Safe and Sound

by CaptainMjolnir

Julia Petersen has stood with the Winchesters since the beginning. Having been friends with the brothers for most of her life, her destiny finally arrives when she joins them to find their missing father. Rewrite. Dean x OC Sam x OC

13. Found Each Other

[1x19; Provenance]

Julia tapped her manicured nails against the surface of the table to the beat of the song playing through the bar that she and the Winchester brothers were hanging out in. She hardly paid attention to John's journal in front of her, even though she was supposed to be looking up something for Sam. Her eyes were at the bar, where Dean stood flirting with a pretty brunette woman.

She wasn't bothered by it, not really. Yes, she liked Dean but she also knew that he considered her as his little sister. Really, the only reason she was irritated was because he had been sent to the bar to get them drinks and had yet to come back with them even though she saw the bartender give him the drinks more than five minutes ago.

If she had to watch Dean flirt with a bunch of women, she didn't want to be completely sober.

"Did you find the names?" Sam's question brought her out of her thoughts.

"Yeah," she answered quickly, pushing the journal back over to him. "There you go."

Sam studied the names—and each paragraph John wrote about the people and their death—and then nodded, tapping the page. He looked up in Dean's direction and waved for his attention. Despite the fact that Dean saw him, he continued flirting with the girl, smirking attractively.

Sam impatiently waved at him again; the smile on Dean's face dropped as he said something to the woman, grabbed their drinks from in front of him, and walked back over to the table they stole an hour ago.

Dean slid Julia's fuzzy navel over to her before setting down Sam's beer.

"Oh, look, the ice melted," Julia commented sarcastically, playfully raising her eyebrows at him while taking the straw between her fingers to stir the drink. "Just the way I like it. Thanks, Dean."

Dean winked at her. "You're welcome, Junior."

Julia popped the straw in her mouth and started drinking, enjoying the orange and peach flavor.

"All right, I think we got something," Sam told Dean.

"Oh, yeah, me too," Dean glanced back at the brunette he left at the bar. "I think we need to take a short leave for just a little bit. What do you think? I'm so in the door with this one."

"So, what are we today, Dean?" Sam set down the newspaper he had been studying for the past half-hour. "I mean, are we rock stars or army rangers?"

Dean grinned widely. "Reality TV scouts looking for people with special skills," he told Sam eagerly. Julia snickered and Sam and Dean joined in her laughter. "I mean, hey, it's not that far off, right?"

Sam shrugged.

"I don't understand," Julia piped in, taking another pull of her drink. "I mean, why do you have to lie?"

Dean gave her look that told her he thought that she was crazy. "You're kidding right?"

"No, I meant it in a way that you shouldn't have to lie about who you are," Julia elaborated. "You're hot and you have a somewhat nice personality. You shouldn't have to make up a story."

Dean grinned at her and rested his elbows on the table, leaning closer to her. "I'm sorry, I didn't hear anything after you called me hot."

Julia fought back her eyeroll—even when he was flirting he was such a little shit—and curled her lips seductively as she coyly played with her straw. Dean's eyes dropped down to her lips to the cleavage her white v-neck showed off, and then down to her hands, following her fingers' movements. Julia's self-esteem shot up a little bit when he bit his lip and his green eyes darkened as she pulled the straw to her lips.

The whole situation was getting intense and she could feel Dean's energy shifting into something lustful and primal. The sexual tension between them could be cut with a knife and she saw Sam looked away with a small smile.

She took another drink of her beverage and then smiled at Dean, trying to diffuse the situation. "Then you might have to get hearing aids, old man."

Julia wished that they were alone so she didn't have to break up the little flirting between them. She wanted to see just how attracted Dean was to her and whether he would actually make a move or not.

Dean's light smirk fell slightly and he blinked, standing up to his full height. He took a drink of his beer, looked back at the girl at the bar, and then back at Sam.

"By the way, she's got a friend over there," he told his brother. "I can probably hook you up. What do you think?"

Sam looked taken aback by Dean's offer. "Dean, I, no thanks," he shook his head, almost shyly. "I can get my own dates."

"Yeah, you can but you don't," Dean pointed out.

Sam stiffened slightly. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," Dean shook his head and then nodded at the newspaper. "What you got?"

"Mark and Ann Telesca of New Paltz, New York were both found dead in their own home a few days ago," Sam told him, recalling what he read from the article. "Their throats were slit and there were no prints, no murder weapons, all—"

Julia suppressed her smile when Sam snapped at his brother, who was looking back at the girls waiting for him at the bar. Dean looked back at Sam, paying attention again as he drank more beer.

"No prints, no murder weapons, all doors and windows locked from the inside," Sam finished.

Dean took another gulp of beer. "Could just be a garden variety murder, you know? Not our department."

"Well, your dad thought otherwise," Julia spoke up.

Dean quirked an eyebrow at her. "What do you mean?"

Julia dragged John's journal back in front of her and then spun it around so Dean could read the information the right way up. "John noted three murders in the same area of upstate New York," she pointed to the first victim's paragraph. "The first one was in 1912, the second one was in 1945, and the third one was in 1970."

"The same M.O. as the Telescas; their throats were slit, the doors were locked from the inside," Sam added. "Now, so much time had passed between murders that nobody checked the pattern, except for Dad. He kept his eyes peeled for another one."

"And now we got one," Dean stated.

Sam nodded. "Exactly."

"All right, I'm with you. It's worth checking out," Dean agreed and then hesitated, a smile slowly spreading on his face. "We can't pick this up until first thing, though, right?"

Sam gave him a confused look. "Yeah?"

"Good," Dean grabbed his beer and walked away from the table, heading back to the women at the bar. He started chatting with them right away while they leaned in him with flirtatious smiles.

Julia sighed and looked over at Sam. "We can't take him anywhere."

"No, we can't," Sam rolled his eyes. "Wanna head out?"

"Sure."

