Motel Room, 05:23AM.

I woke up to a loud bang, followed closely by the sound of Sam muttering something under his breath as he picked up whatever it was that he had dropped, placing it down on the table. I rolled over in bed and wiped the sleep from my eyes, opening them to look up at the dull ceiling. The room was still dark, the only light coming from where the bathroom door was slightly ajar. I glanced over at where Sam stood, fully dressed, at the other side of the room, looking like he was heading out somewhere. "Sammy?" I sat up slowly, my voice still slightly groggy with sleep, and ran a hand over my face, looking down at the clock beside the bed and raising an eyebrow at him. "Dude, it's half five in the morning, where are you going?"

"I uh, I was gonna go get some coffee." He muttered, shrugging like it wasn't a big deal. "Didn't mean to wake you." He added, his voice remaining quiet.

I shook my head and reluctantly pushed myself to get out of bed, crossing the room towards him. "You haven't even been to bed, have you?" He looked down at me, not giving an answer, I could clearly see in his face how tired he was, dark circles now forming under his eyes. "Sammy, you've gotta get some rest, you're exhausted."

He sighed, taking a step backwards to lean against the edge of the table. "I can't sleep, Max." He answered, his voice soft. "I wish that I could, but I just can't." I shook my head, I didn't know what to say to him, I didn't want to push him to talk about what he obviously didn't want to talk about, but I didn't want him to feel as though he was some sort of pity party. I didn't know how to deal with it. "I'm gonna go get some breakfast." He said lightly, giving me a small, obviously forced, smile before heading over to the door and leaving the room, clearly not wanting to carry on that conversation any further. I missed when he used to smile, I missed when he used to be the optimistic one, the one who always saw the bright side, but now he was different. It was a long time ago, but I missed the days that the three of us used to joke around, I missed the days when Sam would actualy crack a smile now and again- I felt so bad for him, and I couldn't even begin to imagine what he was going through right now, but it all sucked. These days, Dean was the only one of the three of us who ever seemed to have any energy or hope in him. I sighed lightly and picked up my bag from one of the chairs, opening it up and pulling out my pills, making sure that Dean was still sleeping before I took out two and headed to the bathroom to wash them down the sink. I felt awful lying to him about it, but I'd only been on them a few days and already I felt more depressed than ever. Like I couldn't be bothered to go on, or care about anything. The world seemed a much darker place when I was on them, and I couldn't take that, not with the way things already were. I looked at myself in the mirror, seeing the dark circles under my own bloodshot eyes. I wasn't sleeping all that much, never grabbing more than three or four hours in a night, but that was nothing compared to Sam. His sleep was now almost non existant.

I heard the motel's door open and close as Sam came back. I headed out of the bathroom and managed to conjour up a small smile to him as he walked further inside, stopping at the end of Dean's bed, a small smirk playing on his face. "Mornin', sunshine!" He said brightly, holding up the coffee and food in his hands as he did.

Dean rolled over with a long, tired groan, still looking half asleep, his hair sticking out at odd angles. "What time is it?" He grumbled.

Sam shrugged. "Uh, it's about five forty-five." He answered lightly.

"In the morning?" He moaned, sitting up properly. "Where does the day go?" He added with mock enthusiasm as Sam took a seat on the bed facing him, passing him his coffee. I moved to sit down beside Sam, getting a light kick in the leg by Dean as I passed, picking up my own coffee from the tray. "Did you get any sleep last night?" He asked Sam, his voice becoming serious.

"Yeah, I grabbed a couple of hours." He said, his tone remaining light.

"Liar." Dean muttered. "'Cause I was up at three, and you were watching a George Foreman infomercial." He stated.

Sam smiled briefly like it wasn't a big deal. "Hey, what can I say, it's riveting TV."

Now that I thought about it, I'd been up the night before and Sam had definitely not had any sleep that night either, I didn't remember the last time I'd seen him sleep for more than an hour. "Sammy, when was the last time you got a good night's sleep?"I pressed, looking up at him in concern.

Sam shrugged. "I don't know, a little while, I guess." He looked between us and smiled. "It's not a big deal."

"Uh, yeah, it is." Dean cut in flatly.

"Look, I appreciate your concern-" Sam began.

"Oh, I'm not concerned about you." Dean said, cutting him off. "It's your job to keep our asses alive, so we need you sharp." Sam rolled his eyes at that. "Seriously," Dean continued. "-are you still having nightmares about Jess?"

"Yeah, but it's not just her, it's everything. I just forgot, you know? This job, it gets to you." I nodded slowly, I was the same as Sam when it came to that. I hunted like Dean, but I always felt it like Sam.

"You can't let it," Dean said, speaking to Sam but looking at me. "-you can't bring it home like that."

"So, what?" Sam pressed. "All this, it never keeps you up at night?" Dean shook his head nonchalantly. "Never?" He raised an eyebrow skeptically. "You're never afraid?"

Dean shook his head again. "No, not really." Sam sighed and reached under Dean's pillow, pulling out a knife and holding it up to him like it was some kind of evidence to prove his point. "That is not fear." Dean countered. "That is precaution." He said, taking back his knife.

"Alright, whatever. I'm too tired to argue."

Dean forced himself to stand up with a groan, stretching and cracking his neck as he did. "So," He began brightly. "We looking for a hunt or what?"

Sam frowned. "Are you sure we should be taking another hunt?" He pressed.

"Well, yeah, with dad disappearing and-"

"People don't just disappear, Dean." Sam cut him off. "Other people just stop looking for them." He muttered, he sounded pissed off, the way he had for at least a couple of days now. He was just growing more and more frustrated by the day, the lack of sleep making him irritable.

