*Sits down from a long day of school.* FINALLY, SOME TIME TO MYSELF! I can't believe the crap that I had to put up with these past months. *Flops on the bed and sighs*
I can't believe it took you this long to finish another chapter.
*Screams* CROWLEY! THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE!?
I was just dropping by, seeing how my favorite writer is doing.
*eye twitches* If I told you I was fine, would you go away?
Now, now. No need for the sass. I was just worried since it was taking you FOREVER to get my chapter ready.
*Sigh* I told you before, I have a life. Which, by the way, ate a lot of my free time and creative energy.
Ha, ha. You really need to unwind. Why don't we find something for you to relax. Do you want to kill a jogger? Wanna rob a bank? Do you want to build a snow-
*pulls out a knife* FINISH THAT LINE! I DARE YA! I DOUBLE DARE YA, YOU SON OF A BITCH!
Easy. It doesn't have to be a- *Blade misses his nose* Okay! Yeesh. How about we read the chapter you owe me.
*Places knife on the table* Fine. But I'm warning you. *Clears throat* What's up, everybody! Scorpi-
Fast forward, please?
*Growls* Chapter 4... *whisper* screw you, Crowley...
Old Wounds
"I heard that those missing families were a local matter, Agent Smith," the department head said as he gestured for Sam and Dean to sit. They both dressed in pressed black suits and ties to sell their 'FBI' acts. Even after calling the head of their division ('Idjits' was the last thing Bobby said before hanging up), the doctor was still skeptical of their impromptu appearance. "I'm not quite sure why that would interest the FBI, or why it would involve this hospital."
"The local P.D. are having some issues piecing a few details together," Sam, as Agent Smith, started with a cold professionalism common in any government official, in movies anyway, "We are just covering every avenue to make sure that there is no foul play."
Dean, aka Agent Hunter, adjusted his tie and gave a glare, "We try to cover every possible angle, regardless of relevance. These families have all visited this hospital within the past year. We have reason to believe that this is connected to their disappearance. That said, we are also interested in the increase in mortalities in this hospital."
"It might be possible that this and the missing families have some sort of connection as well," Sam added. "We are not saying that is what is going on, but it will be safe to rule out any possibilities.
The doctor thought for a moment. Sam and Dean was sure that they sold their ruse, but they knew that it was a matter of time before he either folds or calls their bluff. The brothers prepared for the worst as the doctor once again sized them up. After a long second, the doctor gave a sigh in defeat, " I'm not sure if we can tell you that wasn't already told to the local P.D., but if you see something they missed you welcome to talk to the people who handled those patients, schedule permitting of course."
"Of course," Dean raised from his seat. Sam followed suit and extended his hand to shake the doctor's. "Thank you for your cooperation. We will let you know if anything turns up."
The doctor informed them of doctor's and nurses' current location. Sam and Dean walked towards the office door as the doctor made his calls. With a nod, they exited the office and made their way to the pediatric ward.
"So," Sam began, loosening his tie, "did that guy seem a little paranoid to you?"
Dean took a quick look around, ensuring that no one overheard, "Well, after everything that happened, he should be jumpy. People just dying around for unexplained reasons, you'd start asking questions when the feds suddenly get involved."
After a few minutes, and a few run ins with the female nurses, much to Sam's annoyance, they made it to the children's ward. Because of the time of day, quite a few doctors and nurses were on call. The hunters took careful stock of the going ons around them, unease and cautions flying though their minds simultaneously. Hospitals, along with prisons and graveyards, are one of the least favored spots for most hunters due to abundances of spirits that normally inhabited these areas. Not to say that all spirits were evil or hostile, but things have a habit of becoming a problem when they are least expected. Hunters would opt to use trench medicine or partner up with someone who knew first-aid and avoid hospitals when they can. Most people would call this paranoia, and they would be right. That's why they wouldn't last long as hunters.
The Winchesters watched as the doctors and nurses go about their routine, from addressing children, parents, and each other to carting children to their rooms and giving lollipops. Every adult continued their duties as the brothers scanned the halls leading to the reception desk. Some gave them a courtesy glance, but did not question their presence. However, a few of the female nurses extending their hungry gazes towards Dean, causing Sam to roll his eyes. 'Can we just walk into a building without half of the female residents undressing him?' Sam thought as they continued to the receptions desk.
