S1 EP7 HOOK MAN
Two weeks after skin dude and Dean's "funeral" since the skin walker decided to take his appearance they were finally far enough away to be recognized or for Dean to be. But that's where lies worked because Dean was dead…technically. Yet he sat across from her at the table in the coffee shop working on the laptop while she read her book.
Sam came back in from talking on the pay phone and sat down with them. Dean pointed at his coffee, "Your, uh, half caf, double vanilla latte is getting cold here, Francis."
"Bite me," he retorted.
"Anything on John?" Bridget asked.
Sam shook his head. "I had them check the FBI Missing Persons , no John Doe fitting his description. I even ran his plates for traffic violations. Not a thing."
"Sam, I'm telling you, I don't think Dad wants to be found," Dean said. "Check this out though," he turned the computer around so they could see the article. It's a news piece from Ankeny, Iowa. Its about a hundred miles from here."
Sam read from it, "The mutilated body was found near the victim's car, parked on 9 Mile Road."
"Keep reading."
"Authorities are unable to provide a realistic description of the killer. The sole eyewitness, whose name has been withheld, is quoted as saying the attacker was invisible."
"Could be something interesting?" Dean said.
"Or it could be nothing at all," Bridget said drinking her caramel macchiato. "Could be a freaked out witness who didn't see anything. I mean, an invisible man?"
"But what if it is?"
Bridget shrugged. "We got nothing else going for us, might as well," she said and they packed up heading to the car.
Bridget's eyes widened as they pulled up in front of the frat house. She spun her head to Dean, her hair flying in her face, bangs falling in her eyes. "Tell me why we're here?"
"The victim lived here," he said.
"A frat house," she hissed and got out of the car feeling the eyes on her. She was very aware of them taking her in since she wore her usual denim skirt and black below the knee boots this time with a boat neck black top and a spaghetti strap black top under it. They went upstairs to the room the victim shared with a guy who was currently painting himself purple in front of a mirror. Must have been game day, she was guessing remembering her college days.
"Who are you?"
"Friends," Dean said to a shirtless frat boy.
"Oh, could you help me paint my back? It's game day?" he asked holding the paint can out.
Dean handed it to Sam, "He'll do it, he's great at art."
Sam sent him a withering look but took the paint bucket.
"So is it true?" Bridget asked, sounding dingy and clueless, popping her gum. "Did a guy get like killed here last week?"
"Yeah," the guy nodded.
"What happened?" Sam asked.
"They're saying some psycho with a knife. Maybe a drifter. Rich was a good guy."
"Wasn't he dating somebody?" Sam asked again.
"Not just somebody," he snorted. "Lori Sorenson."
"Who's Lori?" Bridget questioned.
"Lori's a freshman. She's super hot," he looked Bridget over. "Not that you don't give her a run for her money though. She's the reverends daughter."
"Which church?" Dean asked.
Bridget stared at the church, she shook her head as they went inside to hear the end of the sermon. This was not her day with this outfit. She was seriously going to have to start wearing jeans or swap her knee highs for her mid calf highs because this was ridiculous. They approached the front of the church where a plain jane girl stood in a blouse with a green vest over it. Definitely the reverends daughter type.
"Are you Lori?" Sam asked her.
"Yes," she nodded.
"My name is Sam, this is my brother Dean and our friend Bridget," he introduced them.
"We just transferred here," Bridget said.
"We heard about what happened and…"
"We wanted to say we were sorry," said Dean.
Bridget smiled sadly. "I know what you're going through…I saw someone get hurt once…" she touched the ring on her necklace. "It's not something you forget easily."
The reverend walked up then and Lori tucked her hair behind her ear. "Dad, this is, um, Sam, Dean, and Bridget. They're new students."
"Great sermon today," Dean told him.
"Thank you," he said. "It's so nice to find young people who are open to the Lord's message."
Dean glanced at them and moved with the Reverend to give them time to talk to her, "So um, were new in town and looking for a church group."
"Tell me, Lori, what did the police say?" Sam asked once her dad was out of earshot.
"Well they don't have a lot to go on," she said. "They blame me for that I think."
"What do you mean?" Sam asked.
"My story. I was so scared I was seeing things."
"That doesn't mean it wasn't real," Bridget told her and Lori looked at her for a moment. She saw Dean coming back with the Reverend. "It doesn't mean you were seeing things."
