Courtney

She woke with a lazy haze over her, the thick taste of sleep in her mouth along with Hollister.

"Did I lick Sam or something?" she wondered as she smacked her lips together. She pushed herself up onto her elbows to look the room over. Sam still slept by her, his back to her as he breathed slowly. She looked over to the other bed expecting to find charlie sleeping next to Dean but only finding him. She raised an eyebrow and looked the room over again, holding in a laugh as she found Charlie sleeping against the wall across from the beds. She was face down on the carpet with the pillow a few inches away from her head while the blanket was tangled in her legs.

"She's going to be sore," she thought with a chuckle. With a deep intake of breath she pulled herself out of bed, grabbed her bag and walked to the bathroom.

S-D-C

Dean jumped awake when he heard the loudly cursed "Shit!" from the other side of the room. He lifted himself up and inspected the room only to find Charlie sleeping on the floor across from the bed. She was sitting up in a hunched over position, both hands pressing against the small of her back with a grimace on her face.

"God dammit," she said, her fingers moving to ease the ache in her back.

"You okay?" he asked, his voice still thick from the great nights sleep he had attained due to the wonderful mattress Charlie had paid for.

She looked over at him, the pain still on her face. "Do you know how long it's been since I've slept on the floor?" she questioned him with a raised eyebrow.

He shook his head. "No, but I bet you're going to tell-"

"Two years," she told him. "And do you know why I haven't slept on the floor in two years?"

He opened his mouth to answer but didn't get to speak.

"Because we always stay at nice hotels that have plenty of rooms with nice soft beds and nice clean sheets that smell like sunshine and dewy meadows," she answered with an annoyed voice. "But I found myself on the floor with carpet that has a questionable history and an ache in my back that feels like an angry dwarf throwing a temper tantrum."

Dean had to keep his lips pressed together tight to keep from smiling at that last one. Where she came up with this stuff he'll never know.

"Why am I sleeping on the floor, Dean?" she demanded, pointing to the carpet below her.

"You're sleeping on the floor because you're too stubborn to sleep with me," he answered, a smirk on his lips. "And I have to tell you that I haven't slept that well in a long time," he told her, stretching his arms out in mock. "The mattress was so soft and the pillows were fluffy and you know what? You're right. The sheets do smell like sunshine and dewy meadow."

~ Magical Supernatural Time Skip~

The rest of the morning had gone smoothly, a slight argument here and there between Dean and Charlie. They had dressed in their Sunday Best, got breakfast and played straws to decide who had to do what. The waitress laughed as we made her hold the straws for us, telling us that we weren't the first people to make her do this. By Fates cruel hand Dean and Charlie ended up paired together to go to the Morgue while Sam and Courtney were destined to talk to the relatives.

"Make sure that you bring your buddy back with you," Courtney said with a smile. "Because if only one of you comes back that defeats the purpose of the Buddy System."

Charlie rolled her eyes. "Please, there wouldn't be a body to leave," she said walking towards the Impala before stopping. "Wait, you guys should take the Impala," she told Courtney and Sam. "Roy is a little too intense for the grieving relatives."

Sam nodded. "Good thinking. That alright, Dean?"

His brother grunted. "Just as long as you drive," he told him, tossing his keys.

"See you in a few hours."

C-S

"We're sorry to keep hounding you but our company is very careful with cases like this," Courtney told the victim's wife as she grew more teary eyed.

The woman nodded. "Okay."

"Why don't you tell us what happened," Sam suggested from his spot on the couch.

The woman took a deep breath before starting. "We were outside at one of those bestro things having dinner," she began. "We had just ordered desert when he started to scream. He knocked the table over and ran off," she told them with a sniff. "He came back home a few hours later saying that he had a migraine and that he was going to bed early. I stayed up to finish some work and I..." she trailed off, shaking her head. "When I went to bed I thought he was just sleeping but when I woke up the next morning he was-" she broke off with a sob.

Courtney got up and wrapped her arm around the woman's shoulder in a comforting way.

D-C

"What's the C.O.D.?" Charlie asked as they followed the Coroner into the chilled room.

"Well, I don't really know," he answered. "Eardrums were completely shredded and there was trauma to the brain but nothing that would have killed him," he explained, walking over to the wall of metal cabinets, opening one and pulling the shelf out to show the body. He pulled the sheet back and both were surprised.

"No autopsy?" Dean asked, looking at the unmarked skin of his chest.

"Wife didn't want one," he answered. "Something about religion."

Charlie saw her widow of opportunity. With a sigh she took a step forward and looked him straight in the eye. "We have a reason to believe that there was foul play in this man's death and the wife is a suspect. We need you to do an autopsy," she told him with her best fed tone.

The Coroner's eyes widened and he nodded quickly. "Yes, of coarse," she said before shuffling over to another table to get what he needed.

"Foul play?" Dean whispered to her with a small smirk.

She shrugged and smiled back. "I didn't hear you say anything," she whispered back.

"You ready for this?" the Coroner asked, hovering the scalpel over the body.

"Yep," they both said.

He let out a sigh and sliced the skin open.

All three jumped when blood shot into the air, showering them all with crimson liquid.

Dean let out a groan. "Ah, come on," he grunted, stepping back to look down at himself.

Charlie swallowed hard and stared down at the body. The blood wasn't crimson to her eyes, it was black. The veins were a pitch black against the pink flesh of the body.

