Dean heard the water turn on as he muted the TV, part of him wanted to comfort her while another part knew it was better to give her a little space. He couldn't help wishing he could help her, take this from her. He scrubbed his hands over his face. The self-doubt and constant feeling that there was something just on the edge of her understanding must be maddening. More than anything he wished he could just tell her what had happened. Sitting with his hands clasped his elbows resting on his knees, he waited with as much patience as he had in him which to be honest, wasn't very much and never had been.
The hair on the back of his neck raised, his head slowly raised to look at the bathroom door. His gut clenched and his muscles tightened. Something wasn't right and he'd been doing this too long not to trust his instincts.
"Ella are you alright in there?" he called as he reached into his duffle for a sawed-off pump shotgun with its salt rounds, his .45 Colt 1911 still rested comfortingly at the small of his back. "Ella?"
There was no response, the silence hung heavily. There was a distinct feeling he might not be able to handle this one on his own. It was strong enough that he couldn't chance it, not if Ella was in danger and every instinct was screaming that she was. Scooping up her phone he flipped it open to her contacts, Jem's name popped up before Jessi's and he faltered pausing at the door of the bathroom.
The air in front of the bathroom was markedly cold, his breath came out in ghostly white wisps. Immediately trying the handle, he found it wasn't locked, however, it wouldn't open. It was stuck.
Once again he looked down at the phone. More than likely Jem was just down the hallway in his office and while he knew Jessi and he knew her fighting style; he also knew how she'd react in this situation. As likely as it was that Jessi would kick his ass later, the better option might very well be Jem.
When it came to Jessi it was far too likely, with Ella involved, she'd do something stupid and if Dean needed back up it was better to have the older man. He knew Jem could detach himself if necessary in a way that Jessi would never be capable of, particularly when it involved Ella.
"Ella," he called again, his voice raising, pounding on the door with his fist, every muscle was rock hard and tensed, ready for whatever was beyond that door. When yet again she didn't answer, he hit the call button and lifted the phone to his ear. "Ella open the door."
He heard her respond, her voice too low for her to be speaking to him, too low for him to understand what she was saying, but there was disbelief and shock in her tone. The door was cold under the fist that rested against its surface. Glancing back at the door knob Dean found patterns of frost glittering over the brass surface and his heart dropped into his stomach before flying back into his throat.
"What's up Ella?" Jem answered immediately, while a little distractedly.
"Not Ella," Dean replied curtly. "She's currently locked in the bathroom and I can't get in."
"What do you mean you can't get in?" Jem demanded, his attention immediately focused, his voice going almost cold and completely unemotional.
"Well, judging from the ice collecting on the door and the fact I can see my breath I'd say she's locked in there with a ghost, and it's got the door. Get your ass in here."
Dean dropped her phone before he jogged a few steps back and charged the door leading with his shoulder. It didn't so much as budge but he hit it again anyway. The jarring of his shoulder reverberated through his body as he pounded into the door heedless of the pain. His heart picked up as he fought down the panic that was steadily creeping into him, threatening to freeze him.
He couldn't afford to panic, after all it was the whole reason he called Jem over Jessi, but damn it he needed to get into the damn bathroom.
There was a feeling of déjà vu about this, memories of being sixteen and fighting with the door at the farm playing at the edges of his mind. It was everything he could do not to start shooting through the door.
Logically he knew it was stupid, he'd be shooting blind making Ella as much of a target as anything that was just on the other side of the door. Still his mind whispered that a poor chance at survival would better than none.
"No," he hissed, shaking his head. Ella's only chance lay in him getting in there with her, not shooting blindly.
Ella's cry of pain had him fighting viciously with the door knob again before he took a step back and planted his foot directly next to the door knob. To his relief the door frame shuttered and with it came the sound of splintering wood. He followed it immediately with a second kick that had the frame splitting entirely and freeing the door just as Jem came flying into the apartment.
Sparing him barely a momentary glance, Dean turned back to the bathroom to locate Ella. He found her curled into a ball against the wall, tremors visibly racking her body. Glass shards lay around her twinkling in the gathering dusk like the first stars of night. Flipping on the light Dean immediately noticed the broken mirror, from the semi-circle that fanned from the mirror itself into the room it looked as if it had exploded. There was only a single jagged shard left in the frame.
