Hell House (7/17)
Title: Hell House (7/17)
Author: narukyu
Characters/Pairings: Gabriel/Sam, Sam/Andy (one sided); Jake, Lily, Ansem, Ava, Azazel
Rating: R
Warnings: violence, adult language, death (OCs, minor character), gore (not much worse than 3x15), sex, AU (pre-season 1), high school fic (ish), slash, minor femmeslash.
Word Count: 60K-ish
Summary: A devotedly unreligious man sends his youngest son to a private religious school. If that wasn't suspicious enough, Sam can't get a hold of John or Dean, people are disappearing right and left, and, in the night, something whispers in the silence of the old chapel. Soon enough, Sam discovers that something terrible lingers behind the doors to the sacristy--something that sheds a light on the secret holy mission of the Soldiers of Christ as well what happened to his family so many years ago.
My brothers have been taken from me. Blind are those who look but do not choose to also see. Evil's best trick is convincing the world it does not exist. Blindness is not a shield-rather, it is a crutch, a wooden crutch sawed to the very last inch, just on the cusp of breaking. It is the world's greatest irony that we, who seek to keep the sheep from falling, must first fall ourselves.
I must confess to some anger-and fear. But my resolve will remain firm, my brothers. I do not know your ways of hunting evil, but your sources have not been seized. I will resurrect our most sacred holy mission. I will carry on. I will build upon the ash that has come this day and I will show the Lord, our Father, that His will carries on.
Father Gregory Thompson's journal, December 19, 1975.
-----
February of 2000, their year-1983-got one more student: Lily Baker. Lily was from San Diego, California, and she was a whole new breed of animal in the zoo that was Hell House.
She was different-atheist, bold, assertive. She was difficult to please. She was unaffected by Sister Catherine’s lectures and unruffled by Father Bailey’s sermons. She yawned openly during lectures, meeting Sister Elizabeth’s darkly disapproving gaze with her own bored one. She questioned everything and anything.
It was immediately apparent that she did not belong at Hell House at all. She was novel. She was critical. She was stubborn. For these reasons, she was equally wonderful and frightening to her classmates-a freak or an entertainment to those not in their year.
Sam saw her first during his hour of required self-reflection. Initially, he only noticed her as a thin blond girl with the hint of a healthy tan. He noticed her second as a deviant. Her head held up, water sluicing off her pink jacket, she listened to the lecture of the nun before her before smothering a yawn in her hand. Her gaze wandered to the left and met his.
Her gaze stuck. For several long moments, she watched him watch her, and then, without warning, she smiled. Embarrassed suddenly, Sam ducked his head.
When he looked up again, all that was left of her presence was two defiant puddles of water on the cheaply tiled floor.
Everyone was very aware of how long she’d lived outside of Hell House’s rules and regulations, but it wasn’t until Sam watched her verbally rip one of the sisters’ arguments to shreds did he understand how deeply, thoroughly indoctrinated they all were to Saint Mary’s hierarchy of power.
They didn’t question anything anymore. They just accepted. Adapted. Made due with what they had. They were lulled into dull, tired complacency because obedience was easier than rebellion.
Resignation was their main game and getting through the day was their finest goal.
They were all sheep compared to Lily Baker, and Sam, for all his illusions of critical thinking, was the biggest sheep of them all.
-----
It took Lily a few weeks to work her way into their group, but, once she did, it was like she was always there. She didn’t quite fill the hole where Ava used to be (before she deserted them to sit in dark rooms with Ansem and O‘Malley), but she, like anyone would expect of her, made her own place in their year.
Jake and Lily especially hit it off after they discovered a mutual love of soccer. Andy and Sam were shunted off to the side a bit after that, since neither had Jake or Lily’s nearly encyclopedic recollection of soccer matches throughout the ages. Jake and Lily would enthusiastically dissect important games of this year or that, criticizing and praising various coaches and their strategies while sharing and decrying some of the matches’ biggest hits and misses.
Sam was overwhelmed by the barrage of information, and he had a feeling that Andy was too, but that didn’t stop Andy from trying to get Lily’s attention. With a sense of bitter-sweetness, Sam figured that was probably because Andy had a crush on Lily-which was fine. Sam was never planning on telling Andy about his anyway.
He was already way, way too transparent to these people.
Besides, it was fine. During their monthly field trip to the surrounding town, Andy’s own crush was proven to be equally as fruitless as Sam’s-not that Sam was pleased about that or anything. But he did have to admit to a sense of relief.
The trip started out like any other. Like the endlessly creative individuals they were, their year headed to the same cheap, fast food restaurant that they went to, without fail, during every trip out to the town. 1983 wasn’t the only one there-1984 snagged some booths as well, fingers closed carefully over the money that Hell House grudgingly gave them for allowance.
But the younger students were the only other Saint Mary’s group there. The school only let two years go out at a time, staggering the excursions during the month to save the trip supervisors grief. Thus, most of the people in that cheap restaurant were locals, who eyed the students’ uniforms with curiousity and distrust.
