A/N: Thank you for reading this story. I know I haven't updated in a while. I wanna thank Black Dragon 42 for their reviews. They motivated me to finish this chapter. I just want to say that I recently got really into Teen Wolf. I even started a story for that show. That means I probably won't be doing any more of this story until I'm done with the last season of Teen Wolf. The last half of the season starts in a coupe weeks, so that at least gives you a sort of time table. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this chapter, and I hope you feel motivated enough to leave a review. I love reading them.
The next morning, we wake up to a banging on the door. I open my eyes and notice that we've changed to a spooning position. I'm the little spoon. As my eyes start to focus my ears pick up something else.
"Hey, guys. It's time to get up." I hear Sam's voice. I groan.
"Dean." I whisper. I hear him groan in my ear.
"Come on guys." Sam says, still banging on the door. "I have breakfast."
"Baby," I try to wake Dean again. "Go let Sammy in." I feel him move his head and kiss the back of my neck.
"And let him see you all exposed?" He whispers in his deep, husky, morning voice.
"I'll take my clothes into the bathroom. I need to take a shower anyway."
"Fine." He groans. I sit up in bed, taking the sheet with me. As I get some clean clothes from my bag Dean puts his boxers and a pair of jeans on. I head to the bathroom when he heads to the door to let Sammy in.
Once I close the door to the bathroom I drop the sheet around me. I turn the shower on, and I step in when it's warm enough. I let the warm water wash away the sweat from last night. I think about what happened and smile. God, he's the best sex I've ever had. I know that seems cliché, but it's true. When we were dating on and off I tried to go with some other guys, and they never lived up to Dean. And that's in body and personality.
I wash my hair and body before turning the water off. I get out and dry myself off with a towel before getting dressed. I wrap my hair in the towel and walk out of the bathroom, dragging the sheet behind me.
"Hey," I hear Dean say with a mouth full of food. "You want a donut?" He asks, holding out the box to me.
"Please don't talk with your mouth full. It's disgusting." I laugh at him. I grab a donut from the box as I drop the sheet. Sam holds out a cup of coffee to me, and I take it gratefully. "So," I say as I finish my donut. "Where are we heading?" I take a sip of coffee and look between the two in front of me.
"Well last night, while trying to ignore the sounds coming through the walls," Dean smiles at me. I smile back as Sam continues. "I was looking through a few newspapers."
"And?" I ask, taking another donut from the box, now on the table. He tosses a newspaper at Dean, who catches it.
"Mark and Ann Telesca of New Paltz, New York were both found dead in their own home, a few days ago." Sam starts. Dean pulls me into his lap and we look at the article together. "Throats were slit. There were no prints, no murder weapons, all doors and window locked from the inside."
"Could just be a garden variety murder you know, not our department." Dean states as he steals the donut in my hand and takes a bite.
"No. Dad says different." Sam says.
"What do you mean?" I ask. He opens John's journal and hands it to me. I look at the pages as Sam explains.
"Dad noted three murders in the same area of upstate New York. First one here in 1912," Sam says pointing to the notes. "Second one in 1945, and the third in 1970, the same M.O. as the Telescas. Their throats were slit; doors were locked from the inside. Now so much time had passed between murders that nobody checked the pattern, except Dad. He kept his eyes peeled for another one."
"And now we got one." Dean says.
"Exactly." Sam says.
"All right, I'm with ya. It's worth checking out." Dean says.
"Speaking of. When's check out again?" I ask, taking another sip of my coffee.
"Noon, I think." Sam answers. I grab Dean's left arm and look at the time displayed on his watch.
"It's a little after eleven." I say. I drop Dean's arm and stand from his lap. "We should get going." I put down my coffee and lean forward to unwrap my hair. I dry my hair as much as possible before standing up and throwing the towel to the ground. I look for my bag, but notice that Dean had been staring at my ass. "Put your eyes back in your head, Big Boy." I smile at him. I dig through my bag for my hairbrush, and head to the bathroom mirror after finding it. I quickly brush my hair and put it into a half-up-half-down hairdo.
"I'm gonna head back to my room and pack up." I hear Sam say. "I'll meet you guys at the car."
"Yup." Dean says. He joins me in the bathroom with his toothbrush and toothpaste. He also has my toothbrush. "Might need this." He says. I smile and take it from him. He hands me the tube of toothpaste after he's done with it, and we spend about two minutes cleaning our pearly whites. I mean, we have to take care of our teeth, it's not like we go to the dentist. Once done with that, we double-check the entire room to make sure we don't leave clothes or books.
"I think we're all set." I say as I stand from checking under the bed. Who knows where we could've thrown our clothes last night? Well, I head over to my bag, zip it up, and pick it up before meeting Dean at the door. As I pass by, he steals a deep kiss from me. It makes me giggle. "Alright, calm your sex pistol." I say as I walk out of the room and down to the car.
"He's as calm as he can be, babe." Dean says, a big smile plastered on his face. We get to the car, and pack our bags in the trunk before checking out of our rooms and heading out on the road to our next case. As we get closer to our destination I ask Sam a question.
"Did you check out the history of the house they were living in?"
"Yeah." Sam answers. "There' nothing strange about the house or the Telescas."
"All right, so if it's not the people and it's not the house, then maybe it's the contents." Dean says from the Driver's seat.
"Like a cursed object?" I ask.
"We'll have to check it once we get there." Sam answers. We arrive at the house and park outside. All of us get out and head inside. The boys pull out their EMF detectors as I walk around looking for an item that could be cursing the place. It's weird. There is absolutely nothing here, no furniture, no cooking utensils, no dishes or glasses in the cabinets. It's almost like no one ever lived here.
"Umm, guys where's all their stuff?" I ask from the kitchen. They soon join me, telling me that the EMF's didn't pick up anything strange. "Well, if there's a cursed object it's gonna be with all their other things."
"Right." Dean says. "But where are their things?" He asks as we exit the house.
"Excuse me?" A voice says in front of us. It's a woman in a nice blazer and patching pencil skirt with a white shirt. "I'm the realtor for this house. What can I help you with?"
