The mute button had been activated yet again, sending five year old Chrissie into stubborn silence. Her old ripped yellow nightdress had been replaced by a large Thundercats t-shirt, which was baggy in contrast with the child's skinny frame. Her sleep pattern was yet again disturbed by nightmares, which almost led to her brothers to mental breakdowns themselves. The brothers could only wish for a solution to their baby sister's problems and thankfully, Celia Ferguson, an old friend of Bobby's, was now on her way to Sioux Falls, South Dakota.
The sun peered over the horizon, filtering sunlight into the atmosphere as night became morning. Chrissie had been up for some time and was watching the rising sun, with her faithful teddy bear companion Goober tucked under her arm. Since, her bed was next to the window, she didn't have to move off the mattress, offering her the opinion to return under the bed sheets whenever she wanted to.
The child mumbled strange words under her breathe as she absentmindedly scratched the angry red hand print on the crook of her arm. The pain suddenly hit as her tiny finger nails scraped across the inflamed skin which caused the little girl to squeal. A burning sensation was the result as the hand print began to glow brightly. Chrissie cried out in fright as she scurried off the mattress, landing heavily on her bottom which caused her to howl louder. Loud and hurried footsteps followed close by. Chrissie trembled violently, shuffling herself under the bed in order to hide from whoever was about to invade her sanctuary. Frightened, the little girl curled into a shivering ball, listening out for the intruders with her sharp ears as she squeezed her teddy bear close to her chest.
The bedroom door flew open and the hurried footsteps entered the room. Two voices called out her name, yet the child refused to move from her current position under her bed.
"Chrissie?" one of the voices called out. "Chrissie, where are you?"
She held her breathe as a pair of sneakers stopped at her eye level. Chrissie tried to scurry away as a hand lifted the bed sheets which drooped over the side of the bed, her eyes widened as a figure was soon crouched down and peering under the bed. It was Sam.
"What you doing under there?" the thirteen year old questioned. "Come out. It's okay, there's no reason to hide."
Chrissie darted out from under the bed, almost like a bat out of hell and dived onto her bed again. Chrissie's distress escalated as she buried herself under the folds of bed sheets, whimpering like a puppy. The brothers gawped in horror as they witnessed the glowing bruises on their sister's body, and the pair clambered beside the five year old. Chrissie peaked out from her bed sheets, her expression was that of confusion, pain and fear. Whining, she crawled over to the eldest.
"Hey, what's this all about?" the seventeen year old asked, pulling her into an embrace. He tilted her chin slightly. "Don't be afraid, nobody is going to hurt you. Lemme see those bruises again, can we see?"
The child gazed up at her concerned brothers before lifting up the t-shirt, exposing her bare flat chest. Purple stains decorated the sensitive skin, an eerie glow radiated from each individual bruise. The brothers exchanged a worried expression between each other. It was clear that the marks were spreading and obviously causing their sister discomfort. Chrissie pouted as she gazed at the bruises herself, dragging her finger nails across them as the burning causes them to itch.
"No," Dean scolded gently, swatting her hand away as he pulled down her t-shirt. "Leave them alone."
Chrissie's bottom lip stuck out further as it began to wobble, tears welling in her large green eyes. Salty tear drops leaked down the child's adorable freckled face, her shoulders slightly hitching. Sniffles escaped her tiny pink lips. She gazed at her brothers, looking for an explanation on the situation. Skinny arms reached out for contact.
"C'mere," said the eldest, as he pulled the distraught little girl into his arms once again. "Help is on the way. I promise you, by the end of the day, you'll be as right as rain."
The siblings could only wait for the savior that would deliver them from this heartache.
"I sure wish Bobby would hurry up" said Dean as he cradled the softly weeping child in his arms, rocking her as if she was a baby again.
"So do I" commented Sam, nodding in agreement. "How long does it take to get to the airport and pick some one up and get back?"
Minutes later, the five year old was sound asleep.
