“One morning, Chris just wouldn’t wake up. We took him to the best doctors we could find,
but none of them had any idea. Eventually, we just took him home, still in his coma. Then things started happening around the house. Unexplained things. I got so freaked out, we moved.” She explained, her voice echoing. “But they kept happening.”
“And you believe that there was some sort of supernatural force at work?” He asked her calmly, no hint as whether he believed her or not. “When did you turn to Crowley?” He asked, curious.
She sighed. “When we ran out of places to go. The boys thought it would be best, and then Crowley called in Cas.”
“It says in your statement, Mrs. Y/S/L/N, that last night, at approximately 10:00 p.m., Crowley put your sister into a state of hypnosis. He did this as part of a ritual that he believed would allow her to ‘project his unconscious into a…’ I’m sorry, I can’t read my own handwriting. ‘…Into a spirit realm, where he could locate your son ‘and bring him back to consciousness.’ Now, did you really believe that would help?” He asked, looking from his notes, back to her.
“I had to. Whatever he did, it worked.”
“Guys, we’re back!” You called out as you walked through the front door. “Thanks for watching him.” You smiled at Cas. After everything that had happened, you needed to ease back into life. Cas had quickly agreed to watch Chris while you did what was needed.
The rest of the afternoon was spent as a family, enjoying the simplicity of it all. Crafts with Chris, Cas popping in after dinner to tell him stories, trying to make sure he slept peacefully, and then tucking him in. “How long as we going to be here?” He asked you.
“Well, we’re staying here while the cops work at our house. And, your mom is downstairs talking to your grandma about what they want to do after things are sorted out.” You brushed his hair back. “Apparently, this was your dad’s old room. Your grandma told me that this house has been in the family for generations.” You made it sound like the coolest thing ever.
You were reading in bed when your sister rushed in, panicked. “It’s still happening.”
“What is?” You asked, putting your bookmark in between the pages and shutting your book.
“I heard the piano playing by itself downstairs and then things rearranged.” She was pacing, wired.
Getting out of bed, you shrugged. “Maybe you moved thing around without thinking about it?” You suggested.
“What? What is wrong with you?” She stared at you, looking close to tears at this point. You could see the rim of tears threatening to fall.
You let out a soft sigh. “I just want us to move on from this, that’s all.” What was so wrong about that? “I want us to be a normal family again.” Before all this, your family was close, and happy. You had your spats like all families, but you were there for each other.
She shook her head, determined to make you see things her way. “There is nothing normal about this, okay? These things are still here!” Just the thought sent shivers down your spine.
If she thought she was scared, there was no way she could imagine what you felt. “I went into that place to get my nephew back and something evil followed me.” Your eyes were on hers, wanting to get through this and move on, put this all behind you. “You saw it. You saw those things. Listen to me. Nothing is gonna bother us, not anymore. We have our family back. We have Chris.” It wasn’t you dismissing her fear, it was wanting her to realize that a lot had happened, it was natural to be spooked. “Isn’t that what we should be focusing on?” Chris had been in that dark, abysmal place much longer than you had. He was what was important.
Sam and Dean walked quickly up the walkway, determined, and focused. Hearing a door creaking, they both turned to look towards the sound. Sam smirked at Dean. “You first. You’re older.” He chuckled lightly.
“Rock, paper scissors?” Dean suggested.
“When was the last time you actually won?” Sam asked, amused.
Dean shot him a look. “Just do it.” They each held one palm face up, fist resting on it to prepare for their game of ‘rock, paper, scissors’.
Sam looked almost smug. “Get moving.” He laughed as Dean shot him a look. Sam still had no idea why the hell he ever tried.
“Shut up.” Dean grumbled, moving down the stairs.
“You know what? I don’t think we should be down here.” Sam pointed out. “Let’s go back.” He motioned back to the stairs that they had just come down. Dean ignored him, looking around the room, flipping through the first few pages of a book for a moment. As he went to step through some beads, Sam sighed. “That’s a private room. You should stay…” There was some crashing and Sam made a face of ‘told you so’. “See?”
Dean groaned. “Oh, my nuts.”
A moment later, the light was on, revealing Dean bent over, clutching his manhood. “I’m not helping.” Sam told him, shaking his head.
Kneeling, Dean was picking up random old VHS tapes when he spotted your brother in law’s name. Holding it up, he showed Sam. “This should be interesting.” He noted.
“Might be.” Sam wasn’t getting his hopes up on this one. It had been one dead end after another once they had started compiling information on this type of thing. Demons that even Crowley wasn’t fond of. Finally, it seemed they had found something tucked away, and forgotten. They were ever that lucky.
“Hey.” The young boy greeted the person off camera as he sat in the wooden chair.
“I would love to ask you some simple questions. But they’re the good kind, the kind you can’t get wrong.” Their voice was kind, and trying to remain comforting to him. Without waiting for much of an answer, they went on. “Do you like living here?”
He nodded. “Yeah.”
Both Winchester men watched the movie intently. “Amateur framing. Just horrible.” Sam muttered to himself. Dean shushed him, making Sam glance at him for a moment. Sighing, Sam pressed fast forward, speeding through most of the interview until he thought something useful might be heard.
“Can you stop it?” Came the younger sounding voice of your mother-in-law, sounding worried.
He stood as the unnamed woman spoke. “I could try to take away his gift to suppress his memory of his ability.” She explained.
“How would we do that?”
“I’ll show you.” The boy spoke, his eyes still closed, his head turned to his right. Suddenly, he turned to his right, around the chair, so that his back was to the camera.
Sam’s brows were furrowed, confused. Holding up the remote, he rewound the tape until he was sitting again. “Who the hell’s he talking to?” He muttered, letting the scene play through once more.
He stood as the unnamed woman spoke. “I could try to take away his gift to suppress his memory of his ability.” She explained.
“How would we do that?”
“I’ll show you.” The boy spoke, his eyes still closed, his head turned to his right.
Pausing, Sam squinted, pointing to the tv. “Right there.”
Moving towards the bathroom, you were surprised when MIL/N opened the door and seemed flustered. “Oh my God, Y/N!” She breathed.
“MIL/N?” You looked at her, confused.
“Did you see her?” She was breathing a bit heavily. “I saw someone.” I followed her eyes were she was looking, seeing nothing.
You shook your head. “No, you didn’t.” Just like your sister, she seemed to be shaken up, as well.
Licking her lips, she seemed distressed that you didn’t believe her. “No. I did.” She insisted.
Her hands were on your forearms as you held her biceps, your eyes on hers. “MIL/N, there is no one here.” Your voice was firm, not changing your stance on the matter. “Because if there was,
that would scare my family and I don’t need my sister hearing any of that stuff right now. Understand?” Your voice softened a touch, realizing that she didn’t need someone being an ass to her at the moment. Tough love had a fine line.
After a moment, she began nodding her head. “Yeah, yeah. Um…It was probably my imagination.” She agreed, each of you letting the other’s arms go.
You gave her a small smile before turning. “Sorry. You should get some sleep.” Making your way to your room, you just hoped this was over with soon.
The next morning, you let your sister sleep in and brought Chris out front to play. Time to be a normal, fun loving kid. The two of you were playing with those can phones that kids like to make, you down in the yard, him on the porch. “Aunt Y/N/N?” He said into the can. “Aunt Y/N/N?” He said a bit louder.
Coming up in the porch, you tickled his sides. “I got ya!” You laughed, holding him close.
“Oh my God!” He laughed.
“I’m gonna eat ya!” You said dramatically.
The boys remained in the old house, continuing to look for more clues, more information, anything they could find. They were surprised when MIL/N showed up, looking a bit shaken. Sam handed her a glass of water before they got into things. “Are you okay?” Sam asked, concerned.
