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Clues ahoy!

Chapter name borrowed from AC/DC! (Oh, I love that band, I do!)

Lyrics are from Boyz II Men's 'It's So Hard To Say Goodbye To Yesterday.'

I thought we'd get to see forever

But forever's gone away

It's so hard to say goodbye to yesterday

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE- THE RAZOR'S EDGE

"I don't understand, Dean, we burned the damn thing," Sam pinched the bridge of his nose, frustrated.

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

I ignored him as his eyes swept over Castiel and I.

I was falling apart at the seams.

I was here, again, after I'd promised myself I'd never come back.

I was staring my past in the face, and I couldn't deal.

I was burning in my grief.

In my guilt.

This was reminding me of each and every thing I'd lost.

But maybe that wasn't the correct word.

More like everything I'd ruined.

"Find out everything you can about the family," Castiel was saying, but his eyes were on me.

Sam kept shooting me worried looks.

He'd been doing it ever since his date with Sarah.

The guilt roiled up inside of me as I thought of her.

I would've been fine if I was the only one facing this.

But I'd dragged two more people down to suffer with me.

I sighed as Sam glanced at me again.

This had to stop.

"Sam," Had I been in a better frame of mind, I would probably have laughed as Sam jumped guiltily.

I forced out the words. "What did Sarah tell you, Sam?"

He blinked at me, shocked.

Dean had stopped the car, boring a hole into me with his gaze.

Castiel seemed almost expectant.

I waited.

Sam was slow in answering. "She just said her brother died a year ago."

I closed my eyes as white-hot pain flashed through me, trying to stem the way my mind was screaming my fault, my fault, my fault.

I opened them to see Castiel a good deal closer than he had been before.

He'd read my mind.

Sam seemed even more anxious than before as he searched my face.

"She said…." Sam's voice dropped. "You knew him."

Knew him.

Of course I knew him.

Dean, for once, didn't scold me as my fingers cut into the upholstery of the Impala.

"Anything else?"

I didn't recognize my own voice.

Castiel's presence was strangely calming as I fought for control.

"No."

I breathed out in relief.

"Sarah said if you hadn't told us it wasn't her place to say."

I raised my head to three intense gazes.

I looked away.

"Trust me. You don't want to know."

~Supernatural~

"You said the Isaiah Merchant family, right?" The proprietor looked at us questioningly.

"Yeah, that's right," Sam nodded.

Dean approached, smiling and flicking through an old book with pictures of guns.

The proprietor put down a huge book of newspaper clippings on the table.

"I dug up every scrap of local history I could find. So are you guys crime buffs?"

"Something like that," I answered.

"Why do you ask?" Dean added.

"Well…." He held up a newspaper article.

The proprietor pointed at a side article.

It read 'Father Slaughters Family, Kills Himself'.

"Yes. Yeah," Dean reached for the article. "That sounds about right."

"The whole family was killed?" Sam raised an eyebrow.

"It's seems this Isaiah, he slits his kid's throat, then his wife, then himself," The man answered.

"Now he was a barber by trade. Used a straight razor."

"Why'd he do it?" I looked up at him.

"Isaiah had a harsh and stern temperament," he said. "Controlled his family with an iron fist. There were whispers that his wife was gonna take the kids and leave, which of course, you know in that day and age…" he waved a hand casually.

"So instead," the proprietor grinned. "Old man Isaiah, well he gave them all a shave."

The man drew a hand across his throat, laughing. Dean joined in, stopping only when Sam gave him a dirty look.

"Does it say what happened to the bodies?" Dean waited expectantly.

"It says they were all cremated."

"Anything else?"

"Yeah," the proprietor nodded. "Actually, I found a picture of the family. Right here."

He showed us the same painting.

"Hey, can we get a copy of this please?"

"Sure."

~Supernatural~

We sat at the table.

"I'm telling you man, I'm sure of it." Sam's voice rose in pitch. "The painting at the auction house, Dad is looking down. Painting here, Dad's looking out. It's changed."

Dean crossed his arms. "All right, so you think that Daddy dearest is trapped in the painting and is handing out Columbian neckties like with his family?"

I winced at the imagery.

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

"Um," I spoke up nervously. "If Isaiah's position changed then maybe other things in the painting did too. It could give us a clue."

"What, like a Da Vinci Code deal?"

Dean gave Sam a totally blank look. "I don't…know. I'm still waiting for the movie on that one. Anyway, we gotta get back in and see the painting."

He rose, moving across to the bed, throwing himself on his back and crossed his arms.

"Which is a good thing 'cause you can get some more time to crush on your girlfriend."