Dean placed his hand on Sam's shoulder and they both stopped. Dean was trying to hide a grin that he had on his face, but it did not escape Sam. "Okay, so the guy said that we can start asking these people about the strange activity. It would probably be best if we split up."
"Of course, the scrubs are not going to fly off themselves," Sam's hallucination started up as Lucifer sat on the reception's desk, picking at his nails of what seems like dried blood and skin. "Especially with your baby brother glued to your hip. Don't want people getting the wrong ideas."
Sam did his best to ignore the teasing, but hallucination or not, that didn't stop Lu from being right to question Dean's motives. "That's fine," Sam said. "We'll just meet at the car in three hours if we don't find anything first."
Dean gave a nod before starting to walk off. "And Dean?" He stopped and turned to his younger brother. "We're here for the case, so focus. Skirts later." Dean rolled his eyes and walked away, leaving Sam alone with a deadpan expression.
Sam began his walk through the children's ward, looking for a nurse to question. For the moment, Sam was alone with his thoughts.
"You know, he doesn't have the wrong idea."
Or at least, he wished he was.
"I mean, when was the last time you got laid?" Lucifer asked with no hint of shame as he walked alongside Sam, who was actively trying to ignore him. "Come on, I've been in your head for a while now. I would like a front row seat to some action."
Sam tried to drown him out of his thoughts, but failed. He would just press on his scar, but he didn't want to attract attention to himself. Considering how many times he pressed the scar, there was no doubt that the wound didn't heal correctly. Lu was clearly capitalizing on this.
"Come on, Sammy, live a little. You can be as eye-catching as brother. So what if he's got the better genes."
Sam continued to ignore him as he approached a nearby nurse after leaving a male nurse, probably just got finished talking to him. He waited until he was sure their conversation was over before pulling his ID and spoke. "Excuse me, miss. I am Agent George Smith, FBI. If you don't mind, I would like to ask you some questions."
The nurse turned towards Sam. Unlike most of the nurses in the ward, she looked drained. This wasn't the physical kind of drained, as Sam noted. This was the kind that comes from giving their emotional all to their work. It was the kind of drained that comes from seeing countless things that tear at the soul. She puts on her best smile, but the strain still showed.
"Umm... yes," she said, "I will help in any way I can. Though, I can't guarantee that I'll be able to stay for long."
"It's not like you need long, anyway," Lucifer said, leaning on the wall behind her. Sam knew that he can just press the scar, be didn't want to attract attention to the badly healed injury in a hospital. He had to bared with the annoyance for a little longer.
"That's fine. I am Agent Smith and I would like you to tell me what you know about the disappearance of a number of families in this area," Sam opened a notepad and pulled out a pen.
"Sorry, but I work with a lot of families, so you are going to have to be specific," she said to Sam. Sam predicted this, so he turned to a previous page in his note-book until he reached a list of family names, then read of the names on the list. At first, nine of them seemed to be familiar, but the last two names seemed to have clicked in her mind. The fatigue slowly changed to sorrow as Sam finished.
" Vics, huh? " the nurse sighed, a hint of sadness peppering the question. She motioned her hand, telling Sam to follow her. Ignoring Lucifer's snickering, Sam accompanied the nurse to a locked, vacant room. With the nurse fumbling with the keys and no one paying him any attention, Sam dug his thumb nail into his scar and allowed the pain to wash over his mind.
"You really do need to lighten up." And with that, the hallucination took its leave.
"I'm not supposed to tell you this. Patient confidentiality and whatnot," the nurse took a seat on the nearby doctor's chair, combing her hair with her fingers. She continued with the professional air, "However, this could be the only way to truly help those kids."
Sam opened the notebook and started writing, "You mean the Vics, right?" The nurse gave a slow nod. "How about we start from the top. What's going on with the Vics? "
The nurse took another deep breath and began. "Shawn Daniels is a goalie for the local kids soccer team and a pretty active child in his own right."
"Hold on, I thought it was Vics?" Sam asked.
"His mother married into that name. Their father was in the military when he passed away. Car bomb, from what I've heard. It was two months before Miles was born." Sam gave a simple nod and continued writing as the nurse went on. "Shawn was strong, though. After his brother was born, he picked up soccer. When he came for stitches in his arm, he told me he wanted to go pro and make his brother proud. Month later, his mother married their stepfather."