"Umm." I say trying to stall to think of something. "Yes," I grab Dean's arm. "I'm Shelby, I was a college friend of Ann Telesca. This is my boyfriend, Dean, and his brother Sam." I introduce us. "I heard about the horrible news and wanted to see if I could get something of hers to remember her and Mark by." I put on a sympathetic expression.
"Oh, well, umm. Their things were sent to the auction house." The woman informs us.
"Could you point us in the right direction?" I ask.
"Sure." The woman ends up giving us directions to the auction house, and we thank her before driving there.
"That was some convincing acting, babe." Dean says as we get out of the Impala at the auction house.
"Why thank you." I say with a slight bow. "I learned from the best."
"Me?" He asks.
"No." I say, laughing. "My dad." Sam joins me in the laughing as we head inside. We've calmed down by the time we reach the door. We walk in and look around at all the interesting and ornate pieces labeled with item numbers. "Wow." I say in awe. "There are so many gorgeous pieces."
"We have to try and find the items from the Telesca's house, Shel." Sam says, trying to focus me.
"Consignment auctions, estate sales. Looks like a garage sale for Wasps if you ask me." Dean states as he looks through the food items on a nearby table. He grabs a few little snacks from the table and off a tray of a man walking around.
"Can I help you miss, and gentlemen?" A man's voice says behind us. We turn to look at an older man in a nice suit. He looks at Dean and his mouth full of food. I roll my eyes at the man I call a boyfriend.
"I'd like some champagne please." Dean asks in a mock posh voice.
"What did I tell you about talking with your mouth full?" I whisper harshly at him.
"And, he's not a waiter." Sam adds. Dean seems to brush it off a bit as Sam introduces himself to the man. "I'm Sam Connors." He puts out his hand for the man to shake, but he's left hanging. Sam continues to introduce the rest of us. "That's my brother Dean, and his girlfriend Shelby." He gestures to each of us. "Hopefully more than that soon." I hear him whisper under his breath. Both Dean and I shoot glares his way. "We're art dealers, with Connors Limited."
"You're art dealers?" He asks, not believing a word. I don't blame 'im. We aren't exactly dressed the part.
"That's right." I say, smiling at the man.
"I'm Daniel Blake, this is my auction house." The man informs us. "Now gentlemen and miss this is a private showing, and I don't remember seeing you on the guest list." He doesn't seem amused at our being here. Sam seems to get a bit nervous as Dean pipes up.
"We're there chuckles, you just need to take another look." I lightly jab him in the gut with my elbow. Not enough to double him over, but enough to stop him from continuing. I guess he never learned manners in his life. We see a waiter go by with glasses of champagne. "Oh. Finally." He says, grabbing a glass from the waiter's tray. He sniffs the glass, and raises his eyebrows at the man. I pull him away form the owner of this business. Sam will be much more successful on his own.
"What was that?" I ask him seriously.
"What?" He asks, sipping the champagne.
"You can't even act like you have some sort of class stuffed in that gorgeous body of yours?" I ask. "This is why I didn't say I learned my acting skills from you."
"Ouch." He says. Both of us turn to the items around us. "So, do you think Sammy wants a sister-in-law? Or was that just part of his act?"
"I don't know." I answer. "Maybe a bit of both."
"Hey," Sam says, coming up behind us. "He's gonna let us look around for a bit."
"Cool." I reply as I look around at the items up for auction. We look through drawers and cabinets. Suddenly, I come to a large portrait of a family. I stand in front of it, and wonder what the meaning of the father looking to the daughter was supposed to mean. The guys walk up behind me. "This looks so creepy." I state.
"Agreed." The boys say simultaneously.
"A fine example of American Primitive wouldn't you say?" A woman's voice says behind us. All three of us look to the woman walking down the spiral staircase behind us. She's dressed in a classy, sleek, black dress. Sam looks back at the painting as Dean continues ogling the woman. He slaps Sam on the back, and I roll my eyes at his actions.
"Well I'd say it's more Grant Wood than Grandma Moses." Sam answers the woman. "But you knew that, you just wanted to see if I did."
"Guilty." She states with a smile. "And clumsy. I apologize." I watch as Dean grabs some more snacks from a waiter's tray. "I'm Sarah Blake." He shoves a whole mini-quiche in his mouth as Sam introduces us.
"I'm Sam. This is my..." He finally sees Dean with his mouth full once again. "Brother, Dean."
"And, sadly I'm Dean's girlfriend." I say with a smile.
"Dean." Sarah says to the person that goes with the name. "Can we get you some more mini-quiche?" I look at Dean's hands and notice two more there.
"No, he's good." I say harshly as I grab one of them from his hand. He looks at me and I glare at him. Sarah turns her attention back to Sam.
"So, can I help you with something?" She asks.
"Yeah, actually." Sam says. "Um, what can you tell us about the Telesca estate?"
"The whole thing's pretty grisly if you ask me, selling your things this soon. But Dad's right about one thing, sensationalism brings out the crowds." She answers. "Even the rich ones." She doesn't break eye contact with Sam, and Sam is the same with her. Dean and I look between the two, feeling a bit awkward.
"Is it possible to see the provenances?" Sam asks her. She goes to answer when the man from before walks over.
"I'm afraid there isn't any chance of that." The man says.
"Why not?" Sam asks.
"You're not on the guest list." He says, looking at Sam. Then he snaps his view to Dean and I. "And I think it's time to leave."
"Well we don't have to be told twice." Dean says in a faux posh voice again.
"Apparently you do." The man says sternly.
"Okay. It's all right." Sam says. "We don't want any trouble. We'll go." I grab Dean's arm again, and pull him towards the exit. He tries to grab some more food, but I slap his hand away from the trays.
"You've had enough." Dean rolls his eyes at my words as we walk out to the car. We get in the car and head to a local motel. We check in and head to our room to try and figure this out.
"Grant Wood, Grandma Moses?" Dean asks Sam as we head to our one room with two beds.
