Winchester and Cain

Chapter 20 – Provenance

Author's Note: Hey guys! Thank you so much for all your lovely reviews – they mean so much!

And in response to Warrant-For-Arrest's question:

Bro, I totally started out writing this with the plan of having Val with no one, but I think I had Dean/Val because someone asked for it… but in reality I don't know, I prefer Sam to Dean myself (don't hit me, ok?) so maybe that's why I had it shifted. Hmm but now? I have no idea, I definitely ship Darquesse/Sam – who here agrees?

"… Seven, Four, Two, Zero." I finished giving the guy at the bar my number. He was cute, with dark blonde hair and shy blue eyes.

The guy grinned, showing bright teeth, "Alright, you're in there. Perfect. So is that Lily with two 'l's or one?"

I smirked at Dean over my shoulder before looking back at the guy, "One." Dean gestured to me to come over and I touched the guy's shoulder seductively, "Call me." I smiled flirtatiously and walked over to Dean. "Ok, so you owe me five dollars." I grinned whilst Dean rolled his eyes as he dug into his jeans pocket; we had a competition on who could pick up someone the fastest in a new bar, the outstanding score since Dean and I had started playing was 4-2 to Dean, I guess it was 4-3 now.

"You cheated." The older Winchester replied sullenly as he handed the money over.

I rolled my eyes and shook my head at him as I tucked the money away, "You're such a sore loser, Dean."

"I am not!" Dean protested.

"You are too!" I argued childishly, a playful smile tugging on my lips, "Maybe you're losing your touch, Winchester." I teased.

"Guys! I think we've got something." Sam interrupted us, almost impatiently.

I showed Dean's lost earnings to Sam with a wry smirk, "Oh yeah, me too. Dean's off his game," I glanced to Dean smugly, "I guess he can't take the pressure."

"I still got that girl's number," The older Winchester rolled his eyes as he pointed to a young girl sitting at the bar, one of her hands lazily playing with a strand of her hair, "By the way Sam, she's got a friend over there. I could possibly hook you up, what do you think?" He elbowed his brother and grinned, but Sam shook his head.

"No thanks, Dean, I can get my own dates."

"Yeah you can, but you don't." Dean muttered, Sam's gaze flickered to me and my hand reached down and grasped Dean's.

"So," I cleared my throat forcefully, "What did you find, Sam?"

Sam's eyes narrowed a fraction and I swear I saw his jaw clench a little, but nevertheless he grabbed the local newspaper on the table he'd been sat on and showed us an article, "Here, Mark and Ann Telesca of New Paltz in New York were both found dead in their own home a few days ago. Their throats were slit but there were no prints or murder weapons, all the doors and windows were locked from the inside." Sam paraphrased the article, he looked back up at Dean and I expectantly, to my surprise, Dean let go of my hand and walked over to the bar.

I frowned, "Dean!" I called to him, but he ignored me, "What the hell is he doing?" I asked Sam in irritation, not particularly wanting an answer. As soon as Dean got to the bar, I saw the two girls he was talking to earlier make a beeline for him, I rolled my eyes and slumped in my chair.

Sam took the chair next to me and opened his mouth, "Steph, -."

"Don't Sam." I cut him off in a sharp tone. I sat in a stony silence while Sam sat in an uncomfortable one, Dean finally came back with drinks for all of us, his expression relaxed, as if nothing had happened.

"Yeah Sam, I don't think this is one for us, it could just be a garden variety murder you know? Not our department." The older Winchester said as he sat down, sliding the two remaining drinks to Sam and I.

"No, Dad says different." Sam disagreed.

Dean frowned as he took a swig of his beer, "What do you mean?"

Sam pulled out John Winchester's journal and opened it on the most recently marked page, he lay the book down and showed us a map that had been cut out from a different book and stuck into this one, as I peered at the small printed lettering, I found the map to show the upstate area of New York. The younger Winchester's finger traced over the map until he found what he was looking for and tapped it, "Dad noted three murders in the same upstate New York area. The first on was here in 1912," Sam's finger moved to a different point of the page, "Second one right here in 1945, and the third in 1970 – the same M.O. as the Telescas. Their throats were all slit, their doors and windows all locked from the inside. Now, so much time had passed between murders that nobody checked the pattern, except Dad, and he was keeping his eyes peeled for another one."

I smiled, looking back up to Sam, "And now we've got one."

"I guess it is worth checking out," Dean mused, "We can't pick this up till first thing tomorrow though, right?"

Sam nodded, putting the journal away, "Yeah."

Dean smirked, "Great," He reached over and put his arm around my shoulder, pulling me into him, "Come on, Steph, lets stay out to night, grab a couple of beers, head back to the motel..." He trailed off, letting his suggestion hang in the air. Part of me wanted to stay out – to act like I had no idea he'd cheated on me and I'd cheated on him. But then again, another part of me wanted to shrug his hand off and leave him with the two bimbos at the bar…

"Steph, you with us?" Sam waved his hand in front of my face and I blinked back into reality.

I gave the younger Winchester a genuine smile, "Yeah sure, I'll meet you at the bar, Dean." Dean nodded and walked off, leaving Sam and I alone. "You don't mind, do you, Sam?"

He broke out into a smile, as if what I'd said was a light joke, then he shook his head, "No, Steph, I don't mind at all."

I reached out and gently touched his palm lightly, before I stood up and unzipped my jacket, pulling it off to reveal the skintight protective tunic underneath. I put the jacket down and faltered, looking down at myself where Sam was staring, "What?"

Sam shook his head, his cheeks reddening, "Nothing, nothing, just, ah." He forced a cough and grabbed his beer tightly.

I rolled my eyes and grabbed my drink, "I'm not even gonna go into this," I scoffed, directing all my anger onto the younger Winchester, "Have a nice night Sam, try not to stare at my ass as I walk away now, won't you?" I turned and stalked away over to Dean, giving the two girls who were practically drooling over my boyfriend a fiery glare, yet the power surging in my veins had never felt colder.

T

I didn't exactly know what time Dean and I left the bar last night, but we didn't make it back to the motel, instead we took shelter from the cold in Dean's Impala. Well, more than just shelter, I guess… I woke with my head on Dean's bare chest, one of his hands was entangled in my hair and the other was curled across my lower back, his fingertips just touching the lightweight emergency blanket Dean had found in the trunk last night. I sighed tiredly and closed my eyes lazily; there wasn't anything in this world I wanted to get up for right now. When I felt the air shift lightly against my left palms I opened my eyes slowly, meeting Sam's as he stared at me through the passenger window we'd left open.

Sam didn't speak any words, not that any were needed in our silent exchange, I gazed at him and he stared back at me, without breaking eye contact, then I blinked and he reached in and held one of his fingers on the horn button for a long, drawn out second.

Dean jerked awake and I gritted my teeth as the loud noise reverted through my hangover-induced headache, "Sam!" Dean snapped angrily as I pulled the blanket up over us, "What the hell, man? Get outta here!"

"Ok, ok! I'll go grab the bags from the motel, then we can leave town." Sam held his hands up and walked off.

Dean shook his head and looked at me apologetically, "I'm sorry about Sam, he can be a pretty annoying younger brother sometimes." I shrugged in response, handing Dean his shirt with a quick peck on his cheek before focussing on my own clothes.

T

After Sam had come back we went straight to the Telesca Residence to sweep it with EMF, despite Sam's research last night on the house saying that nothing out of the ordinary had ever happened there, but the weird thing was: it had been emptied out. Completely, there was nothing left behind, not even a spare chair or something. So, Sam had suggested an idea to where the Telesca furnishings had gone, and I had to say – it wasn't a bad one.

We pulled into the car park and were immediately met with a line of expensive cars, we parked next to one with a private number plate that read 'The Krip', the car pulled to a stop and we all jumped out, I opted to leave my jacket in the car and stretched in the sunlight. "Uh guys, I'm pretty sure this is a private auction." I frowned, eyeing the pristine cars that filled the car park.

