I do not own Supernatural.

"Blackbird singing in the dead of night,

Take these broken wings and learn to fly

All your life,

You were only waiting for this moment to arise."

—Blackbird by The Beatles

Jude walked stiffly alongside Sam and Dean, dressed as a nun. She had only gone to church when Catherine made the children at the home go to Sunday service. She didn't always make them go, and even then, it was a Baptist church, not a Catholic one.

"Father Valdecantos?" Sam called as they were halfway down the rows of pews.

The Father turned from the alter, walking toward the siblings.

"I'm Father Penn of the Dubuque Archdiocese," Sam continued, motioning to Dean and Jude. "This is—"

"Father DeNiro," Dean smiled.

"Sister Moore," Jude said, nodding meekly at the Father.

Sam said solemnly, "We're here to talk about Olivia Sanchez."

Father Valdecantos glanced between the three. "I'm not talking about that anymore." He turned around and started walking away.

"You sure were willing to talk to the press," Jude piped up quietly.

"And the cops," Dean added. "'Priest Claims Demons Walk Among Us.' Boy, that's quite the headline grabber."

"I said, I'm not talking about that—"

"No, we heard you," Dean interrupted. "Don't care."

The Father rolled his eyes. "You think I'm lying," he accused, "like my bishop, like everyone. But I knew Olivia. She was a good person. I watched her get flayed alive by some invisible force. That was the devil's work. I've been told the church doesn't want us talking like that anymore—too old-fashioned. But I know what I saw."

"You see any black smoke?" Dean asked him.

"What?" Father Valdecantos asked, confused.

"We don't think you're lying," Sam assured him. We just wanna ask you a few questions, that's all."

Father Valdecantos paused before replying, "Um, no. No smoke."

"What about sulfur?" Dean continued. "Did you smell, uh, rotten eggs?"

"No."

"You said she was speaking in tongues?" Jude asked, raising her eyebrows.

Father Valdecantos nodded shortly. "Yes," he answered. "It sounded like Hebrew. 'Prok yaw-thi a-law-haw.'"

"Sounds more like Aramaic than Hebrew," Sam commented, looking over at Dean and Jude.

Dean agreed, and Jude titled her head to the side, deciding to trust their judgement as she adjusted her headdress.

"What kind of priests are you?" The Father asked hesitantly.

"The old-fashioned kind," Dean responded, smiling tightly as he turned around. Jerking his head to the side, he motioned for Jude to follow, and she did.

As they continued down the church aisle, Dean spoke, "So no sulfur means no demon. You think the padre's right? We talking about Lucifer here?"

"Little small-time for him," Sam replied. "I dunno. Maybe a rogue angel?"

Jude wished she could help a little bit more, but, unfortunately, she was clueless. Looking over, she noticed that Dean stopped walking, choosing to watch a young boy light a candle with his mother. She knew that he was thinking about his own mother; Sam had informed them that their mother had recently come back into their lives, only to leave them again, saying she needed some space.

"Dean?" She murmured, nudging her brother.

He glanced over at her, blinking owlishly. "Yeah," he cleared his throat. "Uh, I'll make a call."

Jude watched Dean pace around as he talked to a 'literal, actual angel' named Cas. She was having a little bit of a hard time believing in angels. Her half-brothers assured her that they had the same questions at first, and she trusted their word.

"Wait, wait, wait," Dean said into the phone "what? Are you serious? Yes, Cas, that's weird. It's really, really weird. All right, yeah. Um... thanks for the heads up." He hung up his phone with a beep, and looked down, typing on it.

"I'm a thirteen year old girl," he muttered after a while, ignoring the confused look Jude sent him. He had tried his best to check in on Mary, and even let her know about Jude as best as he could, but he had heard nothing from her. It was beginning to worry him. Did she still love them? Or would she still want the family she had years ago?

"Hey," Sam called as he approached the two, coffees in one hand, a tablet in the other. "So what's the word? Did Cas have anything?"

Dean nodded. "Yeah, uh," he cleared his throat, grabbing a coffee. "Well, good news, uh, there's nothing on angel radio, and Heaven's still on lock-down, so rogue angel is out."

Taking the cup Sam offered her, Jude nodded, following along as she sipped the hot drink.

"Bad news?" Sam asked.

Dean huffed out a laugh before replying, "Cas is chumming it up with Crowley."

"And Crowley is?" Jude asked looking between Sam and Dean.

"A demon," Dean replied, "and a pain in our ass."

Jude nodded. Of course. Why not?

