A/N: Sorry I've been MIA for so long! I was finsihing up school and had a lot of exams and projects to focus on but now I'm finally on summer vacation, which means I'll have more time to write! Thank you for being so patient!
Disclaimer: I only own Allie.
Episode: Something Wicked this way Comes.
Last night, Dean got a text from Dad. It was simple, but lacked the sweet. In fact, there was nothing personal about the text at all. He sent Dean some coordinates – said there was something we had to hunt down over there immediately. Dean obviously tried asking what it was and what we were getting ourselves into, but of course Dad didn't answer.
Immediately, Dean books us to Fitchburg, Wisconsin, putting Sam on research duty to find anything that would spike our kind of expertise. However, both Dean and Sam are getting frustrated with each other because neither can think or find any answers as to why Dad is dragging our asses to Wisconsin.
"Dude, I ran LexisNexis, local police reports, newspapers, I couldn't find a single red flag. Are you sure you got the coordinates right?" Sam asks for the 100th time. However, that's a stupid question. Dad may not be great at using technology, but he would never make a mistake by sending the wrong coordinates.
"Yeah, I double checked. It's Fitchburg, Wisconsin. Dad wouldn't have sent us coordinates if it wasn't important Sammy."
Sam shakes his head, obviously irritated, "Well I'm telling you I looked and all I could find was a big steamy pile of nothing. If Dad's sending us hunting for something I don't know what."
"Well maybe he's going to meet us there."
I scoff from the backseat, "Yeah, because he's been so easy to find up to this point." Plus, we just saw the man, and in doing so, we almost got him killed. Just by being around him. I don't think he's going to be near us anytime soon.
Dean looks over his shoulder at me, "You're a real smart ass you know that?"
"I learn from the best," I stick my tongue out.
Dean rolls his eyes, "Don't worry I'm sure there's something in Fitchburg worth killing."
"Yeah? What makes you so sure?" Sam says challengingly. I can't blame Sam for being a little bit snippy. The stress of this job and finding Mom's killer has been itching in our mind for the past couple of weeks. We're all going crazy.
"'Cause I'm the oldest, which means I'm always right."
"No it doesn't," Sam and I both scoff.
"It totally does," Dean says, truly believing it.
Sam and I drop the conversation figuring it the whole argument against it was just a lost cause when battling Dean. I glance out my window and finally see a sign that indicates we're entering Fitchburg, Wisconsin. Finally.
First things first. Find out why the hell we're here. Dean stops by a coffee shop to try and talk to some of the locals about any suspicious activity happening around town, and to get us all some coffee because we're all getting cranky at this point.
Sam and I stay back to let Dean do his thing and to not spook off the people Dean will be talking to. We don't know what we're looking at, so just to be safe, we're keeping a low profile.
We stand outside the impala, tapping our toes and pressing our lips into a thin line. All I can think about is sleep, how much I want it, and how I know I will not get it anytime soon. Sam hasn't talked to me since Dean pulled up to the coffee shop. Hell, he hasn't paid attention to much other than the playground in front of him.
"Why the hell are you staring at some kid on the monkey bars?" I ask.
Sam opens his mouth to answer, but Dean comes back with our coffees interrupting.
"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."
"Shocker," I deadpan.
"Either one of you got the time?" Sam asks, still looking at the playground.
"Ten after four," Dean says, glancing down at his wristwatch. "Why?"
Sam nods towards the one kid on the swings, "What's wrong with this picture?"
I look back at the playground and finally understand why Sam was staring at it so curiously. Usually the playground is loaded with kids after school lets out. At least it was back when we were the youngsters pushing each other down the slide. Its unusual seeing a playground so vacant right after school lets out.
"School's out isn't it?" Dean asks, seeing the picture too.
"Yeah. So where is everybody? This place should be crawling with kids right now."
I look at the playground again and see the mother of the little girl sitting on the bench to the side, watching and reading a magazine. I figure this woman is our best shot at finding out why everyone isn't here, so I walk over to her.
"Sure is quiet out here," I say as I approach.
"Yeah, it's a shame," The woman sighs.
"Why's that?" I ask. Bingo.
"You know, kids getting sick, it's a terrible thing."
"How many?"
"Just five or six but serious, hospital serious. A lot of parents are getting pretty anxious. They think it's catching."
I look up at my brothers who are watching me like a hawk by the impala. I nod to them, showing that this may be the reason we were sent here. Not only do we have a lead on what kind of hunt this may or may not be, but now our main priority is children, which is going to make this case even more of a bitch than it already is. Wonderful.
Dean, Sam, and I get dressed in our nice clothes, the boys a suit, and I a pant suit, and go to the Dane County Memorial Hospital, posing as members of the CDC looking into the recent pediatric outbreak.
Dean hands each of us our IDs as we walk through the doors. I glance over mine and re-familiarize myself with the new identity. It's been a while since we've posed as CDC employees.
Sam does the same thing, but unlike me, he doesn't like what he sees. "Dude. Dude I am not using this ID."
"Why not?" Dean asks. However, I see a smirk trying to hide on his face but failing miserably.
"Because it says bikini inspector on it."
I can't help but let out a small giggle. Only Dean would put that kind of thing on Sam's ID card.
Grinning, Dean says, "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."
Dean grabs Sam by the shoulders and spins him around to face the receptionist before he can fight it anymore. Laughing silently to ourselves, Dean and I stand to the side as we wait for Sam to somehow pull this thing off.
"Hi. I'm Doctor Caplin from disease control," Sam says.
"Can I see some ID?" The receptionist asks.
Dean and I snicker as Sam awkwardly fumbles with the ID and trying his best to cover up the part that says bikini inspector on it. He flashes her the ID so fast, there's no way she caught anything it said.