Dean and I looked between each other at that comment, a concerned frown forming on Dean's face. "Something you want to say, Sam?" He pressed, looking up at him expectantly.

"The trail for dad, it's getting colder everyday." He answered, his tone hard.

"Exactly." Dean agreed. "So what are we supposed to do?"

"I don't know. Something. Anything."

Dean shook his head. "You know what? I'm sick of this attitude. You don't think I wanna find Dad as much as you do?" I groaned, I was sick of listening to the same argument over and over.

"Yeah, I know you do, it's just-"

"Sam, Max and I are the ones that have been with him every single day for the past four years, while you were off at college going to pep rallies." I could hear the annoyance in his tone, building up more and more by the day. "We will find Dad," He continued, his voice now determined. "-but until then, we're gonna kill everything bad between here and there, okay? And that means getting back on the road and finding something to gank."

Sam sighed and nodded slowly. "Alright, fine. Let's hit the road then." He muttered, also getting to his feet, an impatient frown on his face.

Within the next fifteen minutes, the three of us were in the Impala, none of us any idea where Dean was supposed to be driving to. I stared blankly at the newspaper on my lap, the words all merging together and becoming a blur to me. I sat like that for a while, not sure how much time had passed, until Dean finally broke the long silence surrounding us. "Sam's sleeping, finally." He muttered, glancing back at him through the rearview mirror. I looked over my shoulder at him, his head was rested against the window, he'd been fighting off sleep for days, and I didn't understand why. The nightmares were the only thing I could put it down to, as though he was afraid of them. "You think he'll be alright?"

I could see it now, hear it in his voice, Dean was starting to get seriously worried about him. He wasn't acting like himself, he was exhausted and he was refusing to talk about it. "Sure he will." I answered quietly. "I guess he just needs some time to deal with it. Can't be an easy thing to get over, right?"

"Yeah." Dean mumbled, returning his gaze to the road.

I sighed and looked back to the newspaper on my lap, skimming through a couple of obituaries. "Hey, what about this- a guy found dead in his bathroom up in Ohio, looks pretty spooky."

"Huh, better than nothing, I guess." He said lightly. "Ohio, it is."

I smiled slightly and placed the newspaper down between us, looking out of the window ahead, thinking back to just a few weeks ago when I'd been sitting in the same seat, Dean in the driving seat and Dad up ahead of us in his own truck. Sometimes I thought I'd been happier back then, like even though I'd missed Sam like hell, at least I'd known that he was safe, that he was happy. And I'd have given anything for him not to be going through the pain he was suffering through now. But at the same time, whether we were slightly dysfunctional or not, I'd missed having both of my brothers around.

Impala, Toledo, Ohio, 11:27AM.

Dean pulled over the Impala into a parking space outside of the morgue building, sighing as he turned to the backseat where Sam was still sleeping. He was mumbling slightly under his breath, a small frown on his face. "Sam." Dean pressed, getting no response. "Sammy.. Sam, wake up!"

Sam startled awake, looking around the car in confusion for a couple of seconds before letting out a deep breath and turning his attention towards us. "I take it I was having a nightmare?" He asked, already knowing the answer.

"Yeah," Dean answered, concern clear in his tone. "-another one."

"Hey, at least I got some sleep." Sam countered lightly.

"You know, sooner or later we're gonna have to talk about this." He muttered.

Sam sighed lightly, looking out of the window, avoiding answering his question. "Where are we?"

"This is, Toledo, Ohio." Dean announced brightly as I passed the newspaper over the backseat to Sam, pointing at one of the obituaries.

Sam skimmed over the article and nodded. "So, what do you think happened to this guy?" He asked curiously.

"That's what we're gonna find out." Dean said, opening the car door. "Let's go."

Sam and I followed his lead, climbing out of the Impala and following him over the street towards the building. We headed into the morgue, Dean at the front and Sam and me behind him. There was a guy sitting behind one of the two desks in the room, watching us curiously as we headed inside. "Hey." He said, looking between the three of us. "Can I help you?" He asked.

"Hey." Dean smiled, glancing over towards the other desk for a second before looking back to him. "We're the, uh.. med students."

The guy raised an eyebrow at us, clearly confused. "Sorry?"

"Oh, doctor-" Dean stumbled over the name. "-Figlavitch, didn't tell you? We talked to him on the phone. He, uh, we're from Ohio State." He wasn't even sounding convincing to himself, never mind to the guy he was talking to. "He's supposed to show us the Shoemaker corpse. It's for our paper."

The guy frowned, nodding slowly. "Well, I'm sorry, he's at lunch."

"Oh, well, he said, uh-" He paused, looking lost for an excuse. "-oh well, you know, it doesn't matter. You don't mind just showing us the body, do you?"

"Sorry, I can't." He muttered. "Doc will be back in an hour, you can wait for him if you want."

"An hour? We gotta be heading back to Columbus by then." Dean said looking back at me and Sam for some kind of reaction. We both nodded slowly, like that made us look any more convincing.

"Yeah." Sam said lamely, earning us nothing but an eye roll and one of those 'you'll never make it in Hollywood' looks from Dean as he turned back to the guy, forcing up a smile. He looked like he wanted to rip the guy's head off.

"Uh, look man, this paper's like half our grade, so if you don't mind helping us out-"

"Oh, look man, no." He cut him off.

Dean let out a small laugh, turning away from him for a second. "I'm gonna hit him in his face, I swear." He mumbled.

