This is my first story, so please be nice. Tell me what you think! I do not own any of the characters (except for Alex) and I do not own any of the storylines.
Chapter 22
Alex, Dean, and Sam were at a bar. Dean was at the bar getting drinks and talking to some girl. She was writing her number on his hand. A mediocre band played on stage, people dancing in front of the stage. Dean entered the number in his phone and smiled at the girl.
"Alright, you're in there."
The girl smiled flirtatiously at Dean. Sam sat at a table in the middle of the bar, his head resting in his hand. He grabbed the local paper and began looking through it for suspicious deaths.
"What 'cha lookin' at?" asked Alex.
She came up behind Sam and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. She rested her chin on his right shoulder and looked down at the paper.
"I think I found a gig," said Sam.
He looked up at Dean, who was still sitting at the bar talking to the girl. Sam waved Dean over, but Dean ignored him. Sam sighed and raised his eyebrows as he continued waving. Dean finally left the girl and walked over to his siblings.
"I think I got somethin'," said Sam.
"Yeah, me too," said Dean.
Alex rolled her eyes and kissed Sam's cheek. She removed her arms from his shoulders and sat down across from him.
"What do you have?" she asked.
"Mark and Sally Telesca were both found dead in their home just a few days ago. No prints, no murder weapons, all doors and windows were locked from the inside."
"Could just be murder," said Dean, taking a swig from his beer bottle.
"No, Dad says different."
"What do you mean?" asked Alex.
Sam opened their dad's journal and flipped it to a tabbed page. He shoved it in front of Dean.
"Look. Dad noted three murders in the same upstate area of New York."
Sam pointed to a paragraph in the journal.
"First one, 1912. Second, 1945, and the third in 1970. Now, so much time passed between the murders that no one checked the pattern except for Dad."
"Alright, I'm with you. It's worth checkin' out," said Dean.
He grabbed his beer and headed back to the bar, Alex sighing in his wake.
"So, we checked the house. It's clean," said Sam, a few days later.
"Maybe it's an object in the house," said Dean.
"No, there's nothing in it. No furniture, nothing," said Alex.
"Where's all their stuff?" asked Dean.
Alex shrugged.
Dean walked into the house that was holding the art auction. Alex sighed as she saw everyone else in the house wearing nice clothes. They stood out in their jeans and t-shirts.
"Can I help you?" asked an older man in a tuxedo.
Sam and Alex smiled warmly at him. Dean grabbed some food off of the table beside him and stuffed the food in his mouth before facing the waiter.
"I'd like some champagne, please," said Dean, his mouth full.
Alex turned to face Dean.
"He's not a waiter," she gritted out through her teeth.
Dean simply shrugged and Alex turned back to the man.
"I'm Alex Connors. These are my brothers, Sam and Dean. We're art dealers with Connors Limited."
"You're art dealers?" asked the man, looking at their jeans and tees with raised eyebrows.
"That's right," said Sam.
"I'm Daniel Blake. This is my auction house. Now, this is a private showing and I don't remember seeing you on the guest list."
Alex smiled.
"We're there, Chuckles. Take another look," said Dean.
He turned around, grabbed a flute of champagne off of a passing tray, and turned back around to face Daniel Blake. Sam smiled at Daniel before shoving Dean and Alex towards more paintings. They looked at the pictures, looking at one of a family.
"Fine example of art, wouldn't you say?" asked a woman who was walking down the stairs.
They all turned to look at her, Dean slapping Sam's shoulder to push him forward to meet her. The beautiful woman stepped in front of Sam and he gently reached for her hand.
"I'm Sarah Blake."
She shook Sam's hand warmly.
"Sam. These are my siblings, Alex and Dean."
Alex smiled and Dean shoved more food into his mouth.
"So, can I help you with something?" asked Sarah.
"Yes, actually. Um…"
Sam turned to the painting of the family.
"What can you tell us about the Telesca estate?"
"The whole thing's pretty grisly, if you ask me. But Dad's right about one thing. It's sensational."
She smiled over at Sam, who smiled back warmly.
"Is it possible to tell me about the provenances?"
"I'm afraid there isn't any chance of that," said Daniel Blake, coming to stand by Sarah.
"And why not?" asked Alex.
"Because you're not on the guest list and I think that it's time to leave."
"Well, we don't have to be told twice," said Dean.
"Apparently, you do."
"Alright, we'll go," said Sam.
