Bloody Mary

We're in Toledo, Ohio. We have just arrived and I don't even want to begin to explain how long we've been in this damn Impala to get where we are. I sigh and rub my neck, while Dean parks the car. We're both silent, Sam is still sleeping. He fell asleep about three hours ago and hasn't opened his eyes since. Both me and Dean are very glad he's finally in, he started to get on our nerves. Normally, Sam is not very difficult when he hasn't had a lot of sleep. He never has been. He just yawns a lot and becomes a little slower than he usually is. Mostly, that's all it does to him. However, since Jess's death and since the nightmares, Sam has actually gotten afraid to go to sleep. He relives the death of his girlfriend in his dreams and I understand why that makes him anxious to close his eyes. That doesn't mean he should deliberately choose to stay awake though. He does. He delays going to sleep as long as he can, drinking galleons of coffee. That, together with the lack of sleep, makes him grumpy, cranky and sometimes right out rude. Dean and I started to get worried and had had a few conversations about it already. When we started this drive, all Sam had muttered was "I'm so freaking tired", before he had closed his eyes and had drifted off to sleep. Dean had slowed down the car and had avoided the bumps in the road, while I had shut off the music. All to make sure we didn't wake Sam up.

Right now, we're parked in front of a large building. Dean's reading the article that got us here. He's reading it for the fourth time, to try and figure it out. The article is rather odd. A man was found on the floor in his bedroom with his eyes exploded, or something like that. He wasn't murdered, but also hadn't died from a natural cause. That's what Dean had told me about it. Dean and Sam both thought it was strange and believed it might be a case. I glance at my still sleeping brother. His breathing has been even and relaxed so far. It rapidly changes within the next half our and Dean and I glance at each other. Until now, he'd been fine. Now, his breathing is becoming uneven and rapid. His features start to twitch slightly, a definite sign of a nightmare setting in. Dean lets out a slow breath and glances at me once again. "You'd better just wake him up." I mutter to him, as Sam lets out a strangled whine that makes my heart ache. Dean gives me a nod, before grabbing his brother's shoulder and pushing him roughly. "Sammy, wake up!" He grunts, jolting Sam awake instantly. "Not like that!" I cry out at Dean angrily. Sam glances around in confusion, his breathing caught in his throat. He looks completely disoriented. Dean ignores me and stares at Sam, worry filling his eyes. Sam's gaze locks on Dean's and he inhales deeply. "I take it I was having a nightmare." He mutters drily when he notices the worry in Dean's eyes. I scuff, rolling my eyes in irritation. "Yeah. Another one." Dean states, taking his hand off Sam's shoulder and focusing back on the article still in his other hand. Sam leans back in his seat. "Hey, at least I got some sleep." He tries to reassure Dean, me and himself. Dean is not that easily fooled. "You know, sooner or later we're going to have to talk about this." He replies. Sam looks back at me, still looking quite disoriented. "You okay?" I ask him in concern. He waves me away and glances out of the window. "We here?" He questions. "Yup. Welcome to Toledo, Ohio." Dean nods, handing Sam the article. I lean forward towards Sam so I can read the article with him. "So, what do you think really happened to this guy?" Sam asks slowly as he scans through the article. I know his question was directed to Dean, but I have some thoughts of my own. "Well, do we know of any creatures that, you know…" I start, but I get interrupted rather angrily by Dean. "Sam and I are going to find that out right now, Skye. You can come and let us do our jobs, or stay in the car." He snaps and I pull up my eyebrows in surprise. "What's that about?" I retort, but Dean has already left the car. I angrily grit my teeth and follow him out. "Hey!" I call out to him, definitely not letting this go. "Hey, I was on a plane with a demon last month, okay? Cut me some slack." I skid to a halt right in front of Dean, who puts his hands up with angry eyes. "We are not doing this right now." He argues defensively and I clench my jaws in frustration. "You started this, so don't act like I'm picking a fight. And then again, I was on a plane with a demon a month ago, part of that hunt and part of saving those people. You can't just shut me back out." I snap at him. Sam, who has taken a stance right besides Dean, sighs heavily. "Skye, seriously this is not good timing. Just, just follow our lead here." He interferes, tone heavy with tiredness. I am almost at loss for words at how unfair I'm being treated right now. I have been stuck on a couch for the past three weeks. It took me three weeks to heal from the hunt on that damn plane. I had had a hurting leg, a lot of painful headaches and a few purple bruises that had hurt like hell with every move I made. Both my brothers had forced me to stay put and heal as they did the hunting themselves. Purposely looking for cases that were 'easily solvable', so they wouldn't have to leave me behind in dangerous situations. I had listened to them, for once. Not because I wanted to, but because I knew I could not fight both of them on the subject. However, I had figured that now that I was all healed up and ready to go, they'd let me join in again. And with Dean angrily staring me down and Sam taking his side, it didn't seem that way at all.

Dean, who sees the fire in my eyes, groans loudly. "Damn it, Skye. Not now. We'll talk about this later." He hushes, reaching his arm out to gently grab me, like he always does. I quickly step back to stop him. "Never mind." I hiss at him, turning around and stalking towards the entrance of the big building we're supposed to be headed to. My brothers rush to follow me and I hear Sam mutter something about 'personal conflict' to Dean. That angers me immensely, but I push it down and enter the building. We are here to take a look at the corpse of the man the article was about, to see if we can determine if we have a case or not. With clenched jaws, I think of how I might be very useful here, since I am the one with the highest grades in biology.

Sam and Dean fasten their pace to walk beside me and I can feel both their glances on me. I ignore them completely and lead the way upstairs. We arrive in a small room, where a guy is sitting behind a desk that clearly is the reception. I'm aware that we probably should have made up a story or something, to get us to the corpse. As I start to wreck my brain for what we could possibly tell the guy, Dean stalks up the desk without hesitation. There is a little nametag on the desk, that says: Dr. D. FEIKLOWICZ. As far as I can see, that's not the guy currently sitting at the desk. He looks young and quite arrogant. He's reading a medical magazine with pursed lips, not paying attention to the people that entered the office. Dean looks down at the nametag with a frown, before shaking his head slightly. "Hey." He greets the guy with a bright smile. The guy slowly looks up from his magazine and frowns. "Hey… Can I help you with something?" He asks, his tone flat. I am about to walk forward to play the game right and to help Dean get us to the corpse, when Sam puts a hand on my shoulder and keeps me from interfering. "Yeah, we're the med students." Dean starts convincingly. The guy at the desk leans his head to the side. "Sorry?" He asks in confusion. "Oh, Dr. Fiklovitch didn't tell ya?" Dean asks him. I would have laughed very loudly at the way he pronounced that doctors name, if I wasn't so annoyed with him. "Yeah, we talked with him on the phone. He uh… we're from Ohio state. He's supposed to show us the Shoemaker corpse. It's for our paper." He then explains, with a nod into Sam's direction. "Well, I'm sorry, he's at lunch." The guy tells us, a cocky smile appearing on his face. He is very sure of himself, that's for sure. I know that kind of arrogance, people that think they can do whatever they want with whoever they want. I've met these people, I even went on a date with a guy like that. From the look on this guy's face, he is not going to let us pass him. "Oh… well, he said uh…" Dean stumbles slowly, glancing at Sam shortly, before deciding to change his tactic. "Well, it doesn't matter. You mind showing us the body?" He asks directly. The guy's grin gets even cockier. "Sorry, I can't. But he'll be back in an hour, I mean you could wait for him if you want..." He starts. Dean squints his eyes, I can see he's getting annoyed. "An hour? Oh, we've got to be heading back to Columbus by then…" He starts slowly. Same nods in agreement, to support the story. I stop myself from rolling my eyes. This is not working. "Look, man, this paper's like half our grade, so if you don't mind helping us out…" Dean starts with a smile, but like I predicted, the guy ain't letting us in. "Oh, man, look! No!" He mimics Dean. That's when I get real pissed off and take a step forward. "Your job must suck! I mean, you're sitting here all day, probably making half the money your boss at lunch is making, if you're making money at all… No wonder you're getting cranky." I imply loudly. Dean and Sam both snap their heads in my direction, their faces filled with complete surprise. The guy is now glancing at me and I gracefully flip my hair over my shoulder and let my leather jacket fall further open. "Excuse me?" The guy asks, taken aback by my sudden outburst and my sudden presence. He didn't even see me before; his attention had been on my brothers. I very obviously roll my eyes. "You know, guys, we'll get another body from somebody who does want to help us. And we'll put their name in our papers, to show our gratitude. Maybe we can find someone who has more control over his job and is allowed to do more…" I have turned to the side, to talk to Dean loudly. I grin when I hear the guy rise out of his chair. "Hey…" He starts defensively. I turn back around, making sure my hair swirls around my head. "Maybe you should find another job, dude. I mean, come on. We all know this won't get you the success you so clearly desire." I tell him directly to his face. He raises his eyebrows, his ego is definitely getting bruised as I'm attacking him. He's also really starting to notice me and his eyes move up and down my body. "Hey, I have control in here." He then tells me defensively, puffing up his chest as he talks to me. "Well, if you really did, you'd help us." I challenge him. Without a second thought, he sticks his hands towards the door. "After you." He tells me, his cocky smile reappearing on his face. I give him my sweetest smile, before approaching the door. Dean and Sam follow my lead and when I glance over my shoulder at them, I can see the shocked confusion all over their features. I can see that Sam's impressed and that there's anger in Dean's features.

The guy leads us towards the examination room, where the corpse we need to inspect is displayed on a medical table. I feel creeped out as I look at it. I've never really liked corpses that much, especially since I know they could come back to life if something supernatural was in play. The thought of that is so unnatural for me, I always make sure I keep my distance. The guy takes place on the other side of the table and then expectantly looks at me. "What was the first question again, Sam?" I ask my brother directly, to get this thing on the run. "Oh yeah, well the newspaper said… uh… said that his daughter found him. She says is eyes were bleeding?" Sam slowly questions. The guy looks up, lifting the blanket and exposing the whole, naked corpse. He didn't have to do that, but now that I have put him in this position, he wants to show us he is in indeed in control. "Yeah, they practically liquefied." He answers shortly, pointing at the empty sockets of the corpse where the dead man's eyes used to be. It's looks quite disgusting and scary and if I'm honest, I'd rather look away. "Any sign of a struggle? Or maybe a sign of someone doing this to him?" Dean asks. The guy winks at me, before answering the question my brother asked him. I let out a small sigh. "Nope, besides the daughter, he was all alone." He tells Dean. "What was the official cause of death?" I continue on that thread. He beams at me. "The doc is not sure, he's thinking massive stroke, maybe an aneurysm. Something burst up in there, that's for sure." He sums up. Sam frowns at that. "What do you mean?" He asks and the guy leans a little closer. "Intense cerebral bleeding. This guy had more blood in his skull, then anyone I have even seen." He continues in a mysterious, low tone. Dean rolls his eyes. This guy is clearly annoying him and I can understand that. "The eyes… What would cause something like that?" Sam wonders, quite taken aback himself. This stuff indeed doesn't normally happen. "Capillaries can burst. See a lot of bloodshot eyes with stroke victims." The guy mutters. "Yeah? You ever seen exploding eyeballs?" Dean asks the guy. He grins. "Nah, that's a first for me." He answers. I scoff loudly. I know we're not done here, I know Dean's probably gonna want to see the police report, so time to start up my act again. "Yeah, but you're not the doctor." I tell him with raised eyebrows. "Hey, I'm the one who examined the body, you know." He tells me defensively. "Sure. Hey can you show me the police report." I ask him in a challenging tone. "Why would you want that?" He asks in confusion. "Well, to see if this fits with what the police said, you know. Not to check up on you, but…" I start casually and see the guy is lost in a war with himself. "Well, I'm not supposed to…" He starts hesitantly, but when he sees my sarcastic look, he nods shortly. He grabs it for us and I hand it to Dean, so he can get a look at it. Dean raises his eyebrows disapprovingly at me, before scanning through it quickly. He hands the report back to the guy and signs at me that we can leave. Sam picks up on it. "We've got to go, come on." Sam mumbles, grabbing my arm and pulling me back slightly. Dean turns around and starts walking away. Sam and I are about to follow, when the guy interrupts us, grabbing my other arm.