If you ever hear the Banshee's cry, your blood will be the next to fly.

The old song flouted through her head as the image of the blood flying replayed itself in her mind. She didn't actually think that the blood would fly.

"You okay there, Agent?" the Coroner asked, looking over at her with a raised eyebrow.

She nodded slowly and let out a small laugh. "Yeah, just have a Blade moment," she lied, getting blank looks from the two. "The movie Blade? Vampires? The night club that has blood in it's sprinkling system?" she asked, trying to jog whatever memory there would be to jog.

They shook their heads.

She let out a disappointed sigh. "You're hopeless," she said before reaching up and whipping her face off the best she could. "Keep going."

C-S

"Well, that was a bust," Courtney stated when they climbed into the Impala.

"I wonder if Dean and Charlie found something," Sam said, pulling out his phone. He hit speed dial 1 and waited.

"Please tell me you've got something," Dean's voice said from the other side of the phone with an annoyed voice.

Sam sighed and dropped his head back against the seat rest. "No, just a lot of crying and repeat of what we already knew," he told him. "What happened to you?"

Dean let out a sigh of his own. "We got a blood bath from the corps, literally."

"A blood bath?" Sam asked. "What do you mean by-"

"Cut into the corps and his blood went everywhere. Drenched everyone. Charlie looks like she went at someone with a chainsaw," he said with a smile in his voice.

"I'll go at you with a chainsaw!" Charlie yelled from the background.

Courtney chuckled when she heard her. "Dead mans blood, Charlie!" she yelled. "Dead mans blood!"

"Shut up!"

Sam chuckled and glanced over at Courtney. "You wanna meet back at the motel?"

"No! Meet at the crime scene!" Charlie yelled.

Sam pulled the phone away from his ear. "Alright, meet you there," he said before hanging up. "They're getting along fine," he said with sarcasm.

Courtney chuckled happily. "Just wait, they'll be getting along like you and me," she said, reaching over to nudge him.

"Aren't you secretly planning to kill me in my sleep?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

Courtney rolled her eyes. "I'm sorry about the pillow. I get homicidal in my sleep," she defended.

D-C

"Why are we here?" Dean asked, leaning back in the passengers seat.

"Keep complaining and you're walking," Charlie told him, popping her neck at an awkward angle.

Dean winced when snaps and cracks filled the cab of the car. He perked up when he heard the Impala. He got out of Roy and looked his baby over.

"We didn't hurt your baby, Dean," Courtney said as she got out.

"Yeah, man, chill," Sam said, tossing the keys to his brother.

Dean rolled his eyes and tucked the keys into his leather jacket.

"Are we going in here or what?" Charlie asked, already standing on the porch.

Dean glared but headed up the walk anyway.

Charlie quickly picked the lock and stepped in under the police tape. She looked around the house but didn't see anything out of the ordinary. She found the stairs and jogged up, taking two at a time as she went. She passed all the guest rooms and the offices of the people that used to own the house, ignoring the boringness of the room as she went. She paused when she saw the master bedroom. French doors hanging slightly ajar as she looked at them. With a slow hands she reached out and pushed the doors the rest of the way open. What she saw scared the shit out of her. A giant blood stain was puddled on the side where the husband had slept; the blood black like it had been in the morgue. The giant bay window that was above the bed was cracked, a web of broken glass replacing the clear glass. But what scared her the most was the cracks that littered the walls. On all four walls, deep cracks shot towards the bed, all looking like stress marks.

"Why is the wife selling this place again?" Dean asked as they came up the stairs.

Courtney let out a sigh. "Because, Dean, her husband died here," she answered. "Would you want to come home to a house that you knew someone had died in?"

Dean let out a snort. "Hell no. The ghost could come back."

"Yeah, well, besides that. There's too many memories for her here," Courtney told him. "She would have to deal with knowing that she slept next to her dead husband for most of the night."

"That is gross," Dean muttered before stopping in the doorway of the bedroom. He let out a low whistle. "He died bloody," he stated.

Charlie looked over her shoulder to shoot him a glare. "A little respect, please?" she asked with a hard tone.

Dean's eyebrows shot up and he held his hands up in defense. "Sorry, didn't know you cared so much."

Charlie rolled her eyes and looked back to the walls. "Cracks," she said softly.

Courtney leaned closer to her with a raised eyebrow. "In the window?" she asked.

She shook her head. "No, on the walls."

Courtney looked the room over but found no cracks on the wall, only perfect green paint. She told Charlie this and got a small sigh from her sister.

"It must be an effect from the Banshee," she whispered, keeping an eye on the guys as they looked the room over. "The cry must put a pressure on everything that's near her."

"Then why didn't the wife hear it?"

"Only the victim can hear the scream," Charlie reminded her. "She wouldn't wake up from dry wall cracking."

Courtney nodded in consent. "That makes sense."

"I don't see anything out of the ordinary," Sam stated, his expert eyes checking the room one more time.

"Isn't that the point?" Charlie asked quietly. "That nothing we do looks ordinary."

OMG! Can anyone say lazy? I've had this written for weeks and I never got around to posting it like a good little writer.

I hope you like it and aren't too disappointed with me. I've actually been struggling with it so this little hunt might suck a little but I'll try my hardest!

See you in the dark,

Alya Kihaku + Shiri Mizuki O.o