He smiled warmly at Sarah one last time and followed his siblings out the door.
Dean parked the car outside of their motel room door later that same day. He unlocked the door and let Alex enter first. She laughed when she stepped inside. The room was decked out in a seventies theme. A disco ball was hanging from the ceiling and the wallpaper was a bright blue.
"So, what was the provenance?" asked Dean, ignoring the heinous design layout and theme of their motel room.
"It's a certificate of origin, like a biography. We can use 'em to track down the history of the pieces to see if anything's got a freaky past," said Sam.
He threw down his duffel bag on the same bed that Alex had her bag on.
"Sarah was pretty," said Alex, looking over at Sam's face.
"She was totally checking you out," said Dean, raising his eyebrows.
"I agree. Call her," said Alex.
She handed Sam her cell phone and he sighed, dialing Sarah's number.
Sam looked at Sarah across the table the next night, the candlelight illuminating her face. She smiled warmly over at him.
"Nice place," said Sam, looking up at the chandeliers on the ceiling.
"Yes," said Sarah as the waiter came and set their glasses of water in front of them before moving on to check on another table.
"I'm really glad you called. Surprised, but glad. Although, you seemed to have a hard time getting out the words 'Would you like to have dinner?'," said Sarah.
Sam laughed.
"Yeah, I haven't really been on a date in a while."
"Welcome to the club," said Sarah, placing her hand on top of Sam's so that he would stop messing with his napkin.
Sam looked over at her, surprised.
"You're kidding me."
Sarah shook her head and the waiter returned to their table with the wine menu. Sam began flipping through it, getting a curious glance from the waiter.
"Um, I don't know about Romeo here, but I'll have a beer," said Sarah.
The waiter wrote down her order and looked over at Sam.
"Make that two."
The waiter nodded and took the wine menu back, walking away.
"So, you studied art while in college, huh?" asked Sam.
"It's true. I was an artist. A terrible, terrible artist. That's why I'm in the auction business. And you were pre-law?" asked Sarah, as the waiter returned and set their beers down directly in front of them.
Sam nodded.
"Yeah."
"But you didn't go to law school. How come?"
"It's a really long story for another time," said Sam, sipping his beer slowly.
Sarah nodded, smiling sadly.
"So, what did you mean when you said you hadn't been on a date in a while?" asked Sam, continuing their conversation after a slight awkward silence.
"It was my mom. She died about a year ago, totally unexpected. It really threw me. I went into this shell, but lately I've been thinking. It's not what she would've wanted for me, you know? Why haven't you been out and about?" asked Sarah.
Sam said nothing, but he began picking at the label on his beer bottle.
"Another long story for another long time?" asked Sarah.
Sam nodded sadly while Sarah smiled nervously.
Sam sat on their motel room bed beside Alex, who was lying on the bed with a pillow tucked under her chin. Dean sat on their other bed, sharpening his knife.
"So, she just handed the provenances over to you?" asked Dean.
"Yes. We went over to her place and she gave me a copy," said Sam.
"And?" pressed Dean, raising his eyebrows.
"And nothing."
Sam looked down at the provenances that he held in his hands, ignoring Dean's sigh of frustration. After a few minutes, he set the papers down on the bed.
"Hey, I think I got something."
Dean set his knife down onto his bed and walked over to Alex and Sam. Sam handed him the papers.
"Compare the names of the owners to Dad's journal."
Dean walked over to the table where their dad's journal sat and opened it, sitting down in a chair and glancing from the papers to the journal and then back again.
"Whoever owned the painting has been murdered," said Dean.
"Haunted or cursed?" asked Sam.
"Either way, it's toast," said Dean, getting up and grabbing his black leather jacket.
"I don't want to get up," whined Alex, still lying down on the bed.
Sam laughed.
"Come on, Alex. Don't make me carry you," warned Dean.
Alex sighed and sat up, glaring at Dean's back as he walked out the door first.
Dean climbed up and over the tall iron fence of the Blake estate and jumped over it gracefully and effortlessly. Dean watched as Sam hoisted Alex up onto his shoulders. She grabbed the top of the fence and climbed over it. She jumped when she was at the top and Dean caught her in his arms. Sam jumped over last and landed on his feet a few seconds after Alex. They ran to the auction house doors and ran inside, looking for the painting of the family. They headed up the stairs and saw it in the corner. Dean took out his knife and cut the picture out of the frame, sticking it under his arm and running outside with his siblings to burn it. Once they were all outside, Dean laid the painting down onto the cold ground. Alex handed him the matches from her pocket and Dean took one out, striking it and throwing it down onto the painting quickly. Sam shone his flashlight down onto the painting and they all watched it burn. However, as it burned, it reappeared in the frame inside the auction house, completely untouched.
