A/N: As I said, I have a direction to this. But, I'll only continue if you want me to. And I was made aware by a friend that I have a crapload (my words, not hers) of characters in chapter one. I will try to clear things up, but I'm going to be introducing another character here. That's my goal for this chapter. Plus, I figure that I have a slight advantage—I know where I'm going with this. If you're confused with characters, please let me know.

Dark Mirror

Dean and Sam walked to the hospital's information desk and asked where Mark Reynolds' room was. They had their badges ready, but the receptionist didn't look up. She just rattled the room off.

"No one's investigating?" Dean whispered. "Dude almost got murdered, with his story of another woman in his bedroom, and no one's investigating?"

"Probably everyone figured that the responsible party is dead and that this woman is a hallucination from blood loss. She obviously can't be found. After all, the only prints that were found on the weapon belonged to Richard Adams'."

Dean stopped his march to the ICU and looked directly at Sam. "Do you really think there's nothing here? Because I saw another possible job in the papers. A possible succubus. Could be fun. I'll even serve as bait in that one."

"No!" Sam said, a little too forcefully. At Dean's look, he backed off. "I mean, we can look to see if this woman was real. We're here now, we might as well look into it."

Dean started his march back to the victim's room. Sam sighed and caught up to him, although he was still doubtful. Especially after their last hunt. Those kids weren't ghosts. He knew why Dean was doing this, and he didn't blame Dean for wanting to keep hunting and saving people.

Dean turned a corner and motioned towards a room. The door was open, and Sam peeked inside. A man was lying in bed, flipping through TV channels. He looked bored.

The guy glanced over in their direction, stiffening, looking like he wanted to get up and run, but couldn't, until he got a better look at Sam and Dean, who were entering his room.

"Mark Reynolds?" Dean asked.

"Yeah?"

Dean took out his badge. "I'm Detective Stratton, this is Detective Hoover. We're investigating your shooting."

Mark grinned. "Someone is taking my story seriously. I'm sorry for being suspicious when you were looking in. I didn't see you, just your shadows, and I thought you were the hospital's psychiatrist coming in to see me. I don't want to see her."

"You told the local cops that you saw a woman in your bedroom with the gunman?" Sam asked, taking a seat on the window ledge.

"Yeah. In fact, I thought I heard her even before I heard Rick come in. But, I went back to sleep." Mark sighed and winced in pain. "The last time I spoke to cops, they weren't taking me seriously about the girl. They couldn't find a trace of her, and since Rick killed himself after shooting us, I thought it was case closed. They thought I was in and out of consciousness, so I was hallucinating. What made them change their minds to believe me?"

"You said you saw her flickering in and out? Was there any electrical disturbances?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, she was flickering in and out, but there didn't seem to be any disturbances. Why? Is that important?"

"It might be."

Mark sighed again. "Jenny's dead. I knew Rick was a stalker. I just didn't think he'd get dangerous. He just struck me as wrong. There was a lot off with that woman as well. Particularly when she stood over Jenny's body. She sucked something out of her. She seemed frustrated that she couldn't get anything out of me. She sucked something out of Rick after he shot himself. But, I had to be hallucinating that."

"What did she suck out of Jenny and Rick?" Sam asked.

"Something that looked smoky."

"Black smoke?" Dean asked.

"No. White. It was shiny." Mark shook his head. "I had to be hallucinating."

"Did you get a good look at this woman?" Dean asked. "What did she look like?"

Just then, a nice looking blond woman in a doctor's coat came into the room, and Mark stiffened again and turned to face the wall. "Hi, Mark," the woman said. "I just wanted to stop by and see how you're doing. I talked to your surgeon. He said that you're healing nicely, and you ought to begin physical therapy soon."

Mark continued to stare at the wall.

The woman smiled sadly, then stepped forward, offering her hand to Sam and Dean, who shook it. "I'm the resident psychiatrist. Rachel Liebowitz. It's nice that Mark has visitors. He refuses to talk to me." She turned back to Mark, who continued staring at the wall. "All right. If you want to talk about what happened to you, at any time, just let one of the nurses know. They know how to get a hold of me. I'm on call. Or give me a call yourself. I always have my cell phone on whenever I'm not here or with another patient."

She smiled at Sam and Dean and walked out of the room.

Mark turned back to Dean. "You wanted to know what this woman looked like?" He nodded to the door. "Like her. Almost exactly like Dr. Liebowitz. So much like her that it's scary."

Dean got up and followed the woman down the hall. He could hear Sam following him. At the nurse's station, she turned them and smiled awkwardly at them and played with her Star of David necklace.

"Can I help you gentlemen?"

Dean glanced at Sam to see him taking out his badge, and he did the same. "We just have a few questions to ask you," Sam said as he flashed her his badge.

She read his badge. "Of course, Detective Hoover. I'm a little surprised, though. I thought Mark's case was considered closed."

"Christo," Dean muttered through his hand, watching her intently to see if her blue eyes would change color.

She frowned, puzzled. "Excuse me, Detective Stratton?"

Dean cleared his throat. "I know that Mark isn't really feeling like talking to you. But, do you know anything of his shooting?"