Was it bad luck to further break an already broken mirror? Dean couldn't help wondering as he crunched over the shards, cautiously approaching Ella. Blood was already starting to flow from the cuts on her arms, gently he touched her shoulder as he crouched in front of her. Lowering her arms, she stared at him with confusion and fear warring in her wide eyes, her skin deathly pale while her breathing was rapid. She was in shock and he needed to get her out of the bathroom. He couldn't shake the feeling that they were both being watched.
Lifting her gently into his arms, he noted the small bloody handprint on a piece of the mirror laying on the floor in front of him. His mouth tightened into a fine line, he knew what it was, it was a calling card.
Seven years ago, he'd seen a handprint on the mirror in the bathroom at the Jameson farm. The same small size and the same delicate feminine shape. Tightening his arms around Ella as he turned. He could feel something was lingering there just beyond his reach, just beyond his poor human eyes. Which he hoped meant that left them just beyond whatever it was. Every instinct screamed at him as he turned his back to carry Ella from the room, but it also shielded the woman in his arms from view and offered her the protection of his body.
Crossing to the couch Dean set her carefully down before he sat on the coffee table to assess the damage done. There were cuts and nicks scattered across her skin, most of the damage to her forearms and upper arms, but thankfully the majority of them were shallow. There was one at her hairline that was bleeding profusely. A quick check told him a few butterfly bandages was all it would need. Even the smallest of head wounds tended to bleed like the devil.
It seemed that Ella's arms had taken the brunt of the attack, there were a couple that also would probably need a few butterfly bandages. The worst of it appeared to be a cut that ran from her collar bone to the upper swell of her breast. He could see the glittering of the mirror shard that had cut her shirt when it had embedded itself into her skin.
Turning to ask Jem for a first aid kit he found the older man had stepped inside the bathroom, his eyes undoubtedly fixed on the handprint. Every muscle in Jem's body coiled as his eyes flew to Ella and then to Dean where they shared a look of mutual fear and understanding.
"What's going on?" Ella demanded, her voice barely above a shaky whisper. She cleared her throat, her brain kicking into overdrive as the adrenaline began to pass through her system. Both men looked at her as her eyes darted back and forth between them, a shrewd look sliding onto her face that told them that even in her shaken state she hadn't missed any of their silent exchange.
"Why don't you tell us what happened, and I'll do my best to tell you what I can," Jem replied as he opened the cabinet below the sink and took out Ella's med kit.
Ella heard the calm soothing tone her uncle used, but his eyes betrayed the fact that it was his voice alone that was calm. Had she not been able to read exactly how upset Jem was she would've snapped his head off at the way he was already dancing around the truth, telling her whatever in the hell was going on she wasn't going to get a straight answer. She barely curbed the urge to start pulling at her hair and screaming like a toddler.
For a moment, she was bone weary, exhausted, and so tired of the constant dance she had to perform to maintain this charade with Dean and Jessi, let alone Jem. At least with the first two she understood it wasn't in their control. They physically couldn't answer her but Jem, he had all the answers damn it. For whatever reason he just didn't seem to feel the need to share them. Ella wasn't certain how much longer she'd be able to take it.
As Jem set the kit on the table next to Dean, he regarded her with hooded eyes clearly seeing the irritation in her own. In all honesty he didn't like it either but the game had changed the moment he'd seen the handprint.
This was going to have to be handled with the utmost delicacy, if his Ma got even the slightest whiff of what had happened, it would all be over. Everything he'd been working for would be shut down so fast it would leave all their heads spinning and the girls would lose their chance to get back what had been unfairly taken.
Jem had no illusions, no doubt that if Eleanor heard of this she'd use it as leverage. She already had the family convinced there hadn't been an attack since Rico and his Da. He needed to finish up his research to have complete and absolute proof that Maria had been picking the Jameson's off in the field while Ella had been banned. Every bit of information had to be collected and everything had to be completely solid so that his mother couldn't twist anything to her side. If Eleanor got ahead of him and took the attack to a Conclave her fear mongering could be as effective as it had been the last time. Eleanor was a master at manipulating people.
He sighed as he let Dean open the med kit and riffle through it pulling out antiseptic and butterfly bandages, while he watched Ella unwaveringly, waiting for her to tell him what happened.
"There was something in the mirror," Ella began quietly, but steadily. "It looked like my mother, but it wasn't entirely her either. It was my mother's voice. Even some of her emotion but the way she spoke and the words she was using, it wasn't entirely her."
