Sam and I were sitting at a table in a bar, strewn with papers. Dean was leaning on the bar talking to a woman, as usual. Sam picks up a newspaper and gestures to Dean, who gives him a 'wait' gesture as he laughs at something the woman whispers. Sam gestures again and Dean's smile drops. He turns to the woman saying something to her.
He then walks over to us, holding three beers. "All right, I think we got something." Sam said to Dean, who glances back at the bar. "Oh yeah, me too. I think we need to take a little shore leave, just a little bit. What do you think, huh? I'm so in the door with this one." He said.
"So what are we today Dean? I mean, are we rock stars, are we army rangers?" Sam asked, Dean grins. "Reality TV scouts, looking for people with special skills. I mean hey, it's not that far off right?" He asked, Sam shakes his head.
"By the way, (Name)...." Dean said, pointing at me then back at the bar with his thumb. "Bartender been checking you out all night. Even someone like you can get a hook up. What do you think?" He asked. I glance over at the bar, where a handsome bartender man was cleaning the glasses.
He notice me watching and smiles at me, I look away, back at Dean. "Yeah, no thanks Dean. I can get my own dates." I said. "Yeah you can but you don't." He said, glancing at his brother for a second. "What is that supposed to mean?" I asked.
"Nothing. What you guys got?" Dean asked, looking at the scattered paper on the table. "Mark and Ann Telesca of New Paltz, New York were both found dead in their own home, a few days ago. Throats were slit. There were no prints, no murder weapons, all..." I explained but Dean was distracted, continuing to check out women in the bar.
"Dean!" Sam said, getting Dean to takes his attention off the women and back onto us. "No prints, no murder weapons, all doors and window locked from the inside." Sam said, as Dean drinks his beer. "Could just be a garden variety murder you know, not our department." Dean said
"No. Dad says different." Sam said. "What do you mean?" Dean asked. Sam turns the journal around pointing at it and a map. "Dad noted three murders in the same area of upstate New York. First one here in 1912, second one right here 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." He explained.
"And now we got one. All right, I'm with ya. It's worth checking out. We can't pick this up till first thing though right?" Dean asked. "Yeah." I replied. "Good." Dean said, heading back to the bar. "Dean..." Sam called out but Dean was already back at the bar chatting up the woman and her friend.
Sam sniggers and shakes his head, returning to our papers. I smile lightly, before making eye contact with the bartender again. He smiles at me again but I drop my gaze back onto the papers. "(Name)." Sam said, I quickly lifted my head to look at him. "Yeah?" I asked.
3rd Person P.O.V
As Dean talks to the women he glances back at the table. (Name) was looking at his brother with an affectionate smile, listening to Sam like everything he said was important. Whiles Sam was somehow completely oblivious of this switch in mood whenever she's with him.
It's pretty obvious that Sam doesn't feel the same way for (Name). Either he genuinely doesn't feel the same way or he won't allow himself too. He only wants to see (Name) as a friend and nothing more.
But (Name) can't just turn off her own feelings for him like a light switch. It probably be easier if she would try to move on and be with other men. But the poor girl stays in her own little bubble, never even attempting to talk to anyone unless it's for a case.
Sometimes people like (Name)... just need a little push to help get them started.
(Name's) P.O.V
The next morning, Dean was slouched in the passenger seat of the Impala asleep, sunglasses on. Sam walks around the car, leans in and honks the horn. Dean jumps up awake, completely startled. Sam and I laugh as we enter the car, Sam in the driver seat and me in the back.
"Man, that is so not cool." Dean mumbled, adjusting his sunglasses. "We just swept the Telescas with EMF. It's clean. And last night, while you were....well...out..." Sam said, Dean smirks. "Good times." He muttered, taking his sunglasses off. "(Name) and I checked the history of the house. Nothing strange about the Telescas." Sam said.
"All right, so if it's not the people and it's not the house, then maybe it's the contents. Cursed object or something." Dean said. "The house is clean." I said. "Yeah I know, Sam said that." Dean said. "No, I mean it's empty. No furniture, nothing." I said, Dean turn his head slightly to look at me. "Where's all their stuff?" He asked.
We headed to the auction house that was selling off all the furniture from the house. Dean parked the dust covered Impala next to a line of expensive cars. We walk inside, being greeted by the sound of classical violin music playing as upper class people were mingling.
The boys and I wander around, looking completely out of place in our casual, rough clothing. Dean takes finger food from a tray. "Consignment auctions, estate sales. Looks like a garage sale for Wasps if you ask me." Dean muttered as he takes more food from a tray on a table.
"Can I help you lady and gentlemen?" A voice behind us asked. We turn around to see a man, that Dean look him up and down and puts more food in his mouth. "I'd like some champagne please." He said in a posh voice, while his mouth is stuffed. "He's not a waiter." Sam said, sharply to Dean, who cocks an eyebrow.
Sam holds out his hand to the man. "I'm Sam Connors." He introduced himself. The man just looks at him, not moving. Sam moves the hand he's holding out to point at Dean and I. "That's my brother Dean and our partner (Name) Reese. We're art dealers, with Connors Limited." He said.
"You. Are... art dealers." The man said, in disbelief. "That's right." Sam said and I nodded, the man eyes us for a moment. "I'm Daniel Blake, this is my auction house. Now lady and gentlemen this is a private showing, and I don't remember seeing you on the guest list." He said.
"We're there chuckles, you just need to take another look." Dean said. A waiter goes past with drinks on a tray, which Dean takes one of the glasses. "Oh. Finally." Dean said, turning back to Blake, sniffing the glass, raises his eyebrows then turns and walks away. "Cheers." Sam said to Blake before he and I hastily follows Dean, with Sam shooting Dean a dirty look.
We check out the items for auction and until my eyes landed on a painting of a family. I eyed the painting as I'm drawn towards it, with the boys coming up to my side to look at it. "I fine example of American Primitive wouldn't you say?" A voice said.
We turn to see a sleek, classy, extremely good looking young man in a black suit coming down a spiral staircase. We stare at him as he turn his back walking and taking the final part of the stairs. I turn back to look at the painting again and Dean slap me on the back. I jerk my head to look at him, confused.