Sam hit Dean on the arm, stepping in before he got even more annoyed than he already was. He pulled out his wallet and opened it up, dropping a few twenties onto the desk in front of us. The guy looked at the money, and then to Sam, before picking it up quickly and getting to his feet. "Follow me." He said brightly, heading towards the door of the room.

Dean grabbed Sam around the arm before he had a chance to follow him. "Dude, I earned that money." He complained.

Sam shook his head. "You won it in a poker game." He countered.

Dean held out his arms and frowned. "Yeah?"

Sam rolled his eyes and followed the guy out of the room. We headed into the next room where he pulled out one of the bodies, pulling back the white sheet covering it and setting it just below his neck. "The newspaper said his daughter found him?" Sam stated. "She said his eyes were bleeding?"

The guy placed the sheet back over the body. "More than that, they practically liquefied."

"Any sign of a struggle?" Sam asked him, a curious frown on his face. "Maybe somebody did it to him?"

"Nope. Besides the daughter, he was all alone."

"What's the official cause of death?" I questioned.

"Ah, Doc's not sure. He's thinking massive stroke, maybe an aneurysm? Something burst up in there, that's for sure."

Sam tilted his head to the side slightly. "What do you mean?"

"Intense cerebral bleeding. This guy had more blood in his skull than anyone I've ever seen."

"That's gross." Dean muttered under his breath.

The guy frowned at him. "What?"

"I said, what could cause something like that?"

He narrowed his eyes at him. "Capillaries can burst. See a lot of bloodshot eyes with stroke victims." He continued.

"Yeah? You ever see exploding eyeballs? Dean asked.

"That's a first for me, but hey, I'm not the doctor.

Sam nodded at him. "Hey, think we could take a look at that police report?" Dean asked lightly. "You know for, uh.. our paper.

The guy shook his head, eyeing Sam. "I'm not really supposed to show you that." Sam shook his head at him and pulled out his wallet, annoyance now showing clearly on his face as he handed him some more money. "Wait here." The guy muttered, turning towards the door.

Ten minutes later, we headed out of the morgue, making our way down the stairs to the exit. "Might not be one of ours." Sam suggested. "Might just be a freak medical thing."

Dean shook his head. "How many times in Dad's long and varied career has it actually ever been a freak medical thing and not some sign of an awful supernatural death?"

"Uh, almost never."

"Exactly."

"Alright, let's go talk to the daughter." Dean and I both nodded as we walked out onto the bright street, wandering over to the Impala.

Shoemaker House, 12:45PM.

The three of us walked into the house casually, attempting not to look suspicious or draw any unneccessary attention to ourselves. I looked around at the people there, everyone dressed smartly, before glancing down at my black jeans and scruffy boots, feeling a little guilty that we hadn't bothered to put something more appropriate on. Dean walked on ahead of me and paused, looking around. "Feel like we're underdressed." He commented, not sounding at all bothered by it. We headed towards the back of the house, looking for someone that could be the dead guy's daughter.

I stopped in the hallway, looking up at one of the pictures on the wall, the dead guy we'd just seen at the morgue with his wife and two daughters. "Must be horrible for them." I said quietly, more to myself than to anyone else. Dean stood behind me, nodding slowly.

"Yeah." He rested a hand on my shoulder for a second as I turned back to face him. "Maxie, we're gonna find Dad, alright? You need to stop worrying about him, he's probably just fine." His voice was soft, not loud enough that anyone else would be able to hear him. I could see he knew what was going through my head, and I didn't mean for it, I just couldn't help but think the worst about dad, and that terrified me. But I couldn't seem to tell Dean outright what I thought, afraid of saying it out loud, as if that would make it any more true.

"Hey." I nodded over at where Sam was standing outside, talking to one of the guys by the door. We headed towards him just as the man pointed over to the other side of the garden, where the two daughters and another two girls were sitting. We walked towards them, getting a wary look from one of her friends as we approached.

"Hey, you must be Donna, right?" Dean asked, looking down at the girl sitting in the middle.

She looked between us and nodded. "Yeah."

"Hi, uh- we're really sorry." Sam said softly, a sympathetic frown on his face.

Donna forced up a smile to us. "Thank you."

"I'm Sam, this is Max and Dean." He said, pointing between us. "We worked with your dad."

Donna glanced up at her friend, then back to us, looking a little skeptical. "You did?" She pressed.

"Yeah, this whole thing.. I mean, a stroke." Dean continued.

"I don't think she really wants to talk about this right now." One of her friends said to him.

Donna shook her head. "It's okay, I'm okay."

"Were there any symptoms? Dizziness? Migraines?" Dean pressed.

Donna shook her head again. "No."

The young girl beside her turned around and looked at us. "That's because it wasn't a stroke." She stated, sounding all too convinced by her words.

"Lily, don't say that." Donna said, looking a little hurt.

"What?" Sam asked.

"I'm sorry, she's just upset."

"No, it happened because of me." The girl insisted.

"Sweetie, it didn't."

Dean elbowed me lightly in the ribs, nodding down at her. I sighed at him, always left the emotional work to me. I crouched down so that I was eye level with her. "Lily, why would you say something like that?" I pressed, keeping my voice gentle.

"Right before he died, I said it."

"You said what?"

"Bloody Mary, three times in the bathroom mirror." I paused, not sure of how to answer that. "She took his eyes, that's what she does."

"That's not why Dad died, this isn't your fault." Her sister assured her.

"I think your sister's right, Lily. There's no way it could have been Bloody Mary. Your dad didn't say it, did he?" Dean pressed.