"You saw Delphine?" Jem asked sharply, his eyes narrowing, this was new information. Was Maria using the soul of Delphine or was she using just her image?
"It was her and it wasn't Jem, I don't know how else to explain it. At first it was as if someone was speaking through her. I honestly thought I was talking to my mother for a moment. It was her voice, her face but it wasn't entirely her. There was something off about it, almost like I was looking at a slightly distorted image and then it was definitely her…" Ella let her voice trail off before it broke as she blinked rapidly to hold back the tears. She wasn't certain what was worse. The odd almost puppet like response at the beginning of her mother's warning or the final portion where it had most certainly been all her mother.
"Damn," she muttered. She'd thought she'd gotten past the lost little girl that had wanted so desperately to please her parents. The girl that had fought to mold herself into whatever form would gain their approval because she knew that no matter what she did they wouldn't ever love her, but she couldn't stop herself from trying. Neither of her parents could've ever loved her if her mother was to be believed.
No matter how old she got, how much she understood Delphine hadn't had it in her to love her child as a mother should, it still hurt. It was a wound that would never entirely heal. She hadn't ever been able to live up to what her mother had wanted her to be. The feeling that she'd been a complete disappointment, almost a failed experiment to her parents would always be a part of her.
Most of the time she could push past it and see it entirely from an intellectual standpoint, with a distant logic that told her the lack was in her parents not herself. However, every now and then that lost hurt little girl still took over.
"What did she say to you Ella?" Jem's voice was soft, understanding, it took everything she had to trap the sob in her chest and blink away the tears. Avoiding Dean's gaze she fought to continue. For a moment, his fingers tangled with hers giving them a brief squeeze, surprising her. Still she refused to look at him unable to bear the thought of his pity.
"She warned me to stay away from hunting, she told me I wasn't strong enough and because of it I would tip the scales dangerously," Ella's voice was bleak. "That was one hundred percent my mother. I know that tone. I know the disappointment and the absolute belief that I was a failure and would never be anything but a failure."
"Ella," Jem growled, his face a picture of pure disgust. "Look at me Ella, no you look at me…"
It took her a moment to raise her eyes and meet her uncle's. She wasn't quite prepared for the fury she saw simmering there.
"You listen to me very closely Ella Jameson. Delphine was a self-righteous bitch. She never did understand what you're capable of and she wouldn't see it now any more than she did then. The only reason she spoke to you was because she could chip away at your self-esteem playing you right into the hands of what controls her."
"And what exactly is that Jem?"
Jem looked away for a moment before looking back at her with regret, "I can't tell you yet Ella, none of us can, but I need you to have faith that I'm working on it. Everything will be explained. It will all be fixed."
"That's not good enough Jem," Ella snapped. "I need this cryptic bullshit to stop, how long do you expect me to survive if you keep me in the dark about what I'm up against. What was in that bathroom was strong, the darkness unlike anything else I've ever felt before, except…"
She trailed off her eyes going distant, for a moment Dean was afraid that she would slip away into another memory, but her gaze remained clear, her brow furrowed in as she fought to remember what was teasing at the edges of her memory.
"Except when Rico died," she said slowly, softly, looking up at Jem with dawning understanding. The flash of standing in a liberally blood splashed bathroom suddenly clearing leaving her with a brief, yet precise memory. "The handprint on the mirror was left by whatever killed him."
"Ella, I need you to just trust me, give me until after the hunt. Once you've passed that test, it will prove I'm right. That Ma is wrong. We prove that and every single one of those doors Ma shut seven years ago will be opened. We prove that everything she warned the family about were nothing more than her own fears."
"How do you know she wasn't right?" Ella demanded picking up Siobhan's journal, her irritation coloring her voice. "Do you recognize this book?"
Jem focused in on it, his eyebrow raising, his expression telling her he recognized it but he just couldn't place it and was confused with what it had to do with the current situation.
"It's great-aunt Siobhan's journal Uncle Jem. On one of her hunts she came across a group of psychic young adults, all twenty-three. They were being targeted by a demon. In my opinion this wasn't just a group of any psychics. The first one of these kids she was too late to save. The girl committed suicide. She did however manage to tell Siobhan before she died that it was a yellow eyed demon and it was looking for the strongest and the best of her generation. Apparently the demon fed her its blood as an infant to strengthen her powers but she believed that he'd tainted her. It was why she killed herself."
"For God's sake Ella!" Dean snapped at her, obviously ignoring the conversation as he tried to patch her up. "Be still!"
