A/N: Hello again! The song that's referenced in this chapter is Remedy by Black Crowes. Happy reding!
MJ's entire body ached as if she had just run a marathon, or maybe been run over by a semi-truck. She just barely had the strength to look up at her brothers, standing over her, demanding answers she couldn't give them. What had happened? Some kind of psychic vision? She had never experienced anything like it. Whatever it was, its passing had left her with a dull pain in her head that was quickly building into a killer headache. She must have had a vacant look on her face, because her brothers had taken to discussing her as if she weren't even there.
"Well why does she look like she's about to pass out?" Dean asked, exasperated, unable to keep his voice from adopting an accusatory tone. He had left them alone for less than five minutes and MJ came out looking like death warmed over.
"I told you Dean, I don't know. I found her on the floor with some guy standing over her. He took off when I came out." Sam defended.
"Guy? What guy?" Dean turned, making a visual sweep of the parking lot. After seeing that no one else was around, he turned back to Sam. "Why the hell was she alone anyway?" he asked, frustration evident in his voice.
"Because I didn't think she needed my help in the Ladies' room." Sam said angrily.
MJ leaned forward, her elbows resting on her knees, holding her sore head in her hands. "Knock it off!" She scolded them.
Dean looked down at her when she spoke. He pushed past Sam, crouching down in front of her.
"MJ," He began in a stern voice. "You have to tell us what happened in there." She made no response, not looking up. "Right now." Dean added.
MJ let out a long breath, slowly raising her head. Dean didn't think he had ever seen her looking so pale.
"I don't really know." She said in a shaky voice.
"Well then tell us what you do know." Dean demanded.
MJ took another breath, rubbing her forehead. She squinted, the light bothering her eyes even though it wasn't a particularly bright day.
"I came out of the bathroom and I wasn't looking where I was going and I just sort of ran into this guy. I lost my balance and fell. He took my hand to help me up and when he touched me…" This much made sense to her, but everything from the moment when her skin made contact with his was a blur. Like a weird dream you can just barely remember bits and pieces of.
"When he touched you, what?" Dean asked urgently. "MJ, what did he do?"
MJ started to shake her head, but abruptly stopped when she found the slight movement made it feel like someone was taking a hammer to her temples. "No. He didn't do anything. At least not to me. Maybe not to anyone, I mean- I don't know if any of it was real."
Both brothers wore matching expressions of confusion. "If any of what was real?" Sam asked.
MJ closed her eyes, no longer able to stand the brightness. "When he touched me I…saw things. Like…images or something."
Sam stiffened. "Images of what?" he asked.
"Of him…terrorizing this woman. His wife maybe."
"You saw it? Like…a vision?" Dean asked slowly.
"I don't know. The room sorta faded away and everything was blurry." She paused, swallowing audibly. "And I couldn't hear anything, just this loud roaring noise." She placed a hand to her chest, her breathing becoming more rapid as she recalled the terrible sensation. "I couldn't breathe. And then it just…stopped. And I felt like I'd been run through the spin cycle of the washing machine."
Dean looked back at Sam, his face a mask of apprehension. He turned slowly back to MJ. "Has anything like this ever happened before?"
"No." MJ wrapped her arms around herself, feeling suddenly chilled. She looked up at her brothers, her eyes open ever so slightly against the harsh light. "What's happening to me?"
"Just uh-take 72 out of Springfield. We'll be on that for a hundred miles or so." Sam said, refolding the map.
Dean gave a nod, as he drove toward the on ramp, glancing in the rearview mirror yet again. MJ had fallen asleep when they stopped for gas, clearly exhausted from the episode in the diner. Dean had adjusted the mirror so he could see her more easily, curled up on the bench seat, Sam's jacket draped over her.
Dean's eyes returned to the road, but his troubled thoughts remained with his sister. He thought about what she had said, about the room fading away…the loud roaring noise…how she couldn't breathe. Were these symptoms of psychic visions? Dean's stomach squirmed at the thought. He let out a long breath, turning to Sam.