"So you guys believe her?" Dean asked as they sat in the library now.
Bridget nodded her head, "Uh huh."
"I do," Sam agreed.
"Yeah, I think she's hot, too."
"Dean, anything with a pulse and of the female gender turns you on," Bridget reminded him.
"Are you jealous?" he wiggled his eyebrows.
"Oh so very," she mumbled, reading through some articles.
"There was something in her eyes," Sam said. "And she heard scratching on the roof. Found the bloody body suspended upside down over the car."
Bridget's head shot up and she grabbed her carry bag that she stuffed her drawing pad in.
"Wait," Dean said. "That sounds like…"
"The Hook Man legend," Sam filled in.
"That's one of the most famous urban legends ever," Dean said.
"Every urban legend has a source."
Bridget found the drawing she was looking for. "Did the car have a scratch mark on the side? And were the tires scratched out?"
"Yeah," Sam nodded.
"Was it on an empty road…with trees and was it a Honda, dark red?"
"Yeah…how'd you know?"
Bridget slid her sketch pad across to him, "I drew that weeks ago."
Dean frowned looking it over, it was identical to the car down to the detail. "Bridge, how'd you do this?"
She ran her fingers through her hair, chewing her lower lip. "It just came to me. I just drew it," she lied a little.
"You drew the future?" Dean asked.
She shrugged, "I can't tell it's going to happen…I just get snippet dreams and I draw them sometimes and sometimes…I come across them."
Sam looked at her, "How long have you been doing this?"
"Long as I can remember," she shrugged.
"You never told me," Dean said.
"Why do you think my eyes bled during our Mary search?"
He pushed it back to her, "From now on, don't hide this."
"I can't tell what's a dream and what's not Dean and I can't stop any of it. It's just a flash and that's it, it pretty much tells me I'm going in the right direction and that's that."
"So we were supposed to come here?" he asked.
She shrugged, "Maybe. I don't know."
Sam was oddly quiet during everything, staring at Bridget. She had dreams too…and she had known he did but never said anything, never let him know the truth.
The librarian dropped off a huge box onto their table."Here you go. Arrest records dating back to 1851."
Dean blew at the box, coughing as the cloud of dust flew up in the air. "Thanks."
"Ok," she walked away leaving them to their work.
Dean opened the box, "So this is how you college people spent your time?"
"Welcome to higher education," Sam told him. After an hour of reading through papers after papers Sam tapped Dean's shoulder and Bridget leaned over to see what he had. "Hey, check this out. 1862. A preacher named Jacob Karns was arrested for murder. Looks like he was so angry over the red light district in town that one night he killed 13 prostitutes. Uh, right here, "some of the deceased were found in their bed, sheets soaked with blood. Others suspended upside down from the limbs of trees as a warning against sins of the flesh."
Bridget skimmed through another page, "Get this, the murder weapon. Looks like the preacher lost his hand in an accident. He had it replaced with a silver hook."
Sam pointed at another page, "Look where it all happened."
Dean read it over, "9 Mile Road…Bridge, looks like your drawing talents are coming in handy."
"Let's check it out," Bridge said and grabbed her jacket off the back of the chair.
Dean opened the trunk of the car after they parked and handed Sam a rifle. Bridget cleared her throat holding her hand out.
"Yes?" Dean asked.
"Where's my gun?"
"You don't need a gun."
"Why not?" she asked hands on her hips now.
"Because you have us, just stay close…this is 9 Mile Road you know…staying close is what people do up here," he flashed her a grin.
"In that case, I'll stay close to Sam. He'll at least watch my back which is seven or eight inches above my ass," she retorted.
"Buckshot won't do much against them," Sam said.
"It's not, it's rock salt," she told him.
"Salt being a spirit deterrent," Sam said.
"Yeah, it won't kill them, but it'll slow 'em down," Dean said.
"That's pretty good, you and Dad think of this?" he asked.
Dean gestured at Bridget, "Actually, Bridge gave us the idea when we met her. It's what she had in her gun."
"And I don't even get a gun," she mumbled.
They heard something move amongst the trees and froze, Sam raising his gun.
"Over there," Bridget pointed, whispering.
The trees moved again and a police sheriff came out from the trees, gun raised. "Put your gun down! Now!"