"Sorry Dean." She muttered at him, watching her Uncle closely and wishing fervently for her cousin.
Her Uncle raised his brows as he watched Dean's hand shift aside Ella's shirt to clean the wound at her collar bone. His hands were steady, but Jem didn't like seeing them on her. It only served to remind him of the fact that his girls had grown up, and while he enjoyed the benefits of them being adults, he had no interest in even thinking about what else that could mean. Especially considering neither Dean nor Ella appeared particularly uneasy with his hands on her. Jem barely suppressed a shudder as he tried to focus on the subject at hand.
Dean shifted his eyes to Jem as his hand slid partially down Ella's shirt. He wasn't particularly thrilled with the audience, unfortunately it couldn't be helped. Hell, he was the one that had called Jem after all.
There was an itch at the back of Dean's neck leaving him wondering if he should be expecting a bullet at any given moment. It'd be stupid to think Jem wasn't carrying. To his relief, Jem gave him a brief warning look and turned his focus back to Ella.
"I remember more now," Jem replied rubbing the bridge of his nose as if trying to stave off a headache as he tried to follow where Ella was leading him. "Siobhan tried to save the others, but there was only one remaining standing when she got there. The girl had been the sweetheart of her school. Truly a gentle spirit and the demon broke her. Forced to survive by the brutal deaths of those that had challenged her, she'd begun to control spirits and minor demons, Imps really. She could make them kill for her. Siobhan was forced to put her down. There was no coming back from what she'd become."
"This thing pops up and then it's sixty years before it goes under again. He selects his recruits and gives them his blood when they're babies. He then sits back and waits. He starts toying with them making them think they're evil because of his blood. I think he's picking Lost Lines and strengthening the Guardian blood, boosting their powers, but telling them that they are evil, dark, without hope of becoming anything else. At twenty-three he pits them against each other until the last one's standing. Siobhan wasn't able to save any of them. It took a huge toll on her. The demon used the girl as an attack dog, forcing Siobhan to kill the very person she'd been fighting so hard to save."
"Trust me on this Ella, circumstances weren't the same, even if it were, you're not the right age for this. It's something we've been warned about, we know from the signs he resurfaced in '83, but unfortunately we only have where he appeared, we don't know exactly who he picked. It's something we're completely aware of."
"That wasn't my point, everything I read has told me that anyone with my powers go insane, dark, or becomes suicidal and perhaps with good reason."
Ella wiggled as Dean continued brushing her skin as he patched up the cut on her chest. She hadn't realized before exactly how sensitive the area was until now. She was certain her cheeks were flaming and as much as she wanted to slap away Dean's hands, she knew it would only draw attention to how she was feeling. With Jem right there she wasn't certain she wanted him to know anything of what was happening with Dean beyond his agreement to protect her.
"You're neither insane nor dark, as of now," Jem sighed rubbing his hands over his face again, betraying just how frustrated and exhausted her was. "There's a chance that it's only been seen in Guardian's that have gone dark or insane because they either didn't care to hide it, or couldn't hide it. It's something we should monitor, make certain you can use without affecting you, but it may be a talent that was hidden or it could just as easily be something new. After what you've survived it wouldn't be out of the realm of possibility that you've developed new talents. Ones that haven't been seen before."
"What do you mean what I've survived?"
"Just one more thing to put on the list to explain later." His voice was gruff with frustration. "I'm sorry. I wish it could be different."
"Why can't you tell me?" Ella cried. "If there isn't something wrong with me, why can't you tell me what's going on? Why have Jessi and Dean been bound from talking about the past? I'm fighting here with all the cards stacked against me."
"I know and I don't like it any more than you do, but this has to be handled delicately Ella. I'm doing everything I can to help you, you've got to believe that. If I don't watch my step very carefully on this, the consequences could be disastrous for the Guardians, all of them Ella. Each and every one of them."
Ella studied her uncle, his gaze earnest, he could be an incredible liar, an actor worthy of an Academy Award if necessary, but her gut was telling her he meant every word. Weighing her options she came to the conclusion that there was nothing she could do. She couldn't be certain she could rely on her uncle one hundred percent. At that moment though her only option was to be patient, leaving her with the only other option of offering a reluctant nod of agreement before she set the journal back on the table next to Dean.
Dean growled at her irritably, mumbling under his breath as he attempted to clean the cut running down her chest.
