The three hunters settled into a booth at the back of the bar. They'd spent the day driving to the city MJ had found a case in and had met up in the parking lot. There was little risk of being heard over the other conversations and clatter of pool balls. A waitress wove her way over to them.
"Just drinks tonight? Or are ya'll going to brave the menu?" She smiled warmly, pulling out a pad to take orders.
"Beer and a burger. Extra onions." Dean returned the smile.
"I'll do the same, no extra onions though." Sam said, half shrugging.
The waitress jotted down the orders and turned to MJ. "And you?"
"I'll have a whiskey. Neat." MJ leaned back. "And if the fried mozzarella is any good I'll take an order of that."
The waitress nodded and went to go put that in. When she was out of earshot MJ pursed her lips and took out a folder, dropping it unceremoniously on the table.
"This is everything I've got. Looks like a cursed object. The deaths have been all over town and all the victims were found in locked rooms. They're calling them heart attacks but almost none of them have any of the usual risk factors." She crossed her arms. "The biggest problem is the rate people are dying at. The last two were this week alone. Before that..." She shook her head. "It looks like there have been over 20 in the past few decades." Sam had picked up the folder and was looking through it.
"That's why you said you couldn't put this off." Dean understood the urgency. "People in this city are dropping like flies. Kinda makes you wish there were more hunters around." He smirked at her. MJ's eyes narrowed and she opened her mouth to respond.
"This is quite the file. You ran background checks on all these guys?" Sam interrupted, he was studying one of the pages. MJ turned to him reluctantly.
"Yeah I was trying to find a connection. So far I've got zip. I'm really hoping there's something the background check wouldn't pick up that friends and family would know to connect all of them." MJ's voice was saturated with frustration, she propped her elbows on the table and gestured to the file. "Whatever's going on its picking up the pace." She blew air out through her nose and gritted her teeth.
"There's no coroner's report for the more recent victims." Sam finished flipping through and looked over to MJ. She looked like she was ready to punch someone out. "Hey are you ok?"
"I hate it when innocent people die." Her expression softened somewhat, looking from one Winchester to the other. "Sorry, I know I can be a little intense. And about the coroner's report, I'm no hacker. They've got a halfway decent firewall on their server. I was going to go to the morgue first thing." She shrugged and leaned back, relaxing into her seat. "Besides. We all know that the official reports are inaccurate half the time. If something seems impossible they make up a new story to give to the boss."
"Very true."Dean sighed. Then he looked up, over Sam's head. "Sam put that away, the food's coming."
"To be honest with you agents, this was a weird one." The medical examiner led MJ and Dean to the body of the latest victim. He had died two days ago. Sam was out talking to the families. "It's just like the last few. Found alone in a room locked from the inside, spooky stuff. The interesting part is how they died. I mean...their hearts were... frozen. When I opened this guy up it was still stiff, there were even a few crystals in the blood. I don't know how the hell I'm going to explain that one in the write up."
MJ frowned and cocked her head to the side. "Frozen. Actually frozen? And none of the other organs were affected?" Her voice had a quality that made Dean feel like he was in the principal's office. He thought back to their first meeting and realized that must just be her agent voice. They may be FBI today but she sounded just like the CIA agent she'd been posing as then.
"No ma'am. Just the heart." The M.E. turned to look at the both of them. "I'm sorry but if you'll excuse me, I've got a lot of work to do." He nodded at them and then left.
"So something that can freeze a grown man's heart solid and move from one house to another. Your cursed object theory looks about right." Dean looked MJ up and down. She was still frowning, he could see wheels turning in her head. "What?"
"I don't know." MJ said ponderously. "Something isn't adding up. But I can't figure out what it is." She chewed her lip as she studied the body and some photos of the heart. He was starting to wonder if she did that any time she got lost in thought. Just then his phone rang. It was Sam.
"Hey, so I just finished with the third victim's family. There's nothing out of the ordinary according to them." Sam's voice crackled through the cell connection. MJ looked up questioningly. Dean shook his head. She scowled. "I'm thinking we head over to the last victim's apartment and see if there's anything there. Any luck on your end?"
"Yeah, we'll meet you there and fill you in then. Bye." Dean hung up. "Sam says he's headed to this guy's place now." Dean nodded at the man on the slab as he spoke.
"Well I think we've learned everything we can here." MJ sighed, re-covering the corpse. "There are no marks on the body and the heart looks normal other than having been frozen."
They walked side by side out to MJ's car. Dean made a face at it. The thing kind of unnerved him. Big, black, boxy, and screaming fed for the whole world to see. MJ took in Dean's expression.
"Yeah I know. I don't love it either, but it helps keep up the ruse. And it's got a lot of storage space." MJ shrugged as she spoke, climbing into the driver's seat. Dean sat stiffly next to her.
