Chapter Text
Dean was only a few hundred yards behind the possessed girl when she slipped through the old church gates and ran straight for the dark wood doors on front of the large stone church. The hunter shook his head but pursued anyway, ignoring the old fashioned notion of sanctuary.
He stepped inside the building and the cold from the ancient stone caused a chill to run straight to his bones but he couldn’t hesitate. Foot steps echoing, he charged directly down the centre aisle whilst peering left and right into the pews. The hunter stood in front of the pulpit breathing heavily as he cast his eyes across the dimly lit space in hopes of finding the demon.
Shadows appeared to move due to his heightened senses but suddenly the girl leapt out from behind a column close to him and attempted to slit his throat with the knife she had been wielding for the last hour or so. Dean fought back, knocking the blade from it’s grasp and kicking it across the red carpet that covers the front of the church. It clattered as it made contact with the pews.
Despite her smaller size, the demon invigorated strength into the young girl making the struggle equally matched. Each time Dean attempted to mutter the first words of the exorcism he got punched or strangled for a moment which ended the ritualistic chant.
With a surge of power the demon forced Dean onto his knees and with it’s hands wrapped around his neck began chanting something that the hunter could feel was draining life from him.
So suddenly that it took both the demon and Dean by surprise, water was being poured upon his attacker in droves. The hunter blinked against the water in his eyes so could hear before he saw the demon’s skin crackling and steaming as the water burnt it’s flesh. He suddenly realised that someone had doused the creature in Holy water. It screamed and collapsed to the floor.
The figure, which Dean could now see since the demon had collapsed, suddenly shot off behind the pulpit and towards the altar. It only took a moment for the demon to be up and chasing as rage fuelled it’s sudden burst of adrenaline. The hunter cried out to try and waylay it but it had focused it predatory gaze on whoever had attempted to save Dean. The thing wanted revenge.
His cry was still echoing throughout the empty building when the demon’s accompanied his. He shot up and followed the sound to uncover the source of it’s anguish.
Jaw slack, he stared at the demon and the stranger in absolute shock. It was frozen in place on the richly coloured carpet only a few yards from the altar, clearly the work of a pentagram hidden underneath, with a man stood closely reciting the words of the exorcism effortlessly. He had a Bible and cross held out towards the demon. Moments later, dark smoke bellowed from the young girl’s frame and she collapsed.
The man was panting when Dean stepped closer. The guy, dressed fully in black, turned reflectively at the sound of Dean’s steps with his religious symbols extended in defence. He relaxed though upon noticing that the Holy water was dripping from the hunter with no negative side effects.
It was then that Dean noticed the white clerical collar strapped tightly under the man’s shirt collar.
His mind was still processing this when he tried to stutter out his thanks, “Thank you... You probably saved my life back there, Father-?”
The man stepped forward, holding out a hand to shake, “Sam. It’s better to drive out the parasite before it ruins that girl’s life.”
At that, the priest knelt down beside the injured girl and lifted her head to see if she was still breathing. Upon noting the gentle rise and fall of her chest he smiled softly, “Oh, Josephine. Your mom must be worried sick about you.” He looked back up to the hunter, “I’ll return her to her family tonight.”
Father Sam stood and moved closer to the hunter, “I hope that the demon is all you’re chasing here? I dislike seeing your kind here since you’re usually following trouble.”
Dean couldn’t help but smile at the man’s gentle expression but cheeky smile.
“That’s all I was after.” Raising his hands in an innocent gesture. He hesitated for a moment, “How come your exorcism was so powerful?” He didn’t want to outright confess that he was impressed by this man’s skill but he definitely was.
Sam grinned, “Religious words definitely hold more authority when wielded by a priest.” His face lit up as he chuckled and Dean couldn’t stop himself from being drawn in to the perfect teeth and sparkling eyes.
“Right,” He chuckled, “I guess that’s a given. Maybe I’ll have to get ordained just to help with my exorcisms.”
The priest laughed harder, “Maybe leave the religion to me and I’ll leave the hunting to you.”
It was one of the last things they said to each other before they parted; Sam went to return the girl home and Dean returned back to his motel exhausted from another long hunt. However, what both of them didn’t want to admit was that they didn’t stop thinking of the other all night.
——
It was only a couple of months later and Dean didn’t want to admit he’d taken this case because it was pretty close to a certain church where there was a certain hot priest. He was ashamed to admit that he hadn’t stopped thinking of Father Sam since the day he stepped out of that church and hit the road. Even though he knew that the priest probably wouldn’t even remember him.