Dean pulled a face, "Nah, we'll be fine."

Sam looked around uneasily, whilst I rolled my eyes, "Yeah, we're gonna fit right in, Dean." I drawled sarcastically as we made our way to the entrance. We opened the doors and were immediately greeted with the sound of a classical violin and the sight of women in expensive cocktail dressed and men donned in sharp suits. Everyone seemed to belong to a pack, walking around the comfortably heated warehouse and commenting on the displays.

"Consignment auctions. Estate sales," Dean scoffed and pulled a face, "Looks like a garage sale for Wasps if you ask me."

One of the various waiters carrying silver platters of champagne flutes and canapés passed by us and Dean swiped some, holding it up in thanks to the waiter who stared at him in confusion, his eyes narrowing as he looked at our clothes. I put my hand on Dean's shoulder as the waiter continued to stare, "Sorry, man. I'm afraid he's taken." I smiled sarcastically, making the waiter blush, performing a great impression of a goldfish for us.

"Can I help you three at all?" A man cleared his throat behind us, making the three of us turn.

Dean glanced at the man's immaculate, probably tailor fitted tuxedo before popping the food into his mouth, "I'd like some champagne, please." He requested, impersonating a posh tone.

I couldn't help but hide my smirk whilst Sam elbowed Dean, "He's not a waiter." He said sharply, the older Winchester raised an eyebrow whilst Sam smiled apologetically and held his hand out to the man, "I'm Sam Conners," He introduced himself smoothly, the man merely stared at Sam coldly, not reaching to greet his polite handshake, I coughed awkwardly and Sam gestured to us, "This is my brother Dean, and our business partner Stephanie. We're art dealers, with Conners and Jones Limited." His lie came easily, and I smiled as convincingly and politely as I could.

"You three, are… art dealers." The man repeated sceptically.

I smiled and nodded, assuming the role of a pompous and bored business lady, "That's right."

Tuxedo man's eyes flickered to me, but then focussed on Sam, "I'm Daniel Blake, this is my auction house," He drew himself up imperiously, "This is a private showing, and I don't recall seeing you three anywhere on the guest list."

Dean sighed irritatedly, "We're there, Chuckles, you just need to take another look." The waiter from earlier passed by again with champagne, pointedly avoiding eye contact with Dean. Mr Blake narrowed his eyes at Dean whilst he quickly took a glass, "Oh, finally." The older Winchester sighed gratefully whilst the waiter stopped and cocked his head as he studied Dean.

I sighed loudly and frowned at the waiter, "Oh God, you're not coming onto him are you?"

The poor waiter took off in the opposite direction, almost colliding with an elderly lady wearing gleaming pearls in the process. It took every bit of willpower not to smirk, my facial muscles battling to keep composure, whilst Dean sniffed the glass to hide his grin and walked away.

Sam grabbed my arm tightly and followed his brother hastily, dragging me with him. Dean headed over to the food whilst I grappled with Sam's steel grip on my forearm, "Sam, you're hurting me. Sam let go of me." I hissed as Sam led us through the aisles of displays away from the crowd, we stopped in front of a dark, gothic-style painting. Sam finally let go and I shoved him lightly, "What is your problem?" I glared, rubbing my arm.

Sam matched my glare as he towered over me, "What is yours?" He shot back, "Are you and Dean trying to get us kicked out of here?"

I narrowed my eyes and smirked, "Do you… care about what these people think about us?" I teased, no longer feeling the anger between us.

Sam pulled a face, "What? No! What I care about is why they've decided to display such an ugly piece of artwork." He gestured to the painting in front of us and I giggled as we turned our attention to it.

"It does look like something that should have been torn up a long time ago." I mused, whilst Sam shoved me lightly.

"That's right." The younger Winchester impersonated my tone earlier and we both burst out laughing.

"A fine example of American Primitive, wouldn't you say?" A well enunciated voice sounded behind us, Sam and I turned to see a young woman approaching us, her hair was dark like mine, and she was dressed in a sleek black dress that showed her figure perfectly, her hair in a classy style, with eyes almost as dark as mine – and completely focussed on Sam.

Our laughter died as the girl stood with us and observed the painting, Sam cleared his throat next to me, "Well, I'd say it's more Grant Wood than Grandma Moses," He announced, and I shot him an impressed glance, but his attention was no longer on me, "But you knew that, you just wanted to see if I did."

"If I did." No 'we'? Wow, one girl in a pretty dress and you're at the back of the line, Val. I think we're losing our touch.

The girl smiled, showing perfect white teeth, "Guilty," She admitted, "And clumsy. I apologise, I'm Sarah Blake." She introduced herself politely, her eyes not leaving Sam's.

"I'm Sam, and this is my..." He paused and the girl finally looked at me, her smile stayed on her face but her jaw clenched slightly as she looked at me, "My, uh, friend, Stephanie."

I could see it in her face, it was amazing what one small word could do to affect someone, it was like the word friend was an opening door for this Sarah Blake, her smile widening as she looked at me almost triumphantly. "Stephanie, that's a… lovely outfit you have there. Tailor made?"

I tilted my head a little and arched an eyebrow coolly, "What else?" You turned to Sam and smiled warmly, touching his arm lightly, my fingers brushing his skin with the barest of touches, "I'm going to find Dean."

"No need." Dean's voice behind us made me retract my hand, and I flashed Dean a grin as he approached.

"Dean, this is, um, I'm sorry what was your name again?" I frowned at the girl, feigning polite confusion. Although we both knew it was anything but.

You're such a bitch sometimes, you know that?

Her smile tightened a little, "It's Sarah. Sarah Blake," She turned to the older Winchester, "Dean, can we get you some more mini-quiche?" She offered, that teasing smile still on her face.

Dean smirked and shook his head, "I'm, ah, good thanks."

"So," Sarah turned back to Sam, "Can I help you with something?"

Sam nodded, "Yeah, actually. What can you tell us about the Telesca estate?"

Miss Blake shrugged her slender shoulders, "The whole thing's pretty grisly if you ask me – selling their things this soon. But Dad's right about one thing; sensationalism brings out the crowds," She smiled and glanced at a passing couple, "Even the rich ones."

"Is it possible to see the provenances?" Sam pressed.

"I'm afraid there isn't any chance of that." I had to suppress an eye roll as we all turned to be met with David Blake. Again.

I raised an eyebrow challengingly and smiled, "And why's that?"

Mr Blake held my stare evenly, "Because you're not on the guest list, and I think it's time for you to leave."

Dean glanced at Sam and I, "Well," He resumed his posh tone mockingly, "We don't have to be told twice."

"Apparently you do." The man replied tightly.

"Okay," Sam surrendered for us, "It's alright. We don't want any trouble. We'll go." I gave Sarah a wry grin as the three of us walked off, leaving the Father and Daughter with the ugly painting.

T

We checked into the first motel we could find, but as we left the reception, Dean lingered behind. "Dean?" I called back to him, leaving Sam's side and approaching him in concern.

"You guys check into the room, I'm just gonna make a quick run for some stuff downtown." He said, reaching into his jacket office and getting his keys.

"Ok, but don't be too long." You smiled and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"I won't." He promised.

Once Dean had driven off you and Sam moved onwards to the motel room, "So, you," I smiled at Sam, "What was with the 'Grant Wood, Grandma Moses'move you pulled earlier?"

Sam laughed, shaking his head in embarrassment, "Art History course. It's great for meeting girls."

I rolled my eyes, "Yeah, I bet."

The younger Winchester laughed again as he unlocked the door, we both paused in the doorway as we took in the outrageous 70's disco décor that dominated every inch of the room; it was like Saturday Night Fever had been the drive of the idiot who designed the room. "Huh." Sam muttered.

