A/N: I truly appreciate the reviews. Please don't be afraid to make suggestions. Constructive criticism is welcome! Here's the next chapter. Please enjoy!
I only own MJ and Scotty, nothing else.
There was complete silence for all of ten seconds, followed by a sharp intake of breath from MJ, another sob from Patricia, and a "holy shit" from Scotty.
"Mom." Nathan said shaking his head, a look of utter disbelief on his face, "What are you saying?"
"Oh, Nate," Patricia turned in her chair, taking both Nathan's hands in her own. "Nate, I never meant for you to find out. I"m so sorry."
"Sorry for what? What did you do?" He asked quietly, although the look on his face said he already knew.
"Your father, it was his idea. If I had gone against him he would have left me!"
MJ stood, unable to remain quiet any longer. "Wait. You faked your own son's death and then had him committed under a different name?" She waited, staring at Patricia, who stared determinedly at the floor, still grasping Nathan's hands tightly. "Why?" No one spoke. "Why?"
Patricia finally looked up at them. Tears streaked her make up and her nose was running freely. "Randall didn't want a child with-" she made a strangled sound, covering her mouth with her hand, "a child like Joshua to get in the way of his political career. The older he got, the harder he was to handle. Randall couldn't take it. He didn't want to be distracted. He thought people would think he couldn't handle holding public office if he had a special needs child to take care of." She let out a humorless laugh. "State Senator. He threw our son away just to have a career as a mediocre politician."
"So you'd visit him when you went to Mount Hope on business?" Sam prompted her.
She shook her head. "Not at first. Randall wanted us to sever all ties. He said it would be easier for Joshua if we didn't see him at all. A clean break. After a few years, though, I did go see him." She looked down again. "He didn't remember who I was."
"Why didn't you just have him committed? Why fake his death?" Sam asked quietly.
Patricia met Sam's eye, but said nothing. Nathan slipped away from his mother, sitting down on the edge of the sofa next to MJ, looking grim.
"Because he didn't belong there." MJ said. Everyone turned to look at her. "He wasn't nearly severe enough to be institutionalized was he? He belonged at home with you, but you didn't want the burden or the inconvenience." MJ stood walking toward Patricia, who looked up at her, horrified. "Or the shame. So you hid him away and made nice, fat donations to keep things quiet."
"I had no choice!"
"You had a choice!" MJ shouted back. "You had a choice right from the beginning. You didn't have to walk away from your child."
Sam stood, placing a hand on MJ's shoulder. He pulled her back toward the couch. She reluctantly sat back down.
"So what's the deal with the picture?" Scotty asked impatiently.
Patricia stared at Scotty for a moment before answering. "I brought him that picture last year when I went to see him. He didn't have any photos of the family, of course. I figured no one would find that photo strange. No one would question it."
"So why is he doing away with everyone in it?" Scotty asked no one in particular.
"What are you talking about? Josh is-dead. He's not hurting anyone."
"Well maybe not him, but his spirit is pissed as hell and getting revenge on the people in that photo." Scotty answered.
"What?" Nathan asked, standing up. "This is nuts!"
"You don't know him. He was so sweet and gentle. He'd never hurt anyone, let alone his own family."
"Well maybe he was sweet and gentle before you locked him up and forgot about him." MJ said a tear rolling down her cheek. "He's angry. And he made the connection that the people in that photo were living the life that should have been his. He was smart enough to know that you wronged him. Robbed him of his freedom."
"Stop." Patricia said quietly.
"Just imagine him sitting in his room. All day, everyday with nothing to do but fixate on the people in that photo. The people who went on living their charmed lives, not giving him so much as a fleeting thought."
"Stop!" Patricia yelled, burying her head in her arms and dissolving into loud sobs.
"Enough." Sam said, standing next to MJ. "What's done is done. We need to stop him before anyone esle is hurt. Where is he buried?" He asked Patricia, standing over her.
"Wh-what? Why is that relevant?"
"Do you want us to save your remaining son or not?" Scotty asked.
Sam shot Scotty a warning glance, before turning back to Patricia. "We can...perform a ritual that will put Joshua at rest. For good. Please, we don't have much time. Where is he buried?"
"He's at St. Agnes Cemetary. The family plot. Where we pretended he was all along." She said, disgust in her voice.
MJ and Scotty stayed at the Morrison's home while Sam took off quickly to salt and burn the bones. Scotty very tactfully reminded Sam that Joshua had died less than three months ago and "ain't gonna smell like posies and perfume."