Julia quickly finished the rest of her drink as Sam picked up their stuff. She made him promise that they could stop by a pizza place—her favorite food to eat while buzzed—on the way back to their motel. Pizza, beer, and whatever movie was on cable sounded like a much better night than watching Dean go home with two women.

"So, last night…"

"Sam, come on," Julia sighed as they continued walking through the Telesca's old house. She had the EMF device in her hand as they walked down the upstairs hallway, checking the empty rooms for any evidence of what happened to the happy couple.

"What, I'm just saying," Sam shrugged as he took the lead into the master bedroom. There was a large bloodstain on the white carpet but there was nothing else in the room. Everything the Telesca's owned was now being sold at an estate sale because they had no other family. "You and Dean were getting somewhere and then you shut it down."

"I shut it down because I don't want a casual fling with your brother," Julia told him. "and I know that Dean isn't really the relationship kind of guy so I'm just gonna save myself the trouble."

"Fine," they left the master bedroom and started back downstairs.

Julia could tell that Sam wasn't finished with the topic of her and Dean but she didn't want to get into it again. She wasn't going to go there with Dean; she couldn't just have sex with him. She was someone who wore her heart on her sleeve and if she did have sex with Dean, she was positive that her feelings would grow. That's just how she was.

They left the house, locking up after themselves so it seemed like no one was there, and walked down the block to where Sam parked the Impala. Dean was still sleeping in the passenger seat when they arrived, his head leaning against the window with sunglasses blocking his sensitive eyes.

Julia playfully nudged Sam and bounded forward, leaning through the drivers' side window to reach the steering wheel. Sam grinned and chuckled as she slapped the horn, making Dean shout in surprise, jump in his seat, and take a defensive stance.

Julia broke out into giggles, laughing harder when Dean whipped off his sunglasses and glared at her. She slid back from the window and stepped to the side, opening her door to slide into the backseat.

Sam was still laughing when he sat in the drivers' seat.

"That was so not cool," Dean grumbled, resting his tired head back on the window. Julia snickered, not feeling sorry for him. He had done worse things to her while she was trying to sleep in the backseat—the worst was when he blared his music and started weaving in and out of the two lanes on an empty highway, making her fall into the space between the seats.

"We just swept the Telesca house with EMF. It's clean," Sam informed him, his laughter finally calming down. "And, last night, while you were…well…out—"

Dean smirked happily. "Good times."

Julia rolled her eyes while Sam continued as if he didn't say anything. "J and I checked the history of the house; no hauntings, no violent crimes."

"And there wasn't anything strange about the Telescas, either," Julia added.

"All right, so, if it's not the people and it's not the house, then maybe it's the contents," Dean said thoughtfully. "Like a cursed object or something."

"The house is clean," Sam stated.

"Yeah, I know," Dean gave him an annoyed look. "you said that."

"No, I mean it's empty," Sam elaborated. "No furniture, nothing."

"Where's all their stuff, then?"

"An estate sale," Julia informed him, recalling the information she looked up before they even stepped foot in the house. "It's taking place this afternoon at Daniel Blake's Auctions and Estates."

"Perfect," Dean sat up in his seat, yawning. "What are we waiting for, then?"

Sam started the car and pulled away from the curb, driving out of the expensive neighborhood that the Telescas lived in. As he turned onto the main road through town, Julia leaned forward in her seat to speak to the brothers.

"We should probably change first," she suggested.

Dean looked at her like he was crazy. "Why would we do that?"

"Daniel Blake's auction house is the best of the best," Julia told him. "We're gonna stick out like a sore thumb if we go in there in jeans and flannel. And, without an invitation, we'll get kicked out."

Dean wasn't convinced that they needed to change but Sam agreed with Julia. Once they stopped at a gas station to change into their nicest clothes, they made their way to Daniel Blake's auction house.

The lot was full of luxurious sports cars and the building was huge, with beautiful and expensive pieces of artwork, statues, and furniture. There were plenty of people mulling about and checking out the items, all dressed in very nice clothing.

"Silent auctions, estate sales," Dean muttered under his breath as they walked through the aisles of items. He stole some type of finger food from the buffet and stuffed it in his mouth. "Looks like a garage sale for Wasps, if you ask me."

Julia went to throw him a be-quiet look but a man's elegant yet distasteful voice came from behind them.

"Can I help you three?"

Julia, Dean, and Sam turned around and came face-to-face with an older gentleman, several inches shorter than both of the Winchester brothers. He wore a three-piece suit, his hair was slicked back impeccably, and there was a nasty look on his face.

"I'd like some champagne, please," Dean told him with his mouth full.

Julia nudged him with her elbow. "He's not a waiter," she turned back to the man, her sweet smile that gave her whatever she wanted on display. "Nice to meet you, I'm Julia Petersen—"

"Of the chain of sports shops?" the man asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Yes, sir," Julia nodded confidently, holding out her hand for him to shake. The man took it, shaking it firmly yet politely. "These are my art dealers, Sam and Dean Connors."

The man gave the brothers a doubtful look. "You are art dealers?"

Sam nodded with a polite smile. "That's right."

"I'm Daniel Blake. This is my auction house," the man introduced himself. "Miss Petersen, no matter how nice it is to meet you, I'm afraid that this is a private showing. I don't remember seeing your name on the guest list."

Before Julia could say a word, Dean scoffed. "We're there, chuckles. You just need to take another look."

Julia had never been embarrassed of Dean and she wasn't now, either. She was annoyed, though. All she had to do was buy their way onto the guest list so they weren't intruding but he had to open his mouth. Mr. Blake would undoubtedly kick them out because of Dean's manners.

A waiter with a tray full of champagne passed by and Dean took a glass. "Oh, finally," he sniffed the glass pretentiously, as if it was a glass of wine. "Cheers."

Sam and Dean walked away from the man, leaving Julia on her lonesome. "Sorry about him," she tried saving grace. "We just arrived in town today and I heard about your showing. There wasn't enough time to buy tickets. Are there any left?"