She sipped her water and composed herself. “Whatever it was that was haunting my family is not done with us. Last night I saw someone in my house. I need your help.” Her voice was just above a whisper, as if she feared whoever she saw could hear her.
“Come on.” Dean sighed. “Do you remember when your son was visited when he was a young boy? Well, we have a video of that.” He explained.
“Wait, what?” She asked, pausing for a moment.
Dean turned to look at her. “It seems that it was recorded.”
Once they’d gotten to the basement, it was Sam’s turn to explain things. “I,uh, digitized the footage taken that night.” He was leaning forward, fingers on the keyboard. “I cropped and lightened the image.” Quickly, his fingers moved, all three of them watching the screen that showed a much younger version of her son. Her eyes were drawn to the man in the corner, her breath catching in her throat. “That’s Y/N.” He pointed out.
Her hand went to her mouth, shaking her head. “W-why would she be there? And how?” She breathed, her eyes watering, but staying locked on the image of you from years before you’d ever laid eyes on her son. Both Winchester men looked over to her, as if they knew something that she didn’t. “What?”
Sometime later, she was sitting on the couch, nerves shot. Hearing a knock on the door, she stood up quickly, just as Dean rushed down the stairs. “She’s here.” He told her. She watched as he opened the door, and could hear the smile in his voice. “Pam, hi, come in.” He moved aside. In walked a pretty brunette who seemed to have enough spunk for everyone. “Pam, this is a family friend. MIL/N, this is Pam.” He introduced them.
“Nice to meet you, MIL/N.” She smiled, pushing her sunglasses up off her face. Peaking around MIL/N, she wiggled her fingers at Sam. “Hey, good lookin’. Offer still stands.” He blushed, which only encouraged her. “Awe, a girl can’t give up, now can she?” She smirked, putting her arm around her shoulders.
“I’m, uh…married…” She told her.
Pam sighed. “Damn shame, coulda had a girl’s night.” She shrugged. “So, what’s the word, boys?”
Dean licked his lips and moved to stand near Dean. “We have questions that need answers.” He explained. “Ones that we can’t exactly get anywhere but where you’re capable of ‘going’.”
“Alright, let’s get this show on the road.” She removed her arm from around you and took a deep breath.
They set themselves up in the basement, her black cloth set smoothly over the round table. Candles were set up in the middle, set up just so. The lights flickered around them before going out completely. Their hands remained linked, forming a circle. Pam’s eyes were closed, and MIL/N’s heart was hammering in her chest.
The light above the table had remained on, and was starting to sway ever so slightly. Everyone but Pam slowly looked up at it. “What do they want?” Her voice finally broke the silence, snapping MIL/N’s eyes to her. Her chest rose and fell in a steady manner, no outward signs that she was nervous in any way. “K-I-L-L. Kill. They want to kill.” She breathed.
“Where are they?” Sam asked quietly.
Pam gave him a simple nod that she had heard him. “Where are they?” She repeated. “Hiding.” Swallowing, you saw as Dean started to turn a bit out of the corner of her eye. The candles moved and flickered as if a phantom breeze were in the room. “Tell us where to find them.” She said calmly.
“Lady of Angels.”
Getting back from dropping Chris off, you found your sister, lying on the floor, knocked out. Crouching next to her, you sighed. “Sis?” Looking around, you decided to carry her to the couch, and get her more comfortable.
It was just after dark when the Impala rolled to a stop in front of the old abandoned hospital. The entire ride, no one spoke a single word. Each of their minds drifting to something different. Flashlights in hand, they made their way into the dark, dusty halls. “Most of my work was in this east wing.” MIL/N told them. “It’s all closed now.” She mused. Which, was pretty obvious by the looks of things. “Now only the ghosts are left.”
Despite there being no other people, their voices remained barely more than a whisper. Their lights shined into rooms, giving them a view of tipped over chairs, chipped walls, and dirt covered floors. Keeping close together, they moved almost in unison.
“Question is- what are we looking for?” She asked, her eyes scanning the area.
Pam spoke up. “Forget the building itself- think of the doctors, nurses you worked with, patients, everyone.” She told her.
Entering in a room that housed an old, rusty hospital crib, MIL/N had a shiver run down her spine. It looked closer to a small jail than anything. While it may have looked far different when in use, now the only thing it radiated was decay. Moving forward, they neared what had once held a cot, jumping when an unexpected noise filled the silence. Looking down, she sighed- it was an old baby doll. Lying there, as if simply forgotten. Part of her wondered about the child who had cherished this doll. Her thoughts were broken when it continued to make noise, a creepy drawn out version of ‘mama’.
Thankfully, they made their way back to the hall, plastic drapes spread apart like curtains. Pam stopped next to a doorway, her head turning to look into the darkness. “What is it?” MIL/N asked her, watching Pam’s face. Her hand went to the frame, leaning on it. Her breathing quickened before she pushed away from the offending space.
“In there.” She motioned.
MIL/N was the first to walk in, turning more towards the left. Dean was the next to walk through the door, then Sam, and finally, Pam. Their eyes scanned every bit they could, noting the boarded up windows. “What was in this room?” Sam asked, eyes on her.
“This was…an ICU…” She told him, her eyes wide. “I remember it very well.”
“So, we doing pizza night tonight?” MIL/N glances to BIL/N as they walk down the nearly pristine hospital hallway.
Looking up at her, he has a counter offer. “How about mac and cheese?” He suggests.
“Hi, Pam.” She says to a passing nurse before smiling at BIL/N. “Mac and cheese, hm? I think that can be done.” She nodded, her hand on the shoulder opposite from her. Leading him into the room, she went to the far right bed. “Keep quiet, don’t touch anything.” She patted his shoulder gently. “How is he?”
“His vital signs are stabilizing, but he’s still unresponsive.” The nurse showed MIL/N the charts as she explained this. Her attention was ripped from the information on the clipboard when his heart monitor started beeping erratically. With a growl, he sat up and lunged for BIL/N, causing both women to panic, their hands trying to pry his from the boy.
His screaming alerted a nearby doctor and another nurse, who came to assist. MIL/N moved around the bed, pulling her son to her, holding him close. “It’s okay, it’s okay.” She said soothingly.
Purse over her shoulder, MIL/N made her way towards the elevator, looking forward to going home. It didn’t take long for the ‘ding’ to alert her to the elevator doors about to open. Her eyes were on her purse as she stepped in, pressing the button, and then her focus was back on the contents of her purse.
Glancing to the only other occupant of the small space, her brows furrowed. “Parker?” She tried to get his attention. “What are you-? You should be resting. You shouldn’t be out of bed.” She said gently. Moments ticked by as Parker said nothing, acting as if he didn’t even know she was there. Feeling awkward, she licked her lips and smiled at him. “Look, I wanted to apologize for my son the other day. He was being a nosy kid.” She told him, her tone saying ‘you know how kids are’.
With a ding, the doors slid open. Parker simply walked out, still not acknowledging her. He turned to the left, and MIL/N moved forward, towards the receptionist’s desk. “Hey, Hilary?” She started. “Why is the patient from room 104 up and walking around?” Her arm was resting on the neat area in front of her, her other hand gripping the strap of her purse.
“What do you mean?” Hilary turned, confused.
“The patient from ICU. Parker Crane.” She explained.
Hilary moved closer, watching MIL/N’s face. “What do you mean…walking around?”
Looking to the elevator, MIL/N motioned towards it. “I just rode down in the elevator with him. H-he should be in bed, on the monitor, with flui–”
Holding up a hand, Hilary gently interrupted her. “MIL/N, that patient died yesterday morning.”
“What?” She asked quietly in disbelief.
“He jumped to his death.”
MIL/N’s fear spiked, her eyes wide as she looked towards the hall. What had that been?
