Chapter 10
Provenance
Content Warning: language and violence
DISCLAIMER: any words or phrases in bold in the story are not my own and are credited to the writers of Supernatural.
The bar was buzzing that Friday night. Mostly filled with 20-somethings, the live band played over the chatter. It was slightly crowded and smelt of spilled liquor.
Riley sat with Sam as he checked newspapers for possible cases. She was fighting to keep recent events off her mind. Obsessing over the questions with no answers wouldn't help.
She was enjoying the band. Riley's knees were crossed and her foot swayed and bounced to the music. The mixed drink in her hand had a small red straw that she kept close to her mouth. It was fruitier than her usuals, but it was damn good.
Dean was over at the bar getting more drinks and talking to an attractive blonde woman. She seemed to be flirting with the hunter. Sam gave a scoff and looked at Riley. "Doesn't that bother you?"
"What? The blonde? Pfft. Honey, I am not threatened by her in the least." Riley gave a playful smile as she turned towards the bar. "Besides, I trust Dean."
After the woman handed him a napkin, she grazed Dean's arm as he walked away. He sat down with his family and flung the napkin on the table. A phone number was written on it with a heart. "That–is for you, my friend." Dean's cocky smile was too big for his own good as he looked at his brother.
"Oh, yeah. And she didn't seem at all interested in you." Sam let out a breathy laugh as he kept reading.
"I told her, I'm a locked down man." Leaning over, he kissed Riley before going back to his conversation. "Look, man. I'm just trying to help you out here."
"Thanks, but I don't need your help getting dates, Dean."
"Well, you're not doing so well on your own that's for sure." Riley's foot gave Dean's shin a tap and he looked at her. "What?"
Sam looked irritated and his voice confirmed it. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"He didn't mean anything by it, Sam," Riley added as she shot Dean a look. He put his hands up in surrender. "Anyway, show Dean what you found."
Pulling the newspaper back in front of him, Sam replied, "Alright, Mark and Ann Telesca of New Paltz, New York, were both found dead in their home just a few days ago. Throats were slit, no prints, no murder weapons, and all doors and windows were locked from the inside."
"Could just be your garden-variety murder," Dean added as he sipped at his glass.
With the straw slightly in her mouth, Riley swiveled in his direction. "Eh, not according to your dad."
Dean suddenly became more engaged at the mention of John. "What do you mean?"
Sam turned John's hunter's journal to face his brother and show him the opened page. "Dad noted three murders in the same area of upstate New York. First one, 1912. The second one in 1945, and the third in 1970. Exact same thing as the Telesca's. Houses were locked from the inside, throats were slit, etcetera. But so much time had passed between each murder that no one could see a pattern."
"Well, except for John," Riley interrupted.
"Right. He was always keeping an eye out for another one."
"And now we got one." This case had Dean's attention knowing that this was a pet project of his dad's.
"Mm-hmm," Riley agreed through sipping her drink. She sighed after she swallowed. "Not gonna lie, this one definitely seems worth checking out."
"We can't pick this up till first thing, though, right?" Dean downed the rest of his glass.
Sam looked back at him. "Unfortunately, yeah."
"Great." Walking over to stand behind Riley he moved her hair and exposed her neck. He hovered over her neck and his breath got heavy. "Because I have a smoking hot girl I gotta get alone ASAP." Dean kissed her gently under her ear. The heat coming from his mouth sent somersaults through her stomach.
Chuckling at them, Sam waved the couple off. "Yes, please leave if you're gonna be all over the woman who is practically my sister."
Riley stood with a grin on her face as she tossed her favorite leather jacket over her shoulder. She leaned over and kissed Sam on the cheek. "Love you too, bro."
As they turned to leave, Dean draped his arm over her shoulder. He whispered something in her ear that made her giggle and playfully push him away.
—
Sam came out of an old Victorian style home. The Impala waited parked at the curb as Dean and Riley sat curled up in the back seat. They were both asleep. The young Winchester leaned in through the window with a mischievous smile as he blared the horn. Both hunters jumped and gasped, startled by the noise. Sam laughed and got in the driver's seat.
"Oh, Sam…" Riley held her forehead. "Not cool."
Dean's sunglasses covered his eyes as he glared at his brother. "Yeah. Dick move, dude."
Still coming down from the hilarity of his prank, Sam filled them in. "I just swept the Telesca house with the EMF. It's clean. And last night while you two were 'out'…"
Turning towards Riley, Dean chuckled. "Mm. Good times." She gave him a flirty look and kissed his neck.
"…I checked the history of the house. No hauntings, no violent crimes, nothing strange about the Telescas themselves, either."
Fighting through her hangover, Riley tried to engage in the case. "Well, if it's not the place or the people, maybe it's one of the contents of the house. Cursed object?"
Sam shook his head. "Nope. House is empty. No furniture or anything."
A disoriented Dean looked back at him. "Where's all their stuff?"
—
The dirty Impala sat among expensive cars. Mostly sporty styles and convertibles. A host guided guests to the entrance of an auction gallery as valets parked their cars. Classical music swept through the air giving the event an all too classy feel.
Attendees of the auction were dressed in suits and formal attire. Chatter about the auction sent whispers through the room. The entire place was filled with antiques and priceless collectibles.
In jeans, canvas, boots, and leather, the hunters stood out like sore thumbs as they walked around.
"Silent auctions, estate sales–it's like a garage sale for W.A.S.P.s, if you ask me." Dean grabbed an hors-d'oeuvre from a passing waiter and tossed it into his mouth.
