Dear Readers,

It's me here. I have been so busy it wasn't even funny, but I finally got this chapter uploaded. I'm so glad to start working on it again.

Again, I'm sorry to make you wait, but updates should be closer together from now on (hopefully), because I honestly don't have anything planned for summer.

Thanks for all the support I've been getting. You guys are awesome.

please feel free to read and review.

Later, guys :)

"Alright, say bloody Mary is haunting this town," Dean said to his brother as they stood in front of the town's local library. "There's gonna be some sort of proof—like a local woman who died nasty."

"Yeah but a legend this widespread it's hard," Sam argued as they walked into the main building. "I mean, there's like 50 versions of who she actually is. One story says she's a witch, another says she's a mutilated bride," he said, listing the possibilities. "There's a lot more too."

"Okay then, from what we know, there's gotta be a connection," Dean mused. "So what is it?"

"Well, it's always a woman named Mary, and she always dies right in front of a mirror," Sam told him. "…You know the drill."

Dean groaned, "This should be annoying."

"Well, not really. It won't be so bad, as long as we…" He trailed off as he saw the "out of order" sign on the computer. "I take it back. This is gonna be really annoying."

His brother rolled his eyes. "And to think, redhead already has all the answers."

"Are we really gonna bring that up? " Sam asked, "Or awe going to start looking? The answer won't find itself."

"Bitch," Dean grouched.

"Jerk."

I sat on a motel bed scrolling through the local news with one hand and clutched a pillow to my chest with the other, supporting my ribs. Shoemaker sure made headlines, but there was nothing of interest. There was no piece of information I could use, and even if I found something, I couldn't do anything about it. I groaned in frustration.

Why did it have to be this case? Why this case? This case, as far as I knew, was in no way significant. So why in the world would it be a fixed point?

…I wanted to keep them safe, though I knew it was a stupid notion. Winchesters and trouble were two sides of the same coin.

But alas, I'm stuck here on the sidelines in a motel that smelled like mildew. I knew I shouldn't complain, after all, I've been in worse places.

Back home, there was this creepy inn called "The Blue Inn", which was located on the bad side of town. After I left my family, I crashed there for four days. At that point in time, I thought I had nowhere to go and they were the only motel or Inn that would take me until I could track down my cousin Jackson.

Jackson took me in, of course.

At this point, I realized I was just rereading the same sentence over and over. I put my phone away and stared at the ceiling. It was a green ceiling.

It was dark out as Charlie drove.

"They were some kind of Detectives or something," she told her friend.

Her friend laughed, "What the ones with the escaped mental patient?"

"Jill…"

"What you don't think so?"

Charlie shrugged. "Yeah, okay, I admit she had some screws loose… I mean alternate universe… seriously? The woman's a nutcase." she shook her head before continuing. "Still, do you think something actually happened to Donna's dad?"

"Maybe Lily was right," her friend taunted. "Maybe Bloody Mary got him."

She rolled her eyes and bit her lip nervously. "Ha ha, very funny."

"I'm sorry was that fear in your voice?" her friend asked, her tone even more taunting.

"No," she denied.

There was a pause and then: "Charlie, I'm walking to the bathroom mirror."

"Jill quit it."

Charlie couldn't help that bit of fear that shot through her. Donna's dad's death was not normal, and it had her totally out of sorts. The strange people she found looking over the bathroom that he had died in did not help either. There was something about them that said the situation was somehow serious. She didn't want to rule anything out, even though it defied all logic.

"Oh no, I can't help myself. I'm gonna say it." Charlie could hear the smirk in her voice. This was not funny.

"Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary… Bloody Mary."

There was silence and then a scream, and Charlie jumped a foot in my seat which caused me to swerve. "Jill? Jill?!"

She heard laughing, "Oh my god you're as crazy as she is. I'll call you tomorrow."

She hung up, and Charlie swore loudly. She felt a sinking feeling in her stomach.

It was justified. Back in Jill's house, true to the legend, Bloody Mary took her eyes, and the girl died screaming, in a pool of crimson.

The Winchesters returned to the motel around 9:45, and we all ate take out that the boys had gotten from a Chinese Deli. And after scarfing down all his food in a frankly alarming rate, Dean decided to pass out on the couch.

We didn't argue. We continued to eat in silence, before Sam piped up, "How are your ribs?"

I shrugged, "they're okay. They still don't feel too great, but they're healing."

"…I'm sorry," he told me.

"Don't be," I replied. "I'd be dead if not for you. I was stupid for just flying by the seat of my pants and running after him. You saved me."

"But I-"

I cut him off, "You can heal from broken bones… death on the other hand? The ribs are just another sign that I survived."

I returned to my now cold Chow Mein, and the silence resumed until I finished and headed to bed… or, Couch, as it were. The room only had to beds, and I'm 5'6, so I got the short end of the stick.

I couldn't help but snigger at that thought. Maybe those weren't the best words to use…

'My god, I am hilarious,' I thought as I settled down on the couch, and drifted off.

I woke up the next morning, and the first thing I saw was Dean trying to wake his brother, who was whimpering in his sleep. Damn, he really is like a puppy in the first couple of seasons.

"Sam," Dean said loudly, shaking him slightly.

Sam groaned and opened his eyes. To be honest, he really looked like crap. "Why'd you let me fall asleep?"