"Art history course. It's good for meeting girls." Sam answers him.
"It's like I don't even know you." Dean says as he unlocks the door and we head inside. We stop to look at the room after closing the door. It's so over the top retro 70s vibe is throwing me and the boys off a little. I think I visibly shiver as I see the tiny disco ball hanging from the ceiling.
"Ugh." I groan as the boys say 'huh' simultaneously. They walk forward and call beds. I just stand there in some form of shock.
"What's wrong, babe? Not diggin' the groovy vide?" Dean laughs at me. I glare at him.
"No." I say as I throw my bag on a nearby chair. He continues to chuckle as he starts asking Sam questions.
"Now, what was the providence?" Dean asks.
"Prov-e-nance." I sound out the word to him. " It's an N not a D."
"Yeah, anyway, it's a certificate of origin, like a biography, you know. We can use them to check the history of the pieces, see if any of them have a freaky past." Sam explains. I watch as they both start unpacking. I just walk over and sit on the bed Dean's things are on.
"Huh. Well, we're not getting anything out of chuckles, but uh Sarah..." Dean says, snapping his fingers and pointing to his brother.
"Yeah, maybe you can get her to write it all down on a cocktail napkin." Sam suggests.
"I don't know about that, Sammy." I smile at him. "She looked like she was really into you." He smiles at me before denying my comment.
"No, no, no. Pick ups are his thing." Sam deflects.
"It wasn't my butt she was checking out." Dean says. Sam looks up and pauses before speaking in response.
"In other words, you want me to use her to get information."
"Sometimes you gotta take one for the team." Dean says.
"How come Shel doesn't have to seduce information out of anyone?" Sam asks.
"Don't be a child." I say. "If she had been checking me out, it would've been me in your place, but it's you Sammy." I smirk at him. I look over at Dean and I can tell he's thinking about what I just said. "Get your mind outta the gutter, short stuff."
"I'm not short." He defends.
"Compared to me, you're not, but Sammy's got you by about a head." I take out my phone and hand it to Sam. "You should call 'er. Go out to a really nice place for dinner, maybe a movie?"
"Alright, fine." Sam says snatching the phone from my hands. He dials her number and walks outside the room to talk on the phone.
"So," Dean says, getting my attention. "Would you really 'ave gone out with the girl?" He asks me.
"Sure, if I needed information from 'er." I say, laying back on the bed.
"Mmm."
"Can you not be a perv?" I giggle.
"I'm sorry, but this is kinda what you signed up for, pretty lady." He says, leaning down to meet me in a short peck on the lips. A minute passes and Sam comes back in. He tells us that he's going out with her tonight. As he gets ready I see him fuss over what he's planning to wear.
"He, hey, hey, calm down." I say, pushing him to sit on the bed. "I will pick out something for you to wear, kiddo." I say as I ruffle his hair. I go to his bag and search for his nicer clothing. I find a nice black blazer, some black slacks, and a simple white button-up shirt. "Okay," I say, holding the pieces of clothing out to him. "Put these on." He takes them from me, and he heads into the bathroom. A few minutes go by before the younger Winchester emerges from the bathroom.
"So," He says. "How do I look?" He asks. I look at the outfit and gesture for him to turn around.
"I think you look very nice." I say as he turns to face Dean and I again. "Go get 'er tiger." I say. He shoots a smile my way and heads out to have dinner with a pretty lady.
"Hey." Dean says from behind me on the bed. He's been lying there since Sam went into the bathroom to change. I turn to him as he continues to speak. "You getting' hungry?" He asks me.
"Yeah." I answer as I lay down next to him. "What were you thinking of eating?" Stupid question.
"Bacon cheeseburger." We both say at the same time. I giggle as he looks down at me.
"Am I that predictable?" he asks.
"One hundred percent, babe." I answer. "Well," I sit up and stand from the bed. "Let's go eat some cheap, greasy, fatty, food. I am starving."
"You're always starving." He says. "I don't think you really know what starving is." He jokes. Both of us laugh as we exit the room, and lock up before heading to the car to find a diner in town. We eventually find one and head inside and sit at a booth across from each other. A waitress comes over and hands us some menus. She throws a flirtatious smile at Dean, and he returns it.
"Um, could my boyfriend and I get a few beers?" I ask her. Her face falls a little. She nods and walks away to get our beverages. "Why didn't she think we were together?" I ask under my breath.
"I wouldn't worry about it, Shel." Dean answers. "I just throw off that bachelor vibe." He jokes trying to cheer me up.
"Yeah, well, try to reign it in a bit." I reply as I look through the items on the menu. I see that they have chicken and cheese quesadillas, and suddenly I am craving it like crazy. Usually I have a burger like Dean, but I can't ignore my cravings. The waitress comes back and sets two bottles of beer on the table.
"Have you decided on what you would like to eat?" She asks.
"Uh, yeah," Dean starts. "I'll have the double bacon cheeseburger, and she'll have…" He squints at me, trying to read my mind. "Two orders of the chicken quesadilla with extra sour cream." The waitress looks at me and I smile at her. She looks me up and down before writing on her notepad. She takes our menus and rolls her eyes as she walks to the back kitchen.
"You know me so well." I smile at him.
"Well, I gotta know how to keep my girl happy." He answers. We talk a bit about the case until our food comes. As we eat, we're silent; savoring the taste of the food. We finish, pay, and head back to the hotel room. As we take inventory of our weapons and ammo, Sam comes through the door. Sam changes into more comfortable clothes as he explains what he talked to Sarah about. I start cleaning one of the handguns as Dean starts sharpening one of his knives. "So she just handed the providences over to you?" Dean asks him.
"Provenances, Dean." I correct him. Sam rolls his eyes as he looks over the papers in his hands.
"Provenances?"
"Yes." I answer.
"We went back to her place, I got a copy of the papers..." Sam pauses, giving Dean enough time to pipe in.
"And?"
"And nothing. That's it. I left." Sam answers. Good on you Sam, but I'm sure Sarah wanted more.