I turn back to the man, who was now standing in front of us, looking at me. "Actually it's more Grant Wood than Grandma Moses." I said, the man smiles. "You weren't testing me were you?" I asked, the man chuckles. "Guilty. And clumsy. I apologize. I'm Soren Blake." He introduced himself.
"I'm (Name). These are my friends Sam and his brother Dean." I introduced us, while Dean continues to stuff his face from passing trays. "Dean. Can we get you some more mini-quiche?" Soren asked him. "I'm good, thanks." Dean replied as he chews his food.
"So, can I help you with something?" Soren asked us, mostly looking at me. "Yeah, actually. What can you tell us about the Telesca estate?" Sam asked. "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. Even the rich ones." Soren explained.
"Is it possible to see the provenances?" I asked. "I'm afraid there isn't any chance of that." Blake said, coming up from behind his son. "Why not?" I asked. "You're not on the guest list. And I think it's time to leave." Blake replied.
"Well we don't have to be told twice." Dean said, putting on his posh voice again. "Apparently you do." Blake said, annoyed. "Okay. It's all right. We don't want any trouble. We'll go." Sam said. Dean raises his eyebrows and walks off with his brother. Soren and I exchange a long look before I follow the boys.
"Grant Wood, Grandma Moses? Why do you know anything about Art history?" Dean asked me as we walked towards our motel room with our bags. "No reason." I replied, glancing at Sam for a moment. "It's like I don't even know you." Dean said, unlocking the door.
We enter the room, to see it's totally over the top retro 70s disco fantasy. We look from one side of the room to the other and pause. "Huh." We all said in unison. We move into the room, dumping our bags. "What was... providence?" Dean asked. "Prov-e-nance. 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 explained.
"Huh. Well, we're not getting anything out of chuckles, but Soren..." Dean said, snapping his fingers at me, smirking. "Yeah, maybe we can get him get some info out of him." I said, making Dean laugh. "Not us." He said, I look at him, confused.
Dean just smirks back at me, raising his eyebrows. "Wait. You want me to... No no no, bad idea! Pick ups are your thing Dean." I said. "It wasn't my butt he was checking out." Dean said, I look at him, nervously. "You do realize I got like zero experience with this sort of thing. Right?" I asked.
"Sometimes you gotta take one for the team." Dean said, taking out his cellphone and holding it out to me. "Call him." He said. I look at the phone like it was bomb, that would go off the moment I touched it.
Dean wiggles the phone in front of my face, trying to get me to take it but I wouldn't. He sighs and pulls it back, flipping it open and dialing the auction house's number. "Yes hello! Can I speak with Soren Blake, please?" He asked.
After a couple seconds, Dean grins. "Hey, Soren. It's Dean.... No I didn't forget anything, I'm actually calling on behalf of my very shy but devastatingly beautiful friend, (Name). She was uh just wondering, would you like to have dinner with her?" He asked Soren, while smirking at me. I lower my gaze to floor, nervously.
"Great! How does tonight sound? ...7:00? Perfect! ...Yeah, I know where that is. Alright, thanks." Dean said, hanging up his phone. "Alright, you got anything nice to wear, Piglet?" He asked me. I look down at the clothes I'm wearing then back up at Dean, spreading my arms like, 'this is it'. "Yeah, that's not gonna cut it." He said.
3rd Person P.O.V
Dean sat in a chair in front of the dressing room in a clothing store, reading through a magazine. Sam paces behind him, seeming deep in thought.
"Come on, what's the hold up?" Dean asked, looking up at the curtain of the dressing room. "Remind me again why I gotta wear this?" (Name) asked from behind the curtain, not sounding very happy.
"(Name), this is a first date. A first date at a restaurant, you gotta look the part." Dean said, tossing the magazine aside. "My clothes were fine." (Name) said, Dean shook his head. "No wonder you never had a boyfriend before." He muttered.
"What did you say?" (Name) asked. "I said get your ass out here before I come in there and drag you out." Dean said. (Name) sighs and grabs the curtain pulling it back to revel she's wearing a classy black dress that Dean had picked out for her.
On the upper left part of her chest just under her collarbone, she had a pentagram tattoo that look very similar to the anti-possession charm she used to wear growing up.
Sam stop cold in his tracks, staring at her awestruck. Dean cross his arms, looking her up and down and nodding in approval. (Name) stared at the boys, getting flustered. "For the record, I hate this." She grumbled.
"Oh come on (Name), you actually don't look half bad. Ain't that right, Sam?" Dean asked, turning his head to look up at his brother behind him. Sam doesn't say anything and just continued staring at (Name), like she was otherworldly. "Sammy?" Dean said, a sly grin soon appearing on his lips.
(Name) frowns and sighs, spreading her arms. "Go on, say it. I look ridiculous." She said, Sam shook his head a little. "N-no. No you look... pretty." He said. (Name) look at him surprised, blushing.
"Good! You look pretty good." Sam suddenly said, with a nervous smile. He lets out a weak chuckle and gives a thumbs up. "Uh thanks." (Name) muttered, looking down disappointed but not seeming all that surprised.
"I uh... I'm gonna change out of this thing so we can pay for it." (Name) said, grabbing the curtain and pulling in front of her so she could change. As soon (Name) disappeared behind the curtain, Sam turns away grimacing with embarrassment.
Dean watches Sam walk away, frustrated with himself. Dean sigh, shaking his head and rubbing his temple. "These two are giving me a headache." He mumbled under his breath.
Returning to the motel, Sam was in the bathroom, washing his hands and frowning at his own reflection. "OW!" He heard (Name) yelp on the other side the door. "Hold still!" Dean growled. "No! You get the hell away from me!" (Name) yelled.
Sam exit the bathroom and sees Dean chasing (Name) around the room like they were children. "What's going on?" Sam asked, unsure if he should laugh or not, at such a childish sight.
"Dean's trying to kill me!" (Name) cried, retreating over to Sam and hiding behind his back. "I am not, don't be a crybaby." Dean said, stopping in front of Sam, holding up a brush. "It's like you're trying to rip my hair out of my skull!" (Name) growled, clinging onto Sam for protection.