Apparently, students of Saint Mary’s had a bit of a reputation around Ilchester. Sam learned quickly that, during these trips, it was best to walk carefully, be endlessly polite, and never touch anything. The suspicion would continue with or without these measures, but it was best not to fuel the flames.
It was for this reason that they grabbed a corner table, dropping their food there before sitting down. Sam and Jake both sat so they had a good view of the outside street, waiting on Andy to stop wrestling with the ketchup dispenser three tables over.
Sam hadn’t sat down for long before he recognized someone outside. He nudged Jake, lifting his chin to the window. “Hey, look. Lily.” Jake followed his gaze.
“What?” Andy dropped his tray on the table noisily, a pile of ketchup triumphantly waving next to his plate of fries. “Where? Invite her over.” He dropped down in the opposite seat, bouncing twice.
Sam squinted, peering over Andy’s head. “I think… she’s in the middle of something.”
What he’d noticed was that Lily wasn’t alone. There was another girl with her-a petite redhead clasping her purse. They were standing rather close together, something about their body language hinting that they were saying hello.
As Sam continued to watch, the girl ducked her head a little, looking shy. Lily leaned in closer, tucking a strand of the other girl’s hair over her ear. When the girl only looked up at Lily, eyes dancing, Lily leaned in again, pressing a slow, chaste kiss to the corner of the girl’s mouth.
“She moves fast,” Jake grumbled, biting into his sandwich.
Sam didn’t respond. On the other side of the window, the other girl grinned. For a second, their hands were tangled together between them, their fingers locking in perfect harmony as the girl said something that looked like ‘yes’.
Sam had never seen Lily look so pleased.
Across the table, Andy was staring at Sam’s face, fries poised an inch from his lips. Gnawing on them thoughtfully, he turned to see what Sam was looking at, curious to see what held Sam’s attention.
When he saw what Lily was up to, he swallowed a fry the wrong way. He hacked and wheezed, banging his hand against his chest.
Meanwhile, Sam continued to stare blankly at the girls, not quit comprehending at first-a relative, a friend? But while his mind raced for more innocent explanations, he realized he couldn’t ignore the clearly not-platonic subtext of the situation. Groaning suddenly, he closed his eyes as the meaning of some of Lily’s offhanded comments about women and men suddenly slammed in place-the appreciation of the female form, the comments on useless male posturing, the assertion that girls were better partners than boys.
It made sense, she made sense. Duh.
Why did it take him so long to realize she was gay? He wasn’t a vain guy, but even he recognized why so many girls came out in the early hours of the morning to sit in the grass during the fairer months-it wasn’t because they liked nature. It was because they were watching Sam and Jake exercise, a habit that led to more shirt removals than Sam was strictly comfortable with.
Sam had joined Jake about a month ago for moral support, and Lily never let them forget about it. She was never quite as impressed with them as the other girls, and this, he thought, had to be why.
Feeling embarrassed all of a sudden for staring, Sam pulled his eyes away from them. Andy was still gasping across from him, so Sam quickly changed seats, hitting Andy’s back until his breathing normalized.
“Well,“ Andy said finally, shaping his words around a cough. “Shit.” He sucked down on his drink with desperate enthusiasm.
Across the table, Jake was smirking at them, oozing with the confidence of someone who’d already had the time to adjust. “Jealous?”
Sam just shrugged, having no idea what to say. Andy answered instead. “A little bit, yeah. Ever since I got hit with the short stick, I’ve been finding it hard to find a girl who’ll go out with me. Now that Lily’s down for the count…” He tried to sound upbeat but he actually sounded pretty miserable. Unaware of the hand Sam had on his shoulder, Andy stared down at his food for a moment, then eyed Lily again over his shoulder. “I‘m gonna invite her to join us. Watch my food.”
Sam moved out of the way just long enough for Andy to slide out of the seat. He reclaimed it soon after, watching as Andy quickly crossed the restaurant and went outside. Through the window, he could see that Andy had made a beeline toward the girls, his body language awkward and puppy-doggish.
“Desperate,” Jake muttered.
“Nah,” Sam said, turning away from the window. Not very hungry, he leaned back and braced his arms against the seat. “Lonely.”
Pensive, Sam let his eyes wander over the inside of the restaurant. The place, with its tightly placed booths and narrow aisles, did not hide the noises of other people-the mindless chatter, the gossip, the laughter. He could hear students and locals alike chatting about this and that, sharing opinions about nothing, and making a big deal about everything.
There was freedom in this, he realized, watching previously dour students laugh and joke at another table. But that freedom was a fleeting illusion.
Sam didn’t have the best vantage point, but he still was able to pick out three supervisors-a nun and two of the staff. The employees were trying to be inconspicuous, keeping their heads low with all the appearance of focusing on their food, but the nun wore a full habit, sucking on her water with grim determination, like she was the only one standing between a bunch of teenagers and the end of the world.
Her gaze darted around the restaurant much the same as Sam’s. He dropped his eyes before they could make contact, preferring to avoid the unpleasantness.