"They're hunting Lucifer. Together." Dean continued. "That's right—" he added off Sam's look. "—one's an angel, one's a demon, and apparently, they solve crimes."

"How's that working out?" Jude asked.

"Well enough," Dean allowed. "So Lucifer, the Lord of Evil, Angel of Light, is now the Master of Butt Rock." Pausing, he looked at Jude and Sam's unimpressed stares. "He jumped into Vince Vincente," he elaborated.

Jude laughed. "Seriously?"

Sam nodded in agreement. "The rock star?"

"The douchebag," Dean corrected. "Guy used to roll with purple hair down to his butt and a spiked codpiece." He walked past Sam, going to the car.

"It, it was the eighties," Sam replied.

Dean stopped. "The what?"

"It was the eighties," Sam repeated, chuckling.

"What, are you defending him?" Dean asked, seeming offended. He looked over at Jude, as if to say, Can you believe this guy?

Jude held up her hands in mock-surrender. "Don't look at me," She said. "I wasn't even alive in the eighties."

"I'm not defending him," Sam protested, before relenting, "I mean, his third album was kind of... not horrible."

"I hate you so much right now," Dean said in disgust.

"Pretty sure you guys are missing the point right now!" Jude called. "So this guy currently is the devil?"

"Well, I mean, he was always kind of the Devil," Dean informed her, "but, yeah, now it's official."

"Where is he?" Sam asked.

"Rowena blasted him to the bottom of the ocean," Dean replied. "She's a witch," he added off of Jude's questioning look.

"Why?" Jude asked.

"I don't know," Dean said. "Why does Sam love Vince Vincente?" He shot his brother an accusatory look.

Sam cut in, "I don't love—" he sighed, continuing, "anyways, uh, looked at those words. I was right. They are Aramaic." He pulled out a tablet and began to read from it. "'Prok yaw-thi a-law-haw.' It means, 'Save me, oh, God.'"

"Save me from what?" Dean asked immediately.

Sam shrugged, not knowing the answer as he walked to the passenger side of the car, Jude following him to get into the back.

Walking through the morgue, Jude tugged on the sleeve of her blouse.

"Body's right there, Agents," The man, Carl, Jude distantly remembered, said. "I can get her prepped to your—"

"That's great, Carl," Dean cut the other man off. "Uh, we'll take it from here."

Jude glanced at her brother in confusion as she tugged blue rubber gloves onto her hands. This is what she was good at. Working with the law enforcement, whether it be real or not, was her area of expertise.

"Oh? Okay," Carl said, confused as Dean took the clipboard from his hands. "Um, but, i-it's a weird'un. If you guys need anything at all, I'm—"

Dean cut him off again. "We won't. We won't. Thank you." He led Carl out of the room

"Are, are you sure?" Carl called as Dean shooed him out and shut the door behind him.

As Jude studied the body on the table, she called over her shoulder, "Wow."

"Wow what?" Dean asked her.

"Little, uh, tough on Carl, don't you think?" Sam added, pulling on his own pair of gloves.

Dean joined the two over by Olivia's body. "He's a big boy," he replied flippantly. "He can take it."

Sam and Jude shared a concerned look.

"Are you okay?" Sam asked finally.

"Peachy," Dean replied shortly, looking up from the file.

Sam apparently didn't buy it. "Really?" He asked. "'Cause ever since Mom left, you've been a little, uh, cranky."

Realizing this conversation wasn't meant for her to be a part of, Jude quietly took the file from Dean's hands and began to scan the body, looking at her feet and her hands, where there were severe wounds. She found herself in her own little world, easily blocking out Sam and Dean. Sh—

"Olivia Sanchez!" Dean spoke, pulling the file out of Jude's hand and her mind back to reality. "When the body was found, it had deep cuts on her back as though she'd been whipped, holes punctured through her hands and her feet, and pinprick wounds around the top of her skull. What's that sound like to you?"

"Stigmata," Sam replied, lifting up one of Olivia's hands, displaying a large hole going all the way through it.

"Bingo," Dean said, studying the hand. "Gets weirder," he commented.

Jude furrowed her eyebrows as she examined Olivia's forehead. "How?" She asked.

Sam took the file from Dean and began reading, "'The victim's skull was filled with a goopy mush.'" He and Jude looked at each other skeptically before they looked to Dean.

"That Carl paints quite a picture, doesn't he?" Dean asked rhetorically as he studied Olivia's head. "Alright," he said, straightening up. "What can do all that?"