"Now could you direct me to the pediatrics ward please?"
"Okay well, just go down that hall, turn left and up the stairs." The receptionist points out.
Sam nods and thanks the woman before walking back to Dean and I with a major bitch face on his features.
"See, I told you it would work," Dean says, still grinning.
"Follow me it's upstairs," Sam grumbles, still annoyed.
We follow the directions the receptionist gave us and walk down the corridor that leads to the pediatric unit. I glance in every room as we walk by out of pure curiosity but then something makes me stop in my tracks.
In one of the rooms is an old woman, and when I mean old, I mean hella freaking old. She's sitting in a wheel chair, staring out the window at an angle, completely still. This woman looks like she has been in every kid's nightmare after watching a horror film. Her white hair is long and ratty, her skin is beyond wrinkled and her nose is the stereotypical nose every witch wears in Halloween themed movies. And to top it all off, she has an upside down cross hanging on her wall.
"Allie!" Sam whisper yells. He and Dean are already down the hall. I didn't realize how long I was standing here.
I glance back in the room one last time and follow my brothers to the pediatrics area. I have a feeling we'll be visiting this woman again.
In the pediatrics ward, we find a doctor and introduce ourselves from the CDC. The doctor takes us to see some of the kids, filling us in on whats been happening.
"Thanks for seeing us Dr. Heidecker." Dean says.
"Well I'm glad you guys are here, I was just about to call CDC myself. How'd you find out anyways?"
"Oh some GP, I forget his name, he called Atlanta and musta beat you to the punch."
"So you say you got six cases so far?" I ask.
The doctor nods, "Yeah, five weeks. At first we thought it was garden variety bacterial pneumonia. Not that newsworthy. And now..."
"Now what?" Sam asks.
"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."
A nurse comes out of one of the kid's rooms and approaches us, "Excuse me Dr. Heidecker." She hands him a couple of forms to fill out.
Sam continues, "You ever see anything like this before?"
"Never this severe," Heidecker answers.
"And the way it spreads…that's a new one for me," The nurse adds as she waits for Dr. Heidecker to finish signing the documents.
"What do you mean?" I ask.
"It works its way through families. But only the children, one sibling after the other." She explains.
"You mind if we interview a few kids?" Dean asks.
"They're not conscious." The nurse says softly.
"None of them?" Sam asks, surprised.
"No."
This case is starting to mess with my head. Kids being targeted is serious and scary, meaning whoever we're dealing with literally has no heart and is probably one scary son of a bitch to not give a single damn about a child's life. Great.
"Can we, uh, can we talk to the parents?" Dean tries again.
"If you think it will help," Dr. Heidecker shrugs.
"Yeah. Who was your most recent admission?"
Dr. Heidecker points to a man sitting in the hospital waiting room with his head in his hands. I can't imagine the position he's been put in – watching a member of your family suffer and knowing there's nothing you can do about it. It splits my heart in two.
We walk over to him and softly introduce ourselves, asking him if we can ask a couple of questions.
He tells us a little about what happened. Both of his kids got sick one after the other. He blames himself, thinking he left the window open, which is how the girls got sick.
"I should get back to my girls," He says after telling us his small story.
Sam nods, "We understand that, and we really appreciate you talking to us. Now you say Mary is the oldest?"
The man nods, "Thirteen."
"Ok. And she came down with it first, right? And then…"
"Bethany the next night."
"Within 24 hours?"
"I guess," He shrugs. "Look I already went through all this with the Doctor."
"Just a few more questions if you don't mind." Dean says. "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?" I ask.
"The first time I don't really remember but the second time for sure. And I know I closed it before I put Bethany to bed."
"So you think she opened it?"
"It's a second story window with a ledge. No one else could have." The man says.
By the end of the interview, I was starting to get my doubts. Honestly, this entire thing sounds like just a random outbreak of an unknown disease against kids with weaker immune systems, which is both good and bad – good because its not some crazy freak victimizing little kids, but bad because there's nothing the three of us could do to stop it.
"You know this might not be anything supernatural," I say. "It might just be pneumonia."
Dean shrugs, "Maybe. Or maybe something opened that window. I don't know man, Dad sent us down here for a reason. I think we may be barking up the right tree."
I roll my eyes. Of course Dean's only reason for not thinking this case has nothing to do with us is Dad.
"I'll tell you one thing." Sam says.
"What?"
"That guy we just talked to? I bet it will be a while before he goes home."
Breaking into someone's home. The idea puts a smile on my face. It's been a while since we've done that.
It was pretty easy figuring out which one was the little girls' room. It was painted pink with flowers plastered all over the walls. I like to think this is how my room would have looked like if we grew up normal and I happened to be somewhat girly.
Sam and Dean actually check around the room as I daydream about life without hunting.
"You got anything over there?" Sam asks Dean as they both walk around with EMF meters.
"No nothing," Dean says.
"Yeah, me neither." Sam sighs.
I walk over to the window, which seems to be the reason everyone is getting sick. I open it up and something catches my eye. Imprinted on the white windowsill is a black hand print. It doesn't look just like any handprint. Its long and skinny, almost like the creature's hands were made out of tree branches.
"Looks like you were right, Dean," I say, always hating to admit that. "It's not pneumonia."
Sam and Dean walk over to where I am and inspect the hand print.
"It's rotted," Sam says, confused. "What the hell leaves a handprint like that?"
I glance up at Dean for an answer. His facial expression went from optimistic to rock hard real fast. My eyebrows furrow and I look at Dean concerned.
"Dean?"
Dean stares down at that handprint with hatred. "I know why Dad sent us here. He's faced this thing before. He wants us to finish the job."
I glance over at Sam to see if he had any recollection of Dad fighting this thing. Except he looks just as confused as I do.