A gentleman in a black suit and tie interrupted them. "Can I help you three?"
Still chewing his food, Dean used a mocking fancy voice to reply, "I'd like some champagne, please."
Riley turned her head as a laughing snort escaped the back of her throat.
"He's not the waiter." Sam knew Dean had just embarrassed them and maybe even ruined their chances there. "I'm Sam Connors,"Sam said as he extended his hand towards the man. Seeing that his handshake was declined, he awkwardly pulled his hand back. "This is my brother Dean and our sister, Riley. We're art dealers with Connor's Limited."
"You're art dealers?" the man asked in disbelief. "I'm Daniel Blake. This is my auction house. This is a private showing, and I don't remember seeing you three on the guest list."
"We're there, Chuckles." Dean was enjoying his sarcastic behavior. "You just need to take another look."
A waiter carrying a tray of champagne walked by as Dean stole a glass. He sniffed the glass in a ridiculous manner and offered his arm to Riley in jest. She raised her head playing along and hooked onto him, stifling her laughter as they walked away.
Finding the items from the Telesca estate, the three split up to look at what remained of the couple's home. But they all stopped in front of the same painting one by one. It was of a family. A husband and wife sat with their three children, one girl, and two boys. One child held a sailboat and the girl held a doll as the father's hand rested on her shoulder and gazed down at her. An out of place barber's blade sat on the table beside them next to a lamp.
"A fine example of American primitive, wouldn't you say?" A voice spoke out from behind them making Riley and the Winchesters turn. A woman in an elegant black cocktail dress came down a winding staircase. Her brown hair was up and her facial features were delicate with a berry lipstick painted across her lips.
Sam smirked. "Well, I'd say it's more Grant Wood than Grandma Moses…but you knew that. You just wanted to see if I did."
"Guilty," she confessed with a smile. "I'm Sarah Blake."
"I'm Sam." They shook hands and Riley could feel the tension between them. Sam was definitely attracted to the woman. "This is my brother and sister, Dean and Riley."
Trying not to give away that she knew too much, Riley smiled and shook her hand. Dean continued to chew away on the mini quiche he had found.
"So, can I help you with something?" Sarah asked trying to hide her somewhat flirty tone.
"Actually, yeah. What can you tell us about the Telesca estate?"Sam tried to play it cool as he spoke to the beautiful woman.
She took a deep breath and exhaled. "Well, if you ask me? I think it's in poor taste selling their things this soon. But dad insists the sensationalism will bring out the crowds."
Sam couldn't contain the smile that grew on his face. "Is it possible to see the provenances?"
The gentleman that Dean had offended earlier, interrupted them."I'm afraid there isn't any chance of that." His face was stern and his grey hair was well groomed. "You're not on the guest list, and I think it's time for you to leave."
"We don't want any trouble," Sam answered. "We'll go." The three turned to leave as he gave Sarah one last look.
—
The motel room door opened as Sam, Dean, and Riley walked in. Finn spun in a circle wagging his tail in excitement to see them. Riley found a spot on the floor to give him cuddles and plant kisses all over his head. The boys took off their jackets and shoes.
"So, Sam…" Riley started. Finn's collar jingled as she massaged his neck. "Grandma Moses? Grant Wood?" Her words were playful and she was amused with herself.
"Art History course. It's good for meeting girls," Sam answered with a smile.
Dean scoffed. "It's like I don't even know you." His face scrunched as he tried to reabsorb the room they had been shocked by earlier when they checked in. It was silver and black with a strange almost disco-modern twist. Parts of the walls and furniture were a shiny metal that glistened in the light. Turning back to his brother he asked, "so what was this 'providence' thing?"
Sam chuckled as he re-pronounced the word. "Provenance. It's kind of like a biography of the piece. We can use them to track their history. You know, see if anything's got a freaky past."
"Well, we're not gonna get any help from Chuckles." The older Winchester got a kick out of his nickname for the wealthy gentleman.
"You know," Riley started as she stood up. "I have a feeling we can always get Sarah's help." She turned to Sam and raised her eyebrow.
Dean worked to unpack his gear and agreed. "True. It wasn't my ass she was checking out, dude." He picked up his cell phone and handed it to his brother. "Call her, dammit."
—
After a night out, Sam relaxed back in the room with his family. He had taken off his nice dress blazer and his pale blue long sleeved shirt was loosely unbuttoned. Sarah had been his date for the evening and it had gone surprisingly well.
As he went through the papers in front of him he told Dean and Riley about his night. "We had a nice time, actually. She's cool. Went back to her place and talked and she gave me copies of the provenances."
Sitting in the chair next to him, with a beer in hand, Riley nudged him. "You like this girl, Sam." She smiled. "I don't need to be an empath to see how into her you are."
There was still a part of Sam that clung to Jessica. She was the woman he was supposed to be with. The idea of getting into something with someone else almost felt wrong. He quickly changed the subject. "Hey, alright I think I found something here."
Dean made his way over to the table to sit with his partners. He and Riley leaned in to look it over as he read. "Portrait of Isaiah Merchant's family painted 1910."
"Now check the dates with dad's journal."
The journal sat beside them as Dean compared the rest of the dates. "First purchased in 1912 to Peter Sims. Dad had that Peter Sims died in 1912. Same thing in 1945 and the same in 1970."
"Then stored," Sam added. "Until it was donated to a charity auction last month, where the Telescas bought it."