"So, what do you think happened back there?" He asked, keeping his voice casual, trying hard not to sound like he was accusing Sam of anything.
Sam looked over at Dean for a long moment before answering. "I don't know. I mean I can't say for sure, but it sounds like she had a vision."
Dean's eyebrows rose. "What like your visions? What makes you think so?" Dean asked, his eyes still on the road.
Sam cleared his throat, shifting in his seat. "Well, uh, the way she described it. Everything getting blurry, the images flashing. Definitely the headache." He looked over his shoulder at MJ. "It takes a lot out of you." He said quietly, sympathizing with his sister.
Dean turned toward Sam. "What, so now she's a freakin' psychic or something? You're both gonna get these freaky ass visions all the time?" He spat, slightly hysterical.
Sam shook his head, clearly irritated. "It's not like I chose this, Dean. And it's not like I have the answers about why it's happening. To me or her." Sam turned away, gazing at the passing countryside.
After a few moments of silence, Dean sighed. "I know it's not your fault I just-" He paused, rubbing a hand over his face. "Shit, hasn't she been through enough? Aren't things complicated enough for her without this, too?" Dean asked heatedly, struggling to keep his voice low so he didn't wake his sister.
"Well maybe it doesn't mean anything. I mean, it was just one vision. Maybe it's nothing." Sam offered.
Dean snorted. "When it is ever nothing with us?"
Sam didn't respond to this. They rode in silence for a few minutes, Neil Young playing softly in the background.
"Hey," Sam asked, something occurring to him. "Who were you on the phone with when we came out of the diner? It looked like you were pissed about something."
"Jesus." Dean said, shaking his head. "I almost forgot." Seeing MJ looking like death had driven the phone conversation from his mind completely. "While I was waiting for you guys I called Chicago Police to ask about the charges against that Biz guy. Said I was a fed. The detective told me that the weapons charges would stick, but that they didn't think they'd have enough to charge him with the girl's death."
"What? Why?"
"Because it's almost impossible to prosecute a murder when you don't have a body." Dean said leveling a look at Sam. "Meg's body went missing. When the ME went to do the autopsy yesterday morning, the slab was empty. Nothing else even looked like it had been touched. No signs of a break in. He was reluctant to tell me any of this, but you know, FBI and all…I persuaded him."
"What the hell?" Sam asked.
"I don't know, Sammy." Dean said, shaking his head. "Even dead, the bitch is still wreaking havoc."
"Well, he should do some time for all those unregistered guns." Sam offered.
"Yeah, that reminds me. We left ourselves pretty short on guns. We planted half of what we had on Biz. We'll need to get some more. Maybe Bobby can help with that." Dean paused. "Maybe he can help with this whole…vision thing, too."
"We could head there after we check out this case." Sam said with a shrug. "Sioux Falls is just a few hours from Lincoln. Straight shot north."
Dean nodded. "Works for me." They definitely could use the break and he knew MJ enjoyed spending time at Bobby's. It would be good for all of them.
Her eyes hadn't adjusted to the light. She squinted, trying to make out the room around her. She didn't need to see to know where she was. She recognized the smell before anything else. The smell was unmistakable. Burned plastic…sweat…filth and cigarette smoke. And him. She had walked into a classroom once and the substitute teacher was wearing the same cologne. MJ had barely made it to the bathroom before becoming violently sick.
The early afternoon sunlight pouring into the hot, humid room was nearly blinding her. She frantically scoured the room with her eyes squinted against the light, looking for him. He was close. She shielded her eyes with her hand, but it made no difference. The light was blinding. She strained her ears, listening for any sounds of movement. That's when the music started, soft at first and growing steadily louder.
If I come on like a dream?
Would you let me show you what I mean?
If you let me come on inside?
Will you let it glide?
Can I have some remedy?
Remedy for me please.
Cause if I had some remedy
I'd take enough to please me.
Black Crowes. Always Black Crowes.
