Don't let it go away
This feeling has got to stay
Don't let it go away
This feeling has got to stay
And I can't believe I've had this chance now
Don't let it go away
New
You're so new
You
You're new
And I've never had this taste in the past
New
You're so new
And all hesitation is gone
And I really gravitate to your will
Oh, you're here to fetch me out
'Cause I've never had this taste in my mouth
…...
Why am I so curious?
This territory is dangerous
I'll probably end up at the start
I'll be back in line with my
Broken heart
No Doubt – New
Dean sat beside me, an arm wrapped around my waist as he leaned into me slightly. I smiled up at him, leaning my head on his shoulder as my eyes drifted across the room. There were a few girls standing at the bar, one blonde in particular that hadn't taken her eyes off Sam since we walked in.
"Alright, I think we got something." Sam muttered, staring down at the map in front of him as he tried to ignore the pretty blonde eying him from bar.
"I think you do." I smirked, nodding over to the girl. Sam narrowed his eyes at me sightly, moving around awkwardly in his seat.
"Come on, Sam. I think you need to take a little shore leave, you know? Just a little bit. What do you think? Want me to talk to her for you?" Dean asked, grinning at his little brother. I shook my head, smacking Dean lightly on the shoulder.
"No thanks, Dean." Sam said, rolling his eyes. "I can get my own dates."
"Yeah, you can – but you don't."
"What is that supposed to mean?" Sam asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Nothing." I mumbled, sharing a look with Dean before turning back to Sam. "What do you have?"
"Mark and Ann Telesca of New Paltz, New York were both found dead in their own home a few days ago. Throats were slit. There were no prints, no murder weapons, all..." Sam let his voice drift out, shooting daggers at Dean. I glanced up to see him staring at a few of the women at the bar.
"Dean!" I called, starling him.
"Sorry." He muttered, shooting me a sheepish look as I narrowed my eyes.
"As I was saying – no prints, no murder weapons, all doors and window locked from the inside." Sam finished.
"Could just be a garden variety murder. You know, not our department." Dean shrugged, taking a swig of his beer.
"No. Dad says different."
"What do you mean?"
"Dad noted three murders in the same area of upstate New York." Sam said, pointing at the map. "First one here in nineteen-twelve, second one right here in nineteen-forty-five, and the third in nineteen-seventy. The same M.O. as the Telescas. Their throats were slit, doors were locked from the inside. Now so much time had passed between murders that nobody checked the pattern, except Dad. He kept his eyes peeled for another one."
"And now we got one. Alright, I'm with you. It's worth checking out." Dean shrugged, glancing over at me before turning back to Sam. "We can't pick this up 'til first thing though, right?"
"Yeah." Sam said.
"Good." Dean smirked, leaning in to press a kiss on my neck.
"Oh, come on..." Sam complained, turning away.
"Hey, you could go have some fun of your own, you know."
Sam let out a low huff, shaking his head. "No thanks. I think I'll just get my own room tonight, figure some of this stuff out."
"Sam-"
"Dean." Sam shot back. My eyes widened as I glanced back and forth between the two boys, watching their silent conversation.
"Okay, how about we go, then?" I asked, smiling at them.
"Yeah, let's go." Dean sighed, shaking his head at his brother as he stood.
I was concerned for Sam. He never let himself relax – ever. And I understood why, I really did, but being this way had to be even harder on him. Sometimes something as simple as laughing seemed to be hard for him, he just looked miserable. The thing that killed me the most was knowing I couldn't really do anything about it.
IMPALA – MORNING
Sam and I approached the Impala, seeing Dean sound asleep in the passenger side, his sunglasses still in place.
"Why is he sleeping?" Sam complained, glancing down at me.
"You really want me to answer that?" I asked, a small smirk on my face as I thought back to the night before. Dean and I had gotten our own room and needless to say, I was a bit sore this morning, but in the best way possible.
Sam thought it over for a moment, realizing what I meant. "Ew. No, thanks."
"Didn't think so." I said. Folding my arms as Sam grinned, leaning in the open window to honk the horn. Dean jumped up, looking around in panic until he realized it was just us.
"Man, that was so not cool." He mumbled, shaking his head as I got into the backseat.
"So, we just swept the Telescas with EMF. It's clean." Sam said, staring the car. "And last night, while you two were...well...busy-"
"Good times." Dean smirked, glancing back at me. I shot him a small smile, looking back over to Sam.
"Well, let's not go into detail." Sam muttered. "Listen, I checked the history of the house. Nothing strange about the Telescas."
"Alright, so if it's not the people and it's not the house, then maybe it's the contents. Cursed object or something." Dean suggested.
"The house is clean." Sam repeated.
"Yeah, I know, you said that."
"No, Dean, it's empty." I said. "No furniture – nothing."
"Where's all their stuff?" Dean asked, glancing between Sam and I.
AUCTION HOUSE – DAY
I walked between the boys, glancing around at all the very expensive looking objects. I had to admit, I felt very out of place in here. This was not a place I'd really like to be in.
"Consignment auctions, estate sales. Looks like a garage sale for Wasps if you ask me." Dean muttered, taking some food off a tray on one of the tables we passed.
"Can I help you?" A man asked, walking up behind us.
Dean shoved more food in his mouth, staring at the man for a moment. "I'd like some champagne, please."
"He's not a waiter." I subtly hit Dean in the back, narrowing my eyes at him. Dean raised an eyebrow, glancing back at the man. Sam held his hand out, a polite smiled on his face.
"I'm Sam Connors." The man stared down at Sam's hand for a moment, not making any move to shake it. Sam let out a small breath, pointing over to Dean and I. That's my brother, Dean and his wife Victoria. We're art dealers with Connors Limited."
Dean let out a small huff at the wife thing, rolling his eyes at his brother. The man stared at us for a long moment, looking each of us up and down with a sneer. "You. Are art dealers."
"That's right."
"I'm Daniel Blake, this is my auction house. Now, this is a private showing, and I don't remember seeing you on the guest list."
"We're there chuckles, you just need to take another look." Dean said, raising his eyebrows as a waiter walked by with a tray of champagne. "Oh. Finally."
Dean took two glasses, handing one to me. I let out a small sigh, reluctantly taking the glass from him. I watched as Dean sniffed the champagne in the glass, raising his eyebrows at Blake before turning away. I heard Sam mumbled something to Blake as I followed after Dean. Just as I walked up to him, he downed the whole glass of champagne.
"Are you serious right now?" I asked.
"What?" Dean asked innocently.
"Nothing." I muttered, handing him my glass. "Take this."
Sam made his way over to us and we continued through the building, eventually drifting to a painting of a family. A man was standing in front of a seated woman, two boys to their right and a little girl holding a doll to their left.
The painting sent a slight chill running down my spine, but I didn't think anything of it. It was a creepy picture.
