Disclaimer- I do not own Supernatural or any of its characters.
Thanks to everyone who reviewed!
Garideth- Thank you! Out of general curiosity, were you able to not cry? :P
XKaterinaNightingaleX- Yes, Shadow made me sniffle, too!
I'm not doing Hell House- sorry, no thank you.
It annoyed me a little, anyway.
(Um, there is going to be no SamxOdette. Sheesh! Where'd you guys get the idea, anyway?)
So, Something Wicked it is! I love this episode!
Possible clue, up ahead! :D
Chapter name borrowed from Steven Curtis Chapman.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT- ONE LITTLE HEARTBEAT AT A TIME
"Kid. Wake up." Dean's familiar voice made me rouse myself reluctantly.
I woke to a face full of plaid.
Somehow, I'd fallen asleep in Sam's lap.
My cheeks turned beet-red, and I got up in a hurry, opening my mouth to apologize.
Sam smiled warmly at me. "I don't mind."
I blushed again, but this time, I was pleased.
I was mildly surprised to see Castiel in the shotgun seat.
Dean turned around to smirk at us. "Aw, aren't you guys just adorable?"
I turned pink.
Sam's glare did not faze him in the slightest.
"Don't mind Sam," Dean grinned smugly. "He's a bit of a mother hen."
"Dean?"
His expression soured slightly as Castiel spoke.
"What?"
"Why did you liken Sam to a female chicken?"
~Supernatural~
Sam leant against the Impala, staring ahead.
Dean crossed the road to us, holding three coffees.
The light from the diner was warm and inviting, but of course, we couldn't stay.
Dean handed me my macchiato, and I stared in surprise.
I hadn't expected him to remember.
He raised an eyebrow, silently daring me to ask.
I decided to keep quiet.
Satisfied, Dean turned to Sam.
"Well, the waitress thinks the local freemasons are up to something sneaky, but other than that no one's heard about anything freaky going on."
Sam did not shift his gaze. "Dean, you got the time?"
He gave a cursory look at his watch.
"Ten after four. Why?"
Sam indicated the town of Fitchburg. "What's wrong with this picture?"
He'd been watching a playground.
It was deserted, and only one little girl was climbing the monkey bars.
"School's out, isn't it?" Dean looked quizzically at the park.
"Yeah." Sam nodded. "So where is everybody?"
"This place should be crawling with kids." I realized uneasily.
Dean approached a woman sitting on a park bench.
"Sure is quiet out here," he said conversationally.
"Yeah, it's a shame," the woman shook her head sadly.
"Why's that?" Dean's tone was infinitesimally sharper.
The woman didn't notice. "You know, kids getting sick, it's a terrible thing."
I twitched nervously.
Castiel picked up on the movement, and my unease grew.
He couldn't find out.
"How many?"
"Just five or six but serious, hospital serious. A lot of parents are getting pretty anxious. They think it's catching."
The four of us watched the little girl play by herself.
~Supernatural~
We entered and approached the desk of the receptionist.
I hung back.
I hated hospitals; I hadn't set foot in one, not after-
Castiel swung his head around to me as I cut the thought short.
Sam distracted me.
"Dude. Dude, I am not using this ID." The petulance in his voice brought a smile to my lips.
"Why not?" Dean demanded.
"'Cause it says bikini inspector on it!"
I tried not to laugh, and failed completely.
Dean grinned mischievously.
"Don't worry, she won't look that close all right? Hell, she won't even ask to see it. It's all about confidence, Sammy."
He spun Sam to face the desk, and gestured for Castiel and I to follow him.
"Hi." Sam cleared his throat. "I'm Doctor Jerry Caplin, from disease control."
The receptionist looked up, bored. "Can I see some ID?"
Down the corridor, next to me, Dean sniggered.
Sam shot Dean a dirty look. "Yeah, of course."
He quickly flashed his ID.
"Now could you direct me to the pediatrics ward, please?"
"Okay, well, just go down that hall, turn left and up the stairs."
Sam walked to Dean, glowering at him.
Dean was still grinning. "See. I told you it would work."
Sam's only response was a growl.
~Supernatural~
"Thanks for seeing us Dr. Heidecker," Dean smiled amiably at him.
"Well, I'm glad you're here." Heidecker's face was exhausted. "I was just about to call CDC myself. How'd you find out anyway?"
"Oh, some GP," Dean's tone was breezy. "I forgot his name, he called Atlanta and musta beat you to the punch."
"So you say you got six cases so far?" Sam looked at Heidecker.
"Yeah, five weeks." He sighed. "At first we thought it was a garden variety bacterial pneumonia. Not that newsworthy. And now….."
"Now what?" Castiel spoke up finally.
The exhaustion on the doctor's face was clear.
"Kids aren't responding to antibiotics. Their white cell counts keep going down. Their immune systems aren't doing their job. It's like their bodies are wearing out."
My hands were slick with sweat. This was getting to be too much.
"Excuse me, Dr. Heidecker," A nurse in blue scrubs handed him a sheaf of forms.