"Hey, uh… Do you think, you know after you've finished your paper… You know, we could uh…" He starts nervously. Sam's eyes grow wide and Dean immediately turns back around instantly, his eyes flaming. "Is he for real? Is he actually trying to ask you out?" Sam whispers to me, astonished. I am quite shocked myself, but then again, this dude thinks I'm a college student. Dean interferes before I can say anything. "Hey! No! Don't you even think about it, she's sixteen for crying out loud. No! No, no, no!" He snaps at the guy, then wraps his fingers a little tighter around my arm. He stalks out, dragging me with him. I cannot stop a few chuckles coming out as I let him drag me away. As soon as we're out and back in the hallway, Dean stops dead in his tracks and turns around to glare at me. "What, in God's name, was that?" He asks me, still too stunned to actually sound angry. "What?" I ask as Sam too, is staring at me in judgement. "I had it, you know. He was about to let us in before your tirade." Dean snaps. I pull up my eyebrows. "No, he wasn't and you know that. I knew what type of guy that was and how to crack his ego enough, to make him want to prove himself. It was just an act to get him to let us in, no big deal!" I explain in annoyance. Sam sighs. "Yes, big deal. You are not a hunter; you don't talk or interact during the investigation. We had it." He tells me strongly. I let out a cry of frustration. "O my God, are you serious? I helped, I made sure we, or at least you two, had a chance to examine that body!" I am almost yelling, my voice echoing through the halls. It scares me and I stop. "Okay, you know what, out! Now!" Dean snaps and grabs my shoulders, pushing me towards the staircase in frustration. I heave my eyes to the ceiling, but start walking down. Dean and Sam start a conversation about their findings behind me, making sure not to include me in that conversation the best they can. I grit my teeth together as I listen. "Might not be one of ours, you know. Might be some freak medical thing." Sam starts. Dean raises his hands into the air. "How many times in dads long and varied career, has it actually been a freak medical thing and not some sign of an awful supernatural death." He argues. "Uh, almost never." Sam agrees slowly. "Exactly." Dean nods. "Alright, let's go talk to the daughter. She might give us an insight in what the hell is going on." Sam suggests. I have reached the exit door and push it open. I walk towards the Impala and wait impatiently for Dean to open it up. I take place in the backseat and watch my brothers get in as well.

"You can drop me off at any motel." I tell them, as the car comes to life. I get two confused stares. "What? Now you want us to drop you off?" Sam asks, looking lost. I nod shortly. "Yes, I don't want to be in the same area with you two a second longer." I tell him directly and in a harsh tone. Sam sighs, while Dean turns around in his seat. "Listen, honey…" He starts, but my glare is so angry he stops himself. I can see anger and frustration reflecting in his eyes. Me and Dean have always been very close, but we have also always been able to have the worst fights. I am a lot like him, after all.

"Listen, Skye. We will talk about this later, alright. I want you to come with us." He starts slowly. "Yeah, only because you think I would not be safe on my own in a freaking motel room." I retort sarcastically. Dean slams his hands on the steering wheel in annoyance. "I give up. What the hell is wrong with her!" He cries out to Sam, who shakes his head and turns around to me. "Skye, please drop it for now, before this turns into a nasty fight, okay? We will talk about this later." He tells me strictly. I don't even look at him, I simply stare out of the window and grit my teeth together. An awkward silence rises into the air, as Dean starts the car and drives off. I know that we are going to have to talk about this eventually. They clearly have no idea what's going on and I know that if I do not get to speak my mind soon, I'll explode. When I explode, Dean explodes and that will not be pretty.

I don't say a word throughout the ride and neither do Sam and Dean. The tension starts to come unbearable after ten minutes, but I'm too angry to do anything about it. And I can't seem to lose that anger. The only thing I can keep thinking about, is how all the fussing and leaving me out of things is starting to point to one conclusion. I'm not good enough to do this. Not old enough, still underage, and they know it. I drop my eyes and push away a sadness that entered my stomach, together with another thought. What if they've think, after the hunt on that plane, that I can't become a hunter? That that's the reason why they want to leave me out, so I don't ruin their cases and just get hurt. I am a burden, without me they could solve twice as many cases. Maybe they're right…

Arriving at the house of the daughter that we need to speak to, pulls me back into reality. I get out of the car and make sure I keep a safe distance from both of my brothers. When I'm angry, or in this case actually really upset, I need to keep a distance from people. I don't want anyone close to me.

Sam and Dean walk towards the front of the house and I follow them slowly. The front door is completely open, I guess they're having a service for the father or something. A memorial, where all the relatives and friends come over to talk and be sad together.

I follow my brothers into the house and through the hall. The living room is full of people dressed in formal clothing, it's actually quite intimidating. "We look underdressed." Dean hushes to Sam sarcastically, before walking on in search of the daughter. We don't find her anywhere in the house and we can't really look for her without knowing what she looks like anyways. Annoyed, I step towards the first person I see and ask the man if he knows where she is. He points his finger towards the back door. Outside, a group of girls is sitting on a bench, looking sad and miserable. They're softly speaking with each other.

We approach and they all look up to us in confusion. "You must be Donna, right?" Dean asks the middle girl with short brown hair and dark brown eyes. "Yes." She answers shortly. Dean, unable to come up with a good story for the second time, looks at me. I glare at him viciously, which makes him turn to Sam instead. "Hi, uh we're really sorry." Sam mutters. Donna smiles slightly, her eyes dark and sad. "Thank you." She says in a friendly tone. Sam looks at Dean. "I'm Sam, this is Dean and…" Sam starts to introduce us, but I step forward before he can say my name. "And hi, I'm Skye." I tell her and she nods shortly at me. "We uh, we worked with your dad." Sam makes up a story on the spot and Donna frowns at that, exchanging a look with the blonde girl next to her. "You did? Even you?" She asks, her gaze pointed at me. I smile slightly. "No, I didn't. I'm just here to support my brothers." I tell her in all honesty and she nods, before turning her gaze back to Dean. "Yeah, well we did, though. This whole thing… I mean a stroke…" He mutters. Donna bows her head, a tear running down her cheek. I shake my head slowly, Dean being as subtle as he always is. "I don't think she wants to walk about this right now…" The blonde girl starts to defend Donna, but Donna shakes her head. "It's okay, I'm okay." She reassures her friend, before looking back at Dean, who decides to just start with the questions. "Where there any symptoms? You know, dizziness…?" He asks simply. "No…" Donna starts, furrowing her brows. She's probably wondering why two strangers want to know that. Suddenly, the little girl to her left turns towards her, looking quite scared. I notice as I catch her glance. "That's because it wasn't a stroke." She says in panic. Donna turns towards her. "Lilly, don't say that." She tries to comfort the little girl. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Dean frown. "What?" He asks and Donna turns to him apologetically. "I'm sorry, she's just upset…" She mutters, but the girl seems to think otherwise. "No, it happened because of me." She insists, her eyes growing even wider than they already were. "Sweetie, it didn't." Donna tries to reassure her again, but I'm starting to realize that this little girl might actually think this, that she might know something or saw something. So I smile apologetically at Donna, before slowly walking over to the girl and crouching down in front or her. "Hey sweetheart, why would you say something like that?" I ask her as kindly as I can. She bows her head. "Right before he died, I said it." She tells me hesitantly. I feel a hand on my shoulder and I don't even have to look up, to know it's Sam's. "Said what?" He continues the conversation. I try my best to keep a friendly face on and tilt my head, looking at the little girl. "Bloody Mary. Three times in the bathroom mirror." She explains to me. That's the moment I know for sure that this is our kind of thing. I once almost conjured bloody Mary as a child myself, before I had known about the world of monsters we live in and had just seen it as a silly game. I was around ten and I'd heard about the myth from a girl at school. I'd wanted to try it out at the motel where we'd been staying. I'd said it twice, when Dean had walked into the bathroom and had completely freaked out. That night he had told me about the monsters and that the world I knew was far worse than I already thought it was.

"She took his eyes, that's what she does." The girl frantically explains to me, but Donna decides it's enough and interferes. She must be Lilly's sister, I can see the protectiveness in her eyes. She looks at Lilly in the exact same way Dean always looks at me. "That's not why dad died, this isn't your fault." She tells Lilly soothingly. Lilly turns towards her, her mouth quivering. "Lilly, your sister is right, you know. There is no way it could've been Bloody Mary. Your dad didn't say it, did he?" Dean joins the conversation and gives the little girl a reassuring smile. I look back at Lilly, who seems about to either break down or freak out. "No, I don't think so." She answers Dean. I slowly stand up, swatting Sam's hand from my shoulder now the attention is off of me. He looks at me with a frown, but I'm too angry to even look at him. He doesn't even trust me to talk to a little girl. A hand had to be placed on my shoulder, he had to come over and take over the conversation.

"Thank you, guys." Dean thanks the three girls and turns around. We start walking back towards the house. "We should take a look upstairs, see the bathroom." Dean implies slowly. I nod, following him back inside the house. As soon as nobody is looking, we sneak up the stairs, trying to stop it from creaking too loudly. We are in someone else's house and getting caught upstairs, where we have no business, would be bad for the investigation. We reach the top and soon walk through the corridor, passing multiple doors.

Sam has soon found the bathroom door and he opens it. We stare inside the tiny bathroom and I spot the large stain on the floor, where the pool of blood must have been. It's still reddish. That man must have been petrified. I know I would, if my eyes suddenly started bleeding. Plus, that is indeed way too many blood just to come out of one human skull. "The bloody Mary legend." Sam whispers, as he examines the bathroom. Then he turns to Dean. "Did dad ever find any evidence that this thing is real?" He asks. Dean shortly shakes his head. "Not that I know of." He answers, before stepping into the bathroom, taking a look up close. "I mean everywhere else…" Sam starts, crouching down and rubbing his fingers over the bloodstain. "All over the country, kids play bloody Mary and as far as we know, nobody dies from it." He finishes, standing back up and also stepping into the bathroom. I stay outside while I listen to their conversation, I can see it all clearly from here. "Yeah I know, everywhere else it's mostly a story. I mean I stopped Skye from playing it once, because you should never take the risk, but here it's actually happening." Dean mutters. Sam frowns. "The place where the legend began?" He suggests and I nod in understanding. If the legend started out here, then something must have happened here to make up the story. I mean, legends are always based on some kind of truth. Dean slowly walks over to the mirror. "But according to the legend, the person who says…" Sam starts, but Dean just opened the mirror cabinet and Sam's staring right at himself in the mirror. It stops him from saying 'bloody Mary'. He slams the mirror shut and does not look at it, as he finishes his sentence. "The person who says… 'You know what', gets hurt, but here -." Dean turns around. "Shoemaker gets it instead, yeah." He agrees with his brother's train of thought, not paying any attention to Sam's behavior. "Right…" I mutter and Dean looks at me. "Haven't heard anything like it before." He says. I slowly take a small step into the bathroom. "But still, the guy died right in front of the mirror and I think that little girl was right. The way the legend goes, you know who scratches your eyes out." I comment. Sam turns around to me. "It's worth checking into." He suggests, but suddenly Dean's eyes grow wide and he rushes towards the bathroom door. I heard it too. Footsteps are coming our way and they're loud. From the sound of it, they're heels. Sam rushes out of the bathroom, but it's too late. The blonde girl we met in the garden, is walking towards us, her face looking very hostile. "What are you doing up here?" She asks suspiciously. Dean and Sam glance at each other briefly. "We… We had to go to the bathroom." Dean starts convincingly, but the girl ain't buying it and aggressively steps forward. "Who are you?" She asks. I wait, Dean is going to deny this all at first, that's what always happens when we get busted. "Like we said downstairs, we worked with Donna's dad." Dean indeed starts, but like I expected, he gets caught in his lie. "He was a day trader or something, he worked by himself." The girl tells us and Dean nods, trying to hide his shock. "No, I mean, I know, I…" He starts, but gets cut off. "And all those weird questions downstairs? What was that?" The girl goes on with her interrogation and when neither Sam nor Dean answers, she crosses her arms. "Either you tell me what's going on, or I start screaming." She announces. I chuckle, stepping out of the bathroom, waving at her shortly. "That's a good one, I should try it sometimes." I tell her in a friendly tone. She frowns at me. "Listen, they're not some creepy stalkers or something, okay? They, we, are actually here to help." I explain softly. She loosens up a bit. "Yeah, we think something happened to Donna's dad." Sam backs me up. Now she scoffs. "Yeah, a stroke." She retorts and I point at the bathroom. "That's not the sight of a typical stroke." I point out to her. She stays silent, I know she knows that that's true. "We think it might be something else." Sam adds and the girl fixes her glance on him. "Like what?" She challenges. I sigh deeply. "We haven't figured that out yet, but the reason we're taking this so seriously, is because we don't want anyone else to get hurt." I explain. She slowly backs down a little, now she knows our intention. "So, if you're going to scream, go right ahead." Dean tells her. She bows her head. "Who are you then, cops?" She asks and Sam and Dean glance at each other. "Something like that." Dean answers her and Sam reaches in his pocket. "Tell you what, here." He says and grabs an empty piece of paper. "You think of anything, you or your friends notice anything strange or out of the ordinary, just give us a call." He says, writing down his number and handing it to her. Then he walks past her and Dean and me follow, leaving her a bit confused behind.