"Hmm. So what are we thinking? Haunted or cursed?" Riley took another sip from her beer.
Dean scoffed. "I think, either way, the thing's toast."
—
The team had left in a hurry and made their way back to the auction house. Large and tall iron gates stood at the entrance, locked with a chain. The brothers looked up.
"Alright, sweetheart. You need a boost?"
Before Dean could finish turning towards Riley, she charged at the gate and climbed up. From the top, she swung over and dropped to the other side. She grunted as her feet hit solid ground. Riley turned to look at them through the bars as she caught her breath. "Do you, need a boost, babe?" Her smile lit a fire in Dean as she shot a look back at him. He couldn't get over the gate fast enough to be at her side. Sam followed behind him.
As soon as he dropped, he looked at her with desire in his eyes. "Munroe, that was one of the hottest friggin' things I have ever seen."
"Oh, you ain't seen nothing yet, Winchester." She gave him a flirty wink as she began to jog up towards the main building.
Dean made a quick look over to Sam. "I'm gonna marry that woman."
A small laugh came from his little brother as they both ran to meet up with the fiery auburn-haired woman ahead of them.
The alarm was on and Sam worked to cut the right cords to disconnect it as Dean picked the lock. With the door open, the three went inside. Flashlights in hand, they moved to find the painting. Black gloves were on their hands to ensure they left no trace of them being there.
"Hey," Riley spoke in a hushed tone to get their attention. She shined her light up to the balcony and there it was.
They were on a mission to get in and out and rushed up the winding metal staircase. Dean took off a glove and held it with his teeth as he flipped open his pocket knife. He cut around the frame to release the painting. Rolling it up, Dean and the others moved fast to get out.
Once they had reached the dirt parking lot, they laid the piece of art on the ground. Dean struck a match.
"Ugly-ass thing. If you ask me, we're doing the art world a favor." He tossed the lit stick onto the painting and it went up in flames.
Little did they know that at that same moment, the painting reconstructed itself in its original frame.
—
"We got a problem," Dean stated coming out of the bathroom in a huff. "I can't find my wallet."
"And how is that my problem?" Sam teased.
"'Cause I think I dropped it in the warehouse last night."
Riley's eyes grew. "Oh, shit. Are you serious?"
"Deadly." Dean hurried to put his jacket on to leave. "I mean, it's got my prints, my I.D.–well, my fake I.D. anyway. But we gotta go get it before somebody else finds it. Come on." Flinging open the door, he headed for the car.
Sam looked at Riley in irritation as they followed him. The blue-eyed hunter gave Finn a final rub on the head as she put on her own jacket and closed the door behind them.
—
It was the middle of the late morning and once again, the hunters didn't blend into their surroundings at the auction house. Not only were they never appropriately dressed, appropriately, but now they were scurrying about scavenging for Dean's wallet.
"How do you lose your wallet, Dean?" Sam couldn't believe his brother's stupidity.
Sarah walked by and beamed at the sight of Sam. "Hey, guys!" She walked in their direction.
Panic came over the young Winchester as he saw her. He tried to pull himself together and gave her an awkward smile. "Sarah. Hey."
"What are you doing here?" she asked.
Behind him, Dean and Riley tried to lean casually on a statue beside them. It began to wobble and they grabbed it to steady it again. They tried to remain inconspicuous and were failing miserably.
"Oh, uh…we're leaving town. And you know, we came to say goodbye."
"That's not true Sam." Riley came up behind him and pat him on the arm. "We said we were gonna stick around another day or two." She looked at Sarah and took a moment to let her empathic skills work their magic. The woman was thrilled to see Sam and butterflies flapped in her stomach looking at him. Riley could feel how genuine her crush on her brother was and the same feelings were coming from Sam. She had to once again try to hide her smile.
Dean made his way over to them. "Yeah, that's right. Oh, and before I forget again," Dean pulled cash from his wallet and gave Sam a pleased look. "Here's that twenty bucks I owe ya." Sam yanked it from his hand realizing the wallet had finally been found. "Well, we'll leave you, two crazy kids, alone. We gotta go do something…somewhere…" He turned to see Riley's smirk and whispered in her ear. "Shut up." Taking her hand they walked away.
When it was finally just the two of them, Sarah looked up at Sam and flashed him a sweet smile. "I had a really great time last night."
"Yeah, I did too."
"Maybe, we should do it again, sometime?"
Uncertainty and sadness came over Sam that he desperately tried to hide. "You know, I'd love to. I really would. But Riley–she was just screwing around we really are taking off today."
"Oh. Well…that's too bad," Sarah replied fighting to cover her disappointment.
As Sam looked over her shoulder, he saw the painting once again. It looked as though it had never been harmed in any way. "Oh my god!" he shouted in shock.
"What?"
Realizing his outburst, Sam worked to recover from it. "That painting…uh–it looks so good."
"If you can call that monstrosity good, then yeah, I guess." Sarah was feeling awkward after Sam's reaction and didn't know what to say.
"Sarah, what do you know about that painting?" He was speaking quickly and in a state of shock.
"Not much. Just that it creeps me out. We sold it to the Telescas at a charity auction the night they were murdered."
In almost a tone of defense and frustration, Sam asked, "and now you're just gonna sell it again?"
"Well, as much as my father wants to, I won't let him. I just don't think it's appropriate."
Sam still rushed his words. "Good, yeah. You know what? Don't. Don't. Make sure you don't okay?"
