One More Time

36.

"The newspaper said his daughter found him. She said his eyes were bleeding," Sam says.

"More than that. They practically liquified," he admits, pulling back the sheet.

"Any sign of a struggle, maybe somebody did it to him," Dean suggests.

"Nope. Besides the daughter, he was all alone."

"What's the official cause of death," I ask.

"Doc's not sure. He's thinking massive stroke, maybe an aneurysm. Something burst up in there, that's for sure," he replies.

"What do you mean?"

"Intense cerebral bleeding. This guy had more blood in his skull than anyone I've ever seen."

"The eyes-- what would cause something like that," Sam asks.

"Capillaries can burst. See a lot of bloodshot eyes with stroke victims."

"Yeah, you ever see exploding eyeballs," Dean says.

"That's a first for me. But, hey, I'm not the doctor."

"Think we could take a look at that police report? You know, for our paper?"

"I'm not really supposed to show you that," he says. 

I slowly walk toward him, speaking. "Please," I ask. He slowly nods, and I smile.

As we're walking down the steps, Sam speaks. "Might not be one of ours. 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," Dean points out.

"Uh, almost never."

"Exactly."

"All right. Why don't we talk to the daughter," I suggest.

~ ~ ~

We slowly walk into the open door, where I'm assuming they're having a wake for him. "Feel like we're underdressed," Dean comments.

"That's because we are," I say, walking through the house. We head outside, and I spot the daughter. We walk over to them, and Dean speaks.

"You must be Donna, right?"

"Yeah," she nods.

"Hi, uh-- we're really sorry," Sam says.

"Thank you."

"I'm Sam. This is Dean and Callie. We worked with your dad," Sam lies.

"You did?"

"Yeah. This whole thing-- I mean, a stroke."

"I don't think she really wants to talk about this right now," one of her friends says.

"It's okay, I'm okay," Donna assures her.

"Were there ever any symptoms? Dizziness, migraines," I ask.

"No."

The little girl next to her spins around, speaking. "That's because it wasn't a stroke."

"Lily, don't say that."

"What," I ask.

"I'm sorry. She's just upset."

"No, it happened because of me."

"Sweetie, it didn't."

"Lily, why would you say something like that," I ask, kneeling down beside her.

"Right before he died, I said it," she admits.

"You said what?"

"Bloody Mary, three times in the bathroom mirror. She took his eyes, that's what she does," Lily explains.

"That's not why Dad died. This isn't your fault," Donna insists.

"I think your sister's right, Lily. There's no way it could've been Bloody Mary. Your dad didn't say it, did he," Dean points out.

"No, I don't think so."

We head back inside the house and walk upstairs. I walk toward the bathroom, slowly pushing the door open. I notice a blood stain on the floor. "The Bloody Mary legend-- Dad ever find any evidence that it was a real thing," Sam asks.

"Not that I know of," Dean shakes his head, as I flip on the light.

"I mean, everywhere else, all over the country, kids will play Bloody Mary. And as far as we know, nobody dies from it."

"Yeah, well, maybe everywhere else it's just a story, but here, it's actually happening," I say.

"The place where the legend began?" I nod, opening the bathroom mirror. "But according to the legend, the person who says--" Sam shuts the mirror. "The person who says you know what gets it. But here--"

"Shoemaker gets it instead, yeah," I finish.

"Right."

"Never heard of anything like that before," Dean admits. "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 worth checking into," Sam nods.