Sam and Alex were packing their clothes in their duffel bags while Dean was in the bathroom, looking for something the next morning.
"We have a problem. I can't find my wallet," said Dean.
He stormed out of the bathroom and began looking over by his bed.
"How's that our problem?" asked Alex.
"Because I think that I lost it at the house last night."
Sam threw down the shirt he had been holding and he turned to face Dean.
"You're kidding."
"Nope. We've got to go and get it before somebody else finds it."
Dean shoved on his jacket and walked outside. Alex threw down the shirt that she had been folding down onto the bed, grabbing her jacket and cursing Dean under her breath as she followed Sam out the door.
The Winchesters walked into the auction house quickly, looking under and on top of everything on display.
"How do you lose your wallet, Dean?" asked Alex angrily.
She looked behind a painting. Dean simply shrugged his shoulders. Alex picked up a green vase and looked inside it while Sam picked up a small sculpture to look under it when Sarah saw them all.
"Hey!"
Alex and Sam quickly set down their items.
"Sarah. Hey," said Sam.
"What are you doing here?" she asked.
"Well, we're actually leaving town. You know, we came to say goodbye," said Sam, scratching the back of his neck uncomfortably.
Alex rolled her eyes and stepped in.
"Sam, what are you talking about? We're stickin' around for at least another day or so."
Sam looked at Alex, very confused, and Sarah smiled warmly.
"Oh, Sam. Let me give you that twenty bucks I owe you," said Dean, taking his wallet out from his jeans pocket and digging through it for a twenty dollar bill.
Alex grinned and Sam hid a smile as Dean handed him twenty bucks. Sam took it from Dean's hand and stuck it in his pocket.
"We'll leave you two alone to do some… stuff. Come on, Dean."
Alex looped her arm through Dean's and led him away from Sam and Sarah.
"I had a good time last night," said Sarah, once Dean and Alex were gone.
"Yeah, yeah. I did, too."
"Maybe we should do it again sometime."
"You know, I'd love to. I really would, but my siblings were just screwin' around. We really are takin' off today."
"Oh. Well, that's too bad."
Sam looked up at Sarah then and he happened to glance behind her. He saw a man holding the painting that Sam thought Dean had burned last night.
"Oh, my God!" shouted Sam suddenly.
Sarah turned and looked at the painting as well.
"What?" she asked.
"That painting… looks so good," lied Sam quickly, trying to hide his alarm.
"If you can call that monstrosity good, then yeah, I guess."
"So, what do you know about that particular painting?"
"Not very much, just that it freaks me out. We sold it to the Telescas at a charity auction the night they were murdered."
"And you're just going to sell it again?"
"As much as my dad wants to, no. I won't let him. I think that it'd be in bad taste."
"Yeah. You know what? Don't sell it, ever. Make sure that you don't, alright?"
"Don't tell me that you're interested in that," said Sarah, looking over at the painting once more.
"No, no. God, no. You know what? I've got to go do something, but I will call you. I will see you later."
"Wait, you're not leaving tonight?" asked Sarah.
"No, I guess not. I'll see you."
Sam smiled at her before turning around and looking for his brother and sister.
Dean, Alex, and Sam walked out to the Impala. Alex climbed in the backseat and Dean and Sam climbed in at the same time, shutting their doors in unison.
"I don't understand. I mean, we burnt the damn thing," said Sam.
"Thank you, Captain Obvious. Alright, we just need to figure out another way to get rid of it," said Dean.
"We could figure out everything about that creepy ass picture and the creepy ass family in it," said Alex.
"Yeah. Let's start there," agreed Sam.
The librarian led Alex, Dean, and Sam to an empty table.
"I dug up every scrap of local history I could find," said the man.
He held an old newspaper article in his hands. He laid it out across the table and pointed to the blurb about the family in the painting.
"The whole family was killed?" asked Sam.
"The dad, Isaiah, slits his kids' throats, then his wife, and finally himself. He was a barber by trade. Used a straight razor," answered the librarian, shaking his head sadly.
"Why'd he do it?" asked Alex.
