Salt Lake City, UT

A tall, slim brunette peered anxiously through the window, into the room. The patient within stared up at the ceiling, no movement, no interaction. It was almost too much to bear.

"Fiona?"

The brunette turned as a short, wiry doctor approached. She nodded to him and resumed watching the patient.

"Still no change, Dr. Brennan?"

The doctor sighed. "This is not a hospital, Miss Waites. We are keeping your sister as comfortable as we can, caring for her as best we know how."

Tears welled in Fiona's blue eyes. "I just wish there was something you could do, something anyone could do! Kami's still alive, isn't she? No person should ever have to live so isolated from absolutely everything!"

"Fiona, you must understand: Kami is perfectly content with her lot in life because it is the only life she has ever known. Not being able to walk, see, hear, or speak is, for all she knows, the way everyone else functions, as well. She does find things to entertain herself."

"Like what?"

Dr. Brennan pointed through the window. "See that typewriter over there?"

Fiona noted the squat brown contraption as the doctor continued.

"A therapist outfitted it with Braille keys, so she has been using that to communicate and write the things she's thinking about when there's no one to sign with."

Fiona nodded. "What kinds of things?"

Dr. Brennan gestured back down the corridor to his office.

"Follow me. I can show you."

In the small office, Dr. Brennan shuffled through a stack if folders and found one containing several sheets of typed pages. "These are from the last week," he said.

Fiona skimmed the pages. "These look like one side of a conversation," she remarked.

Dr. Brennan smiled wryly. "Keep reading."

Fiona flipped through three pages of Kami describing her day to someone who was evidently new to the whole experience. She caught a name in the middle of the third page. She looked up in confusion.

"Who is Mary?"

Dr. Brennan shrugged his round shoulders. "Your guess is as good as mine. We have at least three Marys in this wing, but none of them have ever visited Kami." He hesitated. "Besides—she typed these out when there was no one else in the room."

Fiona let the hands holding the papers drop in her lap. "My sister is having imaginary conversations with a figment she dreamed up whom she arbitrarily named Mary? Are you certain she is not hallucinating?"

"She succeeds in all the psychological tests we can administer for such a special case," Dr. Brennan reassured her. "So I can say with reasonable confidence that I think she is not completely psychologically detached."

Fiona tossed the folder onto the desk. "Then who is this Mary person she imagines herself talking to?"

Dr. Brennan shrugged. "Why don't we ask her that?"

Fiona followed the doctor back to Kami's room. Seeing her there, useless legs sprawled on the bed, sightless eyes staring at the ceiling, broken ears hearing nothing—Fiona fought back the tears.

Dr. Brennan pushed a buzzer near the door that caused a remote in the young patient's right hand to vibrate slightly.

"That lets her know when someone is coming into the room," he explained.

Sure enough, as they neared her bed, Kami lifted her hand for Dr. Brennan to take. He signed into her palm, speaking his words for Fiona's benefit.

"Your sister is here," he informed Kami.

The young woman's face lit up and she reached out her left hand. Fiona grasped it. Turning her sister's hand palm-up, Kami signed, "I miss you."

"I miss you too," Fiona signed back. "How are you?"

"Happy to be alive."

Fiona's breath caught, and for once she was actually glad her deaf sister could not hear her choking back the sobs in her throat. She felt Dr. Brennan's right hand on her shoulder, comforting her, giving her courage. Fiona forged ahead.

"Dr. Brennan showed me your stories."

"What stories?"

Fiona frowned. "The stories about Mary."

Kami stuck her lip out in a pout. "Those are not stories."

"But who is Mary?"

"Mary is my friend. She comes to me."

Fiona glanced at Dr. Brennan, who shook his head; there was no Mary visiting her at any time, and certainly no way for any unauthorized visits.

"When does Mary come?" Fiona signed.

"Sometimes when I sleep," Kami signed back. "She comes and speaks to me."

Fiona blinked. "Kami," she fought to keep her hands steady as her body trembled, "do you see Mary?"

"No," Kami replied immediately. "But I can hear her voice. She is a nice woman."

Fiona looked as if she was sure her sister was delusional, but Dr. Brennan said, "Keep asking her questions; this is the most I've heard about Kami's friend. Whenever I have tried to ask her, apparently Mary appears and Kami prefers to talk to her."

Reluctantly, Fiona turned back to her sister. "Tell me about Mary," she signed.

"Mary is from Kansas," signed Kami, "but she does not have a home anymore."

"Does Mary have a family?"

"Yes. A husband, and two sons. They are not together anymore."