Scoffing, Sarah asked, "why? Oh god, don't tell me you're interestedin that thing."
"No, God, no. Not in buying it, no. You know what? I gotta go. I gotta take care of something. But um, I'll call you back. I will call you. I'll see you later."
A huge smile came over Sarah. "Wait, so you're not leaving tonight?"
"No," he chuckled uncomfortably. "I guess not. I'll see ya." Sam hurried out the door.
Baby's doors creaked and slammed shut as the hunters got back into the car.
"What the hell?" Sam's voice was still slightly panicked. "I don't understand. We burned the damn thing."
Dean's mouth hung open agape. "Yeah, well thank you, Captain Obvious."
"Okay," Riley said taking a calming breath. "We just gotta find another way to get rid of it, right?" She paused. "Any ideas…?" Sam and Dean sat in silence. "Well, in practically all the lore about haunted paintings, the subject is what haunts them, right?"
"So, we need to figure out everything there is to know about that creepy-ass family in that creepy-ass painting. What were their names again?" Dean turned to them both waiting for an answer.
—
Finn's muzzle moved through his food as Riley and the boys found themselves back in the motel room. Sitting around the table they discussed their findings from their research.
"So the whole family was slaughtered. Isaiah slit his kids' throats, then his wife's and then himself. Classy guy," Riley added. "Anyway, it was him, the missus, their two sons, and their daughter." With a look of cringe, she continued, "the guy was a barber and he used a straight razor. Blegh."
"But why?" Sam asked.
Dean pulled up a copy of an old newspaper article. "Well, people who knew the guy described Isaiah as having a 'stern and harsh temperament. Said he controlled his family with an iron fist'." He sighed as he put it back down. "And the family was cremated. …great."
"Guys, hold on a second." Sam flipped over a copy of the same painting from the museum that he had found. Only in that one, the father was looking ahead and not down at the little girl. "The painting at the auction house? The dad is looking down. Painting here? Dad is looking out. The painting has changed!"
"So, what? You think daddy-dearest is stuck in the painting and handing out Columbian Neckties like he did with his family?"
"Well, yeah it seems like it. But if his bones are already dusted, how are we gonna stop him?"
Riley looked at it and thought. "If Isaiah's position could change, then maybe something else in the painting changed too. Maybe it'll give us other clues." She shrugged.
"We gotta get back to that painting." Dean got up and laid on the bed with his hands behind his head. "Now that we're sticking around some more, might give you some time with the girl you're crushing on so hard, huh?
"Dean," Sam was irritated. "What do you care if I hook up? Why does it matter so much?"
"Maybe you wouldn't be so fucking cranky all the time if you did."
Feeling tensions rise, Riley flopped herself down on the other bed as Finn jumped up to join her. "Sam, you like this girl right? Maybe you could actually have something with her, you know?"
"She's right. I think this Sarah girl might be good for you." Dean sat up to look at his brother. "And I don't mean any disrespect, but I'm–I'm sure that this is about Jessica, right? Now, I don't know what it's like to lose somebody like that…" his voice trailed off. The thought of losing Riley made him feel physically sick. He turned to look at her and she smiled at him. "…but I would think that she would want you to be happy. God forbid have fun once in a while. Wouldn't she?"
Guilt, longing, grief…they came from Sam like a broken dam. Riley looked at him feeling it all until they slowly shifted. Hope, love, and nostalgia grew inside him as the left side of his lip grew into a small smile before it dropped. "Yeah, I know she would." Sam sighed and tried to release his feelings of guilt. "Yeah, you're right. Part of this is about Jessica. But not the main part."
Dean's mouth opened to speak as Riley cleared her throat. He looked at her and she shook her head letting him know it was time to let it go. Knowing she was probably right, Dean got up and went to her. Sitting behind Riley, he straddled her with his legs. He wrapped his arms around her before kissing the side of her head."Well, we still got to see that painting, which means you still gotta call, Sarah."
Sam sighed and picked up his phone. He had to work up the courage to do it.
Squeezing Riley, Dean put his face in the crook of her neck and whispered, "don't ever leave me, okay?"
She could feel the emotion behind his words. Turning her head she looked at him and kissed him. "You're stuck with me, Winchester."
He sat back against the headboard, guiding her with him. Riley's head rested on his chest as his arms held her close as her fingers traced over his hands. When they were like that, he knew she was safe. That he could protect her. The thought of a world without Riley scared him as much as losing Sam.
Finally, the lone Winchester cleared his throat and dialed Sarah's number. "Hey, Sarah. Hi…yeah it's good to hear from you too. How are you?…yeah I'm good, I'm good. Listen, my family and I were thinking that maybe we'd like to come back in and look at the painting again. I think we maybe are interested in buying it."
The energy in the room changed and Riley could feel it. She shot up quickly seeing Sam's face fall and a look of worry was written all over him.
"Wait, what?" he asked Sarah. "Who'd you sell it to? Sarah, I need that address right now."
—
It was late in the night and dark blanketed the property. The Chevy sped onto the long driveway of a quiet house. The tires screeched as it came to a stop and the hunters rushed out of the car. Sarah had arrived there before them and got out of her Jeep.
"Sam, what's happening?"
"I told you, you shouldn't have come."
Hoping they weren't too late, they raced up the porch and to the door. Sarah trailed behind in confusion. The boys banged heavily on the wooden doors and yelled for someone to answer.
Sarah was desperate for answers. "You said Evelyn might be in danger. What kind of danger?"