"You ever see anything like this before?" Sam crossed his arms.
"Never this severe," Heidecker answered.
"And the way it spreads…" The nurse's face was wan. "That's a new one for me."
"What do you mean?"
"It works its way through families." She pulled at her hair fretfully. "But only the children, one sibling after another."
"You mind if we interview a few of those kids?" Dean waited for her answer.
"They're not conscious."
"None of them?" The words burst from my lips.
"No."
Dean blinked. "Can we, uh, can we talk to the parents?"
"If you think it will help." Heidecker glanced at me.
"Keep her away from here, she might just catch it. God knows we've got enough kids in here already."
Dean and Sam's heads snapped up.
Dr. Heidecker gazed at me again, and I shivered.
His stare was almost…. predatory.
~Supernatural~
We stood in front of the man, who slumped in his chair.
"I should get back to my girls," His voice was barely more than a whisper.
"We understand that," Sam smiled encouragingly. "And we really appreciate you talking to us. Now you say Mary is the oldest?"
"Thirteen." He cast his eyes downward.
"OK. And she came down with it first, right? And then…"
"Bethany, the next night."
"Within twenty-four hours?" Sam cocked an eyebrow.
"I guess." The man turned away. "Look, I already went through all this with the doctor."
"Just a few more questions, if you don't mind," Dean coaxed. "How do you think they caught pneumonia? Were they out in the cold, anything like that?"
"No. We think it was an open window."
"Both times?" Dean was skeptical.
"The first time I don't really remember but the second time for sure." He shrugged. "And I know I closed it before I put Bethany to bed."
"So you think she opened it?" Sam leant against the wall.
"It's a second story window with a ledge. No one else could have."
We walked back down the corridor.
"You know, this might not be anything supernatural," Sam pursed his lips. "It might just be pneumonia."
"It's not." Castiel's tone was flat.
Dean glanced at him oddly.
"I'll tell you one thing."
"What?" Dean focused on Sam.
"That guy we just talked to? I bet it will be a while before he goes home."
~Supernatural~
Sam and Dean checked the room with the EMF meter.
"You got anything over there?"
"No, nothing." Dean huffed, annoyed.
"Yeah, me neither," Sam replied.
They kept checking, and I moved to the window.
I froze as I stared at it.
"Hey, guys?" I called over my shoulder.
"Yeah." Dean looked at me impatiently.
I kept my eyes on the windowsill.
"Castiel was right. It's not pneumonia."
They came over, staring at the handprint rotted into the wood.
"It's rotted." Sam's voice was disbelieving. "What the hell leaves a handprint like that?"
Dean did not move. "I know why Dad sent us here. He's faced this thing before. He wants us to finish the job."
~Supernatural~
The Impala pulled up to a hotel reception and we got out.
"So what the hell is a shtriga?" Sam was perplexed.
"Kinda like a witch, I think." Dean rubbed his head. "I don't know much about them."
"Well, I've never heard of it." Sam rested against the hood of Dean's car. "And it's not in Dad's journal."
"Dad hunted one in Fort Douglas, Wisconsin, about sixteen-seventeen years ago. You were there, you don't remember?"
We both looked at Sam.
"No." He sounded frustrated.
"Guess he caught wind the thing's in Fitchburg now and kicked us the coordinates."
"So wait, this…"
"Shtriga." Dean supplied.
"Right, you think it's the same one Dad hunted before?"
"Yeah, maybe," Dean shrugged.
"But if Dad went after it how come it's still breathing air?"
"'Cause it got away," Dean rolled his eyes.
"Got away?" Sam echoed, unconvinced.
Dean was starting to get exasperated. "Yeah, Sammy, it happens."
He seemed oddly defensive, and pushed me with him inside the reception.
I rang the bell.
A boy of around ten came from the back room. I could see a younger boy watching TV.
"King or two queens?" He asked.
Dean glanced back at Sam. "Two queens and a single."
The boy followed his look and snickered quietly. "Yeah, I bet," he said under his breath.
My lips twitched.
"What'd you say?" Dean's eyes narrowed.
The boy smiled hastily. "Nice car!"
A woman entered, smiling at us both pleasantly.
"Hi."
"Hi," Dean greeted her.
"Checking in?" She placed a hand on the boy's shoulder.
"Yeah," I nodded.
The woman gave the boy a gentle push.
"Ahh, do me a favor, go get your brother some dinner."
"I'm helping a guest!" He protested indignantly.
His mother looked at him pointedly.
He grimaced, turning to go.
The boy addressed his mother. "Two queens," he raised his eyebrows at Dean. "And a single."
Dean attempted a laugh. It came out strained.
"Funny kid."
"Oh yeah," the woman smiled indulgently. "He thinks so. Will that be cash or credit?"
"Do you take MasterCard?"
She nodded.
"Perfect. Here you go."
I had to nudge Dean, who'd spaced out as the woman held out his card.
"Sir?"
Dean finally snapped out of his reverie. "Thanks."
~Supernatural~
Sam and I sat near my laptop.