We leave the house, get back in the car and soon we're driving through town again. My mind is spinning to try and figure this legend out. We need to find out if there has ever been a 'Mary' in this town, who died in some kind of horrible way. Information like that is probably not out there on the internet, which means there need to be other ways to find that information. When Dean suddenly stops, a few minutes later, and I don't see any motels, I frown. I'm about to ask, when I spot the library sign and nod in understanding. Time to go do the research in the old-fashioned way. Books you can trust, that's what dad always said.

We get out of the car and soon we enter the library. Sam and Dean are discussing the legend. "Alright, say bloody Mary really is haunting this town. There's got to be some kind of proof, right? A local woman who died nasty." Dean implies. "Yeah, but with a legend like this, it's hard man. There's like fifty versions of who she actually is. One story says she's a witch, another says she's a mutilated bride and there's a lot more." Sam explains. I join the conversation. "I once heard of a version that she had died in a car crash and was so sad she didn't look beautiful anymore, that she killed herself with pieces of a broken mirror. And that if you said her name, she would appear and look so horrifying you'd die instantly. But if you didn't, you were supposed to say to her that she still looked beautiful and she'd spare you." I explain. Dean turns his head towards me. "Where did that weird version come from?" He retorts. "I think it's a good version." I disagree, but Dean turns back to Sam. "So, what are we supposed to be looking for?" He asks. "Well, every version has got a few things in common. It's always a woman named Mary, and she always dies in front of a mirror." Sam answers as we walk into the room where the bookshelves are piling up. "So, we got to look into local newspapers and public records as far back as they go. See if we can find a Mary who fits the bill." He goes on. I'm looking around, admiring all the books in front of me. I love books, I always have. I was a big reader as a kid and I still am, whenever I can find the time for it. Reading kind of takes you to another universe, it takes you on a journey you'd never experience in real life. It's an escape, it has always been an escape for me.

"Alright, that sounds annoying." Dean complains, rubbing his hands over his face. "No, it won't be so bad, uh…" Sam tries to reassure his brother, but then spots the line of computers who are very clearly 'out of order'. He huffs. "Huh, I take it back. This will be very annoying." Dean stares at the computers in disgust. "Oh man…" He whines and I shake my head, walking towards the back of the library. Mostly, there's a section in libraries with old newspapers and articles. I've soon found it.

"Here!" I yell and grab the first pile of documents, positioning myself in an old chair that's standing close by. Soon, we're working, skimming through the documents one by one. Not a word is said as we work and not one of us finds anything in the next three hours. It's starting to get late too and soon we're all yawning and groaning with discomfort. "Okay, lets pack up. Take it all with you." Dean announces around eight pm and Sam and I pile up the papers and documents we haven't searched through yet. Dean walks out to open up the car. We get in and soon we're arriving at a motel. Dean checks us in and we, again, sit down in the motel room. I try to make myself as comfortable as I can, skimming through the millions of papers from as far back as 1910. I get tired and very, very bored.

Dean announces he'll get us food and when he comes back, I finally have a distraction. We eat in silence and after that it's back to research again.

Around ten pm, I've seen enough papers and death certificates and I throw them on the floor to make a statement. "I don't know about you, but I'm going to bed." I tell my brothers. I slip inside the little bathroom before they can react. I'm not mad anymore, I can never stay mad at them for long. I am still sad though, but I decide to let it slide. I have no intention to talk about this right now. I am tired and in need of a good night sleep. I change into sweatpants and a sweater, brush my teeth and exit the bathroom.

As soon as I walk back into the room, I see Sam sitting on the left bed, looking at me intently. Dean is still in his chair behind the laptop. I frown and stop dead in my tracks, raising my eyebrows. "Skye, we have to talk about this some time." Sam indicates. I sigh, rolling my eyes. "God, no, not now." I plead, walking towards the empty bed and sit down, rubbing my eyes. Dean looks up from his laptop with a confused look on his face. He hates to talk about feelings. "Now, Skye." He indeed simply orders. I glare at him. "Look, I'm just clueless, okay? I have no idea what happened today." Sam starts. "Yeah, why the hell were you so angry?" Dean turns his head towards me and confronts me with the truth. He looks kind of insulted or something, and that confuses me. "It's hard for me to believe that you don't know what happened today." I retort sarcastically, still hoping they'll drop it and just let me go to bed. Dean raises his hands in the air in defeat and Sam sighs. "I think I know… But I don't want to piss you off more." He suggests and I look at him. "I don't want to talk about this." I tell him again, this time more persistent. He won't let it slide. "Just listen to me, okay?" He pleads softly and I let out an exasperated sigh. "Okay, fine. Hit me." I tell him, still sarcastic. He slowly gets up from the bed. "I think you feel left out. I think you feel like you're less than us, because we won't let you hunt. I think you are pissed, because we refuse to let you in on the case. To fully let you in." He explains, moving towards me. I bow my head slowly, he's not wrong entirely. "I just don't really understand…" I softly mutter, combing my fingers nervously through my hair. "I don't understand why you won't teach me, why you won't let me in. I know it's not what dad wants, but… I guess I always thought you'd back me up. Even just a little…" I can't really seem to say what I really want to say, I can't find the right words. So I fall silent and drop my eyes to the floor. "What makes you think we'd not back you up, darling?" Sam takes a seat on the same bed I'm on, still a good distance away. His voice is filled with confusion. I glance up at him and then at Dean, who pushes back his chair and gets up. "Puppy, what is all this? What's going on in that little head of yours?" He asks me, his voice softening as well. Frustration takes back over and I inhale deeply. "You won't let me in, Dean. I get that I suck okay, at the whole hunting thing. I get that, I don't understand half the things you guys talk about and I get hurt because I don't know how to do everything you do… I know I'm only sixteen, underage and probably the biggest burden you have to carry around, b-but… You can't blame me, okay? I've always been left out, no one ever told me anything. Taught me anything… B-but that doesn't mean I can't learn, right? Or does it?" My voice is starting to rise in volume and even though it feels good to finally spit out what's been weighing heavily on my chest, I hate the words coming out of my mouth. They make me feel small and weak. "Am I really that worthless to you?" I can't stop that last thought from spilling out and purposely stare intently at my own hands. It stays deathly silent around me and when I do dare to look up, both Sam and Dean look too stunned to speak. Dean's the first to overcome his shock. "Worthless? A burden? What the hell are you talking about?" He exclaims, eyes filled with concern. "Really?" His denial is getting me pissed off again. "So you mean to tell me that that's not the reason why you won't leave me alone on a case? Why you won't leave me in a motel room? You keep saying that you know I can take care of myself, but do you?" I can't help my voice breaking in that last sentence and abruptly pull my knees to my chest. "I mean, that has to be why you won't let me do anything but just trail after you guys, right? To make sure I don't mess anything up, or accidentally fall into the arms of a monster. Or…" I can't find more examples anymore and hug my knees tighter to my chest. "If you of all people don't trust me to do anything by myself, then I must be worthless. And the biggest burden." There, I said everything I wanted to keep buried within, but its out there now. And my eyes are burning as I stare at the floor.

Once again, the silence around me is deafening and when I am sure there are no tears threatening to spill out anymore, I dare to look up. Both my brothers are gawking at me, completely stunned. Dean clearly doesn't have a clue what to say and glances at Sam helplessly. And Sam does the only thing he can think of, slowly reaching for me and grabbing my shoulders. He gently pulls me towards him and engulfs me in a warm hug, crushing me to his chest. "God…" He mutters to himself. I bury my face in his chest and feel the burning tears reappear. I am about to let them spill, when very suddenly Sam lets me go and crouches down in front of me, looking into my eyes. "You need to stop thinking like that, Skye. Stop it, now." He commands. I sniffle, glancing at him in confusion. "Do not ever again think you are worthless, Skye Winchester. You are everything but worthless." He adds, glancing at Dean for support. He doesn't get any. I can see Dean has no idea what to do. He just looks at me, kind of stunned to see his little sister, suddenly, almost in tears. Then he lets out a deep sigh. "Sam's right, Skye. I have never, once in my life, thought of you as a burden." He mutters, scraping his throat awkwardly. "Then why? Why all the fighting? Why are you always pushing me away, refusing to teach me anything?" I ask, my voice breaking. It annoys me, I hate the way I sound. I'm coming across more like a five-year-old, instead of the tough female hunter I desire to be. "God, honey, because we want to protect you. We don't want you to get hurt. We don't leave you alone in a motel room because you're sixteen and the world is filled with things that would love to kill you. We leave you out of things, because the job's so dangerous." Sam decides to take the lead and explain, while I just listen. "You are not getting hurt on my watch, pup." Dean adds in agreement. Sam takes a seat next to me and lets out a deep breath. "Listen, we know you're more than capable of becoming a hunter and when the time comes and we do teach you what we know, I'm damn certain you'll be one of the best hunters in this whole damn world." He says and sounds sincere enough for me to believe him. "If becoming a hunter is an option, that is." Dean mutters drily and with a grimace I'm reminded of the other wild factor in my life that has influence on that. My father, who left me out of everything my whole life for a reason. If he knew Dean allowed me on a plane with a demon during a hunt, he'd kill him. And then Sam and then me. "Besides the point, Dean." Sam rolls his eyes, before slowly wrapping an arm around me. "Listen, the fact that we don't want you to become a hunter yet, has nothing to do with your capabilities. You're sixteen and we're afraid we'll lose you. I don't want to see you in any pain…" Sam continues in a soft voice, shivering at apparently just the thought of that. I resist the urge to roll my eyes. "Listen, until you are eighteen you have to deal with our decisions of leaving you out. Like I said, you're not getting hurt on my watch." Dean mumbles reassuringly, crouching down in front of me. "Plus, dad will have my head if he knew we'd even be talking about this." He adds with a cheeky wink and I can't help but chuckle at that knowingly. I feel lighter then I've had in days and even though it's not what I wanted to hear, it's more than I ever thought I'd get. So, I'll take it. "Okay, then…" I simply state. Sam lets out a relieved breath, shaking his head. "Jesus Christ, don't ever scare me like this again!" He tells me, dramatically grabbing his chest. I chuckle and playfully swat his arm. "Yeah man, I thought my days were over." Dean jokes and I roll my eyes. "You two are idiots!" I exclaim and flinch when I get two pokes in my sides as a response. I immediately try to get away. "Oh no, we're not starting this." I warn them, but the grip Sam has me in, is pretty solid. "Starting what?" Dean asks innocently, squeezing my side with a large grin. I squeal and snort out a laugh. "This!" I cry out, moving away from him frantically. Sam effectively blocks me from getting away and simply pinches my stomach with a large smile on his face. "No, Saham!" Giggles are already pouring out of me and I can't stop their attacks. I throw all my energy in trying to get away, but I'm no match for both of them. I've never been. Dean decides a few teasing pokes is not enough this time and with a loud and playful roar, he jumps forward and wraps his arms strongly around my waist, starting to squeeze and prod wherever he can. There's nothing for me to do, but to burst out in laughter, shrieking and struggling as hard as I can. "Dehean geheheht off! NOHOHOHO GEHEHEHET ohohohohff!" I stammer through my laughter, swatting at Dean's attacking hands in a last attempt. "Get off? Nah, this situation called for a more dire form of discipline." Dean states through his own chuckles, digging in deeper. I can't hold back the fits of laughter pouring out of me as I'm trashing around, trying to grab anything I can get my hands on to fight back. My left hand reaches a pillow and I smash it in Sam's direction with all my might. It hits him straight across his face. "Oh, that's it." Sam growls from my left and before I know it, I'm in literal hysterics. I try to beg for mercy, doubling over, but Sam's joined the attack and hits a few sensitive spots on my ribcage that have me howling. It feels like hours before they finally let me go. I roll into a ball and gasp for air, laugh attacks still rocking through my body. Even though I hate it when they use my weakness against me, I cannot get that goofy grin off my face.