"After that, Shawn's visits became more frequent. At first, my associates and I thought that the injuries were sports related. But they began to look less sport related and more like he was on the losing end of a fight," the nurse gave another huff, as if she was trying to cry and finding herself incapable of doing it.
It didn't take long for Sam to fill in the blanks, however. "The marriage was not a happy one?"
"Mr. Vics was really in to sports, winning more so. He pushed Shawn beyond what his body was capable of, and reacted badly when Shawn didn't put out the expected effort. The training intensified if the other teams got a goal. Don't get me started on what would happen if they lost. He felt that the rough treatment would help build character," she finished as she leaned back in the chair.
Sam was not too happy to hear about the rough treatment, hitting closer to home then he is letting on. However, the story did bring up an idea. "What about the other family, the McLean family?"
She thought for a moment before she spoke, "A single mother and son. They're actually fairly happy. Although, Ms. McLean has trouble making ends meet. She works two jobs and has to leave her son with his nanny. The nanny forgot about a pizza she was cooking and caused a fire. The kid suffered from lung damage from the smoke. The son told me that the nanny hasn't been there. Of course, he didn't want to stress his mother about it."
Sam didn't know what to make of what he just heard. Slowly but surely, a pattern started to emerge. "Is the any possible way to find out about the other families under similar circumstances and whether they were here before?"
The nurse raised an eyebrow, "Do you think that there's a connection?" Sam slowly nodded. "I can't personally get the information, and the proper channels would require a search warrant. However, I could probably call in a few favors and get those names."
Sam stared at the nurse in shock. He knew what she was thinking and how illegal it was. "You do know-"
"I am fully aware that I could lose this job. But if I don't do something, I might find it harder to live with myself then when I took this job. Besides, you seem like a good person," she gave him a warm smile. "One that would give it all to help people. And those kids need all the help they can get. "
Sam simply nodded in agreement. People normally don't praise him for his work, despite this one not knowing his true occupation. One of the many things that their dad fail to teach the brothers was how to accept thanks from the people they help. Not that he felt that it was warranted. 'If she knew what my brother and I did and the lengths we went though to "help,"'Sam thought, she would more likely call the real cops than thank us.
Sam finished his notes and returned his book to his jacket. "Well, if you can get those records, or if you have anymore information, just call this number," Sam informed the nurse, handing her a business card from his back pocket. The nurse simply grabbed the card and nodded before exiting the room. Sam stood there, piecing what he learned together before following suit.
000000
The clear moonlit night blanketed the area with its pale aura, emphasizing the darkness and eeriness of the woods. It also served to stress the brightness and warmth of the rebuilt Pink Palace. For any child that has gotten lost and is looking for a place to find food, shelter, and affection, the Pink Palace was their haven. Which was the point to this building in the first place. One can't catch her prey without a good trap, after all.
However, this "Other World" was now just as different as it was the same. Unlike the old model, the world didn't just include the Palace. With the new souls that the Beldame has absorbed, she made a few additions to her web. She hadn't had the strength to make it completely as she wanted it, but it did its job for what it was. Her increase capture rate could attest to that.
The Beldame, however, didn't think about her new accomplishments, or the benefactor that help made it possible. Instead, she focused on the light-skinned boy who laid on her work bench in the attic of the Palace. The boy with burns on his right arm, covered in bandages. 'An accident with a pizza' she recalled him saying, but it didn't matter. He also had a red sweater with a pocket sewn into it. A gift he excepted from his 'Other Mother' with glee, but that didn't matter either. In his hand was a gold locket containing the picture of his mother. A symbol for how much he cared for his real mother, a mother that he was convinced would have a better life if she didn't have a child. None of this matter to the Beldame.
She couldn't even get invested when she started to sew the buttons into where his eyes were.
The Beldame tried to enjoy it like she used to. She had always enjoyed these last moments with her prey, savoring the victory that she had over them. The feeling of their essence, their souls, being drained into her with each stitch gave her a sense of euphoria. To see her completed work afterwards, the buttons within the eyes of her past children, always gave some artistic pride. But no matter how well she worked, how well she had enthralled her pray, no matter what she did, she always came back to that all-consuming though.
