Supernatural: Provenance

A/N: Happy Halloween! It's not everyday that I get to post an chapter on the same day as Halloween, but I got lucky this time. Interesting fact, it was during Halloween that I first started writing my Supernatural fanfics, and that was about three years ago now.

Read, review, and enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from Supernatural or from Criminal Minds. I just own any and all characters that I just happen create.

CHAPTER TWO: BURNING TIME

Several hours later, Dean was sitting on the bed, sharpening a knife, and Liz was sitting next to him; Sam was sitting in a chair, researching.

"So, she just handed the providences over to you?" Dean asked.

"Provenances," Sam corrected, slightly annoyed; ever since he got back from having dinner with Sarah, Dean had been bugging him for details until Liz threatened to make him spend the rest of the night locked in a closest, and that shut him up for a few minutes at least.

"Pro-provenances?" Dean repeated, finally getting the word right, although it looked as if he strained something doing it.

Sam nodded, going through the copies. "Yes. I went back to her place, I got a copy of the papers."

"And?" Dean asked.

Sam shrugged. "And nothing, that's it. I left."

"You didn't have to con her or do any special favors or anything?" Dean asked, surprised.

"Dean, would you get your mind out of the gutter, please?" Sam requested, exasperated and Dean laughed until Liz elbowed him in the ribs.

"You know, when this whole thing is done, we could stick around for a little bit," Dean suggested after glaring at his twin.

Sam didn't understand. "Why?"

"So you can take her out again," Dean stated. "It's obvious you're into her, even I can see that." And Liz nodded.

"I've noticed that, too, Sam."

Sam rolled his eyes and then straightened up in his chair. "Hey, all right, I think I got somethin' here."

Dean closed up his switchblade as he and Liz both came over to look at the research, and Sam handed him the provenances.

Dean read from the top paper. "Portrait of Isaiah Merchant's family painted in 1910."

"Now, compare the names of the owners with Dad's journal," Sam requested.

Both Dean and Liz sat down near a small table that their dad's journal was lying open on, and he read the first name.

"First purchased in 1912 to Peter Simms." And looked at where Liz was pointing to a text in the journal. "Peter Simms murdered in 1912." He looked at the other papers. "Same thing in 1945." And then he read the last name. "Huh. Same thing in 1970."

"Then stored until it was donated to a charity auction last month, where the Telescas bought it," Sam explained. "So, what do you think, it's haunted or cursed?"

Dean shrugged. "Either way, it's toast."

"I'll bring marshmallows," Liz joked and both Dean and Sam laughed.

It was now after midnight; Dean jumped over the gate, followed by both Liz and Sam.

Outside the front door, Sam carefully took apart the alarm system and disarmed it.

"Go ahead."

Dean picked the lock, unlocked the door, opened it, and they entered.

Once inside, the Winchesters looked around, flashlights in hand, but they couldn't see the painting at first. Dean shined his light on the upper level of the auction house and saw the portrait; they hurried up the stairs. Once there, Dean took out his knife, which he flipped open, and cut the painting out of its frame.

The Winchesters then drove to an empty field, where Liz placed the painting on the ground, Sam soaked it through with gasoline and salt, and Dean lighted a match.

"Ugly-ass thing," he muttered. "If you ask me, we're doin' the art world a favor."

"I agree fully with that, Dean," Liz remarked, thoroughly creeped out by the sight of the painting.

Nodding, he threw the match onto the painting, and they all watched it go up in flames.

Little did the Winchesters know; even as it burned into ashes before them, the painting was now regenerating itself in its frame, and it wasn't long before it had fully restored itself.

The next morning, as both Liz and Sam were packing, when Dean came out of the bathroom, frantic.

"We've got a problem, I can't find my wallet," he announced.

"How is that our problem?" Sam asked, exchanging a confused look with Liz.

Dean glared at his siblings as he grabbed his jacket and searched the pockets frantically. "'Cause I think I dropped it in the warehouse last night."

Now both Sam and Liz were outright worried. "You're kidding, right?"

Dean shook his head and pulled on his jacket. "Yeah, it's got my prints, my ID - well, my fake ID, anyway," he explained. "Plus that credit card that the BAU gave us. We've gotta get it before somebody else finds it, come on." And he left.

It wasn't long before Dean, Liz, and Sam were looking around the various displays hurriedly. None of them wanted another encounter with Daniel Baker.

"How do you lose your wallet, Dean?" Sam asked and his big brother just shrugged; they were still searching when Sarah came into the room and noticed them.

"Hey, guys."

Caught off guard, Sam quickly put a piece of art down and tried to act nonchalant. "Sarah! Hey."

"What are you doing here?" Sarah asked, walking over.

"Uh, we-we're leaving town," Sam stammered, "and you know, we came to say goodbye."

"Oh, what are you talkin' about, Sam? We're stickin' around for at least another day or two," Dean said causally, leaving, Liz, Sam, and Sarah confused. "Oh, Sam, by the way, I wanted to give you that twenty bucks I owe you," he added and took out his wallet from his back pocket. Seeing this, Sam was instantly annoyed and frustrated while Liz had a pained expression on her face.