"There. Now this discussion is thankfully over and you're thoroughly cheered up." Sam tells me with a large grin on his face. It looks good on him and I realize I have not seen him smile like that in a while. "Yeah, thank the heavens for that." Dean agrees and I roll my eyes, finally able to sit back up. "Come here, you idiot." I chuckle and stand up, wrapping my arms around Dean's shoulder simply to smite him. Then, it's finally time for bed. "Now this lovely dovely shit is over, I am going to bed." I announce, stumbling over to the other bed and letting myself collapse on it. "I think we broke her." I hear Sam laugh. I try to growl at him, but I am too exhausted. I just grumble something, before closing my eyes.

I get slightly woken up by Dean, a few hours later as he slides into the other bed. My eyes flutter open and I can see Sam still sitting at the table in the back, reading through a book with his laptop right next to it. I frown slightly as I squeeze my eyes back shut, the dim lit room still too light for my liking. "Sam…" I start groggily, but Dean hushes me. "Let it go, he won't listen to me and he will certainly not listen to you." He informs me. I am way too tired to protest. I just bury my head in my pillow again, snuggling up in my warm blanket. I listen to the rustling of paper coming from Sam's position and Dean's even breathing, letting it hush me back to sleep.

The next morning, I wake up in the exact position I fell asleep in. I groggily turn my head, noticing Sam is also still in the exact position I saw him in last. At the table, between his laptop and a few books. "Morning." He greets me, once he notices I am awake. His voice is layered with exhaustion. I slowly sit up, seeing Dean stir at the noise in the other bed. "Sam…" I start slowly, but he raises his hand. "Don't." He simply tells me. I sigh, bowing my head. I would love to go off at him and force him to stop for a second and get some sleep, but I do not want to waste my energy. I slowly get out of bed and make my way towards the bathroom. Like Dean said before, we are going to have to talk with him about this behaviour sooner than later. Just like they forced me to talk yesterday. He is clearly choosing the option 'later', though. I still understand, I do. However, it is becoming unhealthy and I cannot help but become more worried with the second.

Once I have showered and gotten dressed, I walk back out the bathroom. Sam has woken Dean up and I watch him slide out the door to get us some breakfast. Sam is moving three books away from the table. I reach for my bag to grab my history book and position myself at the table. I need to study more. I am forcing myself more and more into the hunting life, into my brother's cases. That is great, but I do have to remember I need to graduate high school. Dad would kill me, if I failed. But then again, dad would kill me if he knew what I'd been trying to do the last couple of months. I've always known that I could eventually persuade Sam and Dean, I still know I can. Dad however… I am very, very positive he will be outraged if he finds out, to say the least. It's best that he never finds out. He would not only be pissed at me, but he'd unleash a tirade of fury at my brothers. They don't deserve that, especially Sam.

Sam gets back behind his laptop and starts typing away. He yawns loudly as he does so. I focus on my history book and read all about the Vietnam war. Dean gets back with breakfast a few moments later and we all sit down together, to eat. There's a pleasant silence among us as we all do our own thing.

After breakfast, we all thee focus back on working through the last research we need to do for this case. Sam is getting crankier with the minute and soon positions himself on one of the beds. He's been yawning more and more and just snapped at his brother twice. Once he starts snapping, we know he's exhausted. He is still surrounding himself with research though, but Dean and I wisely stay silent. I know Sam's not planning to fall asleep, but both me and Dean are silently hoping he does. He needs a few good hours for sure.

Dean and me silently work, both scanning through the papers and news articles. When I look up a few minutes later, to check on Sam, he's fallen back on the bed. His eyes are closed, his hands are on his stomach and he is very clearly fast asleep. "Finally." I whisper in triumph. Dean winks at me. "Okay, do not make any noise. I want him to get as much sleep as possible." He whispers back to me. I nod in agreement. Dean and me stay where we are and continue our task. After two hours, I start to get really bored. When I stand up to grab my study books, I notice Sam's legs are twitching. "Dean…" I hiss and point to my brother, who's not peacefully sleeping anymore. Dean frowns slightly and jumps a little, when Sam lets out a strangled groan. Slowly, he starts to trash around. I let out a sigh, I hate to see him like this. It makes me sad. I look at Dean, who sighs too. He decides to not wake him up. "He needs his sleep." He whispers to me. I sit back down at the table and nod in understanding.

It doesn't take long for Sam to wake himself up. We hear a loud gasp and Sam's eyes startle open, his breathing rapid and uneven. Dean snaps his head towards his little brother, who's eyes are now wide open. Sweat is forming on his forehead. "Why did you let me fall asleep?" Sam groggily asks, after a little silence. "Cause I'm an awesome brother." Dean retorts sarcastically, but then sighs and sits up straight. "So, what did you dream about?" He asks, worry in his eyes. "Lollipops and candy canes." Sam answers drily. I shake my head, while Dean slightly grins. "Yeah, sure." He mutters sarcastically, looking back at the paper that's in front of him. My gaze is locked on Sam and I watch him turn his head, so he's able to look at us. "Did you find anything?" He asks. Dean shrugs in annoyance. "Besides a whole new level of frustration? No." He answers, turning towards the book in his lap. "We've looked through everything." I complain slightly. Sam sits up. "A few local women, a Laura and a Catherine, committed suicide in front of a mirror." Dean states slowly and I hold up the paper I was examining. "And a giant mirror fell on a guy named Dave, but that's all I've got. I haven't seen a Mary anywhere." I add. Sam sighs loudly, falling back into the cushions. "Maybe we just haven't found it yet." He mutters tiredly. I stand up from my seat, walking towards the bed. I sit down next to Sam's feet. "We've also started looking at strange deaths in this area." I inform him. "Yeah, you know, eyeball bleeding, that sort of thing. There's nothing." Dean adds. I groan loudly, this is indeed starting to get really frustrating. "Whatever is happening here, it just ain't Mary." Dean concludes. "Well, I ain't saying her name ever again in my life." I imply, making Sam chuckle slightly. He is about to react to me, when the sound of a ringing phone distracts him. He raises his eyebrows, as he grabs his phone and answers. "Hello?" He mutters into the phone. Soon, the atmosphere changes. He sits up, looking concerned. "Hold on, wait a minute. What happened?" He asks, staying silent as he listens to whoever is on the other side of the phone. His eyes grow wide. "Stay there, we're on our way." He then hushes into the phone and hangs up, jumping off the bed. Me and Dean stare at him in confusion as he rushes towards his jacket, shrugging it on. "That was Charlie, the blonde girl we met at the funeral thing. Something happened." Is all he says, but it's enough for me and Dean to spring into action. Soon we're in the impala, racing towards the park where Charlie told Sam she was.

We get out as soon as Dean parked the car and rush towards the bench where the blonde girl is sitting, her head in her hands. She looks up when she hears us approaching and I can see her face is tearstained. "Wow, hey! Charlie, what happened?" I softly whisper, taking place right next to her. She's crying too heavily to say something. Dean sits down on the railing of the bench, Sam stays on his feet. I slowly try to get the girl to calm down a little and she does, once I put my hand on her shoulder. "It's my friend, she's… she's gone." Charlie stammers, sounding helpless. "Can you tell us what happened?" I softly ask her and she nods. "They found her on the bathroom floor… And her – Her eyes…" She sobs, looking up at Dean. "They were gone." She adds miserably. Sam shakes his head slowly. "I'm sorry." He mutters in compassion. Charlie bows her head, tears streaming down her face. "And she said it" She then cries out, grabbing my hand for support. I squeeze it gently. Dean glances at Sam meaningfully. "I heard her say it… But it couldn't be because of that, right?" Charlie mutters, her voice breaking twice while she glances at my brothers. "I'm insane, right?" She adds desperately. Dean turns towards her as I squeeze her hand to comfort her. "No, you're not insane." He tells her reassuringly. It doesn't seem to reassure her at all. "God, that makes me feel so much worse." She whispers through her tears. "Look, Charlie, we think something is happening here. Something bad." I tell her in all honesty. She lifts up her head, wiping away her tears. "Something that can't be explained." Sam adds softly. "Now, we are going to stop it, but we could use your help." Dean adds. Charlie frowns, as she listens. "We need to see the room of your friend." Dean states. Charlie apparently needs no further persuasion. She jumps from the bench and wipes her eyes. "Will that help?" She asks, her tone hopeful. Sam nods. "Yeah, can you get us in there?" He asks. She nods slowly, before pulling me up from the bench. "With her I can." She mutters. I frown at that. "You believe us…" I mutter, astonished, when I realize her eager to help isn't because she thinks we're lunatics, but because she wants to help find out whatever happened to her friend. "I don't know what to believe, but I do want to help." She tells me in all honestly. That's enough for me. "Okay, I can get you two in from the window, her room is in the back and you're going to have to climb up the roof." She tells my brothers slowly. They both nod shortly. Then she turns back around to me. "We're going in through the front!" She announces and I let her pull me with her. I wave shortly at my brothers, who are watching us leave in slight confusion. I feel kind of excited, now I am suddenly the one in the lead, and get into Charlie's car. "Charlie…" I start slowly as she drives away, but she shakes her head. She already knows what I am going to ask her. "I just want to help, you know. I just… I need to find out what happened." She tells me, before I can say anything else. I nod shortly, not wanting to push her. "How are we going to get in?" I ask, changing the subject. I don't want her to start crying again. I mean, she still lost her friend. "Well, I'll be too hysterical to talk, so you'll have to tell Jill's mother that we need some time to say goodbye to her." She explains to me. I frown. I'm about to say something when she interrupts my thinking. "I'm not going to act my grief. If I start thinking about it…" She starts to explain, but immediately tears well up in her eyes. I nod in understanding. She is going to use her grief to help us, and I have respect for that.

Charlie parks her car at the end of the street and while I'm coming up with my act, Charlie starts crying again. By the time we've reached the front door of Jill's house, she's crying too hard to talk, just like she said. I ring the doorbell and wrap my arm around her shoulder to support her. Soon the mother opens up the door, also with a tearstained face. All of this grief around me is making me very sad as well. Losing a friend is always hard, but losing your daughter… That must be so much worse.

"Hello miss, I'm very sorry to show up like this but we, especially Charlie, need some time to say goodbye to Jill." I tell the mother. She frowns slightly, she has never seen me before. Charlie heaves up her head and the mother slightly steps forward to put a hand on her shoulder. "Please, I just need some time with Jill's pictures and things…" Charlie stammers through her tears. The mother nods, letting us in without further question. We thank her, before climbing up the stairs and by the time we have reached the first floor, Charlie's breathing is much steadier. She's wiping her face and getting herself back under control. I smile sympathetically at her, before I let her lead me towards the back of the hallway.

We walk into Jill's bedroom and I shortly get the feeling I'm intruding into something I'm not a part of. This is Jill's personal bedroom and she is dead. I should not be here. I convince myself that I am here to save others and that helps me brush the uneasiness off of me. When I look at the window, I can already see two figures emerging outside. Charlie runs up to the window, opening it. Sam and Dean climb through without much difficulty. They've even brought the whole duffle bag with them. "What did you tell Jill's mom?" Sam asks when he lands on the floor. Dean closes the window silently, following his brother in. "We just said we needed some time alone with Jill's stuff." I answer. Charlie sighs in guilt. "I hate lying to her." She mutters. Dean closes the curtains and Sam grabs a camera out of the duffle bag. "Trust us, it's for the greater good." Dean tells her and then looks at me. "The lights." He tells me shortly. I hurry towards the door and shut off the lights. "What's the plan?" I ask as I walk back, seeing both my brothers with cameras. "Hey, night vision." Sam states, holding the camera up to Dean, who pushes a button to fulfill Sam's request. "What are you guys looking for?" Charlie asks. I huff. "We'll let you know as soon as we find it." I tell her, keeping my eyes on my brothers. What we are looking for exactly, is also a mystery to me. We don't know the case yet, we don't know precisely what this is yet. We don't really know what to look for.

