#01x17

Instead of telling the boys what you knew, you dragged them out of the hotel room and just told Dean to drive to the record store. You don’t know how you didn’t figure it out earlier, maybe because you were thinking of supernatural meanings behind the symbol but that wasn’t the case. 

Craig was leaving the register counter when you all walked in and Dean called out to greet him, “hey Craig, remember us?”  

You could have sworn you saw his shoulder drop a little. He turned around anyway. “I’m not really in the mood to answer any more of your guys’ questions,” he told you. 

“That’s okay, we’re just here to buy an album,” you say to him. You turn your attention to the rack albums next to you and flip through the same ones you looked through with Dean the first time you came in here until you found the right one. You picked up the Blue Oyster Cult album and tap the symbol that was plastered on the front cover. Dean smirked and you walked toward Craig. 

“You know, we really couldn’t figure out what that symbol was, and then I realized it doesn’t mean anything. It's a logo for Blue Oyster Cult,” you said as you reach where Craig was pretending to organize records. “Are you big into B.O.C, Craig? Or just scaring the crap out of people?” You hold the album face out so Craig can get a look at it. 

Craig took the album and looked at the logo briefly before setting it down. It was made out of cement, with an ancient ruin look to it, but was the same symbol nonetheless. 

“So why don’t you tell us about the house? Without lying through your ass this time?” Dean asked from over your shoulder. 

Craig sighed and then leaned against the rack, crossing his arms over his shoulder and sighing. “Alright, my cousin Dana was on break from TCU. I guess we were just bored. Looking for something to do, so I showed her this abandoned dump I found. We thought it’d be funny if we made it look haunted. Some from some albums, some from Dana’s theology textbooks. Then we found out this guy Murdoch used to live there, so we made up some story to go along with that. They told people, who told other people. And these two guys put it on their stupid website. Everything just took on a life of its own,” he told you. You believed him. He kept going. “I thought it was funny at first, but now that girl is dead. It was just a joke, you know? We made up the whole thing. I swear,” he was pleading now. Pleading for you to believe him. 

The boys exchanged a look and you crossed your arms over your chest, leaning back a little bit on your heels. “Alright,” you said softly. All three of you turned around, leaving Craig alone with his guilt. When you were out of ear shot you said, “if he made it all up, how the hell do you explain Mordechai?” 

Dean left as soon as you arrived back at the hotel. Sam didn’t think much of it, but you followed him outside. “Where are you going?” You asked, slightly out of breath from chasing him outside. 

“Just to the store, I’ll be back fast,” Dean said, his hand on the door handle of the Impala. “Don’t you want alone time with Sammy anyway?” He raised an eyebrow slightly and a smirk grew on his face. Yours got red hot. 

“I just don’t like that you keep leaving,” you tell him. His shoulders sag and he nods his head for you to come around to his side of the car. You do and he wraps his arm around your shoulders. “I’m sorry.” 

“You know it’s prank season and I can’t give up all my secrets,” he winked down at you and you laughed, getting the hint. “You can come with if you want,” he offered but you shook your head. 

“I’ll keep Sam busy,” you promised before going back into the hotel room. Sam was at the table that overlooked the window to the parking lot, his laptop open. He looked over the top of it at you as you walked in, shutting the door by leaning back against it. 

“What was that about?” He asked. You smiled and shook your head.

“Nothing,” you said. “It’s nothing.” You wanted to keep Dean’s secret, which was hard when Sam gave you the puppy dog eyes he was really good at and smiled like he was looking at you for the first time. “Come here,” you told him. 

He did, shutting the laptop as he stood up. He towered over you, a grin plastered to his face and he kissed you. You can still taste yourself on his lips from last night. Your body tingled where his hands had been, begging for more of his touch. You did promise you’d keep Sam busy. 

You heard Dean come in while you were in the bathroom with Sam. You wanted to wash away all the sweat but knew you probably didn’t have much time. You got out first, brushing your hair in the foggy mirror with the towel wrapped around your body as Sam finished in the shower. “Where have you been?” Sam called out when he heard the door shut. You probably should be more worried about Dean finding you both half-naked in the bathroom, but you realized you didn’t really care. 