Sitting up with a low groan, you opened your mouth and reached in, yanking out a tooth. Confusion, and then shock washed over your face as you looked down at the tiny, bloody bone between your two fingers.
While your breathing was heavy, you turned on the cold water, rinsing it. Holding it up, your hand was shaking. “Oh no.” You hung your head, leaning your palms on the sink. “No, no. Not yet.” Controlling your breathing, your eyes were snapped shut. “Please not yet.”
“Your dead soul is killing his living body.” A woman’s raspy voice told you.
“I want to live!”
“Only if you kill her.” The word ‘her’ was drawn out in a low breath.
You sobbed. “No. Please, no!” You replied. “Please, mother. Please don’t make me do it.” You begged.
“But you must.” She insisted. “Or you’ll waste away.” She warned. Your gaze hardened, looking up at your reflection in the mirror. Your jaw was set as you regained control of yourself.
They had made their way to the records room, on the hunt for the records of Parker Crane. Each had gone off to cover their own section, wanting to cover as much as they could. “Yes, we can!” Sam grinned from behind Dean, holding up a patient’s file.
“No way.” Dean shut his own file, tossing it back on the shelf.
Rushing past his brother, he called out to MIL/N. Putting the file on the small table, they all hovered over it, flashlights aimed at the paper. All of them eager to find out something. “Is that our man?” Pam asked as MIL/N looked over the information.
She nodded. “Parker Crane, that’s him.” She told them.
Pam tapped on the address line. “This address. There’s something there.” There was no question in her voice. They all looked at each other, forming a silent plan.
Hearing your sister screaming, you moved back to the couch where you had left her. Just to find her flailing at the air. Sitting at her side, you tried to calm her. “It’s okay, it’s okay.” You told her while gently pushing her arms down. “Shhh. It’s okay. You’re okay.”
She sat up, breathing heavily. “Where is she?” She asked.
“Who?” You asked, furrowing your brows.
“The woman!” She got up, rushing room to room, panicked. When she bolted up the stairs, you were quick to follow. “Where are you!” Y/S/N called out, looking side to side.
“I still don’t know who you’re talking about.” You followed her around, wanting her to just stop for a minute. “What happened?” You asked, shutting her bedroom door.
There was pure terror on her face. “Someone attacked me.” Y/S/N gasped.
“In the living room. She hit me and all these things are back. We gotta get Chris and get out of the house.” She finally took a breath.
You shook your head. “It’s not the house. You know that. We’ve been through this before. They will follow us.” There was a serious look on your face, your tone firm. “You have to just not be afraid. You have to relax.”
Y/S/N looked at you like you were insane. “Relax?” She breathed. “Relax? I can’t relax!” Her eyes were watery, the tears threatening to spill at any moment. “There are ghosts everywhere. It’s like we’re already dead!”
“No, it’s not!” You snapped, gripping her arms a bit. “No it’s not.” This time, your tone was a lot calmer. “This is nothing like being dead. I know. I have seen it. I have seen where these things exist. They want what you have- life.” You say the moment that it hit her. “But they have no power over you. All you have to do, and they will go away.”
Hearing noise from downstairs, you started to turn. Slowly, it got louder until it leveled out. It was someone playing the piano. Looking at her, you were clearly annoyed. Your feet moved you slowly down the stairs, your sister behind you, heading towards the room that the piano was in.
You slowly opened the door to the darkened room, it’s hinges creaking. Reaching in, you flipped the light switch, illuminating the room. You walked in first, looking to your right, and opening the other side of the door. Your sister was steps behind you. “See, I told you.” You watched as she stood in front of the piano and began playing it, singing a soft song.
Furrowing your brows, your eyes went from her fingers to her face. “What’re you doing?” You asked.
She continued on for a moment before stopping. Standing up straight, she looked over at me. “That’s the song that’s been playing.” She said softly.
“What song?” You didn’t remember her mentioning one. “What are you talking about?”
Her head tilted to the side. “You don’t know that song?”
You shook your head. “No, I don’t.”
“That’s my song. The song I wrote for you.” Her voice almost cracked with emotion.
Composing your thoughts, you finally spoke up. “Well, it’s not the song that we should be worried about.” Turning, you directed her attention away from it. “There’s somebody in this house.” Walking back through the doors, you left your sister standing at the piano. You went into the living room, and grabbed a bat. Passing the doors, you didn’t stop as you spoke to her. “Stay here.”
Sam smashed the glass to one of the windows, which had some wood boarding it up, as well. “Hey, look, they left a window open.” It took him almost no effort to kick the boards down, splintering them down the middle. His long legs helped him climb through the window with ease, followed closely by Dean, then MIL/N, and finally, Pam.
They hadn’t gotten all that far when Pam stopped, her flashlight wavering. MIL/N came back, wondering what was going on. “Do you feel something?” She asked gently.
“Let’s just say that this house isn’t a place where many good things have happened.” Her eyes were still scanning the area ahead.
Sam had pulled out a camcorder and was recording as they moved slowly. Entering the living room, each light was aimed in a different direction, but no matter where you looked, there were cobwebs, and dust. Layers of them. MIL/N sneezed, and then covered her nose and mouth, smelling something…odd. Sam looked around, trying to figure it out. “What is that smell?”
Turning, he looked to where his brother was, next to the stairs. “Upstairs.” He motioned with his head. Holding up the camcorder, Sam led the way. MIL/N stayed in the living room, continuing to look around. Continuing to move, she entered the dining room, hearing the floorboard creak.
Dean reached the top of the stairs and looked into the vintage looking baby stroller, before pushing it off to the side a bit. The wheels squeaked as it rolled away, stopping only when it hit the corner of a wall.
He continued to walk down the hall, coming to a locked door, but he continued to try to open it, wiggling the handle. Getting frustrated, he rammed the wooden door with his shoulder, putting more and more force behind it until it gave way, swinging open.
Furrowing his brow when his camera glitched for a second, he continued into the bedroom. He assumed that at one point, a child had lived here. There were rocking horses, a dollhouse, and dolls all about. The bed was no longer on the boxspring, leaning off a bit. Sam followed him in, looking around himself. “I’m guessing…this might be Parker Crane’s bedroom.” He whispered.
Dean scoffed lightly. “Seems a little girly for a boy’s bedroom, don’t you think?” He countered.
Turning, he motioned to the dollhouse. “I mean, look at this dollhouse.” Dean crouched, looking in the small windows.
“What?” Sam asked, pushing his brother. Dean pointed the flashlight at Sam, raising an eyebrow. “I played with a dollhouse.” He shrugged. “This is a Rhode Island Red.” Sam pointed, his eyes on the roof of the dollhouse. Standing up, he glanced to his left. “Come on, let’s get out of here.” He whispered, his eyes on the rocking chair holding two old dolls.
Just after Dean stood, as well, the line of rocking chairs began to rock back and forth. They creaked, and squeaked, making the boys look at each other. They both turned to look towards the wooden toys at the same time. Slowly, the rocking chairs slowed, until only a couple were moving ever so slightly.
A child yelling from behind them made them jump and whip around. Whoever it had been was already out of the room, both of them staring at the empty doorway. Sam was breathing a bit heavy, trying to calm his heart rate. You’d think having done this for so long, he’d be far less jumpy. They had backed up, just a bit, and Dean began to lower the camera, so it was now facing behind them, towards the bed. Slowly, they continued to back up, their eyes remaining in the same place. Their calves hit the bed and Dean glanced casually behind himself. “Sam…” He breathed, patting Sam’s arm slightly, letting him know to turn.
As they did, they saw a little blonde girl with pigtails, tied with pink ribbons. “You can’t be in here.” She whispered without turning. After a breath, her head turned to the side, only showing her profile. “If she sees you, she’ll make me kill you.” She warned.