"You didn't have to con her or do any...special favors or anything like that?" Dan asks. Sam is getting visually irritated now.
"Dean, would you get your mind out of the gutter, please?" Sam says.
"Yeah, Dean. Sarah seems like a respectable woman." I say with a smile. "But I totally think that she wanted to ride Sammy into the night." I laugh, and Dean joins in my laughter.
"Come on, guys." Sam says. Once our laughter stops Dean speaks up.
"You know when this whole thing's done, we could stick around for a little bit."
"Why?" Sam asks his brother.
"So you could take her out again. It's obvious you're into her, even I could see that." Dean states. I nod in agreement as I put my gun back together. It's nice and polished and clean now.
"Hey, alright, I think I got something here." Sam says. Dean stops sharpening the blade in his hand, and both of us stand on either side of the chair Sam is sitting in. He hands the papers to Dean, who reads it.
"Portrait of Isaiah Merchant's family, painted 1910."
"Now compare the names of the owners with Dad's journal." Sam points out. I go over to the small table with John's journal opened to the page in question. I sit in the chair and Dean stands next to me.
"First purchased in 1912, Peter Simms." Dean reads the provenances. I look at the page of the journal and point to the 1912 date.
"Peter Simms murdered 1912." I say out loud. This is creepy.
"1945?" Dean asks. My finger points to the description for the 1945 murder. "1970?" My finger moves again.
"Same thing." I say.
"After the last owner died it was stored, until it was donated to a charity auction last month. Where the Telescas bought it." Sam explains. "So what do you think, it's haunted? Or cursed?"
"Either way, it's toast." Dean says. Quickly we get ready to go to the auction house to burn the painting. It needs to be destroyed. Once we get to the building we hop the fence, disarm the alarm, pick the lock, and find the painting on the second floor. Dean cuts the canvas out of the frame and we leave as fast as possible. We drive to an abandoned area and burn it, Dean calling it an ugly painting. After it's turned to charcoal, we head back to the hotel. I fall asleep fast, wrapped in Dean's arms.
The next morning, as we're getting ready to leave when Dean starts frantically searching around the room for something.
"Hey, what're you looking for, babe?" I ask him.
"I can't find my wallet." Dean says, panicking a bit. Sam starts chuckling to himself. "This is your problem, too." He says pointing to his younger brother.
"How is that my problem?"
"Cause I think I dropped it in the warehouse last night." Dean answers.
"You've got to be kidding, babe." I say as he hurriedly puts his jacket over his other two layers of shirts.
"No. It's got my prints, my ID, well my fake ID anyway. We gotta get it before someone else finds it. Come on." He says quickly. We rush over to the auction house and look around for Dean's wallet.
"How do you lose your wallet, Dean?" Sam asks in a harsh whisper. Dean just shrugs as we continue to look around.
"Hey guys." I hear Sarah greet from behind us. We all turn around to face her. Dean leans casually on the object closest to him as Sam starts talking to Sarah.
"Sarah! Hey." Sam says. I look over at Dean and notice something in his pocket. I just look at him confused.
"What are you doing here?" Sarah asks. Dean looks to me, realizing that I knew what he was doing. He holds up a finger to his lips, telling me to not say anything.
"Ahh, we..." Sam stumbles as he looks back at us for help. We shrug, causing him to turn back to Sarah. "We are leaving town and, you know, we came to say goodbye." Dean jumps up to the two, me close behind.
"What are you talking about Sam, we're sticking around for at least another day or two." Dean says. Sam shoots him a look of confusion as Dean reaches for the object in his back pocket. "Oh, Sam. By the way, I'm gonna go ahead and give you that $20 I owe you." I try not to laugh as Sam's expression changes to one of realization. Dean then turns to Sarah as he takes some cash out to give to Sam. "I always forget, you know." Sam looks to me and I shrug my shoulders. Dean holds the twenty-dollar bill out to his brother. "There you go." Sam takes the cash, shooting a glare at his brother.
"Well we'll leave you two crazy kids alone, we gotta go do something... somewhere." I say to Sarah with a smile. I grab Dean's arm and we head outside quickly. I sit on the trunk of the Impala and Dean stands between my legs. It doesn't take us long to start making out right there in the parking lot. Sam interrupted our fun almost running over to us.
"Guys, we got a problem." The young Winchester says, causing Dean and I to break apart. "Really?" He asks. "In the parking lot?" We try to catch our breath as Sam heads to the passenger seat. Dean pecks me on the lips one more time before helping me off the trunk. We get in the car and Sam explains what's going on. "The painting is in there."
"What?" Dean and I say simultaneously. Obviously he wouldn't lie to us about this.
"I don't understand. We burned the damn thing." Sam says
"Yeah, thank you Captain Obvious." Dean says a bit on edge.
"Calm down, all right?" I say as the level headed, and less panicky person here. "We just need to figure out another way to get rid of it."
"Any ideas?" Dean asks Sam and I.
"Okay, all right. Well, um, in almost all the lore about haunted paintings it's always the painting's subject that haunts 'em." Sam points out.
"Yeah." Dean says. "So we just need to figure out everything there is to know about that creepy-ass family and that creepy-ass painting."
"What were their names again?" I ask.
"It's the Isaiah Merchant family." Sam answers.
"Alright, let's get to somewhere with some old books." I say. The boys nod and Dean drives us to a second hand bookstore. We walk in and ask the owner if there is anything that could help us with some research on the Isaiah Merchant family. He seems excited, and gets us some old dusty books to look through. He sets them on a table and dust plumes into the air.
"You said the Isaiah Merchant family right?" The man asks.
"Yeah." Sam answers. I see Dean flipping through an older book of guns.
"I dug up every scrap of local history I could find." The owner of the bookshop says. "So are you three crime buffs?" Dean looks to me, then Sam, before answering.
"Kinda. Yeah. Why do you ask?"
"Well…" The man holds up an old newspaper article and points to a small article on the side of the page. It's title reads: 'Father Slaughters Family, Kills Self.'
"Yes. Yeah, that sounds about right." Dean says.
