stopped when the voices of people near the hushed. They were taking the man’s body from the car.
“I don’t understand it, he seemed fine at work,” one woman said. “Don’t people usually have signs?”
No one had any ready answer for her.
Dean stepped back, a hand on Sam’s arm urged him back as well. “We burned the bones. So, there has to be something else, somewhere else. This is connected, I’m sure of it.”
“Yeah, now to find out how,” Sam said and sighed as they walked back to their motel.
“I think step one is to find out why a priest wasn’t buried on church grounds.” Dean shut the door after Sam was inside. “And then what these killings have to do with said priest.”
“Maybe it’s not the priest, but the other victim?” Sam suggested.
“That doesn’t even make sense, but we should check it out. Nothing we do ever really makes sense.”
Sam flipped open his laptop. “Well, first things first. Why isn’t the priest buried on church grounds?”
“I’m going to nose around town while you do that. See what I can dig up,” Dean snickered at his own joke, making Sam roll his eyes. “I’ll check the churches. That robe looked Catholic to you?”
Sam nodded, but didn’t say anything, he was concentrating on his computer.
“What you want for dinner? I’ll bring something back.”
“Pizza,” Sam said without looking up.
-0-
Before heading to the local church, Dean decided to make his first stop the local watering hole, a little dive of a place they saw on the drive into town.
If there was a better place to get info about weird goings-on in town, it was the bar. And by the looks of it, the bar was a happening place.
“Guess there isn’t much to do in a place like this,” Dean commented to himself.
It looked like the type of place that hadn’t seen an update in decades, what with the 1970’s wood paneling covering the walls and worn carpeting on the floor. The pretty female bartender looked up and smiled at him as he sat down at the bar. Dean smiled back. This could be a lot easier than he had thought. He just needed the right opening to the conversation.
“Hey good lookin’, what can I get you?” she asked.
“Oh honey, I can think of some things but just a beer to start with," he said with a wink.
The woman laughed. “I can get you a beer for starters.” She winked back.
She set a bottle in front of him, and Dean just so happened to notice the name tag on her chest. “Chrissy, is it?”
“Sure is! Don’t like my formal name too much, so I go by that,” she replied.
Dean nodded. “It suits you.”
Chrissy smiled. “So, haven’t seen you around these parts before? New to town?”
“You could say that. My brother and I are staying here while we visit our mom in the next town. Apparently being the holidays, all the motels are booked, and she’s only got a little condo, so it’s the boonies for her kids.”
“Well that bites, but at least you’ll see her. My mom lives in Las Vegas, so I rarely get to see her.”
A moment passed, before she asked, “You’d know, I’d ask you how you like ‘the boonies’ so far, but I’m sure you heard about what happened this morning.”
Dean took a swig of his beer. “Hear what?”
“About the suicide outside the diner this morning.”
Bingo.
“Oh, yeah, I saw that. We’re staying in the motel not far from it….”
-0-
Sam surfed the web, trying to find any info about a priest named Gregory who lived in the 1800’s in the area. But without a first name, or even another name to go with it, was proving difficult.
He hoped Dean was making better progress than he was. Feeling desperate, he tried one last search. It was a long shot, but it was better than telling Dean he had found nothing.
Finally, he hit pay dirt. On a website detailing obscure history of the state, there was a small blurb about a man, a priest, who lived in the area in the mid 1800’s. And the more Sam read, the more he began to understand….
Reaching for his cell phone, he dialed Dean’s number, hoping to tell him what he had found.
-0-
Dean was just about to enter the church - Our Lady of the Angels - when he felt his cell phone go off. It was Sam.
“Yeah?”
He listened for a moment.
“You’re kidding?”
Again he listened.
“Well, I’m on my way into the church now, so I can poke around a bit.”
Dean thought about it for a moment. It was funny and kind of ironic that here he was, leaving a bar to go to church. A smile crept onto his face.
It was your typical church. There were stained glass windows, heavy, dark drapes and wooden pews with a soft polished sheen. Dean couldn’t help glancing up, just in case the lightning bolt was coming down for him.