"Give me that." Sam said, snatching the brush out of Dean's hand. He then turns around looking at (Name) and pointing towards the mirror with the brush, where an empty chair was waiting. "Sit." He said.
(Name) took a seat in front of the mirror and Sam stood behind her, using the brush to remove any knots and tangles. (Name) bit the bottom of her lip, feeling butterflies in her stomach from this act.
Every time she felt Sam's fingers run through her hair, occasionally brushing against the back of her neck, this fluttering feeling inside her, would become more and more intense.
"Since when do you know anything about hair?" Dean asked, watching Sam intently groom (Name's) hair for her. "I used to help Jessica with her hair sometimes." Sam replied, not taking his eyes off his work.
Sam then pulls her hair back, using a hair tie to put it into a ponytail. He then braids it and wraps it around into a spiral shape and tucking it beneath the base of the bun he made. Dean furrows his brow in confusion as he watches Sam do a few finishing touches by securing (Name's) hair with few bobby pins.
"There. All done." Sam said, stepping away. (Name) turns, trying to look at her braided bun in the mirror. "Wow Sam. I wouldn't have guessed you were so good with hair." She said, amazed, Sam chuckles a little. "That's the only I know. Jessica always liked the bun braided." He said.
(Name) stood up and turn to face Sam, who drop his smile slightly. Seeing her in that dress and her hair dolled up nicely, suddenly made him nervous but also excited at the same time.
"Thank Sam." (Name) said, flashing him an adorable smile, that made it feel as if Sam's heart just stop for a moment. Sam clear his throat and nodded, mustering up a little smile of his own. "Anytime." He muttered, unsure exactly how to feel about all these familiar emotions returning to him and becoming stronger and harder to ignore.
The Impala pulled up in front of a restaurant, (Name) look out her window at the restaurant, anxiously. "All right. Listen to me." Dean said, turning in his seat to look at the girl in the backseat, one arm going over the back of his seat. (Name) turn away from the window to look at him.
"Let him treat you, avoid topics of boyfriends and wanting to get marry, don't cross your arms or lean away, listen to your gut if you feel something isn't right about him, and don't be afraid to make move the first move." Dean said, smirking.
"That's a lot to keep track of." (Name) muttered, looking even more anxious. "Main thing is, be yourself (Name)." Sam said, turning in his seat to look at her.
"What if he doesn't like that?" She asked. "Then he's a jerk and he'll be missing out on someone really special." Sam replied, with a gentle smile. (Name) look at him stunned, her cheeks turning a little red, then she smiles, bashfully.
"Oh and most importantly... there's nothing wrong with having a little fun on the first date." Dean said, grinning. "Uh..." (Name) muttered, looking at him uncomfortable. "Dean." Sam said, exasperated, shooting him a dirty look.
Sam sighs and return his gaze onto (Name). "Don't listen to him. Just be yourself and don't feel pressured to do anything you don't want to do." He said, giving her an encouraging smile. (Name) smiles slightly and nodded. "Go get 'em, tiger." Dean said.
(Name) continued sitting in the backseat staring at the boys, nervously. "Don't make me push you." Dean said, warningly. "All right I'm going, I'm going." (Name) grumbled, sliding over to the door on the passenger side. "Have fun." Sam said, watching her climb out of the car.
(Name) took a couple steps towards the entrance, then stops to look over her shoulder back at the Impala. The boys smile at her, Dean giving her a wink and Sam giving a thumbs up. (Name) smiles back slightly and enters the restaurant.
As soon as she was inside, Sam drop his smile and now look sad. He had this burning, sickening feeling in his chest. He's been feeling it all day since meeting Soren, but it was now so much more intense. Knowing (Name) was now on a date with him made him sick to his stomach.
"You okay over there, Sammy?" Dean asked, glancing over at his brother as he drive the Impala away from the restaurant. "Yeah, fine. Why wouldn't I be?" Sam asked, acting clueless.
Dean glances over at him again and smirks. "You're not jealous are you?" He asked. "Man, come on." Sam said, rolling his eyes. "I'm just saying, you got that sad puppy dog look on your face." Dean pointed out.
"I'm not jealous!" Sam said, defensively, Dean just smirks, knowingly. "I'm not!" Sam exclaimed. "I didn't say anything." Dean said. "Then wipe that stupid smirk off your face, alright?" Sam growled, but Dean's smirk only grows bigger.
Sam sighs, turning his head to look out his window. He won't admitted it out loud, but he wishes he was the one going on that date with (Name) instead of Soren.
He closes his eyes, trying to reminded him himself why he can't have that. Can't let himself feel something for (Name) that goes beyond friendship... but he found himself having trouble doing that this time. Some small part of him wanted to take that chance and be with someone again, but not just with anyone, with (Name). Sam groaned, ignoring such an innocent but ridiculous idea.
(Name's) P.O.V
I sat awkwardly across from Soren, in a fancy restaurant that was way too rich for my blood. To say I felt like a fish out of water would be an understatement. I was more like a fish in the desert.
"Nice place." I said, glancing around nervously. "Yeah." Soren replied and there was a awkward long pause of silent between us. "Glad you called. Surprised, but glad." Soren said, breaking the silence. "Yeah?" I asked.
"Although, I suppose I should say I'm glad your friend Dean called on your behalf. It's a little cute that you were too shy to do it yourself." Soren said, grinning, I nodded, sheepishly. "Ahh yeah. I haven't really been on a date.... ever before so..." I said, glancing down at the table, nervously.
"You're kidding me." Soren said, surprised, I shrugged. "I don't usually get on guy's radar." I muttered. Actually I try to keep it that way.
"Well they are missing out on beautiful woman." Soren said, I glance up for a moment surprised by the compliment. Soren smiles at me and I dropped my gaze again.
"If it makes you feel better, (Name). I haven't been on a date in a while. So this sort of new territory for me too." Soren said. "Really?" I asked, lifting my head again. "Here we are." The waiter said, coming over to our table and handing us our menus.