"W-w-wait, okay, okay!" Dean said, holding his hands up in defense and set his gun down.
"Now get down on your knees," he ordered. "Come on, do it! On your knees."
"Dean, I swear to God you make a joke and I'll shoot you," she whispered to him, noticing his smirk.
"On your stomachs, move!"
Bridget did so but pointed at the brothers, "Sam had the gun…sheesh."
Luckily enough, an hour later they were leaving the police station and Bridget was glad enough not to get frisked. Dean smiled at Sam, "I saved your ass. Talked the Sheriff down to a fine."
"How?" Bridget asked.
"I told him you were a dumbass pledge and we were hazing you," he said.
"What about me?"
"Oh, easy. Told him you were my date and you came along for the thrill," he said and she rolled her eyes.
"What about the gun?"
"I said you were hunting ghosts and spirits were repelled by rock salt. You know, typical Hell Week prank."
"And he believed you?"
"Well, yeah, you look like a dumbass pledge and Bridget looks easy in her outfit."
She smacked his arm for the comment and was getting ready to say something when several police cars took off. They exchanged a look and headed towards the car.
They parked across from the sorority house, watching the ambulance and seeing Lori sitting in the backseat wrapped in a blanket in shock. They got out of the car and walked around the back of the house.
Sam shook his head, "Why would the Hook Man come here? This is a long way from 9 Mile Road."
"Maybe he's not haunting the scene of the crime…maybe he's haunting something else," Bridget suggested and paused in front of a window that was partially open, she boosted herself up climbing up onto the balcony with Sam's help. Dean gave her a push and smiled up at her.
"Boy shorts? Took you for a thong girl," he said, Bridget made sure her foot slipped and hit him in the shoulder.
"Whoops," she said and swung over, reaching down to help Sam up then Dean. Sam pushed the window open and slid through, Bridget gestured Dean to go next. "No more peeking, you go."
Dean tisked and went through, slipping and falling on Sam. "Oh sorry," he apologized as Bridget got in.
"Be quiet!" Sam hissed at him.
"You be quiet."
"You be quiet!"
"You both be quiet," she hissed at them.
Sam moved closer to the bedroom door and peaked out, watching the Sheriff walk downstairs leaving the area. He shut the door once it was safe.
"'Aren't you glad you didn't turn on the light?'" Bridget read the blood painted words from the wall.
"That's right out of the legend," Sam said.
"Yeah, that's classic Hook Man all right. Definitely a spirit," Dean nodded scrunching his nose at the smell.
"Yeah, I've never smelled ozone this strong before," Sam frowned at the window. "Hey, come here." Bridget and Sam crossed over to him and saw the cross symbol beneath the writing on the wall. "Does that look familiar to you?"
"Yeah…I got the files in the car," Bridget said and headed out the window with the boys following her to the car where she grabbed the folder. Sam held out his cell phone with the picture of the symbol he took on the screen and Bridget held up the printed out copy. "It's the same symbol."
"Looks like it is the spirit of Jacob Karns," Sam said.
"All right, let's find the dude's grave, salt and burn the bones and put him down," Dean said with a firm nod.
Bridget's face fell a bit, "Uh oh, 'After execution, Jacob Karns was laid to rest in Old North Cemetery…in an unmarked grave." She rubbed at the bridge of her nose and Sam shook his head.
"Super," Dean muttered annoyed with it.
"Okay, we know that it's Jacob. But we still don't know where he'll manifest next or why," Sam said.
"If I was to take a guess I'd say Lori has something to do with it," Dean assumed and they got into the car. Bridget had grabbed a flair off the car as she got in.
"Anyone up for a party tonight?" she held the flyer out to them. "If Lori's there Jacob might follow."
Few hours later they were at the frat hall party. Bridget hadn't bothered changing, for once her clothes fit in at the scene, she had just merely taken off the boat neck top and left the other one on.
"Man, you've been holding out on me," Dean grinned. "This college thing is awesome," he winked at a girl that passed by.
"This wasn't really my experience."
"Go figure," Bridget snorted.
"You partied?"
She nodded with a shrug. "Occasionally. My brother did it in his day, Will and I would go to a couple parties here and there…do some shots…have a few drinks…wind up passed out on a table or bench or slide somewhere…"
"Kinky," Dean said.
