I just wanted to thank all of you for your feedback! I'm really glad you're enjoying the story so far :)
This one is a bit shorter than the others, but I hope you still like it!
I stood there, listening as Rose started humming to herself, pouring the batter she was mixing into a small pan.
I'm really doing the world a favor, here. They're such boring people.
I moved across the kitchen, wrapping my arms around Rose's waist.
"What's that for?" She asked with a small chuckle, a smile spreading across her lips.
"Just felt like it."
Rose glanced up at the clock, turning around to face me. "It's way past your curfew."
"I guess I just lost track of time." I shrugged, eying the knife behind her.
"What's going on with you, sweetie?" She asked, moving over to my side. She tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, looking up at me with love in her eyes.
"I just feel a little different." I mumbled, looking down at her.
"Different how?" She asked, concerned.
I stared down at her, blinking once before she let out a small yelp as I grabbed her by the throat – pushing her against the counter and grabbing the knife at the same time. I heard footsteps behind me, and turned my head to see Peter standing there, his eyes wide.
"Oh, this is just like a wet dream I had once." I laughed and grabbed Rose, quickly positioning her in front of me with the knife held tightly to her throat. I couldn't believe what I was doing. I had no idea why any of this was even happening and I was powerless to stop it.
"Why are you doing this?" Rose cried, looking back at me.
I shrugged. "I've got some unfinished business with your Hubby. Plus, it's just fun."
Peter stared at me, looking straight through me. I saw something in his eyes, something had clicked."Please, if you want me, then fine...just let my wife and Victoria go."
I stared over at him with a blank expression for a moment, pretending to think it over.
"Okay." I sighed, starting to let go of Rose – who let out a relived breath, reaching a hand out to Peter.
I let out low chuckle, shaking my head as I pulled her back just before she got out of my arms, quickly slicing her throat with the knife. Peter let out a pained cry as I let his wife's body fall to the ground beside me.
I screamed and screamed on the inside until my voice broke for the only mother I'd ever known. I tried, but I still couldn't stop what was happening.
I held tighter onto the knife in my hand, grinning up at Peter. "Long time no see, preacher man."
I jolted upright, breathing heavily as I looked around. I was in the backseat of the Impala. I was with the boys. I was safe. I muttered the same mantra to myself over and over as I glanced around, noticing we were in a small parking lot.
Dean glanced back at me, shaking his head as he looked over at Sam. "More nightmares?"
"Yeah..." I muttered, rubbing my face with my hands as I pulled my hair over my shoulder.
"Hey, at least I got some sleep." Sam mumbled, making it seem like it was no big deal. I let out a sigh, playing with the ends of my hair as I tried to forget the memories my mind trudged up yet again.
"You know, sooner or later you're gonna have to talk about this." Dean said, raising an eyebrow at his brother.
Sam glanced out the window, ignoring him. "Are we here?"
Dean rolled his eyes, shaking his head. "Yup. Welcome to Toledo, Ohio."
Yesterday we'd read about a man, Steven Shoemaker, dying very suddenly in his home. And, of course, Dean thought there was a job, and so we came to check it out.
Sam picked up the newspaper and glanced over it. "So what do you think really happened to this guy?"
"That's what we're gonna find out." Dean said, pulling the keys out of the ignition. "Let's go."
MORGUE – DAY
We stepped into a dark room with two desks lining the right wall with nameplates on them. One read, Morgue Technician and the other Dr. D. Feiklowicz. The man sitting at the desk with the Morgue Technician plate on it, popped his head up in our direction as he heard us walk in.
"Hey." He mumbled, looking a bit suspicious.
"Hey." Dean nodded.
"Can I help you?" The man asked, raising his eyebrow.
"Yeah. We're the, uh...med students." Dean muttered as he glanced around the dark room.
"Sorry?"
"Oh, Doctor-" Dean paused, glancing at the nameplate on the desk to his right. "-Figlavitch didn't tell you?"
I let out a small sigh, shaking my head as the technician stared up at him, not believing a word he said.
Couldn't be because he butchered the doctor's name.
"We talked to him on the phone. He, uh- we're from Ohio State." Dean said, digging himself even deeper. The more he lied the less confident he sounded, and I couldn't resist the urge to roll my eyes at him. "He's supposed to show us the Shoemaker corpse. It's for our paper." Dean continued.
"Well, I'm sorry, he's at lunch." The tech mumbled, looking back down at the desk.
"Oh well he said, uh-" Dean stumbled over his words, glancing back at Sam and I for some kind of help. I just shrugged, shaking my head.
No one could save him now, he was in too deep.
Dean tuned back around with a huff, glancing down at the Tech. "Oh, well, you know, it doesn't matter. You don't mind just showing us the body, do you?"
"Sorry, I can't. Doc will be back in an hour. You can wait for him if you want." The man said simply.
"An hour? Ooh. We gotta be heading back to Columbus by then." Dean said, looking back at me again. I rolled my eyes and mumbled something that sounded like an agreement. "Uh, look, man, this paper's like half our grade, so if you don't mind helping us out-"
"Uh, look, man...no."
Dean laughed under his breath talking a step back to me, an annoyed look on his face. "I'm gonna hit him in his face, I swear."