Dean gave the small girl a nod, looked at Sam, and they both made their way towards the bedroom door, eager to get out. Sam peaked in just seconds later, to the room empty once again.
“You’re trying to reach her, but you won’t.” You were sitting in the room, facing the piano, with a harsh look on your face. You were gripping the bat in your hands, tightly. “Not from over there.” You shook your head ever so slightly. “Shadow’s are your home now.” Standing in one fluid motion, you ignored the slight creak from the floor. As you walked to the large open doors, your eyes were on the piano. At the last minute, you turned and walked out.
MIL/N moved through the beaded curtain that Pam had gone through not that long ago. Her flashlight moved around the room as her eyes did, finally landing on a painting of a mother and daughter. “Pam…” She breathed. “This is the woman who was in my house.” Hearing a creaking noise, she looked up.
Pam called out to her, rushing forward as the chandelier began to fall. She managed to tackle her out of the way, the falling object crashing to the ground, shattering in places. Dean rushed in, worried. “What happened?” He asked, moving to help up the two women. “What happened?” He pressed.
“Light. Gimme your light.” She told them, moving to where she had been before. Their lights were on her as she closed her eyes. “You’re not friendly, are you?” She spoke to the spirit world. While it was harder, and sometimes didn’t work without the proper circle, sometimes she got lucky. “No.” MIL/N gasped, covering her mouth with her hand. A loud bang could be heard from the floor above them, making her look up. It was followed by heavy footsteps, pounding, and slamming doors. Soon, they were all trapped in the one room, MIL/N’s eyes wide with fear, looking to Pam. “Who are you?” Pam yelled, looking up, wanting answers. “Mother Mortis.” She breathed. “Mother of…death.” She added.
Dean looked at Pam. “What does that mean?”
Licking her lips, she was slightly panicked. “It’s literal.” She told him. “It simply means ‘the mother of Parker Crane’.” Her eyes went from Dean, to MIL/N.
Sam was behind Pam, and was closest to the noise that started by his side. Everyone slowly began to turn, looking in the direction of the sound. All sound in the room seemed to cease, save for the sound of their blood pumping through their veins, reminding them of their own mortality. The sound resumed, as if someone was running their nails along the back of the nearly empty bookshelf, which Sam was now directly in front of.
His hand reached forward, shaking as it neared the wooden backing. Tapping along as he went, he moved to the right. Sam pulled his hand away, and moments later, there was a tap on where his hand had just been. MIL/N watched, her hand gripping Dean’s arm, with watery eyes. More from fear than anything. She watched as Sam reached out once more, this time knocking on the backing with his knuckles, much like one would do on a door.
Whatever was on the other side replied with two heavy knocks of their own. MIL/N gasped, whimpering slightly as she backed up with Dean a bit. Her hand was covering her mouth, trying to stop the sounds of terror from slipping out.
Sam continued to move to the right, eying the entire wall, and bookshelf, in front of him. Dean handed MIL/N his camcorder, and went to help Sam move the bookshelf. Both men gripped two shelves, bracing themselves for the weight. It took a moment to start moving, but she watched as it came away from it’s resting place.
Pam moved forward, adding a bit more man power to the endeavor. Just with her extra help, it seemed to move much easier, shifting to the left. MIL/N was the first to start gagging, followed by Dean, then Sam, and finally, Pam.
As their light shined into the room that had just been opened, they were met with rows of dirty, moldy sheets. Draped over what were clearly bodies- bodies that were sitting up. Moving forward, Sam kept his mouth and nose covered, realizing the bodies were sitting in what looked like church pews, hands placed neatly on their laps. Hands that were still flesh covered.
Dean counted at least fifteen white sheets, just waiting for them to move. Sam was now in the front of the room, eyes scanning the front row. His eyes once more went to the hands. The stench suggested a high level of decomposition would have happened, but what he was seeing suggested otherwise.
Setting up his flashlight so that it was aimed straight ahead, Sam glanced over to the sheets, making sure it was hitting where he wanted. His hand resumed it’s place on his mouth as he pointed to the first body in the first row. Crouching, his heart was hammering in his chest. His hands gripped the bottom of the disgusting sheet, raising it, causing everyone to gag once more.
Sam nearly threw up, falling backwards, coughing, as he let the sheet fall. A few more false alarms of bile, and Dean was helping him up. “Don’t touch anything.” Sam whispered before looking over the medical instruments that appeared far too clean. MIL/N was focusing on the bodies, Dean was moving towards the other side of them, and Pam stayed by MIL/N.
Spotting what looked like an old trunk, Dean noted that it was unlocked. Despite Sam’s warning, he reached forward to open it. It opened smoothly, no noise at all. His eyes spotted the first news article on the top ‘Bride in Black’. “Guys.” He called the others over. Crouching down, he thought quickly to himself. “Bride in Black…” He whispered. “I know that name.”
“Dean, whatcha got?” Sam asked, looking down towards the contents of the chest.
“One of the victims managed to elude the killer, police said, she described her attacker as an old woman dressed in a black wedding gown and veil.” His voice got softer as he spoke. “Bride in Black claims it’s fifteenth victim.” He glanced up at Sam.
MIL/N looked to her right- at the cloaked bodies. “Victims.”
Pam turned to face them, as well. “Oh, my God.” She groaned, backing up a tad, backing into what looked like a mannequin. “Wait a sec…” She stared at the face, the hollow black eyes seeming to look into her soul. Licking her lips, she closed her eyes and gently placed her hand over the face.
White power was applied smoothly over the last bits of skin, followed by mascara to the lashes. They were careful with each little stroke, watching themselves in their mirror. Overdone red lips followed, their strokes applying layer after layer.
While the brunette in the background screamed around her gag, an elegant black wedding gown was slipped on. With an odd finesse, a grey wig done up was placed upon their head, topped with the black veil, the look complete.
Blue eyes glanced to the screaming female, no sign of regret, or sadness. Gripping the small medical saw, they moved towards the bound woman, causing her to scream more.
With a loud gasp, Pam jumped back, removing her hand. “P-Parker wore that dress.” She told them, pointing to the garment. Breathing heavily, she continued. “To commit his murders. It was his disguise.” His eyes went from Dean to MIL/N. “He killed for his mother because she forced him to. He wanted his childhood back. That’s why he went after your son.” Pam had a look of compassion as her eyes locked on MIL/N’s.
“Y/S/N!” MIL/N rushed up, shutting the backdoor to the SUV that Y/S/N was opening.
Her hand went to her heart, feeling it pound. “MIL/N!” She gasped. “Where have you been?”
As opposed to answering, she began to speak. “I need to speak to you. Where is she? Y/N.” She asked, giving no hint as to why she was asking.
“He’s not feeling well. He’s been in bed all day.” She explained.
“I just dropped him off at a friend’s, why?”
“You and the kids are in danger. I’ll explain, but not here. Let’s just please get in the car and let’s go.” MIL/N urged.
Y/SIL/ looked worried. “You’ve been seeing them, too?” She asked. “Around the house?”
Taking a deep breath, she prepared herself to tell Y/S/N something that was hard to think of. “It’s not the house. It’s Y/N.” She told her simply. “Y/BIL/N isn’t here, she is.”
After a look over her shoulder, she slid back into her car and drove away.
“They’re gone.” Dean glanced to Pam and Sam. “It’s go time.”
Sam was with Pam, wiring her up. “Okay, we’ll hear everything.” He told her. “Sing out if ya need us, the codeword is ‘quesadilla.” He sat back. “Say it with me. ‘Quesadilla’.”
Dean cut in. “I thought we agreed on ‘pie’ as the codeword?” He pointed out.
“Quesadilla is easier to bring up in a conversation.”