On the way to look for the nearest motel, Dean tells us briefly about what he thinks this thing is. He calls it a shtriga. Sounds made up? Yeah I thought so too.
"So what the hell is a shtriga?" I ask again as we pull up to the motel.
"Kinda like a witch I think. I don't know much about them." Dean says.
"Well I've never heard of it." Sam says. "And it's not in Dad's journal."
"Dad hunted one in Fort Douglas, Wisconsin, about 16-17 years ago. You were there, you don't remember?" Dean says. His hard demeanor never changed. Something was bothering him about this case and he was being really secretive about it.
"No." Sam says.
"Guess he caught wind the thing's in Fitzburg now and kicked us the coordinates."
I sit myself up and rest my elbows against the back of Sam and Dean's seats. "Wait, so this…"
"Shtriga." Dean finishes for me.
"Right, you think it's the same one Dad hunted before?" I ask.
"Yeah, maybe."
"But if Dad went after it, how come it's still breathing air?" Sam asks.
"Cause it got away." Dean says shortly.
"Got away?"
Yeah Sammy it happens!" Dean says, quickly getting frustrated.
"Not very often."
"Well I don't know what to tell ya, maybe Dad didn't have his wheaties that morning." Dean says, parking the car and getting out of it.
Sam and I sigh and hop out too. "What else do you remember?"
"Nothing, I was a kid all right?" Dean says defensively.
Dean leaves us out by the car while he checks us in with the receptionist.
"He knows something he's not telling us," I say, watching him like a weirdo through the window.
"You think?" Sam says sarcastically.
My phone beeps with a new text message. I pull it out of my back pocket, and my heart drops when I see it's finally Chris getting back to me about my voicemail. I didn't know what to expect. Him telling me to fuck off? Him telling me he still wants to be with me? I nervously open the text.
Where are you? I'll meet you.
The kid doesn't even know where I am, yet he's ready to travel just anywhere to see me. That was one of things I loved about him. I thought he was selfless, always coming to my aid when I needed him no matter where I was in the country. But I guess I was wrong. He was just doing it for the pay grade.
"You okay?" Sam asks, noticing my change in attitude too.
"Yeah, I'm fine." I say, stuffing my phone away.
Do I tell him where I am so we can talk in person? Or do I just make the phone call and make everything short and simple.
"Let me guess," Sam says, tucking his hands into his front jeans pocket. "That was Chris?"
"Maybe," I say shortly and look back at the window. Dean's looking at is, holding up the keys to indicate he got us a room and to follow him.
"Don't you think you should tell him?" Sam says, motioning towards Dean.
Sam and I grab our duffels and follow Dean to the motel room.
"Yeah, maybe when we're dead." I say bluntly.
When Dean gets us a room, we settle down and Sam immediately goes to work on researching whatever he could find on the shtriga. Dean is still acting weird, but whatever was weighing him down on the car ride here as slightly subsided.
"Well you were right. It wasn't very easy to find but you were right. Shtriga's is a kind of witch. They're Albanian, but legends about them trace back to ancient Rome. They feed off spiritus vitae." Sam says.
"Spiri-what?" Dean asks.
"Vitae. 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?" I ask, walking to the fridge to grab a beer.
Sam shrugs, "It's a thought. 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 finishes.
"Yeah, probably because they have stronger life force. And get this. Shtriga's are '...invulnerable to all weapons devised by God and man.'" Sam reads from the computer screen.
"No, that's not right. She's vulnerable when she feeds." Dean says, taking both Sam and I off guard. How would he know?
"What?" I ask.
"If you catch her when she's eating you can blast her with consecrated wrought iron. Ahhh...buckshots or rounds I think." He says.
"How do you know that?"
"Dad told me," He shrugs. "I remember."
"Oh. So uh, anything else Dad might have mentioned?" Sam asks. Yeah, it would have been nice to know this in the beginning. Now Sam might have been doing research for no reason.
"Nope, that's it."
Sam and I continue to stare at him. Once again, it was like we were back in the impala on the ride here. Dean is keeping something from us – something about this hunt. And for some reason, he wasn't telling us.
"What?" He asks, looking between the two of us.
"Nothing," Sam shakes his head, sending me one last look before moving back to business. "Okay. So, assuming we can kill it when it eats we gotta find the thing first. It ain't gunna be a cakewalk. Shtriga's take on a human disguise when they're not hunting."
"What kinda human disguise?" Dean asks.
"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 crosses the room and swipes the map off the dresser. "Hang on."
"What?" I ask.
"Check this out." Dean lays the map across the table Sam is working at. I walk over to them and observe the map. There is a couple circles drawn in the area. "I marked down all the addresses of the victims. Now these are the houses that have been hit so far, and dead center?"
"The hospital," I say after noticing that the addresses literally circle the hospital that they're staying at. Then I remembered the old woman – how creepy she was and the upside down cross on her wall. "Wait, when we were at the hospital I saw this patient. She was an old woman."
"An old person, huh?" Sam says.
"Yeah," I say.
Sam and Dean look at each other with a look that says they don't trust where this is going.
"In a hospital? Phew." Dean says sarcastically. Sam lightly snickers at the comment.
I roll my eyes. "Well listen smart ass, she had an inverted cross hanging on her wall."
Finally I catch Sam and Dean's attention and their expressions turned more serious. I quirk an eyebrow up and grab my coat, knowing that our next stop was back at the hospital.
The three of us sneak back into the hospital with guns hidden in our jacket. Before we turn a corner, the boys hear Dr. Heidecker and duck back behind a wall. I'm so distracted in the head, I didn't hear him and Sam had to yank me back by my jacket to crouch down next to them.
"Good night Dr. Heidecker." A nurse says.
"See you tomorrow Betty," The doctor says.