I'd had enough and pushed past Dean patting his butt – discreetly taking his wallet out on the way. I almost couldn't believe he didn't notice.
I made my way over to the desk, leaning down on it with a smile. The man glanced up at me, his eyes scanning over my body as he looked up at my face. I took a deep breath, glancing back at the boys before I pulled a few twenties out of the wallet and threw them down on the desk, a stone cold look on my face.
The tech glanced up at me, then back down at the money – finally picking it up. "Follow me." He muttered, getting up.
Sam walked ahead, quickly following him with a grin. I was about to follow when Dean lightly grabbed my arm, turning me around. I smirked up at him as he grabbed the wallet out of my hands.
"How did you even-"
"It's not my fault that you couldn't tell I pulled your wallet out of your pocket, Dean." I muttered, smiling up at him.
"I earned that money." He huffed, narrowing his eyes.
"You won it in a poker game." I said, still smiling.
"Yeah, and?"
"Dean, really? It got us in." I said, shaking my arm out of his grip. I quickly followed after Sam, with Dean trailing behind slowly.
The three of us stood on one side of the body, the tech on the other as we stared down at it.
"Now the newspaper said his daughter found him. She said his eyes were bleeding." Sam said.
"More than that. They practically liquefied." The tech told us, pulling back the black cover to reveal a man with dark hair, his skin pale with blood stains on his face coming down from his eyes sockets, which were stained with red...but other than that, completely empty.
"Any sign of a struggle? Maybe somebody did it to him?" Dean asked, glancing up from the corpse.
"Nope. Besides the daughter, he was all alone."
"What's the official cause of death." I asked, seemingly not able to look away from his eyes. Or where they used to be, at least.
"Ah, Doc's not sure. He's thinking massive stroke, maybe an aneurysm? Something burst up in there, that's for sure." The tech mumbled, staring down at the body.
"What do you mean?" Sam asked, looking up at him.
"Intense cerebral bleeding. This guy had more blood in his skull than anyone I've ever seen."
"The eyes what would cause something like that?"
"Capillaries can burst. See a lot of bloodshot eyes with stroke victims."
"Yeah? You ever see exploding eyeballs?" Dean asked, looking a bit disturbed as he stared down at the man's face.
The tech shrugged, glancing up at Dean. "That's a first for me, but hey, I'm not the doctor."
"Hey, you think we could take a look at that police report?" I asked, finally looking up at the tech. "You know for, uh, our paper."
The tech looked over at me with a shrug. "I'm not really supposed to show you that." He said, raising an eyebrow, his eyes darting between the three of us.
Sam let out a small huff and pulled out his wallet with a shake of his head.
Once we had the files, we made our way back downstairs and out to the car.
"Might not be one of ours. Might just be some freak medical thing." Sam muttered.
"How many times in Dad's long and varied career has it actually been a freak medical thing and not some sign of an awful supernatural death?" Dean asked, looking back at Sam and I as we trailed behind him.
"Almost never." I muttered.
"Exactly."
"All right, let's go talk to the daughter." Sam said, giving in.
SHOEMAKER HOUSE – DAY
We walked into the house as the funeral was in full swing. People were mulling around, speaking to one another...grieving. I suddenly felt very bad for being here. We were intruding on something kind of sacred, and I felt terrible about it.
Dean leaned down towards me, whispering in my ear. "Feel like we're under dressed."
I looked up at him, shaking my head as he stared at all the people. "I feel horrible. We shouldn't be here."
Dean sighed, shrugging as we continued walking through the house. We stopped at two glass doors leading out to the backyard. There was a man standing there next to the door, so Sam went over to ask where Steven's daughter's were, telling him we were family friends. He pointed us in the direction of three young girls sitting next to each other on a bench.
I lingered back a bit as the boys walked over, still feeling terrible for even being here.
"You must be Donna, right?" Dean asked, a small smile on his face as he and Sam approached the girls.
"Yeah." The dark haired one muttered, looking suspicious.
"Hi, uh- we're really sorry." Sam said, an apologetic look in his eyes.
"Thank you." She mumbled, looking over at a much younger girl with long brown hair, who sat next to her.
"I'm Sam, this is Dean, and that's Tori. We worked with your dad." Sam told her.
Donna glanced over at the blonde next to her, then back up at us. "You did?"
"Yeah." Dean nodded. "This whole thing. I mean, a stroke."
"I don't think she really wants to talk about this right now." The blonde said, narrowing her eyes at Dean.
Donna shook her head. "It's okay. I'm okay."
"Were there any symptoms? Dizziness? Migraines?" Dean asked, getting right into it.
"No." Donna said, shaking her head.
The younger girl beside her turned towards us. "That's because it wasn't a stroke." She said adamantly.
"Lily, don't say that." Donna told her.
"What?" Sam asked, looking over at Lily.
"I'm sorry, she's just upset." Donna apologized.
"No." Lily said, getting upset. "It happened because of me."
"Sweetie, it didn't." Donna said.
"Lily." I bent down in front of her. "Why would you say something like that?"
"Right before he died, I said it." She told me.
"You said what?" I asked, slightly afraid of the answer.
"Bloody Mary, three times in the bathroom mirror." She said, guilt in her eyes. "She took his eyes, that's what she does."
"That's not why Dad died. This isn't your fault." Donna said, shaking her head.
