1.05
Sam's having a nightmare. Again.
"Is he okay?" I ask Dean as I take off my seatbelt. I pick up the newspaper. Poor guy.
"He's fine," says Dean.
"Are you lying?"
Dean frowns. "Sam, wake up!"
Sam jumps, sits up and looks around. "I take it I was having a nightmare."
"Yeah, another one," says Dean.
"Hey, at least I got some sleep."
"I don't think nightmares count for REM sleep," I say.
"Sure they do," says Sam.
"You know, sooner or later we're gonna have to talk about this," says Dean.
"Are we here?"
"Yup. Welcome to Toledo, Ohio."
Sam takes the newspaper out of my hands. "Hey!"
"What do we think really happened to this guy?"
"That's what we're gonna find out," says Dean. "Let's go."
We get out of the car. Dean slaps a cap on my head.
"What's this for?" I ask.
"Don't look up," he says, adjusting the cap.
We go down to the morgue.
The guy at the desk says hey.
"Hey," says Dean.
I try and hide behind Sam and Dean. It's easy since they're gigantic and I'm still waiting on the growth spurt my Dad's promised me.
"Can I help you?" asks the morgue guy.
"Yeah. We're the, uh...med students."
"Sorry?"
"Oh, Doctor—Figlavitch," ooh, he did not get that right, "didn't tell you? We talked to 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."
"Well, I'm sorry, he's at lunch."
"Oh well he said, uh- oh, well, you know, it doesn't matter. You don't mind just showing us the body, do you?"
"Sorry, I can't. Doc will be back in an hour. You can wait for him if you want."
"An hour? Ooh. We gotta be heading back to Columbus by then."
Dean looks at Sam and me.
"Yeah," says Sam. I figure it's better to not say anything.
"Uh, look, man," says Dean, "this paper's like half our grade, so if you don't mind helping us out-"
"Uh, look, man...no," says morgue guy.
Dean laughs awkwardly and whispers, "I'm gonna hit him in his face I swear."
Sam whacks Dean. He steps in front and opens his wallet. I don't see how much cash Sam hands him but clearly it's enough.
"Follow me," says morgue guy. He gets up and leaves.
Sam and I go to follow but Dean grabs Sam. "Dude, I earned that money."
"You won it in a poker game," says Sam.
"Yeah."
"You'll survive," I say. Dean whacks my cap making it fall down my forehead. We go into the actual morgue.
"Now the newspaper said his daughter found him," says Sam. "She said his eyes were bleeding."
Morgue guy pulls the sheet back off Mr Shoemaker. Ooh. It's gross.
"More than that," says morgue guy, "They practically liquefied."
"Any sign of a struggle?" asks Dean. "Maybe somebody did it to him?"
"Nope. Besides the daughter, he was all alone."
"What's the official cause of death?" asks Sam.
"Ah, Doc's not sure. He's thinking massive stroke, maybe an aneurysm? Something burst up in there, that's for sure."
"What do you mean?"
"Intense cerebral bleeding. This guy had more blood in his skull than anyone I've ever seen."
"The eyes mash, what would cause something like that?"
"Capillaries can burst. See a lot of bloodshot eyes with stroke victims."
"But his eyes look like they exploded," I say.
Sam elbows me as if my one comment is what will give me away as not a university student, not my height, or my fact of being 12.
"You every see anything like that before?" asks Dean.
"That's a first for me, but hey, I'm not the Doctor.
"Hey, think we could take a look at that police report? You know for, uh...our paper."
"I'm not really supposed to show you that…"
Sam huffs and pulls out his wallet.
We're walking down the stairs after checking out the report. I take off the cap.
"Might not be one of ours," says Sam. "Might just be some freak medical thing."
"How many times in Dad's long and varied career has it actually been a freak medical thing and not some sign of an awful supernatural death?"
"Uh, almost never."
"Exactly," says Dean.
"All right, let's go talk to the daughter."
The Shoemaker house is full for the wake. He must've been a pretty popular guy. We look severely out of place in our jeans and old jackets.