I blinked, surprised.

"Dude. Enough already," Sam's reply was curt.

"What?" Dean demanded.

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

"Well, you like her, don't you?" Dean cocked an eyebrow.

Sam raised his arms to the ceiling.

"Alright," Dean forged ahead. "You like her, she likes you, you're consenting adults…." He trailed off suggestively.

Sam was frustrated. "What's the point, Dean? We'll just leave, we always leave."

"I'm not talking about marriage, Sam," Dean added quietly.

"I don't get it," Sam answered agitatedly. "Why do you care if I hook up?"

By contrast, Dean was calm. "'Cause maybe you wouldn't be so cranky all the time."

Sam stared at him, then huffed out a breath and looked away.

Dean sat up on his bed. "You know, seriously, Sam, this isn't just about hooking up, okay? I mean, I think this Sarah girl could be good for you."

Sam sighed, rubbing his head.

We watched closely.

Dean's tone was unusually soft. "And…I don't mean any disrespect, but I'm sure this is about Jessica, right?"

I looked harder at Sam.

"Now, I don't know what it's like to lose somebody like that….. but I would think she would want you to be happy."

Happy.

He would've wanted me to be happy as well.

But how could I be?

Without him, how could I have any peace?

The tears in my own eyes matched Sam's.

Sam was listening, now.

"Yeah, I know she would," Sam answered slowly.

He gave a half smile, then sighed heavily.

"Yeah, you're right. Part of this is about Jessica. But not the main part."

"What's it about?" Dean propped himself up.

Sam refused to answer.

"Yeah, all right," Dean lay back down. "We still gotta see the painting, which means you still gotta call Sarah, so….."

Sam picked up his phone, clearing his throat.

Dean shook his head and closed his eyes, settling in.

"Hey, Sarah," Sam's tone was stiff and awkward. "It's Sam. Good. Good, yeah. What about you?"

Dean opened an eye slightly, watching his brother.

I smiled fondly at them.

Sam repeated himself nervously. "Yeah good, really good."

"Smooth," Dean whispered across the room.

I jerked in surprise as Sam held out the phone to me.

"She wants to talk to you," he mouthed.

I took the phone warily.

What was left to say?

"Hey, Sarah."

I paused.

"Yes, I know. I should have. I'm sorry."

For everything.

"I miss you too."

She would never know how much.

"Yeah, I will. Promise."

"What?" I vaulted off the chair.

At my tone, Dean and Sam snapped to attention.

I stood up.

"Who'd you sell it to?

The phone clattered to the floor as I heard her answer.

Sam was at my side in an instant, placing a hand on my shoulder.

"Odette?"

My face was deathly pale.

"Odette."

Dean crossed the room to me, shaking me roughly.

"Kid. Snap out of it. What's going on?"

I summoned up the courage to speak.

"The painting's been sold. It's at…." I gulped.

"Where is it, Odette?"

Sam's tone was gentle.

"It's at my house."

~Supernatural~

The Impala roared up and we jumped out.

Sarah appeared from the car waiting in the driveway.

This could not be happening.

Whatever had taken place, he was still my family.

Sarah took my arm.

"Sam, what's happening?"

We ran past her.

Dean's eyes grew to the size of saucers as he saw the size of my home.

I joined Dean and ran up to the front porch.

Dean started banging on the door.

I pushed his hand aside.

"I know the combination," I said quietly.

I had the door unlocked in a minute.

22/04/65.

The day my mother was born.

Sarah caught up to us.

"You said Matthew," she squeezed my shoulder comfortingly. "Was in trouble."

"You shouldn't have come," Sam said.

We dashed in.

I knew Sarah was here purely for my sake.

I hung on to her.

"Matt?" She called.

"Matthew!" Dean yelled.

There was no response.

We entered the lounge, and I trembled.

Sam glanced at me worriedly.

I recognized the woman sitting half turned away from us.

The painting had changed.

Isaiah now looked at his daughter.

"Aunt Evie?" I moved forward cautiously.

I reached out to touch her shoulder.

"Odette, don't!" Sam's voice was urgent.

But it was too late.

Evelyn's head tipped back, exposing her slashed throat.

I was horrified, and I hated myself for the smothered feeling of relief that coursed through me.

At least it wasn't him.

He was safe.

I had to be shepherded out of the room by Dean.

~Supernatural~

Dean and Sam sat with the laptop while I paced.

There was a knock on the door.

I opened it, and Sarah stormed past me.

"Hey," Sam greeted her. "You all right?"

She was fuming.

"No, actually, I just lied to the cops and told them I found Evelyn like that alone."