I glanced back up at Sam and Dean, not really sure where to go from here.
"I think your sister's right, Lily." Dean said with a nod. "There's no way it could have been Bloody Mary. Your dad didn't say it, did he?"
Lily thought for a minute, then shook her head. "No, I don't think so."
After we finished talking to Donna and Lily, we made our way back inside where we eventually we sneaked upstairs. We entered the first bathroom on the right, noticing some blood stains still on the floor.
"The Bloody Mary legend...Dad ever find any evidence that it was a real thing?" Sam asked, looking around the small bathroom.
"Not that I know of." Dean said, shaking his head. He stepped into the bathroom, looking into the mirror for a moment before swinging it open. Sam bent down to inspect the blood on the floor and I stayed in the doorway, watching the steps.
"I mean, everywhere else all over the country, kids will play Bloody Mary, and as far as we know, nobody dies from it." Sam said.
"Yeah, well, maybe everywhere it's just a story, but here it's actually happening." Dean said, looking through the medicine cabinet.
"The place where the legend began?" I asked, peaking my head in the room. Dean shrugged, inspecting a small pill bottle. "But according to the legend, the person who says B-" I paused, seeing the reflection of my face in the open mirror. A chill ran down my spine and I quickly stepped in to close it. Dean shouldn't be going through their things anyway.
"The person who says you know what gets it." I muttered. "But here...?"
"Shoemaker gets it instead, yeah." Dean nodded, looking over at me.
"Right." I said, crossing my arms.
"Never heard anything like that before. Still, the guy did die right in front of the mirror, and the daughter's right. The way the legend goes, you know who scratches your eyes out." Dean said.
"It's worth checking in to." Sam said, standing up.
The three of us exited the bathroom just as Donna's friend from outside walked up the stairs. "What are you doing up here?" She snapped.
"We- we, had to go to the bathroom." Dean said, nodding back to the small room we were just in.
Yeah, we travel in a pack. I thought, lightly elbowing Dean in the ribs.
"Who are you?" She asked, her eyes darting between the three of us.
"Like we said downstairs, we worked with Donna's dad." Dean told her.
"He was a day trader or something. He worked by himself."
Well, shit.
Dean paused for a second, before shaking his head a bit. "No, I know, I meant-"
"And all those weird questions downstairs, what was that?" She asked. "So you tell me what's going on, or I start screaming." She said, crossing her arms.
"We think something happened to Donna's dad." I told her.
"Yeah, a stroke." She said, raising an eyebrow.
"That's not a sign of a typical stroke. We think it might be something else." I said.
"Like what?"
"Honestly? We don't know yet. But we don't want it to happen to anyone else. And that's the truth."
"So, if you're gonna scream, go right ahead." Dean said with a grin. I huffed, rolling my eyes at him.
"Who are you, cops?" She asked.
"Something like that." Dean mumbled.
"I'll tell you what. Here." Sam said, pulling a piece of paper and pen out of his pocket. He scribbled down his cell number and handed her the paper. "If you think of anything, you or your friends notice anything strange, out of the ordinary...just give us a call."
LIBRARY – DAY
"All right, say Bloody Mary really is haunting this town. There's gonna be some sort of proof – like a local woman who died nasty." Dean said, as we moved up to the dark looking library.
"Yeah but a legend this widespread, it's hard. I mean, there's like 50 versions of who she actually is. One story says she's a witch, another says she's a mutilated bride, there's a lot more." I said as we walked into the dim library. It seemed fairly empty for this time of day.
"All right so what are we supposed to be looking for?" Dean asked, looking back at Sam.
"Every version's got a few things in common. It's always a woman named Mary, and she always dies right in front of a mirror. So we've gotta search local newspapers—public records as far back as they go. See if we can find a Mary who fits the bill." Sam shrugged.
"Well that sounds annoying." Dean complained.
"No it won't be so bad, as long as we-" Sam paused, looking over at the computers which all had Out of Order signs on them. He shook his head, chuckling. "I take it back. This will be very annoying."
I sighed and made my way over to the front desk to ask for all of their historical records.
MOTEL ROOM – DAY
Dean and I had opened book scattered everywhere. All over the table, the bed, the dresser, the TV and even on the floor. We'd been reading for so many hours now, that I was starting to lose my mind. Words held absolutely no meaning to me anymore.
"If I have to read another paragraph, I might actually go insane." I mumbled to Dean, trying not to wake Sam – who had passed out on the bed a couple hours ago.
Dean glanced up at me, a small smile on his face. "Maybe you should take a nap, too. That book looks like a very comfortable pillow." He nodded over to Sam, who'd fallen asleep on the book he was reading.
I smiled over at him, shaking my head. "He seems pretty peaceful."
"For now." Dean muttered, looking back down at his book. "How've you been?"
"Fine." I mumbled with a shrug.
"No nausea, no weakness, no dizziness...? Nothing." Dean asked, not looking up from the book in front of him.
I was about to tell him I was fine again, but lying wouldn't do any good. He could see right through me, anyway. "I'm not one hundred percent, Dean. Not yet. But I will be. I've been getting better. I mean, I haven't gotten nauseous since Jericho. And I really haven't felt weak at all. I only get dizzy when I get up too fast." I chuckled lightly, placing a hand on his arm. "I'll be okay."