Mr. Blake didn't seem as put-off by Julia as he was Sam and Dean. She owed it all to her last name and her training when it came to big events like this where their family had to mingle with the other rich people of America. When she was younger, Naomi and Maggie used to go to parties all the time but when Naomi died, Maggie started taking Julia along until she left for Stanford.

"Certainly, Miss Petersen," Mr. Blake nodded. "I'll come find you with the tickets. Please, continue to take a look around."

"Thank you so much, Mr. Blake," Julia gave him a sweet smile and then turned, heading off in the direction Sam and Dean went.

She found them in the area where the Telesca estate was being shown. The Telescas had mostly good taste, a little bit too stuffy for her, but the large painting of a family of five was horrific. She couldn't imagine why anyone would put that in their house, especially if they weren't related to the people in the portrait.

Sam and Dean joined her at the painting, each of them looking at it with furrowed brows.

"A fine example of American Primitive, wouldn't you say?" a woman spoke up as she walked toward them.

She was a couple of years older than Julia and far taller than her but she was beautiful. Her dark brown hair was pulled up elegantly and her black dress was classy enough for the showing up cute enough that she wasn't boring to look at.

Sam looked at the painting in confusion and then back to the woman. "Well, I'd say it's more Grant Wood than Grandma Moses," he stated. "But you knew that. You just wanted to see if I did."

The woman smiled. "Guilty," she admitted as a waiter came by with a tray of mini quiche that Dean eagerly took from. "and clumsy. I apologize. I'm Sarah Blake."

"I'm Sam," Sam introduced himself. "This is my friend, Julia, and my brother, Dean."

Sarah smiled at Julia, her eyes sweeping to Dean, who was shoving a mini quiche into his mouth. "Dean," she greeted him. "Can we get you some more mini quiche?"

Dean hummed with his mouth full. "I'm good, thanks."

Julia watched as Sarah's eyes immediately went back to Sam, her expression brightening. "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," Sarah eyed the Telesca items and people around them. "But Dad's right about one thing. Sensationalism brings out the crowds—even the rich ones."

Sam grinned at her and hesitated for a second before asking, "Is it possible to see the provenances?"

"I'm afraid there isn't any chance of that," Mr. Blake walked over to them.

Sam gave him a confused look. "Why not?"

"I'm afraid I underestimated our ticket sales, Miss Petersen," Mr. Blake turned to Julia, dismissing Sam's question. "Therefore, you and your companions are unable to continue viewing the items. I think it's time for you to leave."

Julia raised her eyebrows at Mr. Blake; his tone was polite but his expression was anything but. He didn't want her business, it seemed, as long as she had Sam and Dean by her side. Well, that was his loss.

"Thank you for your time, Mr. Blake," Julia made sure she hid her anger with the man behind politeness. "Next time I come to town, I'll book in advance."

"That would be lovely," Mr. Blake nodded. "Good afternoon."

Julia gave him a tight smile and grabbed Dean's arm, pulling him with her as she walked away. He looked like he wanted to punch the smug expression right off Mr. Blake's face but she couldn't allow that to happen. No matter how rude the guy was, the Petersen name couldn't be tarnished by unimportant auction houses.

"That guy needs a fucking attitude adjustment," Dean grunted angrily as they left the building. "What a fucking asshole."

"He's not worth it," Julia tried to placate him.

Dean's temper wasn't sated just yet, though. "He's an asshole who acts like he's better than us just because he has money," he muttered as he and Julia went to their side of the car. "What a dick."

"Hey," Julia grabbed his hand before he could rip open the drivers' door and squeezed it, hoping it would help calm him down. "Don't worry about it, Dean."

Dean sighed, Julia's hold on him actually allowing him to calm down. He squeezed her back and then let go of her hand to open his door. He gave her a small, grateful smile as he slid into his seat. He pointedly ignored the way Sam smiled at him and started up the car as Julia got into her seat.

Julia pulled her duffle bags from the back of the Impala and followed Sam and Dean over to the rooms she got for them. Rooms eleven and twelve were connected—like Dean wanted them to be every time it was her turn to rent the rooms—and were the last two rooms of the front side of the motel.

"How'd you know about that stuff back at the auction house?" Dean asked Sam as he pulled out the key to twelve that Julia gave him. "Grant Wood and Grandma Moses?"

"I took an art history course," Sam told him. "It was good for meeting girls."

"Plenty of time to make a connection when the professor drones on and on about boring crap," Julia teased Sam with a grin, walking next door to unlock her room. "I dropped out the first week."

Dean shook his head at them. "It's like I don't even know you two."

Julia laughed and unlocked her door, stepping into the room. It was decorated in black and white with a disco theme. There were silvery metal accessories everywhere and the walls looked like a dance floor that was made in the seventies. There were two queen beds a couple feet apart from each other, a table, and a mini bar.

She hoped that Sam and Dean had a room decorated similarly so she wouldn't have to suffer alone.

Julia set her bags down on one of the beds and walked over to the doors that separated her room from Sam and Dean's room. She unlocked hers and opened it before knocking on the one that locked on the boys' side.

Dean opened the door within seconds, peeking into her room. "Looks like Saturday Night Fever threw up all over your room, too."

"Yeah," Julia laughed as he let her into his room. "It must be a real draw to their customers."

"Mmhm," Dean hummed in agreement before turning to Sam, who was setting his stuff on his bed. "What was that providence thing you were talking about?"

"Provenance," Sam corrected him. "It's a certificate of origin, like a biography, you know? We can use them to check the history of the pieces and see if any of them have a freaky past."

"Huh," Dean nodded, impressed. "Well, we're not getting anything out of chuckles, but Sarah…"

"Yeah," Sam smirked at him. "Maybe you can get her to write it all down on a cocktail napkin."

"Oh, it's not Dean that Sarah's interested in," Julia drawled as she sat down at their table. Dean pointed at her in agreement, his face lighting up into an amused grin.

"No, no, no," Sam shook his head. "Pick-ups are your thing."

"It wasn't my ass she was checking out," Dean told him. "Right, Jules?"