“So, Sam.” Sam shifted his eyes back to Jake, who was leaning on the table now. The other boy’s voice was purposefully low. “The Army Thing.”
Sam stared at him for a moment, blankly. Then he remembered-the reason why he’d joined Jake in the morning in the first place. The reason behind what they‘d fondly coined as Jake’s obsession with exercise.
“Right,” he said, leaning forward as well. “How’s that working out for you?”
The ‘Army Thing’ was still a recent topic for them. Sam had admitted his dad was a marine and, as a result, Jake thought of him as Hell House’s very own residential expert on how the military works. Sam couldn’t help but be annoyed by this-the knowledge he had couldn’t even fill a page.
He told Jake to do the same thing he told everyone who came to pick at his brain: do your own damn research. To his credit, Jake was neither offended nor dismissive of his advice. He was appreciative-even relieved-when Sam joined him in the morning, admitting that he had no idea what he was trying to condition himself for beyond basic ‘fitness tests’.
Sam, at the very least, could help him there.
Across the table, Jake was tracing a shape in the lingering condensation from his drink. “Still a little too young to be recruited, but I’ve heard that, with parent permission…” He trailed off meaningfully, his eyebrows raising high on his forehead when he looked up.
The solution seemed simple. “Call your parents.”
Jake’s eyes skittered away. He rubbed the back of his neck. “Thing is… my dad’s dead, but my mom…” Jake seemed uncomfortable now. “She worked so hard to provide for us. I don’t know if I want to put that kind of pressure on her. Plus, she, uh. She never answers.” His dark eyes shifted back to Sam. After a moment, he leaned back, shrugging. “Think I’ll ask the priests first. They’re technically our guardians right now.”
Sam made a face. “Yeah. I noticed that.” What kind of school systems allowed for the teachers to wrest parental controls away from the parents? What kind of parents allowed that in the first place? And why did John, of all people-
No. Sam shook his head slightly. That path led to bad thoughts. It was best not to muse on John’s motivations, especially when they were just going to make him mad.
-----
The trip went downhill very quickly, turning from mildly boring to downright bad as they headed back to the school.
It was a pleasant walk. Lily was cheerful, singing lightly under her breath, cajoling Jake to join her on every other verse. Andy started out moody, but gradually lightened up, talking animatedly about an insect he’d seen-the Maryland state insect. Sam didn’t even know there was such a thing, but Andy was glad to fill him in on the history of it.
Neither year-1983 or 1984--realized that they were missing one of the supervising staff members until after they walked all the way back to Saint Mary’s.
As usual, their groups split up, such that 1983 trailed further behind 1984. 1984 reached the gates first and were let inside by the one eyed gate keeper, who was one of the few members of the permanent staff at Saint Mary’s. He watched them pass by, suspicion lining his rather young face, and Sam knew he wasn’t imagining that the younger students were walking just a little bit faster to escape his gaze that much quicker.
Then the man-Eddie was his name-turned his eye on them, watching as Sam and his year approached the gate. As Sam picked up his pace, he thought, rather sheepishly, that he understood other students' unease.
As they entered the property, The case of the missing supervisor was solved rather quickly-and unhappily-as the missing man himself approached the gates from the chapel, a satisfied smile on his face. Sam’s hackles rose in response and he found himself in the front of the group, between his classmates and that man.
The man stopped a good ten feet from the gate, his hands in his pockets. His smile widened slightly when, behind Sam, nuns crowded Lily the second she passed the gates. Sam whipped around, but it was too late.
Frowning, Lily stepped back reflexively before realizing people were all around her. She circled once, shooting a clearly confused look toward Jake, Andy, and Sam, who lingered just outside of the ring.
Sam’s eyes darted over the face of the women. Some of them were familiar, the ones who never left Saint Mary’s and always taught classes-Sisters Elizabeth, Sara, and Catherine. Others were some of the satellite nuns, so named because they were always traveling and going places. They rarely stayed for long at Saint Mary’s, too busy with their mission.
Sister Elizabeth, who taught all of their year’s classes, spoke up. “You will report to the sacristy.” Her expression was absolutely stony.
Sam caught the edge of Eddie’s smirk out of the corner of his eyes, but, by the time Sam looked at him, the man was pulling the gates shut, locking them with heavy metal chains.
“What are you talking about?” Confused, Lily blinked, then shrugged. “Whatever.” She tried to push past them, but her arm was grabbed.
“Now, Lily,” the nun said. A warning lingered in her tone.
Sam swallowed, watching Lily’s tense expression, wondering if she was going to fight. He briefly knew relief when, cautiously, she nodded. The ring parted then and, with the nuns following her, Lily walked to the chapel, her back tight and her arms crossed over her chest.
Silence lingered between Andy, Sam, and Jake as shock glued them in place. The shock wore off.
“The fuck?” Jake growled, staring after them. He was as rigid as a statue.