"Controlled his family with an iron fist. Wife, two sons, adopted daughter… There were whispers that the wife was gonna take the kids and leave."
"Does it say what happened to the bodies?" asked Dean.
"Cremated."
Alex sighed and Dean cursed under his breath.
"Anything else we should know?" asked Sam.
"Yes, there's a picture of the family," said the librarian, flipping through the old newspaper.
He opened another page to show Sam the picture of the family. Sam looked down at it.
"Can we get a copy of this, please?"
The librarian nodded and took the newspaper to make a copy.
Sam sat at the table in the motel room, looking over the picture of the family from the library. He had been poring over it for hours.
"I'm tellin' you guys. Big painting, Dad's looking down. Picture here, Dad's lookin' up. The painting has changed."
"So, you think the dad is stuck in the painting?" asked Dean.
"Yes. But how are we going to stop him?"
"We have to get back in and look at that God awful painting," said Alex.
She fell down onto her motel room bed and sighed as her head hit the pillows.
"Which is a good thing because then you can see your girlfriend," said Dean.
He winked at Sam and walked over to his own bed, sitting down on it.
"Dude. Enough already," said Sam, sighing angrily.
"What?"
"Ever since we got here, you've been tryin' to pimp me out to Sarah. Just back off, alright?"
"Well, you like her, don't you?"
Sam simply shrugged.
"What's the point? We'll just leave, we always leave."
"I'm not talkin' about marriage, Sam."
"Why do you care if I hook up?" asked Sam.
"Maybe you wouldn't be so cranky all the time," shot back Dean.
Sam raised his eyebrows and scoffed.
"This isn't just about hookin' up. I think Sarah could be good for you."
Sam said nothing and Dean sighed sadly.
"Look, I'm going to go shower. Just think about it."
Dean stood up and headed into the bathroom, shutting and locking the door behind him. Alex sighed and got up from her bed. She sat in the chair next to Sam at the table and scooted her chair next to his so that their knees touched. Sam looked down at the ground, ignoring her.
"Sammy, this is about Jessica, right?" whispered Alex, biting her lip nervously.
Sam looked up at her sadly.
"Look, I don't know what it's like to lose someone like that, but I would think that she would want you to be happy by now."
Sam said nothing and Alex gently nudged his knees with her own.
"Wouldn't she?"
Sam looked over at her, his eyes moist. Alex put her hand over his that rested on his knee. Sam smiled warmly over at his little sister.
"Yes, I know she would. You're right. Part of this is about Jess, but not the main part."
Alex's eyebrows pulled together.
"What's it about?"
Sam said nothing once more. Alex squeezed his hand and let go, standing up.
"Well, we've still got to go and see that painting, which means that you've got to call Sarah."
Alex walked over to her bed and tossed Sam his cellphone that rested on the nightstand. Sam caught it and dialed Sarah's number as Alex sat on the edge of her motel room bed.
"Sarah? Hey, it's Sam. So, listen. My siblings and I were thinking that we'd like to come back and look at that painting again."
Sam listened to Sarah for a second, then stood up quickly, looking alarmed.
"What? Who'd you sell it to? I need an address immediately."
Dean pulled the Impala up to the address that Sarah had given Sam over the phone. He threw it into park and jumped out with Alex and Sam. They ran up the old front porch steps to meet Sarah outside of the front door.
"Sam, what's happening?" she asked, alarmed.
"I told you, you shouldn't have come," said Sam.
Dean pounded his fist on the front door.
"Hello? Anybody home?" he yelled.
No one responded.
"Fuck," muttered Alex.
"You said that Evelyn might be in danger. What kind of danger?" asked Sarah.
Sam didn't answer. He looked in the windows for any sign of movement while Dean pounded on the front door once more and Alex walked around the front porch looking for another entrance. When no one answered a second time, Dean knelt down and began picking the lock. Alex stood with Sarah.
"What are you guys? Burglars?"
Alex smirked.
"Nope. But you really should wait in your car. It's for your own good."
Dean pushed the front door open then and stood up from his crouch. Sarah ignored Alex's warning and followed them into the house. They entered the living room and slowly approached the chair that Evelyn was sitting in, unmoving. The painting was directly above the fireplace next to the chair.
"Evelyn?" whispered Sarah.