"Oh my god." I said simultaneously and Sam and I exchanged a look, sharing an amused expression. Sam dumped our bags whilst I zipped open Dean's and pulled out one of his vodka bottles, smirking as I went to the brightly coloured mini-fridge and opened it, "Awesome." You exclaimed as you pulled out a forgotten six-pack of cola cans.

Sam smirked and shook his head at me, "We're not here two minutes and you wanna get drunk?"

I tilted my head, "Problem?"

"No, no. It's just… I get what Dean sees in you, you know?" Sam shrugged.

"Do you wanna get drunk or not?"

Sam rolled his eyes and zipped open one of his own bags, pulling out a pack of beer bottles, "You really thought I didn't have my own stash either?"

T

"Ok, ok," I giggled as Sam poured me another drink, "What was providence? Is it a secret code that only Art History kids have?"

Sam shook his head and let out a laugh as he gave me my drink, "It's called provenance, Smart-ass," He corrected whilst he popped open another beer for himself, "And Art History isn't like Calculus – we were cool."

I nodded, unconvinced, "Uh-huh, you guys were the cool ones."

"Shut up, what were you like in school then, huh?" Sam challenged.

I smiled into my glass as I took a long drink, "You tell me – I stopped going years ago." I admitted.

Sam frowned, his smile becoming confused, "You did not." He said in disbelief.

I nodded seriously, "Oh yeah, stopped going when I was eleven."

The younger Winchester lowered his beer, his mouth falling open, "But how? You're -." He stopped himself and I tilted my head.

"I'm..?"

Sam shrugged, "You're just so… smart and witty, definitely not the drop-out type."

I nodded, taking another sip of my drink to hide the pink flush in my cheeks, "Ah, that's because I didn't."

"But you just said-."

"I may not have dropped out, but I haven't set foot in school since I was eleven." I continued, enjoying the look of utter befuddlement on Sam's face.

A grin slowly formed on Sam's face, "How did you do it?" I opened my mouth to pose a question, but Sam read my mind, "You're a weird magical sorcerer who was magically transported here – I'm guessing magic had something to do with it."

"Touché," I laughed, "It was a spell, I drew a symbol on my mirror and said an incantation, touched the mirror and animated my reflection."

"Wait. You animated your reflection?"

"Yep, it literally meant I could be in two places at once, that one went to school and was Stephanie Edgley, and I took on a knew name and became Valkyrie Cain." I smiled, enjoying Sam's expression.

He was quiet for a few seconds, "You know you never told us your real last names before."

I shrugged, "You or Dean never asked."

"Did that offend you?" Sam asked before taking another swig of his beer.

I scoffed and shook my head, "Nope, it offends me that you called me weird two minutes ago."

The younger Winchester chuckled, "What? You are a little out of the ordinary."

"Says the guy who has psychic visions?" I teased.

"Well, I couldn't let you have all the fun, us crazies gotta stick together."

"Cheers to that." Sam and I clinked glasses.

The motel door suddenly opened and Dean stepped in slowly, a confused smirk on his face as he took in the empty beer bottles and half empty vodka bottle that surrounded the sofa where Sam and I sat. "What's up, guys?" Dean said slowly, "I see you guys found a good way to pass the time."

"Dean," His brother greeted, "Where've you been?"

"I had to go get some stuff, and it got me thinking," Dean closed the door and put the grocery bags on the table in the cramped kitchenette, "We're not gonna get anything out of Chuckles for this case, but that Sarah chick..." Dean trailed off and gave Sam a suggestive expression.

Sam shook his head and rolled his eyes, "Yeah, maybe I can get her to write is all down on a cocktail napkin." He drawled.

Dean shrugged, "Probably, it wasn't me she was checking out." I tried not to feel to disheartened by Dean's comment.

"So, in other words, you want me to use her to get information." Sam muttered, finishing the last of his beer and setting it down on the coffee table.

Dean gave a sympathetic expression, "Sometimes you've just gotta take one for the team. Call her."

"I don't even have her number, Dean!" Sam protested whilst I left him on the sofa going to the vodka bottle and preparing myself another drink, the bottle shook a little in my hands as I poured it into my plastic retro glass.

"I know, that's why I took a detour and picked up Miss Blake's contact details." Dean replied in a smug tone, "So you, Sammy, are gonna take this, call her up and take her to dinner." He handed his brother a post it note, "And wear a suit." He added, the younger Winchester sighed and got up from the sofa, grabbing his bag and heading to the bathroom.

I was dully aware of Dean standing behind me, allowing him to take the vodka bottle from my hands, "You know, I was counting on us getting drunk tonight, but at the same time." Dean smiled as he held up the vodka bottle.

"Well, if you'd have come back early, you could've joined the party." I shrugged.

"Ah better late than never, am I right?" Dean smirked, his eyebrow raising in the most boyish way, which I loved.

"Did I ever tell you how attractive you are?" I asked, poking him in the chest.

Dean smiled, "You may have mentioned it once or twice, yeah."

"So what stuff did you go out and buy?" I asked, glancing at the grocery bags.

The older Winchester shrugged, "Ahh, it's nothing. Doesn't matter anymore."

"Oh come on, Dean. You obviously wanted to get something, what did you get?" I rolled my eyes and walked over to the bags. Dean having the advantage of sobriety, dashed over and grabbed the bags before I could inspect them at all.

"It's nothing special, Steph. I just thought I'd get some milk and coffee stuff for tomorrow." Dean defended, holding the bags away from me.

"Right and you bought so much milk you filled two bags, come on Dean, just show me!" I was giggling now, enjoying the smile on Dean's face as he teased me with the bags.

Sam suddenly stepped out of the bathroom dressed in a crisp suit, my mouth dropped open at the sight of him.

Holy shit.

I ran a hand through my hair, whilst frowning in confusion: what's wrong with me? I loved Dean!

No, you used to love Dean, Val.

I rolled my eyes at that stupid reminder, desperately trying to deny it, which was becoming more difficult recently.

"Dean can I borrow the car keys?" Sam asked his brother, bringing me out of my daze.

Dean threw him the keys, "Yeah, sure. Do you need any cash?"

Sam smiled, "No I've got enough. I'll see you two later." He caught my eyes shyly as he opened the door, looking as if he wanted to tell me something, I offered him a small, sad smile and then he was gone.

"So," I said, trying to rise above the conflicting feelings collecting in my chest, "What did you buy?"

"Steph I didn't get anything important, trust me," Dean shrugged again, "Why don't you just take a nap and sober up a little?" He suggested.

"Stop being difficult, Winchester." I smirked, stepping closer to him and laying a delicate hand flat on his chest, somehow the room settled even further into a deadly silence as I focused on Dean and Dean alone. I played with the buttons of his shirt, unbuttoning a few before moving up to his neck, his breathing hitched as I kissed along his jaw, making me smile against his skin.

Once he was relaxed I leaned away and snatched one of the bags, giggling with glee as I dodged away from him. "Steph come on, that was no fair!" Dean protested.

You jumped and ran over the bed to the other side of it, ignoring his objections as I looked in the back, my smile fading a little and I frowned up at Dean. "Why did you get this?" I asked, holding up some basic food ingredients. Dean stayed silent, and I emptied the bag out onto the bed, "Dean we can get takeaway in town somewhere, why'd you buy the stuff to make it?" I pressed, beginning to sober up.

"I wanted to make you a meal, you said in the car earlier that you wanted Chinese food, so I thought I'd make us some." Dean answered, giving me a guilty look.

I paused, beginning to piece it all together; how he'd gone out to get stuff, then come back home with a reason to get Sam out for the night… "Oh, Dean," I pulled a face at his guilty expression, "Please don't look at me like that."

"I can't help it! I'm sorry."