"Not in your dreams."
"I didn't care for it much," Sam said.
"Let me guess," Dean said. "Libraries, studying, straight A's."
Sam nodded.
"Hey I did the library thing too," Bridget argued. "I got kicked out of one too, though so it balanced out."
"Why were you kicked out?"
"There are janitor's closets in the library…and sometimes a girl and her boyfriend get bored of studying statistics."
"Nice…did you guys at least do your homework today without hanky panky?"
Bridget rolled her eyes and Sam answered."Yeah, it was bugging me. How is Hook Man tied to Lori? So we came up with something," Sam unraveled a paper.
"1932," Dean read. "Clergyman arrested for murder. 1967. Seminarian held in hippie rampage."
"There's a pattern here," Bridget said. "In both cases the suspect was a man of religion who openly preached against immortality. And then found himself wanted for killings he claimed were the work of an invisible force. Killings carried out – get this – with a sharp instrument."
"What's the connection to Lori?" Dean asked.
Bridget let her arms flap down to her sides, irritated. "You explain it. It's like talking to a wall."
"A man of religion, Dean? Who openly preaches against immortality? Except this time instead of saving the whole town maybe he's just trying to save his daughter."
"Reverend Sorensen. You think he's summoning the spirit?" he asked.
"Maybe, or, you know how a poltergeist can haunt a person instead of a place?"
"Yeah, the spirit latches onto the reverend's repressed emotions, feeds off them, yeah, okay."
"Without the reverend knowing it," Bridget added.
"Either way, you should keep an eye on Lori tonight."
"What are you going to do?" Bridget asked him.
"I'm gonna go see if I can find an unmarked grave," he looked at the pretty blonde across the way and hung his head. "Bridget, I don't suppose you're up for digging?"
"Gosh, as fun as that sounds I'll stay here," she said and watched Dean slunker off. "So we go to the Reverend's house?"
Sam nodded, "That we do and we can talk along the way."
Bridget put her hands in her pockets, "Okay. How bout them Lakers?"
"You know what I want to talk about."
She sighed, "There is nothing going on between me and your brother, he can make all the sexual passes he wants but I won't sleep with him."
"That's not it, Bridge."
"Fine, I stole the cookie from the cookie jar. It was me. I admit it. I also took twenty bucks out of Dean's wallet."
"Do you always deflect serious conversation with humor and sarcastic remarks?"
"Maybe."
"Why didn't you tell me you had dreams of things that haven't happened?"
"Same reason I never told Dean or John."
"And that would be?" he asked.
"It's none of your business."
He touched her arm. "But you knew I was having them too."
"I didn't know until the Bloody Mary incident. Then I found out I wasn't the only weird person."
"How did it start?"
"My brother and I were just always able to do things…are family was special or something. They died in a car crash when I was six and me and Derek lived with my aunt until Derek became my legal guardian. We were both able to do weird things. I don't get the dreams all the time…how long have your been going on?"
"Since I was eighteen or nineteen," he said. "What else can you do?"
"Besides beat your brother at a fair fight and shoot a can off a ledge from fifty yards away," she shrugged. "I don't know, curse everyone I love to an early grave, so don't get too attached," she winked at him.
"You're not cursed, Bridge," he shook his head. "Bad things just happen."
"Yeah, sucky bad things," she sighed.
"It doesn't make you cursed or mean it was your fault."
"I never said it was."
"You didn't have to."
Her mouth twitched a bit and she let out a deep breath. "I had a dream about it…about my brother's house catching fire and a body lying in the front yard with someone kneeling over it and some dark figure disappearing out of sight…and it happened. I thought it was just a dream and they're dead…and I know it's not my fault because usually my dreams are meant to happen…I just have a hard time believing they were meant to die and leave me alone…but I'm going to find that bastard that shot Will and make 'em pay…"
"What about the one that killed your brother and his wife and your nephew?"
She smiled sideways at him and nudged him with her arm, "You and your brother can take care of him, you have more reason, just let me have the blonde dark glowy eyed one and we're even…and don't worry, Sam…I won't tell Dean about your dreams or your migraine visions."
"Migraine visions?" he questioned.
"Dream I had, give it time," she sighed.
He shook his head, "You are a weird one Bridget."