Lily shook her head slowly. "No, I don't think so."

I nodded slowly, looking back to her. "Hey, trust me, honey, this wasn't your fault, okay?"

Lily gave a small nod, not looking at all convinced. I stood up and looked from Sam to Dean, Donna giving me a small smile before we turned away from her and headed back towards the house. "What are we supposed to do now?" Sam muttered. "I mean, if this is Bloody Mary then-"

"Then we need to get up to the bathroom and check that mirror." Dean finished.

Sam and I both nodded, following him back into the house and heading upstairs to the bathroom. Sam went first, pushing open the door, revealing the faded stain of blood on the tiled floor. "The Bloody Mary legend, Dad ever find any evidence that it was a real thing?" Sam asked.

Dean and I both shrugged. "Not that I know of." He said quietly.

"I mean, everywhere else all over the county, kids will play Bloody Mary, and as far as we know, nobody dies from it."

"Yeah, but maybe everywhere else it's just a story-" I suggested. "-but here it's actually happening?"

"The place where the legend began?"

Dean shrugged and opened up the medicine cabinet, looking through it. "But according to the legend, the person who says Blo-"

"Don't." I cut him off simply. Sam looked at me as I shook my head.

He looked back to the medicine cabinet mirror which now faced him and closed it. "The person who says, you know what, gets it, but here-"

"Shoemaker gets it instead, yeah." Dean finished for him. "Never heard anything like that before. Still, the guy did die right in front of the mirror, and the daughter's right. The way the legend goes, you know who scratches your eyes out."

Sam nodded. "It's worth checking in to."

We walked out of the bathroom, out onto the hallway where one of Donna's friends from outside was standing. She looked between the three of us and frowned. "What are you doing up here?"

"We, uh, we- we, had to go to the bathroom." Dean said lamely.

I looked up at him in disbelief and shook my head. "What the hell, Dean?" He gave an innocent shrug before looking back to her.

"Who are you?" She asked, her tone defensive.

"Like we said downstairs, we worked with Donna's dad-"

"He was a day trader or something." She cut him off. "He worked by himself."

"No, I know, I meant-"

"And all those weird questions downstairs, what was that? So you tell me what's going on, or I start screaming."

Dean scoffed at that, not looking remotely phased by her threat. "Alright, alright," Sam began calmly. "-we think something happened to Donna's dad."

"Yeah, a stroke."

"That's not a sign of a typical stroke." He said, looking down at the blood still staining the floor. "We think it might be something else."

The girl frowned at us. "Like what?"

"Honestly? We don't know yet. But we don't want it to happen to anyone else. That's the truth."

"So, if you're gonna scream, go right ahead." Dean challenged her.

"Who are you, cops?"

Sam looked over his shoulder to us. "Something like that." I muttered.

"I'll tell you what. Here." Sam reached into his pocket and pulled out some paper and a pen, writing down his cell phone number. "If you think of anything, you or your friends notice anything strange, out of the ordinary.. just give us a call." He handed her the small scrap of paper before the three of us walked away down the hallway and back downstairs.

Library, 02:38PM.

After grabbing some food, the three of us headed to the local library. It was pretty dark inside for the time of day, making the whole task ahead of us seem even more depressing than it already did. "Alright," Dean began, looking around slowly. "-so, say Bloody Mary really is haunting this town, there's gonna be some sort or proof, like a local woman who died nasty?"

"Yeah, but a legend this widespread it's hard. I mean, there's like fifty versions of who she actually is." Sam explained as we walked further inside. "One story says she's a witch, another says she's a mutilated bride, there's a lot more."

"Okay, so what are we supposed to be looking for?" I asked him.

"Well, every version's got a few things in common. It's always a woman named Mary, and she always dies right in front of a mirror. So we've gotta search local newspapers- public records as far back as they go. See if we can find a Mary who fits the bill."

"Well, that sounds annoying." Dean commented.

"No it won't be so bad, as long as we-" Sam paused as his eyes fell to the computers, all with notes on saying out of order. He let out a slight chuckle and sighed. "I take it back, this will be very annoying."

Motel Room, 11:34PM.

After a whole day of research, and finding out absolutely nothing, then grabbing some food at the diner down the street, we finally arrived back to the motel room. "I swear to god, I've never been so tired in my life." I muttered as we walked back into the room, pulling off my jacket and dropping it onto the back of one of the chairs.

"Yeah," Dean agreed. "-I hear ya. Sam, how did you do that all day, every day, for four freakin' years, man?"

Sam only laughed, rolling his eyes at us. "I'm gonna crash." I said, dropping down onto one of the beds. I glanced up at Sam and smiled slightly. "You gonna get some sleep, bro?"

"Uh, yeah." He nodded. "I'm gonna have a shower first." He said with a small smile before heading to the bathroom and closing the door behind himself.

I sighed and looked up at Dean. "He'll be alright, Max, don't worry about him." He assured.

"Don't worry about him?" I repeated, raising an eyebrow. "Dean, he hasn't slept properly in days."

"Yeah, I know that." He sighed and took a seat on the bed beside me. "But neither have you."

"Dean-"

"Dammit, Maxie, you think I can't see it, don't you? You seriously think after all these years you can still keep this crap to yourself. You're exhausted, you're spending so much time worrying about Sam, and worrying about Dad- you need to worry about yourself."

"I thought that's what I had you here for." I said lightly.

Dean smiled at that, shaking his head at me. "Just, get some sleep, okay? I'll watch Sam." I nodded slowly, pulling off my boots and climbing into one of the beds, not bothering to change my clothes, falling asleep almost instantly.