“Not at all.” Dean shook his head. “How would you bring up a quesadilla in a conversation?”
The pair of them began bickering, both trying to make their side seem more valid. Talking over each other, Pam rolled her eyes. “Guys, guys, guys!” She looked between them when they finally stopped. “I don’t think it really matters. You’ll know if I need you.”
Pulling the syringe from behind his ear, he set it by Pam. “Tranquilizer.” Reaching out, she took it without hesitation.
You had pulled on your robe and were now moving through the downstairs, towards the kitchen. Spotting a note on the fridge, you pulled it off.
Took Y/S/N shopping.
Be back soon.
You weren’t given any time to do anything else before there was a loud knocking on your front door. Sighing, you went to answering it, seeing someone that you didn’t recognize. “Can I help you?” You asked her.
“My name’s Pam.” She gave you a small smile. “I’ve worked with Crowley before, and well, no one has seen him. I was hoping that we could talk. I’m trying to find any leads that I can.”
“Sure.” You nodded, letting her in.
As they pulled up to a curb near a park, Y/S/N turned to MIL/N. “What do you know?” She asked.
“I think that when she went into that other world, something else came back. We believe it’s a spirit that’s killed many times before, and it’ll kill again. That’s why I had to get you and the kids away from him.” She explained.
A stray tear fell from Y/S/N’s eye. “Last night when I looked into her eyes, like I have for our whole lives, for the first time…I didn’t recognize her.” She told her softly, hating this. “I was scared of her.”
“Right now, at the house, there’s been a friend of your cousins, she’s talking to her. We’re going to try and sedate her. And…when she’s under, we’re going to try to get to the real Y/S/N.”
“What if we can’t find her?” She asked, terrified for her sister.
Pam was sitting across from you, a concerned look on your face as you began to cough. “Are you feeling okay?” She asked.
“Oh, I’m fine.” You lied. Just by looking at you, he knew that you weren’t. Your skin was taking a grayish tone, and your lips looked extremely dry. “Just woke up feeling a little under the weather.
She gave you a small nod, choosing to change the subject. “I supposed I wanted to ask you if you had any idea what happened to Crowley?”
You shook your head. “No, I don’t.”
Rubbing her eyes, she sighed. “I should remind you that I’m not the type of person that’s gonna look at you funny if you tell me something unusual.” She said honestly. “I’ve seen things with my own eyes that most people have to go to sleep to conjure up.” Her eyes were staring into space, off to your right.
“Crowley sent me to a place that still haunts my dreams. But, I got my nephew back.” You sighed, lacing your fingers together. “I don’t know.”
Pam spotted a tooth on the floor and put the toe of her tightly laced black boot over it, slowly sliding it back towards her. Her eyes remained on you, listening. “Yeah, I’m sure it was pretty horrific.” She nodded. Leaning down, she moved as if swatting at something, but was grabbing the tooth. “I thought I saw a spider.” She shrugged. “When you were a boy, you said it was an old woman who haunted you. Did you see that same woman when you were in that other world?” She asked, standing up.
You stared at her, then shook your head. “No.” As she began to walked, your eyes stayed on her, cautious. The moment she was by your side, you grabbed her wrist, looking up at her. “Say, would you like a drink?”
“A-A-A…water…a glass of water would be nice.” Pam stuttered nervously.
“Sure.” You agreed before standing, the chair creaking slightly.
Pam listened as you walked out of the room, towards the kitchen. Moving a bit, she held up the tooth that she had picked up. Looking over it, she furrowed her brows slightly. Pam quickly shoved the tooth into her pocket, pulling out the syringe instead. Pulling off the protective cover, Pam had her back to the rest of the room.
“Whatcha got there?” You asked, walking in, cup in hand.
She held her hands up. “Nothin’.” Pam shrugged.
You raised your eyebrows. “Thought maybe you were ‘making a call’.” Pam stared at you like she had no idea what you were talking about. “Mother tells me that you like ‘talking’ to…them.”
“I didn’t realize that you guys had talked this morning.” Pam replied, her eyes going to your left arm, that was currently behind you. “What have you got behind your back?”
Instead of answering, you seemed to put it more behind you, bending your elbow more. “Why don’t you just ask them what I have behind my back?” You watched her swallow nervously. “Come on. Let’s see.” Starting to smile, you watched her move slightly. “Mother tells me you were very good at the house.” By now, there was a full on grin spread across your face. “Come on. It’ll be fun.
Licking her lips, Pam took a calming breath. “What is Y/N…” She gathered her courage and changed what she was asking. “What is…Parker Crane…hiding behind his back?” Pam watched your smile fall. “Knife.”
“She was always right.” Parker said, holding out the knife.
Sam and Dean looked at each other. “Shit!” They yelled at the same time.
Pam stood their, watching Parker use your body to throw the cup in your hand at her, dodging out of the way, just in time. It shattered as it hit the wall. Next thing Pam knew, you were lunging at her with a knife, swinging this way, and that. Eager to sink it into her body. With a yell, the knife was embedded into the wood of the cabinet.
Dean was the first one out, glancing to Sam. “Come on!” As Dean was rushing towards the house, Sam scrambled to grab the taser. As soon as he reached the door, he kicked it in, looking around. “Pam! Pam?!”
“In here.” She gasped for air.
He went straight for the pair, only to be elbowed in the face. From there, Dean’s face met the wall. Sam ran in, seeing Dean on the floor, and your back to him. Without hesitating, he tasered your lower back, making you cry out. Your body convulsed, letting Pam go. She fell to the floor as you turned, stabbing Sam in the ass with the syringe needle.
Sam pulled the needle out, already feeling groggy. He began to lose his balance, wobbling as if drunk. It didn’t take the tall hunter long to crash down, putting all his weight on his brother.
As Dean was struggling to push Sam off, Parker used your body to crawl over to him, and hit his head against the floor.
When Pam came to, the entire place was dark, save for a lantern, which you were holding up. She looked over at you and it hit her. “Well, if you’re here, I don’t have to ask where I am.” A female yelling in the distance caught her attention, making her turn from you.
You, however, were used to these sounds. “He killed you.” You spoke up. “I’m sorry. That thing is going to murder my family if I don’t get back! I-I’m trapped here. I’m getting weaker the longer I’m away from my body.” As you spoke, you became more passionate about what you were saying, stressing the importance of what was happening.
Pam had been looking down, thinking, when something came to mind. “Crowley.”
“Crowley? He’s not here.”
“We’ll have to find a way.” Pam said seriously. Taking the lantern, she moved towards the front door, which opened on their own. “Into the further we go.” She looked towards you.
Parker was standing in front of the mirror, your face staring back at him. His mother speaking to him, a low, menacing sound. “You need to kill the others.” She told him. “It’s the only way to stay alive.”
Screwing your eyes closed, he clenched his teeth together. “Shut up! Shut up! Get out of my head!” Turning, your hand pushed and pulled the plastic shower curtain, continuing to scream ‘get out of my head’, over and over.
As she watched Y/S/N move back towards the car from dropping a few things off for Chris, claiming to have forgotten them, she pulled her phone out. MIL/N’s eyes read the text, looking a bit hopeful. “I just got a text. Says they’re ready.”
Y/S/N nodded. “Wait, I think we should have back up.”
“Like who? And why?”
“Crowley, and because it’s always safer to have someone powerful with you.” She explained. “Crowley seemed to like Y/N, but after everything, she told him to get the hell away from her. And much worse. He stormed off.”
MIL/N nodded. “Will he come?” She asked.
Y/S/N shrugged. “All we can do is hope.”
You led the way, holding the lantern straight in front of you. Pam followed close behind, always looking around. “Crowley!” Pam yelled, looking around.
Flinching, you listened to the cries around you. You turned towards Pam. “Don’t do that.” Facing forward once more, you moved cautiously. Something told you to check on Pam, to see that she had stopped moving. “What is it?”