"Do I look like Paris Hilton?" I suddenly hear Dean mutter and chuckle when I see him pose for the camera, as Sam´s filming him. It's on night vision, so everything looks different. Sam huffs and turns around, walking towards the closet and opening it. Dean goes the other way with his EMF meter.

"Why aren't you helping?" Charlie whispers to me. We are both standing back and letting them do their work. I snicker. "Because they're protective douche bags." I tell her. She actually grins at that. "So, you are really their little sister?" She asks me in curiosity. She'd probably assumed that was a lie too, when she found out we weren't who we said we were. I nod shortly, watching Sam intently.

Sam goes over the closet mirror with his camera and starts talking. "So, I don't get it. I mean, the first victim didn't summon Mary and the second victim did. How is she choosing them?" He wonders out loud. Dean slowly shakes his head. "Beats me." He replies shortly. Sam closes the closet door and walks towards the bathroom. "Hey…" I start, while turning to Charlie. "Why did Jill say it in the first place?" Charlie bows her head in guilt. "It was just a joke." She mutters sadly. "Yeah, well somebody's going to say it again, it's just a matter of time." Dean mutters from the other side of the room. I step towards the bathroom, following Sam and his camera. He's skimming it over the doorposts and then moves on to the bathroom mirror. I can see a change in his posture as he's sliding the camera under the mirror. He freezes slightly. "Hey!" He hushes. I rush up to him, helping him carry the mirror towards the bed. "There's a black light in the trunk, right?" He mutters and like it's on cue, Dean closes the curtains and ruffles through the duffle bag. Me and Sam position the mirror on the bed and turn it upside down. Dean throw the black light to Sam and urges me to rip off the brown paper on the back of the mirror. I do so as he turns the black light on and directs it towards the mirror. I squint my eyes, Dean and Charlie lean closer. A blue handprint slowly comes into view. As Sam goes on with the light, letters appear and soon I'm able to read them. "Gary Briman?" I question slowly. Sam glances at Charlie in search for answers. "You know who that is?" He asks. She shakes her head slowly. "No." She answers after having thought it over. Sam and Dean exchange a glance. "Well, let's find out." I suggest optimistically. Dean ruffles my hair, while Sam puts the mirror back in its rightful place.

We part ways after that little investigation. Charlie and I make our way back downstairs. Two came in the house, two should leave the house. Jill's mother meets us in the hall, her eyes empty and dull. "Are you girls okay?" She asks. We both nod at her. "I'm sorry, I know we've never met, but I was in school with Jill. I'm so sorry for your loss." I tell the mother and stick out my hand to her. She smiles and embraces me instead. It's short, but it was friendly and I inhale deeply, trying not to cry for this woman I have never met. I have always been compassionate, but sometimes it is hard for me to not take over someone else's emotions. "Thank you for letting us say goodbye." Charlie thanks the mother and after that we let ourselves out. "What could Gary Briman mean?" Charlie whispers to me as we walk towards the corner of the street where my brothers have parked the impala. "No idea." I answer her shortly and climb in the back seat. She follows me. Sam's already busy researching, typing away on his laptop. Dean starts the car. We drive back towards the park where we just came from. Dean, Charlie and me get out, so we can let Sam search in piece. We sit down on the same bench as before, a little further into the park. Charlie is just explaining to Dean what she knows about bloody Mary and Mary's in this town, when Sam appears with a little piece of paper in his hand. "So, Gary Briman was an eight-year-old boy." He starts his explanation, sitting down next to me, reading off the little note. "So, two years ago he was killed in a hit and run. The car was described as a black Toyota Camry, but nobody got the plates or saw the driver." He explains. I glance at Dean with a frown. Why was that written on the back of Jill's mirror?

"O my God." Charlie suddenly exclaims and my head snaps into her direction. "What?" Sam asks in confusion. "Jill drove that car." Charlie explains in astonishment. Dean and Sam exchange a glance. Then they stand up. "We need to get back to your friend Donna's house." Dean mutters. Charlie follows our examples. "I can get you in there too, but this time through the bathroom window." She tells us and we all agree with that plan. She doesn't need me this time, so I drive towards Donna's house with my brothers. The roof of Donna's house is a whole other story and Dean ends up hauling me onto the roof just in time. I slipped and almost fell. He angrily mutters something, but I ignore him and wait for Charlie to arrive in the bathroom. It takes her a bit longer, but eventually she emerges and lets us in. Sam does the same trick with the mirror as he did with Jill's and soon blue letters appear. "Linda Shoemaker." Sam states. I glance at Dean. That could very well be Donna's mother, which means we are going to have to talk to her. We need to figure this out. "Okay, climb back down and ring the bell, I'll make something up." Charlie tells us. We do exactly as she suggested. I slowly let myself down from the roof and feel Sam's hands on my legs, securing me down. We walk up towards the front door and ring the bell.

"What do we say?" I ask nervously as we wait. Dean shakes his head. "I don't know, Donna did not seem like the believing type, so it will be hard…" He starts, but the door opens halfway through his sentence and he stops talking. "Hi, Donna, we're…" Sam starts, but Donna shakes her head and just opens the door further. "Charlie was babbling nonsense, but come in." She tells us grumpily. I carefully step inside the hallway, along with my brothers. Donna does not make any move to invite us to any other part of the house and I awkwardly lean against the halls of the hallway. "Donna, do you know who Linda Shoemaker is?" Dean starts off by asking her that question as gently as he can. Donna frowns, before her whole posture changes. She's suspicious. "Why are you asking me all this?" She asks, looking at Charlie, who just entered the hallway as well. "We're sorry, but it's important." Sam tries again. Donna clenches her jaws. "Yeah, Linda is my mom, okay! And she overdosed on sleeping pills. It was an accident and that's it." She snaps. I look at Dean meaningfully. Donna sees it and starts to get angry. "I think you should leave." She tells us coldly, eying me specifically. "No, Donna listen…" Dean tries, but Donna aggressively takes a step forward. "Get out of my house!" She cries out, before storming past us up the stairs. Dean sighs as he watches her sprint off. He then glances at Sam and by the look in his eyes, I can see what he's thinking. It does makes sense. Jill killed that little boy with her car and the dad could have killed his wife, that all leads back to why Mary might have attacked those specific people and not the ones who said her name in the mirror.

"Do you really think her dad could've killed her mom?" Charlie asks incredulously, after a little silence. She has also figured it out. I nod at her shortly. Sam also gives her a hesitant nod. "Maybe." He admits. Charlie crosses her arms. "I think I should stick around." She mutters, looking up the stairs. "Alright, just whatever you do, don't…" Dean starts to warn her, but she looks at him sarcastically. "Believe me, I won't say it." She reassures him. I can't help but grin. Anybody who'd do that right now, would be incredibly stupid.

"Be careful." I softly tell her, before I let Sam grab my arm and lead me back outside, to the car. I can feel the sphere in the air changing. It is about time for some more drastic measures. As soon as we're back at the motel, Dean creeps behind the laptop. Sam starts making a research board like dad taught him. He puts all the important pieces and articles of the case up on the wall. Looking at everything together while taking a little distance yourself, can help clear the mind and can help you see things you did not see before. I decide to let them do their parts for this case in peace. I can't help them with that, so I might as well start studying for Geometry.

It is silent for quite a while, until Dean lets out a loud sigh, changing his tactics. He starts typing more frantically on the laptop and the first results are coming out of the printer. Sam and I raise our heads. "What are you doing?" I ask Dean and he answers me without taking his eyes off the laptop screen. "A nationwide search." He tells me. Sam frowns. "Wait, what? You're doing a nationwide search?" He asks, his tone suggesting that's a stupid thing to do. Dean ignores his tone. "Yup. The NCIC, the FBI database… At this point, any Mary in this country who died in front of a mirror, is good enough for me." He explains. I sit up and Sam walks over to his brother, sitting down beside him. "But if she's haunting the town, she should have died in the town." He protests. Dean shakes his head slightly in response. "No, I'm telling ya, there is nothing local, we've checked. Even Skye checked, so unless you got a better idea…" He mutters. Sam sighs, scratching the back of his head. "Well, with the way she's choosing the victims, it seems like there is a pattern." He starts slowly. Me and Dean both raise our heads. "I was thinking the same thing." We say in union. "With Mr. Shoemaker and Jill's hit and run…" I elaborate further. Dean finishes with: "Both had secrets where people die." I continue the conversation. "Right, maybe Mary is going after the people who did wrong in her eyes." I add. "Right, right. I mean there's a lot of folklores about mirrors. That they reveal all your sins, all your secrets. That they're a true reflection of your soul, which is why it's bad luck to break 'em." Sam continues on our train of thought. I put my book down and sit up. Hunting is way more interesting than studying anyways. "So, like I said, if you have a secret where…" I start thinking out loud, once again getting interrupted by Dean. "Yeah, like a real nasty secret where somebody died, Mary sees it and punished you for it." He finishes my sentence. "Whether you're the one who summoned her or not." Sam adds. I stand up. This is beginning to add up. I walk over to the table to physically join my brothers in the conversation. "Well, take a look at that." Dean mutters, eying the printer. A black and white photo has just gotten out of it and I don't even have to look at it closely, to see that it's a horrific sight. I slowly grab it and examine it a little closer. A woman in a white dress is lying, unmistakably dead, in a puddle of blood in front of a giant mirror. Sam is looking with me over my shoulder and soon grabs the second photo coming out of the printer. The second photo has a bloody handprint on the mirror, which, now that I look closer, looks familiar. There are three letters written beneath it in blood: 'TRE'. Sam recognizes the handprint too. "Look at the handprint." He mutters to his brother and Dean turns his eyes back on the screen. "Her name was Mary Worthington… An unsolved murder in Fort Wayne, Indiana." He reads out loud, raising his eyebrows at Sam. "Can you see which detective was on this case?" I question. Dean squints his eyes at the screen. "Yup, good call." He says and writes an address down on a small piece of paper. "Let's go, that's not far from here." He announces, standing up. We're back in the impala in an instant, making our way towards our new lead.