"The whole family was killed?" Sam asks.
"It seems this Isaiah, he slits his kids' throats, then his wife, then himself. Now he was a barber by trade. Used a straight razor." The man explains.
"Why'd he do it?" I ask. The older man turns the page around so he could read the article.
"Let's look. Ahh…" The man says as he starts to read. "People who knew him describe Isaiah as having a stern and harsh temperament. Controlled his family with an iron fist. Wife, uh, two sons, adopted daughter..." As he reads the three of us share a look. "Yeah yeah yeah..." He says after skimming a bit. "There were whispers that the wife was gonna take the kids and leave." Ooo, harsh. "Which of course you know in that day and age, um," He tries to explain the obvious. "So instead, old man Isaiah...well he gave them all a shave." The older man smiles and makes a cutting motion across his neck. Dean smiles along, but Sam and I shoot him looks telling him to stop. Dean's face becomes a bit more serious as he turns back to the older man.
"Does it say what happened to the bodies?" Dean asks.
"Just that they were all cremated." The man answers with a straight face. The three of us share a look.
"Anything else?" Sam asks.
"Yeah. Actually," The man says as he grabs a book from the table. "I found a picture of the family. It's right here... somewhere. Right," He opens the book to a marked page and turns it around so we can see it. "Here it is." I take in the photo and realize that it's not how the one I've seen in person looks. In this one the man is looking straight ahead and not at the girl next to him. What is going on?
"Hey, could we get a copy of this please?" Sam asks. He must've seen what I saw.
"Sure." The man answers and walks away to make a copy of the page with the picture of the painting. He gets back with the copy and we head back to the hotel. On the way Sam and I try to convince Dean that the painting is different from what it originally was. We get into the room and Sam shows him the copy of the original portrait we received from the older man.
"I'm telling you man, I'm sure of it. The painting at the auction house, Dad is looking down. Painting here, Dad's looking out. The painting has changed, Dean." Sam insists.
"All right, so you think that Daddy dearest is trapped in the painting and is handing out Columbian neckties like he did with his family?" Dean asks.
"Yes." Sam and I say at the same time.
"That's what it seems like anyway." I add.
"But if his bones are already dusted then how are we gonna stop him?" Sam asks.
"All right, well," Dean says, taking a closer look at the picture. "If Isaiah's position changed then maybe some other things in the painting changed as well. You know it could give us some clues."
"What, like a Da Vinci Code deal?" Sam asks. Dean looks at Sam. He has no clue what Sam is talking about.
"Yes, Sammy." I answer. "He's still waiting for the movie." I comment.
"Anyway, we gotta get back in and see that painting." Dean says. "Which is a good thing cause you can get some more time to crush on your girlfriend." He says as he stands from the small table and walks over to the bed on the right and sits, leaning against the pillows and headboard. He gestures for me to join him as Sam speaks.
"Dude. Enough already." I stand from my seat and head over to the bed.
"What?" Dean asks as he crosses his legs. I sit next to him and wrap my right arm around his left arm.
"What? Ever since we got here, you been trying to pimp me out to Sarah." Sam says, irritated. "Just back off, all right?"
"Well, you like 'er don't you?" Dean asks. Sam just shakes his head and looks to the ceiling. "All right, you like her, she likes you, you're both consenting adults..."
"What's the point, Dean?" Sam's voice rising a bit. "We'll just leave. We always leave.
"Well I'm not talking about marriage, Sam." Dean defends
"You know, I don't get it. What do you care if I hook up?" Sam's agitation clear in his voice.
"Cause then maybe you wouldn't be so cranky all the time." Dean states simply.
"Dean, stop." I say, trying not to laugh. "Sam can do whatever he wants, and you don't have to help anything along."
"Thank you." Sam says.
"But, Sammy, maybe Sarah could be good for you." I say as I sit up. Sam just stays quiet as he scratches his head. "And... I don't mean any disrespect but I'm sure this is about Jessica, right?" He still refuses to speak. "I would think that she would want you to be happy." I say in a soft voice. I see the tears are building up in his eyes.
"God forbid have fun once in a while." Dean says. I hold up a hand to tell him to stop talking. "Wouldn't she?" He asks anyway.
"Yeah I know she would." Sam whispers softly. He thinks about it before letting out a breath. "Yeah you're right. Part of this is about Jessica." He admits. "But not the main part."
"What's it about?" Dean asks. Sam doesn't answer. "Yeah all right." He lies back in the bed and crosses his arms. "Well we still gotta see that painting, which means you still gotta call Sarah, so..." He hints at Sam needing to call the woman. Sam picks up his phone and calls Sarah. I lay back down with Dean as Sam clears his throat and takes a breath. I snuggle closer to Dean and rest my eyes as Sam starts to talk.
"Sarah, hey, it's Sam…Hey, hi…Good. Good, yeah. Umm. What about you?" We can only hear one side of the conversation. "Yeah good, good, really good…"
"Smooth." Dean whispers across the room to Sam as I giggle a little.
"So, ah, so listen. Me, my brother, and Shelby were...uh...thinking that maybe we'd like to come back in and look at the painting again. I... I think maybe we are interested in buying it." Sam pauses for Sarah to speak. "What!?" His tone of voice changed and I can hear him stand from his seat. I open my eyes and sit up, as does Dean. "Who'd you sell it to?" Sam asks her as he stands from his chair. "Sarah I need an address right now." He hangs up after a pause, and the three of us rush to the address given. We pull into the driveway and Sam gets out before Dean is even able to park the car. Once the car is off, Dean and I meet Sam and Sarah by her car.
"Sam, what's happening?" Sarah asks. Her voice is filled with worry.
"I told you, you shouldn't have come." Sam answers her as he walks past her. The brothers and I run up the front steps, Sarah on our heels. The boys bang on the door and try to get someone to answer the door.
"You said Evelyn might be in danger, what sort of danger?" The woman says as she stands next to me. I decide to try and look through the front window. They're barred and the curtains were drawn closed.