“Thou shalt not make moves on girls,” Andy muttered, groaning. “Shit, that nun must have seen her. I told her not to rock the boat-”
“Goddamn this!” Jake shouted, kicking ineffectively at the ground. The ground, loosened by April showers, did not give much resistance to this. He fumed for a second longer and then, without further comment, he stalked across the property, making for the staff building.
There was a single phone in one of the offices, Sam knew. It was the only phone anyone ever saw on campus.
What Jake planned to do was rather obvious to Sam. Operation: Army Thing was a go.
Andy was quick on Jake’s heels. “Wait! What are you doing?”
“Leaving this place. Gonna call my mom, gonna get her to pick me up.” Jake spared a second to glare back at Andy. “This place is a nut house. I can’t stand it anymore!”
“You’re going to ask the staff first, right? Jake! You can’t call someone without supervision! Jake!“
Their voices echoed across the property, lonely and alone. Sam listened to them bicker until their words became meaningless. Then he looked at over his shoulder at the gate behind him. His eyes moved over the tall iron fence, the heavy chains binding the gate together, the rust peeking out under peeling paint. As he looked, he wondered why now, of all times, he felt like a willing prisoner.
------
Later that night, Lily staggered down the hall. She walked slowly, up alongside the wall, her shoulder dragging against it. Her arms were wrapped tightly around her chest, as if to keep in the warmth, and her eyes moved around endlessly.
Gone was her permanently relaxed demeanor. Gone was her defiant nature. Gone was her ambivalent personality.
Gone was the girl Sam both admired and resented.
There was no way this was a nervous breakdown, Sam decided suddenly. No way. Nothing normal made a confident girl look like that. It had to be something abnormal-curses, hexes, spells, assault, rape. Maybe nervous breakdowns were abnormal too, but he’d seen plenty of people-victims of the supernatural-have them, and this? This wasn’t a nervous breakdown.
She looked scared.
Sam swallowed, watching her carefully. When she came close enough, he stepped out from his doorway, revealing his presence.
Lily flinched badly, gasping. Her arms rose protectively in front of her and fearful eyes moved all over his face-assessing, he realized, for danger, for threat. She froze in place, like a deer in headlights and equally as vulnerable and expectant to pain.
“Alright, Lily?” he said gently, fingers spread and low, his palms pointing down. Internally, he was pissed. He wanted to kill something.
Lily tried to smile. “F-fine, Sam,” she said in a slightly too high voice. “Nothing’s wrong.”
A door closed down the hall, barely making a thud, but her head whipped to it like it was a shotgun blast. Her body was one, long line of tension against the wall, one that did not relax even when nothing further happened.
Making a concerned noise in his throat, Sam stepped toward her. Neatly, she stepped away, nervously licking her lip.
Fatigue bright eyes sought his gaze out tentatively. “I’m gonna… gonna go to bed now, okay?” She pointed to her door, like she thought he wouldn’t remember where she slept. Her bottom lip was wounded from her own teeth and there were shadows under her eyes.
Hurting for her, Sam hesitated, but eventually acquiesced. “Okay.”
After a moment, he stepped back. She immediately hurried past him, her eyes to the floor. Down the hall, her door opened quickly and slammed shut just as fast.
Sam looked down her way, hovering awkwardly in the empty hallway. He spared a second to glance at the ceiling before stepping back into his room. He too shut his door, feeling rather defeated.
He shuffled over to his bed, snatching a leather bound book from the desk as he passed it. He dropped down on the mattress, shifting until his back laid flat. With one ear on the hallway, Sam opened Thompson’s journal, picking up from where he left it last.
On July 17th, 1985, there was a short entry. It was as baffling as it was brief. Sam read it over and over again, trying to make sense of the stark, vague words scratched out in a quick, slanting hand.
“We have received word,” he murmured out loud, eyes flying over the few lines. “We are cast from Christ. Mortal was our failing in the eyes of man and Pope, but righteous it shall be in the eyes of our Lord, for He and He alone knows our most sacred, most holy mission.”
Mission. Sam paused to stare at the ceiling. That could mean anything. Saint Mary’s had a mission. Catholics had a mission. People had missions. Hell, even the Winchesters had a mission. But what mission was ‘most holy’?
Sam shook his head, stumped. Hoping to find meaning elsewhere, he read on to the next entry.
The letters were bolder, filled more with purpose, like Thompson had lingered over these words lovingly.
We have been accused of malicious sacraments, among other failings, but our brothers do not know our struggle. They concern themselves with the souls of penitent. To give absolution, our brothers say, is our duties as a representative of Christ. Whether or we believe in the worthiness of the soul we save, we must indeed save it if it comes to us in good intentions.
But they do not understand. We do not govern the souls of penitent. We govern souls of the forever damned, and thus our strategy must change accordingly.
They do not receive absolution because they will not stop. Why give absolution to a demonic beast that will commit the same crimes he confesses? They are damned before they reach us. They know their sins. They are not contrite. What conscience they examine is rife with inbred evil and malice, and they do not care. They are damned absolutely.
And now they damn us.
