This is based off Season 1, episode 5: Bloody Mary. I just started re-watching Supernatural, and decided to write this. Trigger warning for Self-harm and Suicidal thoughts. Sorry guys, I know all my stories are basically the same haha.

"Jess..."

Dean looked over at his younger brother sleeping on the motel bed, concerned. Another nightmare. The poor kid hadn't gotten a good night's sleep since Jessica had died. Sammy refused to talk about it. He insisted that he was fine. But Dean knew better. Sam wasn't eating, wasn't sleeping, and the most concerning thing; he was just...different. Dean had always been the reckless one. But now it was Sammy who was rushing into things without thinking. Putting both of them in danger.

"Hey, Sammy, wake up." Dean walked over to the bed and shook his brother's shoulders.

"Wha-?" Sam awoke with a start and looked at Dean, confused for a moment before he remembered where they were. "Oh, sorry," He sat up and rubbed his eyes. "Why did you let me fall asleep?"

"Cause I'm an awesome brother," Dean tried to hide his concern with humor. "Seriously though, you were having another nightmare. At some point we're gonna have to talk about this."

"You're the one that said no chick-flick moments, jerk."

"Bitch," Dean replied, completing their inside joke.

"What do you have on Bloody Mary?" Sam asked, looking over at the motel table covered in case files.

Dean sighed with frustration. "As much as I hate to say it, I miss the internet. Going through these one-by-one is sucking my soul. But I think I found something." He reached over and grabbed a file. "Mary Worthington, murdered in her apartment in Fort Wayne, Indiana. In front of a mirror. And her eyes were cut out."

"Geez," Sam looked at the crime scene photos with disgust. "Could be our ghost, but Fort Wayne is a long way from Toledo. What would she be doing here?"

Dean shrugged. "Got me." Suddenly his phone rang. "Hello?" It was Charlee, a friend of the first victim's daughter. She was in a panic. "Hold on, I'm gonna put you on speaker. Try to calm down."

"Sam, Dean...Jill is dead," The frightened girl said between sobs.

Ten minutes later they were in front of Jill's house.

"Charlee," Dean found her on the steps, crying into her hands. She looked up when she heard his voice.

"She's dead..." Charlee whispered. "She said it. I told her not too, but she said it anyway!"

"Said what?" Sam asked.

"You know...Bloody..." She couldn't bring herself to finish the sentence. "She said it in front of the mirror, she was trying to make fun of me, prove it was just a joke."

"Hey, hey, we're gonna figure out what's going on here." Dean awkwardly patted her shoulder. "But we could use your help."

Later that night, Charlee let the boy's into Jill's house. They made their way up to her room, where Dean carefully removed the mirror from the wall. They shined a black light on the back, and found a name.

"Gary Bryman?" Charlee repeated the name in shock.

"You know who that is?" Sam and Dean exchanged a glance.

"He...was a little boy killed in a hit-and-run last year." She said, looking guilty.

"You know who the driver was, don't you?" Sam asked her.

She looked down.

"Hey, it's okay. We're not gonna tell anyone." Dean reassured her.

"It was Jill." Charlee said quietly. "She made me swear not to tell anyone..."

This was beginning to make sense.

Within a half-hour, the brothers had broken into the Shoemaker home, and quietly removed the bathroom mirror. They shined the black light on the back, and sure enough, there was another name: Linda Shoemaker.

"The victim's wife?" Sam asked, surprised. "The police report said she overdosed on sleeping pills."

"What do you wanna bet that her husband forced those pills down her throat, eh?"

"Okay, so we have a vengeful spirit. She's killing people who were involved in accidental, or not-so-accidental deaths that were kept a secret. But that still doesn't explain how she got from Fort Wayne to Toledo, Ohio."

"Let's make a few calls."

"That's a shame, Mr. Worthington, I would've paid good money for that mirror. Thanks for your time." Sam hung up the phone. "I have our link. Mary's brother sold the mirror to a pawn shop last week. A pawn shop in Toledo."

"Bingo. Now we gotta figure out how to destroy it. My guess is that her spirit is trapped in there. Mirrors are said to be able to entrap the souls of the dead."

"Let's go to the pawn shop tonight. We'll summon her and then smash the mirror."

"Sounds too easy." Dean scoffed. "And besides, how are we gonna summon her? You got any secrets?"