"Sarah's into you, hotshot," Julia grinned at her best friend. "Call her up, take her on a date…"

"In other words, you want me to use her to get information."

"Don't think of it that way, Sam," Julia sighed.

"Besides," Dean added, pulling out his cellphone to hand it to Sam. "Sometimes you gotta take one for the team. Call her."

Sam sighed heavily and took the phone, walking into Julia's room so he could have some privacy to talk to Sarah alone.

Dean couldn't help but stare at her. The way her wavy hair brushed against her upper back. The way her hazel eyes lit up when someone was talking to her, giving them all of her attention. The way she wrinkled her nose when she took a drink of Dean's beer. The way her little black dress fit her just right, showing off all her assets. The way she giggled when he told her some lame joke that no one else would laugh at.

Julia Petersen was a masterpiece and he never wanted to look away.

Dean had always found Julia attractive and, of course, after that dream he had, everything had gotten more intense, more heated. But in that bar, where they decided to spend time together while Sam went on a date with Sarah, it was like everything had been turned up to an eleven. This was different than the regular old attraction that he had with Cassie or yoga-teacher Lisa. This attraction to Julia was magnetic; he didn't just want to fuck her, he wanted everything with her.

And that freaked him the fuck out because, other than Cassie—and look how that turned out—Dean didn't do relationships. And Julia wasn't just some random chick that he could hang out with for a few weeks and then ditch. This was Julia Ruth Petersen; he had known her since she was born. He had watched her grow from a cute kid to an awkward pre-teen to the beautiful, intelligent, and strong woman she was today. She was important to him and he couldn't screw her up. He couldn't bring her down.

But it was tough when Julia clearly felt something back for him. He wasn't a stranger to women and he knew when he was wanted. That gleam in Julia's hazel eyes wasn't love that you have for your brother. The way she licked her lips when talking to him about the case they were on wasn't just to make sure the skin didn't dry out. The blush on her face wasn't from embarrassment.

Despite the fact that the attraction between them was obviously reciprocated, he couldn't do it. He couldn't take that step with her and he had to tell her the truth.

"Listen, Jules," he was trying to be delicate because he didn't want to hurt her feelings—and there was also the fact that he didn't want to do this. He wanted to give in. "I-I can't do this."

Julia's face fell. "What?"

"We have something going on, right? I mean, I know you feel it, too," Dean explain. "but I can't take that step with you. I can't ruin what we have."

"What we have?"

"I don't do relationships," he told her; it made his stomach twist when her pretty lips turned into a frown. "I'm sorry."

Julia eyebrows furrowed and she shook her head. "It's fine, Dean. I-I wasn't expecting anything…I was—we were just hanging out. Like friends."

"Right," Dean nodded, his heart sinking. "Like friends."

"I'm going to get a drink," Julia forced a smile as she stood up from the table they had occupied an hour earlier. "Do you want anything?"

"No, I'm good. I still have…" Dean trailed off when Julia practically ran away from the table; from him. "Okay."

He watched as she walked up to the bar, stepping onto the ledge so she could see the bartender properly. She pulled her fake ID out of her purse and flashed him a big smile before saying something that Dean couldn't hear. The bartender winked at her and then went to start making her drink. And then a guy walked up to her side and plopped down on the stool next to where she was standing. He was a couple of inches shorter than Dean but still half a foot taller than Julia, with dark brown hair and a medium build. He said something to Julia and she smiled charmingly back at him.

Dean's stomach twisted again and this time it wasn't because he had to reject Julia. Dean was never really a jealous guy—he didn't have a reason to be—but something in him just hated the thought of another guy smiling at Julia and making her laugh. His heart raced and his jaw clenched; when the guy placed a hand at the small of her back, he jumped from his chair.

Mine, the primal part of his brain roared as he stomped over to the bar where Julia was talking with the asshole.

He swiftly wrapped his fingers around Julia's wrist, making sure his grip was light enough where she wasn't hurt. He pulled her off the ledge and tucked her into his side, pulling her away from the guy without a second thought.

"Dean, what the hell are you doing?" she asked him loudly as he escorted her out of the bar and through the parking lot that connected to their motel "You can't just drag me around like some kind of ragdoll."

"Well, you can't just go around flirting with any man who smiles at you!" he retorted like he had any right.

Julia stopped in her tracks, only a couple of feet away from their rooms. "Are you joking?" she demanded, ripping her arm away from him as he turned to face her. "Dean, you were the one who said you didn't do relationships!"

"I don't!" he raised his voice. "but that doesn't mean you can just go off and fuck the next guy you see!"

"I'm sorry, I missed the part where you were in charge of me."

"You wish I was in charge of you, shortcake," Dean snapped back. "Then you wouldn't have to fuck random guys at bars."

"Oh, like you don't have your fun?" Julia raised her eyebrows. "How was the threesome last night, Dean?"

"We weren't talking about me."

"No, I think we were," Julia countered. "I think we were talking about the fact that you think that I'm going to sit around pining for you while you get your jollies off with everyone you meet. Guess what, Dean? That's not going to happen. You said you don't want to take that step with me, fine! But don't act like I have no right to do what or who I want."

Dean clenched his jaw so tightly he was surprised his teeth weren't breaking. This wasn't a good combination; he was drunk, he was horny, and Julia was in front of him and she was everything. He was being reckless but fuck it…he could deal with the aftermath in the morning.

He firmly gripped her upper arms and pulled her to him, smashing his lips against hers. Julia didn't even try to protest, quickly returning his affection. Dean didn't believe in divine intervention or fate or anything like that, but it felt like he was made to kiss Julia. Like everything that had happened in their lives had come down to this moment and even though it wasn't perfect, it was them.

Their hands were everywhere; stroking bare arms, gliding over supple curves, gripping firm muscles. Dean hadn't even realized how they got into Julia's room but it didn't matter; he was gripped her thighs and she was wrapping her legs around him.

And, when they fall onto her bed, there was no hesitation or anxiety. It was trust, pleasure, and, most importantly, love.

