Sammy Just Got Played

Sam started stuttering again, how was it he was so bad with girls with a brother like Dean I would never know. "We are leaving town and, you know, we came to say goodbye."

"What are you talking around Sam," Dean butted in suddenly. "We're sticking around for at least another day or two." What was he talking about? We were already packed up, all we had to do was put the bags in the trunk and we could leave. Dean made a big show of getting his wallet out his pocket and I connected the dots. "Oh, Sam, by the way, I'm gonna go ahead and give you that twenty dollars I owe you." He looked at Sarah. "I always forget, you know." Dean had tricked us into coming here when he had his wallet all along just so he could get Sam a date. Dean pressed the dollars into Sam's hand, Sam glaring hard as he made the same realization.

"Alright, well you two crazy kids have fun." I said quickly, dragging Dean away by his arm. I pulled out my phone. "I wonder if I can get Derek to,"

Dean snagged my phone. "Is this Derek guy your boyfriend?" Dean sneered.

My face turned red, "He's not my boyfriend!" I wailed, snatching my phone back.

"So what, he's a friends with benefits kind of deal." Dean demanded. Nobody could touch his baby sister without ending up on the other end of his pistol.

"No he's not!" I snapped. "I don't have to explain myself to you, I'm an adult! And for the record, he happens to be one of the first guys I've met that I don't share blood with that has any kind of decency!"

Dean scoffed, "He's just playing you!"

I gasped. "I can tell the difference!" I shouted, hand clenched around my phone tight enough to almost break it. "You think I've never been played before! Well let me tell you, I have. Excuse me for enjoying the way he looks at me like I'm more than just some doll he can have fun with and ditch seconds later!" I could feel tears brimming in the corners of my eyes even though I blinked rapidly to try pushing them back.

Dean's eyes widened. The last thing he'd wanted to do was make her cry. He grabbed her by her shoulders. "Tell me who they were? Give me a list of names and I'll go kill everyone that hurt you." He said completely seriously.

I rolled my eyes, finally succeeding in pushing back my tears and pushed his off. "Trust me, that long list of people would leave us standing here for the next year."

"Well how do you know this guy isn't the same as all the others." Dean questioned forcefully.

I turned away from him, hands on my hips. "I trust my own judgement, and I'm not like some naive teenager. Maybe you should start to trust me."

"I do trust you!" Dean protested, throwing his hands in the air. "Trust me, guys are nothing but trouble!"

I crossed my arms and started tapping my foot in irritation. "You're a guy!"

"And that's exactly how I know!"

Sam suddenly came running up in a panic. "Dean! Chris!" He slammed to a stop when he noticed we hadn't left yet! "We've got a problem!" He quickly pulled us to the car to explain he'd just seen the portrait we thought we'd burned to a crisp being loaded up, good as new. "I don't understand! We burned the damn thing."

"Thank you Captain Obvious." Dean said sarcastically. "We just need to figure out another way to get rid of it."

"Great, so does anyone have any ideas?" I asked from the edge of my seat in the backseat. "Because I'm tapped out."

"Well in almost al the more about haunted paintings, it's always the painting subject that haunts them." Sam recited from the recent research.

"So we just need to figure out everything there is to know about that creepy ass family and that creepy ass painting." Dean sighed heavily. Well he wasn't wrong about that. "What were their names again?"

We found ourselves at a second hand book store looking for any information on the people in the pairing. "You said Isaiah Merchant family, right?" The age old owner looking a little to excited as he returned from the back with a dusty book that I was pretty sure weighed more than me.

"Yes sir." I agreed, we having spent several minutes before entering to remember exactly what that name was. I was sitting across from Sam at one of the free tables we snagged upon entering. Dean came around the corner of the book shelf, flipping through his own dusty book of old guns.

The man eagerly dropped the heavy book of old newspaper clippings on the table hard enough for it to shake. "I dug up every scrap of local history I could find." I wanted to kill the guy already just because he sounded way to chipper and I was in a bad mood from my fight with Dean. "So are the three of you crime buffs?" He wished, I scoffed.

"Kinda," Dean agreed, going along with it. "Why do you ask?" The man held up one of the newspaper articles. This one was about the titanic sinking in 1912. Then he pointed to a side article at the bottom of a family who died on titanic: Father Slaughters Family, Kills Himself.' "Yeah, that sounds about right." Dean said after reading it.

"The whole family was killed." Sam said surprised.

I leaned a hand on my chin. "Why so surprise? We've heard of worse." Like when a mother ritualistically sacrificed her infant child and thought it was a good thing and she did nothing wrong.

"It seems this Isaiah, he slits his kids throats, then his wife, then himself." The man looked quite excited to know these facts. "Now he was a barber by trade, used a straight razor." That's it. I was doing my own haircut myself and not by any professional small town business.

"Why'd he do it?" Sam asked.