Dean smirked as Sam and I breathed out in relief.

"Thank you," Sam smiled at her.

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

We looked at Dean, who raised his eyebrows.

"What." Sam stated quietly.

"What?" Sarah repeated.

"It's not 'who', Sarah," I added. "It's 'what' is killing these people."

She looked at us as if we were insane.

Sam sighed wearily. "Sarah, you saw that painting move."

She was agitated. "No….no. I was… I was seeing things. It's impossible."

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

"I know this sounds crazy, Sarah," I reached for her hand. "But we think the painting is haunted."

Sarah sniggered, but her eyes were wet.

"You're joking."

She looked at us one by one.

We just stared at her.

"You're not joking." She laughed shakily. "God, the guys I choose to go out with."

"Sarah, think about it," Sam's voice was persuasive. "Evelyn was in the house with the painting, the Telesca's bought it. There have been others before that. Wherever this thing goes, people die. We're just trying to stop it. That's the truth."

She took a deep breath.

"Then I guess you'd better show me. I'm coming with you."

"What? No." My voice was flat. "Go home, Sarah. You'll get hurt."

She shook her head. "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. I'm scared as hell, but I'm not going to run and hide, either.

She strode to the door.

Sarah turned back. "So are we going or what?"

She walked out, dragging me with her.

Over my shoulder, I heard Dean say: "Sam? Marry that girl."

~Supernatural~

Isaiah Merchant's body wasn't in the mausoleum.

Dean was inside searching county death certificates trying to find out what happened to his body.

We sat on a small wall, waiting.

Dean soon appeared, opening his mouth to speak, when Sarah pulled me aside.

"Hey! Where are you guys going?" Dean demanded.

"Family business," Sarah called over her shoulder, pushing me along.

We stared at each other.

"So." She spoke softly. "How are you holding up?"

I smiled bitterly.

"I should be asking you that question."

"That's not an answer, Odette." Sarah looked at me searchingly.

The hole in my chest throbbed viciously.

What could I say?

I'd thought he would always be there, the one solid fixture in my life.

He'd promised me forever.

But forever had been ripped away.

I would never be able to let him go.

Every part of me ached to tell Sarah.

But I couldn't.

Because I was weak.

I raised my eyes to hers, then.

I could give her this much.

"You want the truth, Sarah?"

She waited.

"I'm not holding up anything. There's nothing left. I'm a mess."

I clutched my side as the pain grew.

"It's killing me, and it's never going to get any better. He's gone, Sarah, and he's taken me with him."

The tears spilled over onto Sarah's cheek.

"What did you expect?" I stared at her hollowly.

"Hell, you were the one who carted me to the emergency room in the first place. You know exactly how I was dealing."

She sniffed, eyes lifeless.

I looked her in the eyes.

"I asked you then whether I had anything to live for, Sarah. You couldn't give me an answer."

Sarah started sobbing, and I put my arm around her as my own tears fell.

"Can you give me one now?"

~Supernatural~

I balked as I realized exactly which graveyard I was standing in front of.

"Come on, lets get to work," Dean walked inside and Sam followed.

They paused, as I did not move.

"Kid?" Dean was irritated, I could tell.

"You go on ahead," my voice was barely more than a whisper. "I'll stay here."

Dean huffed. "You're not turning squeamish on us now, are you?"

"No, you don't understand." I gripped the fence tightly. "I can't go inside.

A sharp lance of pain spiked through me.

"There are…." The words stuck in my suddenly dry throat.

"There are people I know here."

They sucked in a shocked breath.

I jumped as Castiel reappeared.

"Go. I'll stay with her."

Sam and Dean looked at me once, and walked away.

I turned to Castiel, eyes shamed and guilty.

"You're going to have to let go eventually, Odette."

"I don't think I can, Castiel."

We stood in silence for a few minutes.

I was desperate.

"Where are they, now, Castiel?"

"In heaven."

I searched his face. "You're not lying to me, are you? Promise me you're telling the truth."

He pinned me with his gaze.

"I promise."

"Thank you, Castiel."

He vanished as Sam and Dean returned.

Dean coughed awkwardly. "Sorry, kid."

"Don't be," I smiled tremulously.

Sam put an arm around my shoulder, and I wrapped mine around his waist.

We walked back to the car.

~Supernatural~

We stopped in front of the auction house.

"I thought the painting was harmless now?" Sarah asked.

"Better to be safe than sorry," Sam replied.

Sarah got out of the car.

"I'm coming with you."

"You sure?"

Dean called Sam back.

"Hey! Hey, hey. The kid and I will stay here, you go make your move."

My lips curved upward.