"Mary and her husband are divorced?"

"No. I think he died. And the sons are never in one place long enough for her to find them."

Dr. Brennan shook his head when Fiona relayed her sister's words.

"Find them? This is definitely unlike any kind of delusion I've ever heard of. Ask why Mary wants to find her sons."

Fiona did, and Kami hesitated a long time before answering.

"She wants to atone for everything that happened to them."

Once again, Fiona and the doctor exchanged glances. There was no way a girl like Kami could invent something this elaborate.

Fiona almost called it quits and pulled away from Kami's hand, but the young woman gripped it. "You need to find them," she signed, her nails digging into Fiona's palm.

"Find who?" Fiona signed back, dreading the answer.

"Mary's sons. Maybe I can help her make atonement."

Fiona went to pull away, and again, Kami gripped her wrist. "Promise?"

The tall brunette groaned; that Kami was dedicated to helping this Mary person could be borne—but to rope her into it? That was unfair. Kami wouldn't let go until Fiona repeated the sign, "Promise."

Her cell phone rang as soon as she left the care center.

"Hello? Yeah, I was just visiting Kami. Get this, she has a mysterious friend that she can hear in her head. I know, right? It's crazy; she has this whole story to go with it. Well, the lady's name is Mary, single mom with two kids, she lives in Kansas, and she's trying to reconcile with her boys but they move around a lot and she can't find them. Crazy, right? I figured this would be right up your alley, you being a writer and all. Uh-huh, I bet you would. Sure, have at it! Maybe you'll have the whole story finished by the time we get together next week! Okay, see you then. Bye."

Somewhere in the Midwest...

Dean strode into the motel room with his hands full of fast food in paper bags.

"Soup's on!" He called to Sam, hunched over his computer in the back corner.

"Yeah, be there in a sec," Sam muttered. There was no mistaking the crease in his forehead.

Dean set the bags on the table.

"I know that look," he remarked, "that's your 'get-ready-to-pack-it-in' look. What put us back on the FBI Watch-list this time?"

Sam was reading a large block of text; Dean could tell by the way his lips moved. "It's not that," responded Sam at last. Still he did not take his eyes off the screen.

Dean grew tired of waiting. He crossed the room and joined his brother. "What is it that's got you so locked up, then? Porn? Fanfiction?"

Sam leaned back so Dean could read over his shoulder.

"Neither. Try 'Some Blogger in Utah Thinks She Found Mary Winchester.'"

Dean swore and read aloud from the blog.

"Others can't see her, but I can. She wore the white nightgown she died in, her soft golden hair falling around her face. Laying there in the hospice bed, her life slowly seeping away, she has but one dying wish: to see her sons again. But they are too far away, and she must move on into the Netherworld with this one last wish unfulfilled."

Sam was so stunned he couldn't move. Dean hung his head, overcome with the implications of this seemingly-fictionalized account.

"Do... Do you think it's really her?" Sam stammered huskily.

Dean pursed his lips; after that night in their old home—the last time either of them saw their mom—he had found old, pressed-down emotions opening like fresh wounds, and every bit as painful. He couldn't shove them down any more.

"Pack it up," he said curtly.

Sam shut his laptop. "What? Dean, we've been here for only six hours—"

"And that's long enough for you to find some random post on some random blog by a lady from Utah who might know something about Mom!" Dean fired back.

Sam bit back a stinging retort. Something in his brother's reaction, the things Dean said and the way he looked, told Sam how much Dean missed the woman Sam barely knew. Dean wasn't normally a "drop-everything-and-go" kind of guy—except when family was involved.

Sam chose his words carefully. "Dean, I think we might want to keep hunting for a while; if what this lady is writing about is true, Mom isn't in any danger. She'll be fine till we fi—"

"This is not up for discussion!" Dean grabbed his duffel, slung it over his shoulder, and stalked out of the motel.

Dean waited in the idling Impala till Sam joined him.

"Where are we headed?"

Sam glanced over, but Dean still wouldn't look at him.

"Hospice Care Center in Salt Lake City," he answered.

"Salt Lake?" Dean verified, pulling onto the highway. "Okay, we should be there by tomorrow."

Sam glanced at his brother, shook his head, and hunkered down for another long night of driving.

*A/N: This is just an idea that I've had bouncing around in my brain since early Season 4... but I can't figure out where it could fit in the timeline, or where specifically the boys could be at. What do you think? PM me if you want to make a suggestion (just so you don't clog the reviews if you're not actually reviewing.) Thanks for the feedback, and I hope you enjoy what's coming! -KM