"I can't knock this sucker down, I gotta pick it." Dean had been using all his might to bust the door open.
"What are you guys, burglars?"
Riley scoffed as she waited for access to the house. "Well," she said in a singsong tone. "It's a little bit more complicated than that, unfortunately."
The second Dean had successfully unlocked the door, he and Riley were the first inside as the other two went in behind them. Sam and Sarah called for Evelyn.
Coming out of the foyer, the darkened living room was lit only by a small light on a side table. A reading chair sat beside it, facing away from them. Evelyn's white hair peeked out over the top of the chair. As they walked further into the house, they saw the painting hung prominently over the fireplace. The only sound they could hear was that of their shoes on the floor as they stepped.
"Evelyn? It's Sarah. Sarah Blake." She reached out her hand towards the shoulder of the woman sitting in the chair. The weight of her hand was all it took for Evelyn's head to fall backward. Her neck had been slit so deeply that she was nearly decapitated. Sarah screamed at the top of her lungs as Sam tried to hold her. "Oh my god! Oh my god!"
The father in the painting moved in front of them as he once again faced out and no longer looked at the little girl.
—
A knock came from the motel door. Dean and Riley were doing research and Sam had been pacing but went to the sound at the door. After it had opened, a frustrated Sarah marched in.
"Hey," Sam started softly. "You alright?"
"No, actually. I just lied to the cops and told them I went to Evelyn's alone and found her like that."
"Thank you."
"Don't thank me. I'm about to call them right back if you don't tell me what the hell is going on. Who's killing these people?"
Looking back at his partners, they nodded to acknowledge it was time to give her "the talk". "What," Sam stated with a sigh.
"What?"
"It's not 'who'. It's 'what' is killing those people." And there it was, the reliable Winchester guilt. Sam knew he was about to change Sarah's life forever by telling her the truth. From that day on, she would really know what was out there. When he saw that she wasn't understanding he went on. "Sarah, you saw that painting move."
"No," Sarah said chuckling at the thought and pacing. "No, I was seeing things. It's impossible."
"Yeah, well…welcome to our world." Dean gave the woman a quick curl of his lip.
Sam put his hands in his pockets and worked up the courage to tell her more. "Sarah, I know this sounds crazy, but we think that that painting is haunted."
Riley cringed feeling the awkwardness in the room. She leaned into Dean, "why is this part always so friggin' uncomfortable?"
When Sarah asked if they were joking, the hunters sat staring back at her with nothing to say. Finn sat up and whined almost feeling awkward himself.
"You're not joking." Sarah released a breathy laugh. "God, the guys I go out with."
Feeling that Sam had already fought to say enough, Riley jumped in. "Sarah, think about it for a minute. Both the Telescas and Evelyn had the painting. And there have been others before. People die wherever this thing goes."
"She's telling the truth," Sam added. "We're just trying to stop it."
With a deep breath, Sarah looked back at the people that had just turned her world upside down. "Well, then I guess you better show me. I'm coming with you."
Gently tugging her jacket, Sam gazed down at her. "No. Please–you should go home. What we do? It's dangerous and…" he paused. "I don't want you to get hurt."
"Look, you guys are probably crazy. But if you're right about this, when my dad and I sold this painting, we might have gotten these people killed. I'm not saying I'm not scared, 'cause I'm scared as hell, but I'm not gonna run and hide either." Turning on her heel, Sarah walked to the door and waited for them to follow before leaving. "So, are we going or what?"
"Sam…" Dean extended his hand to point in her direction. "Marrythat girl." Riley nodded in agreeance with an impressed expression on her face.
—
Police tape blocked off the porch of Evelyn's house. The crime scene was now quiet after the inspection had finally ended. Sam worked to pick the lock.
"Uh, isn't this a crime scene?" Sarah looked around them in discomfort, scared of being caught.
Dean waited for his brother. "Eh, you've already lied to the cops. What's another infraction?"
As the Winchesters got the door open, Riley sat with her hands in her pockets and tipping on her heels looking at her. "Welcome to the team," she joked giving her a fake smile. The girls went inside after them.
Sam immediately went to take the painting down. Sarah fought her urge to look at the blood-soaked chair as memories from the night before flooded her mind.
Riley could feel the fear and anxiety in her and reached her hand to touch her arm. "Hey, we got you, okay?"
Sarah gave a small smile at Riley's comforting words as Sam sat the painting on the couch to get a closer look at it. The father's head had turned to face his daughter since the last time they had seen it.
As the youngest Winchester had his face close to the canvas and looked for clues, Sarah's anxiety grew. "Aren't you worried that it's gonna, you know, kill us?"
"For some reason, it only seems to be active at night. We should be okay in daylight," Sam answered.
Dean and Riley looked over their copy of the painting looking for more changes. She put her finger on the bottom corner as they both looked at the straight razor on the painted table.
"Sam, check it out." Handing it to his brother Dean explained what they found. "The razor–it's closed in this one, but it's open in that one."
With more questions than answers, Sarah asked what they were looking for. In a calm voice, Riley turned to her. "Well, the spirit seems to be changing the painting. Chances are, it's doing it for a reason."
Upon closer inspection of the printed copy, Sam noticed a new clue. "Wait a minute, the painting in the painting. It's different. In the original, it's of a landscape. But in the changed one, there's a crypt or a mausoleum."
Dean grabbed a glass ashtray from the table to make a stand-in magnifying glass. Hovering it over the newest part of the canvas a name appeared. "Merchant."