Motel Room, 10:01AM.

I woke up the next morning, not remembering the last time I'd managed to sleep through the entire night. I slowly sat up and looked over at where Dean was sitting at the table, a bunch of papers in front of him. I glanced over to my left where Sam was sleeping on one of the beds. I climbed out of bed and dragged my feet over to Dean, dropping into the chair opposite his. "Morning." He said lightly.

"What are you doing?" I asked, looking over the pile of research in front of him.

"Still looking for something on this Mary chick, haven't found anything so far." He answered, reaching out for his half empty cup of coffee sitting front of him and placing it down in front of me with a slight smirk. "Maxie, you look like a freakin' zombie."

"Bite me." I paused and looked down at my watch, taking a drink. "How long you been at this?"

"Uh, couple of hours, started when he fell asleep."

I looked over at Sam and frowned. "Wait, you mean he didn't sleep all night?"

"No, don't think so. I fell asleep about two, he was still up then, and when I woke up at about seven, he was still on his laptop doing whatever it is that he does- he fell asleep about two hours ago."

I shook my head and sighed, rubbing my eyes with the backs of my hands. "You want some help with this?"

Before he had a chance to answer, Sam suddenly woke up, staring up at the ceiling for a few seconds before he even moved. "Why'd you let me fall asleep?" He mumbled, looking over at Dean.

"Because I'm an awesome brother." He muttered in reply. "So, what did you dream about?"

"Lollipops and candy canes." Sam answered sarcastically.

"Yeah, sure."

He sighed heavily and shook his head. "Did you find anything?"

"Oh, besides a whole new level of frustration?" Sam sat up slowly and looked between us. "No, I've looked at everything. A few local women, a Laura and a Catherine committed suicide in front of a mirror- and a giant mirror fell on a guy named Dave, but uh, no Mary."

Sam fell back down to the bed. "Maybe we just haven't found it yet." He said glumly, his voice quiet.

"I've also been searching for strange deaths in the area, you know.. eyeball bleeding, that sort of thing. There's nothing. Whatever's happening here, maybe it just ain't Mary."

Sam shrugged, looking over at the table as his phone rang. He reached for it and held it to his ear. "Hello?" He answered. He listened for a few second before a concerned frown formed on his face as he sat up and looked between us.

Park, 10:57AM.

We climbed out of the Impala, crossing the street towards where Charlie was sitting on a bench facing us. She looked upset, like she'd been crying. I took a seat beside her, resting an arm around her shoulders as a couple of tears fell down her cheeks. "Hey, what's wrong?" I asked quietly as Dean took a seat on the back of the bench, looking down at us while Sam stood in front of us.

Charlie shook her head slowly, taking a couple of minutes before she found an answer. "Jill's dead." She paused and let out a small sob. "And, they found her on the bathroom floor.. And her- her eyes.. They were gone." She cried.

"I'm sorry." Sam said softly.

"She said it." I looked up at Sam and Dean. "I heard her say it, but it couldn't be because of that.. I'm insane, right?"

"No, you're not insane." Dean said.

"Oh God, that makes me feel so much worse."

"Look. We think something's happening here." Sam said quietly. "Something that can't be explained."

"And we're gonna stop it but we could use your help." Dean added.

"What can I do?" She asked.

"We need to see your friend's room, you think you can get us in?" Sam pressed.

Charlie nodded and got to her feet, wiping her cheeks with her sleeves and clearing her throat. "Sure."

Jill's Room, 12:32PM.

We climbed through the bedroom window to Jill's house as Charlie opened it for us, standing in the room and looking around. Dean threw Sam his duffel bag before he climbed inside too, closing the window after himself. Sam placed it down on the bed before opening it and beginning to look through it. "What did you tell Jill's mom?" He asked her casually.

"Just that I needed some time alone with Jill's pictures and things." Sam pulled out a camera while Dean closed the curtains. "I hate lying to her."

"Trust us, this is for the greater good." Dean said with a smile. "Hit the lights." I headed over towards the door and flipped the switch.

"What are you guys looking for?"

"We'll let you know as soon as we find it." Dean muttered. Sam turned on the digital camera in his hand, flipping on the night vision. Dean looked back at it and smirked. "Do I look like Paris Hilton?"

I laughed and shook my head at him, watching over Sam's shoulder as he filmed around the mirror. "I don't get it. I mean.. the first victim didn't summon Mary, and the second victim did. How's she choosing them?" I muttered.

"Beats me." Dean said as Sam headed into the bathroom, filming around the mirror in there. Dean turned to Charlie, his face hard. "I want to know why Jill said it in the first place."

"It's just a joke."

"Yeah well somebody's gonna say it again, it's just a matter of time."

"Hey." Sam stuck his head around the door, a frown on his face. "There's a black light in the trunk, right?"

Dean nodded and pulled out his keys, throwing them to me. "You go." He smirked.

"You're so friggin' lazy, you know that?" I muttered, opening the window and climbing down to the car.

When I came back, Dean and Sam had moved the bathroom mirror onto Jill's bed, turning it upside down. I tossed Sam the blacklight as he peeled off the brown paper on the back of this mirror. He shone the light over the back of the it, revealing a hand print and the name 'Gary Bryman'.

"Gary Bryman?" Charlie read.

"You know that name?" Sam asked her. She just shook her head. "Alright, I think we need to head back to the library, find out who he is, or was." Dean and I nodded.