She stepped ever closer to the chair and touched Evelyn's shoulder. Evelyn's head fell back, revealing a slit throat. Sarah screamed in complete terror and horror. Sam ran over to her, grabbed her gently, and led her outside while Alex and Dean looked around the room for any more clues.
The next day, Sam was pacing in their motel room, Dean was on the laptop, and Alex was lying on the bed. There was a knock on the door and Sam opened it, letting Sarah inside.
"So, I just lied to the cops and told them that I went to Evelyn's alone and found her like that," said Sarah.
"Thank you," said Sam.
"Don't thank me. Just tell me what the hell is going on. Who's killing these people?"
Sam looked over at Dean and Alex. They shrugged and Sam turned back to Sarah.
"What," answered Sam.
"What?" asked Sarah, looking very confused.
"Not who, what. It's what is killing those people."
Sarah looked over at Sam, confusion and frustration evident on her face.
"Sarah, you saw that painting move."
"No, no. I was seeing things. It's impossible."
"Yeah, well. Welcome to our world, honey," said Alex.
Sarah looked over at Alex, who smiled reassuringly and warmly.
"Sarah, I know this sounds crazy. But we think that painting is haunted," said Sam.
"You're joking," said Sarah, her eyebrows raised.
She looked over at Sam's face, which was completely serious.
"You're not joking. God, the guys I go out with."
Sarah threw up her hands with frustration.
"Sarah, think about it. Evelyn, the Telescas. They had the painting. And there have been others before that. Wherever this thing goes, people die. And we're just tryin' to stop it. That's the truth."
"Well, then, I guess you better show me. I'm coming with you."
"What? No. Sarah, you should just go home. This stuff can get dangerous and I don't want you to get hurt."
"Look, you guys are probably crazy, but if you're right about this… well, me and my dad sold that painting and got those people killed. I'm not saying I'm not scared because I am. Scared as all hell, but I'm not going to go run and hide either."
Sarah opened the motel room door and stepped outside. Sam looked back at Alex and Dean. Alex was grinning.
"Sam," said Dean.
Sam looked over at him and Dean pointed to the spot where Sarah had just stood.
"Marry that girl," finished Dean.
Sam was picking the front door lock at Evelyn's house about an hour later.
"Um, isn't this a crime scene?" asked Sarah, looking around to make sure no one was watching them.
Alex laughed.
"Sweetie, you already lied to the cops. What's another infraction?"
Alex followed Sarah into the house where Sam took the painting off of the wall. He laid it on the couch and looked down at it.
"Are you worried that it's going to kill us?" asked Sarah.
"No, it seems to do its thing at night. I think we're alright in the daylight," said Sam.
Dean was looking from the painting to the picture in his hand that they had gotten from the library.
"Hey, check it out," said Dean.
He held the picture out to Sam, who took it from his brother's open palm.
"The razor is closed in this one, but open in that one."
Sam looked down at the picture now in his hand.
"What are you looking for?" asked Sarah.
"The spirit's changing the aspects of the painting. Maybe it's doin' so for a reason," explained Alex, looking over Sam's shoulder.
"Hey, look at this," said Sam.
Dean walked over to him as Alex was already standing directly beside her twin brother.
"The painting within the painting."
"It looks like a crypt," said Alex.
Dean grabbed an empty candy dish from a side table and held it up to his eye. He looked through it to see the crypt's name more clearly.
"Merchant."
A crow flew off of a tree, cawing, as the Winchester siblings and Sarah walked through the cemetery.
"This is the third bone yard we've checked. I think this ghost is jerkin' us around," complained Dean.
Sarah stepped closer to Sam as a gust of wind blew through the cemetery.
"So, this is what you guys do for a living?" she asked.
"Not exactly. I mean, we don't get paid," replied Sam.
"Well, mazel tov," smiled Sarah.
Sam smiled back at her.
"Dean, over there," said Alex, pointing to the crypt and leading them toward it.
Dean opened the doors and cleared out the cobwebs in the doorway. There were boxes shoved into the walls that were full of children's toys.
"Notice anything strange here?" asked Dean.
"Um, where do I start?" asked Sarah.
Sam smirked sarcastically.
"That's not what I mean, although I do agree. Look at the urns."
"There are only four," observed Alex.
"Mom and the three kids. Daddy Dearest isn't here," said Dean.
"So, where is he?" asked Sarah.
Sam simply shrugged.
"That's what we're going to find out," said Dean.
"So… what exactly are your brother and sister doing in there?" asked Sarah.
