Welcome to the Club
I choose to steal what you chose to show
And you know I will not apologize
You're mine for the taking
I'm making a career of evil
Career of Evil, Blue Oyster Cult
"Very funny," Kole told Dean. "The only problem with the theory is that a Mara usually produces a feeling of breathlessness or suffocation. The victim is left with sleep paralysis and can't move right when they wake up. Obviously, that isn't the case here."
"Wait," Sam said, "I thought that sleep paralysis was supposed to be the work of The Old Hag. Isn't it called Old Hag Syndrome, or Old Hag Attack, or something?"
"Well," Kole started, "The Old Hag is akin to the Mara. Victims of The Old Hag suffer from sleep paralysis, and in many cases have hallucinations. Some are only auditory, some include visual. Some people claim to have actually seen a demon-faced woman and had her speak to them."
"I don't remember seeing any demon-chick," Dean smirked.
"You know…" Kole said, as she stood up and left for her own room. Dean and Sam were left to look at one another until she re-entered with her own laptop.
"You know," she repeated, "I think we might be on to something, but I can't quite see the connection. The Old Hag," she paused while continuing to type on her laptop. When she found what she was looking for, she sat back and looked up at the waiting Winchesters. "The Old Hag has appeared to countless people in nearly every culture. But, in all the stories I have ever read or heard, her intent is always to steal either the soul or the breath of her prey."
"No," Dean said, starting to see the correlation, "I get it. She steals the soul or breath of her prey? In this case, she's being passive-aggressive." He smiled, expecting both Sam and Kole to understand. Kole narrowed her eyes, but after a moment Sam picked up the line of thought.
"Steals the breath by getting the victim to kill him or herself… Steals the soul by getting the victim to kill someone else."
"Exactly," Dean said with triumph.
"Isn't that sort of a round-a-bout way for a demon to get its kicks?" Kole asked.
"Hey," Dean said, "I don't want to analyze what goes through a demon's brain, if it even has a brain… I just want to know what it is and how to kill it."
Dean walked over to his duffle bag and began looking through it. After tossing a couple T-shirts aside, he stood up again and took his shirt off.
"Dean…" Sam said uneasily and glanced at Kole, who was sliding from her chair in an attempt to leave the room without notice. Sam and his brother were used to changing their clothes in the middle of the room, but Sam couldn't believe that Dean seemed to forget that Kole was present.
"What? We need to clean these burns before they get infected," Dean said plainly. "You're the one with the tank tops," he told Sam. "Why don't let Kole borrow one?"
"Why would I need to borrow Sam's shirt?" Kole asked, confused.
"Because I figured you might not want to sit here topless," Dean smirked. When Kole still didn't understand, he asked, "How's your neck?"
"What about my…" Kole started as she reached up to her neck instinctively. When she touched the spot that was burned, she gasped in shock and pain. She stared wide-eyed at Dean.
"Yeah," Dean arched an eyebrow, "you'll probably have some on your hands and arms, too. I hope those liquid stitches aren't flammable."
"Here," Sam handed a clean tank top to Kole. "We can get that burned cleaned up if you want to come back in here once you're changed."
Kole nodded and took the tank top. She walked through the adjoining door and returned within seconds, clearly having switched shirts with the door still open. She pulled her hair back into a pony tail while she walked across the room to the large mirror outside of the boys' bathroom and stood next to Dean.
Sam watched as they each inspect their own arms, looking for possible burns. He shook his head slightly in amusement, thinking once again how similar they were. Then, just as quickly he frowned, realizing that the thought was a scary one.
"Here you go," he said, pulling a chair up to the mirror so that Kole could sit while he cleaned the burn on her neck. She was actually short enough that he could have completed the task while she stood, but under the unforgiving lights surrounding the vanity, he could really see how beaten up she looked. He mentally commended the coffee shop waiter for trying to stick up for Kole to Dean and himself.
Most of the burns on Dean and Kole's arms were minor, very few needing anything other than a good cleaning. Once Dean had finished putting the anti-biotic on his last burn, the one that needed a large bandage, he had to ask Sam to stop and help, as he couldn't stick the bandage on himself. As he stepped back and held out his arm for Sam, Dean happened to glance at Kole's back.
"What this?" he asked with another eyebrow arch. Had the tank top fit properly, it would have been hidden, but since Sam was much taller than Kole, she had to pull the front of the shirt up to keep from exposing her bra, so the back of the shirt hung lower than normal.
Kole looked up at him through the mirror and Sam's eyes followed where Dean was pointing. Or rather, at first he merely pointed. Now, he ran his finger down her back slightly and lowered the back of the tank top further to reveal her back between her shoulder blades.
"You have a tattoo?" Sam asked wide-eyed in disbelief, before he could stop himself by sounding like a child. Dean let out a quick laugh, though whether it was due to Sam's reaction or the idea that Kole had a tattoo was unclear. Kole rolled her eyes at both of them through the mirror.
"You know," she grinned, "I did have a life before the two of you crashed my class."
The boys weren't listening; they were busy looking at the ink on her back. It consisted of three sets of symbols in a vertical line between her shoulder blades. It was only a few inches long, maybe an inch wide.
"What does it mean?" Sam asked.
"The middle one is strength, right?" Dean asked.
"Very good," she smiled. "Kenkou, Tsuyosa, Shugo. Health, Strength, Protection."
"When did you get it?" Sam asked again while he bandaged his brother's arm.
"My first year of college. My boyfriend's idea."
"Tommy?" Dean asked.
"George," Kole told him, trying to mask the surprise at the mention of Tommy's name. "My roommate and I dated twin brothers. George and Geoffrey," she said with a small laugh. "The three of them were away from home, away from their parents for the first time in their lives and were making the most of it. They were all drunk, underage, when we all stumbled across the tattoo parlor."
"You were drunk?" Dean smirked.
"No, but I had gone without sleep for nearly a week and was starting to hallucinate, so I wasn't much better off than the rest of them." She sighed, remembering the night. "Geoff and Lisa each got a heart with the other's name in it. Of course, they broke up a week later. George wanted us to do the same, but I convinced him to find something different. I told him that people might look at him funny if he had the name 'Kole' on his arm.
"It was the night before winter break officially started. The rest of them went home for the holidays. Your father came to visit. He was pretty upset. He told me that I better get that roommate of mine to help clean it so it doesn't get infected," she imitated John's angry voice. "He did say that he was glad I got something practical and not something girlie." She smiled to herself again as Sam finished bandaging her neck.
Dean smiled at the idea of Dad finding the tattoo. He could picture the reaction, angry but proud. Sam, on the other hand, was a little dejected. Their cousin, step-cousin, seemed to have more fond fatherly memoriesof his dad than he did.
"So," Kole said, snapping Sam out of his reverie, "what's the next step?"
"Next step?" Dean asked, pulling a clean T-shirt over his head.
"Well, yeah," she said, turning around in her chair. "We only have the vaguest of ideas of what's going on. Don't we need to get more answers before we know how to stop this thing?"
"We?" Dean eyed her curiously.
"Well," Sam interrupted, "there was one place in town that a lot of people told me I should check out. Seems the owner has lived here the longest and knows the most about everyone and everything that goes on. The place was closed earlier, but it should be open now," he said as he checked his watch. "Good thing, too. It's a diner, and it's lunchtime."