"You're paranoid as hell. You know that right?" Dean stared at MJ as she pulled out of the parking lot. She'd insisted that Sam not pose as an FBI agent with them today, citing all the regulations he would be violating with his appearance. She'd also insisted on taking her car, leaving Dean to ride shotgun if he wanted to see the body himself.
"Is it really paranoia if the world is out to get you after all?" MJ tossed back lightly. "So what did Sam have to say?" Her eyes were on the road, she drove too fast, weaving between other vehicles.
"He said they all checked out, nothing out of the ordinary. And yes, it's still paranoia." Dean answered, casting his gaze around the SUV's interior to try and distract himself from the reckless driving. It was meticulously organized, and there was a bedroll wedged behind the driver's seat. There were sigils painted everywhere, the color of them just barely standing out from the background. What the hell was she trying to hide from?
"Then sure, I'm paranoid." MJ allowed, breaking into Dean's thoughts. "It's kept me alive more or less." Dean watched as her jaw tightened with the last few words. There were faint shadows under her eyes, like she hadn't had a good night's sleep in even longer than Dean had. He wanted to ask how she'd wound up dead, and then back, but thought maybe right now wasn't the time. MJ was so focused on the case at hand. He decided to bring it up the first opportunity he saw. It wasn't prying if that's why they'd met right? MJ pulled up to the curb in front of an apartment building with a screech. "Looks like we beat Sam here."
"Only because you drive like a lunatic." Dean grumbled. He gladly slid out of the vehicle, feeling solid ground once more. Her apparent desire to rewrite the rules of the road had felt more like flying than driving and Dean's knees felt a little like jelly.
"I got us here didn't I?" MJ said dryly. She hopped out and swung the door shut with a little more force than was strictly necessary. "We gonna wait around for someone else to drop, or go inside and get to work?" She added impatiently. Dean clenched his jaw against the remark that tried to bubble up to the surface. Picking a fight wouldn't be helpful.
They went up to the victim's apartment, flashing badges at the front desk. They'd been snooping for a few minutes when Sam arrived. He was surprised that he hadn't arrived first. He went into the kitchen, where Dean was looking through the cupboards for clues.
"You guys sure got to work fast." Sam said in a cautious tone, Dean looked cranky.
"Yeah. She didn't want to wait." Dean grunted, jutting his chin in MJ's general direction. "So far I don't see anything that could be a cursed object." Dean closed the cupboard and turned so he could lean against the counter.
"So what did the coroner have to say?" Sam asked. He picked up a pile of papers from the kitchen table and started looking through them absently.
"All of the victim's hearts were frozen solid. No marks on the bodies and no other part of them were affected." MJ answered, stepping into the room. "There's nothing in the bedroom." Sam turned, looking up from the papers.
"Frozen hearts? That's a new one." He rolled his head to the side, considering it. "And it's not witchcraft?"
"No hex bags. And the timeline doesn't fit. This has been happening on and off for the past thirty years." MJ leaned against the doorway, crossing her arms. "Besides, when have you ever seen a witch kill in exactly the same way that many times?" MJ asked dubiously.
"Never." Sam sighed, defeated. Then his brow furrowed and he crossed to the fridge. "Check this out." He reached out and pulled a pamphlet out from under a magnet. "It's from an exhibit over at the town rec center." He held it up for MJ and Dean to see.
"Hey isn't that where vic number two worked?" Dean piped up, pushing off from the counter.
"Yeah. And the first one went to a grief support group in the same building." Sam spoke without looking at either of his companions, he was scanning the pamphlet for information. "It says here that they're 'keeping local history alive and well'. Looks like there are a lot of antiques on display."
"Sounds like as good a place as any to look next." MJ uncrossed her arms and headed out of the kitchen, towards the door to the apartment. "You guys coming or what?" She called.
"Well that was a bust." Dean snapped. They had all gone to the rec center and searched it top to bottom. All of the antiques on display had been behind glass, no chance of the victims touching a cursed object there. Sam had run into a friend of one of the victims and talked to them for a while. The more they learned about the victims, the more Dean found himself wanting to keep this from happening again. Every last one of them had seemed like genuinely good people.
"Yeah. Guess we'll just have to start fresh tomorrow." MJ grumbled. She still felt like something was off about this case. It was driving her nuts.