We headed back out to the car, me driving with Charlie beside me, and Sam and Dean in the backseat. I pulled over beside the library and turned off the engine. "Alright, you two stay here, won't be long." Dean muttered before he and Sam climbed out of the car, heading up the steps to the door.

Charlie watched them until they were out of sight, turning back to face ahead out of the window. "How do you three know about all of this?" She asked, her voice still quiet.

I didn't say anything for a few seconds as I thought of an answer. "Uh, this is kinda what we do." I replied, looking up at her and giving a small smile.

"This is your job?" I nodded slowly. "How did you get into it?"

"Our dad did it, so we grew up in it.. Kinda what we were raised to do, I guess."

"Your dad?" She repeated. "So, both Sam and Dean are your brothers, right?"

I laughed, seeing she'd been wondering that for the half hour, most people did. "Yeah, you'd be amazed how many people seem to think that we're like a couple or something."

"Well, they are cute." She laughed. "Isn't it hard, doing this all the time? I mean, you must see some pretty awful things."

"Sometimes, but I don't think that I'd want to do anything else, ya know? Even if I had the choice."

"You don't have a choice?"

I thought about it for a minute, thinking about Sam and Jess. "Not really." I said quietly. "Once you're in, there's not really a getting out- not forever anyway."

I looked up as Sam and Dean climbed into the backseat, me and Charlie turning around to face them. "So, Gary Bryman was an 8-year-old boy. Two years ago he was killed in a hit and run. The car was described as a black Toyota Camry. But nobody got the plates or saw the driver." Sam explained.

"Oh my god." Charlie said slowly.

"What?" Sam pressed.

"Jill drove that car."

I looked between them slowly. "We need to get back to your friend Donna's house." I said to Charlie.

"Or, Sam, you take Charlie and do that, Max and I can go find out who this Mary chick really is before anyone else looses their eyeballs."

"Right." I said, pulling out and heading back to the motel room.

Motel Room, 12:55PM.

I looked up from the laptop as Sam headed into the motel room. "You find anything good?" Dean asked him as he closed the door and dropped into the seat opposite mine.

"Uh, well, the bathroom mirror had the same hand print on the back, as well as the name, Linda Shoemaker, Donna's mom."

I frowned, thinking it over. "Wait, so her dad killed her? That what you're thinking?"

"I dunno, maybe." Sam shrugged. "What've you guys got?"

"Uh, we're now in the middle of a nationwide search." I said with mock enthusiasm.

"Nationwide?" Sam repeated, raising his eyebrows.

"Yep." Dean cut in. "The NCIC, the FBI database- at this point any Mary who died in front of a mirror is good enough for me."

"But if she's haunting the town, she should have died in the town." Sam stated.

"I'm telling you there's nothing local, I've checked. So unless you got a better idea-"

"The way Mary's choosing her victims, it seems like there's a pattern."

Dean nodded. "I know, we were thinking the same thing.."

"With Mr Shoemaker and Jill's hit and run.." Sam carried on.

"Both had secrets where people died." I finished.

"Right. I mean there's a lot of folklore about mirrors-that they reveal all your lies, all your secrets, that they're a true reflection of your soul, which is why it's bad luck to break them."

"Right, right. So maybe if you've got a secret, I mean like a really nasty one where someone died, then Mary sees it, and punishes you for it."

"Whether you're the one that summoned her or not."

"Hey, uh, Maxie found something." Dean picked up a piece of paper and handed it to Sam. There was a picture of a woman lying in front of a mirror in a pool of her own blood. He handed him another one, this time of a handprint and the letters 'Tre' written on the mirror beside her.

"Looks like the same hand print." Sam muttered.

"Her name was Mary Worthington- an unsolved murder in Fort Wayne, Indiana." Dean continued. "It's only a couple of hours drive from here, I say we grab some food and we head out."

Sam nodded. "Alright, sounds like a plan, see what we can find out."

"You two go ahead, I'm gonna go see Charlie." I said, picking up my jacket and pulling it on.

"You sure?" Dean frowned.

"Uh-huh."

"Alright, we'll drop you off there on the way. Be careful, you hear me?"

I smirked and nodded at him. "Always am."

Charlie's House, 02:15PM.

I climbed out of the Impala and watched as Dean drove away, turning towards the house in front of me and heading over to the door. I knocked lightly, waiting a couple of minutes before knocking again. "Hey, Charlie, it's Max, you in there?" I banged on the door again. "Charlie?!"

She came to the door a couple of minutes later, her eyes red from crying. "What's going on? Are you okay?"

"I saw her." I frowned before I realised what she meant.

"Oh, god, okay." I nodded slowly. "You need to come with me, you've got a car right?" Charlie nodded and headed back into the house, handing me her car keys.

I drove her to the motel, her eyes closed the entire time, refusing to look at anything. "Aright, come on." I said as I pulled up outside the motel, climbing out of the car with her and leading the way to the room.

Charlie sat down in the middle of the bed, her head buried in her knees while I covered up everything inside the room that gave off any kind of reflection. I moved to sit beside her and placed an arm around her shoulders. "Hey, hey, it's okay." I said quietly. "You can open up your eyes, Charlie, it's okay." She looked up slowly, glancing around the room before looking back to me. "Listen to me, you stay right here and don't look at anything, okay, no glass, nothing with a reflection- she can't get you, okay? As long as you do that, nothing is going to happen to you."

"But I can't keep that up forever." She whispered, as tears fell down her cheeks. "I'm gonna die, aren't I?"

"No, you're not. Not anytime soon. Okay, Sam and Dean are finding out what happened, and as soon as they're back we can fix this and it'll all be okay, trust me."