I laughed a little forcefully, "You're sorry? How do you think I feel, Dean? You had a lovely night planned for the both of us and I decided to get drunk with Sam!"

"You wouldn't have if I didn't go behind your back! And I'm sorry!" Dean answered, it suddenly occurred to me we were both yelling, I let his words sink in, and I knew he wasn't talking about tonight, he was talking about going behind my back with Cassie, which made me feel all the more worse because last week I fucked his brother.

It suddenly hit me that I was hurting, I was in pain after what Dean had done, and I hadn't even bothered to properly address my stand point on my relationship with Dean – which was foolish. What's more, I hadn't considered the tidal wave of guilt that had been threatening me for a while, how had I coped? How had I come to terms with the fact that I was playing Dean and Sam?

Oh right, I hadn't.

"Wow." I breathed, my knees going weak as the realisation washed over me.

"Steph? What's wrong?" Dean frowned in concern.

"Nothing," I sighed and glanced at my duffel on one of the beds, "You know what? I'm gonna, uh, I'm gonna go shower and freshen up."

T

I exited the bathroom in a cloud of steam and a white towel secured around my body, "Hey Dean have you seen my..." I trailed off when I saw Sam with Dean by the small dining table. "Sorry, I didn't think you were back yet." I mumbled, running a hand through my still dripping hair self consciously.

Sam shrugged whilst Dean threw me his duffel bag, "If it's your toothbrush you're looking for, you left it in mine last night."

I smiled warmly at Dean, ignoring Sam's gaze as it burned into me, "Thanks Dean." I said, my heart pounding a little as I retreated back to the bathroom. I threw down the bag half heartedly and slumped down cross-legged on the floor, trying to make sense of the conflicting emotions that swirled within me.

What Dean and I had wasn't easy, we had our fights and bickerings, the ups and downs of a real relationship, but he told me he loved me, and I was certain I was falling for him too… but now? I didn't want to let it all go, but he'd been with Cassie. And broken my fucking heart for it.

Sam… was different. From what I could tell he'd been deeply in love with Jessica, and sometimes I could hear him calling out for her in his sleep. I think he didn't think he could ever find someone else like her, and I knew it wasn't me. I was a mess, and I didn't want to ruin what I had with Dean because of some silly infatuation with his younger brother.

It's not a 'silly' infatuation though, is it? You can't lie to me, Valkyrie.

Was that a warning? I took a deep breath and grabbed the duffel, pulling out my toiletries bag from it and zipping it open, then I stood up, leaving my musings with the towel pooled on the floor.

T

I emerged from the bathroom in my newly washed tunic and trousers, Sam had taken off his black suit jacket and loosened his tie, he'd unbuttoned a few of the buttons on his shirt too. Something within me faltered; Sam wasn't going to make this easy at all. "So Sarah just handed the, uh, provenances over to you?" Dean asked his brother while I joined him on the couch, his arm loped around me and pulled me closer to him, an image of him and Cassie getting together flashed in my mind and I silently beat it back with a big stick – more of bludgeoned it frantically, really.

"Yeah, we went back to her place and I got a copy of the papers." Sam waved a file as he shrugged simply, causing Dean to frown whilst I kept a straight face.

"And?" The older Winchester nodded expectantly.

I found myself silently bracing for Sam's answer, whilst the younger Winchester glanced at me and gave another shrug, "And nothing. That's it, I left."

Dean cleared his throat pointedly, "You didn't her or do any..." He paused, smirking as he tried to be delicate, "Special favours or anything like that?"

Sam rolled his eyes, "Dean, would you mind getting your mind out of the gutter please?"

The older Winchester laughed at his brother's shyness, missing the look Sam and I shared for a brief, fleeting moment. "You know when this whole thing's done, we could stick around for a little bit." Dean suggested once he'd calmed down.

His younger brother looked confused, "Why?"

"So you can take her out again. It's obvious you're into her, Sammy." Dean grinned teasingly.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." Sam muttered, focusing on the open file before him, Dean reached over and turned up the song on the radio.

"I go crazy, crazy, baby I go crazy. You turn it on..." I sang along with chorus and grinned at Dean, he rolled his eyes at me.

"Aerosmith. Really?" He tried to look unamused but a smirk slowly grew on his face.

I hit his arm lightly, "Says the guy who has this song on tape in his car. Come on Dean, you love this song."

"No, you love this song, that's why you bought it at that record store last week." Dean accused.

I shrugged and stood up from the sofa, grabbing the motel TV remote and using it as a microphone as the chorus came up again, "Yeah you drive me – crazy, crazy, crazy for you baby. What can I – Dean!" I shrieked as he suddenly had me over his shoulder, the controller forgotten on the floor as he spun me around. "Dean put me down!" I giggled as the song continued playing in the background.

"Guys, I think I've got something here." Sam interjected in a deadpan tone, I grinned and bit my lip as Dean turned to face his brother, whilst I wriggled out of Dean's hold.

Dean snickered as he stepped over me to get to Sam, I reached out and grabbed his ankle pulling him to the floor, "Steph!" He exclaimed as I smirked at him and jumped up, leaving him alone on the floor as I joined Sam at the table.

Sam handed me the open file and I scanned through it, "Portrait of Isaiah Merchant's family, painted in 1910." I read aloud, frowning as I recognised the painting in the book, "Isn't this the ugly painting we were laughing at?" Sam nodded in confirmation as I looked up, "What's it got to to with the case?"

Sam slid John Winchester's journal over to me, "Now compare the names of the owners in this." He said.

My eyes narrowed as they fell on the page and tried to decipher the hastily scrawled notes on the page, whilst Dean came up behind me, "First purchased in 1912, Peter Simms… Peter Simms murdered in 1912. Same thing in 1945," I looked up at Sam, "And the same thing in 1970." I finished, closing the book and tossing it back down onto the table, "Then what happened?"

Sam sat back in his chair, "Then stored, until it was donated to a charity auction last month. Where the Telascas bought it."

I nodded slowly; the Telascas, who were found slashed in their apartment. "So what, the painting is haunted?" I suggested.

"Or cursed." Sam nodded.

"Either way, it's toast." Dean grinned, happy that this was looking to be an easy hunt.

"So what, we go to the auction house tomorrow and somehow destroy the painting without being caught?" Sam asked.

"Or, we could just break in tonight and take it." The older Winchester shrugged.

I nodded, comfortable with doing either option, whilst Sam's brow furrowed, "Dean, sure we can disarm the security precautions, but there's no way we're gonna get over that fence."

"Well, that is the advantage of having a sorcerer around." Dean smirked, his hand wrapping around my waist.

T

The night life in the town was thriving, the air surrounding local clubs and bars was practically cracking with the anticipation of a promising, alcohol fuelled night. Yet nothing but silence filled the darkness surrounding the street near the auction house. The three of us parked a few blocks away from the target and walked towards through the back alleys towards the rear of the auction house to avoid rousing suspicion – though we needn't have bothered, everyone seemed to be staying at home or out filling the local nightspots.

"So how are we gonna do this?" Sam asked in a hushed tone as we rounded a corner and headed towards the dark, steely silhouette of the barbed barrier that surrounded the auction house.

"We get to the fence, Steph gets us all over, and then you disarm the alarm." Dean answered.

I nodded, "Simplicity in itself."

We reached the fence and I slipped my fingers through the tough wire mesh as the three of us looked up at how tall the spiked wall actually was. "That's what, eight meters at least?" Sam murmured.

"Can we make that Steph?" Dean glanced at me, his hand going to mine on the fence and grasping it gently in the dark.

I tried to be reassuring, "Of course we can. Who's first?"

The boys glanced at eachother, Dean's silhouette shrugged and held out his hand; one flat and the other balled into a fist. Sam sighed and mirrored the gesture, "On three," Dean said in a determined tone, "One, two..." He trailed off as they both played a what seemed to be a very intense round of rock, paper, scissors. "Dammit!" Dean growled as he came up with scissors, whilst Sam had rock.