Julia wasn't in a field this time but she still knew what was happening. Usually her dreams with her angel were never in the same place, so it was kind of relaxing to know that things were getting back to normal. She was seated in the last pew at her church back home; the church was empty and most of the lights were out but there was still a ray of sun beaming through one of the stain glass windows depicting an angel.

Fitting, wasn't it?

"Julia Ruth," her angel greeted her.

"What's wrong?" she asked immediately. "Usually when you pull me into these dreams I need guidance."

"It is, indeed."

"So, what's going to happen this time?" she raised an eyebrow at the window. "I mean, my brother just died and there wasn't a peep out of you. Didn't I need your guidance then?"

"I'm sorry about Levi," the angel told her, a hint of sadness in his voice. "but it might help you to know that he rests in Heaven where he belonged."

Despite the fact that her angel wasn't there in her time of need, the assurance that Levi was in Heaven—like she thought he would be—did help her. The knowledge gave her some peace that she had been missing ever since she learned that Levi died at the hands of Meg and the Daeva.

"So, what are you doing here, then?" Julia wondered. "What's going to happen that I need guidance for."

"It's not what is going to happen but what is already done, Julia Ruth," her angel answered her. "You and Dean Winchester have found each other."

She struggled to figure out what he meant by that until she remembered what exactly exhausted her enough to fall asleep. She and Dean had sex and it was great—wait, did that mean…?

"You saw that?"

"Yes."

"You couldn't give us some privacy?"

"I am your guardian, Julia Ruth," her angel spoke as if watching her and Dean have sex was no bid deal.

"Well, in the future, could you not watch?" Julia's cheeks flushed. "I'm not a voyeur."

"I do not understand."

"Never mind," she sighed. "Just, please, give me some privacy."

"I will try," her angel promised her.

Julia pressed her lips together and rolled her eyes; her angel sure was stubborn. "Okay, so back to why we're here…"

"Do not let Dean Winchester go, Julia Ruth," her angel commanded. "Just as you are chosen, he is chosen as well."

"Chosen for what?" he had said that she was chosen before but she still couldn't figure out what he meant by that. And, what, now Dean was chosen, too? "What does that mean?"

"Do not let him go," her angel repeated, ignoring her questions. "I will see you soon, Julia Ruth."

Julia wanted to protest but there was some banging noise coming from outside the doors that separated the chapel to the rest of the church. The light from the angel window went out as she stood up to see what the noise could be. When she opened the doors, she woke up.

It was morning. She knew that because she had forgotten to close the curtains to the front window the night before and now the sun was streaming into the room. Her eyes stung as she blinked rapidly, trying to remember the details of her rapidly fading dream.

And then there was another knock and she was too easily distracted. "Julia, wake up!" she heard Sam call. "I got breakfast!"

Dean wasn't by her side anymore, though she was pretty sure he fell asleep before she did. Her disappointment went away when she sat up and saw a note sitting on the nightstand.

Jules,

Sam got the provenances from Sarah. It's that ugly painting of the family that's been going from victim to victim. We went to go burn the damn thing.

Love,

Dean

Julia got a little too excited when she read 'love'. She quickly stamped it down, reminding herself that Dean didn't do relationships.

Do not let Dean Winchester go.

She heard the whisper like someone had spoken out loud. She looked around, hoping that Sam had somehow gotten through her locked door but she was still alone. Great, now she was going crazy—crazier than she was, anyway.

"J, wake up!" Sam called again, knocking impatiently. "We're eating breakfast and then leaving!"

"I'm up!" Julia called back as she stood up, pulling a sheet up around her just in case Sam did break in and catch an eyeful of her very naked body. "Give me a few."

The knocking ceased so she guessed that Sam heard her. She grabbed a change of clothes and then hightailed it into the shower; she was sweaty, smelt like alcohol, and there was something sticky between her thighs that had her blushing.

When she was done making sure everything was washed thoroughly, she got dressed and unlocked the door connecting her room to Sam and Dean's. She didn't stop to think about any potential embarrassment that came with the morning-after with Dean. She was too hungry for that.

"Finally," Sam sighed when she walked into the room. "I've never seen you sleep that late before."

Julia furrowed her eyebrows and looked at the clock on the wall; it was almost ten. "Oh, sorry," she shook her head. "I guess I was tired."

"I bet you were," Dean spoke up from his seat next to Sam at the table, a naughty smirk on his face that his brother was oblivious to. "Hungry?"

"Yes," Julia flushed at Dean's remark but didn't let it get to her as she went to sit at the table and dig into the food they brought her. "Did you guys burn the painting?"

"Yep," Dean confirmed as she opened the container that held a bagel, cheesy eggs, and sausage; he stood up and walked over to his bed, starting to pack his bag. "In and out; easy as pie."

Julia hummed as she took a bite of her bagel, watching Sam as he frowned down at the table. "You okay, Sam?" she asked after she swallowed. "You look sad."

"Oh, no, I'm okay," Sam assured her quickly.

Julia could see right through him; something was bothering him and she would bet money that it had something to do with Sarah. His energy practically danced around him, full of indecision, guilt, and grief. Julia figured that he liked Sarah but was feeling guilty about Jess; it was a tough situation and she really felt for him.

"Shit," Dean suddenly cursed as he rummaged through his bags. "We have a problem; I can't find my wallet."

Sam seemed thankful for the fact that Dean had distracted Julia and the knowing gaze she was giving him. "How is that our problem?"

"Because I think I dropped it in the warehouse last night."

Julia looked at him in shock. "You're kidding, right?"

"No," Dean left his bed to shrug on his jacket. "It's got my prints, my ID—well, my fake ID, anyway…We gotta get it before someone else finds it."

"Dean, I just started to eat," Julia protested, gesturing down to her food.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, shortcake," Dean rolled his eyes at her. "Come on, let's go."

They got to Daniel Blake's auction house fifteen minutes later. They started at the right side of the building first, looking in and around items that were up for show. There was no sign of Dean's wallet any where.

Sam sighed, frustrated. "How do you lose your wallet, Dean?"

