Disclaimer- I do not own Supernatural or any of its characters.
Chapter 20 is up!
Thanks to everyone who reviewed!
I just love Bloody Mary, so here it is!
Chapter name borrowed from the band 'The Used'.
On with it, shall we?
CHAPTER TWENTY- LET IT BLEED
"This is your next case, Dean. I believe it is in the place you call Toledo, Ohio."
"Damn it, Castiel! We can find our own hunts!" Dean's face was reddening rapidly.
Sam tried to placate him. "C'mon, Dean, there might be people in trouble. Do you want to let them die?"
That was how we found ourselves in the Toledo morgue, trying to view Steven Shoemaker's body.
The attendant was unwilling, to say the least.
"Why do you want to see the poor guy, anyway?"
Dean indicated himself and Sam. " We're the uh… med students, our professor wanted us to see Shoemaker's corpse, its part of our paper."
Sam stealthily slipped some money onto the table.
"What about her?"
He jerked his head towards me.
Dean muttered a curse under his breath, and I flinched.
Sam stepped in. "We're sort of responsible for her, which is why she's with us. Odette won't cause you any trouble, I swear."
He slyly slipped another note from Dean's wallet onto the table, ignoring his glare.
"Well, if you're sure. Can't do any harm, I suppose."
"Follow me." The morgue tech got up and left.
Dean scowled at Sam.
"Dude, I earned that money."
Sam stared at him incredulously. "You won it in a poker game."
"So?"
Sam followed the attendant, and I hurried after him, not wanting to be left alone with Dean.
~Supernatural~
"Now, the newspaper said his daughter found him. She said his eyes were bleeding." Sam was quizzing the tech thoroughly.
He pulled back the sheet over Steven's face, and I felt the bile rise in my throat. I coughed to cover it up.
"More than that. They practically liquefied."
Dean frowned. "Any sign of a struggle? Maybe somebody did it to him?"
"Nope. Besides the daughter, he was all alone."
"What's the official cause of death?" Sam was chewing his lip, perplexed.
"Ah, Doc's not sure. He's thinking massive stroke, maybe an aneurysm? Something burst up in there, that's for sure."
"What do you mean?" Sam's face looked even more confused.
"Intense cerebral bleeding. This guy had more blood in his skull than anyone I've ever seen."
"The eyes and stuff, what would cause something like that?"
"Capillaries can burst. You see a lot of bloodshot eyes with stroke victims."
"Yeah? You ever see exploding eyeballs?" I tried to curb my nausea at Dean's statement.
"That's a first for me, but hey, I'm not the doctor."
"Hey, think we could take a look at that police report? You know for, uh….our paper." Dean covered his minor slip-up easily.
"I'm not really supposed to show you that."
Sam, clearly annoyed, pulled out his wallet.
~Supernatural~
We trotted down the stairs out of the morgue.
I quelled my unease, glad we were finally leaving. I hated morgues.
It dredged up too many memories.
I shook off my fear and focused on Sam, who was talking.
"This might not be one of ours. Might just be some freak medical thing."
Dean grunted. "Yeah, that's why the holy tax accountant poofed in and sent us here."
"Uh, I guess you've got a point."
"Exactly."
"All right, let's go talk to the daughter."
At the Shoemaker's house, the funeral was midway, and there was a picture of Steven Shoemaker on the desk.
Everyone was in black, except us.
"I feel like we're underdressed," Dean echoed my sentiments.
We kept walking through the house towards the back.
A man pointed us towards Donna and Lily Shoemaker, who sat in a corner with their friends.
Dean got down to business.
"You must be Donna, right?" He asked the girl with spiky, black hair.
Sam cleared his throat awkwardly. "Hi, uh-we're really sorry."
Donna nodded shakily. "Thank you."
"I'm Sam, this is Dean, and my sister Odette."
Dean and I both jerked in surprise.
"Dean and I worked with your dad."
Donna looked at her blonde-haired friend, then back at Sam and Dean.
"You did?" She blinked away her tears rapidly.
Dean nodded. "Yeah. This whole thing, I mean a stroke."
Her blonde friend glared at us. "I don't think she really wants to talk about this right now."
"It's okay, Charlie. I'm okay." She seemed to be trying to convince herself more than Charlie, and I wanted to comfort her.
I could sympathize, without sounding shallow and I hated it.