Patricia took to pacing around the house, wiping at her eyes and closely watching Nathan as he moved from the living room couch to the kitchen table and back again, avoiding his mother's gaze. MJ and Scotty got busy laying salt lines at all the windows and doors.
"So how do you afford this place if your husband's just a 'mediocre politician'?" Scotty asked as he finished salting the kitchen windows.
"His family has money." Patricia answered automatically, not taking her eyes off Nathan, who had just vacated the kitchen table as soon as she sat down across from him.
"You see, that's the problem with rich people. You want things just to want them. Your survival doesn't depend on it so you fall short."
"So, you're saying all rich people are lazy?" She asked tonelessly.
"I'm saying that the fear of starvation and homelessness is a powerful motivator."
"This isn't helping anything." MJ spat as she headed to the second floor to check the windows. Scotty followed.
"What, so now you're defending her?" He asked.
"Of course not, but instigating them just makes things worse."
"Well you didn't exactly hold back yourself. You let her have it, eh." She said nothing, carefully pouring salt on the bedroom window sill. He shrugged. "I get where you were coming from. I mean this has gotta really bother you. What your mom and dad did wasn't all that different. They just left you alone, to take care of yourself."
MJ froze. She slowly turned toward Scotty. "What the hell do you know about my parents?"
"Well, Dean told me about what happened. It's nothing to be ashamed of." He said placing a hand on her shoulder.
She yanked his hand off of her and stormed toward the bedroom door. She stopped quickly, turning on her heel.
"You don't know a God damn thing about me or my family. Don't you talk about my parents ever again."
She turned back around and found herself face to face with Joshua Morrison's ghost. His cold, distant eyes held her gaze. His face betrayed no emotion, but his stiff posture and unwavering stare clearly signified rage and anger. MJ stood rooted to the spot for what seemed like eternity.
"Duck!" Scotty shouted.
MJ acted on instinct, hitting the deck. She heard the shotgun blast over her head, and saw Joshua's feet disappear. Scotty pulled her to her feet, the shotgun at the ready.
"Get downstairs, now. Make a salt circle and stay inside it with those two yahoos." He said, shoving her out the door.
MJ flew down the stairs. Halfway down she heard Patricia's panicked shrieks coming from the living room. She grabbed the iron blade from her belt and ran toward the room.
"No, Josh, please! Don't hurt him! It's me you want, take me!" Patricia stood next to Joshua, pulling at his arm, as he strangled his younger brother. Joshua was completely focused on Nathan, and MJ doubted if he was even aware that anyone else was in the room.
MJ quickly approached them and slashed the blade through the spirit's torso. He disappeared in a misty cloud, leaving Nathan wide eyed, gasping for breath and clutching at his throat.
"Nathan!" Patricia screamed grabbing onto her younger son.
"Stay close to me." MJ ordered as she drew a salt line around them. "Sam, hurry up, please." She begged as she straightened up, her blade at the ready.
Scotty came into the room, gun raised. "This place is too fucking big, and there's too many fucking doors and windows. We'll never get them all." He said joining them in the circle.
Patricia was crying hysterically, still holding onto Nathan who was still coughing and rubbing his throat. MJ and Scotty stood quietly in the circle, scanning the large room.
Joshua reappeared across the room and made his way slowly toward them. His vacant stare was fixed on MJ. It did not waver as he moved slowly toward them. MJ couldn't help but stare right back at him. When he was only a few feet away, Scotty stepped in front of MJ, blocking her from view and fired off another salt round, making Joshua disappear again. This time he reappeared more quickly, to Scotty's left. Before MJ could warn Scotty, Joshua had knocked the gun out of Scotty's hands, sending it skittering across the floor and out of reach.
Scotty reached a hand behind him. "Give me your knife." He said to MJ.
She slapped it into his outstretched palm. Scotty reached out, slashing the knife at Joshua. Joshua grabbed hold of Scotty's wrist and pulled him out of the circle. Scotty was pulled to his knees and Joshua proceeded to kick him in the stomach, making him fall back and slide several feet backward.
MJ jumped out of the circle and almost instantly Joshua had his hands around her throat. MJ clawed at his cold, dead hands with all her strength, but he didn't even seem to notice the effort. His eyes stared straight into hers, never blinking. She felt her head grow light and her lungs burn. The room began to spin and go dark. Just as she felt herself slipping away, Joshua burst into flames and disappeared. MJ fell to her knees, pulling air into her lungs, bracing herself with one palm on the floor.
"It's about time, Sammy." She choked out.