"Thank you kindly," she said with a curt nod.
"Never said it was a compliment."
"But I know it was."
"Why?"
"Because if it wasn't you'd be kissing the sidewalk."
"Are you really that good? I've never seen you do it," he said and the next thing he knew his arm was twisted behind his back and her leg kicked his ankle out from under him and just before he hit the floor her hand latched onto his shoulder, pulling him back up and propelling him into the wall as she let go. He stared at her as she stood there, hands folded over her chest with a small smile, her eyebrow cocked. He nodded his head, "Okay…you're that good."
"I'm not the type of girl guys have to worry about," she told him as they continued watching approaching the reverends house and sitting on a bench next to it. She touched her necklace, "But some guys do anyway…men."
"Only cause we care," he told her.
"You do realize you have a great family…" she turned her head to him. "That your brother loves you more than anyone else and your father is proud of you in a way you don't understand."
Sam snorted.
"I will put you on the floor for real this time, Sam…your dad does love you…"
"Funny way of showing it and how would you know?"
"Because I talked to him and he said it…"
Sam's face fell a bit. "What did he say?"
She shook her head, "Why don't you try talking to him when we find him?"
"You mean if…"
"No," she looked back at the house. "I meant when."
He was about to ask her a question when they heard the reverend and his daughter arguing from inside. They sat quietly, listening, waiting just in case anything approached. Lori came outside and sat next to them on the bench a few minutes later. "I saw you guys from upstairs. What are you doing here?"
"We're keeping an eye on the place," Bridget said. "We were worried."
"About me?" she asked in shock looking back and forth at the two.
"Yeah, sorry," Sam apologized.
"No, it's cool. I already called the cops," she smiled teasing.
"I'm glad you're joking. I've had enough of cops for the day," Bridget snorted.
"I'm glad you guys care, no matter how you dress," she said to Bridget who again snorted. "I think it's very sweet of you both but you should seriously run away from me."
"Why?" Sam asked.
"It's like I'm cursed or something. People around me keep dying," she said sadly.
Sam's eyes met Bridget and he noted she was touching her necklace again. He imagined she was feeling that same gut clenching twist he was at the words. "I think we know how you feel."
"No one will talk to me anymore…except you two. The sheriff thinks I'm a suspect…and you know what my dad will say? Pray. Have faith. What does he know about faith?"
"We heard you guys fighting in there," Sam gestured at the house.
"He's seeing a woman, a married woman. I just found out. She comes to our church with her husband. I know her kids. And he talks to me about religion? About morality? It's like, on one hand, you know, just do what you want and be happy. But he taught me, raised me to believe that if you do something wrong you will get punished. I just don't know what to think anymore."
Bridget's cell phone rang, the name flashing Dean. She stood up and walked a couple paces away, answering the phone. "What's up?"
"You with Lori?" he asked.
"Yup, she's okay," she nodded. "You find Jacob?"
"I hope so," he said. "Body's salted and burnt. Should be good?"
"All right, I'll let Sam know," she turned her head around and her eyes widened a bit to see Lori kissing Sam and she couldn't help to feel a pang of something…jealousy? No, it couldn't be. They were her friends and she didn't want some basket case bimbo with a hook man messing with her friends.
"Bridge, you there?" Dean said on the other line.
"Yeah, sorry. I'll let Sam know."
"Okay, see you guys soon."
She hung up her phone and strolled back to the, lips pursued and walking with more purpose. "That was Dean," she said a bit bitterly though the two were no longer kissing she was pretty sure the lethal I'm-a-bitch look was in her eyes. "He's on his way to us."
"Lori?" they heard the reverend call from the house. "Come inside, please."
Lori growled. "I'll come inside when I'm ready."
Bridget's eyes widened suddenly as the Hook Man appeared behind the reverend and slashed his hook into his shoulder, he pulled him inside and the door slammed shut. "Oh my God," Bridget said and was already running towards the house, Lori screaming somewhere behind her. She burst through the front door and heard him screaming upstairs. She took them two at a time and kicked at the bedroom door as the Hook Man was about to put his hook in him again. Sam nudged her aside and shot him causing him to turn to dust and disappear.
Lori pushed her past her and kneeled down next to her dad, crying hysterically. Bridget was already on the phone calling an ambulance. She hung up and looked at Sam with a shake of her head, "Dean burnt the body…what the hell is going on?"