Dean took a deep breath, finally looking up at me. "Okay. Please tell me if anything gets worse though."
"I will." I smiled at him, running a hand through his hair. "You're such a softie." I muttered with a smirk.
"Uh-huh." Dean mumbled, quickly looking back down at the book as pretended to be interested in it. But I could see the small smile tugging at his lips.
Suddenly Sam started to groan and fidget, just like he always did when he was having a nightmare. I was about to wake him, when he suddenly jolted upright.
Sam glanced back and forth between Dean and I, breathing heavily as he stared at us. "Why'd you let me fall asleep?"
"'Cause I'm an awesome brother." Dean muttered. "So what did you dream about?"
I shook my head, kicking Dean lightly underneath the table. He shrugged, looking back over at Sam.
I know he felt that Sam needed to talk about his nightmares, but there was a certain way to go about things.
"Lollipops and candy canes." Sam replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm. I gave him an apologetic smile as he sat up.
"Yeah, sure." Dean mumbled, throwing me a quick glance before he looked back down at the book in front of him.
"Did you find anything?" Sam asked.
"Oh, besides a whole new level of frustration?" Dean muttered, glancing over at him.
"We've looked at everything. A few local women, a Laura and a Catherine committed suicide in front of a mirror, and a giant mirror fell on a guy named Dave – but no Mary." I said, the annoyance clear in my voice.
"Maybe we just haven't found it yet." Sam suggested, collapsing back on the bed.
"I've also been searching for strange deaths in the area, you know...eyeball bleeding, that sort of thing. There's nothing. Whatever's happening here, maybe it just ain't Mary." Dean said.
I let out a breath, starting to pick up a few books that littered the floor around us. Sam's phone started ringing on the nightstand beside him, vibrating for a few moments as we stared at it. Sam glanced back at Dean and I before picking up the phone.
"Hello?" Sam answered. A split second later a look of concern crossed his face as he stared up at me. "We'll be right there."
PARK – DAY
I looked across the small part, staring over the grass as a few kids ran around. Charlie sat on a bench in front of a big tree, with Dean sitting to her right. I sat down to her left, leaving Sam standing in front of her.
Charlie started sobbing out of nowhere, leaning forward on her knees as she placed her head in her hands. "And they found her on the bathroom floor. And her- her eyes. They were gone."
"I'm sorry." Sam muttered, bending down in front of her.
"And she said it. I heard her say it. But it couldn't be because of that. I'm insane, right?" Charlie mumbled.
"No, you're not insane." I told her, shaking my head.
"Oh God, that makes me feel so much worse." She sobbed again, looking up at me.
"Look. We think something's happening here. Something that can't be explained." Sam said.
"And we're gonna stop it but we could use your help." Dean said, looking down at her as she glanced up at him with curious eyes.
JILL'S ROOM – DAY
I walked into Jill's room with Charlie, looking around the light purple colored room as she went to open the window for Sam and Dean. Sam climbed inside, catching the duffel bag Dean threw to him, setting it down on the bed as he started going through it while Dean came inside.
"What did you tell Jill's mom?" Sam asked.
"Just that Tori was a new friend of ours from school we just needed some time with Jill's pictures and things." Charlie said, getting misty-eyed "I hate lying to her."
"Trust us, this is for the greater good. Hit the lights." Dean said, closing all the curtains.
Charlie turned the light switch off, looking back over at Dean with a raised eyebrow. "What are you guys looking for?"
"We'll let you know as soon as we find it." Dean muttered, going through the bag on the bed.
"Hey, night vision." Sam said, handing me the camera he'd grabbed out of the bag.
"Perfect." I muttered, turning it on as I held it up in front of Dean. A smirk spread across his face as he glanced up at me.
"Do I look like Paris Hilton?"
"Better. You look beautiful, Princess." I smiled, handing the camera back to Sam. Dean chuckled, shaking his head as Sam made his way over to Jill's closet, opening the door. Sam started to film around the long mirror hanging there as Dean, Charlie and I watched on.
"So I don't get it. I mean...the first victim didn't summon Mary, and the second victim did. How's she choosing them?" Sam asked.
"Beats me." Dean shrugged. "I want to know why Jill said it in the first place."
"It's just a joke." Charlie muttered, looking over at us.
"Yeah, well somebody's gonna say it again, it's just a matter of time." I said, letting out a sigh.
Sam walked into the bathroom, calling out to us a few moments later. "Hey. There's a black light in the trunk, right?"
"Uh, yeah." I muttered, glancing over at Dean. "I volunteer you."
"Oh, come on...I don't want to climb back down there." Dean complained, pouting down at me as he glanced back at the window.
"Fine." I huffed, holding my hand out. "Give me the keys."
Dean smirked, dropping the keys in my hand as I walked out of Jill's bedroom.
Sam placed the mirror backside up on Jill's bed, glancing over at me as I turned on the black light. Sam started pealing off the brown paper backing on the mirror as I moved the light over it, stopping when I saw a hand print glowing under the light, followed by sloppily written letters.
"Gary Bryman...?" Charlie read, mostly mumbling to herself.
"You know who that is?" I asked, looking over at her.
"No." She answered, shaking her head.