God help us all.
Chapter Seven
Author: narukyu
Characters/Pairings: Gabriel/Sam, Sam/Andy (one sided); Jake, Lily, Ansem, Ava, Azazel
Rating: R
Warnings: violence, adult language, death (OCs, minor character), gore (not much worse than 3x15), sex, AU (pre-season 1), high school fic (ish), slash, minor femmeslash.
Word Count: 60K-ish
Summary: A devotedly unreligious man sends his youngest son to a private religious school. If that wasn't suspicious enough, Sam can't get a hold of John or Dean, people are disappearing right and left, and, in the night, something whispers in the silence of the old chapel. Soon enough, Sam discovers that something terrible lingers behind the doors to the sacristy--something that sheds a light on the secret holy mission of the Soldiers of Christ as well what happened to his family so many years ago.
My brothers have been taken from me. Blind are those who look but do not choose to also see. Evil's best trick is convincing the world it does not exist. Blindness is not a shield-rather, it is a crutch, a wooden crutch sawed to the very last inch, just on the cusp of breaking. It is the world's greatest irony that we, who seek to keep the sheep from falling, must first fall ourselves.
I must confess to some anger-and fear. But my resolve will remain firm, my brothers. I do not know your ways of hunting evil, but your sources have not been seized. I will resurrect our most sacred holy mission. I will carry on. I will build upon the ash that has come this day and I will show the Lord, our Father, that His will carries on.
Father Gregory Thompson's journal, December 19, 1975.
-----
February of 2000, their year-1983-got one more student: Lily Baker. Lily was from San Diego, California, and she was a whole new breed of animal in the zoo that was Hell House.
She was different-atheist, bold, assertive. She was difficult to please. She was unaffected by Sister Catherine’s lectures and unruffled by Father Bailey’s sermons. She yawned openly during lectures, meeting Sister Elizabeth’s darkly disapproving gaze with her own bored one. She questioned everything and anything.
It was immediately apparent that she did not belong at Hell House at all. She was novel. She was critical. She was stubborn. For these reasons, she was equally wonderful and frightening to her classmates-a freak or an entertainment to those not in their year.
Sam saw her first during his hour of required self-reflection. Initially, he only noticed her as a thin blond girl with the hint of a healthy tan. He noticed her second as a deviant. Her head held up, water sluicing off her pink jacket, she listened to the lecture of the nun before her before smothering a yawn in her hand. Her gaze wandered to the left and met his.
Her gaze stuck. For several long moments, she watched him watch her, and then, without warning, she smiled. Embarrassed suddenly, Sam ducked his head.
When he looked up again, all that was left of her presence was two defiant puddles of water on the cheaply tiled floor.
Everyone was very aware of how long she’d lived outside of Hell House’s rules and regulations, but it wasn’t until Sam watched her verbally rip one of the sisters’ arguments to shreds did he understand how deeply, thoroughly indoctrinated they all were to Saint Mary’s hierarchy of power.
They didn’t question anything anymore. They just accepted. Adapted. Made due with what they had. They were lulled into dull, tired complacency because obedience was easier than rebellion.
Resignation was their main game and getting through the day was their finest goal.
They were all sheep compared to Lily Baker, and Sam, for all his illusions of critical thinking, was the biggest sheep of them all.
-----
It took Lily a few weeks to work her way into their group, but, once she did, it was like she was always there. She didn’t quite fill the hole where Ava used to be (before she deserted them to sit in dark rooms with Ansem and O‘Malley), but she, like anyone would expect of her, made her own place in their year.
Jake and Lily especially hit it off after they discovered a mutual love of soccer. Andy and Sam were shunted off to the side a bit after that, since neither had Jake or Lily’s nearly encyclopedic recollection of soccer matches throughout the ages. Jake and Lily would enthusiastically dissect important games of this year or that, criticizing and praising various coaches and their strategies while sharing and decrying some of the matches’ biggest hits and misses.
Sam was overwhelmed by the barrage of information, and he had a feeling that Andy was too, but that didn’t stop Andy from trying to get Lily’s attention. With a sense of bitter-sweetness, Sam figured that was probably because Andy had a crush on Lily-which was fine. Sam was never planning on telling Andy about his anyway.
He was already way, way too transparent to these people.
Besides, it was fine. During their monthly field trip to the surrounding town, Andy’s own crush was proven to be equally as fruitless as Sam’s-not that Sam was pleased about that or anything. But he did have to admit to a sense of relief.
The trip started out like any other. Like the endlessly creative individuals they were, their year headed to the same cheap, fast food restaurant that they went to, without fail, during every trip out to the town. 1983 wasn’t the only one there-1984 snagged some booths as well, fingers closed carefully over the money that Hell House grudgingly gave them for allowance.
But the younger students were the only other Saint Mary’s group there. The school only let two years go out at a time, staggering the excursions during the month to save the trip supervisors grief. Thus, most of the people in that cheap restaurant were locals, who eyed the students’ uniforms with curiousity and distrust.