"A fine example of American Primitive wouldn't you say?" A female voice sounded behind us.
The three of us turned around to see a pretty brunette wearing a tight fitting black dress, making her way down the spiral staircase, a small smile on her face. As she turned her back to walk down the last part of the stairs, I glanced up and Sam and Dean to see him ogling her, their eyes glued to her bare back where her dress plunged. I smacked Dean on the arm, narrowing my eyes at him as he glanced down at me.
I really couldn't argue, though. She was beautiful. I almost had a hard time looking away.
"Well, I'd say it's more Grant Wood than Grandma Moses." Sam shrugged, smirking at her as she stepped in front of us. "But you knew that, you just wanted to see if I did."
I raised an eyebrow, sharing a slightly surprised look with Dean as we watched the interaction between the two, all the while, Dean kept stuffing his face with food from the passing waiter's trays.
"Guilty. And clumsy. I apologize." She nodded, holding out a hand to Sam. "I'm Sarah Blake."
"I'm Sam. This is my...brother, Dean and his wife Victoria." Sam said. Surprisingly, Dean didn't have much of a reaction to Sam saying I was his wife this time, instead just wrapping an arm around my waist as he ate.
I'm sure the food had to do with his lack of a panic attack though.
Sarah and I shared a smile as she looked over at Dean, raising an eyebrow. "Dean, can we get you some more mini-quiche?"
"I'm good, thanks." Dean muttered through the food in his mouth. I elbowed him in the arm, shaking my head in disapproval as he looked down at me.
Sarah caught the interaction, smiling lightly at us as she turned back to Sam. "So, can I help you with something?"
"Yeah, actually." Sam nodded. "What can you tell us about the Telesca estate?"
"The whole thing's pretty grisly if you ask me, selling your things this soon." She sighed. "But Dad's right about one thing, sensationalism brings out the crowds. Even the rich ones."
"Is it possible to see the provenances?"
"I'm afraid there isn't any chance of that." Blake said, walking up behind us again.
"Why not?" I asked.
"You're not on the guest list. And I think it's time to leave."
"Well, we don't have to be told twice." Dean muttered, putting on a posh voice.
"Apparently you do." Blake replied, narrowing his eyes.
"Okay. It's all right. We don't want any trouble, we'll go." Sam said, exchanging a long look with Sarah before walking away. Dean and I watched after him for a moment, the two of us sharing a knowing look before following.
MOTEL – DAY
The sun shined down on us as we walked to the motel room, Dean stepping in front to unlock the door.
"Grant Wood, Grandma Moses?" He asked, glancing back at Sam.
"Art history course." Sam shrugged. It's good for meeting girls."
"It's like I don't even know you." Dean said, opening the door.
The three of us paused we entered, glancing around the very seventies disco themed room. The walls were a strange pattern of black and white, the divider in the room was a bunch of little cut out silver circles and beads.
"Huh." Sam and Dean mumbled in unison.
I rolled my eyes, throwing the bag I was carrying down on the floor as I stepped around them, making my way over to the bed to sit on the foot of it.
"What was...providence?" Dean asked, placing his bag on the floor along with Sam.
"Prov-e-nance." Sam corrected. "It's a certificate of origin, like a biography. You know we can use them to check the history of the pieces, see if any of them have a freaky past."
"Well, we're not getting anything out of chuckles, but Sarah..." Dean trailed off, glancing back at me before turning to Sam with a smirk.
"Yeah, maybe you can get her to write it all down on a cocktail napkin." Sam grinned.
"Not me." Dean said.
"Who then? Tori?" Sam asked, letting out a laugh.
"She was hot." I murmured, smirking up at Dean as he turned to me with wide eyes. I watched as he stared at me for a moment, his eyes glazing over.
"Dean, whatever you're thinking of – stop it." I said.
"Well, don't do that to me, then." Dean mumbled, turning back to his brother. "Come on, Sam."
"No, no. Pick ups are your thing Dean." Sam said, shaking his head.
"Hey, it wasn't his butt she was checking out." I pointed out, standing to my feet as I nudged Dean's arm with my elbow, winking at him. "It was mine."
"Stop it!" Dean exclaimed, sitting down on the foot of the bed with a huff. Sam's expression grew more disturbed as he watched us.
"I'm kidding." I mumbled, a small smile on my face. "Sam, she was totally into you. Trust me, she's not gonna say no."
"In other words, you two want me to use her to get information." Sam muttered.
"Sometimes you gotta take one for the team." Dean shrugged, shooting me a look. "Call her."
"No, I can't."
"Sam, yes you can." I said, placing a hand on his shoulder as he looked to the ground. "Just call her. It can't hurt." The look in his eyes told me exactly what he was thinking.
Yes, it can.
"It'll be okay, Sam." I smiled up at him with an encouraging smile. He nodded, grabbing his phone as he made his way outside to call her.
Sarah had of course accepted Sam's invitation to dinner, just like I knew she would. She seemed like a sweet person, someone I could definitely picture Sam with. He'd only been gone a few minutes when I stood, grabbing a few things out of my bag.
"Where you going?" Dean asked, watching me.
"I'm gonna take a shower." I muttered, making my way to the bathroom. I glanced back, leaning on the door frame as Dean nodded. "Wanna join me?"
Dean jumped up from the bed, gently moving me into the room, pulling off my shirt in the process as he kissed me.
I swear, I'm not sure I've ever seen that boy move so fast.
After our shower, which wasn't filled with very many normal shower activities, Dean and I rested on the bed, his arm wrapped around me as I laid next to him.
"I wish we got more time alone together." Dean mumbled, placing a kiss on top of my head.
"You mean you wish we had more sex." I said, laughing lightly.
"No." Dean said, sounding slightly offended. "I mean, I just wish we could spend more time together. You know, just us. Those few months that Dad left us on our own...it was nice."
"Aw, that's sweet." I muttered, placing a hand on his chest as I rolled over onto my stomach to kiss him. "You're so sweet."
"Okay, okay." Dean complained.. Though I could see in his eyes that he really didn't mind it.
"You scared me for a minute there, because I don't know how we could have more sex. We'd probably die." I teased.
"Probably. But man, what a way to go." Dean murmured, a smiling spreading across his lips while he leaned forward, pressing a kiss on my as I chuckled.
A few moments later, I laid my head on his chest as we parted, letting out a content sigh. "How do you think Sam's little date is going?"
"I don't know. I just hope he doesn't ruin it by being a giant dork."
"Some girls like dorks." I smiled, glancing up at him. "You're a dork and I like you."
"Whoa, I am not a dork." Dean said, his eyes wide.
"You're kind of a dork."
"No way."
"Yes, way." I argued, laughing at his expression. "Nothing wrong with that."
"Alright, let's just…let that go." Dean mumbled, a smirk spreading across his lips after a few moments. "Think he'll be back tonight?"
I rolled my eyes, looking up at him with a grin. "I'm sure he will."