She swung her legs off of the bed she was sitting on and took a tentative step, still unable to see the room around her. The carpet under her bare feet felt spongy and damp. When she had taken two small steps without incident, she became even more eager to find a way out and moved more swiftly. A few more steps and her left shin bashed into something solid, sending her flying face first onto the grimy floor. She lifted herself up off the floor a few inches still unable to see anything. That's when she felt his hand on the small of her back, caressing the skin there. She started, an involuntary gasp falling from her lips.
"No." She whispered as his hand traveled lower.
"No. Please, please, no." She begged, tears stinging her eyes.
She felt the scratch of his stubble as his face rubbed along her jawline, could feel his breath against her neck.
"Shhhhh." He whispered.
She screamed.
"Mary Jane! Mary Jane!" Her eyes popped open and she gasped for breath, looking up at Dean's frightened face. He held her face in his hands, not so gently shaking her. Sam stood behind him, clearly freaked out. "You okay?" Dean asked.
She slowly sat up, looking around. She was still in the back seat of the Impala. Dean must have pulled over when she screamed. She nodded, noticing that this didn't set off the horrible pounding that was there before. Her eyes didn't seem sensitive to the light anymore and her muscles weren't nearly as sore. She felt…better.
"I'm okay. Just a bad dream." She said, noticing the deep scratch marks on Dean's left cheek. She reached up, her fingers hovering over his face, not quite touching the angry looking marks. They were still bleeding. "What happened?"
Dean took hold of her wrist, moving her hand away. "Nothing." He said, not meeting her eye. "Are you sure you're okay? You were screaming so loud you almost gave me a freakin' heart attack."
MJ's brow furrowed. What wasn't he saying. Then it hit her. "Oh, shit! I did that to you?"
Dean shrugged, straightening up to stand just outside the car door, next to Sam.
"Dean, I'm sorry." MJ said, embarrassed. "I can't believe-"
"Forget it." He snapped. "I'm fine." He turned and opened the driver side door. He paused before getting in, turning back toward her. "I don't suppose you'll tell us what the nightmare was about."
She looked down, saying nothing.
"That's what I thought." Dean mumbled, lowering himself back into the car. "Then we should get back on the road." He slammed the door closed, making MJ jump.
She looked up at Sam, who gave her a reassuring smile. She sat back in her seat, fastening her seatbelt as Sam closed her door.
She shivered when Dean started the car and the last few notes of the Black Crowes song from here dream filled the car. She wondered if the song playing is what triggered the dream or if it was just a weird coincidence. She awaited the end of the song in agony, her jaw clenched.
Dean was pissed at her. It didn't take a genius to see that. He gripped the steering wheel tightly, eyes straight ahead as he drove on toward Lincoln. No one said anything for the next 45 minutes or so. MJ sat, staring out the window, fighting to forget the dream. She knew sleep would be near impossible for the foreseeable future.
Dean suddenly reached out, turning the volume down on the radio and turned to Sam.
"Victims have anything in common?" He asked, as if they were picking back up in the middle of a conversation, which MJ realized they probably were.
"Not really." Sam said, pulling out his laptop. They all lived in or around Lincoln and they all died, seemingly, alone in their homes. Autopsies said cause of death was cardiac arrest, but the coroner's notes mention specifically that their hearts were in pieces inside their chest cavities."
"Like they exploded." Dean commented, remembering what Bobby had told him. "No other injuries?"
Sam shook his head. "None."
MJ cringed. "What could do something like that?" She asked.
Sam shrugged. "Spirit maybe."
"Well, let's start with the police reports. If nothing else at least we can find out if there were any witnesses and go back and talk to them. Then we can check out the chicks' places." Dean said.
"So Special Agents Plant and Page then?" Sam asked.
Dean nodded. "And their trusty intern." Dean added, his eyes darting to the rearview mirror then quickly back to the road.
Sam turned in his seat to face MJ. "Maybe forgo the pantyhose this time."
MJ saw Dean smirk and smiled in spite of herself.