"Feel like we're underdressed," says Dean.
We walk through the house and out the back. Sam asks someone about the daughter and we get pointed to a group of girls. We walk over to them.
"You must be Donna, right?" asks Sam.
"Yeah," she says.
"Hi, uh-we're really sorry."
"Thank you."
"I'm Sam, this is Dean, and my sister, Jane. We worked with your dad."
"You did?"
"Yeah," says Dean. "This whole thing. I mean, a stroke."
"I don't think she really wants to talk about this right now," says one of Donna's friends.
"It's okay. I'm okay."
"Were there any symptoms?" asks Dean. "Dizziness? Migraines?"
"No."
A girl around my age turns around, "That's because it wasn't a stroke."
"Lily, don't say that," says Donna.
"What?" asks Sam.
"I'm sorry, she's just upset."
"No, it happened because of me," says Lily.
"Sweetie, it didn't."
"Lily," says Sam and he crouches down to be eye level with her. "Why would you say something like that?"
"Right before he died, I said it," says Lily.
"You said what?"
"Bloody Mary, three times in the bathroom mirror."
No one says anything for a moment.
"She took his eyes, that's what she does," says Lily.
"That's not why Dad died," says Donna. "This isn't your fault."
"I think your sister's right, Lily," says Dean. "There's no way it could have been Bloody Mary. Your dad didn't say it, did he?"
"No, I don't think so," says Lily.
We make our way back into the house, Mr Shoemaker apparently died in a bathroom. So, fun for us.
"I thought Bloody Mary was just a freaky sleepover game?" I say as we go up to the bathroom.
Sam pushes the bathroom door open, there's dried blood on the floor. "I thought it was just a legend," he says. "Dad ever find any evidence that it was a real thing?"
"Not that I know of," says Dean.
Sam kneels down and touches the blood. Gross. I check the window.
"I mean, everywhere else all over the country, kids will play Bloody Mary, and as far as we know, nobody dies from it," says Sam.
"Yeah, well, maybe everywhere it's just a story, but here it's actually happening," says Dean.
There's no sign the windows been opened in years. There's a lot dust and grime.
"The place where the legend began?" says Sam.
Dean checks the medicine cabinet opening its mirrored door.
"But according to the legend, the person who says B-" Sam's stands, the mirror facing him and closes it. I laugh at him. "The person who says you know what gets it. But here-"
"Shoemaker gets it instead, yeah," says Dean.
"Right."
"Never heard anything like that before. Still, the guy did die right in front of the mirror, and the daughter's right. The way the legend goes, you know who scratches your eyes out."
"It's some sort of summoning?" I offer.
"It's worth checking in to," says Sam.
We go to leave the bathroom but one of Donna's friends is there.
"What are you doing up here?" she asks.
"We-we, had to go to the bathroom," says Dean.
I roll my eyes. Smooth.
"Who are you?" she asks.
"Like we said downstairs, we worked with Donna's dad."
"He was a day trader or something. He worked by himself."
"No, I know, I meant-"
"And all those weird questions downstairs, what was that? So you tell me what's going on, or I start screaming."
"All right, all right," says Sam. "We think something happened to Donna's dad."
"Yeah, a stroke."
"That's not a sign of a typical stroke," Sam says, practically dragging me out of the way to show the bloody floor to the girl. "We think it might be something else."
"Like what?"
"Honestly? We don't know yet. But we don't want it to happen to anyone else. That's the truth."
"So, if you're gonna scream, go right ahead," says Dean.
"Who are you, cops?"
Sam looks at me and then over his shoulder at Dean.
"Something like that," says Dean.
"I'll tell you what. Here," Sam writes out his cell on a piece of paper and hands it to her. "If you think of anything, you or your friends notice anything strange, out of the ordinary...just give us a call."
We leave. Quickly.
We find our way to the library and it's old and dark and clearly does not get a lot of use.
"All right, say Bloody Mary really is haunting this town," says Dean. "There's gonna be some sort of proof—Like a local woman who died nasty."
"Yeah but a legend this widespread it's hard. 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, there's a lot more."