"The wine list." He said, handing me a 2nd menu. I looked at the wine list nervously and slowly took it. I was totally uncomfortable, as I flip through pages randomly. Why the hell are there so many options?!
"I don't know about Juliet here but I'll have a beer." Soren said to the waiter. "And you?" The waiter asked me. "Uh... make that two." I said, smiling a little.
Later, after a few beers I found myself able to talk to Soren more easily. "So you studied art in school?" I asked. "It's true. I was an artist. A terrible terrible artist. And that's why I'm in the auction business. What about you?" He asked. "Oh. I uh never went to college." I replied, taking a swig of my beer. "How come?" Soren asked.
"Uh... that's a long and complicated story for another time." I said. Though it's more like a story that will never be tell. Can't really go on to explain that my life as a hunter keeps me from getting a higher education.
"You're not like any art dealer I've ever met." Soren said and we exchange another long look. "So, what did you mean when you said you haven't been on a date in a while. Trying to make me feel like I'm not such a loser?" I asked. "I'm sure you're many things (Name). I'm also sure loser isn't one of them." Soren said and we exchange more long looks.
"It was my Mom. She died about a year ago. Totally unexpected. It really threw me. I went into this shell. A nice warm safe shell. But lately I've been thinking. It's not what she would have wanted for me. So...." Soren explained and we exchanged even more long looks.
"So what about you? You said you never been on a date before. Though I still don't understand how. Why haven't you been out and about? Hasn't any guy fallen onto your radar before?" Soren asked. I think for a moment and looked at him, losing my smile.
"Another long story for another time." Soren said, questionably. I nodded slowly, taking another swig of my beer, while thinking of Sam's stupid attractive face.
After the date I return to the motel. Dean was sharpening his blade on a whetstone, while Sam and I were looking through some papers. "So he just handed the providences over to you?" Dean asked me. "Provenances." Sam corrected him. "Provenances?" Dean said, haltingly.
"Yes. We went back to his place, I got a copy of the papers..." I said, not looking up from the paper I was reading. "And?" Dean asked. "And nothing. That's it. I left." I replied. "You didn't have to con him or do any... special favors or anything like that?" Dean asked, I frown dropping the paper to look over at him. "Dean, would it kill you to keep your mind out of the gutter, for once?" I asked, making him laugh.
"You know when this whole thing's done, we could stick around for a little bit." Dean said. "Why?" I asked. "So you and him can go out again. It's obvious you're into him, even I could see that." Dean said, making me roll my eyes. Maybe you should get your eyes checked Dean.
"Hey, I think I've got something here." Sam said, thankfully ending this conversation. Dean comes over and Sam hands him the papers. "Portrait of Isaiah Merchant's family, painted 1910." Dean read aloud. "Now compare the names of the owners with Dad's journal." Sam said.
Dean takes a seat in the other chair, checking the names on the list with his father's journal. "First purchased in 1912, Peter Simms. Peter Simms murdered 1912. Same thing in 1945. Oh, same thing in 1970." He said.
"Then stored, until it was donated to a charity auction last month. Where the Telescas bought it. So what do you think, it's haunted? or cursed?" Sam asked. "Either way, it's toast." Dean said, getting up.
We return to the auction house at night. Dean leaped and easily scales the meters high metal gates and sprints into the mist. "Come on!" He whispered yelled at us, Sam and I followed him up and over the gate.
Sam, wearing gloves, disarms the security alarm. "Go ahead." Sam said to me and I picked the lock also wearing gloves. We shine our flashlights around inside, quickly searching for the painting. Dean spies it upstairs and we sprint up the spiral staircase.
Holding his flashlight in his mouth, Dean flicks his switchblade and cuts the painting from it's frame. We're in and out within a couple of minutes. I guess years of breaking and entering, really pay off.
We took the painting to a dirt road, where we laid it down in the dirt. Sam and I are holding our flashlights as Dean readies the matches. "Ugly ass thing. If you ask me we're doing the art world a favor." Dean said, before he drop the match and the painting ignites.
The next morning, Sam and I were packing when Dean rushes in from the bathroom. "We got a problem.... I can't find my wallet." He said. "How is that our problem?" Sam asked, as he packed his duffel bag. "Cause I think I dropped it in the warehouse last night." Dean exclaimed. Sam and I stop mid-packing to look at him, horrified.
"You're kidding, right?" I asked. "No. It's got my prints, my ID, well my fake ID anyway. We gotta get it before someone else finds it. Come on." Dean said, heading right out the door. Sam and I look at each other, he shakes his head and follows his brother. I toss the shirt I was holding into my duffel bag and follow them out.
We ran into the auction house, hurrying around, and looking everywhere. "How do you lose your wallet, Dean?" Sam asked, frustrated. Dean throws his hands in the air and keeps looking. "Hey guys!" I heard Soren's voice say. We whirl around, to see Soren himself there smiling at us.
We try and act cool, like nothings wrong. "Soren! Hey." I said, flashing an awkward smile. "What are you doing here?" He asked. "Ahh, we.... we are leaving town and, you know, we came to say goodbye." I said, digging my hands in my jacket's pocket and shrugging my shoulders.
Dean strolled over to me. "What are you talking about (Name), we're sticking around for at least another day or two." He said, I looked at him, confused. Dean takes his wallet out of his pocket and looking meaningfully at me. "Oh, (Name). By the way. I'm gonna go ahead and give you that $20 I owe you." He said.
Dean then looks at Soren. "I always forget, you know." He said as Sam and I looked at him in disbelieve. Dean holds out some cash to me, smiling. "There you go." He said, grinning. I snatch the cash from his hand, glaring at him.
"Well Sam and I will leave you two crazy kids alone, we gotta go do something... somewhere." Dean said, leaving quickly. Sam stares at Soren and I for a long moment, before turning away and following after his brother. He glances back over his shoulder as he left.
I watch Sam leave, waiting till he was out the door before looking at Soren. "Soooo..." I said, awkwardly, slightly swaying my body side to side, like a kind of nervous dance. "I had a good time last night." Soren said. "Oh uh yeah. I did too." I said. "Maybe we should do it again sometime." Soren said, sounding hopeful.