"I can't knock this sucker down. I gotta pick it." I hear Dean say. Sam comes up next to me and both of us are banging on the window, hoping someone will come and see what the noise is.
"What are you guys, burglars?" Sarah asks.
"If only it were that simple." I say as Sam and I stop banging on the window and head back to the door.
"Look you really should wait in the car. It's for your own good." Sam tells her. Finally Dean picks the lock and we are able to get inside.
"The hell I will. Evelyn's a friend." Sarah replies as she follows us inside. We all try to call out for the woman, but there is no answer. We walk into a sitting room. A woman sits in a fancy armchair, but something's not right. She's too still. I don't even think she's breathing. "Evelyn?" Sarah says as she walks up to the very still woman. I look up at the painting, already hanging in the room. Sam and I were right. The man was facing the girl and not out at the viewer. "It's Sarah Blake... Are you alright?" The woman reaches out to touch the shoulder of her friend.
"Sarah, don't." Sam protests, but it's too late. As soon as she makes contact the older dead woman's head moves to reveal a large gash on her neck. In fact, that is an understatement. The cut went about half way through the poor woman's neck. Sarah screams, and Sam tries to keep her from falling to the ground. She looks up at the painting and the man's image changed. He is now looking to us. Her scream intensifies. Sam leads her out of the house. I let out a breath and look to Dean. He comes over to me and puts an arm around my shoulder as we walk out together.
We get in the Impala and wait for Sam to finish his conversation with Sarah. Once he sits in the car and shuts his door he tells us that she's gonna call the cops once we're gone. Then, she's gonna meet us at our motel room after she's done talking with the authorities. So, we head back to our motel and do some research. Sam paces the room, waiting for Sarah to arrive. I look through some of the books we have, making sure we know how to defeat this thing. And Dean is looking up the history of the family and figuring out where the family was put to rest. A couple hours go by before a knock is heard on the door. All of us look up as Sam answers the door.
"Hey." He says as Sarah storms past him, into the room. "You alright?"
"No, actually," She says as she gets to the center of the room and turns to Sam. "I just lied to the cops and told them I went to Evelyn's, alone, and found her like that." Sam walks over and stands in front of Dean. Sarah looks between all three of us. I look to Dean. He's smiling as he looks between Sam and Sarah.
"Thank you." Sam says, breathing a sigh of relief.
"Don't thank me, I'm about to call them right back if you don't tell me what the hell's going on." She threatens. "Who's killing these people?" The three of us share a look, trying to decide if we should really tell her. I shrug my shoulders and Dean raises his eyebrows. Sam turns back to Sarah.
"What." Sam says.
"What?" Sam asks, confused.
"It's not 'who'. It's 'what' is killing those people." Sam clarifies. Sarah still seems confused. "Sarah, you saw that painting move."
"No...No I was...I was seeing things. It's impossible." She second-guesses what her own eyes saw as she paces in a small circle.
"Yeah well, welcome to our world." Dean says. Sarah looks to him, then to me. I nod, telling her that it's true.
"Sarah, I know this sounds crazy." Sam says to Sarah. She turns back to him as he continues to speak. "But we think that that painting is haunted." I can tell she still doesn't believe us.
"You're joking." She says. Her voice is slightly wavering. She looks at Sam, then Dean, then me. All of us just look at her with serious expressions. "You're not joking." She sighs in realization. "God, the guys I go out with."
"Sarah, think about it. Evelyn, the Telesca's," Sam says, naming off the owners of the painting as he counts them on his fingers. "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." Sam explains. "And that's the truth." Sarah takes a breath before saying anything.
"Then I guess you'd better show me. I'm coming with you." She says, now determined to help us. That seemed too easy for some reason.
"What?" I ask.
"No. Sarah no, you should just go home. This stuff can get dangerous and" Sam says. He pauses thinking about how to say the next thing in the right way. "And I don't want you to get hurt." Aww, Sammy cares for her. I get off the bed and head over to see if Dean was getting anywhere with his research.
"Look, you guys are probably crazy," Sarah starts. "But if you're right about this? Well me and my Dad sold that painting that mighta got these people killed." I finally make it over to Dean and I look over his shoulder at the screen. I put my hands on his shoulders and gently massage away some of his stress. "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." I like her. Sarah goes over to the door and opens it, looking back at us. "So are we going or what?" With that she walks out. I giggle before kissing the top of dean's head. I walk over to get my jacket as Dean speaks.
"Sam?" Dean gets his brother's attention. "Marry that girl." He says, pointing to the door the girl just left through.
"I have to agree." I say. "I like her." Eventually we all head back to Evelyn's house. We need to figure out how to stop this painting from killing people. As Sam picks the lock, Sarah speaks.
"Ahhh... isn't this a crime scene?" She asks.
"You've already lied to the cops." Dean answers as he pulls a box cutter from his jacket. "What's another infraction?" He cuts the police tape on the door as Sam finishes with the lock. We all walk in and head to the room with the painting. Sam takes it from the wall and props it on the couch. He takes a closer look, trying to figure out what other things could be different from how the painting was originally. I look to Sarah as she looks around nervously. All of us are so quiet we can hear the clock in the room tick clearly.
"Aren't you worried that it's...gonna kill us?" Sarah asks.
"Nah, it seems to do its thing at night." Sam answers, looking to her then back at the painting. "I think we're all right in the daylight." I look at the photocopy of what the painting was originally, the paper in Dean's hands. I notice something a bit off in the bottom left corner. I point it out to Dean and he speaks.
"Sam, check it out." Dean says, handing the paper to Sam. "The razor, it's closed in this one but it's open in that one." Sam double-checks what we've found.
"What are you guys looking for?" Sarah asks yet another question.
"Well if the spirit's changing details in the painting, maybe it's doing so for a reason." I answer her.
"Hey, hey look at this." Sam says. He points to the top right corner of the painting. "The painting in the painting." Dean walks closer as I stay back with Sarah.
"Looks like a crypt, or a mausoleum or something." Dean says. He looks around as Sam grunts in agreement. He points to a coffee table behind me. "Shel, hand me that ashtray."