"Because that really narrows it down," I say.
"All right so what are we supposed to be looking for?" says Dean.
"Every version's got a few things in common. It's always a woman named Mary, and she always dies right in front of a mirror. So we've gotta search local newspapers—public records as far back as they go. See if we can find a Mary who fits the bill."
"Well that sounds annoying."
"No it won't be so bad, as long as we..." Sam pauses. All of the computers say 'out of order'. A well-loved library for sure. Sam laughs. "I take it back. This will be very annoying."
Dean and I make Sam go to the cards to locate any books or resources that might be of help. It takes hours of scouring and then Dean sweet talking the librarian to let us make copies of the old newspapers. We check into another charming hotel and start researching.
"Who knew there were so many Mary's who were victims of violent crimes. But none that have died," I say as I give up on newspaper number 12.
"Popular name," says Dean. "And you know, men are awful."
I frown. "They weren't all at the hands of men. And besides, you're a man."
"I'm your brother, I don't count. All the other men you're not related to: awful. Terrible. Stay away."
"Uh huh," I say and unfold the next newspaper copies.
Sam's twitching and stuff in his sleep again.
"Do we wake him?" I ask.
"He needs to sleep," says Dean.
"But Dean..."
"Jane, he gets few hours a night if he's lucky. He needs to sleep, even if it's…that," Dean says nodding towards the twitching Sam.
"If you say so…" I try and ignore him but it's hard. It gets worse until the point he wakes up with a start.
"Why'd you let me fall asleep?" asks Sam.
"Cause I'm an awesome brother," says Dean. "So what did you dream about?"
"Lollipops and candy canes," says Sam.
"Yeah, sure," says Dean.
"Sam…" I start.
"Did you find anything?" Sam asks.
"Oh besides a whole new level of frustration?" says Dean and Sam sits up.
"I found that women named Mary have died in all sorts of horrible ways in neighbouring places but nothing here, it just mad the news."
"We've looked at everything," says Dean. "A few local women, a Laura and a Catherine committed suicide in front of a mirror, and a giant mirror fell on a guy named Dave, but uh, no Mary."
Sam falls back onto his 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," says Dean. "There's nothing. Whatever's happening here, maybe it just ain't Mary."
Sam's phone rings, "Hello?" he looks worried. When he hangs up he says we have to go. It's Donna's friend, Charlie. Her friend Jill is dead.
We meet Charlie is a park. She's very upset. Jill was joking, and said bloody Mary in the mirror...and now she's dead. So creepy.
"And they found her on the bathroom floor. And her—her eyes. They were gone," Charlie is saying.
"I'm sorry."
"And she said it," Charlie says. "I heard her say it. But it couldn't be because of that. I'm insane, right?"
"No, you're not insane."
"Oh God, that makes me feel so much worse."
"Look," says Sam. "We think something's happening here. Something that can't be explained"
"And we're gonna stop it but we could use your help."
"How is this okay?" I ask Sam and Dean as we wait downstairs by Jill's window. Outside. In her garden.
Dean shrugs. "It's fine."
Charlie opens the window. Sam climbs up first and in to the window. Sam helps me through and I lean out. Dean tosses me a duffel bag and I toss it to Sam who puts in on the bed and starts getting everything out.
"What did you tell Jill's mom?" asks Sam.
"Just that I needed some time alone with Jill's pictures and things."
Dean climbs in and closes the curtains.
"I hate lying to her," says Charlie.
"Trust us," says Dean. "This is for the greater good."
"The greater good includes working with a ten-year-old?"
"I'm twelve," I say and pull out the digital camera and get it ready. The battery's dead and I change it.
"So much better," says Charlie.
"It's a family business," says Dean. "Hit the lights."
Charlie goes to turn them off. "What are you guys looking for?"
"We'll let you know as soon as we find it," says Dean and Charlie turns off the lights. "Hey, night vision," he says and turns it on. "Perfect. Do I look like Paris Hilton?"
Sam scoffs and takes the camera off me and goes looking around the room. "So I don't get it. I mean...the first victim didn't summon Mary, and the second victim did. How's she choosing them?"