We wait until Dr. Heidecker passes us before continuing to the old woman's room. Dean opens the door and takes the lead inside. The woman is still in her wheelchair, looking out the window like when I saw her the first time. We slowly pull our guns out and Dean leans in closer to her face. He gets so close, I'm confused as to why she's not attacking.
Suddenly, the old woman snaps her head up. "Who the hell are you!"
Dean freaks out, falls back against the cabinet and points his gun out of fear. If this woman wasn't so scary, I would fallen on my ass laughing hysterically at Dean's reaction.
The old woman turns her head in our direction. Her eyes are glossy and I can tell she has cataracts when Sam turns the light on.
"Who's there? You trying to steal my stuff?" She grumbles to herself. "They're always stealing around here."
"No! Ah, ma'am, we're maintenance. We're sorry. We thought you were sleeping." Sam stutters out of fright.
"Ah, nonsense. I was sleeping with my peepers open." She laughs and gestures to the wall. "And fix that crucifix would ya? I've asked four damn times already."
My head drops in disappointment. I really thought this woman was going to be the center of our problem but in reality, she's just a really creepy old lady with cataracts and scary hair.
Sam was making jokes the whole way back to the motel, Dean was still shaking, and I was still annoyed that I was wrong.
"I was sleeping with my peepers open!" Sam cackles as we step out of the impala.
"I almost smoked that old girl I swear." Dean shakes his head. "It's not funny!"
"Oh man you should've seen your face," Sam snickers.
"Yeah, laugh it off. Now we're back to square one, thanks to Allie."
"I said I'm sorry!" I say loudly. Dean also kept blaming me on the car ride back.
Dean pauses before we walk down the hallway to our motel room. He looks at the small kid behind the front desk and tilts his head. "Hang on."
While Dean leaves to go talk to this small kid, I pull out my phone and decide to text Chris our location so that we can talk and get this over with. A small part of me actually wants to see him again, so I can only hope that when he comes, I have the self-control I need to not make any impulsive decisions.
While Dean's distracted, I ask Sam to help me out. "Can I ask you to do me a favor?"
Sam looks at me quizzically, "What?"
"Will you cover for me when I go see Chris?"
Sam looks surprised. "You told him to come?"
I frown at Sam's disappointed look. I didn't want to hear a lecture or hear him talk shit on the situation. I just want him to help me out to keep this secret away from Dean.
"Please, Sam?" I feel stupid for practically begging.
He rolls his eyes, "Fine." He finally agrees.
"Really?" For some reason, I didn't believe him.
"I don't like this at all, but yes I will do it. But you owe me."
"Deal," I say, feeling thankfully.
My phone beeps with another text message. "I'm close to there. I'll be there in a couple hours."
Dean walks back out with the kid and his mother who has a bag full of clothes and a pillow in her hand. She looks like her mind is all over the place. She's looking everywhere, can't form complete sentences, and keeps dropping things in her hands.
"Michael, I want you to turn on the no vacancy sign while I'm gone. I've got Denise covering room service." The mother tells her kid, the one Dean was talking to.
"I'm going with you," Michael says assertively.
"Not now Michael." She says.
"But I gotta see Asher!"
I glance between the mom, Michael, and Dean. I'm slightly confused on what's happening, but my gut instinct tells me it has something to do with this case. I'm also confused by Dean's reaction towards the kid. I don't know why he was so concerned about him. Its not like he was trying to get it in with his mom…he seemed genuinely concerned about the boy ever since we got here.
"Hey Michael. Hey." Dean says softly to Michael. "I know how you feel, but you gotta go easy on your Mom right now ok?"
The mom drops her purse once again and she snaps. "Damn it!"
"I got it," Sam acts quickly and picks it up.
"Thank you," She sighs.
"Listen, you're in no condition to drive, why don't you let me give you a lift to the hospital." Dean suggests.
"No I couldn't possibly – "
"No, I insist. It's no trouble."
The mother pauses and reluctantly hands Dean her car keys. "Thanks." She turns to Michael. "Be good."
Dean helps the mother into the passenger seat of her trucks, then turns around and takes a couple steps towards Sam and I.
"We're going to kill this thing." Dean says. I was right. This is about the case. "I want it dead, you hear me?"
The shtriga is on a mission to take Michael's little brother away, and that made something in Dean snap. Maybe this case was more personal than we thought.
Chris wasn't lying when he said he was only a couple hours away. He was able to get to the motel in less than two hours. He was also in Wisconsin and had just finished a case with Jack and Liam.
Sam said if he was going to cover for me, I had to talk to Chris in our motel room. That way Sam could just walk in at any time if he had too. Of course I tried fighting that. It was like I was sixteen again arguing with Dean about how overprotective he was being. But since Sam was doing me a favor and keeping a secret for me, I went along with it.
Sam went to the library to do his research so I could talk to Chris privately. I was a nervous mess as I waited for Chris. I was hoping to look like a badass when I saw him. I wanted him to know that I was fine without him and that I was happy with where I was at. Although that's far from the truth, it would feel empowering if he believed it.
I was checking myself for what felt like the hundredth time in the mirror when he knocked. And I knew it was him because it was our special knock – like a code for me to know it was him. We use to use it when we met up last year.
I take a deep breath, and put on my best confidence face. I open the door and see Chris. His hands are tucked into his jacket pocket sheepishly and he glances up from his shoes when I'm standing in front of him. His lips quirk up lopsidedly and I can tell it isn't forced. Maybe he is genuinely happy to see me.
I feel awkward because I want to be happy to see him too. He looks really good and even looks like the guy might have changed. But I can't fall back into his arms again. I refuse to put myself through that again.
"Hey," I say shyly.
"Hey," He says equally as shyly.
I take a step backwards and motion for him to come inside. Chris walks passed me and observes the room that was still quite messy no matter how many times I tried to make it tidy.