Sam sniggered and got out of the Impala.

As Sarah and Sam moved up the stairs, Dean turned on the radio.

I couldn't control my laugh as I recognized the ballad playing.

Sam glared at Dean, who sighed and turned it off.

Suddenly, the door slammed shut on Sam and Sarah.

~Supernatural~

We ran up the stairs, shoving at the door.

"Dean!" I heard Sam yell. "That you?"

"Sammy, you alright?"

Dean's cell phone rang.

"Tell me you slammed the front door."

"No, it wasn't me. I think it was the little girl."

"Girl?" Dean's eyebrows shot up. "What girl?"

"I think she's out of the painting," Sam answered. "I think it's been her all along."

"Wasn't the dad looking down on her? Maybe he was trying to warn us."

"Hey, let's recap later, all right? Get us out of here." Sam's tone was edgy.

"Well, I'm trying to pick the lock, the door won't budge." Dean's voice held a bite to it,

"Well, knock it down!"

"Okay, genius, let me just grab my battering ram."

"Dean, the damn thing is coming!" Sam shouted.

Worry for Sam and Sarah swamped me.

"Well, you're just gonna have to hold it off until I figure something out. Get some salt or iron."

Dean grunted, looking for an entrance.

There were none.

Sam suddenly spoke up.

"I know to waste her, Dean."

"How?"

"Dean, the doll at the grave. Sarah thinks it was made with the kid's hair."

"Human remains," Dean huffed.

The mausoleum.

~Supernatural~

We raced inside the graveyard, and I ignored the insistent voice that told me to run away.

We entered the mausoleum, and Dean hit the glass container with the doll in it with the butt of his gun.

It did not break.

He turned to run back to the car, gun in hand, but stopped.

Dean shot the glass, lifting an arm to protect his face.

It splintered everywhere.

He grabbed the doll, reaching for his lighter.

It refused to light.

Dean grimaced.

"Come on, come on!"

His lighter finally caught, and he held it under the doll's hair.

It began to smoke, then burn.

We stared at the burnt doll on the floor of the mausoleum.

Dean pulled out his phone.

"Sam, you good?"

Sam's voice was breathless.

"Not bad."

~Supernatural~

We stood in front of Sarah.

"So, I guess this means you're leaving," Sarah looked at us.

"Yeah."

I would miss her.

She surprised me; pulling out the photo album I'd spent so much time making.

"Here, I got this for you. I figured you'd want it."

I stroked the pretty cover for a second, tears pooling in my eyes.

Sarah squeaked in surprise as I hugged her tightly.

"Thank you."

She shrugged casually.

"Don't thank me, this is yours."

As I reached for it, she grabbed my hand, staring at the thin band on my wrist.

The beads were broken and discolored, but to me, it was still the most beautiful thing I'd ever worn.

"All this time?" Sarah's lips trembled.

"Always."

She paused, fighting for composure.

Sarah reached into her pocket, bringing out a glittering bracelet.

I looked at her in confusion.

She smiled sadly.

"This is for you. He meant to give it to you before he….."

Her breath hitched, and my own tears prevented me from seeing clearly.

I held on to her tightly, slipping it on.

"Bye, Sarah," I stumbled my way to the Impala.

Something like a smile crossed my face as Sam kissed her goodbye, and Dean let out a proud: "That's my boy."

I looked around me, at the place I loved.

The ache to stay here would never go away, but in the course of a single year, something had changed.

Home meant something different to me now.

Home was a dusty black car, two bickering brothers and an angel who didn't know the meaning of personal space.

So when Dean called out to me, I already knew my answer.

"Kid? You coming?"

For the first time in months, I grinned.

"Yeah, I'm coming."

~Supernatural~

My dreams, however, still remained the same.

I didn't think they would ever go way.

We watched the sunset together, the sky a soft pinkish-gold, clouds cottony white and dotted over the orange-streaked sky.

I put my head on my knees, inching closer to him.

"Hey."

I tugged on his arm.

He looked at me questioningly.

"Why do people love each other when they know they're gonna get hurt, huh?"

He looked at me seriously, wrapping an arm around my shoulders.

I clung closer to him.

His face was pensive as he answered me.

"Well, I don't know, Odette," he smiled lopsidedly, the smile I loved to see him wear.

"I guess because it's great while it lasts."

I woke up with a jerk, head buried in Sam's chest.

I was sleeping in his lap again.

The pain shot through me aggressively, and I stiffened, wishing I could forget this.

"I guess because it's great while it lasts, Odette."

Against Sam's shirt, where he wouldn't see, the tears began to fall.

Jared.

And we have a name, folks!