—
The original group and Sarah walked through a cemetery. People were leaving from recent funerals. The eerie sound of crows came from the surrounding trees. Even in the middle of the day, graveyards never felt like the most welcoming of places.
"This is the third boneyard we've checked," Dean huffed. "I think this ghost is screwing with us. What a dick."
The reality of the last 15 hours still hadn't settled for Sarah. "So…is this what you guys do for a living?"
Sam walked beside her with his hands in his pockets. "Not exactly," he said with a pause. "We don't get paid."
With her hand over her eyes to block the sun, Riley scanned the area before spotting the crypt. "Hey guys, over there," she nodded.
As the four got closer, they could see the name "Merchant" carved in stone. It was an old mausoleum made of stone blocks with pillars bracing the roof on the sides. The doors were a rusted and thick old metal. Luckily, Dean had come prepared with bolt cutters and clipped the chain that held it shut. With a loud squeak, they opened.
Cobwebs blocked the entrance and dust flew out causing them to cough. Dean pushed past the webs and went inside as the others did the same. Old and crumpled leaves had somehow found their way inside and were scattered on the ground. The only light came from a small window to the side. On the opposite side of the room, sat a countertop. Urns with the family's ashes sat across it and above them were encased items in glass.
Riley didn't mind being in places like that. There were no emotions to feel or thoughts to be worried about.
"What the hell have I gotten myself into?" Hearing Sarah's thoughts, Riley rolled her eyes. She had forgotten for a moment she wasn't only among the dead.
Sarah spoke out loud this time. "Okay, that right there is the creepiest thing I've ever seen." She was looking at one of the items encased in glass. Inside was an old doll with a porcelain face.
"That was kind of a tradition at the time." Sam walked to her side. "Whenever a child died, sometimes they'd preserve the kid's favorite toy in a glass case. Put it next to the headstone or in the crypt." One of the other cases contained a baseball glove and one had a sailboat. They were for the small boys.
"Anybody notice anything strange here?" Dean asked.
"The urns," Riley said getting a closer look. "There's only four of them. Mom and her three kids."
"Which means, daddy-dearest isn't here."
"So where the hell is he?"
—
Outside of county records office, Sam and Sarah sat on a small concrete wall, waiting. Riley and Dean had gone inside on a search for death certificates. They needed to find out what happened to Isaiah and where his body had gone.
"How did they even get in the door?" Sarah still couldn't believe all that the group was capable of. She had a million questions in her mind at all times with the hunters.
Sam scoffed with a chuckle. "Uh–lying and subterfuge, mostly."
She returned with a small laugh before they both caught each other's glance. There was a chemistry and they both felt it as they sat in silence.
"Sam, at the risk of being too forward, I gotta ask you something. Am I crazy, or is there something here between us?"
"No, you're definitely not crazy."
"…why do I feel there's a 'but' coming?"
"–but…I don't think this would be a good idea."
"Can I ask why?"
"Because I like you, Sarah."
Sarah smiled but looked confused. "Sam, you've officially lost me." They both laughed.
"Look, it's hard to explain. It's just that when people are around me, I don't know–they get hurt. Like physically hurt. With what my family does, I just–" Sam stopped as he tried to find the words. "Sarah…I had a girlfriend, and she died. My mom died, too. I don't know, it's like I'm cursed or something. Like death just follows me around. There's not a lot that scares me. I just always worry that when I get too close to someone—"
She interjected, "–you're scared they get hurt too."
That was the first time Sam had opened up to anyone other than Dean or Riley. He wanted to be vulnerable with Sarah. A part of him wanted to stay in town and see what could happen between them. He didn't want to be alone forever. Sam had experienced real love before and saw his brother with Riley every day. There wasn't a moment he didn't wish to have that back.
Riley and Dean made their way over to the couple. She could feel a swell of emotions hit her and it almost brought tears to her eyes. As much as they both wanted to allow themselves to feel for each other, Sam's fear kept them apart. Riley put her hand up to Dean's chest to stop him for a moment.
"That's really sweet," Sarah went on. "And ridiculous. I'm not a little girl, Sam. It's not your job to make decisions for me. There's always a chance of getting hurt." Before Sam could stop her, she put her hand up towards his lips. "I know. We're not talking some emotional heartbreak. You're worried about real life and death stuff. But Sam, I could get hit by a bus tomorrow. That's just life." Sarah's voice grew softer as she saw she was finally getting through to Sam. "I lost my mom last year. I know that losing someone you love–there's no pain like it. You shut yourself off, believe me, I know."
"Sarah, you don't understand. The pain that I went through–I can't go through it again. I can't."
Riley looked at her best friend and she tried for the first time in months to send a thought his way. There was a soft interference. It was like what she picked up from Max, the other psychic. But she pushed through and she saw Sam turn in her direction. "Don't be afraid. You risk even more by not letting anyone see how special you are."
A smile hit his face after he realized what had just happened. That was the first time they had connected in that way. The bond between them solidified even more. Riley still didn't understand her abilities or how to control them most of the time. But it seemed that she could share thoughts with those she was closest to. She took that as a gift. Giving Dean the go-ahead, he wrapped his arm around her and they walked over to them.
"So, what'd you get?" Sam's eyes went to his big brother.
"Paydirt. Apparently, the surviving Merchant relatives were so ashamed of Isaiah that they didn't want him interred with the family. So, they handed him over to the county." Dean rolled the documents in his hands to form a tube.