"'Cause I'm an awesome brother. So what did you dream about?" Dean asked though he knew Sam wouldn't give him an honest answer.

"Lollipops and candy canes," he replied sarcastically. He looked away.

"Yeah, sure."

I yawned, stretched, and said, "Hey assholes, I'm awake. Next time we stay in a motel, you're gonna be the one sleeping on the couch. My ribs are hella sore, and the couch was hard as a damn rock."

Dean snorted. "Damn, you're cranky."

I glared tiredly at him.

"Morning, by the way," I shrugged.

There was a half-assed chorus of, "Morning".

"So what've you got today my dear Sherlock and Watson?" I asked.

"Did you just refer to us as Sherlock and Watson?" Sam asked, an eyebrow raised.

"Well, if the shoe fits." I looked at him straight in the eye. "Don't even try to convince me that's not how it is. You are like the Sherlock and John of the hunting world."

"Then who's Sherlock, and who's Watson?" Dean asked.

I smirked. "Well, isn't it obvious?" I pointed at Sam, "He's Sherlock." Next, I pointed at him, "And you're Watson."

"Is that a compliment or an insult?" Dean asked.

"A compliment, mostly. Sherlock and John are the shit. There are some similarities. Sam's the one who's book smart, and great at deductive reasoning—hell he might even have a mind palace, who knows—and you are street smart, you're a fighter, and a leader (I guess Sam is too, though). You may think lesser of yourself for your lack of formal education, but in fact, you're pretty damn smart as well. I mean you've saved so many lives so far," I stared at the ceiling. "And from what I know of, you're damn good at engineering..." I trailed off.

"So, anyway, did you find anything or not?" I asked.

"Oh besides a whole new level of frustration?" He asked. I saw Sam straighten up in my peripheral vision. "I got squat. Looked into everything. Some girls by the name of Catherine and Laura committed suicide in front of a mirror, but no Mary.

Sam slumped back in the bed. "Maybe we just haven't found it yet?"

"I've also been searching for strange deaths in the area, you know...eyeball bleeding, that sort of thing. There's nothing. Whatever's happening here, maybe it just ain't Mary," he mused.

I just shook my head as Sam's phone began to ring. "Hello?"

Then suddenly we were at the park (I still have no idea why they took me along) with Charlie, sitting on a park bench.

She was sobbing, "They found her on the bathroom floor. And her e-eyes? They were gone."

Sam rubbed her back soothingly. "I'm sorry."

"And she said it, you know," she cried. "I heard her say it. But it couldn't be because of that. I'm insane, right?"

I shook my head, "Are you kidding me? They've eaten crazier things for breakfast."

She put her head in her hands and said with a pained voice, "Oh God, that makes me feel so much worse."

I gulped and looked and Sam. 'Not good?' I mouthed to him.

He made a face that said, "You could've said it differently". He sighed and said to Charlie, "Look. We think something's happening here. Something that can't be explained."

"And we're gonna stop it," Dean promised her, "But we're gonna need some help."

The next thing I know, I'm stuck at the motel again. Damn… I hated that I had to stay on the back bench while they went out and played Ghostbusters. Stupid ribs!

I looked around in boredom. Most of the stuff they took was from the trunk, so nothing seemed to be missing. There was something that was beginning to bug me. Why did the Winchesters let me stay with them?

They could have easily dropped me off at the nearest bus station and got me out of their lives. But they decided to let me tag along. Why?

I would've thought they'd just drop me off in some safe house, and then they'd be on their way. Something else at least.

So why exactly am I sharing a motel with them right now? There were a lot of things that weren't making sense lately, besides the obvious.

I've skimmed the surface of the internet looking for an explanation for the friggin flash bomb that happened, but I didn't find much of relevance. I wondered if I'd find something if I looked deeper. Normal search engines only pick up .03% of web content.

Nah, if there was a website for hunters it'd be anonymous… so it's probably an onion site. The only problem was I didn't have the proper app on my phone for that, and the app store doesn't exist in 2005. Hell, they don't even have iPhones yet!

I'll have to talk to Sam about installing the software on his computer. I knew some good VPNs, and Proxys, as well as other basics. I was also pretty sure they had Tor in 2005… probably. I was pretty sure. Yeah, they did.

I may not know a whole lot about the components of a computer, but I knew my way around the internet. The internet is full of untapped resources… resources that could just be damn useful. As they say, connections are the difference between life and death.

I noticed an object on the table, it was Sam's laptop. I decided to do him a favor, so I opened it up and got to work.

It was password protected, so I typed in some random crap until I got it right, and I laughed. Hard. His password was "Dingoatemybaby".

I didn't plan on hurting any angels unless I had to. I had a feeling that while it might have just been a flash bomb, it was more likely something to do with the supernatural. My money is on Cas, but I thought I wouldn't get to see him again for several years. Castiel isn't in the show until season 4. I like to think he's watching over me because I am so used to seeing him in the show that it felt like we were incomplete without him. I mean my lock screen is a picture of Castiel holding Dean close as they lay together in the grass.

When I looked into it, as I surfed the internet, researching what happened, it did point towards angels when I typed the signs into google. another explanation was they threw a flash bomb into the water or they used something to make the ghost let go. Or did I just slip out of its grasp?