She finished the last stitch on her latest work, and took a step back to admire it. The boy had a thing for red, so the red buttons seemed suitable. There was less blood than her earlier work, and what was there seemed to make the rest of his face look picturesque. On any other day, this would have been her finest work. Something that she would have come back to admire for years to come. This time, it wasn't enough.
With a sigh, she placed the bloodied needle on the side of her work bench, and went towards the open attic door. After climbing down and closing the attic, she turned to the wall mirror down the hall. Of course, the mirror was simply the doorway to an old closet she once used to punish ill-behaved children. It served to instill fear when the children didn't except her 'love'. Without her influence, that room had no entrance or exits. Perfect for keeping bad children in, and annoying pests out.
She didn't slow down as she approached the mirror. This was her world and the reality here bends to her will. The matter in the reflecting glass simply allowed her to enter as it always has, granting her access to her sanctuary.
Instead of an worn-out cot, there was a work station within like the one in her attic. Unlike the clean and ordered one up stairs, this one was completely cluttered with a things with no visible connection between them, ranging from a hand-full of buttons that sat on a corner, to a few small toys, a used cotton candy holder, and a popcorn box. Hanging on a wall was a number of pictures taken by her rats at different times and from different places. The all had the one thing in common. They had the same, unassuming little girl in each, taking part in her natural routine.
The centerpiece of this makeshift shrine, the thing that caught the Beldame's button eyes, was a little female doll. This doll was finely stitched, with a lot of time and care going into crafting it. It's proportions was carefully measured to match the subject that inspired its creation. It wore a midnight blue sweater with yellow, five-point stars sewn in to it, blue jeans and black shoes. It's wool hair was blue as well and adorn with a black cap.
The Beldame gently picked up the doll, admiring the work and humming her tune. The more she caressed it, the more the excitement that she had missed came back. All the pieces were nearly in place. Her power was greater than ever before and her plan was slowly taking shape. She cradled the doll in her arm and stared at it with her wild, button eyes, full of anticipation.
"Soon, Coraline. We will be together again," whispered the Beldame in the doll's ear. "You will be mine. Forever…"
As she focused on the doll, the man stood behind her in silence. 'You are really starting to creep me out,' he thought.
000000
After a year of living in the Pink Palace, Coraline got used to staring at the decrepit ceiling as she laid in her bed. The formally eggshell white paint as long since degraded to the water stained, lifeless tope that it is now. Her parents have tried to paint her room some time ago, but they ended up arguing over which color would be used, with Mel wanted to restore it to its original eggshell while Charlie preferred pink. Coraline wanted light blue, to avoid pink if anything, but was quickly shot down. "The fact that your hair is blue is enough madness in this house," was the response Mel gave her daughter that day. Coraline could have easily countered with the fact that Mel only noticed it a month after they moved out of the three since she first dyed it, but decided to let it be. Considering the alternative, she was just happy they could still have conversations as mundane as these. They decided to put l the project on hold until an agreement can be reached. That time has yet to come.
The blue haired girl continued to rest in her bed after being brought home from the nurse's office. She was actually feel better after her faint spell. By the nurse's insistence, however, she was to stay in bed and rest. She didn't complain, though. After eating a sandwich her mom made and doing her homework, she spent the rest of her time thinking about what has happened earlier that day. Not much else to do until Wyborn gets home.
The first thing that Coraline thought about was the strange old man from that morning and what he told her. She immediately logged that away as unimportant and moved on to her meeting with Alexis. 'What if I am wrong?', she thought, recalling Wyborn's warning. 'What if she really isn't in trouble? I could be hearing things. Maybe I'm just being paranoid.'
As the seeds of doubt began to bloom in her mind, the nightmare began to come to mind. Her deformed reflection in the mirror came and went in a flash, but that voice lingered, echoing in her ears.
"You will be mine. Forever..."
Coraline jumped upright in her bed. She quickly looked at her shaking hands, insuring that they were still flesh and blood, sighing a breath when she that her hands are normal. 'Get a hold of yourself!' she chided to herself. 'Even if she was still alive, she would need the key to do anything. The nightmare is over and you are here. You are here. You are here...'