"Looks like you're going first, Dean." I could hear the smirk in Sam's voice.

"No man, best of three." Dean argued.

I raised an eyebrow, "What's wrong Dean, you scared of going first?" I teased.

The older Winchester sighed and rubbed the back of his head, "Alright, fine." He relented, glancing up at fence.

I smiled, holding out my hands and feeling the air beneath my palms, focusing on how the spaces connected and gauging how much pressure I should push in order to get Dean clear over the fence. "Trust me."

Without waiting for his response I pushed, and Dean shot up and I frowned as I tried to follow his figure in the dark, he cleared the fence and I raised my hands and manipulated the air currents to slow his descent. I caught his worried expression in the dark and smirked, Dean Winchester faced the super creepy, super powerful Shtriga last week without blinking, but against a basic fence vault he was scared. As soon as Dean's feet touched the ground safely he exhaled and nodded, "Ok, you're up Sammy." He grinned at us through the wire mesh, his earlier concern seemingly vanished.

T

We had Sam, wearing cheap disposable gloves, disable the security alarm whilst Dean and I looked out for anyone in case we were seen. "Ok, that should do it. Go ahead." Sam finally broke the silence, putting his tools back in his pocket.

"Awesome." Dean smirked in the warm glow of the flame in my hand and bent down to carefully pick the door lock.

"You know, you'd think that they'd at least have someone out here guarding the priceless art and relics inside." I pointed out, my tone low and amused.

"Yeah well," Dean shot me a smirk over his shoulder, "Just be thankful they haven't, so we can finish the job and go home."

The lock finally clicked and Dean opened the door, "Finally," Sam sighed mockingly, waving his hand in front of his brother's face, "Hey, can you see ok, Dean? 'Cause you were going a little slow with the door there." He grinned.

Dean batted his younger brother's hand away, "Shut up."

I rolled my eyes, "Come on, I wanna get to bed before the sun comes up guys." I stepped past them and held the flame in one hand before clicking my fingers in the other, getting more light in the room so I could see better. "Let's split up," I suggested to the boys as they followed me inside, "You take downstairs and I'll have a look upstairs, see if I can find it tucked away or something."

T

It was nice to have my own few minutes away from the Winchesters for the first time in what seemed like forever, it meant I didn't have to entertain their small talk or supply suggestions on where to get breakfast tomorrow, or who would run the credit card scam tomorrow. I walked through the aisles of the upstairs storage slowly, making sure I didn't miss anything as I let my mind wander.

I knew one thing I had to do; I had to clear everything up with Dean. At the moment, we were walking on eggshells around eachother, and despite the fact that I wanted to get mad at him – vent all my frustrations over Sam and Darquesse to him for Cassie, I knew I couldn't. It just wasn't fair. I came to the end of the aisle and stopped at a beautifully carved, ornate wooden mirror. I stared into space as I mulled things over, the worst scenario would be confessing to Dean about everything I'd done with Sam, and most likely ending up on the side of the road, or I could just push it all down; all my recent feelings for the younger Winchester and my hurt about Cassie and just ignore it all. Even Darquesse.

I leant against the mirror, careful not to touch the glass and leave marks on it. I could do that, couldn't I? Ignoring it all and pretending everything was ok until I'd convinced myself it was the clear and easier option, rather than face Dean in a stubborn and explosively inevitable argument. I knew it was selfish, sure, to just put my choices before Deans, but it was better for everyone in the long run, right?

Don't count on it, Val.

I pushed myself off of the mirror and faced it, taking deep breaths. Ignore her, just ignore her and she'll go away. I left my problems with that mirror and did one last check before going back downstairs to look for the boys. I found them in one of the aisles that Sam and I were standing in yesterday, Sam was holding the painting steady whilst Dean cut the painting from its frame with his switch-blade, his torch held between his teeth as he carefully prised the painting off without tearing it. "Alright," Sam said in a low voice, "Now lets just get back to the car, drive off and get rid of the painting." He slid the frame back onto one of the shelves and looked up as I approached.

"That was easier than I thought it would be." I grinned, whilst Dean rolled up the painting.

"Right?" Dean's smile matched my own, "Now let's get outta here."

We slipped out quietly, jogging to the fence and only pausing so I could get the boys over quickly and safely, once we were clear we rushed to the car and sped off into the night, finding the nearest side road on the free way and pulling up out of sight. Once we were certain we were alone, the three of us stood quietly whilst Dean threw the painting onto the dirt, I held a flame cupped in both hands to keep me warm, whilst Dean fiddled with his lighter. "You know, if you ask me? I think we're doing the art world a favour." I shrugged as Dean crouched down and lit up and down one of the sides of the art.

Sam yawned as the painting burned curled into itself on the dirt, "Right, I'm officially exhausted. Let's just get back and get some sleep before we hit the road again tomorrow."

Dean frowned up at him, "You don't wanna spend one more day here, you know, with Sarah?"

The younger Winchester shook his head, "No. It's not, ah, it's not gonna go anywhere with her."

"How do you know? I mean, maybe you should just give her a chance, you know?" I shrugged again.

Sam bored his eyes into mine, before he shook his head slowly, saying nothing.

T

The next morning I was sat cross-legged on the sofa with my morning coffee, browsing for cute dresses to surprise Dean with in the future, whilst Sam was busying himself with packing up his duffel bag waiting for Dean to get out the shower.

What future? The one where you pretend like Dean is the perfect boyfriend?

I cleared my throat and shifted in my seat, "Something wrong?" Sam asked, noticing my sudden discomfort.

I closed the laptop and sighed, putting it on the coffee table and finishing my coffee, "Nah I'm good."

"You sure, 'cause Dean takes forever in the shower, if you feel like talking we can-"

"I said I was good Sam," I smiled, rolling my eyes teasingly, "Come on, come sit and keep me company." I patted the seat next to me.

Sam grinned, "Hang on, I wanna finish packing these last few things."

I made a frustrated noise and turned around to face him, lounging over the back of the chair, "Come on Sam, why are you packing anyway? I thought we were staying here for another day."

The younger Winchester shook his head, "Well, we're not, Steph. I've found about three more cases two states over that we can do, plus Dean's got half a dozen voicemails on his phone with some leads on possible hunts."

Sam turned his back to me and continued packing his bag, I rolled my eyes and stood up from the couch, making my way over to him silently. I waited until I was right behind him before I tapped him delicately on the shoulder, he turned around and I enveloped him in a tight hug, holding onto him until he returned it. "I know you think that you and Sarah won't work, but you need to at least give it a chance." I murmured.

Sam's shaggy fringe brushed against my cheek as he shook his head, "There's no point," He confessed, "With our Dad M.I.A and everything that's been going on lately, Sarah's better off just staying away from me."

The two of us parted and I cocked an eyebrow as I gazed up at him, "Geez, could you be a little more broody for me? I didn't quite get my fix of self-tormented angst last night." I rolled my eyes and punched Sam on his shoulder, knowing it wouldn't hurt him.

The younger Winchester gave me the tiniest of grins and shoved me away from him, "Shut up." He muttered, whilst the bathroom door finally clicked open.

Dean emerged with a cloud of steam from where he'd probably used the last of the hot water, dressed in his usual jeans, combat boots and simple shirt with his Dad's leather jacket completing the ensemble. I found myself giving a little smirk as I eyed how undeniably attractive his hair was still drying from his shower, all unkempt and brushed aside carelessly. "We've got a problem, I can't find my wallet." Dean exclaimed quickly, his eyes brimming with concern.

Sam tilted his head whilst I shook my head, trust Dean to forget something as important as his wallet somewhere. "And how is that my problem?" Sam asked, his tone reflecting that special contemptuous mockery that all siblings reserved for eachother.