"You're rooming with your brothers?" He asks after seeing my stuff mixed with Sam and Dean's.
"Yeah, it's kind of a long story."
If we were still together, I would tell him about the demons that keep popping in and out of my life. And he would hold me, promise to keep me safe, and protect me. He'd call everyday to make sure I was still okay, and he'd do his own research on the side to dig up anything he could about this mystery weapon the demons are looking for. I know he would do that for me because it's what I would do for him.
I didn't realize how soft and girly I was during our relationship until now. He tore my walls down, made my most vulnerable side to come through so he could get to know me. Not the wanna be badass that wants to kill every demon and supernatural creature out there in the world. Not the bratty little sister that tries to impress Dean with how strong she really is. As a woman, I feel like I have to work twice as hard to prove my strength and abilities as a hunter. But when I was with Chris, that was never the case. I felt perfect just being me.
Chris takes a seat at the small round table in the kitchen area and I sit on the edge of the mattress facing him.
"Anyway I wanted to talk to you about Dean." I say. The second I say my brother's name, the look of guilt washes over Chris's face. He looks down at his folded hands, tapping his thumbs together and biting his lip. "I think you've been purposely avoiding him since we split."
"Look, Allie. I love Dean like my own brother but -"
"Then why haven't you called him at least once in past 8 months? He hasn't seen or heard from you in almost a year."
"Well he hasn't necessarily picked up the phone either." Chris argues, and yeah it's a good argument - it's like fighting with Sam about not keeping in contact while he was away at college. But I refuse to let him get off with flying colors.
"We thought our Dad went missing, and not only did Sam come back, but his girlfriend was killed too. We have a lot of shit on our plate." I say, feeling myself starting to get defensive. All my nerves from earlier vanish, and I'm left in protective-sister mode. I take a deep breath. "I told you when we started..." I was about to say 'dating' but I stop myself. Because that's not what that was. We were settling a bet that I wasn't aware of. "... I told you that I wouldn't let it ruin your friendship with Dean."
Chris sighs, "I know. And I miss hanging out with Dean - "
"So then do something about it!" I stand up and speak loudly. My skin starts to get hot and my hands clench into loose fists. If Chris actually missed hanging out with Dean, he would make the effort to continue his friendship with him. But for some reason something was stopping him. And I'm afraid it's my fault.
"I can't!" Chris snaps and stands up too. His face is hard and he's looking down at me with an icy glare. "I can't even think about calling Dean without thinking of what I've done to you. The guilt that's been pent up inside me for the past year makes me want to explode."
"How do you think I feel? If I kill the one good friendship Dean has ever had with someone other than his own family, I would go down in history as the worst sister ever. And to think it was all wasted on -"
I cut myself off, and turn on my heels to look away. I almost went too far, but it doesn't take a genius to figure out what I was going to say. I didn't ask him to come here so I could hurt his feelings. I wanted him to come here so we can settle things to the way they were before. The way they were before Chris and Allie.
"Wasted on me," Chris finishes my sentence softly.
"That's not what I meant." I whisper and turn back around, blinking the tears away from my eyes. Dammit this wasn't supposed to be emotional.
"It's not what you meant to say," Chris corrects me. "But you did." I stay quiet. I couldn't necessarily tell him he was wrong... "Will there ever be a day that you and I can go back to being friends? Or maybe even..."
I shake my head. I wasn't prepared for this. I wanted our conversation to be two minutes at most and centered on Dean. Now he's asking me if I would ever give him a second chance and now my mind and emotions are scattered everywhere.
"I can't look at you without feeling ashamed and embarrassed." I admit. "I'm afraid to ever look Liam and Jack in the eyes, because I know I'm nothing but a joke to them."
"That's not true." Chris takes a step towards me, but I take one step backwards, despite how much I want him to bring me into his arms.
"You broke me," my voice cracks and mentally face palm for showing weakness again. "Every time I get a chance to be with another guy - even if it's for one night, I second guess everything and I end up going home alone because you ruined that for me."
"I loved you, Allie. That part was real. Everything we had was real."
"It was all based on a lie, and you know it."
"I care about you, Als. Hell, I still love you!"
"Don't," I beg. I can't hear that. Not now.
"Tell me what I can do to make it right. To make you stop hating me?"
I unclench my fists and sit back down on the bed defeatedly. "You'll go back to the way things were between you and Dean. We'll pretend that 'we' never happened." I point between the two of us. "That's how it should've stayed."
A silence falls between us. My heart is extremely conflicted with how I feel and how I'm supposed to feel. Despite wanting to hate his guts, I can't. Because a large chunk of me believes that he genuinely loved me all those months ago - hell maybe he still does like he said. But I can't trust him. Not without feeling like a joke.
My phone rings with a new text message from Sam, telling me that he and Dean should be back at the motel in less than a half hour.
"My brothers will be back soon," I say softly. "You should go."
Chris slowly nods understandingly and walks towards the door. He stops in front of it and looks at me one last time.
"Call me if you ever need anything. I'll drop everything to be there for you."
My heart cracks into tiny little pieces, and I force myself to stay seated on this bed. "Thank you." I whisper.
He nods and escorts himself out, shutting the door softly behind him. I hunch above my knees and begin crying into my hands.
I don't care how tough you try to be or how badass you try to be, love breaks you no matter who are you. Maybe that's what makes it so important.
Sam comes back to the mote room first. When he walks in, he's hesitant, and he's looking around like something's going to pop out at him or something.
"He left," I tell him, crossing my arms over my chest.
"How did it go?" Sam asks softly.
I shrug, "Fine. I said what I needed to."
"Do you feel better?"