Charlie looked up at me. "Why is she after me?" She asked quietly. "What did I do?"

I paused for a couple of seconds. "Charlie, something happened to you, didn't it? You've got a secret, where somebody got hurt."

She opened and closed her mouth, going still as she obviously realised what I meant. "I had this boyfriend." She began, looking down at her lap as she spoke. "I loved him. But he kind of scared me too, you know? And one night, at his house, we got in this fight.. Then I broke up with him, and he got upset, and he said he needed me and he loved me, and he said 'Charlie, if you walk out that door right now, I'm gonna kill myself.' And you know what I said? I said 'Go ahead.' And I left. How could I say that? How could I leave him like that? I just.. I didn't believe him, you know? I should have." She returned her face to her knees and began crying again.

I sighed sadly and shook my head, rubbing a hand up and down her back."Charlie, hey, come on, that's not your fault."

"I'm pathetic, I mean, you three face this stuff everyday-"

"What, you think it doesn't scare me? Of course it does." I looked down for a second, taking a breath. This was stuff I never said to my brothers. I never had any girlfriends, never long enough that I trusted them- but I trusted her. "Charlie, this life scares the hell out of me. Dean thinks that it depresses me."

Charlie looked up at me, a soft frown on her face. "Does it?"

"I don't know anymore.. I mean, I thought at first that it was all just a bad few weeks, and then I somehow ended up on these anti depressant things- but now, even when I don't take them, I feel like I there's this weight.. I don't really know how to explain it. But Dean's just so insistent that I take them, and I'm honestly tired of fighting about it. But they make me feel so low, and not like myself.."

"Max, look, I'm no expert, but I don't think having a job like this is supposed to be easy, right? I mean, it's obviously gonna be hard."

I nodded slowly. "Yeah, I hadn't thought about it that way."

"Can I ask, why do you do it? I mean, what are you aiming for?"

I didn't know how to answer that. I shook my head before realising,what everything seemed to be about, the only thing on my mind right now. "We're looking for our dad. He, uh, he disappeared and.." I trailed off, shaking my head.

"When did he disappear?" She asked softly.

"A few weeks ago, he just took a job and- he never called, we haven't heard from him since.. And I haven't told Sam and Dean but, I'm starting to think maybe.." I felt a tear roll down my cheek, my voice cracked slightly. "I always thought that he was invincible, and I was so sure that we'd find him but honestly, we're running out of places to look, and I'm starting to think-." I stopped and ran a hand over my face, wiping away the tears and forcing up a smile.

"Well, if he's anything like you and your brothers, I'm sure he's fine."

"Thanks."

Motel Room, 08:45PM.

We stayed in the motel room for the rest of the day, just talking to each other. Charlie jumped at the sound of banging on the motel door, followed by Dean's voice. "Maxie, it's us." He called. "Open up."

I got to my feet and pulled open the door for them, turning to face them as they entered. "Alright," Dean began. "-we're gonna smash her mirror, we know where it is."

"I'm coming with you." I said before he had a chance to propose anything different.

"Max-"

"I'm coming with you." I said again, looking up at him seriously.

He sighed and nodded. "Alright, Charlie, just sit tight, okay? Don't do anything until we get back, you're gonna be fine." Sam said softly. Charlie nodded at him slowly as we turned and headed out of the motel room, closing the door behind us and heading towards the Impala.

I climbed into the backseat of the car and sighed lightly as Dean started the engine. "So, did you find out what she'd done?" Dean asked, glancing at me through the rear view mirror.

"Uh, she had a boyfriend that killed himself, she says that's what her secret is."

"Killed himself?" Dean repeated. "Her boyfriend killing himself, that's not really Charlie's fault."

"Hey, you know as well as I do spirits don't exactly see shades of gray, Dean." Sam said. "If Charlie had a secret and someone died, that's good enough for Mary."

"I guess." He muttered.

"What did you guys find out?" I asked.

"The chick who died- they gave the mirror back to her family, it's in this store at the other side of town." Dean said casually.

"So, what's the plan? Smash the mirror and hope she just goes away?"

"Pretty much."

"You know, I've been thinking," Sam began. "It might not be enough to just smash that mirror."

"Why, what do you mean?"

"Well Mary's hard to pin down, right? I mean she moves around from mirror to mirror so who's to say that she's not just gonna keep hiding in them forever? So maybe we should try to pin her down, you know, summon her to her mirror and then smash it."

"Well how do you know that's going to work?"

"I don't, not for sure."

I paused and frowned. "Well who's gonna summon her?"

"I will." Sam answered quietly. "She'll come after me."

"You know what, that's it." Dean pulled the car over, now looking annoyed. "This is about Jessica, isn't it? You think that's your dirty little secret that you killed her somehow? Sam, this has got to stop, man. I mean, the nightmares and calling her name out in the middle of the night- it's gonna kill you. Now listen to me- It wasn't your fault. If you wanna blame something, then blame the thing that killed her. Or hell, why don't you take a swing at me? I mean I'm the one that dragged you away from her in the first place."

"I don't blame you."

"Well you shouldn't blame yourself, because there's nothing you could've done."

"I could've warned her."

"About what? You didn't know what was gonna happen! And besides, all of this isn't a secret, I mean, Max and I know all about it. It's not gonna work with Mary anyway."

"No you don't."

"I don't what?"

"You don't know all about it. I haven't told you everything."

"What are you talking about?" I asked him quietly, sharing a worried look with Dean.

"Well it wouldn't really be a secret if I told you, would it?"