"What's the magic word?" I tease.
"Really?" He looks a bit irritated, but as he makes eye contact with me he sighs. "Fine. Please, pass me the ashtray?" He holds out his hand, and I place the glass in aforementioned hand. He then holds it up to the painting in the painting to read the name on the mausoleum. "Merchant." He says. With that information we head to search the local cemeteries to find this crypt. The first two were duds; so as we are halfway through searching the third one Dean pipes up to voice his doubts about this lead. "This is the third bone yard we've checked. I think this ghost is jerking us around."
"Stop whining, babe. It wouldn't just lead us around for no reason." I say, walking next to him. He chuckles at my optimism and puts an arm around my shoulders.
"So this is what you guys do for a living?" I hear Sarah ask Sam as they walk behind us.
"Not exactly." Sam answers.
"Yeah, we don't get paid." I say loud enough for them to hear.
"Well, Mazel tov." She says. Dean slows his walking, and I look ahead to see exactly what we were looking for.
"I told you." I say in Dean's ear.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah." He says to me. "Over there." He says loud enough for Sam and Sarah to hear. As we walk closer to the mausoleum, Dean unwraps his arm from my shoulders and starts breaking the lock. Once the lock is dealt with, we open the door and head inside. I see the cobwebs and step back, behind Sarah. The boys look at me and they seem confused. "What's wrong with you?" Dean chuckles.
"I see you forgot that I don't do bugs, insects, arachnids, etcetera." I say, crossing my arms in front of me. They roll their eyes and clear the cobwebs as they walk inside. Sarah soon follows. I stand at the doorway as the three of them look around. Sarah walks over to a display on the far end of the room
"Okay, that right there," She says. "Is the creepiest things I've ever seen."
"It was a... sort of tradition at the time." Sam comments. "Whenever a child died sometimes they'd preserve the kid's favorite toy in a glass case, put it next to the headstone or crypt." A strong wind blows against me, almost wanting to push me inside the crowded small room. There are probably a ton of bugs hiding out in there.
"You notice anything strange here?" Dean asks. I look to the urns and realize that there are only four of them.
"Ah...where do I start?" Sarah comments.
"That's not what he means." I say from the doorway. They turn to me. "There are only four urns displayed." Sarah and Sam look to the creepy displays.
"Mom and the three kids." Sam comments.
"Daddy dearest isn't here." Dean says.
"So, where is he?" Sam asks.
"I guess we have to figure that out." I say. "Now can we get outta here?" I ask.
"Yeah, yeah, ya big scaredy cat." Dean says as he comes out of the mausoleum. He grabs me around the waist, and pulls me close, as we walk back to the car. He kisses the top of my head before releasing me. We get in the car and wait for Sam and Sarah. Then we drive into town. Dean parks in front of the town hall and heads inside to find the death certificate. Sarah and Sam get out and sit on a nearby wall.
I decide to try and get a little nap in as I lay down in the back seat of the Impala. As I fall asleep I start to feel very warm. The warmth becomes scalding. I feel like my skin is burning off. I open my eyes to see nothing but bright flames surrounding me. I try to escape the blaze, but it just gets hotter if I try to move at all. I start to scream for help with the rest of the voices I can barely hear over my own. I feel something stab into my side. Blood runs from the wound.
"Shelby?" A soft almost feminine voice echoes as it calls out to me. "Shelby." The voice becomes more masculine. "Shelby!" The voice is clear now. It's a voice I could listen to forever. I take in a sharp breath as I wake up. My eyes snap open to see Dean hovering above me "Hey, hey, it's just a dream." I continue to breathe heavily as I sit up, Dean pulls back so I can do so. He reaches towards my face and wipes his thumb across my cheek. I reach up and wipe away the rest of the sweat and tears from my face. Dean looks concerned.
"I'm fine." I wave him off as my breathing returns to normal. "I'm fine."
"You sure?" He asks.
"Yeah. I'm good. Like you said, it was just a dream." Am I trying to convince him or myself? What was that place? Hell? Was it just something from my imagination? No, I could never come up with something so cruel and terrifying. I would never wish it on my worst enemy. "So, what'd you find out?" I ask him.
"Long story short, he was buried in a pine box." He tells me. His expression relaxes, but I can still see a hint of concern in the curve of his brow.
"Alright!" I shout with a forced smile. "Let's go get this over with." Dean leans forward and I meet him half way. The kiss is soft and quick, and then he pulls back and gets in the driver's seat.
I ride with Sarah in the back. I have no clue where we're going. Clearly the man was buried in an obscure place. They must not 'ave wanted him to be laid to rest with the rest of the family. The Impala almost rocked me to sleep again until Dean hit the breaks. It jolted me awake, but I'm grateful. My dreams have not been the most enjoyable, and my relaxation becomes nothing but fear and tension. We all get out and the boys start digging. Sarah holds the flashlight for them, and I take over if one of them gets tired.
"You guys seem uncomfortably comfortable with this." I hear Sarah say next to me. I look to her and send her a smile.
"After a while you just get used to it." I tell her. "I mean, this isn't our first time digging up a dead-man." I chuckle a bit, but stop once she narrows her eyes. Sam hops out of the hole and stands on Sarah's other side.
"So," He starts. "Still think I'm a catch?" He asks her. She remains silent as I watch Dean as he throws out the last few shovel fulls of dirt. He then hits the shovel on the ground he is standing on. It's a hollow wooden sound. That certainly sounds like a cheaply made pine box.
"Think I got somethin'." He says. Sarah points the flashlight directly down into the hole where Dean is digging. He breaks the wooden cover with the shovel, and opens it. The skeleton of the man is there so we start the final part of the process. I grab the salt and start pouring it over the skeleton in the hole. Sam pours the gasoline over the salt. Once that's all done, we stand over the hole. "You've been a real pain in the ass Isaiah." Dean lights a match. "Good riddance." He throws the match into the grave and we all just stand there and watch as the corpse burns. All that's left is the follow through. We need to double check that what we did actually worked.