"Were there any symptoms? Dizziness? Migraines?"
"No," Donna replied quietly.
The small girl turned around.
"That's because it wasn't a stroke." Lily held her head in her hands.
"Lily, don't say that." Donna squeezed her hand.
"What?" Sam's voice sharpened.
"I'm sorry, she's just upset." Donna hugged her sister comfortingly.
An action I'd done so many times, but it had turned out to be too little.
Fortunately, Lily distracted me. "No, it happened because of me."
"Sweetie, it didn't," Donna was worriedly looking at her, now."
"Lily." Sam got down on eye level with her.
"Why would you say something like that?"
"Right before he died, I said it." She looked at him, eyes dark and panicked.
"You said what?"
"Bloody Mary, three times in the bathroom mirror."
There was a short, pregnant pause.
"She took his eyes, that's what she does."
"That's not why Dad died, sweetie. This isn't your fault." Donna seemed even more worried now.
Dean blinked. "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?"
Lily stared at him hopefully. "No, I don't think so."
We moved away from the sisters, Charlie's suspicious gaze boring into my back.
~Supernatural~
Sam pushed the door of the Shoemaker's bathroom open. There was still some dried blood on the floor.
"The Bloody Mary legend… Dad ever find any evidence that it was a real thing?"
"Not that I know of." Dean walked into the bathroom.
Sam stooped to the floor and touched the dry flakes of blood.
"I mean, everywhere else all over the country, kids will play Bloody Mary, and as far as we know, nobody dies from it."
"Yeah, well, maybe everywhere it's just a story, but here it's actually happening."
"The place where the legend began?"
Dean shrugged and opened the medicine cabinet.
"But according to the legend, the person who says B-" Sam looked at the mirror that was facing him, and closed it.
"The person who says you know what gets it," he continued. "But here-"
"Shoemaker gets it instead, yeah," Dean glanced around the bathroom again.
"Right." Sam's eyes narrowed.
"Never heard anything like that before. Still, the guy did die right in front of the mirror, and the daughter's right. According to the legend, you know who scratches your eyes out."
"It's worth checking into."
We left the bathroom, and bumped into Charlie.
"What are you doing up here?" She demanded.
"We, er, we had to go to the bathroom."
"What, all three of you? Who are you?" She placed her hands to her hips.
"Like we said downstairs, we worked with Donna's dad." Dean's voice was getting annoyed.
"He was a day trader or something. 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."
"All right, all right." Sam cut off Dean. "We think something happened to Donna's dad."
"Yeah, a stroke," Charlie replied.
"That's not a sign of a typical stroke. We think it might be something else."
"Like what?" Her eyes flipped to slits.
"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 added.
Charlie raised an eyebrow. "Who are you, cops?"
Sam looked over his shoulder at Dean.
"Something like that," the elder Winchester replied.
"I'll tell you what. Here." Sam reached into his pocket, wrote down his number, and gave it to Charlie.
"If you think of anything, you or your friends notice anything strange, out of the ordinary…. just give us a call."
~Supernatural~
Dean and Sam headed to the library, while I stayed in our hotel room.
"Why aren't you with them?"
I nearly fell off the bed at the gravelly voice behind me.
"Castiel, you have got to stop doing that," I said as I caught my breath.
"Why aren't you with them?" He repeated, as if I hadn't said a word.
I avoided looking at him. "I don't think Dean wants my help."
He sat down, a few feet away from me, on the bed.
"One of Dean's many characteristics is that he is stubborn. It is both one of his greatest attributes and his greatest flaws. He does not like you, it is true, but did you honestly expect him to?"
I had a hard time meeting his eyes, and when I did, it seemed like he knew far too much.
"No." I hated my admission.
"It's not your fault."
It didn't make me feel any better, but I supposed this was how Castiel comforted people.
"Thanks, Castiel."
There was no answer.
~Supernatural~
Dean and I sat on extreme ends of the sofa, quietly doing research, as Sam slept.
Sam jerked awake, rolling on top of the bed with a start.
I looked at him sadly. I knew the telltale signs of a nightmare, I'd had too many not to.
Dean's eyes narrowed as he stared at Sam. Anyone could see how protective he was of him.
"Why'd you let me fall asleep?" Sam muttered, in a sleep-smeared voice.
"Cause I'm an awesome big brother. So, what did you dream about?"