“There’s someone standing in front of you.” She told you.
Your breathing was slightly labored as you turned, looking around. “I don’t see anybody.” If they were there, you couldn’t tell.
“He’s right in front of you.” Her voice held fear this time. “He’s- he’s talking to you.”
“What’s he saying?” You asked, keeping your eyes on one spot.
“He’s got your baby. He’s got your baby. He’s got your baby. He’s got your baby. He’s got your baby. He’s got your baby. He’s got your baby. He’s got your baby. He’s got your baby.” Pam told you. Over and over again, her voice becoming more fearful as she spoke.
“What’s he doing now?”
“He’s pointing at something.” Pam told you. You turned to look at her, and she pointed to where the man had been, as well. “Over there.” Her voice echoed ever so slightly.
You furrowed your brows for a moment before your eyes went wide. It was your house. Where this all started.
“I heard this…noise. I thought I was hearing things. So, I put on the radio, but just a couple minutes later, it was coming from the speakers. I moved closer, and next thing I know, I heard a man yell ‘I want it now!’. Scared the shit out of me.” Licking your lips, you shuddered. “I ran up to Chris’s room, and was terrified.” Just thinking of it made you want to forget about it completely.
She thought about it for a moment. “Interference, maybe?” She suggested.
“It was too clear, though. It was like this…whispering.” Part of you wished that she had been home, so she could know what you were talking about. You went to open your mouth when you heard a banging on the front door. Furrowing your brow, you turned to look towards the foyer.
You could hear your sister’s echoing, all the way from the house. A shadow caught your attention- it was a man, pacing. Once, twice, a third time. And then he was in the house. Slowly, the man looked at you, smiling before he turned and walked away.
“No! No! No! No! No! No! No!” Yelling, you ran for the front door, banging on it. “Hey! Hey!” You yelled, trying to get in at any costs. The loud banging on the door alerted you and your sister.
The light from inside switched on, making you gasp. You were looking at yourself. You watched as you opened the door, peeking through. “Hello?” You heard yourself call out. Panicked, you watched yourself shut the door, unable to see or hear you.
Across from you was a decent sized window with sheer curtains. “Y/S/N!” You screamed, getting up and running from the dining room. Pure fear was coursing through your veins.
She came running, looking panicked. “What? What?”
You pointed back the way you came. “There was someone in there. There was someone right there!” You were sure that she’d have you committed at some point, but you knew what you saw!
Anger and fear coursed through your veins, adrenaline making you feel stronger than you ever had. You handed the lantern to Pam and shoved the door with all your might, relief hitting you when it swung open. Turning, you snatched the lantern and ran up the stairs, two at a time, calling your sister’s name out.
Your sister grabbed your hand and pulled you with her, both of you stopping at the sight before you. Your front door was wide open, the chain simply hanging there. While you entered the code to disable the house alarm, she stayed near the stairs, looking in every direction for whoever could have managed to open the door.
“Get away!” You called out to the vile looking man that had been pacing your house. He snarled, showing you sharp teeth, unlike what any humans were. Rushing him, you shoved him, but he didn’t even budge. He hit you back, sending you to the foor. The foul stench of his breath hit you as he pulled you up, unmerciless in his attacks.
“Go to bloody hell!” You heard, slowly looking up.
His eyes turned towards you, a soft smile appearing. “Y/N.” He breathed. “It’s good to see you, love.” You pulled him into a hug, surprised when he returned it. “I think I can help you get out of here.” Glancing over, his eyebrows went up. “Well, well, well. Pamela?” He smirked. “May I ask what you’re doing here?”
“It happens.” She shrugged. “We all end up here eventually.”
Crowley sighed and looked at you. “You, Y/N, don’t belong here.” He said seriously. “Neither does that entity belong in your world.”
You shrugged. “I don’t know how to fight her.” It wasn’t like there was some crash course in this.
“Out there, in the darkness, she has a home.” Crowley began. “Where all her memories live from her life.” You furrowed your brows at him, wondering how this would help you. “Use those memories to draw her from her vessel so that you may get back in your body.”
Thinking for a moment, you nodded. “Where do I find her home?”
With a sigh, Crowley shoved his hands in his pockets and shook his head. “Only you know where that is.” He told you.
“I don’t remember.”
Crowley furrowed his brows. “Maybe we’re asking the wrong person.”
Walking into the room, you saw your brother in law as a child, sitting there. “I need your help, BIL/N.” You told him. This was so weird. “I don’t have memories of the old woman.” You explained. “You do. I need to know where she lives.
He stood slowly, and turned his head. “I’ll show you.” Quickly following him into the other room, you watched as he pointed. Your eyes went to where his finger pointed, and saw Pam slowly turn, making her way there.
Crowley was the last one to follow, giving the young BIL/N a nod before following you and Pam. Holding the lantern out, you led the three of you down the long set of stairs, wondering what you’d see at the bottom. Turning the corner of the wall the stairs were against, you saw a red door, which was a stark contrast to the black and greys surrounding it. As you neared, it slowly opened, creaking as it did.
MIL/N and Y/S/N walked into the darkened house later that night, worried looks on their faces. “Pam?” Y/S/N left the door wide open before linking her arm with her mother in law’s. “Y/N?” She called out. “Y/N?” She tried again.
The two of found him sitting at the dining room table. “Hey, sis.” Parker said with your voice. “If you’re looking for Chris, he isn’t home yet.”
“Didn’t…Pam stop by today?” Y/S/N asked.
Parker made you shake your head. “No, I don’t think so.”
As MIL/N flipped on the light switch, Parker snapped your eyes shut. MIL/n’s widened slightly. Slowly, as your eyes looked up at them, your sister panicked. She knew that something was very wrong. The skin on your face looked like that of someone much older than you were. MIL/N pulled her arm back, both women running as Parker stood, bolting after them.
Parker slammed the front door in their faces, glaring at them. “You did this to yourselves.” Both of them rushed into the room with the piano, trying to shut the door. Parker’s hand was between them, a yell coming from your throat as Parker pulled your hand free. Holding your wrist, Parker looked at the gash on your hand, laughing. “It’s been so long since I’ve felt real pain.”
MIL/N rushed to the piano. “Y/S/N! Help me.” Your sister turned, finding a place to push against the piano, the two of them trying to get it in front of the door.
“I miss it.” Your voice was low, sounding less and less like you. “But not as much as I miss inflicting it on others.” Parker rammed against the door roughly, the piano moving back with ease. Your sister and MIL/N ran to the other door, just for MIL/N to be shoved to the ground.
Y/S/N jumped on your back, doing her best. She was slammed back against the wall a few times before her grip loosened, allowing herself to be dropped to the ground. “Y/S/N, run!”
Scrambling backwards, Y/S/N watched in horror as her mother in law was locked in the room before it was her in the cross hairs. “I’ll be back for you, mommy!” Parker warned MIL/N.
Y/S/N made it through the house, into the kitchen, and to the door before she was in your arms. Her back to your chest, but Parker didn’t have the best hold on her. When she got free, she grabbed the closest thing to her- a saucepan- and hit Parker with it. 5 times. Then she turned to run, dropping the pan. Grabbing the metal tea kettle, Parker flung it at her, hitting her between the shoulder blades.
Lying on the ground, in pain, she attempted to crawl. “I didn’t want this for me.” Parker told her. “She wanted me to kill you, but I said ‘no’, but now, I know she was right. Parker grabbed her ankles, pulling her back and flipping her over. Parker straddled her waist, pinning her arms to her sides. Pointing a finger at her, he started to go off on her. “You are a miserable, ungrateful bitch.” He snapped. “You have no idea how much of your life you have wasted being afraid of the dead. Because pretty soon, you’re gonna be one of them.” Parker warned. “Then I’m going to take you to my home in the dark.” He cupped her cheek as she gasped for air. “You’ll realize how happy you should have been for your brief little moment in the sun.” Your lip turned up in a snarl, hands closing in around her neck. As she flailed below your body, the snarl turned into a grin. A happiness washing over Parker as he felt the power he held over her life.