PARK – DAY
Dean, Charlie and I sat on the bench again, waiting for Sam to get back. After a few minutes of silence, just listening to the birds in the trees we heard Sam approach behind us.
"So, Gary Bryman was an 8-year-old boy. Two years ago he was killed in a hit and run." Sam told us, looking down at Charlie. "The car was described as a black Toyota Camry. But nobody got the plates or saw the driver."
"Oh my God," Charlie gasped, covering her mouth as she looked down in disbelief.
"What?" I asked.
"Jill drove that car." She whispered.
"We need to get back to your friend Donna's house." Dean said, standing quickly
SHOEMAKER HOUSE – DAY
Sam, Dean and I were squished in the small bathroom, leaning over the mirror in Mr. Shoemakers with the black light. It didn't take long to find the same hand print, with another name next to it.
"Linda Shoemaker." I read quietly, glancing between Sam and Dean.
"Why are you asking me this?" Donna asked, her arms folded as she stared at the three of us with narrowed eyes.
We all stood around the small kitchen, just staring at each other. This wasn't something we wanted to have to ask her, but it needed to be done.
"Look, we're sorry, but it's important." I said.
"Yeah. Linda's my mom okay? She overdosed on sleeping pills. It was an accident, and that's it. I think you should leave." Donna said, getting frustrated.
"Now, Donna, just listen." Dean said calmly, looking over at Donna as she let out a huff.
"Get out of my house!" She shouted, turning to run up the stairs.
"Oh my God. Do you really think her dad could've killed her mom?" Charlie asked, looking back over at us.
"Maybe." Sam muttered.
"I think I should stick around." She said, glancing up the stairs.
"All right." Dean nodded. "And whatever you do, don't-"
Charlie shook her head, stopping him. "Believe me, I won't say it."
LIBRARY – DAY
"Wait, wait, wait, you're doing a nationwide search?" Sam asked, raising an eyebrow at Dean as he typed on the computer.
"Yep. The NCIC, the FBI database – at this point any Mary who died in front of a mirror is good enough for me." Dean mumbled, staring at the screen in front of him.
Sam shook his head. "But if she's haunting the town, she should have died in the town."
"I'm telling you there's nothing local, I've checked. So unless you got a better idea-"
"The way Mary's choosing her victims, it seems like there's a pattern." I said.
"I know, I was thinking the same thing." Dean muttered, glancing up at me.
"With mister Shoemaker and Jill's hit and run." Sam mumbled.
"Both had secrets where people died." Dean nodded.
"I mean there's a lot of folklore about mirrors-that they reveal all your lies, all your secrets, that they're a true reflection of your soul, which is why it's bad luck to break them." I said, leaning down on Dean's shoulder.
"Right, right. So maybe if you've got a secret, I mean like a really nasty one where someone died, then Mary sees it, and punishes you for it."
"Whether you're the one that summoned her or not." Sam added.
"Hey, take a look at this." Dean said, pointing to a picture on the screen of a woman lying in a pool of blood next to a mirror. Then he pulled up another picture of a hand print with the letters T-r-e.
"Looks like the same hand print on all the mirrors." I muttered.
"Her name was Mary Worthington – an unsolved murder in Fort Wayne, Indiana." Dean told us, looking back with a shrug. "Worth a shot."
FORT WAYNE, IN
Police agency – DAY
The three of us stood on front of the detective as he let out a small sigh, shaking his head as he recalled what had happened.
"I was on the job for 35 years- detective for most of that. Now everybody packs it in with a few loose ends, but the Mary Worthington murder – that one still gets me."
"What exactly happened?" I asked, looking over at him.
"You three said you were reporters?" He asked, raising an eyebrow as us.
I nodded. "We know Mary was 19, lived by herself. We know she won a few local beauty contests, dreamt of getting out of Indiana, being an actress. And we know the night of March 29th someone broke into her apartment and murdered her – cut out her eyes with a knife."
Just saying it make me feel sick. Who the hell would do that to somebody?
The detective nodded, looking over at me. "That's right."
"See sir, when we asked you what happened, we wanted to know what you think happened." Sam said, looking over at him.
"Technically I'm not supposed to have a copy of this." He said placing an open file down on the desk in front of us. It held the same picture Dean had found on the computer. "Now see that there? T-R-E?"
"Yeah." Dean nodded, staring down at the picture.
"I think Mary was trying to spell out the name of her killer."
I glanced over at the boys, then back to the detective. "You know who it was?"
"Not for sure. But there was a local man, a surgeon – Trevor Sampson." He said, pulling out a picture of a man with dark brown hair. "And I think he cut her up good."
"Now why would he do something like that?" I asked, glancing up at him from the picture.
"Her diary mentioned a man that she was seeing. She called him by his initial, T. Well, her last entry, she was gonna tell T's wife about their affair...and the fact that she was pregnant." The detective told us.
"Yeah, but how do you know it was Sampson who killed her?" Dean asked.
"It's hard to say, but the way her eyes were cut out...it was almost professional."
"But you could never prove it?" I asked.
He shook his head. "No. No prints, no witnesses. He was meticulous."
"Is he still alive?" Dean asked, an eyebrow raised.
"Nope." The detective sighed, sitting down. "If you ask me, Mary spent her last living moments trying to expose this guy's secret. But she never could."
Sam glanced over at me, turning back to the detective. "Where's she buried?"