I bite my lip and look out the window to avoid eye contact. Sam immediately picks up how I'm feeling and walks over and wraps me in his arm. Although I hate feeling like the kind of girl that needs comforting over a broken heart from a boy, I let myself fall into his embrace. I don't cry and I don't hurt. I just let myself be held by my twin brother who will always have my back through thick and thin.
I pull away from Sam and I ask how his research went. Now that I had that final conversation with Chris, I felt better and could finally focus solely on the case.
"Oh," Sam's face lights up as if he just remembered something. "You'll never guess who the shtriga is."
"What? Who?" I ask surprised. I didn't think he would find out who the witch was yet. Damn, Sam works fast.
"The doctor."
"Doctor Heidecker?" I ask.
Sam nods. "Yeah, take a look at this." He hands me a picture from an old newspaper clipping. In the picture was about a dozen men smiling at the camera, one of the men being Dr. Heidecker. "This picture was taken in 1893."
"Holy crap." I say. Who would have saw that coming?
"I know. Dean's on his way back from the hospital now so we can figure out what we want to do."
"Does he know?" I ask.
"Yeah, but I don't think he did anything when he was there."
On cue, Dean walks into the motel room and shakes his head in frustration. "That son of a bitch." He says.
Sam chuckles, "I'm surprised you didn't draw on him right there."
"Yeah, well, first of all, I'm not going to open fire in a pediatrics ward."
"Good call," I point at him.
"Second, it wouldn't have done any good. The bastard's bullet proof unless he's chowing down on something. And third, I wasn't packing, which is probably a good thing cause I probably would have burned a clip in him on principal alone."
"You're getting wise in your old age Dean." Sam smirks.
"Damn right. Cause now I know how we're going to get it." Dean says confidently.
"What do you mean?" I ask.
"Shtriga, works through siblings right?"
"Yeah?" I say, still not understanding where he was going with this.
"Well last night…"
It finally clicks in my brain where he's getting at. "It went after Asher."
Dean nods, "So I'm thinking tonight it's probably gonna come after Michael."
"Well we gotta get him outta here." Sam says like it's the most obvious action to take. Because it is! But Dean shakes his head, thinking the opposite.
"No. No, that would blow the whole deal."
"What?" Sam looks at him incredulously.
"You wanna use the kid as bait? Are you nuts? No! Forget it. That's out of the question." I take a step forward and narrow my eyes at my older brother, confused on why he thinks this would be the best course of action.
"It's not out of the question Allie, it's the only way. If this thing disappears it could be years before we get another chance."
"Michael's a kid." Sam argues. "And I'm not going to dangle him in front of that thing like a worm on a hook."
"Dad did not send me here to walk away." Dean snaps.
"Send you here? He didn't send you here, he sent us."
"This isn't about you Sam. I'm the one who screwed up, all right. It's my fault. There's no telling how many kids have gotten hurt because of me."
Dean walks across the room with his back to us. He leans over the table, hunched over and stressed out. Sam glances at me confused and concerned. I shrug my shoulders, showing that I have no idea what's going on in Dean's mind right now.
"What are you saying, Dean? How is it your fault?" Sam asks. There was a long moment of silence and I was growing more worried by the second. Sam sighs, "Dean. You've been hiding something from the get go. Since when does Dad bail on a hunt? Since when does he let something get away? Now talk to me man. Tell us what's going on."
Dean sighs, "Fort Douglas Wisconsin. It was our third night in this crap room and I was climbing the walls man. I needed to get some air…"
Dean continued to explain what happened almost fifteen years ago. Dad went out for a couple of days to work the case on his own, leaving Dean to watch Sam for those couple of days. However, Dean got antsy being locked in the motel room for days and left to blow off some steam at the arcade. He didn't think anything would happen in those couple of hours, but by the time he got back, he saw the shtriga hovering over Sam while he slept. Dean was too stunned and afraid to shoot at it. Luckily, Dad stormed in just in time to shoot it, but he didn't kill it. It got away.
Now I could finally understand the guilt Dean was feeling on this trip. I understood why he was stuck in his head for the past two days and why he was keeping things from Sam and I. I felt bad that he had this weight on his shoulders. He was only a kid, yet Dad blamed him. It was just how we were raised.
Dean shakes his head, "Dad just grabbed us and booked. Dropped us off at Pastor Jim's about three hours away where Allie was staying, but by the time he got back to Fort Douglas the shtriga had disappeared, it was just gone. It never surfaced until now. Dad never spoke about it again, I didn't ask. But he...ah...he looked at me different, you know? Which was worse. Not that I blame him. He gave me an order and I didn't listen, I almost got you killed."
"You were just a kid…" Sam says softly.
"Don't. Don't. Dad knew this was unfinished business for me. He sent me here to finish it."
"But using Michael, I don't know Dean. I mean, how bout one of us hides under the covers, we be the bait."
"No it won't work. It's gotta get close enough to feed it'll see us. Believe me I don't like it, but it's gotta be the kid."
"Wait," I look at Dean and tilt my head. Although it doesn't pertain to this case, there was one part of Dean's story that left me bewildered. "Where was I when you guys were in Fort Wisconsin?"
"I told you. Pastor Jim's." Dean says.
"But why? Why would Dad take Sam and not me?"
Dean shrugs, "I think you were sick or something. I don't know, Allie. That doesn't matter right now." He says frustratingly.
I close my mouth and decide not to push it. Although, it didn't sound like Dad just to drop me off to someone else because I had a slight fever.
"Fine." Sam says. "We'll do it your way. But we've got to plan it out carefully."
Dean nods and walks out the door towards the motel reception area where I'm sure he was about to tell Michael the plan. I can bet 100 dollars that it doesn't go well.
I walk with Sam and Dean to the front desk that Michael is working. I get that the mother didn't have much of a choice leaving him in charge, but seeing a kid younger than a teenager in charge of a motel reception desk is just weird.