They found themselves explaining it to the police at the hospital. "We were just talking outside. Then Lori's dad came out…and then he appeared."
"A big man? Carrying a weapon, some kind of hook?" the Sheriff repeated.
Bridget nodded, "Yes, wearing like a trench coat and a hat."
"Ever seen him before?"
Bridget shook her head and Sam answered, "No, sir."
"Listen, it seems every time I turn around I'm seeing the two of you, I suggest you stay out of trouble."
Dean came walking down the hall and two cops stopped him, "No, no. It's okay, that's my brother and my girlfriend," he looked past the cops waving at them. "Hey brother! Girlfriend!"
Bridget rolled her eyes and the sheriff let him through. He came straight over to them not missing an opportunity to put his arm around her shoulders though he might pay for it later if his hand fell any lower. "You two okay?"
"Yeah," Sam nodded.
"What the hell happened?" Dean asked.
"Hook Man," she told him.
"He was there?" Dean looked at her bewildered.
"Yeah, I thought you torched him."
"I did, how could it be him?"
"There's another thing," Sam said. "I don't think the spirit is latching on to the reverend."
"That's kind of a no brainer, why would he send the guy after himself," Dean said.
"I think it's latching onto Lori. Last night she found out her father is having an affair with a married woman," he informed him.
"So what?"
Bridget rolled her eyes and shrugged his arm off her shoulder, "So she's upset about it. She's upset about the immorality of it. She told us she was raised to believe that if you do something wrong you get punished."
"Okay, so she's conflicted and the spirit of Preacher Karns is latching on to repress the emotions and maybe he's doing the punishing for her?"
"Right," Sam nodded. "Rich comes on too strong, Taylor tries to make her into a party girl, Dad has an affair."
"Remind me not to get on her bad side," Bridget mumbled. "If you burnt the body, Dean, was is he still coming around."
"Maybe you missed something," Sam suggested.
"No, I burnt the entire coffin," he said.
"Did you get the hook?" Bridget asked.
"The hook?"
"Well, it was the murder weapon and in a way a part of him," she said.
"So, like the bones, the hook is a source of power…"
"So if we find the hook…" Sam went on.
The three spoke at the same time, "We stop the Hook Man." They smiled at each other, finding a plan.
Discouragement came twenty minutes later after reading that the hook was in the church but it was melted down into something else. The only solution was to break in and burn everything silver and after salvaging everything in the house and church they had a bon fire in the basement. Footsteps were suddenly heard upstairs and they hurried up seeing Lori sitting in a pew crying.
"Lori?" Bridget said and stepped closer to her.
"Bridget, what are you doing here?" she gasped startled and looked her over. "Do you always wear those kind of clothes?"
She shrugged, "It's easy to wear."
"What's wrong?" Sam asked.
She wiped at her eyes, "I've been trying to understand what's going on so I'm praying for forgiveness."
"Forgiveness for what?"
"Don't you see? I'm to blame for all this. I've read in the Bible about avenging angels," Lori said.
"Trust us, this guy is no angel."
"I was angry at my father…and then he came."
"It's not your fault," Bridget said.
"Yes, it is. I don't know how but it is," a shadow caught Bridget's attention, something was wrong. "I killed Rich. Taylor, too…I nearly killed my father."
Sam shook his head, "Lori…don't."
"I can see it now," she said. "They didn't deserve to be punished, I do." The candles at the altar suddenly blew out and Bridget cursed.
"Shit, come on, we gotta go," she started walking away and opened the door to the basement and the Hook Man appeared behind it, pushing his hook through. She slammed the door on him. "GO!" she yelled and ran down the aisle with Sam and Lori. Sam shut the door and the hook came through, missing him by inches. Bridget found herself on the other side of the door, he was in front of her and had no desire to go after her.
"Lori! Hurry! Get upset at me!"
"Why?" she yelled back.
"Just do it, because I know you hate my outfit, I know you think it's slutty. Punish me for it!" The Hook Man was swinging at them and caught Sam's shoulder. "HURRY!"