"I uh... You know I'd like to, but Dean, he was just screwing around. We really are taking off today." I said, causing Soren to drop his smile. "Oh. Oh. Ah that's too bad." He muttered. I then saw the painting being carried past, completely untouched. "OH MY GOD!" I exclaimed in shock. Soren jumps and turns to look. "What?" He asked.
"The.... that painting.... looks so good!" I said, nervously. Soren looks at the painting then back to me. "If you can call that monstrosity good, then... yeah, I guess." He said. "So... uh what do you know about that painting?" I asked.
"Not much... just that it creeps me out. We sold it to the Telescas at a charity auction the night they were murdered." Soren replied. "Yeah, and now you're just going to sell it again?" I asked, raising my voice. "As much as my Dad wants to, no, I won't let him. I think it'd be in bad taste." Soren said.
"Good. Yeah. You know what? Don't. Don't. Make sure you don't, okay?" I said, Soren raise an eyebrow at me. "Why? Don't tell me you're interested in that?" He asked.
Flustered, I stared backing up. "No. No, God, no. Not in buying it, no. You know what, I gotta go, I gotta take care of something. But umm, I will call you back... I will call you, I'll see you later." I said, backing up towards the door.
"Wait, so you're... not leaving tonight?" Soren asked, confused. "No-o-o, I guess not. Laters, gators." I then waved awkwardly at Soren and headed outside to catch up to the boys.
We got into the Impala, closing our doors simultaneously. "I don't understand, boys, we burned the damn thing." I said, leaning froward in the backseat. "Yeah, thank you Captain Obvious. All right, we just need to figure out another way to get rid of it. Any ideas?" Dean asked.
"Okay, all right. Well, um, in almost all the lore about haunted paintings it's always the painting's subject that haunts 'em." Sam said. "Yeah. 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?" Dean asked.
We headed to a second hand book shop, where the owner drop a big dusty book onto the table. "You said the Isaiah Merchant family right?" He asked. "Yeah that's right." Sam replied. Dean approaches, smiling and flicking through an old book about guns.
The owner laid another huge book down, opening it up and flipping through the newspaper clipping inside. "I dug up every scrap of local history I could find. So are you three crime buffs?" He asked.
"Kinda. Yeah. Why do you ask?" Dean asked taking a seat on the edge of the table. "Well..." The owner said, holding up a newspaper article. The lead story on the front page is; New Titanic Sinks, 1304 People Go To Watery Graves: Only 866 saved from 2,170 Aboard Liner Which Collides With Iceberg. Disaster Proves To Be the Greatest in Marine History of the World.
He points at a side article. It reads 'Father Slaughters Family, Kills Himself'. "Yes. Yeah, that sounds about right." Dean said. "The whole family was killed?" I asked. "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 owner explained. "Why'd he do it?" Sam asked.
"Let's look. Ahh..." The owner said, flipping the newspaper around and begins it reading out to us. "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.... Yeah yeah yeah... There were whispers that the wife was gonna take the kids and leave. Which of course you know in that day and age, um.... so instead, old man Isaiah... well he gave them all a shave."
He draws his hand across his throat with appropriate noises, laughing. Dean joins in but stops when Sam and I gives a disapproving look. "Does it say what happened to the bodies?" Dean asked. "Just that they were all cremated." The owner replied. "Anything else?" Sam asked, annoyed by this.
"Yeah. Actually I found a picture of the family. It's right here... somewhere. Right... here it is." The owner said, opening a book and showing it to us. Inside was a picture exactly like the painting. "Hey, could we get a copy of this please?" I asked. "Sure." He replied.
We return to the motel room, sitting at the table. "I'm telling you guys, I'm sure of it. The painting at the auction house, Dad is looking down. Painting here, Dad's looking out." Sam said, flipping the copy photo around towards Dean and I. "Yeah, and the painting has changed." I said, tapping on the photo.
"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 asked. "Well yeah, it seems like it." Sam said. "But if his bones are already dusted then how are we gonna stop him?" I asked.
"All right, well, if Isaiah's position changed then maybe some other things in the painting changed as well. You know it could give us some clues." Dean said. "What, like a Da Vinci Code deal?" Sam asked and Dean gives him a totally blank look.
"I don't.... know. Uhh... I'm still waiting for the movie on that one. Anyway, we gotta get back in and see that painting." Dean said, rising up and moving across to the bed, throwing himself onto his back and crossing his arms. "Which is a good thing cause (Name) here can get some more time to crush on her boyfriend." He said.
"Okay. You know what?" I said, slapping my hand on the table and turning around in my seat to look at him. "Dude. Enough already." I said, firmly. "What?" Dean asked. "What do you mean what? Ever since we got here, you've been trying to pair me up with Soren. Just back off, all right?" I growled.
"Well, you like him don't you?" Dean asked. I raise my arms and eye to the ceiling, in irritation. "All right, you like him, he likes you, you're both consenting adults..." He said, shrugging. "What's the point, Dean? Weren't just going to leave once this is all over and never come back." I said, frustrated.
"Well I'm not talking about marriage, (Name)." Dean replied. "Since when do you give a crap about my love life?" I asked, getting agitated. "Look either way, we still gotta see that painting, which means you still gotta call Soren, so..." Dean said, not even bothering to answer my question.
I stare at him, then huff out a breath and looked away. "Fine whatever." I said, grabbing my phone. "I'll give him a call." I said, getting up out of my chair and walking out the door for some privacy... and mostly to calm myself down.
3rd Person P.O.V
Sam waited a couple seconds after (Name) left before looking across the room at his brother. "You know, I don't get it. What do you care if (Name) hooks up?" He asked. "Cause then maybe she wouldn't be so depress all the time." Dean replied.
Sam look at him, confused. "What? What are you talking about, Dean? (Name) not depressed." He said. "Not when she's talking to you." Dean mumbled under his breath. "What?" Sam asked. "Nothing. Never mind it's not a important." He replied, defensively.
"Dean, what do we really don't know this guy. What if he's a liar that does some shady stuff?" Sam asked. "Like you're one to talk." Dean replied. Sam sighs and scratches his head.