He beckoned Dean. "Odette and I did some research. You were right; shtrigas are a kind of witch. They're Albanian, but legends about them trace back to ancient Rome. They feed off spiritus vitae."
Dean scrunched up his face. "Spiri-what?"
"Vitae," I finished. "It's Latin, translates to 'breath of life'. Kinda like your life force or essence."
"Didn't the doctor say the kids bodies were wearing out?"
"It's a thought." Sam peered at the screen. "You know, she takes your vitality, maybe your immunity goes to hell, pneumonia takes hold. Anyway, shtriga's can feed off anyone, but they prefer…"
"Children," Dean completed.
"Yeah, probably because they have stronger life force," I bit my lip, repulsed.
"Get this," Sam took my laptop. "Shtrigas are 'invulnerable to all weapons devised by God and man."
"No, that's not right." Dean waved his hand at my laptop. "She's vulnerable when she feeds."
"What?" Sam raised his head.
"If you catch her when she's eating, you can blast her with consecrated wrought iron. Ahh…buckshots or rounds, I think."
Sam turned his head. "How do you know that?"
"Dad told me." Dean pulled out his gun. "I remember."
"Oh. So, uh, anything else Dad might have mentioned?" Sam's tone was careful.
"Nope, that's it."
Sam kept staring at Dean.
"What?" He demanded.
"Nothing. Okay, so assuming we can kill it when it eats, we gotta find the thing first. It ain't gonna be a cakewalk. Shtrigas take on a human disguise when they're not hunting."
"What kinda human disguise?" Dean sat on the bed.
I decided to answer him.
"Historically, something innocuous. Could be anything, but it's usually a feeble old woman, which might be how the 'witches as old crones' legend got started."
Dean crossed the room. "Hang on."
"What?" Sam and I spoke together.
He grabbed a map.
"Check this out. I marked down all the addresses of the victims. Now these are the houses that have been hit so far, and dead centre?"
Sam's eyes widened. "The hospital."
Dean shrugged on his jacket.
"We'd better go."
~Supernatural~
Dean and Sam had returned, tired and discontent.
"We got nothing," Dean growled unhappily.
I saw the owner's son sitting behind the office, looking forlorn.
Dean followed my eyes, and moved to the boy.
"Hey, what's wrong?" Dean was oddly gentle.
"My brother's sick." He hunched in on himself.
"The little guy?"
He nodded. "Pneumonia. He's in the hospital. It's my fault."
"Oh, c'mon, how?" Dean crouched down next to him.
"I shoulda made sure the window was latched. He wouldn't have got pneumonia if the window was latched."
The raw ache in his voice made me throw caution to the winds.
"Listen to me." Dean moved away, surprised at my involvement. "I can promise you this is not your fault."
He did not seem convinced, and impulsively, I clutched his hand.
"I had a little brother, too, you know."
He raised his glistening eyes.
"Feels like it's your job to look after him, isn't it?" My smile slipped off as I heard Dean and Sam huff in surprise.
He nodded mutely.
"It used to be that way for me, too." I muttered inaudibly.
Dean had a strange look on his face, as the boy's mother ran out.
"Michael, come on!" She called.
Dean locked gazes with us. "We're going to kill this thing."
He stared at the distraught mother.
"I want it dead, you hear me?"
~Supernatural~
I sat at the microfiche machine, picking up my phone.
"Hey," Dean's voice was muted.
"Hey. How's the kid?" I think I knew the answer, anyway.
"He's not good." Dean was grim. "Where you at?"
I placed a hand on my forehead. "I'm at the library. I think I know who the shtriga is."
"You what?" Dean's tone sharpened in an instant.
I could hear Sam in the background.
"This shtriga. It chooses different towns. Before this there was Ogdenville, and North Haverbrook, Brockway. Every fifteen-twenty years it hits a new town."
I pressed my temples. "Dean, this thing is barely getting started. All these other places, it went on for months."
My voice trembled.
"Okay, who is it?" Dean's voice was measured, calm.
Probably for my benefit.
"The earliest mention I could find is this place called Black River Falls back in 1890."
I moved further. "I looked at a photograph of a bunch of doctors standing around a kid's bed. One of them was Heidecker."
"And?" He wasn't convinced.
"And this picture was taken in 1893."
~Supernatural~
"That son of a bitch." Dean was fuming.
"We should have thought of this before," Sam was frustrated.
Dean wasn't listening. "Shtrigas focus on kids, right? It'll probably go after Michael next."
"We gotta get him outta here," Sam's mouth leveled into a thin line.
"No." Dean was resolute. "No, that would blow the whole deal."
"What?" Sam was shocked.
"Yeah." Dean's face did not change.
"You wanna use the kid as bait? Are you nuts? No! Forget it. That's out of the question."
Dean sighed. "It's the only way, Sam. If this thing disappears it could be years before we get another chance."
"Michael's a kid," Sam banged the tabletop. "I'm not going to dangle him in front of that thing like a worm on a hook."
They both had a point, but I was with Sam.
There was only one other way.
"No."
Sam and Dean swung their heads my way.
"You don't need Michael. Use me."