“Oh, I went out,” Dean called back. Sam shut off the water and you handed him the extra towel hanging on the door. He wrapped it around his waist. 

“So, we were thinking about a theory about what’s going on,” Sam yelled. You two did talk about a theory. After you rolled around in bed for a little bit. Sam was looking online for theories when you came back in and when he wasn’t kissing you, he was telling you about them. “What if Mordechai is a Tulpa?” 

“Tulpa?” Dean asked. Sam pulled open the bathroom door and you followed him out. Dean turned around quickly at the sound of the door opening, suspicion was written across his face but Sam didn’t seem to notice. 

“Yeah, a Tibetan thought-form,” you said from behind Sam. Dean looked at you and then at his brother and smirked. He didn’t say anything. 

“Yeah, I know what a Tulpa is,” Dean said. He scratched the back of his head and sounded rushed. You thought maybe you almost caught him playing his prank on Sam, but you didn’t know what it could possibly be. You stepped around Sam and started digging through the drawers to find your clothes when Dean slipped past Sam, telling him to get dressed before disappearing into the steamy bathroom. 

“He’s being weird,” you said. Sam nodded in agreement but he got dressed anyway and once Dean was showered and ready, you all went out to eat. 

The entire drive to the diner and while you waited for your food, Sam was pulling at his pants and trying not to itch. “What’s your problem?” You whispered as he grabbed your milkshakes and walked toward the tables. 

“Nothing,” Sam shut you down and you glanced back at Dean, who was trying not the laugh. 

“Okay, keep going about the Tulpa’s,” Dean said. You picked a high-top table and sat between the boys, stirring your chocolate milkshake. Sam pulled his laptop out and onto the table and started talking. 

“So there was an incident in Tibet in 1915, a group of Monks visualize a golem in their heads. They mediate on it so hard, that they bring the thing to life out of thin air,” Sam explained. 

“So?” Dean said, taking a sip of his coffee. 

“That was 20 Monks, Dean. Imagine 10,000 web servers,” you said. Dean looked over at you and nodded understandably. “Craig starts the story about Mordechai, then it spreads and goes online. Now countless people all believe in this bastard.” 

“You’re trying to tell me that just because people believe in Mordechai, he’s real?” 

Sam looked uncomfortable and he shrugged. “I don’t know, maybe.” 

With Dean putting it like that, you started to doubt yourself, too. 

“People believe in Santa Clause, how come I’m not getting hooked up every Christmas?” Dean asked, pushing his point in even further. 

“Because you’re a bad person” you dig, bumping your shoulder against his. 

Sam was typing away at his computer, his focus eyebrows are on. “And because of this,” he said and turned his computer toward Dean. “That’s a Tibetan spirit signal on the wall of the house,” Sam said. “Craig said they painted symbols from a theology textbook, I bet you they painted this without knowing what it was. That sigil has been used for centuries, concentrating meditative thoughts like a magnifying glass. So people are on the hellhounds website, staring at the symbol and thinking about Mordechai. I mean, I don’t know, but it might be enough to bring a Tulpa to life.” 

“That would explain why it keeps changing,” Dean said, taking a sip of his coffee and turning the idea over in his head. 

“People think different things, so Mordechai himself changes, like a game of telephone,” you added, stirring your milkshake and then drinking it. “That would also explain why the rock salt didn’t work.”

“Yeah, cause he’s not a traditional spirit per se,” Dean said and then suggested, “so why don’t we just scrub the sigil thing off the wall and off the website?” Sam shifted in his seat like he was trying to itch again and you tried to look like you didn’t notice. He looked so uncomfortable, it was hard not to laugh.

“It’s not that simple, once Tulpa’s are created, they take on a life of their own,” Sam said. 

“Great. So if he really is a thought form, how the hell are supposed to kill an idea?” Dean asked, rubbing his hand over his mouth like he did was he was stressed. 