Her eyes widened when it wasn’t you see was seeing above her, but an old woman. A scream met her ears before Chris hit the back of your head with a baseball bat. Parker rolled off of Y/S/N, grabbing the end of the bat, and yanking it from his grasp. The three of them tried to run, all of them screaming. One hand on the bat, Parker swung blindly, it barely missing them.
Y/S/N rushed them through the basement door, quickly shutting and locking it as Parker rushed after them. Remembering the second door, she slammed that shut, and locked it, as well. As a bat hit the door, she let out a small scream. “Go, go, go.” She ushered MIL/N and Chris down the stairs quickly as the pounding continued.
Shutting the white door behind them, she began looking around for anything that she could possibly use. Finding a crowbar, she slipped it through the loop that was meant for a padlock. Both her and Chris pushed the washing machine in front of the door to help barricade it.
Fog covered the floor as you stepped through the red door, wrapping around your legs, up to your thighs. Leading the way up the small set of stairs, you held your lantern high, lighting the haunting path in front of your little group.
As you approached a slightly open door, there was light coming from it. Opening it the rest of the way, you could see the little girl’s room that laid beyond. On the neatly made bed, with her back to you, was a little blonde girl in pigtails. A large pink bow tied perfectly around her waist, accenting her white dress.
Lowering the lantern, you walked into the room, around the end of the bed, wary. You set the lantern on the trunk on your way past it, no longer needing it’s light. “Hello?” You spoke to her. Reaching out, your fingertips touched her shoulder, causing her to whip her head in your direction.
In an odd turn of events, the blonde girl was in fact, a blond boy. He pulled off the pigtailed wig, slamming it on the bed. “My name is Parker!”
“WHAT IS THIS?” Came a woman’s angry voice from somewhere behind you, making you jump. Moving to the side, you watched her with the boy named Parker. “Did you do this?” She asked, her tone almost daring him to say ‘yes’. He quickly shook his head, earning a wide gaze from her. “DON’T YOU DARE!” She hollered at him before her hand struck his face hard enough to throw him onto his bed, the sound of skin against skin burned into your mind.
She was breathing heavily, her chest heaving as Parker looked up at her. “I’m sorry, mommy.” His voice was small, and timid. Parker all but cowered as he looked up at his mother.
A long thin finger pointed, the fingers on her other hand holding up the clearly offensive art. Parker stood quickly, lest he summon her wrath once more. “Speak the truth.” This time, her voice was much calmer, much sweeter, but no less fear inducing. “Did you?”
Parker began to nod, crying. “Yes.”
His mother crumbled the paper, rage taking over once more. “THAT IS NOT YOUR NAME!” She screamed in his face. “PARKER!” Holding up the paper, she pointed to the corner that was still smooth. “IS NOT YOUR NAME!” Even from where you were, you saw the tears in her eyes, and you assumed it was more from some imaginary wrong doing of Parker’s than anything. “That is the name your father gave you.” Parker was backing up the closer his mother was, her finger in his face. “Your name…is Marilyn.” She told him softly, speaking with fondness of this ‘Marilyn’. “Do you understand?” Parker quickly nodded, and she spoke, her voice clearly full of emotion. “Repeat after me.” She instructed him. “My name is Marilyn.” When he didn’t speak quick enough, her wrath showed it’s head once more. “SAY IT!”
“My name…is Marilyn.” He whimpered out, his entire body shaking slightly.
Ever so gently, she reached out, placing a hand on his cheek as you, Pam, and Crowley looked on. “Quiet now.” She said softly to the young boy as he sat on the bed. “If you don’t be a good little girl…” She began, stroking the cheek that just minutes ago had been struck by the very hand that was being so gentle now. “You’ll get…” Parker was visibly afraid, his eyes trained on hers.
His mother froze, slowly turning her head towards where the three of them were standing. Pointing at Crowley and Pam, she screamed, sending them backwards through the door that you’d just led them through. Your hand gripped the lantern tight, rushing to the door that had just been slammed shut.
Chris looked up at Y/S/N, already brave beyond his years. “Mommy, I can go into the darkness and find Aunt Y/N if I go to sleep.” He said calmly.
Instantly, she shook her head. “No. That’s too dangerous. I nearly lost you once. I’m never gonna let that happen again.”
“I can find her. I promise I’ll come back. I promise.” He assured her. “I will.”
Finally, she wordlessly caved, giving her boy permission to try to save them. He moved quickly, working on setting things up. The banging resumed, louder this time. Chris laid down, getting as comfortable as he could. “Be careful. I love you.” She breathed, watching him.
When he stood again, fog drifted over the ground, and the sole light was placed above the red door. His footsteps were soft, and careful as he moved towards the door, not flinching as it swung open on it’s own.
Crowley was banging against the bedroom door, shaking the handle. “Destroy her! Bloody end it!” He yelled.
You were backing away from the door, listening to his voice, worried. Turning quickly, you were taken aback as you were met with people in sheets. There was no way for you to tell how many there were, but there were no less than 8 standing before you. “Where am I?” You heard the whisper being carried through the air.
Trying to keep your breathing calm, you slowly reached your left hand towards one of the covered figures. Lifting the edge that was just about their shoulders, you pushed it back. There was a thin blonde woman, with her eyes closed. Nothing grotesque, or frightening about her. At least not that you could see.
Feeling a surge of bravery, you pushed back the sheet from another- finding another woman. You decided to take the chance, and slowly moved through the two bodies. Continuing on, he reached out and rid another of their sheet, just to hear a sick chuckle surround him.
Parker continued to ram the bottom of the fire extinguisher against the basement door until finally, it went through. Pulling the splintered wood from the frame, he was even more angry now.
Y/S/N could hear him moving down the stairs, taking his time. Her breathing picked up, worried for both herself, and her son. The moment he was in front of the door that blocked him from his targets, he yelled, ramming against it with the end of the extinguisher.
Dean was the first to come to, furrowing his brows when he saw Cas. “What’re you doing here?” He asked, his words slightly mumbled.
“I came to speak with you, and found you like this. When I realized something was wrong, I summoned Crowley. He’s currently attempting to reach the true Y/N.” He explained.
Pushing Dean off him, he groaned. “Why don’t you go after her? I mean…him.” He was confusing himself.
Cas sighed. “It’s not that simple. The longer the incorrect soul is using her body, the more it weakens. Her body is becoming frail. I’m afraid that should I use any type of force, she’d be lost to us for good.” He gave them a sad look. “If it should come to that, I will make sure that…thing, that abomination, does not leave.”
“Let her go!” Dean turned, hearing MIL/N’s voice.
“Stay with Sam!” Dean ordered, getting up and following her voice. He could hear the banging elsewhere in the house, so he was trying to be quick.
Y/S/N gripped the hammer tight, holding it to her chest as she shook, watching the drywall crack and the rubble fall to the ground. She let out a small scream as the wooden chair that had been against the wall fell, also splintering.
MIL/N rushed into Dean’s arms, thanking him for getting her out. “Where is he?” Dean asked, not wanting to run around the entire house.
“He’s got Y/S/N.” She told him, leading towards the banging.
Parker kicked in the remaining pieces of wood, snarling. Still shaking, she held the hammer up a bit, tears rolling down her cheeks. Turning, she grabbed a wrench instead, still viewing the body Parker was using as her sister. A hammer would do far more damage. She hit your head 4 times, and there was no sign it had any effect.