"Okay…"
Suddenly the Hook Man froze, looking back and forth between them then started after her. Bridget realized then she had no weapon. "Great plan," she mumbled to herself and ran into the other room, shutting the door behind her, but it had no lock. "Shit," she pushed a nightstand in front of it and his hook started beating through. She turned to go through another room but there were no more doors, she was trapped. "Shit…shit…"
A pounding noise behind her made her jump and she turned to face the window into the room Sam was in. He motioned for her to back up and shattered the window, knocking the glass off the frame and motioning for her. "Come on!"
"Are you okay?" she asked him seeing the blood on his shoulder.
"Yeah, come on," the door shattered behind her. "NOW!"
Bridget pushed up on the ledge and Sam put his arms around her, pulling her through, the Hook man lashed out, catching the backside of her lower leg, cutting through her shoe straight into her calf. She yelled out in pain and lashed out with her other foot causing him to disappear. Sam righted her to her feet and bent down to look at her leg. "Are you okay?"
She patted his shoulder, "Yeah, I'll live. Where is he?"
An invisible force knocked down Lori and started dragging her across the floor. Sam and Bridget hurried over to her and helped her up. "Come on," they managed to pull her away.
The Hook Man appeared behind Sam, knocking him into the wall and coming at Lori and Bridget. She stood in front of the younger girl, shielding her. He reached out and grabbed Bridget holding her by the throat, she scratched and clawed but it was no use. She was going to die.
Suddenly he exploded into dust and she leaned back against the table, catching her breath. "Are you okay?" Sam asked her.
"Never better," she nodded and looked at Dean. "I thought you got all the silver."
"So did I," Dean said.
"Then why is he still here?" Sam asked. His eyes froze on Lori and her cross. "Lori, where did you get that chain?"
"My father gave it to me," she said.
"Where'd your dad get it?"
"He said it was a church heirloom, he gave it to me when school started."
"Is it silver?" Bridget asked.
"Yes," she said and Sam ripped it off. A ripping noise came down the hallway, a long drag mark being left in the wall. Dean looked at Sam holding his hand out. "Sam!" Dean threw him the shot gun and tossed him the necklace. Sam shot at the invisible force and reloaded the gun but had a hard time with his injured shoulder.
"Here, let me," she reached for the gun but it was knocked from Sam's arm and they were pushed back, hitting the floor. The three back pedaled into a corner, the Hook Man looming over them. "I sooo did not see this in a dream," Bridget mumbled and Sam put his arm around her, trying to shield her. She was getting a little tired of that. She pushed his arm away from her just as he raised his hook and suddenly it melted and he burned away. With a deep breath she pushed herself to her feet, wincing slightly at the pain it caused her. That was going to be a bitch later.
She heard sirens, "Always two minutes too late," she sighed and started limping down the hall, patting Dean on the shoulder as she went.
"You should really look at visiting the ambulance," he said.
"Why?" she asked as they all walked outside.
"Because you have blood dripping out of your shoe," he pointed out.
"Yeah…I'm pissed…I like these shoes."
"You have two more pairs just like them," he told her.
"I know," she sighed. "You talk to the Sheriff, I'll go to the ambulance with Sam."
There she sat, wincing here and there as they cleaned out her cut, luckily needing no stitches just some butterfly bandages.
"Are you okay?" Sam asked her, shouldering back into his jacket.
"I'm great," she said looking at her ruined shoe. "I really liked these."
"No, I mean are you okay?"
"I'm fine."
"You didn't seem fine."
"I had a hooked hand guy coming after me, Sam."
"You also shoved me away when I was trying to protect you."
"Because I don't need you too," she shook her head. "You seem to like girls you have to save," her eyes flittered to Lori.
Sam caught on, "You saw her kiss me."
"Looked like you kissed her too. Not that I care, I just watch out for people I care about," she said.
"So do I," he said and smiled at her, she smiled back and looked up as Lori approached.
"Are you guys okay?"
She held up her shoe, "I'm better than my shoe."
"I'm sorry about that," she apologized.
She shrugged it off, "I wasn't quick enough."
"I still don't know what happened but you all saved my life…thank you."
Sam nodded and smiled and helped Bridget as the two walked away, her determined to walk on her own no matter how bad her limp was.
"You two all right?" Dean asked as they got in.
Bridget stretched her leg out, "Don't worry, I won't bleed all over your car."
"Just checking," Dean said and started the car, driving off into the distance if the interstate, wondering what freaky thing would come their way next.