"Guess the county gave him a pauper's funeral. Had to just get rid of him." Riley added. "He definitely wasn't cremated. The guy is in the ground in a pine box."
A moment of hope came over Sam. "That means there are bones to burn. Please tell me you know where."
—
Dirt flung in every direction as Sam and Dean dug into the grave. They grunted and were covered in sweat as they reached the bottom.
With an uncomfortable look, Sarah turned to Riley who had her arms crossed. "So, you guys do this whole 'grave digging' thing a lot?"
"Nah," she shook her head. "I'm too pretty to dig." Riley gave a satisfied grin. There was that awkward silence again. "Oh, c'mon. You're telling me you don't find it slightly sexy as hell watching them right now?"
They both giggled as a loud crashing came from in the hole. Sam and Dean had found the buried body and broke open the wooden coffin with their shovels.
As they crawled out, Riley grabbed a large container of salt from their gear bag. She made her way around the grave and made sure to cover the bones. Sam took a can of gasoline and poured it over the opened coffin.
"Well, Isaiah, you've been a real pain in the ass." Dean struck a match. "Good riddance," he finished, tossing the match into the grave.
—
Baby's gentle purr once again pulled into the driveway of the now deceased, Evelyn. Sam had gone inside to retrieve the painting so they could bury it. Sarah insisted on going in with him.
Dean and Riley sat with the engine still running. He looked over at her. "Twenty bucks says he finally makes a move."
"You know I'm kind of psychic, right?"
"Are you suggesting I don't know my own brother?"
"It's your money, Winchester. You're on." She smirked as Dean chuckled.
In the house, the couple stood in front of the painting still hung above the fireplace. They both stared at it and there was an immediate moment of worry.
"Sam, I know you're the ghost expert here and it's just my first day, but is the painting supposed to look like that?" Sarah's heart began to race in her chest as she noticed the little girl was missing, along with the straight razor.
Sam knew they had missed something as the echoes of a child's giggles blew through the house.
As Riley and Dean waited in the car, the front door slammed shut of its own accord. Both didn't need to speak a word before scurrying up the steps. Dean rushed the door and made contact with his shoulder. He fought, again and again, to open it as Riley began to panic.
On the other side of the door, Sam yelled, "guys, is that you?"
"Yeah!" Dean shouted. "Sammy, you alright?"
Riley realized they couldn't hear each other well through the door and she fumbled for her phone to call him.
"Riley!"
"Sam, please tell us you're the one that slammed the front door."
"No, it wasn't me. I think it was the little girl. The one from the painting. She's gone! I think it might have been her all along."
"Hold up. The dad was looking down at her right? What if he was trying to warn us?" As Riley put together the pieces with Sam, Dean picked at the lock.
"Let's recap later, just get us the fuck out of here."
"We're working on it, Sam. The door won't budge."
Dean turned to face her. "What's he saying?"
"He wants us to break down the door."
With sarcasm, Dean shouted, "okay, genius! Let me grab my battering ram!"
"The damn thing's coming!" Sam's voice began to shake.
Dean continued his assault against the door and Riley was still talking to their brother. "We're trying. You gotta hold it off. Salt or iron, find it now!"
Inside, Sarah and Sam ran around looking for items to defend themselves. Sam shouted for her to find something made of pure iron as he searched for salt.
"What kind of house doesn't have any salt? Low sodium freaks.Riley, don't hang up."
"I'm here, Sam."
The doors to the living room shut with a loud bang and the two gasped. A strong wind blew in the house and papers flew through the opened space. Sarah shook in fear and Sam turned to face the only opened area.
A small girl in a white dress with long flowing curly hair, drug her doll on the ground beside her. Her other hand wielded the barber's blade as she made her way towards them. The daughter's face was pale and her eyes were encircled in black. She flickered faster than a blink as she suddenly appeared closer to them.
"Holy shit! That is just so wrong," Sarah stated as she looked at the girl.
They had been nearly backed into a corner and Sam blocked her in an attempt to keep her safe. Taking another step back, his legs clanked against something. He looked down to see the instruments to stoke the fireplace and grabbed the poker to arm himself.
The girl's face began to turn to something evil as it rapidly moved in every direction. Sam lunged at her and took a full swing with the iron in his hands. In an instant, she was gone and the wind had stopped.
A shout came from the phone that he had sat on the chair beside them. "Sam! Dammit, Sam! Are you okay?"
Picking it up he replied, "yeah. Yeah, we're good."
"They're ok, Dean." Riley had put the phone to the side to talk to the anxious Winchester.
He sighed in relief as she went back to the call. "That kid's gonna give me another heart attack." Dean collected himself in a hurry. "Alright, how do we waste her?"
"There's nothing left to burn," Sam told Riley after overhearing Dean. "She was cremated. There's gotta be something else."
Sarah knew her art history and she had an epiphany. "Sam! We used to handle antique dolls at the auction. Back then, they used to make the dolls in the kid's image. Down to the last detail. Like, they would use the kid's real hair."
Riley had gotten tired of relaying information and groaned at herself. She realized they could have been on speakerphone the whole time. Dean got close as he listened in.
The youngest Winchester's voice came through the phone. "Guys, Sarah says they might have used the girl's real hair on the doll. Human remains, right? Same as bones?"
"The mausoleum," both Riley and Dean said in unison as they fled to the car.
