Dean fell asleep watching a movie and when he woke up in the morning, he noticed Sam hadn't been back. "Sam, you sly dog," he said to himself. He decided to grab a shower. When he got out there was still no sign of Sam, so he decided to get some breakfast.

SSSSSSSSS

"Why are you doing this?" Sam asked Sarah.

"Because you would have found out what I am and you would have killed me," Sarah answered.

"What are you?" Sam asked.

"I'm a witch, of course, silly," Sarah said. "In 1915, I trapped the Merchant family in that painting, just like I've trapped you. Last week, I offered to let them out if they killed the Talescas."

"And they agreed?" Sam asked, incredulous.

"Sam, you forget, I'm reading your mind, you're not actually talking. I know everything you're thinking and feeling. You've been in that painting for twelve hours and you're already in despair. Imagine how you're going to feel in ninety years," Sarah said.

Sam decided not to think about that. "I don't understand, the painting is still there."

"Well, I wasn't completely honest with them. I let them out of the painting to kill the Talesca's but then they snapped back to the portrait. I wasn't completely heartless, though. I set their souls free. I was getting sick of them anyway."

"What does that mean, set their souls free?" Sam asked.

"They're dead now," Sarah said, simply.

"You killed them?" Sam asked.

"Believe me, they're a lot happier than they were in that painting. But I probably won't get sick of you for at least a couple of centuries," Sarah smiled at him. A complete feeling of hopelessness washed over Sam. That made Sarah smile all the more.

"Don't worry, in time you'll forget all about Jessica," Sarah said.

"Jessica? How do you know about her?" Sam asked.

"I told you Sam I can read your mind. You've been thinking about her. Real tragedy, but now you can be happy with me, forever."

"How can I be happy trapped in a painting?" Sam asked. "Please let me out, then we can be happy for real," Sam tried.

"You really don't understand the concept of reading your mind, do you Sam? I know you're just trying to fool me. But don't worry, I'm not mad…yet. "

Sam was wondering what would happen if she got mad.

"I'll put you in storage," she answered his unasked question.

"How is that any worse than this?"Sam asked.

"Oh, believe me, you don't want that. I put the Merchants in storage for ten years for being disrespectful to me, and when I took them out they couldn't have been sweeter. Stuck behind a sheet, not able to see anything, not being able to talk to anybody. See, even when you are with someone else in a painting, when a sheet is over you, you can't hear each other's thoughts."

"Big deal, I don't want to talk to you anyway," Sam said snidely.

"You say that now, but believe me, when I'm all you have, you'll think of me differently. Now that I think of it, maybe I shouldn't trap Dean in with you. I should probably get him his own canvas and stick him straight in storage," she taunted.

"Just leave him alone," Sam said.

"That's not an option," Sarah said. "However, if you play nice until he gets here, I'll put him in with you," she promised.

When Sam cleared his mind, Sarah said, "I'll take that as a yes."

SSSSSSSSS

"Well, I hate to ruin your fun, but we do have work to do," Dean said as he dialed Sam's number.

"This is Sam. Leave me a message."

"Sam, call me when you get this. We have to find out what killed those people," Dean said and hung up. He waited an hour and called again. He got Sam's voice mail again.

"Guess, I'm going to have to go get you, moron," he said. He got into his car and drove over to Sarah's house.