He had unconsciously created his excuse and had allowed himself to believe it was true. He had 2 empty bottles on his back seat which he needed filling with Holy water. The hunter could make it himself but surely water blessed by a priest would hold more power. That’s what he was trying to tell himself anyways. Bobby was suspicious of Dean’s eagerness to take the case of a low-key haunting but he didn’t know who lived a couple of towns over.
His old midnight black impala grumbled to a stop outside the old church but it appeared to be dark inside. Climbing out the car he patrolled the perimeter in search of a sign that would point him in the direction of his priest. As it was nearly midnight, darkness shrouded the town making his search full of trips and stumbles. He muttered more than a few curses that were not quite appropriate for a churchyard.
After what felt like an age the hunter was nearly ready to call it quits for the night when he noticed a small stone cottage on the other side of the church’s graveyard. Light shone out dimly though the curtains hanging inside the windows giving it a warm homely glow. For some reason he could feel himself being pulled towards the house with his empty containers in hand.
Much stumbling later, he knocked the door and peered around into the darkness as he waited. Rapidly, he started thinking up lies just in case this wasn’t Father Sam’s rectory; he’d have to explain pretty quickly why he was roaming around in the dark with large empty containers.
He was still constructing a feasible story when the old door swang open to reveal Sam in a old t-shirt and well worn sweats. The usually neat hair was flopping over messily suggesting that Sam had been asleep mere moments before.
Even though he was the one who had knocked, Dean was surprised when the door opened to reveal the man of his searching, “Father Sam.”
“You’re that hunter... Quickly, come inside.” He ushered the man in as he continued talking, “It was only after we said goodbye last time that I remembered that I had never asked your name.”
“Dean.” He muttered, mouth suddenly very dry. He hadn’t been prepared for Sam to answer the door looking so deliciously disheveled.
“Is there a problem, Dean?” The priest asked urgently, “Is there something out there plaguing my town?”
“No, no!” The hunter hurried to reassure the young priest, “I actually came in search of some Holy water... You know, for demons...”
Sam’s browns rose in surprise, “Of course. Follow me.” He grabbed the old church keys as he led Dean out to the graveyard again.
The holy man, familiar with the short journey, walked without stumbling over the uneven ground and tree roots. Dean was not as fortunate.
Once inside the church Sam led him back to the office where an ornate basin was stored. The water inside was still as a mirror, the men peered down at the surface for a moment before Sam spoke again.
“Take as much as you need. I can make more.” There was a brief silence as Dean began filling the large gallon tubs, “Don’t you hunters usually make this yourselves?”
The hunter blinked at him, his mind seemingly unable to stop fixating on the soft dimple on the other man’s cheek. Finally, he managed to mumble out, “Thought it might be stronger from a priest... like the exorcism.”
Sam nodded but a faint smile ghosted across his lips as though he didn’t quite buy Dean’s excuse. The hunter could feel a blush dusting across his cheeks so he peered down as though focusing on his work. The second tub was nearly full and he knew in a few moments he’d have no excuse to be here.
Bending down to fiddle with the caps on his holy water his head was level with Sam’s grey sweatpants. The hunter coughed and righted himself straight away. Internally, he cursed himself for being so attracted to this totally unobtainable priest but also cursed the priest for being so hot and unobtainable.
Sam gave him a soft smile that shot a fuzzy feeling to Dean’s stomach, “Did you want to come back to the house for a nightcap before your hunt? Or are you in high demand?”
Dean chuckled but readily accepted the gracious offer. Surely a few more moments in the presence of a priest could only help his hunting abilities. Minutes later, they were settled into Sam’s old couch which was covered by an old throw. It was exactly how he’d imagined it to be: huge bookcases filled the walls full of biblical texts and a couple of thriller novels rammed in the gaps. The couches sagged heavily as though thousands of parishioners had laid their heavy wind there. The home was small and cosy.
The questions started coming before he could stop himself.
“Does all the demons and stuff make you believe less?” The hunter cringed at his own question. He out of all people should know better than to start talking religion and philosophy with a priest. Maybe Sam’s good scotch made his tongue loose.
Sam sighed but a smirk twitched on his mouth. Every time he moved his mouth Dean could imagine kissing him, “If anything it makes me believe more. To me it’s like two sides of a coin... the confirmation that there is evil in the world suggests that there will be good and God.”
“I’ve met an angel,” Dean supplied.
Sam’s smile lit up his whole being, “I hope you’re not just talking about me.” Chuckling, he topped up their drinks.
Oh shit, Dean thought, I’m falling and I’m falling hard.