He passed a hand wearily over his eyes. "Lollipops and candy canes."
"Yeah, I bet," Dean scoffed, but his eyes belied his tone. They were much like Donna's had been with Lily, only greater in intensity.
"Did you find anything?"
"Oh, besides a whole new level of frustration?" Sam sat up.
"No, Odette and I," I flushed inwardly as he mentioned me, "have looked at everything. A few local women committed suicide in front of a mirror, and a giant mirror fell on a guy named Dave, but uh, no Mary."
Sam fell back on the bed. "Maybe we just haven't found it yet."
"We've also been searching for strange deaths in the area, you know….eyeball bleeding, that sort of thing. Whatever's happening here, maybe it just ain't Mary."
Sam's cell phone rang, and as he picked it up, his expression darkened.
~Supernatural~
"They found Jill on the bathroom floor. And her—her eyes. They were gone."
"I'm sorry," I told her, and I meant it.
"And she said it," Charlie sniffled. Dean looked up at Sam. "I heard her say it. But it couldn't be because of that. I'm insane, right?"
"No, you're not insane," Dean answered.
"Oh God, that makes me feel so much worse." Charlie's voice wobbled.
"Look." Sam's voice was measured, calm. "We think something's happening here. Something that can't be explained."
"And we're gonna stop it, but we could use your help." Dean looked at Charlie pointedly.
~Supernatural~
Charlie locked the door of Jill's room, and opened the window to let us in.
Dean lifted me up first, and I ignored the curl of envy as he deftly jumped in himself, Sam following just as easily.
"What did you tell Jill's mom?" I asked Charlie.
"Just that I needed some time alone with Jill's pictures and things."
Sam pulled out a digital camera.
"I hate lying to her," Charlie added miserably.
"Trust us, this is for the greater good. Hit the lights," Dean told Charlie.
She turned them off, shrouding the room in darkness. "What are you guys looking for?"
"We'll let you know as soon as we find it," Sam answered.
Sam set the camera to night vision, and aimed it at Dean.
"Do I look like Paris Hilton?" Dean's voice was tetchy.
My lip twitched.
"Aim it at her." He pointed to me.
Sam grinned as he pointed it in my direction.
I smiled properly then, as Sam walked away with the camera, opening Jill's closet door and filmed around her mirror.
"So I don't get it. I mean…. the first victim didn't summon Mary, and the second victim did. How's she choosing them?"
Dean gave a noncommittal grunt. "Beats me."
"I want to know why Jill said it in the first place." Dean looked crossly at Charlie.
"It's just a joke," Charlie shrugged.
"Yeah, well somebody's gonna say it again, it's just a matter of time."
Sam was in the bathroom, filming around the mirror, when he called for us.
We turned to look at him.
"There's a black light in the trunk, right?"
Sam carried the mirror out to Jill's bed, laying it upside down. Dean threw him a black light.
I carefully peeled away the brown paper at the back of the mirror.
Sam shone the light on it, and we saw a handprint and a name.
"Gary Bryman."
"Gary Bryman?" Charlie checked the name.
"You know who that is?"
"No," she answered, puzzled.
We sat outside, in a park, as Sam came up behind us with the information.
"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."
"Oh my God," Charlie's face paled.
"What?" I asked her.
"Jill drove that car."
"We need to get back to your friend Donna's house."
Dean's face was hooded.
~Supernatural~
"Linda Shoemaker," I read aloud from the back of Steven Shoemaker's mirror.
"Why are you asking me all this?" Donna looked at us blankly when we asked her about Linda.
"Look, we're sorry, but it's important." Sam looked at her enquiringly.
"Yeah, Linda's my mom, okay? She overdosed on sleeping pills, it was an accident, and that's it. I think you should leave."
"Now, Donna, just listen." Dean tried to reason with her.
"Get out of my house!" Donna's face crumpled and she ran up the stairs.
"Oh my God. Do you really think her dad could've killed her mom?" Charlie's eyes widened.
"Maybe," Sam hedged.
"I think I should stick around," Charlie glanced at the stairs.
"All right. Whatever you do, don't-"
Charlie interrupted Dean. "Believe me, I won't say it."
~Supernatural~
Dean typed furiously on the computer, while Sam looked at the bulletin board.
"Wait, wait, wait, you're doing a nationwide search?"
"Yep," Dean did not turn his head. "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 objected.
"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."