"Beats me."
"Why did Jill say it anyway?" I ask Charlie.
"It's just a joke," she says.
"Yeah well somebody's gonna say it again," says Dean, "it's just a matter of time."
Sam goes into the bathroom and calls out, "Hey, there's a black light in the trunk, right?"
Dean smiles at me. "Off you go, Munch."
"Why me?" I ask.
"You're small and inconspicuous," he tosses me the keys. "Chop-chop."
I climb back out the window, down to the car, I dig around the trunk and find the blacklight and climb back up. The windows shut. I knock. Dean opens the curtains and helps me in.
"Record time!" he says.
"What do I win?"
"The pride of a job well done."
I scoff.
Sam's pulled the mirror out and it's on the bed upside down. Dean closes the window and curtains behind me, and I toss Sam the black light. Sam peels off the paper backing and he shines the light. There's a bright handprint and the name: GARY BRYMAN.
"Gary Bryman?" Charlie says.
"You know who that is?" asks Sam.
"No."
"I read about him," I say. Everyone turns to look at me. "In the newspaper stuff we were checking."
We go back to the hotel to get the copy. Charlie's upset so Dean takes her down the street to sit outside. I find the copy.
"Here," I say reading the article, "Gary Bryman, eight years old, hit and run," I hand Sam the copy. Sam reads it as we walk back down to meet Dean and Charlie.
"Gary Bryman was an 8-year-old boy killed in a hit and run two years ago," I say.
Charlie doesn't react.
"The car was described as a black Toyota Camry," adds Sam. "But nobody got the plates or saw the driver."
"Oh my God," says Charlie.
"What?"
"Jill drove that car."
"We need to get back to your friend Donna's house," says Dean.
We go back to the Shoemaker house with Charlie and the bathroom where Mr Shoemaker died. We do the same as at Jill's house and it's the same handprint but different name.
"Linda Shoemaker," Sam reads.
"Is that their mom?" I ask.
We go downstairs to talk to Donna.
"Why are you asking me this?" she demands.
"Look, we're sorry, but it's important," says Sam.
"Yeah. Linda's my mom okay?" says Donna. "She overdosed on sleeping pills, it was an accident, and that's it. I think you should leave."
"Now Donna," says Dean, "just listen."
"Get out of my house!" Donna yells and runs upstairs.
"Oh my God," says Charlie. "Do you really think her dad could've killed her mom?"
"Maybe," says Sam.
"I think I should stick around."
"All right," says Dean. "Whatever you do, don't—"
"Believe me, I won't say it."
We find a working database computer and Dean's searching on it. I remember I have a math booklet due but say nothing. Pythagoras can wait.
"Wait, wait, wait, you're doing a nationwide search?" asks Sam.
I look over.
"Yep. The NCIC, the FBI database—at this point any Mary who died in front of a mirror is good enough for me."
"But if she's haunting the town, she should have died in the town."
"But there is nothing local. We checked every possible source," I say.
"Unless you have a better idea-" says Dean.
"The way Mary's choosing her victims, it seems like there's a pattern," says Sam.
"I know, I was thinking the same thing."
"With Mr Shoemaker and Jill's hit and run."
"Both had secrets where people died."
"Right. I mean there's a lot of folklore about mirrors-that they reveal all your lies, all your secrets, that they're a true reflection of your soul, which is why it's bad luck to break them."
"So Mary sees people's secrets?" I ask.
"Worse than that," says Dean. "If you've got a really nasty one where someone died, then Mary sees it, and punishes you for it."
"Whether you're the one that summoned her or not," says Sam.
"So she's just summoned to you? If you're around the person that said it? And near a mirror?" I ask.
"Seems like it."
"Take a look at this," he prints a picture and I pull it out. It's a woman lying by a mirror in a pool of blood. He prints another picture. There's a handprint and TRE."
"Looks like the Same handprint," Sam says looking over my shoulder.
"Her name was Mary Worthington—an unsolved murder in Fort Wayne, Indiana," says Dean.