Apparently, students of Saint Mary’s had a bit of a reputation around Ilchester. Sam learned quickly that, during these trips, it was best to walk carefully, be endlessly polite, and never touch anything. The suspicion would continue with or without these measures, but it was best not to fuel the flames.
It was for this reason that they grabbed a corner table, dropping their food there before sitting down. Sam and Jake both sat so they had a good view of the outside street, waiting on Andy to stop wrestling with the ketchup dispenser three tables over.
Sam hadn’t sat down for long before he recognized someone outside. He nudged Jake, lifting his chin to the window. “Hey, look. Lily.” Jake followed his gaze.
“What?” Andy dropped his tray on the table noisily, a pile of ketchup triumphantly waving next to his plate of fries. “Where? Invite her over.” He dropped down in the opposite seat, bouncing twice.
Sam squinted, peering over Andy’s head. “I think… she’s in the middle of something.”
What he’d noticed was that Lily wasn’t alone. There was another girl with her-a petite redhead clasping her purse. They were standing rather close together, something about their body language hinting that they were saying hello.
As Sam continued to watch, the girl ducked her head a little, looking shy. Lily leaned in closer, tucking a strand of the other girl’s hair over her ear. When the girl only looked up at Lily, eyes dancing, Lily leaned in again, pressing a slow, chaste kiss to the corner of the girl’s mouth.
“She moves fast,” Jake grumbled, biting into his sandwich.
Sam didn’t respond. On the other side of the window, the other girl grinned. For a second, their hands were tangled together between them, their fingers locking in perfect harmony as the girl said something that looked like ‘yes’.
Sam had never seen Lily look so pleased.
Across the table, Andy was staring at Sam’s face, fries poised an inch from his lips. Gnawing on them thoughtfully, he turned to see what Sam was looking at, curious to see what held Sam’s attention.
When he saw what Lily was up to, he swallowed a fry the wrong way. He hacked and wheezed, banging his hand against his chest.
Meanwhile, Sam continued to stare blankly at the girls, not quit comprehending at first-a relative, a friend? But while his mind raced for more innocent explanations, he realized he couldn’t ignore the clearly not-platonic subtext of the situation. Groaning suddenly, he closed his eyes as the meaning of some of Lily’s offhanded comments about women and men suddenly slammed in place-the appreciation of the female form, the comments on useless male posturing, the assertion that girls were better partners than boys.
It made sense, she made sense. Duh.
Why did it take him so long to realize she was gay? He wasn’t a vain guy, but even he recognized why so many girls came out in the early hours of the morning to sit in the grass during the fairer months-it wasn’t because they liked nature. It was because they were watching Sam and Jake exercise, a habit that led to more shirt removals than Sam was strictly comfortable with.
Sam had joined Jake about a month ago for moral support, and Lily never let them forget about it. She was never quite as impressed with them as the other girls, and this, he thought, had to be why.
Feeling embarrassed all of a sudden for staring, Sam pulled his eyes away from them. Andy was still gasping across from him, so Sam quickly changed seats, hitting Andy’s back until his breathing normalized.
“Well,“ Andy said finally, shaping his words around a cough. “Shit.” He sucked down on his drink with desperate enthusiasm.
Across the table, Jake was smirking at them, oozing with the confidence of someone who’d already had the time to adjust. “Jealous?”
Sam just shrugged, having no idea what to say. Andy answered instead. “A little bit, yeah. Ever since I got hit with the short stick, I’ve been finding it hard to find a girl who’ll go out with me. Now that Lily’s down for the count…” He tried to sound upbeat but he actually sounded pretty miserable. Unaware of the hand Sam had on his shoulder, Andy stared down at his food for a moment, then eyed Lily again over his shoulder. “I‘m gonna invite her to join us. Watch my food.”
Sam moved out of the way just long enough for Andy to slide out of the seat. He reclaimed it soon after, watching as Andy quickly crossed the restaurant and went outside. Through the window, he could see that Andy had made a beeline toward the girls, his body language awkward and puppy-doggish.
“Desperate,” Jake muttered.
“Nah,” Sam said, turning away from the window. Not very hungry, he leaned back and braced his arms against the seat. “Lonely.”
Pensive, Sam let his eyes wander over the inside of the restaurant. The place, with its tightly placed booths and narrow aisles, did not hide the noises of other people-the mindless chatter, the gossip, the laughter. He could hear students and locals alike chatting about this and that, sharing opinions about nothing, and making a big deal about everything.
There was freedom in this, he realized, watching previously dour students laugh and joke at another table. But that freedom was a fleeting illusion.
Sam didn’t have the best vantage point, but he still was able to pick out three supervisors-a nun and two of the staff. The employees were trying to be inconspicuous, keeping their heads low with all the appearance of focusing on their food, but the nun wore a full habit, sucking on her water with grim determination, like she was the only one standing between a bunch of teenagers and the end of the world.
Her gaze darted around the restaurant much the same as Sam’s. He dropped his eyes before they could make contact, preferring to avoid the unpleasantness.