As soon as Dean told him what was going on, the real reason behind Asher's illness, and what we planned to do with Michael, he immediately freaked out and threatened to call the cops.
"You're crazy! Just go away or I'm calling the cops."
"Hang on a second. Just listen to me. You have to believe me ok? This thing came through the window and it attacked your brother. I've seen it. I know what it looks like. Cause it attacked my brother once too."
After hearing Dean's similar story, Michael lowers the phone he was threatening to call the cops with. "This thing…is it…like…it has this long…black robe?"
Dean's face went hard as he clenched his teeth. "You saw it last night didn't you?"
"I thought I was having a nightmare."
"I'd give anything not to tell you this but sometimes nightmares are real." Dean tells him. I look down at my shoes and grimace. I hate ruining the childhood of little kids.
"So, why are you telling me?"
"Because we need your help." I say, trying to take off some weight off Dean's shoulder.
"My help?"
"We can kill it. The three of us, that's what we do. But we can't do it without you." Dean says, taking the main role again.
"What? No!" Michael says like we're crazy people.
"Michael listen to me. This thing hurt Asher. And it's going to keep hurting kids unless we stop it, understand me?"
If Michael is like any of us, he's not going to let us his brother suffer if there's something he can do to stop it.
However, I was wrong.
"Well that went crappy." Dean swings the motel door shut behind us.
"What did you expect? You can't ask an adult to do something like that, much less a kid." I tell him.
There's a knock at the door that cuts us off. Dean goes to answer it and surprisingly, it's Michael.
"If you kill it, will Asher get better?" He asks.
"Honestly?" Dean says, glances back at us, and shrugs his shoulders. "We don't know."
"You said you were a big brother," Michael asks Dean, to which Dean nods. "You'd take care of your little brother? You'd do anything for him?"
"Yeah I would," Dean nods. "My sister too."
Michael nods agreeing, "Me too. I'll help."
My eyes almost pop out of my head. I was surprised, but relieved that he said yes. Dean nods, surprised as well and welcomes Michael into our room so we can go over the plan.
Dean sets up the security cameras in Michael's bedroom that he shares with Asher while Sam and I stayed in the next room over, watching the monitor.
"This camera has night vision on it so we'll be able to see clear as day." Dean explains to Michael as he adjusts the cameras in one of the corners. Dean looks over his shoulder and raises his voice. "Are we good?"
"A hair to the right." Sam replies. Dean adjusts the camera accordingly. "There, there."
"What do I do?" Michael asks him.
Dean crosses the room and sits on one of the beds. "Just stay under the covers."
"And if it shows up?"
"We'll be right in the next room. We're gunna come in with guns. So as soon as we do you roll off this bed and you crawl under it."
"What if you shoot me?"
"We won't shoot you. We're good shots. We're not going to fire until you're clear ok? Have you heard a gunshot before?"
"Like in the movies?" Michael asks innocently.
"It's gunna be a lot louder than in the movies. So I want you to stay under the bed, cover your ears, do not come out until we say so. Understand?" Michael nods slowly and now that this plan is becoming a reality, he's starting to look scared. "Michael you sure you wanna do this?" Michael doesn't answer for a long pause and I get nervous he's going to back down. "You don't have to, it's okay. I won't be mad."
"No I'm ok. Just don't shoot me." Michael says.
"We're not going to let anything happen to you, I promise."
Michael hops under his covers and Dean comes back into our room. He passes us an apprehensive look and sits next to me.
For hours, we watch the security camera feed from Sam's laptop in silence. I figured the quiet was due to Dean's stress. This was his final chance to kill this thing for who knows how long and if we screw it up he's going to be extremely disappointed in himself. And self-hating Dean is the worst kind of Dean. But this silence was killing me. Even Sam was quiet.
"If neither one of you talk to me in the next five seconds I'm going to go crazy." I finally snap.
"Shhh," Dean instantly shushes me. I roll my eyes and slump in my chair. I get we were on a mission to kill this thing, but until then, I'm bored as hell. "What time is it?"
Sam glances at his watch. "Almost 3. Are you sure these iron rounds are gonna work?"
"Consecrated iron rounds, and yeah it's what Dad used last time." Dean explains.
There's an awkward pause between the three of us as we think about the past, our crazy upbringing, and the weight on Dean's shoulder.
"Hey Dean I'm sorry." Sam says quietly.
"For what?"
"You know, I've really given you a lot of crap, for always following Dad's orders. But I know why you do it."
I look between my brothers confused.
Dean doesn't say anything, and at first I thought it was because he was pissed. But then he points to the screen. "Wait, look."
I immediately look at the window through the computer screen. A shadow moves across the window pane and opens the window. The three of us snap out of our chairs and get our guns ready. The head of the shtriga pokes inside Michael's room. This things creepy as shit. The black robe freaks me out. Its like watching someone dress up like the bitch from the movie "Scream."
"Now." Sam says.
"Not yet," Dean says, keeping us in our own room.
I watch Dean like he's a crazy person. He keeps his stare on the computer screen waiting for the shtriga to get closer to Michael who is frozen in fear under his covers.
"Dean…" I say slowly. The thing was too close to Michael for comfort.
Dean nods, "Now."
Sam, Dean, and I busted into Michael's room by kicking down his door. By the time we got in there, the shtriga was drawing on Michael's energy.
"Hey!" I scream to get it's attention.
"Michael, down!" Dean yells.
Michael rolls out of his bed and under it. My brothers and I immediately start shooting at the shtriga and it falls to the ground. It lies still, and I think we finally killed the sucker.
"Mike, you all right?" Dean says.
"Yeah," Michael confirms.
"Just sit tight," Dean tells him and inches towards the shtriga.