She and Sam were sitting on a small wall ledge in the cemetery talking while Dean and Alex investigated further.
"Searching death certificates. Trying to find out what happened to Isaiah's body," replied Sam.
He pulled a blade of grass apart and threw the pieces to the ground.
"How'd they even get in the door?"
"Lying, mostly."
Sam looked up at her then.
"You have an eyelash."
He reached over and brushed her cheek softly, removing the eyelash.
"Make a wish."
Sarah smiled and lightly blew the eyelash off of his finger.
"Can I ask you something?" asked Sarah.
"Yeah, sure."
Sarah sighed deeply before continuing.
"I don't mean to be forward, but is there something here between us or am I delusional?" asked Sarah.
"You're not delusional," said Sam.
"But…" started Sarah.
"But I don't think that this would be a good idea."
"Can I ask why?"
"Because I like you."
"Wait. You lost me."
Sarah shook her head and Sam sighed, looking over at her.
"Look, it's hard to explain. It's just that when people are around me, they get hurt."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, like, physically hurt. With what my siblings and I do, it's…"
Sam sighed deeply, but continued anyway.
"Sarah, I had a girlfriend. She died and my mom died, too. I don't know. It's like I'm cursed or somethin'. Like death just follows me around. Look, I'm not scared of much, but if I have feelings for anybody…"
He trailed off then and looked over at her, pain evident on his face.
"You're scared they'll get hurt," finished Sarah.
Sam nodded and looked down at the ground.
"That's very sweet and also very archaic."
Sam scoffed.
"I'm sorry?"
"Look, I'm a big girl, Sam, and it's not your job to make decisions for me. There's always a chance of getting hurt."
"I'm not talking about a broken heart. I'm talkin' about life and death."
"Well, I could get hit by a bus tomorrow. That's how life is. Look, I know all about losing someone you love. It's terrible. But don't cut yourself off. I know. But when you shut out pain, you shut out everything else, too."
"Sarah, you don't understand the pain that I went through. I can't go through it again. I just can't."
He looked at her and she stared back.
"Are we interrupting something?" asked Dean then, standing in front of them with Alex directly beside him.
"No. What'd you get?" asked Sam, looking at him.
"Apparently, the surviving relatives of the Merchant family were so ashamed of Isaiah that they didn't want him burned with the rest of the family. So, they handed him over to the county who gave him a funeral, economy style. Turns out he wasn't cremated. He was buried in a pine box," said Dean.
"So, there are bones to burn," said Alex.
"Tell me you know where," said Sam.
Alex nodded, a small but triumphant smile playing on her lips.
Sarah held the flashlight as Dean and Sam dug up the grave of Isaiah Merchant. Alex stood directly beside her, holding another flashlight. Alex yawned as Sam jumped out of the hole and stood next to Sarah.
"You seem to be uncomfortably comfortable with this," said Sarah.
"This isn't exactly the first grave we've dug," said Sam.
Alex rolled her eyes and Dean hit the coffin with his shovel. He smashed the lid with his shovel and climbed out of the grave, grabbing the salt and pouring it on the bones. He then dumped the gasoline on the bones as well and took out a match.
"You've been a real pain in the ass, Isaiah. Good riddance," said Dean, throwing the match onto the bones.
He stood next to Alex and watched as the bones went up in flames.
Sarah was sitting in the backseat of the Impala with Alex when Dean stopped his car in front of Evelyn's home.
"Leave the motor running," said Sam.
He opened his passenger side door and stepped out.
"Wait, I thought the painting was harmless now?" asked Sarah, looking even more confused than she already was.
"Better safe than sorry."
"Wait. I want to come with you."
Sarah followed Sam out of the car and they ducked under the yellow crime scene tape to enter the house. They walked into the living room and looked up at the painting.
"Um, Sam? You're the expert on all of this ghost stuff, but is this painting supposed to look like that?" asked Sarah.
Sam looked at the painting closer and noticed that the little girl was gone from the painting.
"Where's the little girl?" asked Sarah.
"And the razor?" asked Sam.
They suddenly whirled around as the front door slammed shut quickly.
Dean and Alex were sitting in the Impala when the front door suddenly slammed closed of its own accord. They rushed out of the Impala and ran up the steps to push against the door. They pushed as hard as they could, but the door didn't budge one inch. Dean pulled out his cell phone as it began to ring and saw that it was Sam calling.
"Tell me you slammed the door closed," said Dean.