Dean watches him closely. "Why do you care so much?" He asked, rising an eyebrow suspiciously. "I just don't want (Name) to get hurt." Sam muttered.
"(Name) a big girl, she can take care of herself. It's not your job to make decisions for her. There's always a chance of getting hurt." Dean said. "I'm not talking about a broken heart and a tub of Haagen Dazs." Sam said, getting upset.
Dean sits up looking at him, curious. "Then what are you talking about?" He asked, Sam doesn't answer. "I don't mean any disrespect but I'm sure this is about Jessica, right? You think what happen to her will happen to (Name)?" Dean asked softly, Sam still refuses to speak. But his silence was enough for an answer.
"Look I get it. I don't know what it's like to lose somebody like that but... (Name) has to live her life. She can't stay her in a bubble forever. I want her be happy... and I would think that Jessica would want you to be happy too." Dean said, Sam is quiet, listening with tears in his eyes.
"Yeah I know she would." He said, softly. Sam gives a half smile, then sighs heavily. "Yeah you're right. Part of this is about Jessica. But not the main part." Sam said. "What's it about?" Dean asked, Sam refuses to answer. "Yeah all right." Dean said, laying back again, crossing his arms
(Name's) P.O.V
I lean against the Impala staring down at my phone in my hand. I let out a heavy sigh and flip it open, dialing Soren's number. I then clear my throat and held the phone up to my ear. "Soren, hey, it's (Name)." I said, when I heard the ringing stop. "Oh hello (Name)." Soren greeted. "Hey, hi." I said, nervously.
"How are you?" Soren asked. "Good. Good, yeah. Umm. What about you?" I asked. "I'm good as well." Soren replied. "Yeah good, good, really good." I said, awkwardly. Smooth (Name), real smooth.
"So, ah, so listen. Me and my friends, 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." I told him. "Oh well I'm sorry (Name). But my dad didn't listen to me and sold the painting anyway." Soren replied. "What!?" I asked, stepping away from the car.
"My dad sold the painting." Soren repeated. "Who'd you sell it to?" I asked. "Evelyn. She's a family friend." Soren said. "Soren I need an address right now." I said, urgently making my way back to the motel room.
After getting Evenly's address from Soren, the boys and I got in the Impala and rushed right over to her mansion. The Impala roar up into the driveway and we jump out. Soren appears from a car waiting in the driveway. "(Name), what's happening?" He asked.
"I told you, you shouldn't have come." I said to him as we ran pass him and up the stairs to the front porch. Dean starts banging on the door. "Hello, anyone home?" He asked. "You said Evelyn might be in danger, what sort of danger?" Soren asked, coming up next to me.
"I can't knock this sucker down. I gotta pick it." Dean said and he starts to pick the lock as Sam bangs on the windows, which are covered with metal security bars. "What are you guys, burglars?" Soren asked, looking nervous. "I wish it was that simple." Sam replied.
"Look you really should wait in the car. It's for your own good." I said to Soren. Dean gets the door open, Sam and I quickly follows him inside. "The hell I will. Evelyn's a friend." Soren said, running in after us. "Evelyn?" Soren called out. "Evelyn." Dean said.
We enter a lounge, finding Evelyn sitting half turned away from us. I look at the painting hanging above the fireplace, seeing it has changed. Isaiah was now looking at his daughter rather than straight ahead.
"Evelyn? It's Soren Blake.... Are you all right?" Soren asked, slowly walking towards her. He reaches to touch Evelyn's shoulder. "SOREN DON'T! SOREN!" I shouted, urgently, reaching my hand out towards him. Evelyns's head tips back, exposing that her slashed throat. "Oh my god. OH MY GOD!!" Soren screamed. I puts my arm around him and shepherd him out of the room.
The next morning we're back in our motel room. Sam and Dean were sitting at the bar with the journal and laptop, while I pace around the room, anxiously. There is a knock on the door and I open it for Soren to storm right past me. "Hey. You all right?" I asked, closing the door. "No, actually, I just lied to the cops and told them I went to Evelyn's, alone, and found her like that." He replied. Dean smirks while Sam and I looked relieved. "Thank you." Sam said to him.
"Don't thank me, I'm about to call them right back if you don't tell me what the hell's going on. Who's killing these people?" He asked us, I look at the boys who raise their eyebrows. "What." I said, turning back to Soren "What?" Soren asked, confused. "It's not 'who'. It's 'what' is killing those people." I replied.
Soren looks at me like I'm insane, I sighed. "Soren, you saw that painting move." I said. "No... no I was... I was seeing things. It's impossible." Soren said, agitated, and pacing around the room. "Yeah well, welcome to our world." Dean said. "Soren, I know this sounds crazy... but we think that that painting is haunted." Sam said.
Soren stares at us for a moment. "You're joking." He said, looking from Dean, to Sam, to me. We all just stare at him. "You're not joking. God, the girls I go out with." He said, shaking his head. "Soren, think about it. Evelyn, the Telesca's, 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. And that's the truth." I explained.
Soren takes a deep breath to calm himself. "Then I guess you'd better show me. I'm coming with you." He said. "What? No. Soren no, you should just go home. This stuff can get dangerous. I don't want you to get hurt." I said.
"Look, you guys are probably crazy, but if you're right about this? Well me and my Dad sold that painting that mighta got these people killed. 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." Soren said, before striding to the door.
"So are we going or what?" He asked, turning back to look at me, then walks out. "(Name)?" Dean said, I looks across to where he was sitting. Dean points pass Sam and towards the door after Soren. "Marry that man." He said, I scoff and shook my head, turning away.
We return to Evelyn's house, where Sam started picking the lock. "Ahhh... isn't this a crime scene?" Soren asked us. "You've already lied to the cops. What's another infraction?" Dean asked him, as I took my knife out to cut the police sticker on the door.
Once inside Sam lifts the painting down from the wall and we examine it. "Aren't you worried that it's... gonna kill us?" Soren asked. "Nah, it seems to do its thing at night. I think we're all right in the daylight." Sam replied.