Frowning, Sam shook his head. "I got nothing."

"Me neither," Dean agreed. "Well, maybe we should focus more on the case and less on the Dr. Phil crap." With that, he turned around and left the room.

Sighing, Sam handed Jude the file as the two followed their elder sibling.

"It's right over here," the woman, Beth, said as she led Sam, Dean, and Jude into an office. "This is—was Olivia's office."

"Who's is it now?" Jude asked as they came into the office, looking around.

"Kinda mine, now," Beth replied.

Dean motioned to the candle on the desk. "So is that yours?" He asked.

Beth waved a hand. "It's for positive energy," she explained. "I'm a Wiccan."

"Cool," Dean replied shortly, looking over at Sam.

"So how well did you know Olivia?" Sam asked, changing the subject.

"She was my boss," Beth answered. "Is it true what they're saying? That she, you know, killed herself?"

"Well, we're working on that," Sam answered. "Uh, now the day she died, was Olivia acting strange?"

Beth shook her head. "Not really. I mean," she trailed off, reconsidering. "She was getting headaches. Bad ones, like super migraines, but we all knew she was working too hard."

Sam nodded at Jude, prompting her to act.

"Did Olivia have any enemies?" Jude asked, feeling relieved when Sam smiled at her subtly and nodded again.

When Beth looked confused, Dean elaborated, "Somebody who held a grudge, maybe wanted to do her harm?"

Beth nodded. "Yeah." Again, she reconsidered her word choice. "I mean, Olivia was great, but this is Child Protective Services. We get threats all the time."

"From who?" Sam asked.

"Everyone," she replied. "You don't make a lot of friends when sometimes what's best for a family is to split them up."

Dean looked down, and Jude nudged him, silently asking if he was okay. He nodded, glancing to the side.

Sam cleared his throat. "Right. Um, yeah, can we see Olivia's case files?"

"Of course!" Beth nodded. "They're right over here."

They left the building, Sam holding the box of case files in his hands.

"Well, that was easy," Dean remarked as they made their way to the stairs.

"What was?" Jude asked, her brows furrowed as she looked up at him. Jude was rather tall for a woman, standing at five feet seven inches, but both of her brothers towered over her.

Dean looked back, a triumphant smirk on his face. "What? The Wicca'd Witch of the West in there. Little Miss Positive Energy wanted a bigger office, did a little hoodoo, boom. I say we put a witch-killing cap in her ass, call it a day."

Now Jude felt even more confused. "Yeah, but," she cleared her throat. She was out of her element here. Continuing, she said: "You said witches left hex bags, right?" She looked to Sam, gaining a little bit of confidence when he nodded, urging her to keep going. "We checked Olivia's house and the church, and we found nothing."

Dean allowed a small smile on his face. "Nice one kid, but probably just means she's covering her tracks."

They arrived at the car, and Dean began to fiddle with the keys.

"The point is," Sam said, "we're not looking at a witch here."

Unlocking the trunk to the Impala, Dean merely gave Sam an unimpressed look.

"I'm not saying it's not Beth," continued Sam, "I, I'm just saying we need proof. And look, if it's her, I'll shoot her myself."

Dean opened a case of bullets. "Oh, no, no, no, no," he said, shutting the box. "No, I'm definitely shooting her."

"Yeah, if she's a witch, right?" Jude asked, eyes widening. When Dean didn't reply, she looked at Sam, who rolled his eyes and motioned for her to get in the car.

Sam and Jude stood behind the police caution tape while Dean talked to the coroner and examined the latest victim.

"Coroner says signs of stigmata," Dean reported as Sam lifted the tape for him to walk under, "with a side of scrambled brains, just like Olivia."

"Great," Jude muttered.

"Did you find anything?" Dean asked them as they started walking.

Sam nodded. "Maybe. Kid delivered groceries all over town, so we checked his route against Olivia's case files."

"And?"

"There's one match," Jude replied smoothly.

A/N

Holy shit, I am so sorry I took this long to update? IDK what happened. Thank you guys for sticking with this story, and your continued support means a lot to me.

Anyway, that was part one of American Nightmare, and I hope you guys liked it! I'm working on part two currently, and I'll try to get it up soon. I now have a tumblr, as well! The username is ccandyappleredd, and I'd appreciate it if you guys would check it out!

Also, how do you guys like Jude so far? Let me know your thoughts and ideas, and I'll try to update soon! And don't forget, if you liked this chapter, please favorite, follow, and/or review!

Love,

Nell