Sam looked down. "Maybe."

Dean shook his head. "Alright, that's it." He pulled the car over to the side of the road."

"What are you doing?"

"This is about Jessica, isn't it? Sammy, it wasn't your fault."

"You don't know everything." His younger brother stated quietly.

"Oh yeah? Then tell me. What am I missing?"

"If I told you, it wouldn't be a secret."

"I am not using you as bait." Dean said firmly.

"Please, you have to let me do this." Sam's voice had a hint of desperation.

"Fine," Dean sighed. "But I'm not leaving you alone, got it? No suicide mission crap, okay?"

Dean was only half-joking. At this point he had no idea what Sam's mental state was, but it was far from healthy. He doubted his brother would go as far as to take his own life, but with how reckless Sammy was being, it was likely that his brother didn't care if he lived or died.

"Alright, I'm fine. I may be out of practice, but I'm still a good hunter. You can quit treating me like I'm 10, Dean. I know what I'm doing."

Sam quickly tried to steer the conversation away from the topic of suicide. He wasn't about to admit to Dean that he was hoping to be killed on a hunt so he wouldn't have to end it himself. At first he had been completely obsessed with revenge. He needed to find Jessica's killer. But then the depression and reality of the situation sunk in. Dad had been hunting this son-of-a-bitch for 20 years, with no luck. Maybe it just couldn't be caught. Maybe Sam's best move was to end it all, and hope that he met up with Jess in the afterlife. He wasn't sure what was waiting on the other side, but whatever it was had to be better than the Hell he was living in now. He couldn't take another day without her.

"I know you're a good hunter, Sammy. I'm just worried is all."

"I'm fine." Sam lied.

They drove to the pawn shop in silence, and waited outside until nightfall.

"Are you sure you can do this?" Dean asked again.

"Yes," Sam replied impatiently. "What are we waiting for?"

They picked the lock without trouble, and entered the darkened pawn shop. Sam shined his flashlight around, taking in the layout.

"Let's go find the mirrors."

They wandered through the shop, finding the mirrors near the back. Sam pulled out a copy of the Mary Worthington crime scene photo. "That's the mirror we're looking for." He gestured to a large, intricately decorated mirror. It was hard to miss.

Dean raised the crowbar. "Ready?"

Sam took a deep breath and spoke. "Bloody Mary...Bloody Mary...Bloody Mary."

The brothers looked around, seeing nothing.

Without warning, the air around them seemed to grow heavier. The temperature dropped rapidly, and they could see their breath.

"She's here."

Sam looked into the mirror, but was frozen. He couldn't move. His reflection took on a life of its' own, and he watched in morbid fascination as blood began to drip from his eyes.

"You killed her," His reflection hissed. "You knew all along..." It felt like Sam's chest was imploding. His eyes stung as the blood escaped his tear ducts.

"And the nightmares? You had them for days before she even died, didn't you?" The Sam in the mirror accused. "You knew what was going to happen, and you left her alone anyway! You stupid, stupid boy."

*crash*

Sam's reflection was cut off as Dean's crowbar sliced through the air and smashed the mirror. Sam fell to the ground, and his brother cried out his name, dropping to his knees beside his brother.

"Sammy, are you all right?"

The weight had lifted from his chest, and his eyes no longer cried blood. Sam realized with disappointment that he was still alive.

"Yeah, I'm good." He lied.

"Good. Let's get out of here." Dean helped him to his feet, and they began to walk away.

But then they heard the sound of glass clinking. They turned to see a deformed figure crawling out of the mirror frame. They fell backwards, eyes running red with blood. They heard the creature hissing. Sam was ready to let death overcome him. What a better way to die, than next to his brother?

But his satisfaction was short lived as he heard an angry shriek. He looked over at Dean. The older Winchester was holding up a mirror to face the spirit. She saw her own reflection, and promptly shattered into a mess of broken glass. Dean threw the last remaining mirror into the pile of existing shards.

"Damn." Dean looked at the aisle of fragmented mirrors. "That's gotta be like 600 years of bad luck."

"No kidding." Sam discreetly slipped a shard of glass into his jacket pocket. Tonight he needed a little something extra to get his mind off Jess.

Kind of a short chapter, but hopefully I'll have time to write more tomorrow :) What do you think so far? Any suggestions?