"Just what the cops and his surgeon have told me. I'd like to get Mark's thoughts and feelings, though. He won't talk to me."

"Any idea why?" Sam asked.

"Apparently, I look like the woman in his bedroom." She sighed. "Listen, I've been through all of this with your colleagues. I'll tell you what I told them: on the night of his shooting, I was asleep in my bed. I had a 60 hour week, and I was exhausted. Plus, I was on call. And the admitting doctor woke me up to tell me he got a shooting victim in."

"Psychiatrists have to be on call?" Dean asked.

"Surprisingly, yeah. My subspecialty's in emergency medicine. The doctors call me whenever they're short-handed in the ER or whenever there's a trauma victim or suicide attempt. I also counsel family members of victims. Suggest clinical psychiatrists. That sort of thing."

"Why would Mark think you look like the woman in his bedroom?"

"Here's my theory: since I was in his recovery room when he woke up after his surgery, he's confusing me with the woman who was in his room."

"Do you believe she existed?" Sam asked.

Rachel hesitated. "The cops can't find any trace of her, but if Mark saw her, then I think she existed. I don't think it was a case of him losing consciousness." She looked at her watch. "Do you have any other questions? I need to go on rounds."

"No," Sam said.

"Sorry to cut you off, but I really have to go. I'm already late." With that, she walked away.

Sam felt her brush against him as she walked past him.

"Dr. Liebowitz?"" Dean called after her. When she turned around, he asked, "Why are you trying to treat Mark Reynolds?"

She sighed and walked back up. "I'm trying to keep him from experiencing survivor's guilt. It's pretty common to live through something like that. Also, he's showing very classic signs of depression, which is also common. Once he gets out of here, I'm recommending a good clinical psychiatrist to him. If he'll talk to me."

With that, she walked away.

"Now what?" Sam asked.

"The shooter went out with friends and roommates that night, right? I'd say we talk to them." Dean walked towards the exit.


The three boys looked to be twelve in Dean's opinion. Too young to be going out drinking at bars. Too young to be here, meeting them at a bar. He wondered just when he got old. He had to remind himself that two of these three boys were Adams' roommates. The third was a friend.

The kids looked over the badges he and Sam showed them, although Dean knew they didn't know what they were looking at. In fact, they seemed awed to be in the presence of "detectives."

Dean bit back a groan. These guys were almost ready to graduate from college, and they didn't recognize the aliases. He wondered what college teaches everyone. Sam barely knew where Dean had gotten the aliases from.

"We're sorry about your friend," Sam said, interrupting Dean's thoughts.

Dan, one of the boys (Dean had to look at Sam's notes to figure out which kid was which), quietly said, "Thanks. We knew he was depressed, but we didn't know just how depressed he was."

"We hoped getting him out of the apartment would help Rick. But it obviously hurt him," Scott said, returning with beers.

"So, what happened?" Sam asked.

"I thought he was doing good, when he picked up that looker. But, she left him shortly before we got outside to meet him. That couldn't have helped him," Tony said. "I think that led to him killing Jenny and himself. It's tragic. Those two did make a good couple."

"Did any of you actually see the woman he picked up?" Dean asked.

"I didn't get a good look at her, but I saw her," Tony said.

"What did she look like? Were there any electrical disturbances?"

Tony frowned. "No electrical disturbances. She was blond, classy-looking. Too sophisticated to be here, you know?" He gestured at the bar. "Actually, I think that's her picking up that guy."

Dean and Sam turned to look. A woman who looked a lot like Rachel Liebowitz was flirting with a geeky-looking man. She seductively rubbed his arm.

"So much for being on call tonight," Dean muttered.

Sam stood up, followed by Dean, and intercepted the woman and the geeky man at the door. Dean grabbed the beer the woman was drinking and splashed holy water into it.

The man was grinning from ear to ear. The woman looked at Sam, annoyed and disgusted. Her brown eyes lit up when she saw Dean.

"Do you guys have a problem?" the man asked in a very nasal voice.

"Nope. No problem," Dean said. He handed the woman the beer. "We thought maybe you wanted to finish your drink."

She kept her eyes fixed on him as she downed her drink.

As both Sam and he stepped back from the door, she bumped into Sam as she walked past him.

Once they were at the door, Sam turned to Dean, "Do you think she's possessed?"

Dean gestured with the empty beer mug. "She didn't react to the holy water."

"Her eyes were a different color. Other than that, she was identical to Rachel."

"Something's off about her, though," Dean said. "I don't think that was Rachel. It's someone else."

"A shapeshifter?" Sam asked.

Dean shrugged. "I'd like to know what's up with the guys she picks. I think we've got all the information we need about the shooting. I want to know more about Dr. Liebowitz and her doppelganger."

TBC

A/N: OK, now, after this chapter, my "cast" becomes a lot less bloated. Forget most of the characters. They aren't important.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter.

Also, how much do you know your movie trivia? Which movie did I pick the aliases from? It's also the movie that I picked Rachel's last name from. It's one of my favorite movies (which tells you a little something about my sense of humor. Although, I don't tend to like this movie's knockoffs and copycats), and it seems like such a Dean movie. I really need to rewatch this movie this weekend.