I compared the picture in the book with the painting. "Boys, check it out. The razor, it's closed in this one but it's open in that one." I said, showing Sam and Dean the picture for them to compared it. "What are you guys looking for?" Soren asked. "Well if the spirit's changing aspects of the painting then it's doing so for a reason." Dean explained.
"Hey hey look at this. The painting in the painting." Sam said, pointing at the painting. "Looks like a crypt, or a mausoleum or something." Dean said, looking around, he grabs a thick glass ashtray and uses it as a magnifying glass. "Merchant." He read aloud.
We went from graveyard to graveyard looking for the crypt in the painting. "This is the third boneyard we've checked. I think this ghost is jerking us around." Dean said as we walk through the graveyard. "So this is what you guys do for a living?" Soren asked me. "Not exactly. We don't get paid." I replied. "Well, Mazel tov." He said.
"Over there." Dean said, we turn to see the mausoleum. Dean breaks the lock and we enter, pushing aside the cobwebs. There is a number of name plates as well as four urns in front of little glass fronted boxes. Soren looks into one of the cases at a doll. "Okay, that right there.... is the creepiest things I've ever seen." He said.
"It was a... sort of tradition at the time. 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." Sam explained, as we look around. "Notice anything strange here?" Dean asked. "Ah... where do I start?" I asked, causing Sam and Soren to snigger, looking at me, then at each other.
"No, that's not what I mean. Look at the urns." Dean said, and we look at the urns in front of the glass boxes. "Yeah. There are only four." Sam said. "Yeah Mom and the three kids. Daddy dearest isn't here." Dean said. "So where is he?" I asked.
Later, Soren and I sat on a small wall, in front of a office building, waiting on Sam and Dean. "So what exactly are your friends doing in there?" Soren asked. "Searching county death certificates trying to find out what happened to Isaiah's body." I replied. "How'd they even get in the door?" Soren asked. "Lying and subterfuge mostly." I said, with a shrug.
Soren chuckles and looks at me. "You have a... uh.... you have an eyelash on your right..." He said. I reach my hand up to get it but I had no idea where the eyelash was. "No... uh... you know what" Soren said, stopping to laugh. "Do you mind if I get it?" He asked.
"No." I replied, Soren reach for it and holds it on his finger. "Okay, I got it. Make a wish." He said. I laugh and do so, blowing the eyelash away. Soren drops his hand and smiles at me. I look towards the ground to break eye-contact. "(Name), can I ask you something?" Soren asked. "Yeah, sure." I said, looking at him again.
"I don't mean to be forward, but a guy could wait here forever. Is there something, here, between us? Or am I delusional?" He asked and I shrugged. "To be honest, I don't know. I mean... I've never been in a relationship so I got no clue how this works." I said.
"Well... I like you a lot. Do you like me a lot?" He asked, I look away thinking on it. "Let me guess... You like someone already?" He asked, I turn back to look at him, surprised. "How did know?" I asked, Soren shrugged. "Just a gut feeling." He said.
"Well you're right. I kinda do like someone... but I shouldn't." I said. "Why?" Soren asked. "Because I know he'll never like me back. And there's like a problem he's dealing with and I don't wanna make it worse for him. I keep trying to move on but... it's hard. I know I should have moved on a long time ago. I've had a crush on him since we were kids. But..." I explained.
I stop to sigh and slap my knee. "There's just something about him that keep pulling me back. I know I'm just fooling myself at this point. Holding on to some false hope that one day, he'll see me the same way I see him. But that's never gonna happen and I should just accept that." I said, sadly.
"Well I think it's really sweet. This guy doesn't know what he's missing." Soren said, flashing me a smile. I look at him and this time, instead of looking away, I smiled back.
Dean then suddenly appears, getting us to break eye-connect to look at him. "Are we interrupting something?" He asked. "No." I replied. "Not at all." Soren said. Dean looked between us. "Huh. Apparently." He said. "So, what'd you boys get?" I asked.
"Paydirt. Apparently the surviving relatives of the Merchant family were so ashamed of Isaiah that they didn't want him interred with the rest of the family." Dean explained, holding up a piece of paper. Sam takes a seat next to me as Dean continues talking. I look at him and he smiles at me, I return the smile.
"So, they handed him over to the county, the county gave him a pauper's funeral. Economy style. Turns out he wasn't cremated, he was buried in a pine box." Dean said. "So there are bones to burn?" I asked. "There are bones to burn." Sam replied. "Tell me you boys know where." I said.
We headed to the graveyard at night, Sam and Dean dig up the grave while Soren and I hold flashlights for them. Sam crawls out of the grave to stand next to me. "You guys seem to be uncomfortably comfortable with this." Soren said. "Well, ah, this isn't exactly the first grave we've dug." Sam replied. "Still think I'm a catch?" I asked Soren, who laughs.
Dean taps his shovel on something hard. "Think I've got something." He said, cracking open the coffin lid to reveal a body. I pours the salt on the body, while Sam pours kerosene. Dean strikes a match. "You've been a real pain in the ass Isaiah. Good riddance." He said, tossing the match in. We all stand and watch the body burn.
We drove back over to Evelyn's house to grab the painting. "Keep the motor running." I said to Dean, opening my door about to get out. "I thought the painting was harmless now." Soren said. "Better safe than sorry. We're gonna bury the sucker." I replied.
Soren gets out of the car, decisively. "I'm gonna with you." He said. "You sure?" I asked. "Yeah." He replied already walking towards the stairs. "Hey! hey hey." Dean said, calling me back. "We'll stay here, you go make your move." He said, I scoff and got out of the car. "(Name). I'm serious!" Dean said as I walked away.
As Soren and I move up the stairs I heard the radio turn on and a love ballad starts playing. Grimacing, I turn around and give Dean a 'wtf' gesture. Dean makes a 'what?' gesture back, I motions him to cut off the music. Sam shook his head and turn off the radio, Dean sigh.
Soren and I move inside and stop in front of the painting, that has changed again. The little girl and the razor were gone. We look at the painting, surprised. "Ahhh, (Name)? You're the expert on all this ghost stuff. Is that painting supposed to look like that? Where's the little girl?" Soren asked. "And the razor." I said.