Dean threw his hands up defensively and continued to look, walking into the next aisle.

"Hey, guys!" Sarah walked up to them with an easy smile.

Sam practically flailed and almost fell over if it weren't for the fact that Julia grabbed his arm to steady him. "Sarah, hey!" he exclaimed while Julia waved with a smile.

"What are you doing here?"

"Uh…" Sam looked at Julia for help but she just smiled sweetly at him. "We—we're leaving town and we came to say goodbye."

Dean walked over from the aisle he was looking in. "What are you talking about, Sam?" he drawled, coming up to Julia's side. "We're sticking around for at least another day or two."

Julia and Sam gave him looks of confusion while Sarah smiled.

"Oh, Sam," Dean dug his wallet out of his jeans and opened it up, taking out a twenty. "By the way, I wanted to give you that twenty bucks I owe you. I always forget," he chuckled and handed him the money. "There you go."

Julia smiled in realization; Dean was being a little matchmaker. It was cute but, at the same time, she didn't want him to push Sam.

Sam practically ripped the bill out of Dean's hands.

"Well, we'll leave you two crazy kids alone," Dean grabbed Julia's hand. "We gotta go do something…somewhere."

Julia furrowed her eyebrows. "We do?"

Dean rolled his eyes and tugged her away from Sam and Sarah. She flushed when she realized that he just wanted to give the two of them some time alone without their presence making it awkward. Knowing Sam, though, he'd make it awkward enough without them around.

"You shouldn't push Sam, you know," Julia told Dean as he led her out to the Impala.

Dean gave her a curious look. "Why not? He likes Sarah."

"Well, I know he does but he's also still grieving for Jess," she explained as he leaned against Baby. "He's feeling guilty for liking another woman."

"Hmm," Dean hummed, wrapping his hands around her hips to bring her closer to him; Julia shivered, pleased with the contact. "And how do you know that?"

"His energy," she told him simply, moving to wrap her arms around his waist. "It's getting easier to read you guys since I'm around you all the time."

"Is it?" Dean raised an eyebrow, his green eyes sparkling down at her. "What does my energy say today?"

Julia grinned. "You're feeling mischievous…"

"Mmm," Dean leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead.

"and caring…"

"Of course," he pecked the tip of her nose.

"and excited."

"I think that one's a given, baby," he kissed her lips for only a second, earning himself a pout when he pulled away. "Are you okay with this?"

"Are you?" Julia countered curiously.

Dean could see the worried look in her eye and while he was worried himself, he knew that he couldn't walk away from Julia. Not after all they had been through. Not after the previous night. Not with the way he felt about her.

"I care about you, Julia. In a way that I can honestly say I've never felt before," Dean told her honestly. "and I'm not good at relationships but if we can take it slow…"

Do not let go of Dean Winchester, another whisper flittered through her head.

"We can take it slow," Julia agreed; if that was what Dean needed then she would give that to him. "but I need to know that this isn't going to be a one-sided thing, Dean."

"Like am I gonna fuck around with other chicks?"

Julia clicked her tongue. "Must you be so vulgar?"

"Well, that wasn't what you were saying last night," Dean smirked, causing her to blush and slap his chest playfully. "But yes, Julia, I will not sleep with anyone but you."

Julia grinned at him. "And I won't sleep with anyone but you, too."

"Good," Dean gave her another quick peck. "cause you're mine and I don't share."

"Caveman."

"I'll show you a caveman," Dean growled playfully, smushing his lips to her jaw and pretending to gnaw on the skin. Julia squeaked and giggled, coaxing a few chuckles out of Dean as she tried to squirm away.

They heard the doors to the auction house open and abruptly pulled away from each other, thinking along the same lines. They didn't want anyone to know about this yet; especially since they were taking things slow.

Sam hurriedly walked toward the car, oblivious that anything less than friendly had been happening between Julia and Dean. Julia was caught off guard by the urgent and worried expression on his face.

It didn't take long for Sam to reach them. "We have a problem," he breathed. "The painting. It's still there."

"You're fucking with us, aren't you?" Dean asked him, not taking the bait. "This is because I made you come here, isn't it?"

"What? No!" Sam shook his head. "Dean, I'm not lying. The painting is still there. Like we never burned the damn thing."

The three of them got into the Impala so no one could overhear their conversation.

"I don't understand," Julia admitted, leaning her elbows on the front seat. "How did it survive?"

"I have no idea," Dean grumbled. "but we need to figure out another way to get rid of it," he turned to Sam. "Any ideas?"

"Okay, all right," Sam gathered his thoughts. "Well, in almost all the lore about haunted painting, it's always the painting's subject that haunts them."

Dean nodded. "So, we just need to figure out everything there is to know about that creep-ass family and that creepy-ass painting…"

They headed to the local library to do some digging. Luckily for them, the library employed its own local history expert named Keith who was very enthusiastic when Julia, Dean, and Sam went to him to ask about the Isaiah Merchant family. He was especially fond of Julia, gushing over the fact that she looked a little like his oldest granddaughter.

It took only ten minutes for Keith to find information about Isaiah Merchant. He slammed down two large books, one was a regular textbook while the other held old newspaper articles, down onto the table that Julia, Dean, and Sam sat around at.

"You said the Isaiah Merchant family, right?" Keith checked one more time.

Julia nodded. "Yes, sir."

Keith happily opened the book of newspapers. "I dug up every scrap of local history I could find," he informed them. "So, are you three crime buffs?"

"Kind of," Dean confirmed as he sat on the table to get a better look of what Keith was showing them. "Why do you ask?"

"Well," Keith held up a newspaper; the frontline was about the sinking of the Titanic but Keith tapped on one of the smaller articles to the side. It read, Father Slaughters Family, Kills Himself.

"Yes," Dean pointed at it. "Yeah, that sounds about right."

Sam studied the article. "The whole family was killed?"

Keith nodded. "It seems this Isaiah, he slit his kids' throats, then his wife, then himself," he told them. "Now, he was a barber by trade; used a straight razor."