Dean walks over to the shtriga with his gun raised. He stares at the thing and kicks it lightly. When the shtriga doesn't move, Dean's shoulders slump in relaxation and glances at Sam and I.
The suddenly, the shtriga rises and grabs Dean by the throat, throwing him against the wall.
"Dean!" Sam screams for him.
I run over to Dean but I'm instantly tossed into a different wall. I hear another thump and figure Sam was next on the list to toss around like a piece of trash. The shtriga is now hovering over Sam and drawing on his energy to complete what he missed out on about 15 years ago.
"Hey!" Dean says loudly.
The shtriga looks up and Dean shoots a bullet between the thing's eyes. The shtriga falls down and Sam gasps for breath.
"You ok little brother?" Dean asks. Sam nods and Dean moves to help me up. "You?"
"Dandy," I say.
We walk over to the shtriga with more caution this time. However, the crystal blue energy smokes out of the shtriga's mouth. Dean shoots it three more times for good measure at point blank range. The shtriga disintegrates like some dust. And now I finally believe its dead.
Michael peeks his head out from under the bed.
Dean sees him and waves him out, "It's okay Michael, you can come on out."
Michael walks over and stands next to us. Dean places his hand on Michael's shoulder and smiles. It reminds me of when we were little and did something well on a hunt. I can't help but crack a grin at Dean showing his sweet spot for a little kid and the fact that Dean finally got his closure.
When the sun rises, we're all itching to get out of town as quickly as possible. All this town brings his bad memories for Dean and sick children, and it's bringing me down in the dumps.
As Dean goes to return our motel key, Michael's mom appears from behind the reception desk.
"Joanna. How's Asher doing?" Dean asks.
"Have you seen Michael?" Joanna asks.
"Mom! Mom!" Michael runs up to her from behind Dean.
Joanna bends down to hug him, "Hey!"
"How's Ash?" He asks.
"Got some good news. Your brother's going to be fine." She ruffles Michael's hair.
"Really?" Michael asks, grinning from ear to ear.
"Yeah, really. No one can explain it. It's a miracle. They're going to keep him in overnight for observation and then he's coming home."
"That's great," Dean comments.
"How are all the other kids doing?" I ask.
"Good. Real good. A bunch of them should be checking out in a few days. Dr. Travis says the ward's going to be like a ghost town."
"Dr. Travis? What about Dr. Heidecker?" Sam asks.
"Oh he wasn't in today. Must have been sick or something." Joanna shrugs.
"Yeah. Must have." Dean says, although all of us know that's crap and we killed it a couple hours ago.
Joanna looks back down at Michael, "So, did anything happen while I was gone?"
Michael glances at Dean and smiles, "Nah, same old stuff."
"Ok. You can go see Ash." Joanna says.
"Now?" Michael says excitedly.
"Only if you want to." Joanna smiles. Michael runs to the car in excitement. Joanna laughs as he runs to the car. "I'd better get going before he hot wires the car and drives himself."
She smiles and waves goodbye to the three of us. As soon as their car pulls away, my brothers and I walk to the impala.
"It's too bad," Sam says.
"Oh, they'll be fine." Dean says dismissively.
"That's not what I meant. I meant Michael. He'll always know there are things out there in the dark, he'll never be the same, you know?" There's a long pause between us and I stare down at my shoes to avoid eye contact. "Sometimes I wish that..."
"What?" Dean says, and I hope to god this doesn't lead to another fight.
"I wish I could have that kinda innocence."
Dean sighs and glances between Sam and I. "If it means anything, sometimes I wish you could too. Both of you."
I've always known Dean wished that we weren't brought into this life. Especially Sam and I. But honestly, I wouldn't have this life any other way.
DEAN'S POV
After driving 14 hours straight, I decided we needed to find a motel to take a much needed rest. Allie passed out the second we found a room. I know I was distracted for the past couple of days, thinking about how I screwed up 15 years ago, but I saw something bothering Allie in the beginning of our hunt. I know Allie like the back of my hand, and I know when she's keeping something from me. I meant to ask her about it as soon as we settled in, but I didn't realize how tired she was until she was dead asleep the second she laid her head on a pillow.
I pull out my phone to call Dad and give him an update on that hunt he sent us to do. I never really questioned why Allie wasn't on that hunt with us, but ever since she asked, I couldn't help wondering why too.
However, my phone is dead and I don't have the patience to dig through my duffel bag to find the charger but I see Allie's right on the nightstand.
"Sam," I say, as he lounges on the other bed. "Pass me Allie's cell."
I see Sam slightly tense up at my request. "Why?" He asks.
I didn't get why he was so curious about me using Allie's phone. But it only made me more curious as to why she was acting weird in the beginning of this hunt.
"Because I need to call Dad and mine's dead. What's the matter with you?"
Sam sighs and tosses me Allie's phone. I give him a weird look before turning her phone on. Her screen opens to old text messages from when she last used her phone. Usually I would just ignore these and move on to what I was actually using her phone for, but something stops me.
She has messages from a contact in her phone named "ASSHOLE." At first I thought it may have been me or Sam. I remember she put me in her phone as "Idiot" one time when she got mad at me when she was 19. But the messages didn't make sense for it to be Sam and they were definitely not from me.
"I'm in room 204 if you want to talk."
"I'm sorry for what I did."
"Just know I will always be there for you. Call me if you need me."
I glance over at Allie and narrow my eyes at her sleeping figure. I knew she was hiding something from me.
I instantly go into big brother mode and press "Call" on "Asshole's" contact. I look up at Sam who's watching me nervously, noticing my change in mood. The phone rings agonizingly long, but finally someone answers on the other line.
"Allie?"
The voice is familiar – too familiar that it makes me nauseous.
It was Chris Hanson.