They decided to head over to a motel to regroup. MJ wound up across the hall from the Winchesters. She showered and got into sweats before settling in to do some research on her laptop. She was halfway into reading an article when searing pain snaked across her left leg, settling into a steady ache. She shoved the computer off her lap and snatched up a salt gun, looking wildly around the room. There was nothing there. She heard a muffled thud from across the hall and whipped around. She raced to the door opposite hers and tried the handle. It wasn't locked. She burst into the room to find Sam on the floor with a figure standing over him. She brought the barrel of the gun up and pulled the trigger, dispersing the ghost. As soon as it was gone her leg stopped hurting. Sam rolled onto his side, coughing and gasping.
Dean heard the gunshot ring through the hallway. He dropped the ice bucket and headed towards it at a run. He rounded the corner and glimpsed the door to his and Sam's room open. He stormed in and saw MJ crouched next to Sam, who was laying on the floor gasping and clutching his chest.
"What the hell?" He yelled, making it over to them in two long strides.
"It was a ghost."MJ said calmly and looked up at him. "Will you put your gun away?" She stood very slowly, eyes on Dean's face rather than the weapon pointed at her chest.
Dean hadn't even realized he'd drawn it, it was just a reflex at this point. He stuffed it in the back of his pants and looked at Sam.
"You ok?" He asked, voice tinged with worry.
"I'll be fine" Sam groaned. "That hurt like hell though." He rolled to his knees and clambered up to sit on the bed. Then he squinted at MJ, confused. "How'd you know I was in trouble?"
"I didn't know it was you. Just that there was either a ghost or demon close by." MJ shrugged and swung her shotgun up onto her shoulder. "I got a broken leg on a ghost hunt a few years back. It aches when either of those are around."
"So you're a walking talking proximity alarm for spooks." Dean remarked. "That's damn useful." He bobbed his head to the side as he considered it.
"Thanks." MJ replied flatly. She didn't usually advertise her freaky quirk, but since she was already going to be spilling her guts about hell to these men she figured it didn't matter. "It's not always reliable though. If it's too cold out I won't even notice the extra ache. Some surgeon decided it'd be a brilliant idea to shove a metal rod in my tibia." MJ shuddered a bit at the memory of waking up in the hospital and being told she'd had surgery.
"Damn." Sam half laughed. "Must've been a serious break." He was still rubbing his chest and shivered slightly.
"Yeah." MJ said with an air of false boredom. "You should drink something warm, hearts aren't supposed to get that cold." She tried to redirect the conversation back to Sam. It worked.
"Speaking of. How the hell did a ghost get in here? Or all around town for that matter?" Dean asked a little angrily. MJ shook her head, baffled.
"And why did it go after me?" Sam inquired quietly.
"That's easy." MJ snorted. "You're a sensitive, bleeding heart type. Just like the other vics. It didn't make sense when we were looking for a cursed object, but ghosts can get pretty specific with victim types." Dean snickered at the observation, bumping Sam a little. MJ shifted her weight, wishing she could go sit down in her own room. It felt awkward standing around in someone else's space.
"Bleeding heart..." Sam said to no one in particular, thinking. "I think I read something about some wealthy town founder having some pretty rigid ideals for citizens. Hang on." Sam got up and rummaged in a bag, pulling out his laptop. He did a quick search and sat back, triumphant. "Yeah. This guy Robert Adler. He owned like half the property here and ended up killing his own son for being 'too soft' as he put it." Sam looked a bit like the cat that ate the canary.
"Ok, that still doesn't explain how he's traveling all over the place." Dean popped Sam's bubble with almost no effort. Sam looked over at Dean with irritation, giving him a 'you couldn't just let me have that?' look.
"Adler... Why does that name sound familiar?" MJ knew she'd seen it somewhere, she just wasn't sure where. Exhaustion was eating away at her focus. Sam looked back to the screen, reading further.
"I might have a theory." Sam said tentatively, his eyebrows creeping towards his hairline. "Apparently Adler was the first person in the city to have a telephone installed in his home. He pretty much singlehandedly got the whole area wired. They have his original on display over at the rec center." Sam hesitated, not particularly sure of his idea. Before he could continue, MJ connected the dots.
"Oh my god. He's using phone lines?" MJ interrupted, her eyes flicking over to the landline on the nightstand. "That's not creepy or anything." She remembered reading a plaque at the rec center earlier, crediting Adler with making the town a successful business center for the region. His ghost must still feel possessive.
"Does that say where he's buried?" Dean asked, going into hunting mode. Ghosts were simple enough to get rid of.
"Yeah, but Dean I'm not sure that'll be enough." Sam answered. "I think to be safe we should torch that phone. Even then, we can't be sure he's not tethered to every landline around here."
"Not a problem." MJ said confidently. "Just add a cleansing spell to the fire." The words just kind of slipped out. She was getting way too comfortable with the Winchesters. They both looked at her, bewildered. "Oh come on. Like you've never used a cleansing ritual before." MJ felt a little panicked, this is why she didn't hang out with other hunters. Just mention using a little witchcraft and they get all defensive. Or murderous.