“So, Sam.” Sam shifted his eyes back to Jake, who was leaning on the table now. The other boy’s voice was purposefully low. “The Army Thing.”
Sam stared at him for a moment, blankly. Then he remembered-the reason why he’d joined Jake in the morning in the first place. The reason behind what they‘d fondly coined as Jake’s obsession with exercise.
“Right,” he said, leaning forward as well. “How’s that working out for you?”
The ‘Army Thing’ was still a recent topic for them. Sam had admitted his dad was a marine and, as a result, Jake thought of him as Hell House’s very own residential expert on how the military works. Sam couldn’t help but be annoyed by this-the knowledge he had couldn’t even fill a page.
He told Jake to do the same thing he told everyone who came to pick at his brain: do your own damn research. To his credit, Jake was neither offended nor dismissive of his advice. He was appreciative-even relieved-when Sam joined him in the morning, admitting that he had no idea what he was trying to condition himself for beyond basic ‘fitness tests’.
Sam, at the very least, could help him there.
Across the table, Jake was tracing a shape in the lingering condensation from his drink. “Still a little too young to be recruited, but I’ve heard that, with parent permission…” He trailed off meaningfully, his eyebrows raising high on his forehead when he looked up.
The solution seemed simple. “Call your parents.”
Jake’s eyes skittered away. He rubbed the back of his neck. “Thing is… my dad’s dead, but my mom…” Jake seemed uncomfortable now. “She worked so hard to provide for us. I don’t know if I want to put that kind of pressure on her. Plus, she, uh. She never answers.” His dark eyes shifted back to Sam. After a moment, he leaned back, shrugging. “Think I’ll ask the priests first. They’re technically our guardians right now.”
Sam made a face. “Yeah. I noticed that.” What kind of school systems allowed for the teachers to wrest parental controls away from the parents? What kind of parents allowed that in the first place? And why did John, of all people-
No. Sam shook his head slightly. That path led to bad thoughts. It was best not to muse on John’s motivations, especially when they were just going to make him mad.
-----
The trip went downhill very quickly, turning from mildly boring to downright bad as they headed back to the school.
It was a pleasant walk. Lily was cheerful, singing lightly under her breath, cajoling Jake to join her on every other verse. Andy started out moody, but gradually lightened up, talking animatedly about an insect he’d seen-the Maryland state insect. Sam didn’t even know there was such a thing, but Andy was glad to fill him in on the history of it.
Neither year-1983 or 1984--realized that they were missing one of the supervising staff members until after they walked all the way back to Saint Mary’s.
As usual, their groups split up, such that 1983 trailed further behind 1984. 1984 reached the gates first and were let inside by the one eyed gate keeper, who was one of the few members of the permanent staff at Saint Mary’s. He watched them pass by, suspicion lining his rather young face, and Sam knew he wasn’t imagining that the younger students were walking just a little bit faster to escape his gaze that much quicker.
Then the man-Eddie was his name-turned his eye on them, watching as Sam and his year approached the gate. As Sam picked up his pace, he thought, rather sheepishly, that he understood other students' unease.
As they entered the property, The case of the missing supervisor was solved rather quickly-and unhappily-as the missing man himself approached the gates from the chapel, a satisfied smile on his face. Sam’s hackles rose in response and he found himself in the front of the group, between his classmates and that man.
The man stopped a good ten feet from the gate, his hands in his pockets. His smile widened slightly when, behind Sam, nuns crowded Lily the second she passed the gates. Sam whipped around, but it was too late.
Frowning, Lily stepped back reflexively before realizing people were all around her. She circled once, shooting a clearly confused look toward Jake, Andy, and Sam, who lingered just outside of the ring.
Sam’s eyes darted over the face of the women. Some of them were familiar, the ones who never left Saint Mary’s and always taught classes-Sisters Elizabeth, Sara, and Catherine. Others were some of the satellite nuns, so named because they were always traveling and going places. They rarely stayed for long at Saint Mary’s, too busy with their mission.
Sister Elizabeth, who taught all of their year’s classes, spoke up. “You will report to the sacristy.” Her expression was absolutely stony.
Sam caught the edge of Eddie’s smirk out of the corner of his eyes, but, by the time Sam looked at him, the man was pulling the gates shut, locking them with heavy metal chains.
“What are you talking about?” Confused, Lily blinked, then shrugged. “Whatever.” She tried to push past them, but her arm was grabbed.
“Now, Lily,” the nun said. A warning lingered in her tone.
Sam swallowed, watching Lily’s tense expression, wondering if she was going to fight. He briefly knew relief when, cautiously, she nodded. The ring parted then and, with the nuns following her, Lily walked to the chapel, her back tight and her arms crossed over her chest.
Silence lingered between Andy, Sam, and Jake as shock glued them in place. The shock wore off.
“The fuck?” Jake growled, staring after them. He was as rigid as a statue.