Sam and Dean drop me at the motel. Joy. I deadbolt the door and flop on the bed. Eventually I decide to start my math work, but not before turning on the TV.
Sam and Dean come back with Charlie.
"Cover every reflection," Dean says to me. I jump off the couch and pull the blankets and sheets off, covering the TV and microwave. Sam and Dean have done the same and drawn all the curtains shut.
Sam sits down next to Charlie on the bed. "Hey, hey it's ok. Hey, you can open up your eyes Charlie. It's okay, all right?"
She looks up.
"Now listen. You're gonna stay right here on this bed, and you're not gonna look at glass, or anything else that has a reflection, okay? And as long as you do that, she cannot get you."
"But I can't keep that up forever. I'm gonna die, aren't I?" asks Charlie.
"No. No. Not anytime soon."
Dean sits on the other side of Charlie. "All right Charlie. We need to know what happened."
"We were in the bathroom. Donna said it."
"That's not what we're talking about. Something happened, didn't it? In your life...a secret...where someone got hurt. Can you tell us about it?"
"I had this boyfriend. I loved him. But he kind of scared me too, you know? And one night, at his house, we got in this fight. Then I broke up with him, and he got upset, and he said he needed me and he loved me, and he said "Charlie, if you walk out that door right now, I'm gonna kill myself." And you know what I said? I said "Go ahead." And I left. How could I say that? How could I leave him like that? I just...I didn't believe him, you know? I should have." She cries.
Dean takes me into the bathroom and closes the door. "All right, you're gonna stay with Charlie," he says softly.
"What?" I whisper back.
"Sammy and I are gonna go get Mary and you need to stay here."
"I can't babysit someone older than me."
Dean shakes his head. "You're not babysitting."
"Then what?"
"We'll give you a gun," he says. "You're protecting."
I roll my eyes. "Jane, this Mary chick is nuts. You're not going anywhere near what we're gonna do. But just in case…"
"Shoot first and ask questions later," I say.
"Atta girl."
We leave the bathroom and Dean goes out to the car. Charlie is crying softly into her knees. Dean hands me a shotgun and spare rocksalt bullets.
"Dean, seriously," hisses Sam.
"What?" Dean asks and I take the gun.
"You're leaving Janie here? What if…"
"Relax," I say. "You're plan will work."
"Why are you so calm when you're literally holding a gun?"
I look up at Dean.
"Dude, Jane's fine. Let's go."
They leave. Finally. I latch the door behind them, then cover the gold plating with a tissue.
I turn around and see Charlie looking at me.
"My brothers know what they're doing," I say with a smile.
"And the gun?" she asks.
I hold it to the side. Casually. Calmly. "Just a precaution," I say.
It's dawn when I hear Dean's special knock on the door. I wake up, and open the door.
"Morning sunshine," he says.
"You guys look like crap," I say.
"How'd you guys go?"
"Great," I say and open the door up. They both come in. Dean stands next to me and Sam goes to wake Charlie up.
"Nothing?" Dean asks me.
"Nothing," I say.
"Good."
I look up at Dean. "You going soft?" I ask.
"Not a chance," he says. Dean wraps an arm around my shoulders and pulls me in for a moment.
We get Charlie up and fed and filled with coffee and take her home.
"So this is really over?" she asks.
Dean nods. "Yeah, it's over."
"Thank you."
Dean shakes her hand and Charlie gets out of the car.
"Charlie," Sam says, she turns around. "Your boyfriend's death...you really should try to forgive yourself. No matter what you did, you probably couldn't have stopped it. Sometimes bad things just happen."
She smiles and goes into the house.
Dean hits Sam. "That's good advice." We drive off. "Hey Sam?"
"Yeah?" he says.
"Now that this is all over, I want you to tell me what that secret is," says Dean.
I say nothing. Sometimes them forgetting I'm here is a good thing.
"Look...you're my brother and I'd die for you, but there are some things I need to keep to myself."
"What about sharing with your sister?" I ask.
Sam says nothing, he's staring out the window.