An hour and forty minutes later we are standing in front of an old house. It kind of looks like it could collapse any second. Light, however, is coming from inside. Sam rings the bell, licking his lips. During the drive we just had, we read through the entire case that belonged to those photos. We are up to date and know what to ask for. Dean established that Sam and himself are reporters, looking for the truth and that I am doing a history essay of whatever. It works out very well, because the man who opens the door lets us in without further discussion. We slowly make our way into his living room and Dean does not waste any time. "We wanted to ask you about the Mary Worthington case." He tells the man, who immediately starts talking. He is probably eager to finally speak his mind about what happened. "I was on the job for thirty-five years, detective for most of that time. Now, everybody packs it in with a few loose ends, but the Mary Worthington murder, that one still gets me." He tells us slowly, leaning back on his desk. He sounds quite sad. "What exactly happened?" Dean asks. The detective slightly frowns. "Now, you boys said you were reporters? And that lovely thing right there is writing an essay?" He questions, giving me a friendly wink. I smile back at him, listening to Sam's quick rant as he tries to distract the man from asking any further questions about who we are. He is an old detective after all, he will check if he feels he has the need to. He could make or break this case. Sam decides to just lay the facts upon the detective, to trigger him into telling the story. "We know Mary was nineteen and lived by herself. We also know she won a few local beauty contests and dreamt of getting out of Indiana, being an actress. We know the night of March 29th, someone broke into her apartment and murdered her." He sums it up, expectantly looking at the detective. "Someone scratched her eyes out." I add in a softer voice, my face scrunched up. I hate the way it sounds and I hated the way it looked on the photo's as well. It must be very painful and I really hope she was already dead, when it happened. The detective, who was staring at Sam, softly glances at me and nods. "That's right." He says in a very deep tone. Dean takes a step forward. "See, when we ask you what happened, we want to know what you think happened." He explains more clearly to the man, who bows his head. It stays silent for a few moments, until he starts moving and walks over to the closet, standing in the back of the room. He opens a few drawers and grabs a file filled with documents, putting it on the table. "Technically I'm not supposed to have a copy of this." He informs us, before going through the folder. I move a little closer, together with Sam and Dean. Sam sits down on the edge of the table, while Dean and I lean in and squint our eyes at the files in front of us. The ex-detective stops ruffling through the documents, when he gets to the same picture we printed out a few hours ago. The picture with the bloody handprint on the mirror, with the letters TRE beneath it. The man points at it with a sad look. "You see that there? TRE?" He asks us. "Yeah." Dean nods. "I think Mary was trying to spell out the name of her killer." The detective explains. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up instantly. That is brutal. Her last breaths were used, to try and get justice and she couldn't even finish it. "You know who it was?" Sam asks. The ex-detective slightly shakes his head. "Not for sure… But there was a local man, a surgeon." He explains, grabbing another photo of a man around the age of forty, wearing black sunglasses. "Trevor Sampson. And I think he cut her up good." He finishes. "Why would he do something like that?" I ask, not able to gain full control over my voice. The detective sighs. "Her diary mentioned a man that she was seeing. She called him by his initial, T. Now in the last entry, she was gonna tell T's wife about their affair." He explains. I raise my eyebrows. That sounds like a big motive to me. "Yeah, but how do you know it's this guy Sampson who killed her?" Dean asks, standing up straight and furrowing his eyebrows. "It's hard to say… But the way her eyes were cut out, it was almost professional." The detective implies. Dean leans his head to the side. "But you could never prove it, could you?" I ask the man and he lays his eyes on me. "No. No prints, no witnesses, and he was meticulous." He tells me sadly. I nod slowly, I now understand why he sounds sad half of the time. Dean instinctively puts a hand on my shoulder and this time I do not shake it off. "Is he still alive?" Dean asks, as the detective sits down. "Nope. If you ask me, Mary spend her last living moments trying to dispose this guy's secret, but she never could." He adds in that same sad tone again. "Where is she buried?" Sam finally asks the crucial question. "She wasn't, she was cremated." The detective answers and I can see Dean suppressing a groan. Cremated is never a good answer for hunters, it makes the job ten times harder. If someone is buried, we find the grave and salt and burn the bones. If the person is cremated, we actually have to find the one piece that ties the 'ghost' still to this earth. That is never easy.

"What about the mirror? It's not in some evidence lockup, is it?" Dean asks. He gets another unsatisfying answer. "No, it was returned to Mary's family a long time ago." I sigh. "Do you have the names of her family for us by any chance?" I ask. It's silent for a while, until the man nods and starts shuffling through the documents again. After he gave the names to us, he lets us out. By the door he stops, grabbing my arm softly. "If you could do me a favor, expose that Trevor bastard if you can." He tells me, then lovingly squeezes my arm. "Well, at least you, dear." He mutters. I nod. "Sure, of course." I reassure him and smile slightly, before leaving with my brothers.

As soon as we are back in the car, Sam pulls out his phone. "You call the brother, I'll call the sister." I tell him and he nods in agreement, before we both start calling. Dean starts the car and drives us back towards our motel. As soon as the sister answers, I start explaining to her in the friendliest way possible, what I need from her. She is a very stubborn woman and wants to know precisely why I'm calling. Sadly, in the end, she won't tell me anything at all. I hang up with a frustrated sigh. Hopefully Sam has more luck. "Alright… Ah that's too bad Mr. Worthington. I would have paid a lot of money for that mirror… Okay, well maybe next time… Bye, thanks." Sam hangs up the phone and pushes the antenna back with his teeth. "So?" Dean asks with raised eyebrows. I lean forward as well. "That was Mary's brother. The mirror was in the family for years, until he sold it… One week ago." He adds with a sigh. Dean and I both frown. "To a store called 'State Antiques'. A store in Toledo." He adds and glances at Dean. I look down, my brain working out the theory. Mary might be acting through that mirror, the mirror she died with. That mirror might be her base, her source. "So, wherever the mirror goes, that's where Mary goes?" Dean questions to us, thinking out loud. "Her spirit is definitely acting through it somehow." I mumble in agreement. Dean turns to Sam. "Isn't there an old superstition that says mirrors can capture spirits?" He asks. "Yeah, there is. Uh, when someone would die in a house, people would cover up the mirrors so the ghost wouldn't get trapped." Sam confirms his thoughts. "So, Mary dies in front of a mirror and it draws in her spirit." Dean states with a nod. I frown. "I guess, but how could she move through a hundred different mirrors? Shouldn't her spirit be trapped inside that one mirror only?" I ask, that's something I do know about spirits attaching themselves to stuff. They usually are only able to act through that specific thing. "I don't know, but if the mirror is the source, I'd say we go smash it." Dean suggests. Sam seems to think otherwise. "Yeah, I don't know. Maybe." He mutters after a while. It stays silent, as we're all thinking this through. I mean, if she can travel through all those mirrors, it wouldn't really matter if we smashed the source, she would find another mirror. But then the question is, how do we get rid of her?

Suddenly Sam's phone rings and he lazily picks it up. "Yeah, hello?" He mutters. It only takes a second, before his reaction changes from relaxed to worried and agitated. It tells me something is very wrong. "Charlie?" He questions and then gasps, his eyes growing wide. "Why did she…? Okay never mind, stay put and don't look into any mirror." He then says sternly, before hanging up. "We have to move." He tells Dean, who immediately speeds up the car. I stare at Sam in worry. "What happened, did Charlie say it?" I ask him. He shakes his head. "No, but she didn't say what happened either, only that she saw a girl with black hair and no eyes in every mirror she looked at." He explains shortly. Dean curses softly. "Son of a bitch." I let out a slow breath. We're not far from town, if Charlie doesn't look into any mirrors, she might make it.

As soon as we arrive at Charlie's home, we see the front door is open. "I don't think her parents are home…" I mutter as we rush in. Dean closes the front door. We race upstairs and find Charlie in her room, visibly shaking with fear. She's almost completely buried in a blanket, her arms over her head. She's clearly crying. "Cover up the mirrors, every damn one of them." Dean shouts at Sam and they get moving. They grab sheets out of the closet and move towards the mirrors they can see. I slowly sit down next to a trembling Charlie and try to soothe her, wrapping an arm strongly around her. "It's going to be okay, you're going to be fine." I hush, pointing out a mirror to Dean that he missed. Sam also covers up the computer, anything that can give a reflection is dangerous right now. Charlie has a lot of mirrors in her room, but after a short while, all of them are covered up or moved out of the way. Sam slowly sits down on the other side of Charlie and I put my other hand on her shoulder. "You can look Charlie, it's okay now. She can't get to you this way." I tell her softly. Slowly, she lifts up her head, her face tearstained.

"Now, listen. You are going to stay right here, on this bed, and you are not going to look at any glass or anything else with a reflection, okay?" Sam tells Charlie soothingly. I join the conversation. "As long as you do that, she can't get to you. She cannot hurt you." I add reassuringly. She turns her big, frightened eyes towards me. "I can't keep that up forever." She tells me, her voice trembling. I sigh, glancing at Sam. "I'm going to die, aren't I?" Charlie adds in a small voice. "No. No, not anytime soon." Sam tells her firmly. I feel the bed bending under Dean's weight as he sits down in front of us.
"Now, Charlie, we need to know what happened." He tells her, looking at her expectantly. "We were in the bathroom, Donna said it." She starts to explain, but Dean's eyes tell me that's not what he needs to know. I slowly realize it is indeed not what we need to know. If Donna said it, then Mary moved onto Charlie for a reason. A reason that we indeed need to know about. "No, that's not what I'm talking about." Dean explains and Charlie looks at him with a frown. "Something happened, didn't it? In your life. A secret, where someone got hurt…" He softly explains to her and a new tear slowly trickles down her face. I wrap my arm back around her shoulder. "Can you tell us about it?" I urge her softly. Her lip quivers. "I had this boyfriend…" She starts, looking at Dean. "I loved him, but he kind of scared me too, you know. And one night, at his house, we got into a fight… and I broke up with him. He got upset and said he needed me and he loved me and he said: "Charlie, if you walk out of that door right now, I'm going to kill myself"." My mouth forms into a thin line as I hear her say that, but I do not interrupt her. Charlie glances at me with big, tear filled eyes. "You know what I said? I said: "Go ahead" and I left." Charlie starts to sob after getting that sentence out, and buries her head into my chest. "How could I have said that? How could I leave him like that? I just, I didn't believe him, you know… I should have." She finishes and bows her head back in her arms, sobbing. I can feel her pain and the guilt she carries with her, it makes me sad too. Dean slowly leans towards me, as I try to comfort Charlie the best as I can. "We have to smash that mirror, honey. Otherwise Charlie will never be able to look into a mirror again…" He whispers to me. I nod slowly. "Do you want me to come with?" I whisper back. He slightly leans his head to the side, torn between saying yes and no. "Well, maybe you should stay here, keep an eye on her…" He starts eventually, but Charlie lifts up her head and frantically shakes her head, tears sadly pouring down. "No, I need to be alone…" She starts, her voice rising a bit. I hush her. "Okay, I understand, it's okay." I tell her and slowly let her go, climbing off the bed. "We'll be back soon, okay?" Dean tells her, wrapping an arm around me. Sam also gets up. Charlie nods sadly and curls up into a ball on her bed. I sigh and pat her on the back slowly, before walking out of the room with my brothers, back to the impala. "That was a horrible story." I mutter softly, once we're back on the road and I lean my head against the window shield. "I know. I mean, the boyfriend killing himself, that's not really Charlie's fault." Dean mutters. I raise my head, feeling very strongly that I have to defend the girl. "It is very sad that it happened, but it is in no way Charlie's fault." I tell him firmly. Sam sighs. "You know as well as we do, spirits don't exactly see shades of gray, Skye. Charlie had a secret, someone died, that's good enough for Mary." He tells me. I sink back in my seat. I disagree strongly, but I know he's right. It's enough for Mary. "I guess…" Dean mutters, his eyes back on the road and his jaws clenched.

"You know, I've been thinking. It might not be enough to just smash that mirror." Sam slowly starts and both me and Dean snap our heads towards him. "Why, what do you mean?" Dean asks with a frown. "Well, Mary's hard to pin down, right? She moves around from mirror to mirror, so who's to say she's not just gonna keep hiding in there forever." Sam explains. I raise my eyebrows, I'm not sure where he's going. He might be right, but I'm not sure what he's implying. "So, maybe we should try to pin her down, you know. Summon her to her mirror and then smash it." Sam goes on. "Well how do you know that's gonna work?" I ask him in uncertainty. He shrugs. "I don't, not for sure." He answers me and as I go over his answer in my head, Dean suddenly huffs and looks at his little brother. "Wait… Who is going to summon her?" He asks, his voice rising a bit. Suddenly it becomes very silent in the car. Both me and Dean stare at Sam. "I will. She'll come after me." Sam mutters after a few seconds and Dean and I both have a different reaction to that. My eyes widen, my mouth opens and I just stare at him in shock. Dean just mumbles: "You know what, that's it" and pulls the car off the road, parking it on the side and shutting off the engine. He completely turns in his seat and stares at his brother with just as much shock as me. "This is about Jessica, isn't it?" He then asks in frustration. Sam stays silent, looking at the ground. "You think that's your dirty little secret? You think that ya killed her somehow..? Sam, this has got to stop, man!" Dean cries out and I can see the frustration on his face. I slowly sit up in my seat, glancing at Sam. As I thought, we'd have to talk about it sometime. I guess that sometime is now. Sam's not looking at me or at Dean and I cannot stand the sad, helpless aura that's coming from him. I normally never see him like that. He might be the gentle one of my two brothers, but I rarely see him upset or helpless. I stubbornly open the impala door and get out in the rain. I run around the impala, open the door to the passenger seat and ignore Sam's weak protests as I force myself in his seat, taking place on half of his lap. "Sam, Dean's right. This has to stop." I start softly, now that I can look him in the eye. Sam is still stubbornly glancing around me, his jaws clenched. Dean follows up with what I started instantly. "I mean, the nightmares… Calling her name out in the middle of the night! This is going to kill you!" He adds, wiping a hand across his face tiredly. I slowly wrap an arm around Sam's neck to try and comfort him in whatever way possible, but he is not responding to us.