“Well, it’s not gonna be easy with these guys helping up. Check out their homepage,” Sam said and then clicked a few buttons on his laptop until the hellhounds website came up. There was a video of them at the house playing as soon as you cicked on. “Since this was posted, the views have quadrupled in the last day alone.” 

You thought for a minute. Sam itched for a minute. Dean tapped his chin. “I have an idea,” you announced and stood up before the boys could respond. Sam quickly shut the laptop and stood up after you. 

“Where are we going?” 

“A copy store,” you told them. If spreading information changes a Tulpa, then spreading information must be able to destroy it, too. 

As you walked away, Sam scrambled to shove his computer in his bag and he grumbled, “I think I’m allergic to our soap or something.” Dean chuckled and winked at you. “You did this?” Dean laughed harder as he kept walking and Sam’s panic made you laugh, too. “You’re a freaking jerk! Did you know about this?” Sam asked you as you hung back to wait for him. You frantically shook your head, but you couldn’t help but still laugh. The table shook as he grabbed his bag off of it and stormed past you, trying to catch up with his brother in a fit of rage. 

“Oh, come on Sam!” You called after him and jogged to catch up. 

At the copy store, you made a fake copy of a fake death certificate of Mordechai Murdoch. If you can get the narrative around Mordechai to change, maybe you can get him to go away for good. But, there were only two people that could help you do that. Both of which, you found in a trailer park. Dean rapped on the door of the trailer and waited for Ed and Harry to come out. “Look at that, action figures in their original packaging. What a shocker,” Dean teased and laughed at himself. 

“We need to talk,” you start on a real note. They both look at you with skepticism but then Harry steps forward with all his fake confidence and exits the trailer. 

“Yeah, sorry guys, we’re a little bit busy right now.” 

“We’ll make it quick,” Dean said. “We need you to shut down your website.” Harry laughed at Dean as if you guys were kidding. 

“These guys get us busted last night, we spend the night in a holding cell,” Harry started talking to Ed, who interrupted him to tell us that he had to pee in front of other people in that holding cell. “Why should we trust you guys?” 

“We all know what we saw in that house last night, but now, thanks to your website, there are thousands of people hearing about Mordechai,” you told them. 

“Which means people are gonna keep showing up and running into him. Somebody could get hurt,” Dean explained. Part of your plan was to make the boys think you needed them for something. Something other than changing the story. So, you pleaded for their help. 

They quickly shut down the idea. “We have an obligation to our fans, to the truth.”

“I have an obligation to kick both of your--”

You elbow Dean in the side, making him shut up. “Alright, Dean, that’s enough,” Sam spoke up. “These guys, you could probably bitch slap both of them. I could probably even tell them that thing about Mordechai but they still won’t help us.”

You nod in agreement and turn to walk away with the boys and as planned, Ed and Harry follow after you. “Wait a second,” they call out. “What thing about Mordechai?” 

“Tell them, Sam,” you prompt as you continued to walk away. 

“But if they agree to shut down the website-” 

“They’re not gonna do it, you said so yourself,” Dean interrupted. You finally reach the Impala and turn around to face the Hellhound boys. 

“We’ll do it, okay? Tell us,” they beg. 

“It’s a secret,” Dean said to Sam. 

You threw your hands up at Ed and Harry and said, “it’s a really big deal. It wasn’t easy to dig up, so only if we have your word that you’ll shut everything down.” You tried to strike a deal. 

“Totally,” they agreed. Dean sighed as if he was hesitant to show the boys the fake death certificate you made but he pulled it out of his jacket pocket anyway and unfolded it. 

“It’s a death certificate from the 30’s. According to the coroner, the actual cause of death was a self-inflicted gunshot wound,” Sam explained. 

“That’s right, he didn’t cut himself or hang himself,” you said. As Ed and Harry looked at the certificate, they eyed you three hesitantly. 

“He shot himself?” Ed asked. His face went white. 

“Yup, with a .45 pistol,” Sam said. Harry looked a little less convinced, but Ed’s eyes were wide with fear. “To this day, they say he’s terrified of them.” 