Julia wrinkled her nose. "Why did he do it?"

"Well, let's look," Keith said enthusiastically, turning to the full article and beginning to read, "People who knew him describe Isaiah as having a stern and harsh temperament who controlled his family with an iron fist. He had a wife, two sons, and an adopted daughter…yada, yada, oh…There were whispers that the wife was gonna take the kids and leave," he looked up to explain, "Which, of course, you know in that day and age…so, instead, old man Isaiah, well, he gave them all a shave."

Keith snickered and made a slitting gesture across his throat; Julia and Sam didn't find it very funny but Dean gave him a couple of chuckles before sobering up when Julia and Sam gave him stern looks.

"So," Dean turned back to Keith. "Does it say what happened to the bodies?"

Keith took another peek at the article. "It says they were all cremated."

Julia, Dean, and Sam exchanged pointed looks before Sam asked Keith, "Anything else?"

"Yes, actually," Keith nodded and set down the newspaper before picking up the book. He flipped to the page that he had marked, showing it to them. "I found a picture of the family."

The picture looked just like the painting that Sam and Dean tried to destroy. There was a little difference between the two, though. When Julia had seen the portrait last, the father had been looking down; in the picture, Isaiah was facing the painter head-on.

"Keith, could we get a copy of this?" Julia asked, giving the man a sweet smile.

"Sure thing," Keith nodded happily. "Just give me a second."

"I'm telling you, man, I'm sure of it," Sam insisted, pushing the picture Keith had printed for them to Dean. "The painting at the auction house had Isaiah looked down. The painting here, he's looking out. It changed."

Dean grabbed the photo and looked at it for a second. "All right, so, you think that Daddy dearest is trapped in the painting and is handing out Columbian neckties like with his family?"

"Well, yeah, it seems like it," Sam said quickly. "But if his bones are already dusted, how are we gonna stop him?"

"If Isaiah changed in the painting, do you think that something else changed too?" Julia spoke up, lounging at the end of Sam's bed.

"Could be," Dean shrugged, getting up from the table where he sat across from Sam to plop onto his bed. "Maybe it will give us some clues."

"What, like a Da Vinci Code deal?" Sam looked at him skeptically.

Dean hesitated for a few seconds before admitting, "I don't know. I'm still waiting for the movie on that one."

Julia grinned softly and rolled her eyes before focusing on the painting. "Okay, so we have to get back in and see the painting."

"Which is a good thing because you can get some more time to crush on your girlfriend," Dean added, pointing to Sam.

"Dude," Sam gave his brother an annoyed look. "Enough already."

"What?"

"What?" Sam repeated in disbelief. "Ever since we got here you've been trying to pimp me out to Sarah. Just back off, all right?"

Dean crossed his arms and rested them on his stomach. "Well, you like her, don't you?" Sam shrugged and rolled his eyes in exasperation. "All right, you like her, she likes you, you're both consenting adults…"

"What's the point, Dean?" Sam asked angrily. "We'll just leave. We always leave."

"Well, I'm not talking about marriage, Sam!"

"I don't get it," Sam raised his voice. "Why do you care if I hook up?"

"Cause then maybe you wouldn't be so cranky all the damn time," Dean answered him calmly.

"Dean," Julia gave him a warning look while Sam scoffed in disbelief.

Dean sighed and sat up so his back was off the headboard. "You know, seriously Sam, this isn't just about hooking up, okay? I mean, I think that this Sarah girl could be good for you," Sam sighed and scratched the back of his head, looking away guiltily. "And…I don't mean any disrespect but I'm sure this is about Jessica, right?"

Julia inhaled softly, shocked to hear Dean use what she told him earlier. She didn't think he was doing it to make things worse; he looked concerned for his baby brother and was trying to give him some guidance.

"Now, I don't know what it's like to lose somebody like that, but…" he hesitated, a faraway look in his green eyes. "but I would think that she would want you to be happy God forbid have fun once in a while. Wouldn't she?"

Having known Jess for years, ever since they were roomed together freshman year of college, Julia spoke up. "She would, Sam," she whispered. "I know it hurts, I know…but Jess would be happy for you."

Sam smiled fondly, remembering how much Jess loved him and wanted him to be happy. "Yeah, she would," he agreed softly. "and yeah, you're right. Part of this is about Jessica but not the main part."

"What do you mean, Sam?" Julia asked quietly. "What's it about?"

Sam pursed his lips sadly and looked away from her, glancing down at the table. It was strange; Sam used to never shy away from telling her what was going on with him. They used to share everything; from nightmares to relationship insecurities.

"All right," Dean spoke up, knowing that Sam wasn't going to answer Julia; he laid back down. "Well, we still gotta see that painting, which means you still gotta call Sarah, so…"

Sam cleared his throat and grabbed his phone, dialing Sarah's number. "Hey, Sarah, it's Sam," he spoke into the phone. "Good. Good, yeah. What about you? Yeah, good, really good…"

Julia grinned in amusement, giving Sam a thumbs' up when he looked at her with an awkward smile. Dean snickered, whispering something about Sam being as smooth as crunchy peanut butter.

"So, ah, listen," Sam cut to the chase. "My friend, Julia, she was thinking that maybe she'd like to come back in and look at the painting again. I think she's interested in buying it…What?!" he exclaimed, standing up in shock; Julia and Dean perked up, wondering what was going on. "Who'd you sell it to? Sarah, I need an address right now."

It turned out that Daniel Blake had sold the painting to a woman named Evelyn, despite the fact that Sarah didn't want it sold so soon after the Telescas' deaths. Julia, Dean, and Sam rushed to Evelyn's house, with Sarah meeting up with them, but were too late to save Evelyn. She had her throat slit from ear to ear while the painting was posted on the fireplace mantle a few feet away from her.

The three of them left the house after pulling Sarah away from Evelyn's body, leaving the freaked-out woman to deal with the police herself. They had gone back to the motel to wait for news and do a little research when Sarah showed up, knocking on the door.

"Hey," Sam let her into the room. "Are you all right?"