"Now, listen to me. It wasn't your fault!" Dean says in a strict tone and I see the slight roll of Sam's eyes. That pisses me off. "It was not your fault, Sam!" I snap at him, frustration rising in my veins. I feel powerless when he's acting like this, I hate it. "If you want to blame something, blame the thing that killed her!" Dean tries again, but he's still not getting a reaction. It's time to play dirty. "Hey, why don't you take a swing at me and Dean? I mean, we are the ones who dragged you away from her in the first place." I snap at him. Sam's head instantly turns and his soft gaze focusses on my face. I can feel an arm wrapping itself around my waist. "I don't blame you… or you!" He says, his head swinging back to Dean, who's eyes are still wide with frustration and worry. "Well, you shouldn't blame yourself. Cause there's nothing you could have done." He tells Sam, but Sam clearly disagrees. "I could have warned her!" He protests. Dean's getting angry now. "About what?" He cries out. "You didn't know what was going to happen!" Sam turns his head back to the road in front of him, like he's still disagreeing, but not verbally. It makes me frown, he's hiding something. I open my mouth, but Dean beats me to it. "Besides, it's not a secret. We know all about it, so it's not going to work with Mary anyway." He states. Sam's reaction is not what I had expected. "No, you don't." He replies softly. Dean raises his eyebrows. "I don't what?" He retorts in confusion. "You don't know all about it. I haven't told you everything." Sam repeats slowly. I slowly move a little back on the seat in surprise, while Dean clearly doesn't know what to do for a second. "What are you talking about?" He then asks, not angry anymore. Just more confused. "Well, it wouldn't really be a secret if I told you, would it?" Sam replies with a slight grin. I sigh in frustration. Dean raises his eyebrows in disbelief. He stares at his little brother, then at the road, then at me and then back at Sam again. "No." He simply states in determination. "I don't like it, it's not gonna happen. Forget it!" Sam groans. "Dean, that girl back there is going to die, unless we do something about it. And you know what, who knows how many people are going to die after that!" Sam protests. I shake my head violently, before an idea strikes me. "I could do it." I suggest slowly. That causes uproar of anger and frustration instantly. "No, you can't!" Dean cries out. Sam stares at me angrily. "You don't even have a secret." He points out to me directly. I slightly raise my eyebrows at him, not able to ignore the terrible sad feeling rising inside my stomach. "Yes, I do." I mutter, inhaling deeply. Dean hits the steering wheel in anger, before staring at me in astonishment. He is almost daring me to talk, his eyes squeezed into angry slits. I glance through the window as I start talking. "Mom died in front of my crib. She was killed by that thing, because it wanted to kill me and she rushed in to protect me…" I slowly start, but am not able to finish talking. The whole atmosphere inside the car changes, heavy sadness in the air. "W-What?" Dean stammers, completely thrown off guard, as the words I just said work their way into his brain. Sam's eyes have grown wide with shock. "What?" He also murmurs at me. I shrug, not looking at both of them. Sam takes the lead. "Honey, you know that wasn't your fault, right? Like in no way, not even the slightest?" He starts, trying to get me to look at him. He doesn't really know what else to say. "You were three months old, puppy. You had no influence or choice of any matter." Dean chimes in, his voice soft and heavy with disbelief. "Well, I'm not going to let you do it, Sam. Not with Jess and all." I fiercely tell Sam, who lets out a deep sigh. "Okay, that's it. You're not doing it and Dean can't, so it's going to be me and that's that." Sam points out in a raised voice, ignoring my noises of protest. He then stares at Dean, who is glancing him with a dangerous look in his eyes. His knuckles are turning white from how hard he's holding the steering wheel. "You have got to let me do this." Sam says slowly, his eyes widening slightly as he looks at Dean. Almost pleading with his brother. Dean does not say a word. He motions angrily for me to get back into the backseat, before starting the car back up. I clumsily move from my seat, in between the two seats my brothers are in, before reaching the backseat. As soon as I sit, Dean slams the gas pedal and speeds back onto the road. Nothing is said, we all realize how much this plan sucks.

It doesn't take us long to find the antique store where the mirror we're looking for is supposed to be stored. The door is closed. Sam keeps busy trying to break in by picking the lock, while me and Dean stand guard. It does not take long before Sam gets the door open. My eyes widen, when I step into the dark antique store. There are mirrors everywhere. Literally everywhere. Small ones in the corners and on the walls, big ones scattered around here and there. A few taller ones against the back walls. My mouth slightly falls open as I realize how impossible it is going to be, to find that one mirror. "Oh my god…" I let out slowly, letting my eyes glide through the room. Dean lets out a tired groan. "Well… That's just great." He comments drily, his eyes flashing through the room. Sam grabs his flashlight with a sigh, shining it through the room. I try to avoid looking into any mirror, as I glance through the room. It's almost impossible. I can see my own reflection everywhere I look. Dean rummages in his pockets next to me and pulls out the photo of the mirror we are looking for. He lights it up with his flashlight and we all lean in closer. The mirror in the picture is huge, it has golden decorations in the top frame in the corners. It should not be hard to miss really, if it is here in this store.

"Alright, let's start looking." Dean mutters, putting the picture away again. Sam walks east and Dean walks west. I stay put a second longer, before shrugging and wandering towards the first couple of mirrors in front of me. When I come closer, I realize they are all smaller than the mirror we're looking for. I do not linger and turn left, into another isle of bigger mirrors. I can see Sam moving through a door on my right and I hope to the gods there isn't a second room filled with mirrors.

I search with my brothers in silence for a while. I soon spot a few bigger mirrors in the left corner that spark my interests. They end up not being the mirror I am searching for. I am starting to wonder if the mirror is even here and Dean seems to agree with me. "Maybe they have already sold it?" I can hear him call out from afar, a few moments later. "I don't think so…" Sam calls back, his voice coming from my right somewhere. I move towards Sam's voice. I could tell from his tone of voice, he probably found it, or something like it. I spot him in the back isle and as I walk up to him, I can see he indeed found the mirror from the picture. He's standing right in front of it, checking to see if it's hundred percent the mirror we need. The closer I get to the mirror, the more creeped out I start to feel. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up. It's even bigger than it seemed in the picture, almost as tall as I am. I glance around anxiously, before looking back at it. This is the mirror an innocent girl was murdered in front of. Her spirit is connected to this mirror. The thought of getting to see another spirit frightens me slightly, but I ball my hands into fists and try to shake it off. I am going to have to see a lot more spirits, if I want to do this job.

Dean joins us a few seconds later and stalks towards the mirror. He immediately grabs the collar of my jacket and slightly pulls me away from the mirror, once he's reached us. He grabs the picture out of his pocket and holds it next to the giant mirror, glancing at Sam with raised eyebrows. They both confirm the mirror is the one in the picture. "That's it." Dean mutters. I turn to Sam, my breathing stuck in my throat. "Are you sure about this?" Dean asks Sam, but Sam doesn't give him an answer and just hands him the flashlight. His jaws are clenched. "Sam…" I start hesitantly, but he shakes his head at me with a fierce look of determination in his eyes. Dean lets out a defeated sigh, putting a hand on my shoulder to tell me to let it go.

We watch together, a few steps back, as Sam slowly approaches the mirror. Dean follows him closely. I can tell he's anxious, which makes me anxious. I slowly reach for his arm and grab it for security. Sam inhales deeply, before raising his head. He looks directly into the eyes of his reflection and opens his mouth. "Bloody Mary. Bloody Mary…" He starts slowly. He glances at Dean after saying Mary's name twice and Dean raises his eyebrows at him. The tension is high. Sam grabs the steel crowbar he brought tighter and clutches it in his hands. He turns back to the mirror. "Bloody Mary." He finishes. The hairs on my back stand up as I hear him say her name the third time. A flash of light blinds us for a moment as it runs through the room, reflecting on all the mirrors. I jolt in surprise and yelp, turning around instantly. "What was that?" I whisper anxiously. Dean shrugs, scratching the back of his head. "I'll go check it out, looks like headlights. You stay here with Sammy, Skye. Please be careful." He mutters to both me and Sam. I unwillingly let go of his arm and grab the flashlight he pushes into my side. He gives me a reassuring smile, before protectively stalking away. "Smash anything that moves!" We hear him yell, before he disappears. Me and Sam slowly stare back at the mirror. I raise the flashlight high in the air as a precaution. I am frightened, but I am not going to let Mary take my brother. That is not going to happen and I will smash anything that moves.

Sam and I stare at the mirror in complete silence. Nothing happens. I do hear a king of tingling sound from somewhere and raise my flashlight higher, just to be sure. I do not see anything and neither does Sam. His eyes are flashing to every mirror around him nervously. Very suddenly, Sam's breathing hitches. He raises his crowbar and smashes the mirror behind me with all his force. I jump in shock, letting out a frightened yelp, staring at him. "You saw her?" I stammer. He nods, swiftly glancing at me to check if I'm hurt. He turns his eyes to the other mirror on my left and crashes the crowbar into it, smashing it to pieces. It's starting, Mary is after him. I try to help and smash my flashlight into the mirror right in front of me, ignoring my racing heart. Sam focusses his attention back on the huge mirror. "Come on…" He hisses, slightly shaking his head. "Come into this one!" He challenges, motioning for me to take a step back with his hand. I do, watching him intently.

Sam stares at his own reflection for a short moment. Then he frowns and leans his head to the side slightly. Everything seems to be okay to me, until his eyes grow wide. I frown. It seems like he's seeing something that I don't see. "Sam?" I mutter softly, stepping forward and gently putting a hand on his shoulder. "Sam, do you see her?" I repeat when he doesn't react to me. With a shocked gasp I jump backwards. I see Sam's head rising. He's making strangled noises and seems to be in pain.

I watch blood appear in his eyes, trickling down onto his face and sliding down his cheek. Terrified, I watch as he groans, dropping the crowbar on the ground. His hands are shaking as he grabs his head, yelping in pain. "SAM!" I yell in complete panic. I rush towards him and put both hands on his shoulders. I try to get him to look at me, but he does not seem to notice me at all. I feel a sick fear in my stomach. I look around, searching for Mary somewhere in a mirror. She's not there. Sam flinches and groans, more blood is coming out of his eyes. I realize I have to do something. Now. Mary got to him and I do not know how. I can't see her, I do not know where she is. How can I fight her when I don't know where she is.

I look around in panic and pick up the crowbar from the ground, the one Sam just dropped. Smash anything that moves, Dean said. I haul it into the air, ready to smash. Sam lets out a strangled noise of pain and sadness and I can't stop myself from letting the crowbar smash to the ground, rushing to him. "Sam… Sam, can you hear me? Sam, please…" I try to hush him, pushing against his crouched down frame. He won't budge, his breathing is rapid as he stares at his own reflection in the mirror with a hopeless, strangled look. "God damnit!" I yell out in fright, frantically looking around. I don't know where she is, I don't know what she's doing to him. I can only see Sam's reflection in the mirror, which looks exactly like him. Sam, however, is clearly seeing something completely different and its hurting him. "DEAN!" I scream out, grabbing Sam's face with trembling hands. He's yelping again as blood is gushing out of his eyes. He sinks to the ground and into me, his whole body shaking. Convulsing. I can feel tears of panic pushing their way into my eyes as I try to haul him back to his feet with all my strength. Blood is oozing all over his face and I know I need to do something quick. He will bleed out. His eyes will explode, just like all Mary's other victims. "DEAN!"

When Dean doesn't answer, a sudden realization washes over me. Dean's not here, but I am. I rise to my feet and bend down to grab the crowbar. No one is going to kill my brother on my watch, and certainly not this Mary spirit. No one touches him, he's been through enough. If Mary is doing something to Sam, that means she's acting through the mirror right now. A mirror that I can destroy. I raise the crowbar above my head and let out a strangled scream, before crashing it down into the huge mirror Sam's in front of. It breaks into a million pieces with a loud bang, scattering all around the floor. Onto me and onto Sam.

