Supernatural Season 3: After Bad Day at Black Rock

Criminal Minds Season 3: After Children of the Dark

Freaky Friday


The Switcheroo

The most beautiful experience we can have is the mysterious

-Albert Einstein

"How many people live here again?" J.J. asked, looking down the road at the "town". A small general store stood to their right, on the verge of closing by the poor economic times. As was nearly every other building in the place. She was amazed the place was still standing.

"Nine hundred and ninety-three." Spencer said, not sure where the information came from. J.J. nodded.

"How does the population divvy up?"

"There are six hundred and three males, six hundred and twenty six females." He said. He had learned that from the police file he had read on the plane.

"How do you hold that much in your head, kid?" Morgan asked, shaking his head.

"The explanation for that is far too long. I'd need a few days to give you the whole thing." Spencer said.

"The last murder here was in '99," Hotch said. "And that was a group of gay bashers."

"This is about race," Rossi said. "So they aren't related."

"So far, three black men and three Hispanic women had been killed," Hotch said. "The last woman was Maria Hidalgo. She was the owner of the town museum."

"What the hell do you look at in a museum in a town this size?" Morgan asked. Prentice grinned.

"Agent Hotchner?" A voice behind them asked. They turned. An older man in a cowboy hat stood behind them, his beer gut sticking out heavily over his belt, crushing the gun at his hip. "I'm Sheriff Jeremiah Finch," He said shaking Hotch's hand. Spencer winced. "Follow me."

They walked into the small museum, looking around at the artifacts within it. Spencer walked over to the shelves, eager to learn anything he could about this town he didn't already know.

"Maria owned this place. Betty Hollis sold it to her last year when she moved up to Montgomery," Finch explained. "Mrs. McGill up the street thought she heard some commotion and came down. When she did Maria was dead and there was no sign of nobody."

"Did the local police find anything?" Rossi asked.

"Nope," Finch said. "Not a damn thing, Suh. It was like the person who did it up and disappeared." Hotch nodded.

"What's this?" Spencer asked from across the room, pointing into a shelf. Finch stood on his toes to get a better look.

"Ah, that's the mirror that belonged to Mrs. Elizabeth Rehobeth. She was married to the man that founded the town. She got it from a fella that came down from Europe. Said if she wasn't careful, bad things could happen with it." He said. Spencer nodded and stared into the mirror.

"This inscription's in Latin," He mumbled. "Abeo existo tu. Change becomes you." Finch chuckled.

"Ya know, you're the second fella to come in here today that could read it." He said. Spencer's brow furrowed.

"Who was the other man?" He asked.

"A Marshall that came in from outta town. He asked about the murders too. He and his partner." Finch said.

"What were their names?" Hotch asked.

"Uh…Lennon and Bonham ." He said. Spencer bit his lip and looked at Hotch.

"Sheriff, those weren't real Marshalls." Hotch stated.

"Huh?" Finch said.

"We would have known if Marshalls were going to be here before us." He explained.

"And I doubt John Lennon and John Bonham were in this museum." Spencer said. Finch shook his head.

"Then who the hell were they?"

"And who the hell are you?" Sheriff Finch asked.

"Federal Marshalls," Dean said. "I'm Deputy Marshall Bonham and this is my partner Deputy Marshall Lennon." Finch nodded.

"You boys here about the murders?" He asked.

"Yes," Sam said. "We needed to ask you a few questions."


"Have you noticed anything strange lately? Like things that shouldn't be there or strange people anywhere?" Sam asked.

"Nope. Nothin' like that." Finch said.

"Has anybody in town been mentioning anything along those lines? Bringing up old ghost stories, something like that?" Dean asked, looking around the small museum.

"Not any more than usual. The size of this town should speak for itself. And considering the history it has, ghost stories are bound to happen." Finch said.

"What do you mean 'history'?" Sam asked. Finch chuckled.

"Long time ago this whole town was nothin' but a plantation. Only people that lived here were Joseph Rehobeth, his wife Elizabeth, their two sons and their wives, and their slaves. Place made cotton like no other. Was one of the richest plantations in the south."

"What happened?" Sam said.

"Joseph got word that Elizabeth was sleepin' 'round with one of the slaves. He got real pissed off and went to confront her about it. They got in this huge fight and he ended up killin' her and every slave that worked there. Legend says she died right in front of that there mirror." Finch pointed to a glass case. Dean looked inside.

"Abeo existo tu," He whispered. "What the hell does that mean?"

"What happened after that?" Sam asked, glancing at the case.

"Joseph went crazy. He took off into the swamp down by their house and no one saw him again. His sons moved up north and the plantation died." Finch said.

"Is the house they lived in still standing?" Dean asked.

"Nobody's touched it since 1842," He said. "Town's been raisin' money lately to try and get it restored, but that's a slow process."

"Thank you for your time." Sam said, nodding politely.

"We'll be in touch." Dean said, following his brother out of the small museum. That's when the black, official looking SUVs pulled up. Dean immediately shoved his "badge" into his pocket and gestured for Sam to follow suit. They walked down the street, praying that no one would call out to them.

"I bet their badges are real." Dean mumbled.

"What was your first clue?" Sam said. "The SUV or the guns out in the open?" Dean glanced over his shoulder.

"I dunno, but that kid doesn't look like he even knows where the safety is." He snickered. Sam nodded.

"Maybe the FBI academy got easier." Sam suggested.

"So, do you want to go look at this house?" Dean asked. Sam shook his head.

"It's getting late, let's go tomorrow." He said. Dean grinned.

"Good, I'm starving." He said, heading for the diner. Sam sighed.

"When are you not starving?"

"How the hell did that man get into law enforcement?" Morgan asked angrily. "No car, no description, nothing."

"He's kind of old, Morgan." Prentice defended.

"It's still annoying." He grumbled. Spencer smiled.

"I still can't believe the hotel in Rehobeth was so bad we had to leave town." He said.

"It was literally a no star hotel, Spence." J.J. said.

"I don't care if we were sleeping outside, I'm bushed." Morgan said, walking into the hotel.

"Didn't he sleep for two hours on the plane?" Emily whispered to Spencer.

"Mm-hm." He said. Prentice laughed and walked into the hotel as well. Spencer followed, also eager to get to sleep.

Dean woke up the next morning and had no idea where he was. He looked around the large room, deeply confused. And Sam was nowhere in sight. He stood, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and looking around for his phone.

"C'mon, damn it." He muttered. He walked into the bathroom, planning to splash cold water in his face to wake him up faster. He needed to be able to think clearer.

Someone moved in the mirror, and it wasn't him. He looked up, fists clenched, body tense and ready to beat the shit out of the first thing he saw. And what he saw made his jaw drop in horror. Big brown eyes stared back at him. Wavy light brown hair nearly fell to his shoulders. And this skinny body moved when he did.

"Oh my god I'm twelve!"

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