"You should read the pages I marked," Ella told him stiffly. "According to this Azazel's death match between the psychics happens every fifty years and you said yourself he resurfaced in '83 which means we have a little over 5 years before he starts the cycle all over again."
"Maybe I will, but right now, I'm concerned about you." Jem told her, patting her head in a rare show of affection.
The door flew open, Jessi barely made it through it on her feet, her knife drawn and a look of terror and hatred on her face. The three in the room startled their eyes flying to watch as Jessi stumbled into the apartment, her normal natural grace completely deserting her.
"Where is it? What's going on? Are you okay, Ella?" The words tumbled out of her mouth haphazardly and on top of each other, the fear foremost in her tone.
"You're a little late to the party," Ella said with a wry smile.
"Damn it, I got here as soon as I could."
"I know," Ella replied softly with a tired sigh.
Jessi scanned the situation, as she slid to a stop a few feet from her uncle. She hadn't been able to break away from the bar any sooner, but she'd felt Ella's terror as though it were her own. It had taken everything she had to stay focused on what she'd been doing and not cause a scene downstairs until she could break away.
Sheathing her knife with shaking hands as she came to the conclusion whatever had been here, was gone.
"What happened, what did I miss?" Jessi muttered with barely suppressed anger and terror, "Jesus, Ella, your sliced to pieces!"
"There was an incident in the bathroom." Dean muttered turning his attention back to carefully bandaging the cut near Ella's collar bone.
"Yeah, Freddie Krueger made an appearance."
"Bathroom!" Jessi screeched, her tone causing all of them to wince.
"Breath, Jessi." Jem said moving towards her, his eyes warning her.
"Why is the bathroom a trigger for you?" Ella asked looking from her cousin to her Uncle and then sighing, knowing it was yet one more question none of them could or would, in her Uncle's case, answer.
"Shit." Jessi muttered, the gag order constricting her throat as she fought to answer her cousin, the despair and fear in Ella's eyes too much for her to ignore.
Ella met Jessi's eyes, watched her cousin swallow convulsively and her eyes fill with tears. It was all just too much. In a rare show of temper Ella pushed Dean irritably as she got to her feet, swaying for a moment. Dean grabbed her arm to steady her and had Ella turning her anger on him.
"Stop it, I'm fine, perfectly fucking fine!" She hissed before stomping towards her bedroom, leaving all of them staring after her in shock.
It was too much, it was all too much. The infuriating feeling of helplessness only fueled her impotent fury leaving her slamming her bedroom door hard enough to have the walls rattling in an attempt to alleviate some of it.
"Everyone keep Ella in the dark, she's too weak and useless to handle the truth," she hissed to the empty room as she strode to the windows to stare into the darkness.
The sky was partially clouded, the full moon half hidden, yet still lighting up the darkness in the street below, stars winked from the clear portions. Her breath fogged the window and she had to fight the urge to put her fist through the glass; to channel her fear, confusion, anger and pain into something tangible, something she could focus on.
She'd spent so long following orders, doing what was asked, but tonight, tonight she could've died. What's more the need to end the creature in the mirror was overwhelming. Not just because it had attacked her but because of the others she'd felt.
It'd almost been as if she were channeling Jessi's powers. She'd been overwhelmed by the emotions both her own and others. Whatever that thing in the mirror was it wasn't a shape shifter. It had her mother's soul, she could feel it and she knew it. It wasn't something she could explain, but then trusting instincts that couldn't be explained wasn't something any Guardian would scoff at.
Running her fingers through her hair she paced. Historically the best way to trap a soul was to kill it which made her wonder how many other souls were trapped, however many it was, they'd been used as a weapon, it hadn't been fear of the unknown creature that had paralyzed Ella, it'd been the projection of their pain. Combined with the sense of keen disappointment and failure of her mother it'd left Ella fumbling in the darkness. Underlying the veritable sea of emotions had been rage and hatred, a kind that she couldn't even begin to understand what she'd done in her relatively short life to inspire.
The sound of Jem and Jessi's voices cut through her churning thoughts, she could hear the anger and frustration that mirrored her own in her cousin's voice. Tilting her head, she listened, inspiration suddenly striking. Dean and Jessi couldn't tell her anything, but that didn't mean they couldn't tell Jem. Would the spell work if they weren't focusing on her, if they didn't know she was there? It couldn't hurt to test it out and perhaps they'd let something slip that would give her the ability to figure out what the hell had happened on her own.