"I just wish he'd...relax more, you know? He's gotta calm down. I mean, why is that so hard?"
"I know." I shrugged. "But a lot is going on right now. I guess maybe that's why."
"If he wants to be difficult about this, maybe we should, you know, help things along." Dean said, a mischievous look in his green eyes.
"We shouldn't get involved, Dean. Pushing him into it would be wrong."
Dean nodded, glancing over at me with a shrug. "But...it might help him. So, you in?"
"Sure, why not." I smiled.
In the long run, being with someone, if only for a little bit might actually help Sam even if he doesn't think so. Dean and I could try at the very least, even though I had a feeling Sam wouldn't be all to willing to cooperate.
Sam had come back a lot earlier then Dean and I were expecting, though we knew he wouldn't stay out all night, it was still strange to see him back here at ten pm.
"So, she just handed the providences over to you." Dean asked, looking up from the blade he was sharpening.
"Provenances." Sam corrected again, looking through the papers in his lap.
"Provenances?"
"Yes." Sam sighed. "We went back to her place, I got a copy of the papers-"
"And?" I asked, my voice probably sounding too hopeful.
"And nothing. That's it. I left." Sam shrugged, glancing up at us.
"You didn't have to con her or do any special favors or anything like that?" Dean asked.
"Would you guys get your mind out of the gutter, please? Plus, it's a little creepy how interested you two are in my...personal relationships."
"Personal relationships? Seriously?" Dean asked, shaking his head as I chuckled. "You know, when this whole thing's done, we could stick around for a little bit."
"Why?" Sam asked, his brow furrowed.
"Because...you could take her out again." I said, smiling over at him.
"It's obvious you're into her, even I could see that." Dean added. Sam completely ignored us, going back to the papers. I shared a tired look with Dean, the two of us letting out a sigh.
"Hey, I think I've got something here." Sam said, handing Dean the papers.
"Portrait of Isaiah Merchant's family, painted nineteen-ten." Dean read.
"Now compare the names of the owners with Dad's journal." Sam muttered. I grabbed the journal, taking the papers from Dean as I placed them on the book.
"First purchased in nineteen-twelve, Peter Simms. Peter Simms murdered nineteen-twelve. Same thing in nineteen-forty-five." My eyes widening as I continued. "Same thing in nineteen-seventy."
"Then stored, until it was donated to a charity auction last month. Where the Telescas bought it." Sam said. "So what do you think, it's haunted? or cursed?"
"Either way, it's toast." Dean said, grabbing his jacket, then mine.
I let out a sigh, catching my jacket as he threw it to me. "What is with breaking into places so much lately? We're gonna get caught."
"Not if we get rid of that attitude." Dean winked, heading outside.
AUCTION HOUSE – NIGHT
I stood at the base of the metal gate in front of us, watching Dean climb up easily, jumping to the other side. Sam stood next to me, bending down slightly as he locked his fingers together to give me a lift. I placed my hands on his shoulders as he pushed me up almost to the top of the fence where I grabbed onto the bars.
"Come on!" Dean whisper-yelled, staring up at me.
"Shut up or I'm gonna fall on you." I snapped, glaring down at him.
"Wouldn't mind that." Dean smirked. I rolled my eyes at him, swinging myself over the top before climbing down the other side as fast as possible. I let out a sigh of relief as my feet hit the solid ground.
The two of us watched as Sam easily climbed over the fence, his height helping him a lot. He put a pair of gloves on, nodding to us as he turned to disarm the security alarm. "Go ahead."
Dean and I put on our own pairs of gloves, making our way over to the front door of the building with him. Dean leaned over, picking the lock as Sam approached us. Once we were inside, we pulled out our flashlights, quickly searching around for the painting.
I glanced upstairs, seeing the painting sitting there. Nudging Dean on the shoulder, he got Sam's attention and the three of us made our way to it up the spiral staircase. Dean held his flashlight in his mouth, pulling out his switchblade to cut the painting out of its frame. I carefully rolled the painting up after he gave it to me and we were done.
DIRT ROAD – NIGHT
I unrolled the painting, lying it down in the dirt as Sam held out a flashlight. Dean pulled out a box of matches, shaking his head as he stared down at the painting.
"Ugly ass thing. If you ask me we're doing the art world a favor."
I shrugged, tilting my head as I stared down at the thing. Just touching it made me nervous, which wasn't usually like me. Dean dropped the match and the three of us watched as it burned to ashes in front of us.
MOTEL – DAY
I leaned on the headboard, flicking around on the TV, trying to find something to watch. Last night and the most part of today was just spent laying around until we found another case...as far as Sam knew anyway.
"We got a problem – I can't find my wallet." Dean said, rushing out of the bathroom.
"How is that my problem?" Sam asked, looking up from the bag he insisted on starting to pack.
"'Cause I think I dropped it in the warehouse last night." Dean said.
"Dean, are you serious?" I asked, my eyes going wide.
"Yeah. It's got my prints, my ID – well, my fake ID anyway." Dean muttered, throwing on his jacket. "We gotta get it before someone else finds it."
"You gotta be kidding me." Sam mumbled, glancing over at me. "How do you deal with this idiot?"
"It's hard, but I fight through it." I muttered, flinching back from the glare Dean shot me, shaking his head. I was doing everything possible to hold in my laughter as we left.
AUCTION HOUSE – DAY
The three of us hurried through the building, moving around a few people scattered around as we looked for Dean's wallet.
"How do you lose your wallet, Dean?" Sam asked, getting frustrated as he walked a few feet away. Dean threw his hands up, shooting me a look as we searched underneath a table.
"Hey guys!" Sarah called out, smiling at us as we spun around, plastering big smiled on our faces.
"Sarah!" Sam exclaimed, breathing heavily. "Hey."
"What are you doing here?"
"We are leaving town and, you know, we came to say goodbye." Sam nodded.
"What are you talking about Sam? We're sticking around for at least another day or two." Dean muttered, he and I walking over to them. Sam furrowed his brow, looking to me for some kind of explanation. I didn't give him one though, turning to Dean.
"Hey, don't forget to give Sam that money you owe him." I said, glancing over at Sarah. "He never remembers."
"It's true." Dean nodded, pulling his wallet out of his pocket as he shot a meaningful look to Sam as he held out a twenty. "There you go."
Sam grabbed the money away from Dean, shooting a glare at the two of us. I just smiled up at him, wrapping an arm around Dean as he threw his own over my shoulder.
"Well, we'll leave you two crazy kids alone." Dean smiled. "We gotta go do something...somewhere." The two of us left quickly, but making sure we stayed close enough to hear what was going on.
"So..." Sam trialled off, rocking back and forth awkwardly.
"I had a good time last night." Sarah smiled.
"Yeah, yeah. I did too."
"Maybe we should do it again sometime."