On the way back into town the rumble of the Impala's engine eases me to sleep as I lean against the window. I dream of nothing but blackness. I try to walk around, but I can't even see my hand in front of my face. I call out for everyone. Dean, Sam, John, even Bobby. Suddenly, I hear a soft ballad sounding song. I see a light. It's far away, but seems to be coming towards me quickly. It consumes me and I jolt awake. I look around at the empty seat next to me. The front passenger seat is also empty. The music isn't playing anymore.
"They went inside." Dean's voice causes me to look in the rearview mirror. He's looking at me with a smirk on his face.
"What?" I sort of snap at him.
"Nothing." His smirk doesn't leave his face. "I just think you're adorable when you're tired."
"Fuck off." I scoff.
"That's my girl." He says as he looks back at the house. I follow his gaze to the wide-open front door. A soft wind blows, but I feel like something isn't right. We watch as the door slams. There is no way Sam or Sarah did that. I'm out of the car before Dean. I run up the stairs, under the police tape, and try to open the door. Dean comes up behind me, so I step away to let him try to force it open with his shoulder. It doesn't work
"Dean!" We just barely hear from the other side. "Hey! Is that you?"
"Sammy, you alright?" Dean asks though the door. There is no answer until Dean's phone rings. He picks up, and I can only hear one end of the conversation. "Tell me you slammed the front door." Dean voices right away.
"We know he didn't, Dean." I say from behind him as Sam answers him.
"Girl? What girl?" Dean asks as he pulls out his lock pick. There is a slight pause. "Wasn't the dad looking down at her? Maybe he was trying to warn us." I watch as he struggles to pick the lock.
"I don't think that's gonna work, babe." I tell him. I know he's pretty quick with the lock pick, so if it's taking him this long to get it, he's not gonna get it. He continues to try to pick the lock, so I just take the phone from him.
"He's trying to pick the lock, but it won't budge." I tell Sam.
"Well, knock it down." He snaps at me.
"Okay smarty pants, we'll just grab the battering ram." I snap back at him.
"Shelby, the damn thing is coming!" He yells.
"You're just gonna have to hold it off until we figure something out." I tell him. The phone is grabbed from me and Dean is now talking to his brother.
"Get some salt or iron." There is a long pause as Dean tries to force the door again. He turns to me. "Go look for another way in." He tells me. I walk the wrap around porch to look for windows or other doors that are open or will open. I try the first window, but it has a metal cage around it. The next window is the same. "Sammy, you okay?" I hear Dean say as he comes around the corner. I look at him and shake my head to tell him that nothing is working. "How we gonna waste 'er?" He asks Sam. We walk back to the front door. I think about how we could do this, but everyone else in the family was cremated. "Then how's she still around?" In the next pause we leave the porch to continue trying to find an entrance. "The mausoleum." I look to Dean as he hangs up. "We gotta go, baby girl."
"Why, what's at the mausoleum besides the ashes?" I ask as I follow him to the car.
"The doll could have some of the girl's hair." He answers as I get in the passenger seat. That's all the information I need. We don't say anything as Dean speeds off down the road. He crashes through the entrance gate of the cemetery and right up to the door. We get out and Dean quickly enters the stone structure we were in earlier. I see him bang on the glass, but it doesn't budge. He takes out his gun and tries to smash it with the grip of said gun. I roll my eyes as I build up the courage to enter the small room.
"What are you, Dean? A cave man?" I ask as I take the gun from his hand. I point the muzzle of the gun at the glass and pull the trigger. The glass breaks, and Dean grabs the doll. He takes out his lighter, but it's not lighting. "Come on!" I yell at him. "Light it already!"
"What do ya think I'm trying to do!?" He yells back. Finally the lighter does its job and Dean puts the flame against the hair of the doll. He throws it to the ground, but I can't breathe a sigh of relief just yet. I take out my phone and call Sam.
"Sammy?" I breathe out with worry as I hear the other end answer. There's a long pause, and I feel my heart beat faster. Were we too late?
"We're not bad." I hear him answer. I let out that breath I had been holding in. Dean comes up behind me as Sam and I hang up.
"Alright, let's go get them." I say. He leads me out of the mausoleum by my shoulders.
"Yes, ma'am." He says. I get in the passenger seat and Dean drives back to the house. As we get there, Sam and Sarah are coming out. I rush out and tackle Sam in a hug. I hear him lightly chuckle.
"Don't you ever do that again, Sammy." I try to scold him.
"Yeah, yeah, no promises." He answers. I let him go and I give Sarah a hug as well.
We go back to the hotel, and Sarah leaves us for the night. Dean and I spoon in one bed and Sam sleeps in the other. I hear Dean snore in my ear all night. But even if he wasn't snoring I wouldn't be able to get to sleep. The last few dreams keep me awake. I watch the window, and as the curtains light up with the sunrise I feel movement in the man behind me. His snoring stops, the arm he has around me pulls me tighter to him, and his nose is nuzzling the back of my head.
"G'morning, babe." He says in a sleepy voice. It makes me smile.
"Morning." I reply.
"Did you get any sleep?" He asks into my hair.
"Not really."
"Does it have anything to do with the dream you had yesterday?" He asks. I become tense. He pulls me even tighter to him. "You wanna talk about it?" I shake my head no. "Whenever you feel like opening up about it, I'll be ready to listen." I scoff at his words. It sounds like something he would say if he were drunk.
"Sure thing." I tell him.
Eventually all of us are up and ready. We grab something quick to eat, go look through the county records, and head over to the auction house. Sam runs in ahead of us. I wonder what will happen with him and Sarah. I get the vide that they like each other, but I think she's good where she is. Our life is not for everybody.
"Maybe you should try and get some sleep." Dean says to me. "There's nothing too important happening today."
"I'm good." He just looks at me. "Seriously, I'm fine." He continues to just look at me without saying a word. "Fine." I say like a teenager.
"That's my girl." He says as he gets out of the Impala. I lay down in the backseat. I close my eyes and try to drift off into dreamland. Hopefully it's a good one this time.