The older Winchester clicked his tongue impatiently, "Because I think I dropped it in the warehouse last night."

I groaned and ran a hand through my hair, "Dean!"

He held up his hands as he shrugged uselessly as I shot him an irritated look, whilst his younger brother gave him more of a horrified one, "Tell me you're joking." Sam asked, his tone somewhere between a frustrated sigh and tired whine.

Dean rolled his eyes, "No, I'm joking with you," His tone dripped with sarcasm as gave his younger brother a light shove, "It's got my prints, my ID – well, my fake IDs anyway. We've gotta get it before someone else finds it."

"Yep," I nodded, "I think I hate you."

T

The auction house was the last place Dean remembered having his wallet, so he insisted that it

would be somewhere in there. Of course, with our luck, there was another auction showing being held, luckily we slipped in quickly and kept to ourselves, searching around on the ground floor for where Dean could have dropped his wallet.

After several minutes Sam's impatience became vocal, "Honestly, how do you lose your wallet, Dean?" He hissed to his older brother as we finished another lap of the building.

"Hey guys!" A cheerful voice sounded behind us.

"Oh, fucking perfect." I muttered as I recognised the voice instantly, Dean shot me a warning look as we turned to face Sarah Blake.

"Sarah," Dean and shared a smirk at the bright smile Sam gave the girl, "Hey, how's it going?"

She frowned at the three of us, glancing around at the patrons, "What are you doing here?" She asked.

I shared a false smile with Sam as I widened my eyes slightly to signal to him to lie, "Ahh," Sam looked back at Sarah as he fumbled for an adequate answer, "We… we are, er, leaving town and, you know, we came to say goodbye."

Dean cleared his throat and brought his wallet out from his jacket pocket, "Oh Sam, I have that twenty dollars I owe you," He glanced at me with a nonchalant expression on his face, whilst I stared at him in disbelief, "I always forget, you know?" He smiled back at Sarah, whilst his brother narrowed his eyes at the cash in his hand, dumbfounded, "Here you go man, take it." Dean's knowing smile grew wider.

The younger Winchester's jaw clenched as he snatched the bill from Dean's hand, giving him a tight smile in return, Sarah's beaming smile stayed, but her eyebrows raised a little at the exchange, "Don't pay much attention to them, we were fighting this morning over the, ah, the shower," I lied easily to Sarah, "And Sam's just upset because Dean used all his conditioner," I gave Sam a cheeky look and leaned closer to Sarah, "He's really particular about his hair care." I whispered loudly.

Sarah's beam turned into an amused grin and she nodded, "Ok, I, er, I understand," She turned to Sam and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder, "Your hair looks fine Sam." She said, trying to keep her voice serious.

Sam let out a frustrated breath and glared at me, "Thanks for that."

I laughed and ruffled his shaggy tresses, "Just trying to preserve your ego, Sammy buddy."

Dean chuckled and looped his arm around my waist, "Ok, well we'll leave you two crazy kids alone. We've, ah, gotta go do that thing we were gonna do..." He trailed off and gave me a meaningful look and I smirked and nodded, looking back at Sam and Sarah.

"Oh yeah, we're gonna go fix the, um..." I raised my hands and made gestures as I tried to think of a plausible and polite excuse.

Dean snapped his fingers, "The clock! Yeah, the clock in our room stopped working, so… we're gonna go fix it." He nodded unconvincingly, then grabbed my arm and led me away, "Do you think they bought it?"

"Well," I stole a glance back and caught Sam and Sarah's bewildered expressions, "No, nope, not even a little." I shook my head quickly whilst Dean laughed as we reached the door.

T

Dean rolled off and settled next to me in the motel bed as I panted a little, getting my breath back, "You should do that thing more often." I smiled as he gave me a wry smirk and started planting soft kisses on my neck.

"Oh yeah?" He said as he moved down my neck.

I laughed lightly as I ran my hand through the older Winchesters' mussed up hair and gripped it lightly, moving his head up so I could kiss him ardently. The motel door suddenly opened and we broke away, Dean huffed in frustration as he looked at his younger brother, I stared at his embarrassed expression as he hesitated on what to do, thankful the sheets were covering us this time. "Dude, we talked about this, fuckin' knock next time, ok?" Dean snapped, but it was half-hearted.

"Sorry," Sam apologized in an uncharacteristically small voice, "But it's important – its about the painting."

I tilted my head, "The one we burned?"

The younger Winchester nodded, "Yeah, except it's in perfect condition. I saw it when I was with Sarah."

I rubbed at my left cheek tiredly, "Great. That's just great."

"Ok, ok, just give me and Steph like five minutes and we'll meet you by the car." Dean sighed.

T

Dean and I emerged from the hotel, our hands intertwined and laughing happily together in the sunlight, "'He's particular about his hair care'?" He quoted my mockery of Sam earlier and shook his head, "Where'd that even come f rom?"

"Don't tell me you haven't seen Sam look in the mirror to readjust his hair," I scoffed, "You know I have a feeling he stole my hairbrush?"

The older Winchester laughed and shook his head as we approached Sam, "Ah always one for hair care, my little brother."

"Who'd have guessed?" I grinned as we neared his brother.

Sam frowned, "Guessed what?" He asked.

I smiled up at him, "Oh, nothing."

The younger Winchester rolled his brown eyes, "Anyway, about the painting – I don't get it, I mean we burned the damn thing and suddenly it's in pristine condition?"

Dean rolled his eyes at his younger brother as he unlocked his beloved car and went to the drivers side, "Yeah, thank you, Captain Obvious," He drawled, "What we need to do is just figure out another way to get rid of it."

He got into the car and we all followed his lead, "And do we have any ideas on how we just might do that?" I asked as I strapped myself in.

"Alright well, um, in almost all of the lore about haunted paintings it's always the painting's subject that haunts them." Sam suggested as Dean started the engine.

"Awesome. So we just need to figure out everything there is to know about that creepy-ass family and that creepy-ass painting."

Sam nodded in agreement, "Look's like we're gonna have to start doing-"

I threw my head back against the headrest and groaned, "Please don't say it."

"-Research." The younger Winchester finished and I clicked my tongue in annoyance.

"Sam!" I pretended to whine, "I told you not say it!"

Dean laughed as he began to drive out of the motel car park, "Right, what were their names again?"

T

We couldn't find the nearest library so the three of us found us in a local second hand bookshop, where it was empty apart from us and the proprietor, an ageing man who had let himself go a little and was sporting a small rounded belly, hidden under a gaudy sweater-vest and slacks. "You said the Isaiah Merchant family, right?" The man asked as he approached us with a blue plastic tray with various newspaper clippings in it, I peered in and noted how old some of them were given their faded colour and ink.

Sam nodded whilst Dean flipped through an old book filled with information and pictures on every gun imaginable, I spotted something familiar and put my hand down on the page before Dean could go pass it. I opened the page properly and smiled sadly at the faded picture of an old 38. Smith and Wesson revolver, recognising it instantly. "I didn't think you'd be into guns when you have, uh-" Dean snapped his fingers like I did when I wanted to summon a flame.

I scoffed and snapped the book shut as memories of Skulduggery flooded my mind, "It would be lazy to rely on magic all the time, wouldn't it?" I muttered before brushing past him and joining Sam and the shop manager.

"So, the whole Merchant family was killed?" Sam asked the proprietor.

The older man nodded, "It seems this Isaiah slits his kids throats, then his wife, then himself. Now he was a barber by trade, used a straight razor to do it."

"Do you have any information on why he did it?" I asked.