"You know. I'd love to, I really would, but Dean and Tori, they were just screwing around. We really are taking off today."
"Oh my god." I mumbled, shaking my head.
"Really, Sam?" Dean huffed, walking away. I glanced back seeing him walk over to a small table with a few trays of food on it. I rolled my eyes, turning back to the vase I was pretending to look over.
"Oh. Oh. Uh, that's too bad." Sarah mumbled, looking to the ground.
"Oh my god!" Sam yelled, starling me. I looked up at him, seeing his wide eyes.
"What?" Sarah jumped, looking around.
"The- that painting...looks so good!" Sam exclaimed. My mouth popped open as I followed his gaze to the same painting we thought we burned last night.
"If you can call that monstrosity good, then...yeah, I guess." Sarah shrugged.
"So...what do you know about that painting?" Sam asked.
"Not much – just that it creeps me out. We sold it to the Telescas at a charity auction the night they were murdered."
"Yeah, and now you're just going to sell it again?"
"As much as my Dad wants to, no. I won't let him. I think it'd be in bad taste."
"Good. Yeah. You know what? Don't. Don't. Make sure you don't, okay?" Sam muttered, glancing over in my direction.
"Why?" Sarah asked. "Don't tell me you're interested in that?"
"No. No, God, no. Not in buying it, no. Sam said quickly, backing up. "You know what? I gotta go, I gotta take care of something. But um, I will call you back...I will call you, I'll see you later."
I let out a slow breath, placing my head in my hand as I watched him flop around like a fish out of water.
"Wait, so you're...not leaving tonight?" Sarah asked, clearly getting confused.
"N- n- no. I guess not." Sam mumbled, walking away. "I'll see you!"
As Sam started walking in my direction, I stepped away from the vase, walking alongside him. "Way to play it cool, Sam."
"I tried! The painting- it just- it caught me off guard."
"Sure." I muttered, grabbing Dean's arm as we passed.
Dean glanced down at my hand on his arm, placing the glass he was holding down on one of the tables we passed. "What's going on?"
"Come on."
"What's wrong?" Dean asked.
"We have a major problem." I said, walking outside. "The painting, it's back."
"That's impossible."
"Yeah, well, I saw it."
"I don't understand. We burned the damn thing." Sam said.
"Yeah, thank you Captain Obvious." Dean quipped, getting into the driver seat. "Alright, we just need to figure out another way to get rid of it. Any ideas?"
"Well, in almost all the lore about haunted paintings it's always the painting's subject that haunts them." I said.
"Yeah. So we just need to figure out everything there is to know about that creepy-ass family and that creepy-ass painting." Dean said, staring the car.
SECOND HAND BOOK SHOP – DAY
The librarian in front of Sam and I adjusted the glasses on his face, straightening them as he looked up. "You said the Isaiah Merchant family, right?"
"Yeah, that's right." Sam nodded. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Dean walk up behind me, a smile on his face as he flicked through the book in his hands.
"I dug up every scrap of local history I could find." The librarian said, placing a large book of old newspaper clippings on the table. "So, are you kids crime buffs?"
"Kinda. Yeah." Dean shrugged. "Why do you ask?"
"Well..." The man paused, holding up at news paper article, pointing to the small section that was titled; Father Slaughters Family, Kills Himself.
"Yes." Dean muttered, sharing a look with me. "Yeah, that sounds about right."
"The whole family was killed?" I asked.
"It seems this Isaiah, he slits his kids throats, then his wife, then himself. Now, he was a barber by trade. Used a straight razor." The librarian explained.
"Why'd he do it?"
"Let's look." He said, flipping the paper around. "People who knew him describe Isaiah as having a stern and harsh temperament. Controlled his family with an iron fist. Wife, two sons, adopted daughter. There were whispers that the wife was gonna take the kids and leave." He said, looking up at us from the paper. "Which of course, you know, in that day and age...um, so instead, old man Isaiah...well he gave them all a shave."
The librarian ran a finger across his throat, making gagging noises as he laughed. I heard Dean start laughing behind me, to which I quickly smacked his stomach with the back of my hand, shaking my head at him.
Dean sobered up quickly, looking back to the man with a very forced serious expression. "Does it say what happened to the bodies?"
"Just that they were all cremated."
"Anything else?" Sam asked.
"Yeah. Actually I found a picture of the family." He said, holding up a small picture of the painting at the auction house. I thought I noticed something different with the picture, but he pulled it away too quickly.
"Hey, could we get a copy of this please?" Sam asked, probably seeing the same thing I did.
"Sure." The man nodded, going to make a copy. I turned back to Dean, disapproval clear on my face.
"What?" He asked.
"Since when is people getting their throats slit funny?"
"I- it's not. It's just, he was-" Dean stuttered, biting his lip at my raised eyebrow. "It's not."
"Here you." The man said, coming back with a copy of the picture.
"Thank you." I smiled, taking it from him as we left.
MOTEL – DAY
The three of us sat around the small table, papers spread across the whole thing as I stared down at the picture.
"I'm telling you man, I'm sure of it." Sam said. "The painting at the auction house, Dad is looking down. Painting here, Dad's looking out. The painting has changed, Dean."
"Alright, so you think that Daddy dearest is trapped in the painting and is handing out Colombian neckties like he did with his family?" Dean asked.
"Well, yeah, it seems like it. But if his bones are already dusted then how are we gonna stop him?" I asked.
"Alright, well, if Isaiah's position changed then maybe some other things in the painting changed as well. You know, it could give us some clues."
"What, like a Da Vinci Code deal?" Sam asked.
"Maybe." I shrugged, looking over at him.
Dean stared at both of us blankly, shaking his head. "I don't...know. Uh, I'm still waiting for the movie on that one. Anyway, we gotta get back in and see that painting." I watched Dean as he got up from the chair, throwing himself down onto the bed, crossing his arms. "Which is a good thing, 'cause you can get some more time to crush on your girlfriend."
Sam let out a huff, shaking his head. "Alright. Enough already.
"What?"
"What? Ever since we got here, you two been trying to pimp me out to Sarah." Sam said, glancing over at me. "Just back off, alright?"
"You like her don't you?" I asked, watching as he rolled his eyes.
"Alright, you like her, she likes you – you're both consenting adults..." Dean trailed off, shrugging.
"What's the point?" Sam asked, raising his voice. "We'll just leave. We always leave."
"Well, I'm not talking about marriage, Sam."
"You know, I don't get it. What do you guys care if I hook up?"
"'Cause then maybe you wouldn't be so cranky all the time." Dean muttered. I shot him a hard look, shaking my head as Sam huffed.
"Sam, this isn't about just hooking up, okay? I mean, we think that Sarah could be good for you." I said, my voice caring. "And you know I don't mean any disrespect. But if this is about Jessica...Sam, I don't know what it's like to lose somebody like that – but I would think that she would want you to be happy."