Dean looked slightly taken aback by that. "No. I don't like it. It's not gonna happen, forget it."

"Dean that girl back there is going to die unless we do something about it. And you know what? Who knows how many more people are gonna die after that? Now we're doing this. You've got to let me do this." He shook his head and started the car, looking anything but happy about it.

Store, 09:15PM.

We climbed out of the Impala and headed over to the store, Sam crouching down in front of the door to pick the lock. One it opened, he pushed the door open and walked inside, followed by me and Dean. "Well," Dean began as we looked around the store, there were mirrors everywhere. "-that's just great." He pulled the picture of the mirror from his pocket and sighed. "Alright, let's start looking."

We split up and headed off in different directions. "Maybe they already sold it?" I muttered, looking around the dusty aisles.

"I don't think so." Sam's voice came from somewhere behind me. I turned and headed back to him, along with Dean. He was standing in front of the mirror, a determined look on his face.

"That's it." Dean sighed. "You sure about this?"

Sam nodded slowly, letting out a deep breath before looking straight at the mirror. "Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary-" He paused and looked back at us for a second. "Bloody Mary."

We all turned as a bright light shone through the store, coming from outside. "I'll go check that out." Dean muttered, handing me the crowbar in his hand. "Stay here, anything moves, you smash it." He said, making his way over to the door.

I jumped at the sound of glass breaking behind me, turning sharply to see Sam standing beside a smashed mirror. I looked to my left, seeing her standing in another one, lifting the crowbar and smashing it. He looked back to her mirror. "Come on." He muttered under his breath. "Come into this one."

Nothing happened for a couple of minutes. "Take a look around." Sam said quietly, nodding towards the back of the store.

"It's your fault. You killed her, you killed Jessica." I heard Sam say. I turned back at the sound of his voice, it didn't sound like Sam. He sounded angry and cold. "You never told her the truth, who you really were. But it's more than that, isn't it?" I frowned, my grip tightening on the crowbar as I headed back to him. "Those nightmares you've been having of Jessica dying, screaming, burning- you had them for days before she died, didn't you?!" I froze at that, listening for a second, not sure I'd heard right. "You were so desperate to ignore them, to believe they were just dreams. How could you ignore them like that? How could you leave her alone to die!? You dreamt it would happen!" I snapped back into reality as I heard Sam groan in pain, coming up behind him and seeing him on his knees in front of the mirror, his own reflection glaring down at him. His face was covered in blood, the pain clear in his eyes. I ran forwards and smashed the mirror, just as I heard Dean running back into the store, both of us dropping to our knees beside him.

"Sam?" Dean pressed. "Sammy?!"

"It's Sam." He murmured.

I breathed a sigh of relief, wiping the blood from his face. "My god, are you okay?"

"Uh, yeah." He mumbled, giving a small nod.

"Come on, come on." Dean and I pulled Sam to his feet, each throwing one of his arms around our shoulders. We began walking, stopping at the sound of glass crunching behind us. We turned slowly, seeing Mary crawling out of the mirror to the floor. She walked towards us, all of us falling to the floor in front of her. I could feel the burning in my eyes, liquid running down my cheeks that I knew wasn't water. I saw Dean grab one of the mirrors from beside himself, holding it up in front of her to show her the reflection of herself.

"You killed them. All those people. You killed them." She began choking before she melted into a pile of blood. Dean threw the mirror down letting it shatter on the floor.

"Hey, guys?" We both looked at him. "This has got to be like...what? Six hundred years of bad luck?"

I laughed weakly, pushing myself up to my feet and following Sam and Dean towards the door.

Impala, 10:24PM.

Dean pulled up the car outside Charlie's house, turning off the engine and turning back to look at her. "So this is really over?" She asked quietly, still looking unsure.

Dean nodded. "Yeah, it's over."

"Thank you." She whispered, reaching out to shake Dean's hand with a small smile. She turned to me and placed her arms around me, hugging me tightly. "Give me a call sometime, yeah?"

"Sure." I said, pulling back and smiling at her. "I'll see you around."

She nodded and climbed out of the car, walking away. "Charlie?" Sam called after her. She turned to face him. "Your boyfriend's death.. you really should try to forgive yourself. No matter what you did, you probably couldn't have stopped it. Sometimes bad things just happen." She smiled faintly before turning back around to her house.

Dean hit Sam gently and nodded. "That's good advice." He said as he started the car, taking off down the street. "Hey, Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"Now that this is all over, I want you to tell us what that secret is." Dean pressed, glancing up at him for a second.

"Look, guys, you're my family, you know, and I'd die for you- but there are some things I need to keep to myself." He looked out of the window and frowned at something, I wasn't sure what, before turning back to look out of the window ahead, not saying anything else.

I sat back in my seat and watched him closely, thinking back to what the Sam in the mirror had said to him. 'you had them for days before she died, didn't you?'

Whatever that meant, I was guessing that if it was true, it wasn't going to be a good thing..

I know that I skipped a couple of episodes, but to be honest I think that there are some episodes that are hard to put her into without making it exactly the same as the original episode, if you get me? Aw, and I love that Max had someone to talk to about her problems. :) Okay, thank you so so so so so so so much for taking the time to read, I know they're long chapters and it means the world that you actually take out the time to read them all! Also, thank you so much for the reviews and follows and favorites, you all make my day! And as always, if there's anything you want to specifically see, or anything you want to know about her, or any oneshot you fancy, just PM me and let me know!
Thanks again guys, you're all amazing! Hope you enjoyed! :-) :-)