“As a matter of fact, they said if you shoot him with a .45 loaded with these special wrought-iron rounds, you’d kill the son of a bitch,” Dean said. That was the story you made up in the car on the way to the copy shop. You figured it was an easy way to kill him and if the boys put it on their website for everyone to see, it just might actually work long enough to kill him. 

The boys laugh and before either of them can reply, Ed started running toward the trailer with the death certificate in hand. You smiled up at the brothers smugly and Dean rolled his eyes. “Don’t get cocky, it was a good idea.” 

You went to wait at a diner for the hellhounds website to get updated. Since all Dean got at the last one was a coffee, he was starving. You were sandwiched between the younger brother and the wall that had those creepy mounted fish all over them. At your table, there was a ventriloquist doll holding a fish mounted to a board. Dean pulled the string that was attached to it, and much like the singing and dancing fish, the doll cackled and danced. He had been pulling it almost the entire time you had been sitting there and this last time, Sam shut it off almost as quickly as Dean had turned it on. “If you pull that string one more time, I’m gonna kill you,” he threatened. 

As soon as Sam turned away to look back at his computer, Dean pulled the string like a little boy disobeying his mother and Sam, which is cat-like reflects, shut it off before it barely made a sound. You had to laugh at the older boy, especially when he was laughing, too. 

“Come on, man. You need more laughter in your life,” Dean said. Sam picked up his beer and took a drink from it, ignoring his brother. 

“You are way too tense sometimes,” you added. Which, judging by the glare Sam gave you, was not the right thing to say. You exchanged a look with Dean and to change the subject, he asked if there was an update on the website yet. 

Instead of replying, Sam turned his computer around for Dean to see. You already could see it from sitting next to Sam, although you didn’t read it. As Dean read the article out loud, Sam shoved his fork into the food that the two of you were sharing. 

“So how long do we wait?” Dean asked. 

“Long enough for it to spread and the legend to change. I figure by nightfall, iron rounds will work on the sucker.” Dean nodded in approval and picked up his beer to cheers with his brother. You didn’t have one, but you threw up your glass of water and as soon as Dean took a sip, Sam busted out in laughter. 

You looked at him and then back to Dean, who had the beer bottle stuck to his hand. “You didn’t,” he said through his gritted teeth. 

Sam laughed, holding up a tube of super glue he must have used when you and Dean went to the bathroom earlier. “Oh, I did.” You laughed, too. Grateful you weren’t in the middle of the pranks. In solidarity of Sam’s laughter, you pulled the string on the doll. 

To distract the cops that now lived outside of the Hel House, you and Sam ripped the doll off the wall while Dean tried to rip the beer out of his hand. You shoved the doll in a tree and pulled the string. It played long enough for the cops to hear it and start walking toward the noise, giving you a chance to go inside of the house. 

Dean was having a hard time holding his gun, so he held it with one hand and shook the other to shake away the pain. “I barely have enough skin on the palm on my hand,” he grumbled, not finding Sam’s prank funny. It took a while to get the glue off his hand. And a lot of crying from an old man. 

“I’m not touching that line with a 10-foot pole,” you comment. Dean shined his flashlight in your face and you just smiled back. You cleared the house while making your way to the door that lead to the room where you found Mordechai last time, thinking that was your best shot at finding him. “You think he’s home?” You asked as the three of you stand in front of the door. 

“I don’t know,” Dean replied. From behind you, another voice agreed with Dean causing all three of you to jump and quickly turn around, ready to shoot at whatever it was.

It was just Ed and Harry, who each yelled their own profanities as you aimed your guns at them. “Are you trying to get yourself killed?” Dean yelled at them. 

They had all their camera and light gear attached to their bodies and their hands were up in surrender. “We’re just trying to get a book and movie deal,” Ed said. 

You start to hear scraping coming from the other side of the door, taking everyone’s attention away. Your guns were up again and you sandwiched yourself between the brothers with Ed and Harry behind you, recording every second. The scraping sounded almost like knives sharpening. 