"Well let's see here," The man paused as he studied the old newspaper clipping, "'People who knew him describe Isaiah as having a strn and harsh temperament… Controlled his family with an iron fist… Had a wife, uh, two sons and an adopted daughter… There were whispers that the wife was gonna take the kids and leave'," He glanced up at Sam and I as Dean finally came and joined us, "Which of course in that day and age was, well, you know. Um, so 'instead old man Isaiah, well he gave them all a shave." He grinned childishly and drew an imaginary line across his throat whilst inhaling sharply before he laughed good naturedly. Dean joined in with the old man until Sam shot him one of his looks - which were becoming a regular expression on the younger Winchester's face, Dean's laughing cut off abruptly and he cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Does it say what happened to the bodies?" The older Winchester asked.

The shop manager shrugged, "Just that they were all cremated."

"Is there anything else you can tell us about the family?" I pressed politely.

"Yeah, actually the family had a portrait painted, it's right here somewhere..." He began rummaging through the clippings and old articles until he found what he wanted, "Here it is." He held up the piece of paper that had a copy of the painting, and I recognised it as the one we burned.

"Uh-huh, could we get a copy of this please?" Sam asked.

The proprietor shrugged again, "Sure."

T

I grabbed the milk, the sugar and a spoon and took them over to where the boys were sat at the table in our motel room, three cups of hot coffees beside them as Sam stared thoughtfully at the copy of the portrait the shop manager had given us. "I'm telling you man, I'm sure of it. The painting at the auction house, the Dad is looking down. And the painting here? The Dad's looking out," He glanced up at us seriously, "The painting has changed, guys."

Dean smiled at me as he took the milk and poured a little into his coffee, "So you think that Daddy dearest is trapped in the painting and is handling out Columbian neckties like he did with his family?"

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

"Maybe if Isaiah's position has changed then maybe some other things in the painting have changed as well." I suggested, "It might give us some clues as to what's going on."

The younger Winchester smirked, "What, like a Da Vinci Code deal?"

I smiled; my Mum had began reading that book, but had given up and was trying to push Dad into reading it with her, but he'd argued that his co-workers didn't talk about books, and in fact they talked about 'manly macho stuff' like what fabric and design the tie they were wearing that day was.

Dean, however, gave his brother a blank look, "I don't, ah… I'm still waiting for the movie on that one," I laughed and Sam raised an eyebrow and sighed, "Anyway, we've gotta get back into that auction house and see that painting," He took another drink from his coffee, "Which is great for you, 'cause you get some more time to crush on your girlfriend." He shot his brother a suggestive look and I smiled at their antics.

Sam sighed again, more dramatically this time, "Dude, enough already."

Dean held up his hands defensively, "What?"

"'What'?" The younger Winchester repeated, "Ever since we got here, you've been trying to pimp me out to Sarah. Just back off, alright?" He snapped, his eyes fierce.

"Well you like her, don't you?" Dean pressed, his tone still teasing.

"Dean." I cautioned softly, giving him a look.

Sam ignored us both completely, instead he clenched his jaw and looked down, concentrating on his coffee as his cheeks turned unmistakeably pink. A clear answer to Dean's previous question, albeit a silent one.

"Alright, well you like her, and she clearly likes you. And you're both consenting adults..." Dean trailed off, keeping his tone light and suggestive.

Sam's gaze flickered to me and I looked away, only looking back once he let out a frustrated noise, "What's the point, Dean?" His tone was raised, almost at shouting volume, "We'll just leave. We always leave."

"Well I'm not talking about marriage here, Sam." Dean frowned.

The younger Winchester huffed, drumming his fingers on the table agitatedly, "You know what? I don't get it. Why do you even care if I hook up?"

I shrugged off my jacket and summoned a flame in my palm, playing with before turning my attention to the steam rising from my coffee cup, trying to see if I could manipulate it from gas back to water again whilst the boys continued to argue, "Because then maybe you wouldn't be so cranky all the time."

Sam stared at Dean for a long moment before he shook his head, "You're so lucky you have Steph. You don't know what it's like to be with someone and think about how what you have is only temporary-"

"Are you forgetting about Cassie?" Dean interjected.

The room fell silent and I froze, my hand half open facing the steam.

"Well," I said quietly, "I think that Sarah could be good for you, Sam. But this isn't because of the job is it?" I leaned over and rested my hand gently on his arm, "This is about Jessica, right?" Sam's eyes flickered to me, "I'm sorry that I never got to see that side of you with her, and I'm sorry that you and Dean never got to see the side of me before I got thrown here. But I've lost people, just like you, and I know what that's like," I paused as several names and faces popped into my mind, "I don't think there's no real way to really deal with… loss… but I would think that they would want you to be happy."

Sam stared at me, his eyes shining brightly before he nodded slowly.

"Yeah," Sam murmured, "I know she would, and you're right; part of this is about Jessica. But not the main part."

"So what's the main part about then, Sammy?" Dean asked curiously, but Sam shook his head, refusing to answer, "Fine," Dean sighed in defeat, "We've still gotta see that painting, which means you still gotta call Sarah, so..." He trailed off and slid Sam his phone.

The younger Winchester heaved a sigh and picked up the phone, he held it to his ear as the dial tone sounded faintly, "Do you two mind?" Sam frowned at us.

I got up and walked over to the kitchenette, jumping up on the counter and crossing my legs as Dean went and lay on the sofa with his arms crossed behind his head and his eyes closed.

"Sarah, hey," Sam cleared his throat awkwardly and I immediately paid attention to anything other than Sam, which happened to be the back label of the instant coffee mix, "It's Sam… Hey – hi… No I'm good, yeah, umm," Sam paused and ran his hand through his hair nervously, "What about you – how are you doing?"

Across the room, Dean had opened on eye and watched his younger brother in amusement as he stumbled for conversation, "Yeah good, good, ah, really good." Sam was nodding hurriedly as he repeated himself.

The older Winchester snickered, "Smooth."

"So, ah, so listen. Me, Dean and Steph were, uh, thinking that maybe we'd like to come back in and look at the painting again, I..." He paused as he spied Dean shaking his head and smiling to himself, "I think maybe we're interested in buying it," He said quickly, then took a breath to compose himself as Sarah spoke, "What?!" Sam's mouth dropped open.

I put the coffee jar down and hopped off the counter as Sam stood up from his chair, "What's she saying?" I whispered my question whilst Dean sighed and got up from the sofa.

"Well who'd you sell it to?" Sam asked, his tone stressed.

"Sam, what's going on?" Dean asked, holding up his hands curiously.

The younger Winchester rolled his eyes and turned away from us,"Sarah I need an address right now." He said urgently.

T

Dean's car hurled around a corner as we turned onto an uptown street, with expensive looking terraced houses standing imperiously before perfectly manicured lawns. "Ok this is the street." Sam said, his hand out as he counted the houses, "It's this one just coming up."

Dean nodded and halted the car, the sudden speed drop making everyone lurch forwards in their seats. Sarah was standing by her expensive looking car waiting for us as we hurried towards the new owner of the painting's house. "Sam what's happening?" Sarah asked as Dean and I ran past her.

"I told you, you shouldn't have come." Sam answered simply, trying to distance himself from her.

We reached the door and Dean knocked on it loudly, "Hello, anyone home?" We waited three seconds before Dean tried again.

"You said Evelyn might be in danger, what sort of danger?" Sarah pressed as she and Sam joined Dean and I at the door.

No one granted the girl an answer and Dean sighed, "I can't knock this sucker down, I've gotta pick it."

"There's no time, I can do it." I glanced at Sarah and rolled my eyes, finding Evelyn's life to be more important than protecting her from the truth. I snapped my palm out and the air rippled before the door snapped open violently, the bangs echoing through the house as Dean and I stepped into the hallway quickly.

"What the – Sam what was that?" We left a shocked Miss Blake in the doorway and ran through to the first door, cursing when we realised it was just a walk-in closet for coats and shoes.

"Damn rich people." I growled as we all rushed to get back into the hallway.

"What are you guys, burglars? And how the hell did Stephanie open the door like that?! Is she some kind of superhero?!" Sarah continued, her voice raising towards hysteria.