"God forbid have fun once in a while." Dean added softly, sitting up. Sam let out a sigh, scratching his head as he looked down to the table.
I nodded lightly, looking back to Sam. "Wouldn't she?"
"Yeah, I know she would." Sam murmured quietly, a small smile on his face as he sighed heavily, looking up at me. "Yeah, you're right. Part of this is about Jessica. But not the main part."
"What's it about?" I asked. Sam just shook his head, looking back down to the table
"Yeah, alright." Dean said, laying back down. "Well, we still gotta see that painting, which means you still gotta call Sarah, so..."
I smiled over at Sam as I picked up his phone slowly, clearing his throat. I glanced over at Dean as he winked at me, settling into the bed. I got up and headed over to the bed as Sam grimaced, knowing neither one of us were going to give him any privacy here. With a sigh, he dialed her number, holding the phone to his ear as she answered.
"Sarah, hey, it's Sam. Hey, hi." Sam paused, trying to avoid my gaze. "Good. Good, yeah. Um, what about you?"
Dean cracked one eye open, raising an eyebrow as he listened to his brother.
"Yeah, good, good, really good." Sam repeated.
"Smooth." Dean whispered, shaking his head. I chuckled, smacking his chest lightly as he smiled up at me.
"So, uh, so listen. We were, uh, thinking that maybe we'd like to come back in and look at the painting again. I- I think maybe we are interested in buying it." Sam paused as Sarah replied, his eyes going wide. "What!?"
Dean and I quickly sat up, hearing the panicked tone in Sam's voice.
"Who'd you sell it to?" Sam asked, standing to his feet. Dean and I stood up, listening closely to him. "Sarah, I need an address right now."
MANSION – DAY
Dean pulled up to the large house barely even putting the car in park before Sam and I jumped out, stopping when we saw Sarah walked out the side of the car in the driveway.
"Sam, what's happening?" She asked.
"I told you, you shouldn't have come." Sam said, moving past her without another word. She shot me a questioning look as I followed him, Dean behind me.
"Hello, anyone home?" Dean asked, banging on the door, leaning back to kick it a few times.
"You said Evelyn might be in danger. What sort of danger?" Sarah asked, walking up behind.
"I can't knock this sucker down. I gotta pick it." Dean muttered, bending down to pick the lock as Sam and I tried to look inside the windows past the metal security bars.
"What are you guys, burglars?" Sarah asked.
"I wish it was that simple." Sam said, glancing back at her. "Look you really should wait in the car. It's for your own good."
Dean eventually got the door open and he and Sam ran inside. Sarah went to move after them, but I stopped her, shaking my head. "Sarah, really. You should stay out here."
"The hell I will. Evelyn's a friend." She said, a strong look in her eyes.
I knew this girl was perfect for Sam.
"Alright, come." I nodded, rushing into the house to catch up with the boys.
"Evelyn?" Sarah called out, looking around as we entered the lounge room. I glanced up at the large painting on the wall, noticing how Isaiah is looking down at his daughter. Sarah walked over to Evelyn, who was sitting in a chair with her back facing us. Sarah made her way over to Evelyn, moving to touch her shoulder. "Evelyn? It's Sarah Blake...are you all right?"
"Sarah don't!" Sam called urgently. "Sarah!"
Just as Sarah touched Evelyn's shoulder, her head tipped back, exposing the large slash going across her throat. Sarah screamed, moving back to Sam's arms. "Oh my god!"
Dean and I watched as Sam led Sarah out of the room, bringing her back to her car. We spent a few minutes with her, making sure she was okay to drive before we left.
MOTEL ROOM – NIGHT
I sat next to Dean at the small bar in the room, glancing over at the laptop as he did some more research. Sam hadn't relaxed since what happened at Evelyn's and I knew it was because he was worried about Sarah. Just then, there was a small knock on the door. The three of us shared a look before Sam went over, opening the door to reveal a scared look Sarah.
"Hey. You all right?" Sam asked, moving to the side so she could walk in.
"No, actually, I just lied to the cops and told them I went to Evelyn's, alone, and found her like that." Sarah muttered, glancing back at Dean and I.
"Thank you." Sam said, a relieved look on his face.
"Don't thank me, I'm about to call them right back if you don't tell me what the hell's going on. Who's killing these people?" Sarah asked adamantly.
Sam glanced back to Dean and I, looking for advice. Dean raised his eyebrows as I shrugged, shaking my head. Sam let out a huff, turning back to Sarah. "What."
"What?" Sarah asked.
"It's not who. It's what is killing those people." Sam said. Sarah's eyes widened as she looked up at him like he'd lost his mind. "Sarah, you saw that painting move."
"No." Sarah muttered, shaking her head in agitation. "No. I was- I was seeing things. It's impossible."
"Yeah, well, welcome to our world." Dean mumbled.
"Sarah, I know this sounds crazy...but we think that that painting is haunted." Sam told her.
"You're joking." Sarah said, staring at Sam for a moment before turning to Dean and I, seeing the same expressions on our faces as her eyes darted between the three of us. "You're not joking. God, the guys I go out with."
"Just to clarify, you do consider what happened the other night a date?" I asked, a small smile on my face as Sam glared at me.
"What?" She asked, a blush creeping up on her cheeks.
"Uh, nothing." I smirked, sharing a look with Dean as he grinned.
"Ignore them." Sam said, shaking his head. "Sarah, think about it. Evelyn, the Telesca's, they both had the painting. And there have been others before that. Wherever this thing goes, people die. And we're just trying to stop it. And that's the truth."
Sarah took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "Then I guess you'd better show me. I'm coming with you."
"What? No. Sarah no, you should just go home. This stuff can get dangerous and- and I don't want you to get hurt."
This was just too cute.
"Look, you guys are probably crazy. But if you're right about this? Well, me and my Dad sold that painting that might've gotten these people killed. Look, I'm not saying I'm not scared, because I am scared as hell. But...I'm not going to run and hide either." Sarah said strongly, heading to the door. "So, are we going or what?"
I shared another look with Dean, smiling after Sarah as Dean looked to his brother. "Sam?"
"Yeah?"
"Marry that girl."
Sam cheeks started to burn red as he grimaced, quickly turning on his heel to follow Sarah. I looked over at Dean, the two of us sharing a small smile.
Part of me thought we were a little to excited about this, but seeing Sam act like this was just too damn adorable.
MANSION – DAY
Sam was currently picking the lock of Evelyn's front door as the rest of us ducked under police tape to follow him.
"Isn't this a crime scene?" Sarah asked, glancing over at me.
"Well, you've already lied to the cops. What's another infraction?" Dean asked, shooting her a small smile as she gaped at him.
Once Sam got the door opened, we followed him inside where he lifted the panting down from the wall. The four of the gathered around, staring down at it.
"Aren't you worried that it's gonna kill us?" Sarah asked.