"I'm always forgettin'." Dean laughed and pulled out a twenty-dollar bill, trying to keep a straight face. "There ya go," he said and Sam, still annoyed by being tricked, took the money. "Well, we'll leave you two crazy kids alone. Liz and I gotta go do something… somewhere." Grinning outright, he grabbed Liz's arm and walked away while Sarah winked at him.

"You can be a real jerk sometimes, Dean," Liz hissed, pulling her arm free and slugged his shoulder. "Why didn't you tell me so that I could've help out?"

Dean just gave her a hurt look as he gingerly rubbed his shoulder. 'Man, she can sure hit hard when she's angry.'

"So…" Sam said nervously.

Sarah smiled. "I had a good time last night."

Sam nodded and relaxed slightly. "Yeah. Yeah, I did, too."

"Maybe we should do it again sometime," Sarah suggested.

Sam sighed wistfully. "You know, I'd love to. I really would, but Dean - he was just screwin' around. We really are takin' off today."

Sarah was disappointed. "Oh. Well, that's too bad."

Just then, Sam saw a worker carrying out the painting he, Liz, and Dean burned the night before. "Oh, my God!" he gasped, shocked.

"What?" Sarah asked, confused.

'How can it be back in that damn frame?!' "Uh…that painting…looks so good," Sam stammered.

Sarah raised her eyebrows and glanced at the painting. "If you can call that monstrosity good, then, yeah, I guess."

"So, what do you know about that painting?" Sam asked quickly, wondering how it was possible for the painting to be intact after burning it last night.

"Not much, just that it creeps me out," Sarah answered. "We sold it to the Telescas at a charity auction the night they were murdered."

Sam nodded, worried. "Yeah, and now, you're just gonna sell it again?"

"As much as my dad wants to, no," Sarah informed him and was internally wishing that she could destroy the painting herself. "I won't let him. I think it'd be in bad taste."

"Good," Sam agreed. "Yeah, you know what? Don't, don't, make sure you don't, okay?"

Sarah was confused. "Why? Don't tell me you're interested in that."

"No, no, God, no, not in buying it, no," Sam protested, dreading the thought. "You know what? I gotta go, I've gotta take care of something. But I will call you back. I will call you. I'll see you later."

"Wait, so, you're not leaving tonight?" Sarah asked, surprised.

Sam shrugged. "No, I guess not. See ya." And he quickly left.

Sarah watched him go, bemused. "Okay…"

Shaken by the sight of the restored painting, the Winchesters got in the Impala.

Sam was freaking out. "I don't understand, Dean, Liz, we burned the damn thing."

"Yeah, thank you, Captain Obvious," Dean said sarcastically. "All right, we just need to figure out another way to get rid of it. Any ideas?"

Sam thought quickly. "Okay, all right, well, um…in almost all the lore about haunted paintings, it's always the painting's subject that haunts them."

Dean nodded, that made sense. "Yeah? All 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?"

The Winchesters went to the local library, and were lucky to find a librarian, who was quick to find what they needed, and was now speaking very quickly. "You said the Isaiah Merchant family, right?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah, that's right." 'Just how much coffee has this guy been drinking?'

"I dug up every scrap of local history I could find," the librarian told them. "So, uh, are you guys crime buffs?"

"Kind of. Why do you ask?" Dean asked, flipping through a book on old-fashion handguns and had paused on a page that had a picture of a Colt on it.

"Well…" the librarian held up a page from an old newspaper; the main headline was about the sinking of the Titanic, but the headline he was pointing to read, "Father Slaughters Family, Kills Self".

"Yes. Yeah, that sounds about right," Dean agreed, exchanging a look with Liz; a murder would explain the haunted painting.

"The whole family was killed?" Sam asked.

The librarian nodded. "It seems this Isaiah - he slits his kids' throats, then his wife, then himself," he answered. "Now, he was a barber by trade - used a straight razor."

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

"Well, let's look." And he turned the newspaper around to read the article. "Uh, "people who knew him described Isaiah as having a stern and harsh temperament and controlled his family with an iron fist." Wife, two sons, adopted daughter - yeah, yeah - there were whispers that the wife was gonna take the kids and leave, which, of course, you know, in that day and age…so, instead, Old Man Isaiah - well, he gave them all a shave." And made a shaving gesture with his hand and laughed. Dean chuckled, but Sam and Liz didn't find it funny in the slightest.

"Does it say what happened to the bodies?" Dean asked, wincing at the glare his siblings were giving him.

The librarian shrugged. "It just says they were all cremated."

Dean, Liz, and Sam all exchange an annoyed look. With no body to burn, this was going to be even harder.

"Anything else?" Sam asked.

The librarian put the newspaper down and picked up a large book. "Yeah. Actually, I found a picture of the family. It's right here somewhere." He flipped to the right page and turned so that the Winchesters could see. "Right. Here it is."