“You guys wanna open that door for us?” Harry asked, fear laced in his voice. 

“Why don’t you?” You suggested. Your voice is unwavering compared to his. Neither of you had to open the door because Mordechai busted through it with an axe not even a second later. There was no hesitation before all three guns started shooting at the thing. Ed and Harry ducked from behind you, but you just kept shooting with the boys until the spirit disappeared in black smoke. You weren’t positive he was gone for good, so you split up from Sam and Dean to check the rest of the house. 

You were only in the next room over, so you could hear Ed and Harry talking to each other and then a crash. You ran back in the room, Sam and Dean closely behind, to find the camera smashed on the ground. “Didn’t you guys post that BS story we gave you?” Dean snapped, knowing that the guns didn’t get rid of the spirit entirely. 

“Of course we did, but then the server crashed.” 

“So these guns don’t work?” You asked, your hands starting to shake. The boys just shook their head and you looked across the room at Sam. “Any ideas?” 

“We’re getting out of here,” Harry said, grabbing Ed by the jacket and pulling him out of the room and past Dean. You let your hands drop to your side and your shoulders fell in disappointment. Now what? You thought. 

You didn’t have much time to think of another solution until Ed and Harry started screaming. Mordechai was back, so you had to think of something quick but Sam just started running toward it. “Sam, no!” You called out but he kept going anyway. You started to run but Dean grabbed your hand. “What the hell are you doing?” 

“We need to get rid of this thing while Sam is distracting him,” he told you. His grip on your hand was tight but you managed to pull away from him. 

“You do it,” you snapped, turning away from Dean. You could hear him sighing but also immediately getting to work.

“Come and get it, you ugly son of a bitch,” Sam yelled from the hallway. They were grunting and walls were being slammed into and when you got there, the ghost of Mordechai had Sam pinned to the wall and he was yelling at the hellhound boys to leave. They zipped past you, making your hair brush out of your face. 

Sam was being held up by Mordechai’s ax. The air was leaving his lungs and his breathing was cut off. You could see his face turning a deep red, but you had almost frozen. All you could feel was your pulse racing. The heat in your cheeks getting hotter and hotter and the palms of your hand sweating and then the floor around Mordechai’s body went up in flames. 

The ghost disappeared and your pulse softened and you ran to Sam, who had fallen limp to the ground. He was coughing, trying to catch his breath and when you reached him, the fire dissipated. “Are you okay?” You asked, brushing the hair out of his face with your hands and checking his body over. He nodded and you helped him up. “We gotta get out of here,” you said. Sam nodded and wrapped his arm around your shoulders to steady himself until he was able to breathe properly on his own. 

“What happened?” Dean asked as he came around the corner. The wooden floor was blackened and you and Sam both were trying to catch your breath so no one replied. “Doesn’t matter, let’s go.” You both followed Dean toward the front door where he stopped and held up a lighter. “If Mordechai can’t leave the house and we can’t kill him. We need to improvise,” he said, throwing the lighter into the living room causing the whole thing to go up in flames. He must have been drowning the wood in gas while you were with Sam. You didn’t wait for the fire to get bigger, you just turned around and ran as fast as you could away from the house. 

When you reached the bushes that you had hidden in multiple times before, you all stopped and looked. Mordechai was in the doorway, getting engulfed in flames. “That’s your solution? Burn the whole house to the ground?” Sam yelled, looking at his older brother. 

“At least no one will go in it anymore,” you said, shrugging your shoulders. Sam’s brows were furrowed like they always did when he was mad, frustrated, or confused. He shot a glare at you and you shrunk behind Dean. 

“Mordechai can’t haunt a house that’s not standing. It’s fast and dirty but it works,” Dean said. 

“What if the legend changes again and he is allowed to leave the house?” 

Dean looked down at you like that thought never once occurred to him. “Well then we’ll just have to come back,” he suggested. You nodded like it was a sound solution but deep down you knew Sam was probably right. But, you also figured that the chances of the legend changing are probably slim.