Celia knew a lot about hunting, her family on both sides came from a long line of hunters. Her father, named Stuart, was a well built, tough as old boots man from Inverness in the Highlands of Scotland. Hunting was in his blood and his passion for it was ignited more once he met the Irish beauty Jean, who later became his wife and mother to his four children. Celia emigrated to the United States at the age of thirty, it was claimed she wanted to venture new territory. Fifteen years later, she had developed more as a hunter, gaining herself respect amongst fellow hunters as a valuable contact and acquaintance. One of which was Bobby Singer.
The Scottish-American had one theory about the situation she had been given. A little girl who has been traumatized through having contact with an evil spirit, with the addition of the bruises on her body. She left Chicago with everything she required and headed off to South Dakota. The forty-five year old entered her friend's home, an old bag slung over her shoulder. Bobby found no trace of the Winchester kids outside or on the lower level of his house, therefore he motioned upstairs to the strawberry blonde female, his guessing was that they were upstairs. Celia was into the child's room, and there she was confronted by two teenage boys. The eldest was lean yet muscular with dazzling green eyes, whilst the other had dark brown shaggy hair and was slightly lanky, probably about to hit a growth spurt.
Celia shrugged her bag from her left shoulder and placed it on the ground. She then smiled over at the boys, who seemed to have relaxed slightly in her presence. Celia noted the small fluffy haired girl, sleeping on her bed, tucked underneath layers of bed sheets.
"You must be Celia," said the eldest sibling before holding his hand out to her. "I'm Dean."
Celia nodded and shook the youth's hand. The middle sibling approached her, once again showing good manners by offering his hand to her.
"I'm Sam" the younger teenage said.
Celia smiled at them, her brown eyes offering them reassurance, before perching herself on the sleeping child's bed. A white skinny arm was poking from the folds of the bed sheets, allowing Celia to take hold of it. It was the arm with the angry hand print.
"What's your sister's name?" asked Celia, her accent not as strong as it was when she arrived in the States.
"Christina," replied Sam, watching over his sister. "But everybody calls her Chris for short."
Celia continued to study the little girl, briefly touching the glowing hand print with her index finger. The print was hot to the touch and she retreated her hand from the red mark. She frowned, her hand then traveled inside her jacket pockets, before producing a small silver hip flask, ornate with a thistle and the Saint Andrews Cross. The female hunter unscrewed the cap and took hold of the child's arm again, before dropping tiny droplets of liquid onto the bruise.
"Is that what I think it is?" queried Dean. "Is that holy water?"
Nothing happened once the water hit the bruise, which satisfied Celia who turned her head to the older teenager.
"Aye, it was holy water," she replied, storing her hip flask back inside her dark navy denim jacket. "Just to make sure, but I assure you, it's not a possession we're dealing with."
Celia then produced a small vial of burnt orange liquid from her jacket pocket.
"And just what is that?" asked Dean pointing at the vial, his eyes studying the female. "I won't have her harmed in any way."
Chrissie wriggled underneath the bed sheets, a tiny whimper escaped her lips.
"This will put her to sleep and hopefully get rid of the sickness within her," explained Celia, giving the eldest the vial. "Trust me, I've dealt with many cases like this and it will cause her no harm."
The seventeen year old studied the vial in his hand carefully, showing it to Sam before taking it back. The older teen looked at the Scottish-American.
"What's wrong with her?" he asked, gazing down at his precious baby sister.
"Chris has contracted a form of infant ghost sickness," replied Celia, aware that the five year old was stirring slightly. "It's common in children who have first hand encounters with the paranormal. Seems like the spirit has left memory imprints on your sister, which are the bruises."
Sam pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a weary sigh. This was all his Dad's fault, he got Chrissie sick, he was to blame for this situation.
"There are different forms of ghost sickness," added Celia. "This type only effects small children. So you don't have to worry about it being contagious or anything."
Dean nodded thoughtfully, his gaze not leaving that of his slumbering sister.
"Is it curable? Can you cure it?" he asked. "As if she never came into contact with the ghost?"
"It's curable," returned Celia. She pointed at the vial in his hand. "The liquid in that vial will remove all aspects of the sickness. It also will remove all the memories and images created by the spirit. Most likely, she will have no memory of this event."