"I know, I was thinking the same thing."
"With Mr. Shoemaker and Jill's hit and run."
"Both had secrets where people died."
The knot in my stomach tightened.
I spoke in hopes to distract myself.
"Right. I mean there's a lot of folklore about mirrors- that they reveal all your lies, all your secrets, that's why it's supposed to be bad luck to break them."
"Right, right." Dean nodded. "So maybe if you've got a secret, I mean like a really nasty one where someone died, they'll kick the bucket."
I swallowed nervously.
"Whether you're the one that summoned her or not, you die." Sam was grim.
"Take a look at this," Dean held up a picture of a handprint and the letters 'TRE'.
"Looks like the same handprint." Sam peered over Dean's shoulder.
"Her name was Mary Worthington- an unsolved murder in Fort Wayne, Indiana."
~Supernatural~
Dean and Sam had found out more about Mary Worthington from a detective in Fort Wayne.
Since Mary was cremated, the boys had concluded her spirit was trapped in the mirror before which she'd died, which was currently in a shop in Toledo.
By the time we returned, a distraught Charlie greeted us.
She was babbling. "I'm gonna die, I saw her, I saw her, Donna said it!"
Her eyes were screwed shut.
Sam and Dean covered all the reflective surfaces in the room, while I tried to calm Charlie down.
I patted her back. "You can open your eyes now, Charlie," I told her gently.
She sat hunched down, on the bed. "We need to know what happened, Charlie," I told her quietly.
"We were in the bathroom. Donna said it."
"That's not what I mean. Your secret, Charlie," I tried not to let my guilt color my voice.
She shook violently, and I squeezed her, tightly. "I had this boyfriend."
I stiffened. "I loved him, but he kind of scared me too, you know? And one night, at his house, 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 don't take me back, I'll kill myself'," she was sobbing now, and I rubbed her back, up and down.
"And you know what I said? I said 'Go ahead'. And I left. How could I say that? I just….didn't believe him, you know? I should have."
She put her face on her knees and cried, harder than ever, and there was nothing I could do to comfort her.
~Supernatural~
"You know, her boyfriend killing himself, that's not really Charlie's fault."
"You know as well as I do that spirits don't see shades of gray, Dean. Charlie had a secret, someone died. That's good enough for Mary."
"I guess," Dean nodded.
"You know, I've been thinking. It might not be enough to just smash that mirror."
"Why, what do you mean?" Dean was getting suspicious.
"Well, Mary's hard to pin down, right? She moves from mirror to mirror, so who's to say she won't move to another mirror if we smash hers? So maybe we should pin her down, you know, summon her to her mirror and then smash it?"
"Well how do you know that's going to work?" Dean glanced at Sam.
"I don't, not for sure."
"Well, who's gonna summon her?"
"I will. She'll come after me."
I started as Sam said it.
"You know what, that's it." Dean pulled the car over abruptly. "This is about Jessica, isn't it? You think you caused her death somehow? Sam, this has got to stop, man. I mean, the nightmares and calling out her name in the night—it's gonna kill you. Now listen to me—it wasn't your fault. If you wanna blame something, blame the damn thing that killed Jess, you idiot! Or take a swing at me—I'm the one who dragged you away from your girlfriend in the first place!"
My expression sobered as I looked at Sam, and the ache in my chest grew. I could empathize with Sam, far, far, too much.
I hated that.
"I don't blame you," Sam said.
"Well, you shouldn't blame yourself, because there's nothing you could've done."
"I could've warned her." Sam's voice was desolate. I wished I could help him.
"About what?" Dean was incredulous. "You didn't know what was gonna happen! And, besides, all of this isn't a secret, I know, and even Odette heard you!"
I jumped as I heard my name. This couldn't happen. I had to do something.
"No you don't." Sam looked out the window at the pouring rain.
"I don't what?" Dean was getting irritated.
"You don't know all about it. I haven't told you everything."
"What are you talking about?" Dean's tone was dangerously low.
"Well, it wouldn't really be a secret if I told you, would it?"
Dean growled. "No. I don't like it. It's not going to happen. Forget it."
The bile was rising in my throat again, and my pulse was racing.
This was it. I had to come to terms with what I'd done.
I opened my mouth, and it had gone so dry all of a sudden.
My hands were slick with sweat as I wrung them. I had to say it.
"You don't have to do it. I'll summon Mary."