He walked through the main part of the church, casually looking over the altar when he reached it. There was a door behind it that lead to the business part of the church. There were a few offices, with computers, a choir room and what looked to be a nursery.
“Hello,” Dean called out. Everything was unlocked, but no one seemed to be home. He crossed one of the offices and moved some cheerful yellow curtains to the side.
There was a yard and a house that looked like it had been built around the same time as the church. Dean noticed someone moving around at the side of the house, doing what looked like yard work. Dean saw the priest’s collar, even though he wore jeans.
Dean let the curtains drop back into place and left the office. He found a heavy wooden doorway at the end of the hall and gave the handle a jiggle.
Locked. That didn’t stop Dean, he took a quick look around before pulling out lock picks, leaning down and making short work of the obstacle. There was a stairway leading down, and the locks were stowed away and replaced by a flashlight. The weight of his handgun was snug at his back.
He walked slowly down the stairs. The fact that this door had been locked told Dean the valuables were down here, religious artifacts all churches no matter the religion seemed to always have, as well as any mausoleum and access to the church cemetery.
It took a few minutes but he finally found the documents and the book Sam had told him about.
Just as Dean was stuffing it all into his jacket, he heard the steady thump, clunk of shoes on the floor above. As he quickly made his way to the end of the basement, he noticed there were crypts and a bared door. He unlocked the door and slipped out into the late afternoon sun, making sure to leave it unlocked. If he and Sam needed in later, this would be far easier than going through the church and risking have to answer questions.
His phone signaled an incoming call. “I found it, I think,” Dean said into the phone, keeping his voice low. “Whatcha want on your pizza?”
-0-
Dean chuckled when as he walked through the door and Sam took the book, not the pizza. Dean set it all on the table and set a paper plate with pizza on it in front of Sam.
“Eat.” He ordered.
They spent a few minutes eating while Sam read, and shuffled some of the papers around.
“Father Gregory wasn’t his name. His real name was Frank Caine. He had five brothers and six sisters, he was somewhere in the middle. Anyway, three of his sisters became nuns, two married and had families.”
“What about sister number six?” Dean asked.
“I’m getting to her. Another of Frank’s brothers also went to seminary and became a priest. Two settled down and raised families here in town. Of the other two, one became a pianist, he played all over the world. His sister and other brother toured with him, helped manage his performances. The three of them also pulled off some of the biggest robberies of the day and it’s even rumored they helped fund the Confederate Army.”
“Interesting family. But that doesn’t explain Father Gregory being tossed on his ass out of the Church.”
“No,” Sam agreed, “but, one Christmas Eve, when their entire family was together Father Gregory was called away during dinner, to visit a dying parishioner. While he was gone someone with a grudge against the thieves killed the entire family.”
“So the good Father didn’t turn the other cheek, I’m guessing?” Dean asked.
“Yep. Frank hunted the killers down and used some very creative methods to avenge his family. Needless to say they weren’t Church approved. There is a legend that he had help in the form of an athame he’d gotten from a witch.”
“Yeah, that always goes over well with the Church,” Dean said. He sighed and split the last piece of pizza. “Find the athame.”
They both turned to the TV when there was breaking news.
“Son of a bitch, someone has a bird fetish.”
Authors: princess_schez & mlebayre
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Someone’s been reenacting a beloved holiday song, but with a very dark twist.
Authors Notes: Set during S2. Banner by princess_schez
“On the second day of Christmas my true love gave to me two turtle doves…”
--
“What the Hell? I repeat, what the freaking Hell?”
Sam acknowledged that he didn’t know.
“Who does this?” Dean kept going like Sam hadn’t even spoken. He turned and looked at Sam as if he was supposed to know, even though he didn’t.
A second body, but this one wasn’t stashed away in a cemetery outside of town. This one was in the parking lot of a diner just down from the motel, but still on the outskirts of town.
It was an apparent suicide, but Sam thought otherwise and the look on Dean’s face told him his brother thought the same.