"No, it seems to do its thing at night." Sam replied. "I think we're all right in the daylight."
"Hey, check it out." Dean said, holding the picture out next to the painting. "The razor, it's closed in this one, but it's open in that one."
"What are you guys looking for?" Sarah asked.
"Well, if the spirit's changing aspects of the painting, then it's doing so for a reason." I told her.
"Hey, hey look at this." Sam said, pointing to a small painting above the family. "The painting in the painting."
"Looks like a crypt, or a mausoleum or something." Dean muttered, looking around the side tables for something. He grabbed a thick ashtray, using it as a magnifying glass over the painting to read it. "Merchant."
GRAVEYARD – DAY
Dean and I trailed behind Sam and Sarah slightly, letting them have a good amount of space, much to Sam's dismay. I could tell he really liked the girl, but I could also tell he didn't really know what to do with those feelings.
"This is the third boneyard we've checked." Dean complained. "I think this ghost is jerking us around."
"Probably." I mumbled, glancing up at him with a shrug.
"So, this is what you guys do for a living?" Sarah asked, looking up at Sam.
"Not exactly." Sam muttered. "We don't get paid."
"Well, Mazel tov." Sarah said, a small smile on her face.
"Over there." Dean said, pointing to a mausoleum.
We made our way over to it, watching on as Dean broke the lock, opening the cobweb covered door. I stepped in after Dean, looking around at all the name plates covering the walls in front of four urns in little glass boxes. I peered into one of the boxes with Sarah, both of us spotting a small porcelain doll with dark hair sitting there.
"Okay, that right there is the creepiest thing I've ever seen." Sarah muttered, glancing over at me.
"Probably not the creepiest for me, but it's definitely one of them."
"How many creepy things have you seen?"
"Too many." I said with a grimace.
"Doing that, it was a sort of tradition at the time." Sam said, nodding to the doll. "Whenever a child died, sometimes they'd preserve the kid's favorite toy in a glass case, put it next to the headstone or crypt."
"Notice anything strange here?" Dean asked, glancing back to Sam and I.
"Uh, where do I start?" Sarah asked. Sam chuckled, staring down at her with googly eyes.
"No, that's not what I mean." Dean said, shaking his head. "Look at the urns."
"There are only four." I muttered.
"Yeah, Mom and the three kids. Daddy dearest isn't here."
"So where is he?" Sam asked.
OFFICE BUILDINGS – DAY
I watched Dean go, walking into the building as Sam, Sarah and I hung back. Sam sat down on the small wall, looking around as Sarah sat next to him, leaving enough space for me to sit in the middle. I rolled my eyes, shaking my head as I sat a few inches from Sarah. The both let out small sighs, Sam's plan to have me as a buffer failing miserably.
"So what exactly is your Dean doing in there?" Sarah asked, glancing over at me.
"Searching county death certificates trying to find out what happened to Isaiah's body." I said.
"How'd he even get in the door?" She asked, turning back to Sam.
"Lying and subterfuge mostly." He muttered, staring down at her strangely. I rose an eyebrow, watching as he raised a hand, hesitating for a moment. "You have, uh, you have an eyelash on your- no-"
I furrowed my brow, watching as Sarah reached for it, having no idea where it was.
"Do you mind if I, uh, get it?" Sam asked awkwardly.
"No." Sarah muttered, a small smile on her face.
Sam awkwardly reached up to her face, plucking the eyelash off, holding it on his finger. "Okay, I got it. Make a wish."
Sarah let out a small laugh, closing her eyes a moment before blowing the eyelash away. I could see Sarah wanted to say something, holding back slightly probably because I was here. I let out a small sigh, standing to my feet. "I, uh, I have to be somewhere else."
"What?" Sam asked, shooting me a strange look.
"Anywhere but here...because- I mean, there are reasons." I shrugged, backing away. "I'm just gonna...go."
I walked around the planter they were sitting on, staying a small distance away so I could hear them. I mean, I had to know what was going on, they were just too damn adorable.
"Sam, can I ask you something?" Sarah asked.
"Yeah, sure."
"I don't mean to be forward, but a girl could wait here forever." Sarah muttered, letting out a breath. "Is there something here, between us? Or am I delusional?"
"You're not delusional."
"But there's a but coming."
"But...I don't think this would be a good idea." Sam mumbled.
"Can I ask why?"
"'Cause I like you."
"Wait. You lost me." Sarah chuckled. Sam joined in, laughing lightly with a shake of his head.
"Look, it's hard to explain. Uh, it's just when people are around me – I don't know, they get hurt." Sam muttered.
Is that really what he thinks?
"What do you mean?" Sarah asked.
"I mean like physically hurt. Me and my family, what we do, it's-" Sam paused, letting out a breath. "Sarah, I had a girlfriend. And she died. And my Mom died, too. I don't know, it's like- it's like I'm cursed or something. Like death just follows me around. Look, I'm not scared of much, but if I let myself have feelings for anybody..."
"You're scared they'd get hurt, too." Sarah muttered as Sam looked down. "That's very sweet. And very archaic."
Sam looked up quickly, a confused look on his face. "Sorry?"
"Look, I'm a big girl Sam. It's not your job to make decisions for me. There's always a chance of getting hurt." Sarah reasoned.
"I'm not talking about a broken heart and a tub of Haagen Dazs. I'm talking about life and death."
"And tomorrow I could get hit by a bus. That's what life is. Look, I know losing somebody you love – it's terrible. You shut yourself off. Believe me, I know. But when you shut out pain, you shut out everything else, too."
"Sarah, you don't understand. The pain that I went through...I can't go through it again. I can't."
I was so enthralled with their conversation that I didn't hear Dean walking up behind me. "Whatcha doin?"
I let out a loud shriek, jumping a foot in the air when he placed a hand on my arm, which caused Sam and Sarah to look over at me, realizing I was listening the whole time.
I quickly turned, smacking Dean's arm hard. "Nice move."
"Sorry." Dean muttered, a big smile on his face.
"No, you're not."
"Nah."
I sheepishly walked back over to Sam and Sarah. "Sorry guys."
"No, you're not." Sam said, repeating what I'd said just moments before.
"No, I'm not. Not really." I grinned, wringing my fingers together.
"So, what'd you get?" Sam asked, looking over to his brother.
"Paydirt. Apparently the surviving relatives of the Merchant family were so ashamed of Isaiah that they didn't want him interred with the rest of the family. So, they handed him over to the county, the county gave him a pauper's funeral. Economy style. Turns out he wasn't cremated; he was buried in a pine box." Dean explained.
"So there are bones to burn."
"There are bones to burn." Dean nodded.
"Tell me you know where." Sam asked, standing to his feet.
"I do." Dean nodded again, a smirk spreading across his lips. "You and Sarah want a few more minutes? Tori and I can go som-"
"Come on." Sam snapped, walking away with a roll of his eyes. Sarah glanced up at Dean and I, a small grin on her face as Dean headed after Sam. I lagged back with Sarah, the two of us taking our time to get to the Impala.