Coraline repeated the mantra in her mind, allowing the words to banish the images of the nightmare and the events of one year ago back to their dark corners. Her hands stopped shaking as the feeling of dread died down. She found herself bringing her knees to her chest, arms wrapped around them like a teddy bear in hopes of finding some comfort.
Before she got lost in thought again, a playful knock came from her door. Coraline didn't hear it over her thoughts, but the door opened despite the lack of a response.
"How's my little fuss-pot?" Charlie asked as he walked in. He took note of his daughter's state, and sat beside her on the bed. "Bad dreams, again?"
She didn't answer. Charlie figured that would be the response. He simply put his arm around her shoulders. Her whole body tensed up as he did. Another expected response. Though she never explained it to them, Mel and Charlie Jones were aware that Coraline has been having nightmares on and off for the past year. They weren't sure how it started, but the screams in the middle of the nights and her nightly visits to their bedroom caused them to be concerned for her. Over the months, the sleep problems became less frequent, though there is an occasional relapse like this. However, they opted to allow her to tell them when she was ready rather than pry, just being there when they're needed.
It was a solid minute before she finally gave a response. "Do you remember that time at the junkyard when we were attacked by bees?"
Charlie sighed. That did not answer his question. Another expected response. "I remember all the sting ointment that your mother and I had to buy. Shame, too. I was looking forward to that new car," Charlie joked.
Coraline tried not to, but couldn't help but chuckle. It only lasted for a second before her voice became somber again. "Why did you stay behind and allowed yourself to get stung? Why didn't you stay with me?"
"Well," her father thought out loud, "if I would have stayed with all those bees on me, there would have been more stings between us, right?"
"Weren't you scared? What if it turned out you were allergic? Or if your throat swollen shut? What would have happened if we didn't… if you didn't..."
"Hey, now. Nobody lost anything that day," Charlie reaffirmed, though not in a scolding tone. The message was clear, however, as his arm brought her closer to him. "You don't need to worry about losing anyone, because we are still here. I will sooner get stung by a million bees before I allow that to change, you hear me?"
Silence again. Coraline took the moment to consider the words. Maybe I am thinking about this too much. but I wonder… "What if it wasn't me, but a stranger?" she asked, making eye contact for the first time since he entered her room. "Another girl about my age? Would you still do the same thing, knowing the dangers?"
Mr. Jones simply rose an eyebrow. "Okay, something is wrong. Let me guess... you, or someone you know, is having a problem and You are wondering whether you should help."
For the first time since her father entered the room, Coraline make eye contact with her father, "How did you-"
"You're nowhere near as mysterious as you think you are, girly," Mr. Jones adjusted his glasses with a prideful smirk. In a house with two girls, these moments were rare. "You think we don't notice the way you behave? The way you try to dodge arguments by agreeing with us. Heck, you don't even complain when I cook anymore," Coraline couldn't help but cringe. "And we noticed that you come to our room in the middle of the night. You always has that scared look on your face.
"Now, maybe you've gained some maturity over the past year, or you are afraid that something bad will happen if you don't. Whatever it is, you are carrying the burden on your own. Mel and I are proud of how much you've grown, but we're also worried that you are forgetting that no matter what is going on, you don't have to shoulder it alone. Your mom and I will always be behind you. You also have Wyborn to count on. So whenever you need someone, even just to talk to, we're here. Though, I can't guarantee that we won't be in the middle of something, but we'll be here. Got that, fuss-pot?"
Charlie tighten his hug around his daughter. Coraline, against herself, couldn't help but return the gesture. However, she knew that giving the full story to her parents would be impossible. There was no guarantee that they would even believe her. Even if they did, they would likely try to shield her from the danger. If the Beldame really has come back, it will likely come for her, and it's not afraid to cheat or cause harm to get its way. Coraline knew this all too well.
'One day,' Coraline swore to herself, 'I will tell you everything, I swear. I just need to make sure that you guys are safe before I do. I have to finish this, somehow...'
"Oh," Mr. Jones remembered, releasing his grip, "in speaking of Wyborn, he called a few minutes ago. He asked for you to call him back when you feel up to it."
Coraline simply nodded, hopefully he talked to Alexis. The sooner that she got to the bottom of this, the sooner she can return to something resembling normal.