"No, I mean we have, but that's a really good idea." Dean said in a rush. He had picked up on a flicker of fear in MJ's demeanor at their surprise. She'd started to take half a step back. He got the feeling that she'd had a bad experience or two in the past. He'd met more than one hunter over the years that had a strict no magic policy. They usually wound up dead, but still, it happened. The expression of relief that flitted across MJ's face at his words was heartbreaking.
"Well then, I've got a good heavy duty one that should do the trick." MJ cleared her throat. She pushed away her desire to go curl up in bed for a few hours. "I'll go get some stuff and meet you guys outside. Let's not give the bastard a chance to go after Sam again."
"Yeah, that would be good." Sam huffed.
MJ broke into the rec center to get the antique phone. It wasn't heavy, and she was able to easily stuff it into a backpack. Then she met up with the brothers at Adler's grave. They were just finishing digging up the coffin.
"I've got it." MJ announced her arrival while dropping the backpack next to the pile of earth. "And I've got everything for the cleansing."
Dean grunted and swung up out of the deep hole. He was filthy and panting slightly. MJ watched as he drained the last water from a bottle. She felt a pang of sympathy for him. She'd only met Dean a couple of days ago, but he certainly didn't seem like he deserved to go to hell.
"What?" He asked self consciously. MJ's eyes were locked on him but he couldn't read her expression.
"Nothing." She said, turning to the backpack and pulling out the phone and some ingredients for the cleansing. Sam was prying the lid off of the coffin. There was a loud crack! followed by him heaving himself up to the same level as MJ and his brother. He wheezed a bit. MJ swiped a water bottle and whistled sharply to get Sam's attention before tossing it to him. He caught it and downed it in one go.
"Thanks." He chuckled. "So is this everything we'll need?" He stepped lightly over to where MJ was setting up various glass jars full of herbs.
"Yeah, and there's an incantation." MJ held up a scrap of yellowed parchment. "Since he tried to kill you, do you want to do the honors?" She smirked as she spoke. Sam laughed lightly and took the paper. MJ tossed the old phone in with the bones.
Dean got the fire going and Sam read the incantation while MJ added ingredients to the flames. They turned from orange to blue-green as the spell did its job. They were quiet for some time, just watching the bones burn. As the last embers died MJ picked up a shovel and started dumping dirt back in. Dean grabbed the other one.
"I've got this, you can sit." MJ said, glancing at the man.
"It'll get done faster this way." Dean mumbled. The invitation was enticing, he could feel fatigue setting in. But he would feel weird doing nothing. "So... how are we going to keep me from going to hell in a couple months?" MJ paused, shovel mid-air. It took her a moment to respond.
"The best bet is to find out which demon holds your contract and kill them." She looked away then, continuing to move the dirt back.
"How do we find that out?" Dean asked, not sure he wanted the answer.
"Catch a crossroads demon and... make them talk." MJ kept her eyes on her task. Dean didn't respond, so she eventually looked up. He was looking at her, leaning on his shovel. Her eyes found his and they locked for a long minute. She read in them Dean's unwillingness to torture a demon's vessel along with the hell spawn. She saw pain that felt all too familiar. MJ dropped her gaze then, feeling oddly exposed. "I can take care of it." She said in a small voice. It wasn't like she'd be tarnishing her soul any more than it already was.
"No." Dean's voice was firm. He felt off. When he'd looked into MJ's eyes he'd seen something vulnerable in them, and it made him want to stand between her and danger. He'd been unable to look away, so when she dropped her eyes it had been a relief. "There has to be another way."
"And if there's not?" MJ tried to keep her voice neutral. She was trying to be gentle about it, but she didn't see any other way.
"Then... I don't know." Dean was thrown by how cold MJ had suddenly become. Over the past few days he'd seen any number of emotions from her, always in full force. But now she was quiet, deliberate in every movement. It seemed unnatural.
"Well you'd better figure that out quick Winchester." MJ slapped the flat of the shovel down on the dirt, compacting it. "Unless you want to die under the fangs of a hellhound." Her voice had become quite sharp. "It's a bad way to go."
Dean found himself speechless, he didn't want to believe that torturing a demon was the only way to get answers, but he also really didn't want to die. He watched MJ's face twist, presumably at the memory of her own death. She looked like she was going to be sick for a brief moment, but then she straightened up, closing her eyes. Sam had watched the exchange silently, feeling like an intruder.
"I don't know about you two, but I need some sleep." MJ's usual manner of sarcasm was back. She crouched to repack the spell ingredients before hefting the bag over her shoulder. She walked off in the direction of her car.