"She wasn't. She was cremated."
"What about that mirror?" Dean asked, nodding to the picture on the desk. "It's not in some evidence lockup somewhere is it?"
"Ah, no. It was returned to Mary's family a long time ago."
I shared a look with Sam and Dean, glancing back down to the detective in front of us. "You have the names of her family by any chance?"
IMPALA – DAY
We were on our way back to Toledo, the long stretch of highway set out in front of us as Dean sped down it. Sam was on the phone with one of Mary's relatives asking about the mirror.
"Oh really? Ah that's too bad Mr. Worthington. I would have paid a lot for that mirror. Okay, well maybe next time. All right, thanks." Sam said, hanging up.
"So?" Dean asked, glancing at his brother.
"So, that was Mary's brother. The mirror was in the family for years, until he sold it one week ago to a store called Estate Antiques. A store in Toledo."
"So wherever the mirror goes, that's where Mary goes?" Dean muttered.
"Her spirit's definitely tied up with it somehow." Sam shrugged, letting out a sigh.
"Isn't there an old superstition that says mirrors can capture spirits?" Dean asked, glancing back at me in the mirror.
"Yeah, there is." I nodded, looking over at him. "When someone would die in a house people would cover up the mirrors so the ghost wouldn't get trapped."
"So Mary dies in front of a mirror, and it draws in her spirit." Dean nodded.
"Yeah but how could she move through like a hundred different mirrors?" Sam asked, looking back at Dean as his phone started ringing.
"I don't know, but if the mirror is the source, I say we find it and smash it."
"Yeah, I don't know, maybe." Sam said, reaching to answer his phone. "Hello, Charlie?"
MOTEL ROOM – DAY
Charlie sat in the middle of Sam's bed, her head resting on her knees as she rocked back and forth. I sat on the corner of the bed next to her as Sam and Dean covered anything with a reflective surface with sheets or towels. Once they were done, I placed a hand on Charlie's shoulder.
"Hey, hey it's okay. You can open up your eyes, Charlie. It's okay, all right?" She slowly looked up at me, fear in her blue eyes. "Now listen. You're gonna stay right here on this bed, and you're not gonna look at glass, or anything else that has a reflection, okay? And as long as you do that, she cannot get you." I told her with a nod.
"But I can't keep that up forever. I'm gonna die, aren't I?" She asked, her eyes darting all around the room.
"No. No." I told her adamantly, glancing over at Dean as he made his way over to us. "Not anytime soon."
Dean sat on the other corner of the bed, facing her. "All right Charlie. We need to know what happened."
She glanced over at him, shaking her head. "We were in the bathroom. Donna said it."
Dean shook his head, glancing back at me before returning his gaze to Charlie. "That's not what we're talking about. Something happened, didn't it? In your life, a secret...where someone got hurt. Can you tell us about it?"
Charlie looked at each of us, taking a deep breath. "I had this boyfriend. I loved him. But he kind of scared me too, you know?" She asked, looking over at me. I nodded, silently telling her to continue.
"And one night, at his house, we got in this fight. Then I broke up with him, and he got upset, and he said he needed me and he loved me and he said, 'Charlie, if you walk out that door right now, I'm gonna kill myself.' And you know what I said?-"
She paused, looking back over at me. "I said 'Go ahead.' And I left. How could I say that? How could I leave him like that? I just...I didn't believe him, you know? I should have."
She started crying again, putting her head back down on her knees. I shared a look with Sam and Dean, taking a deep breath as I placed a hand on her shoulder.
IMPALA – NIGHT
"You know her boyfriend killing himself, that's not really Charlie's fault." Dean said, looking over at Sam.
"You know as well as I do spirits don't exactly see shades of gray, Dean. Charlie had a secret, someone died, that's good enough for Mary." Sam said.
"I guess." Dean shrugged.
A few minutes of silence passed, the only sound we heard was the rain pouring down on the roof of the car as Dean drove down the road.
"You know, I've been thinking. It might not be enough to just smash that mirror." I mumbled, staring out into the pouring rain.
"Why, what do you mean?" Dean asked, glancing back at me.
"Well Mary's hard to pin down, right? I mean she moves around from mirror to mirror so who's to say that she's not just gonna keep hiding in them forever? So maybe we should try to pin her down, you know, summon her to her mirror and then smash it." I shrugged.
"Well, how do you know that's going to work?"
"I don't, not for sure."
"Well, who's gonna summon her?"
"I will. She'll come after me." Sam said suddenly, glancing back at me.
I sat up straight in the seat, shaking my head. "Sam, no."
"You know what, that's it." Dean said, pulling the car over to the side of the road as he turned to face Sam. "This is about Jessica, isn't it? You think that's your dirty little secret that you killed her somehow? Sam, this has got to stop, man. I mean, the nightmares and calling her name out in the middle of the night- it's gonna kill you."
Sam glanced down, shaking his head as Dean continued. "Now listen to me- It wasn't your fault. If you wanna blame something, then blame the thing that killed her. Or hell, why don't you take a swing at me? I mean I'm the one that dragged you away from her in the first place."
"I don't blame you." Sam muttered.
"Well you shouldn't blame yourself, because there's nothing you could've done." Dean told him.
"I could've warned her." Sam argued.
