Well, here is another chapter... still looking for more reviews. I have to say thank you to my reviews from the last chapter, CBloom2 and a new reviewer supernatural fan. As an answer to your question CBloom2, yes i am planning on adding Carl into all three seasons.

However, here is where i need your help... i am accepting requests for episodes you want me to do... any episode. I am not sure which ones you would like to read. You can send me your suggestions in a PM or a review... hint. LOL.

I hope to hear from you, but until then... here is the next chapter.

Charlie hunched over closing into herself in a way to find some comfort, sitting next to her Carl and Dean exchange a look over her head. Sam crouched down in front of Charlie trying to look into her eyes. Charlie sobbed into her hands as they slid over her face.

"And they found her on the bathroom floor. And her—her eyes. They were gone." Charlie manages to choke out through her tears. She had phoned Sam an hour ago, howling into the phone. One of her friends had died the same way as Mr Shoemaker.

"I'm sorry." Sam offered sincerely as he reached out to touch her leg comfortingly.

"And she said it." Dean looked up at Sam worriedly. "I heard her say it. But it couldn't be because of that. I'm insane, right?" Charlie exclaimed.

"No, you're not insane." Dean spoke softly.

"Oh God, that makes me feel so much worse."

"Look. We think something's happening here. Something that can't be explained." Carl added keeping his voice low from everyone else in the isolated park.

"And we're gonna stop it but we could use your help."

Charlie hastily pushed the door open, locked it and ran over to the window. Sliding it open, she stepped back. Sam, Dean and Carl jumped into the room, threw their duffel bag on the bed and started riffling through it.

"What did you tell Jill's mom?" Sam inquired curiously.

"Just that I needed some time alone with Jill's pictures and things." Sam pulled something out of the bag and Dean shut the curtains. "I hate lying to her."

"Trust us, this is for the greater good. Hit the lights." Carl muttered from the corner of the room.

Charlie went over to switch off the lights. "What are you guys looking for?"

"We'll let you know as soon as we find it." Dean said looking around at her.

Sam fiddled with the digital camera, and handed it to Dean. "Hey, night vision." Dean took the camera tiredly and turned on the night vision for him. "Perfect."

The digital camera was aimed at Dean, who turned and pouted sexily over his shoulder

"Do I look like Paris Hilton?" Dean quipped.

Sam walked away with the camera, while Carl snorted. He opened Jill's closet door and began filming around the mirror with apprehension.

"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 replied as Sam closed the closet door quietly.

"I want to know why Jill said it in the first place." Carl stated.

"It's just a joke." Charlie offered meekly.

"Yeah well somebody's gonna say it again, it's just a matter of time."

Sam shuffled around the bathroom filming around the mirror when he stopped as he sees trickles of something running out from behind the mirror.

"Hey." Dean and Charlie turned to look at him. "There's a black light in the trunk, right?"

Sam carried the mirror out to Jill's bathroom and laid it on the bed upside down. Dean tossed him a black light. Meanwhile, Carl peeled off the brown paper that covered the back of the mirror. Sam shined the black light over the back of the mirror, to find the words "Gary Bryman."

"Gary Bryman?" Charlie repeated.

"You know who that is?" Sam questioned.

"No."

Outside, Dean and Charlie sat on the old park bench, Sam and Carl came up behind them.

"So, Gary Bryman was an 8-year-old boy. Two years ago he was killed in a hit and run. The car was described as a black Toyota Camry. But nobody got the plates or saw the driver." Sam read of a piece of paper.

"Oh my God." Charlie whispered loudly.

"What?" Carl asked.

"Jill drove that car." Charlie said looking up at Carl.

"We need to get back to your friend Donna's house."

In the bathroom of Donna's house, Sam and Carl hunched over the back of the mirror with a black light. There was a handprint on it, and the words "Linda Shoemaker" scrawled along.

"Linda Shoemaker." Sam muttered.

The four of them made their way downstairs finding Donna at the base of them.

"Why are you asking me this?" Donna glared at them with hurt behind her eyes.

"Look, we're sorry, but it's important."

"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 snapped.

"Now Donna, just listen…" Dean said calmly.

"Get out of my house!" She shouted as she ran upstairs.

"Oh my God. Do you really think her dad could've killed her mom?" Charlie murmured in disbelieve.

"Maybe." Carl responded thoughtfully.

"I think I should stick around." Charlie added as she gestured going upstairs.

"All right. Whatever you do, don't—"

"Believe me, I won't say it." Charlie replied quickly.

--

Dean sat at a computer, frowning slightly, whilst Sam and Carl gazed at some things posted on the bulletin board. Finding nothing to help them, Sam sighed tiredly and glanced at Dean. Intrigued, Sam stood behind him, trying to find out what he was doing.

"Wait, wait, wait, you're doing a nationwide search?" Sam asked with realisation dawning on his face.

"Yep. The NCIC, the FBI database—at this point any Mary who died in front of a mirror is good enough for me."

"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…" Dean trailed off waiting for a reply.

"The way Mary's choosing her victims, it seems like there's a pattern." Carl muttered thoughtfully while sinking onto his bed.

"I know, I was thinking the same thing." Dean answered, turning around in his chair.

"With Mr Shoemaker and Jill's hit and run…"

"Both had secrets where people died." Dean finished.

"Right. 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." Sam said, frustration building as the case got deeper.

"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." Carl replied. Finally they were getting somewhere, he thought.

"Whether you're the one that summoned her or not."

"Take a look at this." A picture of a woman laying by a mirror in a puddle of blood forms on the screen. Dean printed out another picture and handed it to Sam quickly. The picture was of a handprint and the letters "Tre" scrawled roughly on the back of a mirror.

"Looks like the same handprint."

"Her name was Mary Worthington—an unsolved murder in Fort Wayne, Indiana." Dean informed his brothers as he walked to the bathroom.

"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." The old detective looked at the three men with sadness in his eyes.

"What exactly happened?" Dean questioned.

"You boys said you were reporters?" The detective asked, looking at each man in turn.

"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." Sam reeled off hoping he didn't forget anything.

"That's right."

"See sir, when we asked you what happened, we wanted to know what you think happened." Carl inquired looking the aged detective in the eye. The detective hauled some files out of a file cabinet gingerly.

"Technically I'm not supposed to have a copy of this." He opened a file to the picture Dean found on the computer. "Now see that there? T-R-E?"

"Yeah."

"I think Mary was trying to spell out the name of her killer." The detective said with a grimace.

"You know who it was?" Carl asked, surprised.

"Not for sure. But there was a local man, a surgeon-Trevor Sampson." He pulled out a picture of a stern looking man. "And I think her cut her up good."

"Now why would he do something like that?"

"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."

"Yeah but how do you know it was Sampson who killed her?" Dean said trying to be sure.

"It's hard to say, but the way her eyes were cut out…it was almost professional." The man answered with a shudder.

"But you could never prove it?" Dean asked knowingly.

"No. No prints, no witnesses. He was meticulous."

"Is he still alive?" Sam required, staring intently at the man in the photo.

"Nope." He eased down onto the couch and sighed. "If you ask me, Mary spent her last living moments trying to expose this guy's secret. But she never could."

"Where's she buried?"

"She wasn't. She was cremated."

"What about that mirror" Dean nodded at the one in the picture." It's not in some evidence lockup somewhere is it?"

"Ah, no. It was returned to Mary's family a long time ago."

"You have the names of her family by any chance?" Sam asked with fake innocence in his resounding voice.

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