With no effort, he pulled the wrench from her hands, tossing it to the side. Y/S/N grabbed the closest thing to her- a metal rack, and tipped it over, trying to put distance between the two. She stood in front of where Chris was currently sleeping, wanting to protect her son at all costs. Parker grabbed her arm, and threw her down, her body rolling on the ground.
His eyes turned towards Chris.
Crowley growled lightly as he slammed his hand against the door. “This isn’t bloody helping.” He muttered to himself. Pulling against the handle, he felt himself being watched. The slamming slowed, eventually stopping as he turned his head to the left. There, in the fog, stood the same boy that had just been at the mercy of his vile mother. Moving over, he crouched. “Parker, help me destroy the memories of her.” It wasn’t a request, either. His tone was firm, but not cruel like hers had been. “It will set you free.” Crowley added, knowing that no one did anything without there being something in it for them. “Let me in. Open the door.” His dark eyes locked on Parker’s, searching for a clue as to what the boy was thinking.
Every time you pulled a sheet down, your heart rate increased, ever so slightly. One, after another. Finally, the sheet that you gripped, and pulled down, revealed the face of the cruel mother. Her blue eyes were ghost like, even for this place. Her skin more like wax than anything you’d ever seen.
All at once, her mouth opened in a scream, her thin hands surrounding your throat. She pushed against you, moving you back the way that you’d come. Your back hit the wall with a sick ‘thud’, knocking the wind from your already straining lungs.
Dean slammed against Parker, pushing him against the bookshelf he was by. In an instant, Parker fought back. A punch to the gut to start it off, his left hand on Dean’s throat. Another to the ribs forced him to the ground.
“Little girl’s need to learn to be good.” She told you, choking the life from your weak body.
Smirking, Parker gripped the end of the near by hammer, and pulled it off the milk crate on which it had been resting. His sights were set on the sleeping form of Chris.
A satisfied smile was on her face as your feet lifted from the ground. Her laugh was almost a snarl. Or was her snarl almost a laugh? Either way, it was disturbing how much joy she was getting from this.
With both hands around the handle, Parker pulled it up and back, ready to strike.
Your eyes were growing heavy, your hands still grasping at her wrists, even though you felt hopeless. It’s amazing what the human body will do to stay alive.
Behind the sick woman, Crowley gripped one of the rocking horses, and raised it above his head.
“Nooooooo!” Y/S/N screamed at the sight of Parker ready to kill her son.
In one smooth movement, he struck her, hard, with the wooden toy. Her hands left your throat, her body falling to the ground.
Parker screamed in pain, stilling with the hammer above his head.
Crowley stood above her as she rolled to her back. “Bloody wench.” He muttered, bringing the rocking horse down on her once more. Twice. Three times. You lost count.
As he screamed, MIL/N rushed in, pulling the hammer from his grasp. As if his bones were removed, he instantly fell to the ground. Y/S/N ran to Chris’s side, sobbing. “Baby!” MIL/N went to check your body for a pulse, listening to your distraught sister.
Gasping for air, you opened your eyes. There were Crowley, and Pam, side by side. All around you, the walls were eating themselves. “You have to go. Now.” He told you. “Take Pam.”
She looked at him oddly. “What?”
“You don’t belong here. You’re still alive. You need to go. Now.” He urged.
Pam looked at you. “I’m alive?” She breathed.
“I’ll see you on the other side, pet.” With a smirk, and a wink, he left you staring at Pam. “GO, NOW!” His voice echoed around you, a final warning to get the hell out. Turning, you led Pam back to the red door, moving as quick as you dared.
Just as you were about to reach it, you were surrounded by darkness. Whispered in the black reached your ears, voices from things that you’d become used to hearing, but had never stopped being frightened of. Turning, they rushed towards you, screaming, and reaching.
Everywhere you turned, there they were. “Get away!” You yelled, trying to keep your voice steady. The sounds were starting to remind you more and more of animals, and less of the remnants of humans.
“Aunt Y/N!” You heard your nephew’s voice in the dark calling out to you.
Panting, you turned towards it. “Chris?!” Running forward, you wanted to scoop him up, and get him back. “Chris?!”
“Aunt Y/N!” He called back, sounding closer this time.
“Where are you, kiddo?”
“Aunt Y/N!” Moments later, he was in your arms, and you could feel the emotions rushing over you. Good and bad alike.
Kneeling, you kissed his forehead. “Oh, my little man. What are you doing here?”
“I came to bring you home!” Chris told you proudly.
You furrowed your brows. “How did you find me?”
“I followed your steps.”
You could hear your sister’s voice, begging Chris to come back. The tears were evident, and your heart was breaking for her.
Chris gasped as he woke up, clinging to Y/S/N. Both watched you, nervous as you sat up, gasping for air. She held him close to her chest, not wanting to ever let go. You put the heels of your hands on your temples, feeling like you had a splitting headache. Groaning, you let your head fall back, your eyes staying shut.
Slowly, you looked over to your sister and nephew. Your heart sank and she recoiled slightly, pulling Chris closer.
With tear filled eyes, you nodded. “It’s me, sis.” You breathed. “Y/S/N…it’s really me.”
Chris’s eyes lit up. “Aunt Y/N!” He moved from your sister’s arms, towards you.
“Aunt Y/N! You’re back!” His arms wrapped around your neck, and you held him tight, having missed him more than he’d ever know.
As you hugged him, you looked towards where your sister was still sitting. “Sis, it’s okay. It’s me.” You told her. “I tried reaching you. I tried everything. I-I played your song.”
Finally, she crawled to where you sat, holding Chris. “I should have known it was you.” She said softly. “Only you could play it that badly.” Both of you laughed, relieved to see each other once again.
As you, Chris, your sister, and MIL/N enjoyed the bonding moment, Sam came busting through the hole in the wall. Your sister screamed, and you all looked over. “Ah! Bring it!” Sam was in a fighting stance, facing away from you.
You sat with Chris and Y/S/N on the couch, Pam across from you. “Are you ready?”
“Ready.” You nodded, agreeing with her. “Ready to forget. Once and for all.” You sighed, never wanting to think of this nightmare again. “No more traveling, okay?” You glanced down at Chris, then at Pam. “This is the only world we want to be in.”
“Good. So, then, close your eyes.” She began, as you and Chris did as asked. “Now, take a deep breath, and just listen to the ticking. Feel yourselves getting sleepier, sleepier, and letting the darkness drift. Further and further away.”
Sam and Dean pulled up in front of a simple house, that looked like a nice home. Dean knocked, hands in his pockets. “Who is it?” Came a male’s voice from the other side.
“Uh, we have a message. It’s about…Allison.”
The door slowly opened, revealing an unhappy looking man. “Is this some kind of joke?”
“We have a close, personal friend, who has, uh, spoken, with Allison.” Sam spoke up.
“That’s not possible.” He glared. “You better leave now, or I’m calling the police.” He threatened.
A woman came out with a young girl, looking between them. “Uh, who are you guys?”
“We help people who have bee–”
“Who’s the lady?” The little girl asked, cutting Dean off.
“What lady, honey?” The woman looked at her, confused.
“The lady standing behind them.”
With a smirk, Missouri covered her lips and moved forward. She’d stumbled upon the boys by mistake, and stuck with them since. It wasn’t too long after they’d help you and your family out.
Dean started again. “Our friend, told us, to tell you that Allison’s accident- was no accident.” He told them.
Missouri moved to stand in front of Allison, who was looking out the window. She bent at the waist, a kind look on her face. “Allison?” She said softly. “Allison…” A creaking noise caught her attention, turning her gaze from the unresponsive Allison. Standing slowly, she looked towards the corner, a horrified look on her face. “Oh, my God.” She breathed.