"I can see what you two are doing here, you know." She muttered, smiling over at me.
"Can you? I thought we were being so subtle about it." I laughed.
"Oh, no, no. You guys are doing a great job at that. I just have great intuition" Sarah chuckled.
"I've been with these guys for half of my life, Sarah. Sam is like a little brother to me. Dean and I just want to see him be happy. I'm sorry if we're being too pushy." I apologized. "We don't mean to make you uncomfortable or anything."
"It's actually not bothering me all that much. I think it's sweet that you guys care."
"We really just want whats best for him."
"And you think that's me?" She asked, a little taken-aback.
"Actually, yeah." I nodded, smiling at her as I bumped my shoulder into hers. "You're pretty cool."
"Thanks." She laughed, shooting a small smile at me as we quieted down, getting close to the Impala.
Sam shot me a nervous look, obviously seeing that Sarah and I were talking. I tried to silently tell him to calm down, but he looked just as anxious as ever. Sarah and I slid into the backseat as Dean drove off to the graveyard where Isaiah was buried.
GRAVEYARD – NIGHT
In the grave, I helped the boys dig through the dirt with Sarah holding the flashlight for us, a small grimace on her face.
"You guys seem to be uncomfortably comfortable with this." She commented.
"Well, uh, this isn't exactly the first grave we've dug." Sam muttered, climbing out to stand next to her. "Still think I'm a catch?"
Sarah laughed as Dean pushed his shovel into the dirt, hitting something solid with a clank. "Think I've got something."
I hopped out of the grave, sitting on the edge as Dean used the shovel to crack open the coffin lid, revealing a corpse. With a huff, Dean pulled himself out of the grave, going through the bag to pull out a box of matches as I opened the bottle of kerosene, pouring some on the bones.
"You've been a real pain in the ass, Isaiah." Dean grumbled, throwing a lit match on the bones. "Good riddance."
I had to say, out of all of it, this was probably my least favorite thing to do. It it was gross, so I understood the grossed out look on Sarah's face. She let out a big breath as we all stood around the small pit, watching the body burn inside the pine box.
MANSION – NIGHT
Dean pulled the Impala up Evelyn's long driveway, stopping it front of the steps. Sam opened the door, about to get out when he leaned back in, looking over at Dean.
"Keep the motor running."
"I thought the painting was harmless now?" Sarah asked.
"Better safe than sorry." Sam shrugged. "We're gonna bury the sucker."
Sarah glanced back at me before jumping out of the car. "I'm gonna with you."
"You sure?" Sam asked.
"Yeah." Sarah nodded, standing near the steps.
"Hey!" Dean called, catching Sam's attention as he started to get out. "Hey, we'll stay here, you go make your move."
I shook my head, shooting a small smile at Sam as he scoffed at his brother, getting out of the car.
"I'm serious!" Dean yelled out as Sarah and Sam walked up the stairs.
Dean glanced back at me, letting out a small sigh as a smirk spread across his face. I watched as he leaned forward, turning the radio on, blaring a love ballad through the speakers. Sam turned around, his eyes wide as he shook his head, clearly getting uncomfortable. Dean shrugged his shoulders, watching as Sam ran a hand quickly across his throat. I sighed, reaching over the seat to shut the song off.
"Hey, I thought you were all for pushing them together."
"First of all, I said I didn't want to push them together. And second, I think it's a little weird that you want to provide the music while your brother gets naked-"
"Okay, whoa, whoa." Dean interrupted, shaking his head at me. "Too much."
"Exactly." I muttered, patting his shoulder as I sat back in the seat.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the front door slam shut, without a word to Dean, I jumped out of the car, running up to the door.
I heard Dean get out, following me there. "What's wrong?"
"The door shut."
"They do that."
"Dean." I huffed, glaring at him as I turned the doorknob. "It looked like someone slammed it and now I can't get it open."
Dean nodded, worry quickly filling his eyes as he shoved his shoulder into the door, trying to break it open. I heard two sets of footsteps rushing towards the door on the other side.
"Hey! Guys, is that you?" Sam called out through the door.
"Sammy, you alright?" Dean asked, concern covering his features as he phone rang. He quickly pulled it out, answering it. "Tell me you slammed the front door."
"Nope, it wasn't me. I think it was the little girl."
"Girl? What girl?" Dean asked, giving me the phone as he tried to pick the lock.
"Yeah, she's out of the painting. I think it might've been her all along." Sam replied.
"Wasn't the Dad looking down at her? Maybe he was trying to warn us." I said.
"Hey, hey, let's recap later all right? Just get us out of here."
"Well, I'm trying to pick the lock, the door won't budge." Dean muttered, breathing heavily.
"Well, knock it down." Sam said. I shared a quick look with Dean, the both of us rolling our eyes.
"Okay genius, let me just grab my battering ram." Dean scoffed.
"Dean, the damn thing is coming."
"Well, you're just gonna have to hold it off until we figure something out. Get some salt or iron." Dean instructed.
"Come on." Sam muttered, their footsteps moving fast through the speaker. "What kind of house doesn't have salt? Low-sodium freaks."
I chuckled at that, taking the phone away from my ear to help Dean look for any way we could actually get into the house. Around the side, I looked in the window to see the small, dark-haired girl from the picture dragging a doll behind her, a large razor in her other hand.
"Dean, we gotta figure this out!" I yelled, glancing over at him with worried eyes as I held the phone back to my ear. "Sam, are you okay?"
"Yeah, for now."
"How we gonna waste her?" Dean asked, walking up to me.
"She was already cremated. There's nothing left to burn." I said.
"Then how's she still around?"
"There must be something else."
"Sam, wait." Sarah called. "We used to handle antique dolls at the auction."
"Well, that's fascinating Sarah, but is it important right now?" Sam asked.
"Well, back then they use to make the dolls in the kids image. I mean everything, they would use the kid's real hair."
"Wait, if the doll has some of her hair...that's human remains, it's same as bones." I said.
"The Mausoleum!" Sam and Dean exclaimed at the same time. I pushed past Dean, handing him the phone as I rushed to the Impala.
GRAVEYARD – NIGHT
Dean drove the Impala right through the locked gates, the sounds of metal scraping against the front of the car sounded loudly as he continued through, a determination on his face.
You don't mess with Dean Winchesters family, that's for sure.
The Impala screeched to a halt as Dean quickly hit the breaks, the two of us jumping out of the car. We quickly ran into the mausoleum, finding the glass case with the doll inside it. Dean pounded the container, hitting it with the butt of his gun as I stood behind him. I furrowed my brow as Dean turned, about to head back to the Impala.
"Dean! Just shoot it!" I yelled, throwing my arms out to the side.