"No, actually," Sarah retorted as she stomped over to the table, putting her back to Julia and Dean to confront Sam. "I just lied to the cops and told them I went to Evelyn's alone and found her like that."

Dean smirked over at Julia and she shook her head at him.

Sam sighed in relief. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me, I'm about to call them right back and tell them what the hell's going on," Sarah snapped at him. "Who's killing these people?"

Sam looked to Julia and Dean for guidance; when they both nodded at him, he corrected Sarah, "What."

Sarah gave him a confused look. "What?"

"It's not a who," Sam elaborated. "It's what is killing those people."

From the look that Sarah shot Sam, Julia could tell that she already thought they were insane.

"Sarah, you saw that painting move."

"No…No, I was…I was seeing things," Sarah shook her head, remembering the way that Isaiah looked at her when she found Evelyn's body. "It's impossible."

"Yeah, well, welcome to our world," Dean commented.

Julia rolled her eyes at Dean and then addressed Sarah, "Look, we sound crazy, we know, but that painting is haunted."

Sarah scoffed lightly, tears coming to her eyes. "You're joking," she looked to Sam; when she saw that he was serious, she rolled her eyes. "You're not joking. God, the guys I chose to go out with."

"Sarah, think about it," Sam urged her. "Evelyn, the Telescas, 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. That's the truth."

Sarah inhaled deeply but came around to the idea of the painting being haunted pretty quickly. "Then I guess you better show me," she demanded. "I'm coming with you."

"What?" Sam was taken aback. "No, Sarah, no. You should just go home. This stuff can get dangerous and…and I don't want you to get hurt."

"Look, you guys are probably crazy but if you're right about this, then me and my dad sold this painting that got these people killed," Sarah said firmly. "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."

Julia grinned at Sarah. She was always so impressed when random civilians stood up to do what was right, even if the thing they were standing up against was supernatural. Their whole lives, they didn't know things like this existed but when push came to shove, they were there to make things right. It was inspiring; it was why she loved people and why she loved what she did.

"Well said," Julia jumped out of her seat and held her hand out for Sarah.

Sarah high-fived her and then looked at Sam expectantly, "So, are we going or what?"

Julia, Dean, Sam, and Sarah broke into the crime scene that was Evelyn's house so they could compare the painting to the picture of the painting. They discovered that the razor in the picture was closed while the razor in the actual painting was open. There was also another difference where the painting inside the painting was of the Merchant crypt.

The four of them went through two different cemeteries before they found the crypt in the third one. The Merchant crypt had an old teddy bear and the daughter's glass doll preserved, along with four urns, which meant that Isaiah Merchant had been buried somewhere else.

While Sam and Sarah sat and had a heart-to-heart, Julia and Dean went to find out exactly if and where Isaiah Merchant was buried. It turned out that the surviving Merchant family was ashamed of Isaiah so they handed his body over to the county, who buried him. When nighttime came, the four of them went to his grave and dug Isaiah up, salting and burning his bones.

Once everything was done and Isaiah was dust, Julia, Dean, Sam, and Sarah drove back to Evelyn's house to check on the painting. Sarah and Sam went into the house by themselves—much to Dean's insistence because he thought Sam should make a move on Sarah—while Julia and Dean stayed in the Impala with the motor running.

While Sam and Sarah were in the house, the door was forcefully slammed shut. Dean and Julia were unable to get it open, despite picking the lock and trying to kick it down. Sam called them and informed them that it was the daughter was the one who was killing people. When the spirit tried to attack Sam, he held her off until they figured out that the girl's doll had been made with her real hair.

Julia and Dean took off back to the cemetery to visit the Merchant's crypt. The glass incasing the doll was thick and hard to break open but Dean eventually figured out that he could just shoot the glass away. Julia took her sweet time trying to lit the lighter, which was not cooperating, but after a couple hundred tries, she managed to light the doll's hair on fire. It was just in time, too, because it turned out that the spirit was just about to kill Sam and Sarah.

The next morning, Julia did some research on the Merchant daughter while Sarah made sure that the painting was being hauled away someone couldn't buy it again. She and Dean met back up with her and Sarah outside of the auction house where they were prepared to say goodbye.

"This was archived in the county records," she informed Sam and Sarah, holding up the papers she printed. "The Merchant's adopted daughter was named Melanie. She was up for adoption because her real family was murdered in their beds."

"She killed them?" Sarah asked in disbelief.

"Yeah," Dean confirmed. "Who would suspect her? She looks like a sweet little girl."

"Isaiah took the blame and his spirit has been trying to warn people ever since," Julia finished. "Poor guy."

"Where's this one go?" one of Sarah's employees asked her, gesturing to the crate where the Merchant portrait was held.

"Take it out back and burn it," Sarah order; her employee looked at her like she was crazy. "I'm serious, guys. Thanks."

When the employee and his partner picked up the crate and carried it out of the show room, Sarah turned to Julia, Dean, and Sam. "So, why'd the girl do it?"

"Killing others or killing herself?" Sam shrugged. "Some people are just born tortured. So, when they die, their spirits are just as dark."

"Maybe," Dean gruffed. "I don't really care. It's over, we move on."

Sarah nodded in realization and looked at Sam sadly. "I guess this means you're leaving."

Julia looked between her and Sam and then back again before grabbing Dean's arm. "We'll go wait in the car," she told them before smiling at Sarah. "Nice meeting you, Sarah."

"See you around," Dean added as Julia started pulling him out of the building; Sarah hardly noticed them leaving. "We're the ones that burned the doll and destroyed the spirit but don't thank us or anything."

"Oh, so bitter," Julia sang teasingly. "The hero didn't get the girl this time. What ever shall he do?"

"I got the girl," Dean grabbed her hand from his arm and twirled her around, wrapping his arms around her waist. "just not the damsel in distress."

Julia smiled happily up at Dean, cherishing the way his green eyes lit up in happiness. She stood on her tip-toes and pursed her lips, giggling when Dean chased them down with his own.