We hear noises and laughter and look around in time to see the front door shutting on us. I heard shouting and banging from the other side of the door and I ran over yanking on it. "Sam! Dean! Hey! Is that you?" I asked them.
"(Name), you all right?" Dean asked, on the another side of the door. My phone starts ringing and I pull it out to answered it. "Tell me you slammed the front door." Sam said. "Nope, it wasn't me. I think it was the little girl." I said, looking around for the spirit.
"Girl? What girl?" Dean asked. "Yeah she's out of the painting. I think it might've been her all along." I replied. "Wasn't the Dad looking down at her? Maybe he was trying to warn us." Dean said.
"Hey hey hey, let's recap later all right? Just get us out of here." I said, frantically. "Well I'm trying to pick the lock, the door won't budge." Dean said. "Well, knock it down." Sam said to Dean. "Okay genius, let me just grab my battering ram." Dean said, sarcastically.
"Boys, boys! The damn thing is coming." I said, trying get them to stop bickering. "Well you're just gonna have to hold it off until we figure something out." Dean said. "Get some salt or iron." Sam told me. I turn to Soren and grabbed his hand. "Come on." I said, pulling him towards the kitchen.
I rummaged through the drawers, Soren the lounge cupboards. "What kind of house doesn't have salt? Low-sodium freaks." I said, in annoyance. "Hey, d'you find any iron?" I then asked Soren. "No. What's it for?" He asked.
"Iron repels evil spirits but it's gotta be pure. Hurry." I told him, then I spoke into my phone. "Uh, boys, give me a sec, don't go anywhere." I pull my phone away to speak to Soren. "Look in the chair. Sometimes the seats." I instructed.
The lounge doors slam shut, wind blows papers everywhere. The girl appears, dragging her doll along the floor by one foot, a razor in her other hand. "(Name)?" Soren said, terrified. I back up, keeping Soren behind me. The ghost comes closer, moving in an inhuman manner. "That is just so wrong." Soren said.
I back into the fireside implements and grab the poker. The girl's face shivers and she roars. I swing at the ghost and she disappears. "Iron?" Soren asked. "Yeah." I replied. "(Name), you okay?" Sam asked on the phone. I pick up my phone to answer him. "Yeah, for now." I said.
"How we gonna waste her?" Dean asked. "I don't know, she was already cremated. There's nothing left to burn." Sam said. "Then how's she still around?" Dean asked. "There must be something else." I said.
"(Name) wait. We used to handle antique dolls at the auction." Soren informed me. "Well that's fascinating Soren but is it important right now?" I asked. "Well back then they use to make the dolls in the kids image, I mean everything, they would use the kid's real hair." He explained.
"Boys, Soren said the doll might have the kid's real hair. Human remains, same as bones." I said into my phone. "The Mausoleum!" The boys and I said in unison. The wind rises again, I put my phone away and raise the poker.
After keeping the little girl back for a while. A heavy cupboard came across the room, knocking me over and pinning me on the ground. Soren runs to help, calling my name. He hears a noise and spins, coming face to face with the ghost.
Soren is thrown through the air by the ghost. Soren pulls himself along the floor and pushes himself up against the wall, watching the ghost approach while raising the razor. I use all my strength to push the cupboard slowly away from me.
The ghost raises the razor, preparing to strike. "NO!" I shouted, diving for Soren pulling him out of the way just as the ghost is about to bring the razor down. At the same moment the ghost rears back, burning up. As she burns, her figure reappears back in the painting.
Soren and I lay on the floor together, looking around, then at each other. I pull away from Soren and took out my phone when it starts ringing. "(Name), you good?" Sam asked. "Not bad." I replied, leaning back against the wall next to Soren, exhausted.
We return to the Auction house in the morning, Soren and I were watching the painting be cremated up when the boys approached us. Sam holds up some paper. "This was archived in the county records. The Merchant's adopted daughter Melanie. Know why she was up for adoption? 'Cause her real family was murdered in their beds." He said.
"She killed them?" Soren asked, glancing to the painting right as it was covered up. "Yeah. Who'd suspect her? Sweet little girl. So then she kills Isaiah and his family. The old man takes the blame. His spirit's been trying to warn people ever since." Dean explained.
"So where's this one go?" One of the workers asked Soren. "Take it out back and burn it." He replied, the workers stops and looked at him. "I'm serious guys. Thanks." Soren said. The workers shrugged and pick up the crate, carrying it off.
"So why'd the girl do it?" Soren asked. "Killing others? Killing herself? Some people are just born tortured. So when they die, their spirits are just as dark." Sam replied. "Maybe. I don't really care. It's over, we move on." Dean said.
"Ahh... I guess this means you're leaving." Soren said to me. Sam and Dean look from me to Soren. I stare at them until they get it. "We'll go wait in the car." Sam said, turning and walking away. "See you Soren." Dean said, standing awkwardly for a second, looking at me, then nods and walks away.
"There are a million thing I wanna say to you but for the life of me I can't think of one." Soren said, once the boys were gone. "Yeah, I'll miss you too." I said. "You know there's a lesson in all of this." Soren said. "What's that?" I asked. "We all got through this in one piece. I didn't get hurt." He said, I chuckle. "Yeah I'm glad for that." I said.
"The guy you like isn't interested. So, maybe.... maybe you'll come back and see me." Soren said, hopeful, I stared at him for a moment. "Yeah maybe." I muttered, Soren drop his smile slightly and nodded. I think we both know I won't be coming back.
Soren let's me out and closes the door behind me. Dean who was leaning against the car, shakes his head, and get into the car. "You okay?" Sam asked me, leaning on the passenger side of the car. "Yeah." I replied, stopping in front of him. "You don't like him?" He asked, nodding to the door.
"He's nice and I like him a lot. It's just... I don't really feel anything, I guess." I said, Sam nodded. "Yeah, I get it. You'll find someone (Name)." He said, I stare up at him for a moment. "Yeah... I hope so." I muttered.
"You will. One day." Sam assured, giving me a tender smile. I gave a weak smile back and Sam turn away, getting into the Impala. "One day." I said, quietly to myself, before getting into the backseat and we drove away from the auction house.