"Oh, god. Come on, Dean!" He shook his head, scolding himself before stepping in front of me, shielding his own face with his other arm as he lifted the gun, shooting the glass. It shattered instantly. Dean used the gun to knock the rest of the broken glass out so I could reach in and grab the small doll.
I held it out as Dean pulled out his lighter, holding it underneath the dolls hair, but it wouldn't light.
"Dean, come on!"
"I'm trying!" Dean shouted, the lighter finally catching at the last moment, smoke rising as the flame burned the dolls hair. I quickly dropped it to the ground, watching the rest of it burn as Dean pulled out his phone, calling Sam.
"Sam, you good?"
"Not bad." I heard Sam muttered, his breathing labored.
In the moment, neither one of us were about to admit just how scared we were for Sam, but now that it was over, we silently let ourselves. I glanced up at Dean, the relief on both of our face as I stepped over the doll to pull him to me, hugging him tightly.
MANSION – NIGHT
I had finally gotten a moment alone with Sam, kind of having to corner him in a room to get him away from Sarah as we cleaned up Evelyn's house. Sam bent down, holding a dustpan to the floor as I swept some debris into it with a sigh.
"So, Sam..."
"What?"
"About what you said to Sarah before-"
"You mean when you were eavesdropping?" Sam asked, looking up at me with amused eyes.
"Yeah, well...I know it was wrong, but I'd still do it again." I chuckled, smiling down at him. "Sam, you- you don't think that everything that happened – you know, with your mom and Jessica...you don't really think that was your fault, do you?"
Sam paused, glancing down at the ground before standing up, throwing the debris in the dustpan out in the garbage can before turning back to me. "Yeah, Tori, I do."
"Sam, that's ridiculous." I muttered, looking up at him with caring eyes. "None of that was because of you. It was out of your control."
"But-"
"They were horrible things done by a demon, Sam. Not you. Not because of you. It's not your fault, you need to know that."
"Thanks, Tori." Sam murmured, glancing down to the ground with sad eyes. I couldn't take it anymore, pulling him in for a tight hug, which he quickly responded to, hugging me back.
"And it doesn't mean you don't get to be happy." I finished, nodding over to Sarah, who was cleaning up the next room with Dean as I pulled away.
I could tell Sam didn't believe me, but I didn't want to push it too much, seeing the tears forming in his eyes.
AUCTION HOUSE – DAY
I walked beside Dean, his arm thrown around my shoulders as we approached Sam and Sarah, watching the painting being put in a crate.
"This was archived in the county records." Dean said, holding up the papers in his hand. "The Merchant's adopted daughter Melanie. Know why she was up for adoption? 'Cause her real family was murdered in their beds."
"She killed them?" Sarah asked.
"Yeah. Who'd suspect her? Sweet little girl." Dean shrugged. "So then she kills Isaiah and his family. The old man takes the blame. His spirit's been trying to warn people ever since."
"So where's this one go?" One of the men crating the painting asked, looking over at Sarah.
"Take it out back and burn it." She said simply. Everyone working around stopped, staring at her in disbelief.
"I'm serious guys. Thanks." She nodded, turning back to the three of us as we walked outside. "So why'd the girl do it?"
"Some people are just born tortured." I shrugged sadly. "So, when they die, their spirits are just as dark."
"Maybe. I don't really care." Dean muttered. "It's over, we move on."
"Oh, I guess this means you're leaving." Sarah murmured, looking towards the ground. Sam glanced down at Dean and I, staring at us for a long moment.
I smiled up at him, patting Dean on the chest. "Well, we'll go wait in the car. See you around, Sarah."
Dean stood where he was for a second, nodding over to Sam before allowing me to drag him away. "I'm the one that burned the doll, destroyed the spirit, but don't thank me or anything."
"I'm sorry, you're the one? Dean, if it wasn't for me you'd probably still be in there trying to figure out how to bust the glass." I smirked.
"Oh, you're so funny." Dean mumbled, pressing me against the side of the Impala, leaning down to place a long kiss on my lips. I wrapped my arms around his neck, smiling up at him for a moment before turning my attention back to Sam and Sarah.
"There are a million things I wanna say to you, but for the life of me I can't think of one." Sarah muttered.
"Yeah, I'll miss you too." Sam nodded.
"You know there's a lesson in all of this."
"What's that?" Sam asked.
"We all got through this in one piece. I didn't get hurt."
"Yeah, I'm glad for that." Sam chuckled.
"So, maybe you're not cursed. Maybe...maybe you'll come back and see me." Sarah muttered hopefully.
"I will." Sam nodded as Sarah moved to go back inside, shutting the door behind her. Dean let out a sigh, shaking his head as he moved to get in the car.
I stayed where I was, watching as Sam stood there for a moment, turning to knock on the door. Sarah peaked out, a smile on her face as Sam stepped forward, bending down to kiss her. I tapped Dean's shoulder, nodding over to them with a small smile.
"That's my boy." Dean muttered with a smile.
I shook my head, pushing him towards the car. "Come on, let's give them privacy."
"Yeah, yeah." Dean nodded, sitting in the driver seat.
I slid into the backseat, waiting a few moments before turning around again. Sam pulled back slightly, placing another gentle kiss on Sarah's lips before stepping back, a small smile on his face. Sarah mirrored his expression, watching sadly as he backed away slowly, making his way to the Impala. Sam got into the car with a sigh, trying his hardest to not look back at Sarah.
"Sam, we could stay." I said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "We should. Maybe just for a little bit?"
"No." Sam muttered, shaking his head. "We should go."
"Are you sure?" Dean asked, looking over at his little brother with concerned eyes.
"Yeah."
"Okay." Dean nodded, glancing back at me in the rear-view mirror before staring the Impala, pulling away. I looked back to see Sarah leaning on the door behind her, watching us sadly.
I felt a pang of sadness hit me as I turned back around, wishing more than ever that Sam didn't carry all the guilt that he did. I wished there was some way I could make him understand that he wasn't the reason for Mary or Jessica's death. It wasn't his fault, it never would be.
A lost feeling washed over me as I watched him stare blankly out the window. I saw Dean glancing over at him every so often, probably feeling the same thing I was in this moment. Neither one of us knew how to help him in this situation as much as we tried and I couldn't begin to explain just how hard it actually was to watch him struggle with so much sadness.
The only thing we could do at this point was try and be there for him as much as possible, try to keep reminding him that it really wasn't his fault in as many ways as we could. He wasn't cursed and no matter what, it was okay to allow himself to feel things again...to be some kind of happy, even if it was only for a little while.
I could only hope that after some time, he'd actually let himself believe it.
One down two to go before we start season two!
I really like the way this one turned out, so I'm excited about posting it. I hope you'll all enjoying reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it :D
Sorry if there are any mistakes, I'll come back and check for them later.
Thanks for all support, you guys are awesome :)
Twitter: phoenixfire779