A few minutes of reminding herself of Wyborn's phone number ('Note to self, ask for a new cell phone'), Coraline called the Lovat home. She knows that the retired Miss. Lovat, their elderly landlord and Wyborn's grandmother, was never too far from the phone.
"Lovat Residence," Mrs. Lovat answered in two rings.
"Mrs. Lovat? Hello, this is Coraline," she greeted politely, loud enough for Mrs. Lovat's dull hearing.
A few seconds go by, as if to put the name to a rarely seen face, before the elderly landlord happily responded, "Oh, it's been a while since we last spoke, young lady. How you and your parents?"
"Fine, ma'am," Coraline answered quickly, hoping to avoid those long tangents that old people are known for. "My dad told me that Wybie called me. Is he still there?"
"He is in the middle of his chores now, but he's available. Do you want to speak to him?"
"Yes, please," Coraline quickly moved her ear away from the phone, preparing for what was coming.
"WYBORN!" she could hear from the speaker even with the phone at arm's length. "YOUR FRIEND CAROLINE IS ON THE PHONE!"
Annoyance shot through Coraline's head as she heard Mrs. Lovat mispronounce her name, but allowed the feeling to die with a slow, deep breath. 'Why can't adults EVER get my name right!?'
Another second later, Coraline could hear Wyborn as he grabbed the phone, politely correcting his grandmother on her error. "Hello?"
"It's me."
Wyborn was relieved, "It's good to hear that you are okay. You are okay, right?"
For a moment, Coraline wanted to yell his ear off. He knows she's fine, so why keep asking? However, the more the question dawned on her, the more she had to think about it. First the dreams, then the fainting, now her talk with her dad. She had convinced herself that she was fine for now, but was she really?
She pushed the question out of her mind. "Don't worry about me. I'm not as fragile as you think, Lancelot. Did you talk to Alexis? "
"Y-yeah. It was like trying to pull teeth from a tiger," Coraline could hear the annoyance in his voice as he recalled what she missed. "I ran into her after class. After I told her you were fine, for the third time I might add, she just locked up, I don't know. She would just ignore me and hum that tune from earlier. Then she says something like 'I might not be home for too long, but if my dad is okay with it, you two can come over' just before she left for home."
"So she agreed?" Coraline heard a hm-mm in confirmation. "Wybie, you are awesome!"
"Yeah, I try," a nervous chuckle could be heard on the line. "So, I still got choirs, but I can be there in about a half an hour. I'll see you then?"
"Sure. I'll see you soon," Coraline agreed. Without further word, she hung up the phone and ran back to her room. After she closed the door she peeled off her school, she grabbed a white and pink stripe long sleeve, denim jeans, and a pair of white running shoes from her closet and got dressed. It was cool outside and the wind had picked up, so she grabbed her yellow coat as well. Now dressed, she went down the stairs, loudly informing her parents that she was going outside for a while.
"Are you feeling up to it? You're not going to faint again? Don't want that happening in the middle of the road," her dad yelled back from his study.
"I'm fine, dad," she answered.
"Be back before sundown, then," Mel commanded from somewhere within the apartment.
With that, she was out the door again. She hoped she was wrong, but prepared her mind for the worst. I don't know what's going on here, but I have to find out, she grabbed her bike from the side of the poach and rode to meet Wyborn at the corner. I promised to tell them everything. And that is a promise I intend to keep.
There. That's Chapter 4. Satisfied yet?
For now.
Great. You can go now!
You still sore about last time?
In more ways than one.
Come on, now. Like is too short to be holding grudges. Lighten up. Take a deep breath, and Let...
No...
It...
CROWLEY, I SWEAR TO EVERYTHING GOOD AND HOLY. ..
Killjoy.
*Sigh* This is the Scorpion, signing-
GO!
Excuse me. .. DIIIIE!
*Chasing and smashing can be heard as Crowley sings loudly*
P.S.: Thanks DJexe for your proof reading skills. This chapter would be a lot uglier without you.
P.S.S.: I have no problem with Frozen. I think it is a great movie and the music is great too. However, when you hear every other Joe, Jane, Bobby and Susie singing the songs SEVEN MONTHS AFTER ITS RELEASE, it starts turning from an ear worm to an ear electric drill. Songs are great, just tired of hearing it.