"About what? You didn't know what was gonna happen! And besides, all of this isn't a secret, I mean we know all about it. It's not gonna work with Mary anyway."
"No you don't."
"We don't what?"
"You don't know all about it. I haven't told you everything."
"What are you talking about?" I asked, leaning forward.
"Well, it wouldn't really be a secret if I told you, would it?" Sam asked, glancing back at me.
"No. I don't like it. It's not gonna happen, forget it." Dean said, shaking his head.
"Dean, that girl back there is going to die unless we do something about it. And you know what? Who knows how many more people are gonna die after that? Now we're doing this. You've got to let me do this."
Dean shook his head. "No."
Sam looked back at me. "Tori, tell him to let me do this."
Dean shot me a look, still shaking his head. My eyes went wide as they both stared at me. I hated when they put me in the middle. "Uh-"
"It'll work, and you know it will, Tori." Sam said, nodding to me.
"You could get killed, Sam!" Dean yelled, glancing back at me. "It's not gonna happen."
I took a small breath, feeling panic rise inside of me. Something about all of this just didn't feel right.
ANTIQUE SHOP – NIGHT
I successfully picked the lock of the big glass doors and opened them, pushing the bobby pin back into my hair as the three of us entered the large building – which was filled with practically nothing but mirrors. My head spun as I looked around. This was almost as bad as being stuck in one of those mirror rooms in a haunted house.
"Well...that's just great." Dean muttered, pulling out the picture of Mary. We all glanced down at the mirror in the picture, trying to memorize it. "All right let's start looking."
The three of us split up as we made our way around the large building. I was walking around, trying desperately to find this thing so we can just get this over with when suddenly, lights started flashing from outside. I saw Sam and Dean across the room and quickly ran over to them.
"Maybe they've already sold it." Dean said, looking around.
"I don't think so." Sam muttered, pointing at a mirror with his flashlight.
Dean pulled the picture out again to compare it to the mirror in front of us. "That's it." He sighed. "You sure about this?"
Sam handed Dean the flashlight, taking a deep breath as he stood in front of Mary's mirror. "Bloody Mary." Sam paused, glancing over at us before looking back to the mirror. "Bloody Mary. Bloody Mary."
I saw more lights flash from outside, looking back over Dean's shoulder as he stared out the windows.
"I'll go check that out." Dean muttered, looking back at the windows. "Stay here, be careful. Smash anything that moves." Dean turned back to me before leaving. "You stay with him."
I quickly nodded, watching him go until he disappeared from my sight. I held the crowbar in my hand a bit tighter as I took a breath. I saw something move in one of the mirrors out of the corner of my eye and quickly smashed it, the glass breaking all over the ground. I heard more glass shatter behind me and turned to see Sam standing over the shards, breathing heavily as he glanced back at me.
Sam moved back in front of Mary's mirror. "Come on. Come into this one."
Moments passed as stared intently at his reflection when I saw blood start trickling out of his eyes. Suddenly, he was on the ground, holding his chest as he gritted his teeth, more the blood now pouring out of his eyes. I quickly ran over, smashing Mary's mirror as Sam gasped for air on the ground.
"Sam?" I bent down next to him, pushing his hair out of his face as he kept his eyes closed. "Sam, are you okay?"
"Sam, Sammy!" Dean yelled out, running up behind us as he knelt down beside me.
"It's Sam." He grumbled, still barely opening his eyes.
Dean glanced over at me before looking back down to his brother, staring down at the blood on his face. "God, are you okay?"
"Uh, yeah." Sam mumbled, with a small nod. Dean and I helped him to his feet, supporting his as we walked through the broken glass on the floor.
"Come on, come on." Dean muttered. We were a few feet away from the broken mirrors when I heard crunching behind us. I glanced over just shoulder just as Mary started crawling out of her broken mirror. The boys noticed me lagging behind and turned around.
Suddenly the three of us were flat on the ground, blood starting to pour out of our eyes. Mary stood in front of us, staring down at us with her head tilted to the side – her stringy black hair hanging over her face. Dean quickly grabbed one of the mirrors leaning next to him and shoved it in Mary's face.
She let out a shriek as her own voice started taunting her. "You killed them! All those people! You killed them!" She started screaming and choking as she coughed up blood, slowly melting into a puddle of blood on the floor in front of us.
I collapsed back on the hard ground, breathing heavily as I stared up at the ceiling.
"Hey-" Dean started. "This has got to be like...what? 600 years of bad luck?"
Sam and I chuckled at his attempt to lighten the mood. I slowly sat up, taking a deep breath as I touched the tacky blood on my cheeks. With a sigh, I stood, helping Sam and Dean to their feet as we finally left the Antique Store.
IMPALA – DAY
I sat in the backseat, behind Dean with Charlie to my right as Dean parked the Impala in front of her house.
"So this is really over?" She asked, looking over at me.
I nodded. "Yeah, it's over."
"Thank you." She said, reaching across the seat to hug me. I smiled up at her as she exited the car.
"Charlie?" Sam called out to her. She turned around and leaned into the open window. "Your boyfriend's death...you really should try to forgive yourself. No matter what you did, you probably couldn't have stopped it. Sometimes bad things just happen."
She had a faint smile on her face, nodding before turning back around to head inside her home.
