Hello again! 5 day weekend, woo-hoo! You know what that means. Lots and lots of updates, cause I've got oodles of free time.
Next chapter up: Expect lots of big brother caring for little brother, cause I'm a sucker for that stuff.
Disclaimer: Been here, done this. I don't own anything to do with Supernatural, although I do live close to where it's filmed. Go Vancouver!
Chapter Three: Broken Mirror
Dean and Sam raced into the Hannigan house as fast as they could, with Sheriff Ed and his band of slightly pathetic volunteer Roseau policemen hot on their heels. Mrs. Hannigan screamed again, although not as loud, and from that, Sam and Dean were able to discern where in the house she was. They found her in the bathroom, huddled in the corner. She was obviously trying to make herself as small as possible, and trying to hide the fact that she had numerous tiny lacerations all up her pale arms. She was rocking back and forth and murmuring to herself quietly. She truly looked like someone from a mental institution.
"Mrs. Hannigan! Mrs. Hannigan, are you alright?" Dean moved forwards and crouched down beside her. She was clutching something tighly in her hands, and Dean gently prised them apart. When he did, he withdrew his own hands quickly. Mrs. Hannigan had been holding a small shard of broken mirror. And not just holding, but tightly gripping it, as though as soon as she let go of that single mirror piece, her whole life would shatter like the mirror it came from. Dean took the mirror shard from her.
"Are you okay?" Sam repeated. Mrs. Hannigan nodded weakly, but her whole body was trembling like she had just come back from somewhere cold. "Here, let me take you outside. We'll get you cleaned up." He gently took her arm, making sure to avoid all of the cuts and lead her out onto the front porch, where he sat her down in the wooden armchair that sat there. "Do you have a first aid kit?" He asked
"K...Kitchen cab...Cabinet" She lifted a scraped arm and pointed it towards the house. Sam nodded and took off to find the kitchen, which proved relatively easyseeing as it was the first room in the house. There were about four cupboards though, and Sam opened all of them. "Food. No." He shut cupboard one. "Pickled preserves. Ew. No." He shut cupboard two. "First aid. Yes." He removed the first aid kit from cupboard three and was about to close it when something caught his eye. It was a book, a photo album scrapbook kind of thing, and the label on its cover read "Heart Snatcher." Sam took it off the shelf.
Inside the scrapbook were clippings of newspaper articles, printed internet pages, and things of the like. All of them focused on the same subject. The Heart Snatcher. Sam thumbed through the first few pages of the book staring in shock at what was on its pages. There were newspaper pages from the eighties, and addresses. Sam was willing to bet money that the addresses were those of the Heart Snatcher's firstvictims.He glanced down and saw the first aid kit lying discarded on the chipped formica countertop. Remembering his original mission, he pocketed the scrapbook and dashed outside to tend to Mrs. Hannigan.
Meanwhile, Dean was still pacing the bathroom, making it a point to avoid getting Mrs. Hannigan's blood off of the floor and onto his shoes. He looked at the mirror piece in his hand, and then up at the bathroom mirror. It was not broken, only a corner of it had been snapped off. He compared the piece in his hand to the corner. They matched, but there was another piece missing. A bigger piece. Dean scanned the floor, without success. The mirror piece was nowhere to be found.
"Sammy, look at this." Dean went outside and tapped his brother on the shoulder.
The younger finished with the last bandage on Mrs. Hannigan's arm and turned to face Dean. "Mirror." He said simply.
"Yeah mirror, you dunce. Not all of it though. There isa piecemissing."
"Well, where is it?"
"I don't know where, that's why I'm telling you and not just showing you the entire mirror." Dean smacked his brother lightly upside the head. "Think, Sammy."
"It's Sam." Sam said halfheartedly as he and Dean headed back to the car to talk.
Dean leaned against the car and looked around to make sure that no one was in earshot. "What did you find?" He asked his brother.
"You'll never believe it." Sam assured him, smirking slightly.
"Who knows? Maybe if you showed it to me..."
"I was getting to that." Sam reached into his pocket and produced the Heart Snatcher scrapbook that he had found in the Hannigan's kitchen cupboard. "Its a book. A book all about the Heart Snatcher. Mrs. Hannigan has been collecting articles on him since the eighties."
"Good find, Sammy. So, creepyMrs. Hannigan knows about the ghost? This is better than an episode of Scooby Doo."
"Yeah. Should we talk to her?"
"Not yet. We should do some research first. Find out whats really going on.Get some sleep." Dean looked at his brother as he said this. He knew that his brother had not been sleeping well if at allsince Jess was killed.
"We don't need sleep, we need to find this thing, kill it, and then move on to the next town."
"Yes, we do need sleep. Its getting dark anyways. I'll tell that idiot sheriff that we'll be back tomorrow. We'll get some food and a motel room." Dean was almost pleading, that's how much he wanted his little brother to get some rest.
"Fine." Sam gave in, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Thank you." Dean patted his brother's shoulder and went off in search of Sheriff Ed. Sam sullenly opened the car door and sat himself down hard. Dean joined him momentarily.
"The sheriff said that there is a motel and diner in the town center, about five miles west of here. There should be a library there too." Dean said, steering his Impala with one hand.
"Mmm." Sam nodded. Dean shot his baby brother one last concerned glance, and the two drove on in search of the motel in silence.
After about five miles, the two breached civilization. The town of Roseau, Minnesota consisted of a Save-On-Foods, a couple of Shell stations, a McDonalds, a Dairy Queen, a small diner called Daisy's Diner, and then at the end of the town, a motel. It was a very shabby motel, but one that was obviously in Sam and Dean's limited price range.
Dean parked the Impala and he and Sam got out. Then they entered the motel and approached the front desk that was manned by a greasy looking woman. Dean gave her his trademark charming smile, even though she had to be at least 45.
"Hello, Miss." Dean said cheerily. "We were wondering if we could get a room for a few days."
"Why certainly." The woman said, and she smiled herself. it was a rather gruesome smile, though. Very yellow and chipped. "Room 7. Enjoy your stay." She handed Dean a room key, gave him a flirty look,and the two brothersheaded off to room 7.
"I'll go get the food. What do you want?" Dean asked as hethrew himselfdown on the bed closest to the door. "Dibs." He claimed the bed.
"Nothing. I'm not hungry." Sam sat down on his bed and rubbed his face with his hand.
"I don't care. You have to eat."
"I told you, I'm not hungry."
"Cheeseburger it is." Dean hurried off before his brother could say anything.
Dean went through the McDonalds drive-thru and got two cheeseburgers, one for him, and one for Sam.
"Hey, Sammy..." Dean trailed off as he entered the room and saw his brother passed out on the bed. "I'm home." He finished softly. He bent over his brother's bed and pulled the blankets up over him. It seemed that sleep had finally caught up with Samuel Winchester. It had been avoided so long that his body had finally given into exhaustion, and Dean could not have been happier. Dean cared for his brother more than Sam would ever know. Dean could remember one of the last things his mother said to him. "Take care of your brother, Dean." She had said, and Dean always had. He protected Sammy more than himself. He wanted to shield his little brother from every cause of pain in the world, but he had already failed him. Leaving Stanford, Dad leaving, Jessica dying. All of these things had taken a tremendous toll on his brother, and Dean hated it. He hated all of it. He just wanted his Sammy to be safe. To be happy.
Dean looked at his brother again and then settled into his own bed, sighing deeply. He could already tell that sleep would not come easy. It was going to be a long night.
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