"It wasn't me. I think it was the little girl," said Sam.
"What girl?"
"In the painting. I think it might've been her all along. Just try to get us out of here."
"The door won't budge."
"Dean, the damn thing is comin'."
"You'll have to hold it off until we figure somethin' out. Find some salt."
Sam held his cell phone to his ear with his cheek and dragged Sarah into the kitchen to look for salt. They opened every cabinet and drawer, but found no salt. They then ran into the office to look for iron.
"What kind of house doesn't have salt?" yelled Sam.
"There's no iron either," said Sarah, looking fearful.
Suddenly, the doors to the office slammed closed and papers began flying around the room. The little girl appeared, her doll in one hand and the razor in the other palm. Sam stepped in front of Sarah, blocking her with his body. He grabbed the fireplace poker from beside the fireplace. The ghost stepped closer and Sam swung the poker right through her, causing her to disappear.
"Sammy, you alright?" asked Dean through the phone.
He and Alex were walking around the wrap-around porch outside.
"Yeah. For now."
"How are we going to waste her?"
"She was already cremated, so there's nothing left there to burn."
"Then how's she still around?"
"There must be somethin' else."
Alex stopped suddenly and grabbed Dean's arm.
"What is it, Alex?" he asked her, looking over at her.
"The doll, Dean. Antique dolls were the spitting image of the child who owned them. Hair, everything," said Alex.
"Sammy, Alex says it's the doll," said Dean into his cell phone.
"The one in the crypt," agreed Sam.
The lights flickered inside the house as the little girl returned. Sam was thrown against the wall and pinned behind a dresser. Sarah was thrown into the wall across from Sam and she rolled across the floor.
Dean and Alex ran into the crypt. They spotted the box full of the kid's toys behind a glass plate. Dean ran over and tried to smash the glass with his elbow. The glass didn't break and Dean cursed.
"Fuck."
"Come on, Dean," said Alex.
Dean turned to her as she pulled her gun out of her waistband and shot the glass. It shattered and Dean ran over to it as Alex put her gun back into her waistband. Dean took out his lighter with one hand as he held the doll in the other. After a few tries, the doll's hair finally caught on fire and Dean threw the doll to the ground once it was done burning. Dean took out his cell phone and called Sam.
"You good?" asked Dean.
"Not bad," said Sam.
Dean smirked and hung up.
The next morning, the Winchesters and Sarah were at Sarah's house, watching as the creepy painting got loaded into a large box.
"So, I found some old county records. The Merchants adopted daughter Melanie. Know why she was up for adoption? Because her real family was murdered in their beds," said Dean.
"She killed them?" asked Sarah, incredulous.
"Yep. Isaiah's spirit's been tryin' to warn people."
"Where's this one go?" asked one of the movers who was hired to move the painting.
"Take it out back and burn it," answered Sarah.
The men nodded dutifully and carried the box around the back.
"So, why'd the little girl do it?" asked Sarah, watching as the two movers disappeared around the corner.
"When people die, their spirits are sometimes just as dark," said Sam.
Sarah nodded and sighed sadly. She looked over at Sam then.
"I guess this means that you're leaving," said Sarah.
Dean looked between Sarah and Sam, sighing.
"Alex and I will wait in the car."
Dean smirked at Sam and followed Alex out of the Blake household.
"There are a million things that I want to say to you, but for the life of me, I can't think of one right now," said Sarah.
"Yeah. I'll miss you, too," smiled Sam.
"You know, there's a lesson in all this. We got through this in one piece. I didn't get hurt."
"Yeah, I'm glad for that."
"Maybe you're not cursed. Maybe… you'll come back and see me," said Sarah.
"I will," said Sam, nodding once, a curt nod.
Dean and Alex were leaning against the Impala when the front doors of the Blake household opened. Sam walked out and Sarah shut the doors behind him. Dean sighed and turned to unlock his car door, but Alex smacked his arm and he turned around. They watched as Sam stopped at the bottom of the stairs and then he turned around, walking back up the steps and knocking on the front doors. Sarah opened them and smiled as Sam tilted his head down to kiss her. Alex smiled as she watched them kiss and Dean smiled, too.
"That's my boy," said Dean.
He got into the car and Alex smiled as Sam kissed Sarah one last time. He let her go and walked down the steps to the car.
"Good job, bro," said Alex.
Sam laughed and followed Alex into the car.