Alone at the house now, Sam and Sarah felt that same strong wind blow their way. Papers again began to fly and scurry across the ground as the evil echo of laughter returned.
—
Driving like a bat out of hell, Dean drove Baby with reckless abandon. He crashed through the gates of the now-closed graveyard and broke them open. Riley held on tight as she turned to her partner. His brow was furrowed and the road ahead had his complete focus.
As the roar of the engine continued, Riley smiled devilishly his way. "Later on, think you can drive me as well as you're driving her?"
He shot a quick look in her direction before chuckling. "Oh, honey, you better hold on tight," Dean quipped back cockily. His voice was husky and primal as a hint of a smirk curled at his lips. Dean's foot pressed even harder into the pedal as they sped onto the grassy terrain. A quick moment of arousal hit them both before snapping back to reality as they hurried to save Sam and Sarah.
Dean stopped the car directly in front of the mausoleum. The headlights were still on, guiding them towards their destination. The two sprinted towards the stone structure and tore open the doors.
Inside, Dean went in the direction of the encased doll. Banging on the glass with his fist, nothing happened. He shouted at Riley, "cover your eyes!"
Listening to his instructions, she did so and he covered his own as he fired his weapon into the glass. The bullet had gone through and he used the gun to shatter the rest.
As he grabbed the doll, Riley tossed her lighter in his direction. He caught it effortlessly. It was almost like he knew when she would throw it without even looking her way. Flicking it open, the lighter flickered but refused to fully light. "Come on, come on," he groaned in anxiety.
—
Back at the house, Sam and Sarah were in a struggle for their lives. The spirit sent furniture flying in their direction and had thrown both around the room. Sam desperately tried to protect Sarah in the middle of the chaos. But the ghost was powerful and continued to show him no mercy.
The full apparition of the evil girl showed itself again. She was determined to end the lives of the couple before her. Her hunger to kill grew as she flickered again in their direction. Her blade was readied and Sam covered Sarah as best he could, preparing for the blow.
Before she could strike, the Merchant's daughter burst into flames. The fire swallowed her as the doll had finally been destroyed. The painting on the wall had returned to its original state and the spirit was now at rest.
Sam and Sarah were almost in a state of shock after their brush with death. His phone rang twice before he answered.
"Sam! You good?" Riley's voice was stressed on the other end as she waited for a reply.
"Not bad," he replied. As the phone disconnected and flipped shut, Sam and Sarah sat trying to catch their breaths.
—
The next day, Sarah had ordered the painting to be boxed up. She and Sam oversaw it ensuring things would go as planned this time. The men that worked there had been ordered to take it out back and burn it.
Riley and Dean walked in, playful together as always. When they reached the others, Dean tried to pull himself into focus. "So, we went and checked out the county records about the Merchant's adopted daughter, Melanie."
"Adopted, you ask?" Riley hinted. "Her real family was murdered in their beds. Little Melanie was a bitch, apparently."
Sarah looked back at the painting before it closed shut. "Wait. So it was the little girl the whole time?"
Dean nodded. "Yup. She took out her own family and then did the same thing to the Merchants. Only that time, Isaiah took the fall. His spirit's been trying to warn people ever since."
"So why'd the girl do it?" Sarah still felt so in the dark about all that had happened even after living it herself.
Sam turned to face her. "Killing others–killing herself? Some people are just born tortured. So when they die, their spirits are just as dark."
"Maybe. I don't really care, honestly," Dean added. "It's over. We move on."
With a sigh through her smile, Sarah looked longingly at Sam. "I guess that means you're leaving."
Not knowing what to say, he just exhaled deeply. Riley could feel the yearning that flew between them. Even in the silence, the fire they felt for each other nearly crackled in her ears. "Let's go wait in the car, Dean." Riley hooked onto his arm. "Take care, Sarah." With a small wave, Dean followed her cue to go.
He looked at her and spoke under his breath. "We're the ones that burned the doll, and destroyed the spirit, but do we get any thanks? No…" he drug out.
They headed for the car and Dean opened Riley's door for her. Before she got in, she looked back at Sam saying goodbye to Sarah. The main door closed behind him and he trudged to the Impala with his head hung.
Riley hated seeing him like that and attempted another telepathic message to him. "Sam, if you don't do something, you're gonna regret it. Now, turn your ass around!" She smiled at him and he chuckled at the thought before spinning around and running back up to the door.
Sam knocked on the door and it was quickly answered by Sarah. Her smile was infectious and filled with joy seeing him come back. He put a hand on the side of her face and pulled her in for a kiss. They melted into each other and smiled against each other's lips.
"That's my boy." Dean beamed with pride for his little brother.
Riley was so thrilled for Sam. But she turned off her empathic ability towards him to let him have the moment to himself. She faced Dean and kissed him before pulling away with a smirk and extending her hand. "Twenty bucks. Cough it up."
"What? No way! You just saw them!" Dean whined.
"Nuh-uh. The agreement was that he was gonna make a move lastnight. Unfortunately, they were too wrapped up in surviving a serial killer ghost to do that." She feigned a pout and kept her hand out.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Alright, you win." Dean took out his wallet to give her the money before putting it back in his pocket. He gave her a quick kiss on the forehead admitting defeat. Dean then headed for the driver's side.
"Oh, and Dean," Riley said before they got in. "Don't forget, you promised to take me for a drive." Her eyes were filled with lust and she bit her lip before getting in the car.
Taking a moment to himself, Dean smiled and licked his lips. "I am one lucky son of a bitch."
—