Dean punched Sam's arm lightly, a small smile on his face. "That's good advice."
A few moments passed as Dean pulled back out onto the road. I looked out the window as Dean drove through the small town.
"Hey Sam?" Dean asked, glancing over at his brother.
"Yeah?"
"Now that this is all over, I want you to tell me what that secret is."
Sam grinned, shaking his head. "Look...you're my brother and I'd die for you, but there are some things I need to keep to myself." He said, looking out the window. Sam stared at something for a few seconds, seemingly getting lost in his thoughts.
I let out a small sigh, leaning back in the seat again. I couldn't imagine what Sam had done. But the fact that he didn't want to tell us was a little unsettling. I wasn't going to push him though, if he wanted to keep it to himself, he wanted to keep it to himself. And that was fine.
But I also knew how damaging it was to keep things like that bottled up. And Dean would get it out of him eventually, I'm sure. He certainly had a way with getting things out of people...at least he did with me.
10 YEARS AGO
I sat on the small uncomfortable couch tucked away in the corner of the room, pulling my knees up to my chest as I stared out the large window through the heavy downpour of rain at the thick line of trees behind the motel we were staying in. John was out on another 'hunt', leaving Dean, Sam and I alone...again. Dean had wanted to go, but John said he needed to do it alone for some reason.
I still wasn't sure I completely understood what they did, the things they told just didn't sink in.
I'd been with the Winchesters for a few weeks now, but most of that time was spent with me curled up in bed. I felt myself slipping away with every passing second, every minute I got angrier and I didn't know how to handle it. The boys were doing the best they could, but let's face it, they had no idea how to deal with me. I barely even know how to deal with myself at this point.
But one thing was for sure, I didn't know how much longer I could spend holed up in small motel rooms just reliving that same night over and over again before I went totally insane.
I heard a throat being cleared behind me, the floor creaking as they rocked back and fourth. I turned around slowly, looking up at Dean as he stood there with a small smile on his face.
"Hey..."
"Hey." I muttered, staring back out the window again. I felt the couch dip at my feet as Dean sat there, staring up at me. I heard a small snore come from the other end of the room as Sam slept quietly in his bed, the book he was reading laying open on his chest.
"How are you?" Dean asked, concern in his eyes. I just shrugged, running out of ways to lie about how I was really feeling. It was strange though, out of all three of them – Dean was the one I felt I could really pour my heart out to. For some reason, he was always able to get things out of me that no one else could.
Not that I did much talking now anyway.
"Wanna talk about anything?" He asked, looking over at me with expectant eyes. I knew he wanted to know what happened that night. He'd told me John was very vague about it, only telling them that I'd been possessed and not much else, which I was thankful for. It wasn't really something I wanted everyone to know. At least not yet, anyway.
But Dean didn't really understand that, though. He didn't get why I didn't want him to know. As far as he was concerned, I should tell him everything – forgetting the fact that I barely even knew him.
I let out a sigh, shaking my head. I didn't bother to look at him, already knowing the sad look he'd be staring back at me with.
A part of me did want to tell him what had happened. I trusted him, I really did. But what if he hated me after I told him? What if he really did think I was a monster? I guess that's really what I was so afraid of...
I looked up into his green eyes. There was a sad there, just like I knew there would be.
"You'll hate me." I whispered, quickly looking down as I played with the ends of my hair.
Dean reached over, tucking a small strand of hair behind my ear. I was a bit taken aback by the gesture. It didn't really seem like something he'd do.
"Tori, I won't hate you. I know that whatever it was that happened...it was out of your control. You didn't do it."
"I didn't stop it either."
"How could you have stopped it?"
I hesitated a bit, letting out a sigh. "I- I don't know."
"Exactly." Dean nodded. "I was just thinking that maybe it might help to talk about at least part of what happened. You don't have to tell me everything yet, if you don't want to."
I took a deep breath, looking up at him. He had a small, encouraging smile on his face as he watched me, waiting for me to speak. I guess he wasn't really giving me the option to clam up and not say anything at all. He was going to sit there and wait until I told him...something.
Like he said, I didn't have to tell him everything...but I ended up doing just that anyway.
And at the end of it all, I was a crying mess as he pulled me into his arms, whispering to me about how it wasn't my fault and how I wasn't the horrible person that I'd told him I thought I was. How it was all gonna be okay and that he was glad I trusted him enough to tell him what happened and he that would always be there for me no matter what.
I had to admit that I did feel a little better, getting it off my chest. But there was still that nagging guilt in the back of my mind that I knew would never leave me no matter how hard I tried to forget it.
In a way, I was okay with that. That guilt let me know that I was still human. If I felt no remorse at all, well, then that would be a problem. That's when I would become a monster.
And I wasn't.
Quick endnote, there was a person who left a review on my last chapter. They weren't signed in, so I can't reply to them in a private message...but you know who you are and I hope you're reading this!
I just wanted to tell you that you were so damn spot on that if I really answer you in any specific way, I'll end up giving everything away lol
I do have to say though, I was a bit unsure about putting Cas in there at first. But I love him so much, I just couldn't wait until I started writing s4 to have him in the story, so I had to let him make a little guest appearance there :)
I really loved all your speculations though. The demon allergy thing was my favorite ;D
Thanks for your awesome review!