The brothers exchanged a relieved expression with each other. Chrissie wriggled in her sleep again, another gentle whimper parted from her lips. Celia hushed her, stroking her hair before motioning for the eldest to come closer.
"She has to drink the liquid," stated Celia. "You have to give the liquid to her."
Dean nodded, and cautiously he edged himself across the bed before hoisting the child into an awkward embrace, with him holding his arms around her torso. Her head lagged back into his chest, her mouth partially open. She wriggled slightly and let out a tiny whimper. The seventeen year old carefully emptied the content of the vial into his sister's mouth. The little girl grimaced as she involuntary swallowed the amber liquid.
"I know it gross sweetheart," crooned the older teenager into the undisturbed child's ear. "You gotta take it though."
Chrissie let out a shiver as the liquid traveled down her gullet, a whimper signaled her upset. Her forehead creased into a frown as she screwed her eyes.
"Keep hold of her," instructed Celia, taking the now empty vial from the teenager. "It will soon take effect in a few seconds."
Just as soon as Celia uttered that statement, the hand print on Chrissie's arm began glowing a bright purple before vanishing completely. A misty fog then began to filter from the child's mouth, which startled the brothers.
"What's going on?" questioned Sam, his tone laced concern. "What's happening?"
"Open the window," commanded Celia, to which Sam obeyed. "This is the sickness leaving her body. Opening the window allows it to escape into the air outside. That way it won't come back."
The fog billowed out Chrissie's throat, making her convulse and shudder. Tiny strangled chokes sounded from the little girl, causing the eldest sibling distress.
"It's gonna be over soon, baby," he hushed, still holding her around the torso in an attempt to keep her upright during this process. He rubbed her back in order to eased her suffering. "Just keep going, you are doing great."
The siblings and the female hunter watched as the sickly miasma drifted out of the window, vaporizing as soon as it came into contact with the oxygen outside. Chrissie became motionless. Celia leaned forward and placed a hand on the child's forehead, she looked up at the near panicking teenager that was cradling her.
"It's over, the sickness is gone," said Celia with a small smile. She lifted Chrissie's t-shirt, exposing her chest. "See. The bruises are gone too."
The brothers both sighed in relief as their gaze fell upon the little one.
Chrissie wriggled again in her brother's arms, her large green eyes fluttered open causing her elder siblings to smile.
"Hey, your finally awake," grinned Dean. "I thought I'd have to give you a big kiss to wake you up Sleeping Beauty."
The five year old giggled weakly at the joke, her eyes still bleary from sleep. She focused on the strange figure sitting beside her on the bed, causing her to cock her head and point at the female hunter.
"Whose you?" she questioned, her expression dozy yet adorable.
Celia smiled at the curious little girl, watching the affectionate nature of the brothers as they mollycoddled her.
"That's Miss Celia," explained Sam, holding his sister's hand. "She is the nice lady who fixed you when you were sick."
Chrissie frowned and wrinkled her nose in confusion. She didn't recall being sick.
"I wasn't sick" said Chrissie, her tone dramatically cute.
The brothers chuckled, overjoyed that they had their baby sister back to normal.
"Yes you were, you were very sick," said Sam. "And Miss Celia made you all better again."
Chrissie turned her attention on the Scottish-American, beaming at her warmly.
"Thanks you, Miss Celia," grinned the five year old, her hair fluffy. "Thanks you for making me all better."
Celia leaned over and ruffled the child's wild hair, making her giggle shyly.
"No problem wee one," smiled Celia. "It's my job."
Chrissie tilted her head, her nose crinkled in confusion. She had never heard such a funny accent before. Pointing at Celia, Chrissie gazed up at her brothers.
"What that lady saying? She talking in silly voice" remarked the bewildered infant.
Celia and the older siblings could only laugh fondly at the green eyed little girl. Hopefully, she would have no memories of the incident involving the spirit. Things were back to normal. For now.
Happy New Year folks! I ended up spending New Years with friends and my night ended with my best friend and I walking down the street singing Auld Lang Syne, very loudly and off key. Kinda resembled the moment when Sam and Dean were singing Bon Jovi in the Impala.
I know it's been a while since I've updated this story so I hope you've enjoyed this chapter.
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