It's like the thing that was holding onto Sam disappears. He gasps loudly and starts to cough, sucking in air. I let out a shaking breath, he can breathe again. I rush towards him, trying to hold him up as he gets air back into his lungs. I snap my head to the right when I hear footsteps coming our way and soon Dean rushes into my view, a panicked look on his face. He stops instantly when he sees me holding onto his little brother, the crowbar still in my shaking hands. Sam, who's chest is unnaturally heaving up and down, blood all over his face as he gasps and pants. "Jesus…" Dean cries out, rushing towards us. When he sees I am not hurt, he drops down to his knees next to Sam. Sam slowly falls over, but Dean grabs his jacket and hauls him up, grabbing his little brother's face in both his hands. "Hey, Sammy…" He hushes, frantically moving Sam's face to check where he's hurt. "It's S-Sam." I let out a sigh of relief, when I hear Sam answer his brother in hoarse, stammering voice. Dean ignores that comment, wiping his thumbs across Sam's face to clear away some of the blood. "God, you okay?" He whispers in worry, his voice not entirely under control. I wrap an arm around Sam's shoulder to help and keep him steady, my mind still trying to deal with what exactly we just went through. "Uh, yeah." Sam groans, responding to his brother as well as he can in his current state. Dean and I both grab Sam under his arms, hauling him up. "Alright, come on!" Dean hushes, swinging Sam's arm over his own shoulder, so he can support him from the left. I do the same, supporting him from the right. Like that, we start to wobble towards the exit of the antique store, one step at a time.

Sam is still panting and wheezing, squeezing his eyes shut here and there. He's not doing very well and I worriedly move a broken mirror frame out of our way with my foot. That makes noise, but it shouldn't make as much noise as I am hearing.

I freeze. Glass is moving behind us, glass that should not be moving. All the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Dean and Sam both freeze as well. I can hear ragged breathing directly behind me and some more glass being shoved around. Slowly we turn around, as one formation. I scream, I right out scream, when I lay my eyes on the scene now in front of me. Freaking Mary Worthington is hurrying towards us on all fours. She must have crawled out of her mirror, me smashing it sadly not setting her free. She's here and she's alive, in front of me. It is a terrifying sight. Her pitch black hair is all over her face, her skin is as pale as a ghost and she moves in a very unnatural, frightening way. Like her bones are not in the right place. My breathing hitches and I stumble backwards, into Dean. I watch her slowly get up from the ground and starting to stumble towards us in her unnatural way. There is no time to panic anymore, a blinding pain in my head makes me yell out and double over. My eyes, they feel like they are burning. Like they're on fire. I can feel something wet and sticky slide down my cheeks. My throat slowly tightens up and I collapse to the ground, grabbing my neck with both hands, gasping for breath. I faintly feel a shaking arm pulling at my shoulder, Sam is trying to pull me towards him. Through my gasps, I glance sideways. Sam and Dean are also on the ground, groaning in pain. Blood is trickling down their faces. I blindly reach for Sam, I can feel Mary's presence right above me. Another sharp pain in my head makes me cry out and I start to shake heavily. I don't know what she's doing, but what she's doing is hurting like hell.

I can hear Dean shuffling around him like he's reaching for something. I try to focus, but am not able to. The pain in my head is getting overwhelming and I am not sure how long I can bare it. When I hear something to my right, I force myself to look through the blood coming out of my eyes. Dean's in standing position and has gotten a hold of one of the many mirrors around us. He is holding it up to Mary, trying to keep it steady with his shaking hands. Mary is right in front of it and suddenly confronted with her own reflection. Her gaze fixates on her reflection. She looks absolutely shocked. From what I can see out of my burning eyes, is that she doesn't look so frightening anymore. She is starting to look like a young woman. The young woman she was, when she died. Her skin is still pale, but her hair isn't over her face anymore and I can see big blue eyes. I grab Dean's arm to try and help him keep the mirror steady, grinding my teeth in the process. I need to resist the horrible, shooting pain in my head a few seconds longer. I watch as Mary slowly starts to twist, letting out terrifying screams. And as I'm wishing I could cover my ears, Mary collapses to the ground. With a last, terrifying scream she literally shatters into a million pieces of glass.

Silence follows and so does my ability to breathe again. My throat opens back up and I inhale deeply and rapidly. I let myself fall back into Sam, relief washing over me as I try to gain my breath back. Dean throws the mirror he was holding, onto the pile of glass in front of us, shattering it. I inhale deeply as my heart pounds in my chest. We're alive. No one lost their eyes and Mary is no more. That was one hell of a close call.

Sam slowly sits up, shaking his head with a groan. He's also still gasping for breath, but wraps his arms around me to comfort me. "Hey, Sam?" Dean starts hoarsely, from right besides us, panting and clutching his chest. Sam and me look up to him and I notice his face is just as covered in blood as mine probably is. "Yeah?" Sam answers slowly, grabbing my face between both his hands and wiping the blood away with his thumbs. "This has got to be like what? Six hundred years of bad luck?" Dean mutters sarcastically. Sam scoffs at that. I actually grin at his joke. It's over now, I am allowed to grin again.

Dean slowly gets up and hauls Sam to his feet. When they're both standing, they both reach a hand out to me and I grab them, pulling myself up. The three of us stumble back out of the store and with a puzzled expression I look at the two guys unconscious on the sidewalk, outside the store. "Uh, Dean?" I start in confusion, but he waves it away and opens up the impala. "Are they okay?" I question in slight concern, slowly crawling into the backseat of the car. "They'll be fine." Dean reassures me. We both watch as Sam groans and moans, getting himself in the passenger seat of the car. Dean gets in, starts the car and soon we are back on the road. On our way to the motel where we arrive only fifteen minutes later.

It's a good thing it's two a.m. and no one can see us. We all look horrific. Sam collapses on one of the beds as soon as we have entered our room. I make my way towards the bathroom, in desperate need of a shower. I enjoy the hot water rinsing me down. Washing away all of my own blood, I can see it spill into the water, going down the drain. When I have made sure there is no spec of blood left on me, I wrap myself up in my sweatpants and sleeping shirt. Both Sam and Dean are on the beds, already fast asleep, when I make my way out of the bathroom. I smile fondly, before making myself comfortable on the couch. Everyone is exhausted and I don't really care where I sleep. I feel no need to share a space with one of them now that we're all hurt, emotionally drained and exhausted. Soon I fall asleep on the couch.

After four hours, I fly upwards. Eyes wide open. I'm breathing rapidly, close to hyperventilation. My eyes hurt. I'm caught mid scream. Out of the corner of my eye, I see two dark shadows moving, but I don't know and don't care what they are. I am terrified out of my mind, shaking and trembling all over. I curl up into a ball and try to lie as still as I can, I don't dare to move. There was fire everywhere and it felt so real I can still feel the heat of the flames on my skin. A hundred, horrifying looking women, were crawling towards me in a way that seemed like every bone in their body was broken. They were not breathing and their eyes were bright red, like the devil himself. They were coming to get me and I couldn't move one inch. Deep down, I know I had a nightmare. I can feel the soft material of the couch touching my skin, rather than red hot fire. My brain, however, is still convinced it's real.

"Skye?" I hear Dean's rough voice and I soon I feel two strong hands on my back. "Honey, are you okay?" That's Sam's voice, filled with worry. I slowly open my eyes, but that's all I can do. I ain't moving a muscle. I feel their hands on me and slowly they turn me around on the couch. I'm looking into two very concerned faces. I continue to shake, staring up at them with wide eyes. "Jeez. honey…" Sam exclaims as he sits down next to my legs, grabbing my hand and squeezing it reassuringly. "I'll be fine…" I dare to whisper shortly. Dean lets out a deep sigh, rubbing a tired hand across his face. "You've been getting more nightmares, right?" He questions in concern. I nod. He's right, I have been getting more nightmares. After every hunt, after every time we encounter a new monster, my mind tortures me at night. It's starting to get worse. "Don't worry about it, puppy. It's not real. Try to go back to sleep." Dean hushes me, bending over to give me a kiss on my forehead. I nod slowly, forcing myself to move and turn back around on the couch, pulling my hand out of Sam's grasp as I do. Sam pats me on my leg lovingly, before he stands up. Both he and Dean return to their beds. I try to steady my breathing and get some sleep, but the rest of the night I hardly sleep at all.

The next morning I wake up and realize I feel bad. Not okay. My body is aching and I can't get over the fear of that horrible nightmare. I am completely exhausted. I decide to try and ignore it, getting up from the couch. I let out a groan, as my muscles ache. I stretch, glancing sideways. I am met with two empty beds. I can hear the shower and I hear water running in the kitchen, telling me exactly where my brothers are. I change into jeans and a sweater, before going to the kitchen, finding out which one of my two brothers is in there. It turns out to be Dean. He's sitting at the table with a sandwich in front of him, rubbing his temples with closed eyes. "Hey." I shortly announce my arrival and he looks up with a smile. "Hey, how are you doing?" He asks me, his eyebrows raised in concern. "Fine…" I start, but the look he gives me makes me sigh. "Fine, Dean. Don't want to talk about it." I repeat. Dean decides, for once, to listen to what I just said and simply nods at me. I silently thank him for that, absolutely not in the mood to talk. I don't feel very hungry, so I just wait for Sam to get out of the shower and after I dodged his "How are you?" and "You okay?" I start packing up. It's time to move on. We're probably going to see Charlie for a short time, before we leave, but we are leaving.

An hour later, we're back in the impala, checked out of the motel and on our way to the park. Sam called Charlie and she wants to hear the story, having had a horrible night without any sleep. She's sitting on the bench where we met her two days ago and smiles at us, when we walk towards her.

I sit down next to her and she wants to know all about last night. So we tell her in detail what happened and what we went through. She seems very impressed with us and keeps thanking Sam for taking over the curse.

After all that, when she's absolutely reassured not to be afraid of mirrors anymore, we give her a ride back home. Dean parks the car across from Charlie's home and turns to her. "So, this is really over." She exhales in relief. Dean nods with a smile. "Yeah, it's over." He tells her and I grab her hand, squeezing it slightly. "Thank you." She tells us again, before squeezing my hand back. Then she gets out of the car and starts walking towards her house. "Charlie!" Sam suddenly calls after her and she turns back around with a puzzled look. "You're boyfriend's death…" Sam starts slowly and swallows. "You really should try to forgive yourself. No matter what you did, you probably couldn't have stopped him." He tells her. I see her tear up slightly, as she listens to his words. "Sometimes bad things just happen." Sam adds. She smiles slightly at him, nodding, before walking away.

I beam at my brother and I see Dean's look of approval as well. "That's good advice." He tells him and Sam looks at him, slightly smiling. If you ask me, Dean looks proud, very proud. And so am I, I'm proud he can see that now, after so much misery. It was slowly killing me, that he believed Jessica's death was somehow his fault. It is now time for him to slowly work through that and realize that it was not.

We drive away and soon we're on the highway, rock music blasting through the car. I slightly hum with it, relaxing into the cushions. "Hey, Sam?" Dean mutters after a while and turns the music down a few notches. I sit up slightly and scoot forward, while Sam turns his head to his brother with a questioning look. "Now that this is all over, I want you to tell me what that secret was." Dean tells him, looking sideway. I also look expectantly at Sam, I had been wondering what it was too. The thing he refused to tell us. Sam, however, slightly grins and shakes his head. "Look…" He starts, glancing at Dean fondly. "You're my brother and I'd die for you, but there are some things I need to keep to myself." He says, still with a slight smile on his face. He ends that conversation straight away by moving his head back and looking out of the window at the landscapes racing by us. Dean and I raise our eyebrows simultaneously, staring at him. It seems like Dean wants to say something but decides not to. With a fond shake of his head, his eyes return to the road. I smile to myself and also decide to keep my mouth shut. This is a very nice brotherly moment and I have certainly missed those. So, I'll let it be a lovely brotherly moment and glance out of the window. Off we go to our next adventure.