The car was still running as the fireman opened the door, reached in and shut off the ignition. The man inside was clearly dead, and had been for a while. He was behind the wheel of a nice car, a few years old. This Impala was silver and two or three years old.
Until the ignition was cut off Christmas music had been blaring from the radio. Dean nudged Sam’s elbow, an evil smirk forming on his face. He leaned in close, so only Sam could hear him. “See, Christmas carols kill. Poor guy couldn’t stand it anymore.”
Sam rolled his eyes and ignored the comment. “Did you notice what was stuck in the exhaust and hanging from the rear view mirror?”
“Birds.” Dean faked a shiver. “Bad omens.”
“Two doves.” Sam had that niggling feeling again, but stronger this time.
“This is starting to sound familiar,” Dean said.
“Uh huh.” Sam stopped when the voices of people near the hushed. They were taking the man’s body from the car.
“I don’t understand it, he seemed fine at work,” one woman said. “Don’t people usually have signs?”
No one had any ready answer for her.
Dean stepped back, a hand on Sam’s arm urged him back as well. “We burned the bones. So, there has to be something else, somewhere else. This is connected, I’m sure of it.”
“Yeah, now to find out how,” Sam said and sighed as they walked back to their motel.
“I think step one is to find out why a priest wasn’t buried on church grounds.” Dean shut the door after Sam was inside. “And then what these killings have to do with said priest.”
“Maybe it’s not the priest, but the other victim?” Sam suggested.
“That doesn’t even make sense, but we should check it out. Nothing we do ever really makes sense.”
Sam flipped open his laptop. “Well, first things first. Why isn’t the priest buried on church grounds?”
“I’m going to nose around town while you do that. See what I can dig up,” Dean snickered at his own joke, making Sam roll his eyes. “I’ll check the churches. That robe looked Catholic to you?”
Sam nodded, but didn’t say anything, he was concentrating on his computer.
“What you want for dinner? I’ll bring something back.”
“Pizza,” Sam said without looking up.
-0-
Before heading to the local church, Dean decided to make his first stop the local watering hole, a little dive of a place they saw on the drive into town.
If there was a better place to get info about weird goings-on in town, it was the bar. And by the looks of it, the bar was a happening place.
“Guess there isn’t much to do in a place like this,” Dean commented to himself.
It looked like the type of place that hadn’t seen an update in decades, what with the 1970’s wood paneling covering the walls and worn carpeting on the floor. The pretty female bartender looked up and smiled at him as he sat down at the bar. Dean smiled back. This could be a lot easier than he had thought. He just needed the right opening to the conversation.
“Hey good lookin’, what can I get you?” she asked.
“Oh honey, I can think of some things but just a beer to start with," he said with a wink.
The woman laughed. “I can get you a beer for starters.” She winked back.
She set a bottle in front of him, and Dean just so happened to notice the name tag on her chest. “Chrissy, is it?”
“Sure is! Don’t like my formal name too much, so I go by that,” she replied.
Dean nodded. “It suits you.”
Chrissy smiled. “So, haven’t seen you around these parts before? New to town?”
“You could say that. My brother and I are staying here while we visit our mom in the next town. Apparently being the holidays, all the motels are booked, and she’s only got a little condo, so it’s the boonies for her kids.”
“Well that bites, but at least you’ll see her. My mom lives in Las Vegas, so I rarely get to see her.”
A moment passed, before she asked, “You’d know, I’d ask you how you like ‘the boonies’ so far, but I’m sure you heard about what happened this morning.”
Dean took a swig of his beer. “Hear what?”
“About the suicide outside the diner this morning.”
Bingo.
“Oh, yeah, I saw that. We’re staying in the motel not far from it….”
-0-
Sam surfed the web, trying to find any info about a priest named Gregory who lived in the 1800’s in the area. But without a first name, or even another name to go with it, was proving difficult.
He hoped Dean was making better progress than he was. Feeling desperate, he tried one last search. It was a long shot, but it was better than telling Dean he had found nothing.