“Thou shalt not make moves on girls,” Andy muttered, groaning. “Shit, that nun must have seen her. I told her not to rock the boat-”
“Goddamn this!” Jake shouted, kicking ineffectively at the ground. The ground, loosened by April showers, did not give much resistance to this. He fumed for a second longer and then, without further comment, he stalked across the property, making for the staff building.
There was a single phone in one of the offices, Sam knew. It was the only phone anyone ever saw on campus.
What Jake planned to do was rather obvious to Sam. Operation: Army Thing was a go.
Andy was quick on Jake’s heels. “Wait! What are you doing?”
“Leaving this place. Gonna call my mom, gonna get her to pick me up.” Jake spared a second to glare back at Andy. “This place is a nut house. I can’t stand it anymore!”
“You’re going to ask the staff first, right? Jake! You can’t call someone without supervision! Jake!“
Their voices echoed across the property, lonely and alone. Sam listened to them bicker until their words became meaningless. Then he looked at over his shoulder at the gate behind him. His eyes moved over the tall iron fence, the heavy chains binding the gate together, the rust peeking out under peeling paint. As he looked, he wondered why now, of all times, he felt like a willing prisoner.
------
Later that night, Lily staggered down the hall. She walked slowly, up alongside the wall, her shoulder dragging against it. Her arms were wrapped tightly around her chest, as if to keep in the warmth, and her eyes moved around endlessly.
Gone was her permanently relaxed demeanor. Gone was her defiant nature. Gone was her ambivalent personality.
Gone was the girl Sam both admired and resented.
There was no way this was a nervous breakdown, Sam decided suddenly. No way. Nothing normal made a confident girl look like that. It had to be something abnormal-curses, hexes, spells, assault, rape. Maybe nervous breakdowns were abnormal too, but he’d seen plenty of people-victims of the supernatural-have them, and this? This wasn’t a nervous breakdown.
She looked scared.
Sam swallowed, watching her carefully. When she came close enough, he stepped out from his doorway, revealing his presence.
Lily flinched badly, gasping. Her arms rose protectively in front of her and fearful eyes moved all over his face-assessing, he realized, for danger, for threat. She froze in place, like a deer in headlights and equally as vulnerable and expectant to pain.
“Alright, Lily?” he said gently, fingers spread and low, his palms pointing down. Internally, he was pissed. He wanted to kill something.
Lily tried to smile. “F-fine, Sam,” she said in a slightly too high voice. “Nothing’s wrong.”
A door closed down the hall, barely making a thud, but her head whipped to it like it was a shotgun blast. Her body was one, long line of tension against the wall, one that did not relax even when nothing further happened.
Making a concerned noise in his throat, Sam stepped toward her. Neatly, she stepped away, nervously licking her lip.
Fatigue bright eyes sought his gaze out tentatively. “I’m gonna… gonna go to bed now, okay?” She pointed to her door, like she thought he wouldn’t remember where she slept. Her bottom lip was wounded from her own teeth and there were shadows under her eyes.
Hurting for her, Sam hesitated, but eventually acquiesced. “Okay.”
After a moment, he stepped back. She immediately hurried past him, her eyes to the floor. Down the hall, her door opened quickly and slammed shut just as fast.
Sam looked down her way, hovering awkwardly in the empty hallway. He spared a second to glance at the ceiling before stepping back into his room. He too shut his door, feeling rather defeated.
He shuffled over to his bed, snatching a leather bound book from the desk as he passed it. He dropped down on the mattress, shifting until his back laid flat. With one ear on the hallway, Sam opened Thompson’s journal, picking up from where he left it last.
On July 17th, 1985, there was a short entry. It was as baffling as it was brief. Sam read it over and over again, trying to make sense of the stark, vague words scratched out in a quick, slanting hand.
“We have received word,” he murmured out loud, eyes flying over the few lines. “We are cast from Christ. Mortal was our failing in the eyes of man and Pope, but righteous it shall be in the eyes of our Lord, for He and He alone knows our most sacred, most holy mission.”
Mission. Sam paused to stare at the ceiling. That could mean anything. Saint Mary’s had a mission. Catholics had a mission. People had missions. Hell, even the Winchesters had a mission. But what mission was ‘most holy’?
Sam shook his head, stumped. Hoping to find meaning elsewhere, he read on to the next entry.
The letters were bolder, filled more with purpose, like Thompson had lingered over these words lovingly.
We have been accused of malicious sacraments, among other failings, but our brothers do not know our struggle. They concern themselves with the souls of penitent. To give absolution, our brothers say, is our duties as a representative of Christ. Whether or we believe in the worthiness of the soul we save, we must indeed save it if it comes to us in good intentions.
But they do not understand. We do not govern the souls of penitent. We govern souls of the forever damned, and thus our strategy must change accordingly.
They do not receive absolution because they will not stop. Why give absolution to a demonic beast that will commit the same crimes he confesses? They are damned before they reach us. They know their sins. They are not contrite. What conscience they examine is rife with inbred evil and malice, and they do not care. They are damned absolutely.
And now they damn us.
God help us all.
Chapter Seven