The picture in the book was the same from the painting, except in the book's photo, Isaiah was looking straight ahead while in the painting they'd tried to burn he was looking down at his daughter. Sam noticed this.

"Hey, could we get a copy of this, please?" he requested.

The librarian nodded. "Sure."

Meanwhile at the Auction House, Daniel Blake watched as two workers packed the painting in a box.

Seeing this, Sarah went up to him. "Dad, you promised you wouldn't sell that painting," she exclaimed, worried.

Daniel didn't even looked at her and nodded. "I know, sweetie, but Evelyn's offered a persuasive amount of money."

Sarah glared at her father, disgusted that he would break a promise like that. "You're shameless, you know that?"

Daniel looked at his daughter, but it was obvious that he didn't care in the slightest. "For that kind of money, I can afford to be." And he walked away, leaving his frustrated daughter behind.

Unaware that the painting had a new owner, the Winchesters were sitting at the table back in their motel room, talking.

"I'm telling you, man, I'm sure of it," Sam stated, looking at the copied photo. "Painting at the auction house, Dad is lookin' down. Painting here, Dad's lookin' out. The painting has changed, Dean, Liz."

"I believe it," Liz agreed. "And that alone makes that painting even creepier."

Dean also had to agree. "All right, so, you think Daddy Dearest is trapped in the painting? He's handin' out Columbian neckties like he did with his family?" he asked.

Sam nodded. "Yeah, it seems like it. But if his bones are already dusted, then how are we gonna stop him?"

Dean looked at the photo from the book and frowned; with no human remains to burn, stopping the spirit inside the painting wasn't going to be easy. "All right, well, if Isaiah's position changed, maybe some other things in the painting changed as well," he suggested. "It could give us some clues."

Sam frowned. "What, like a DaVinci Code deal?"

Liz sighed. "Shame we don't have a real Robert Langdon to help us out right now," she said wistfully.

"I don't know, I'm still waitin' for the movie on that one," Dean mumbled; he'd tried to read the book at Liz's request, but kept falling asleep. "Anyway, we gotta get back in and see that painting. Which is a good thing because you can get some more time to crush on your girlfriend," he added slightly and went to lie down on the bed.

"Dude, enough already," Sam protested while Liz snickered. "And you be quiet, Liz."

"No," Liz retorted, grinning as she retreated to the other bed to avoid Sam throwing a wad of paper at her head. "Miss!"

"What?" Dean asked, also grinning; it wasn't that often that both he and Liz got to yank Sam's chain like this.

Sam glared at them both in a very exasperated manner. ""What?" Ever since we got here, you've been tryin' to pimp me out to Sarah. Just back off, all right?"

"Well, you like her, don't you?" Dean asked, Sam didn't respond, but it was obvious by his flustered expression that he did. "All right, you like her, she likes you, and you're both consenting adults…"

Sam sighed, giving up. "What's the point, Dean? We'll just leave. We always leave."

Dean gave him a hurt look. "Well, I'm not talkin' about marriage, Sam."

"You know what, I don't get it. What do you care if I hook up?" Sam asked.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Because then maybe you wouldn't be so cranky all the time." Sam scoffed, and he sat up. "You know, seriously, Sam, this isn't about just hookin' up, okay? I mean, I think this Sarah girl could be good for you," he explained. "And I don't mean any disrespect, but I'm sure that this is about Jessica, right?" and it was obvious from their little brother's expression that he was on the right track. "Now, I don't know what it's like to lose somebody like that, but…I would think that she would want you to be happy." He could see that Sam was close to tears. "God forbid, have fun once in a while. Wouldn't she?" and then a faint smile came and that was a good start.

"Yeah, I know she would," Sam admitted, sighing. "Yeah, you're right. Part of this is about Jessica. But not the main part."

Dean and Liz exchanged a look. What was the main part? "What's it about?" Sam said nothing. "Yeah, all right." Dean leaned back on the bed. "Well, we still gotta see that painting, which means you still gotta call Sarah, so…"

Sam nodded and sighed again; he picked up his phone and dialed her number. "Sarah, hey. It's Sam," he said when she answered and listened. "Hey, hi. Good, good, yeah, um, what about you?" he nodded. "Yeah, good, good, really good."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Smooth," he grumbled and then yelped when Liz threw a pillow at him, prompting a pillow fight.

"So, listen, me, my sister, and my brother were thinking that maybe we'd like to come back in and look at the painting again," he suggested, ignoring the ensuring battle. "I think maybe we are interested in buying it," he added and then paused when Sarah spoke. "What?" he listened again. "Who'd you sell it to?" he asked, getting the attention of his siblings as he stood up, worried. "Sarah, I need an address right now."

Dean and Liz exchanged concerned looks as they dropped their pillows and sprang for their jackets; this wasn't a good sign.

A/N: In case anyone misses it, I put a reference to the Colt in this chapter on purpose since it'll be showing up in the next story. Happy Halloween! R&R everyone!