Finally, he hit pay dirt. On a website detailing obscure history of the state, there was a small blurb about a man, a priest, who lived in the area in the mid 1800’s. And the more Sam read, the more he began to understand….
Reaching for his cell phone, he dialed Dean’s number, hoping to tell him what he had found.
-0-
Dean was just about to enter the church - Our Lady of the Angels - when he felt his cell phone go off. It was Sam.
“Yeah?”
He listened for a moment.
“You’re kidding?”
Again he listened.
“Well, I’m on my way into the church now, so I can poke around a bit.”
Dean thought about it for a moment. It was funny and kind of ironic that here he was, leaving a bar to go to church. A smile crept onto his face.
It was your typical church. There were stained glass windows, heavy, dark drapes and wooden pews with a soft polished sheen. Dean couldn’t help glancing up, just in case the lightning bolt was coming down for him.
He walked through the main part of the church, casually looking over the altar when he reached it. There was a door behind it that lead to the business part of the church. There were a few offices, with computers, a choir room and what looked to be a nursery.
“Hello,” Dean called out. Everything was unlocked, but no one seemed to be home. He crossed one of the offices and moved some cheerful yellow curtains to the side.
There was a yard and a house that looked like it had been built around the same time as the church. Dean noticed someone moving around at the side of the house, doing what looked like yard work. Dean saw the priest’s collar, even though he wore jeans.
Dean let the curtains drop back into place and left the office. He found a heavy wooden doorway at the end of the hall and gave the handle a jiggle.
Locked. That didn’t stop Dean, he took a quick look around before pulling out lock picks, leaning down and making short work of the obstacle. There was a stairway leading down, and the locks were stowed away and replaced by a flashlight. The weight of his handgun was snug at his back.
He walked slowly down the stairs. The fact that this door had been locked told Dean the valuables were down here, religious artifacts all churches no matter the religion seemed to always have, as well as any mausoleum and access to the church cemetery.
It took a few minutes but he finally found the documents and the book Sam had told him about.
Just as Dean was stuffing it all into his jacket, he heard the steady thump, clunk of shoes on the floor above. As he quickly made his way to the end of the basement, he noticed there were crypts and a bared door. He unlocked the door and slipped out into the late afternoon sun, making sure to leave it unlocked. If he and Sam needed in later, this would be far easier than going through the church and risking have to answer questions.
His phone signaled an incoming call. “I found it, I think,” Dean said into the phone, keeping his voice low. “Whatcha want on your pizza?”
-0-
Dean chuckled when as he walked through the door and Sam took the book, not the pizza. Dean set it all on the table and set a paper plate with pizza on it in front of Sam.
“Eat.” He ordered.
They spent a few minutes eating while Sam read, and shuffled some of the papers around.
“Father Gregory wasn’t his name. His real name was Frank Caine. He had five brothers and six sisters, he was somewhere in the middle. Anyway, three of his sisters became nuns, two married and had families.”
“What about sister number six?” Dean asked.
“I’m getting to her. Another of Frank’s brothers also went to seminary and became a priest. Two settled down and raised families here in town. Of the other two, one became a pianist, he played all over the world. His sister and other brother toured with him, helped manage his performances. The three of them also pulled off some of the biggest robberies of the day and it’s even rumored they helped fund the Confederate Army.”
“Interesting family. But that doesn’t explain Father Gregory being tossed on his ass out of the Church.”
“No,” Sam agreed, “but, one Christmas Eve, when their entire family was together Father Gregory was called away during dinner, to visit a dying parishioner. While he was gone someone with a grudge against the thieves killed the entire family.”
“So the good Father didn’t turn the other cheek, I’m guessing?” Dean asked.
“Yep. Frank hunted the killers down and used some very creative methods to avenge his family. Needless to say they weren’t Church approved. There is a legend that he had help in the form of an athame he’d gotten from a witch.”
“Yeah, that always goes over well with the Church,” Dean said. He sighed and split the last piece of pizza. “Find the athame.”
They both turned to the TV when there was breaking news.
“Son of a bitch, someone has a bird fetish.”