Despite the situation, I let out a laugh, "I wish it was that simple."

"Look, you really should wait in the car, Sarah. It's for your own good." Sam tried dismissing her again as we peered into an empty kitchen.

"The hell I will," Sarah argued stubbornly, "Evelyn's a friend."

"Evelyn?" I called as I tried a light switch.

Dean opened a door and stepped through, "Evelyn?" He tried as we all followed behind him. We'd found the living room, the black band on my finger immediately became cold as I stepped into the room, my eyes reeling and finding the painting that had been hung over the fireplace instantly. A figure was sat in the chair directly opposite it, my mouth went dry as I saw her shoulders weren't moving, meaning she wasn't breathing.

"Shit." I breathed, glancing at the boys and shaking my head at them.

Sarah, however, didn't get the message, she rushed over to the woman's corpse unwittingly. "Evelyn? It's Sarah, Sarah Blake, are you alright?" She asked carefully, reaching out and touching her shoulder.

Sam reached towards her quickly, "Sarah! Sarah don't!"

But it was too late, Sarah shook Evelyn's shoulder slightly and the corpse's head lolled back, her eyes wide and unblinking, finding Sarah's as her slashed throat opened wider. The girl jumped back and screamed in horror, "Oh my god! Oh my god!"

"Sam," The younger Winchester looked at me as Sarah continued to scream, "Get her out of here."

Sam nodded and wrapped his arm around Sarah comfortingly and herded her out the room.

I cleared my throat, "The painting's moved again." I said quietly, as if I was scared Isaiah could hear me.

"I know." Dean nodded, "Come on, let's get out of here. No one can know we were here." He held his hand out to me.

T

I finished my Jura and exhaled sharply as it burned it's way down my throat, the bar was quiet with the late hour and it was just the three of us sat in the corner quietly. Dean raised his own whiskey at me and offered me a small smile.

"So we failed." I sighed, reaching for the vodka and coke I'd also gotten.

"Yeah." Sam nodded, seemingly the most detached out of all of us.

"Do you think Sarah will do what we told her to do?" I wondered, playing with the coasters on the table.

Dean shrugged, "Guess we'll just have to wait and find out."

We sat in a tense silence for the next few minutes until the doors in the bar flung open and Sarah stormed in, once she spotted us she hesitated before approaching our table, where Sam stood up to greet her instantly. "Hey. Are you alright?"

Sarah huffed at Sam's question in annoyance, "No, actually, I just lied to the cops and told them I went to Evelyn's, alone -" Her eyes flashed to me, "- Somehow broke the front door down and found her like that."

I looked the girl right in the eyes and shrugged carelessly, whilst Dean paid attention to his drink and Sam nodded gratefully, "Thank you."

"Don't thank me," She shook her head angrily and held up her thumb and forefinger mere millimetres apart, "I'm this close to calling them back if you three don't tell me what the hell's going on. Who's killing these people? And how did she do that with the door earlier!"

"Would you believe I fell into a vat of experimental chemicals?" I drawled, standing up and rolling my eyes at her, brushing past her as I headed to the bathroom.

T

Dean's P.O.V

I smirked and shook my head as the bathroom door slammed shut, "Pay no attention to Steph, she's just angry we couldn't save Evelyn tonight."

"Does she need me to go talk to her or something?" Sarah asked, looking back at the bathroom.

"No." My voice echoed along with my brother's and we shared a faint smile.

"She, ah, she could rip your head off. Steph just needs a few minutes to herself from time to time." I smiled as I excused my girlfriend to Sarah.

Miss Blake nodded slowly, and then she sat down, "Can you just explain to me about earlier. Anything."

I drummed my fingers against the table, staying quiet so Sam could explain whatever to Sarah, knowing it would be better for her coming from my brother. "What do you want to know?" Sam asked carefully as he pulled up a chair.

"Well for starters, I'd like to know who's killing these people." Sarah said coldly.

My brother glanced at me and I raised my eyebrows, I knew what he was asking; whether we should reveal the supernatural world to the girl or not. I didn't offer my brother any indication, giving him complete control over the situation.

"What." Sam finally answered Sarah.

The girl frowned, "What?" She repeated, confused.

"It's not 'who'. It's what is killing these people." He corrected in a soft voice.

Sarah stared at my brother as if he was insane, I took a swig of my beer and winced at the look of how this was gonna go down.

Sam glanced at me and sighed, "Sarah, you saw that painting had moved."

The girl shook her head sharply, "No, I was… I was seeing things. It's impossible." She denied.

"It's also impossible how Steph opened the door like she did earlier," My brother nodded seriously at her, trying to keep her calm, "Look Sarah, I know this sounds crazy… but we think that the painting is haunted."

Sarah sniggered at his statement, but tears of disbelief welled up in her eyes, "You're joking." Her face whipped around to me to see if I was giving away some trick, but I shook my head slowly, "You're not joking," She sighed and looked away, "God, the guys I go out with..."

"Sarah, think about it," Sam leaned closer to her, "Evelyn, the Telesca's – they both had the painting. And there have been others before that. Wherever this thing goes people die, and me, Steph and my brother? We're just trying to stop it. And that's the truth." I smirked when I recognised the earnest, puppy dog look he was giving her, the look that had gotten Sam out of trouble countless times before. It never failed.

I watched as Miss Blake slowly faltered under Sam's gaze, she took a deep breath before she finally nodded, "Then I guess you'd better show me. I'm coming with you."

"No you're not," Steph announced her return as she grabbed her drink from the table and drank some of it, "You're going to get into your car and drive home, and after we finish this it's gonna be like all this never happened. It's just gonna be a story you're gonna tell your kids someday."

Sarah eyed Stephanie guardedly, and I found myself wondering what she'd do if she saw what else the Irish girl could do. After all, she'd only seen what the girl could do to a door, let alone the thing's we'd seen her do before. Nevertheless Sarah shook her head in disagreement to Steph, "That's ridiculous, I can't pretend like tonight never happened, I'm a part of this now." She glanced at Sam to help her case, but my brother shook his head.

"Steph's right. You should leave, this stuff can get dangerous and…" Sam looked down at his lap, "And I don't want you to get hurt." He muttered.

The girl looked away for a moment and when she looked back at Sam, her cheeks were tinged pink and a small smile was on her face, "Look," She said softly, "You guys are probably crazy, but if you're right about this then that means me and my Dad sold a painting that got these people killed," Steph caught my eyes and she shook her head, I knew what she was saying to me; don't let her do this, Dean. Unfortunately, Sarah caught the glance too, "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." She finished with a determined look at Steph.

Steph leaned down to her, a challenging look in her dark, dark eyes, "Oh really?"

Miss Blake nodded, "Really."

"Well then you're an idiot," The snap in Steph's voice made everyone at the table flinch, "This isn't fun and games, Sarah, this shit gets you killed. And frankly, we've got enough to deal with on our plates already, and I don't wanna be adding babysitting onto it." She said harshly.

"Knock it off, Steph," It was the first time I'd heard my brother really get angry towards her, and the scathing tone was one Sam didn't use lightly, "You wanted to try and scare her off, and it didn't work, Sarah's just trying to help."

I stared at the label on my beer bottle as an awkward silence settled around the table, I was in no way expecting Sam and Steph to cross their wires like this, seeing as the seemed to get along so well with eachtother. But here we all were, looking on as they stared eachother down, they were both very stubborn people, so having them argue seemed nightmarish, as I was beginning to learn.

Eventually Stephanie clenched her jaw and shook her head, "Fine. But if she gets herself killed in all this? It's on you, Winchester." There was no teasing playfulness in her eyes whenever she used our last names was nowhere to be found as she said it this time.

"Sarah, we'll be at Evelyn's house tomorrow to look at the painting, you can meet us there." Sam said in an unsettlingly quiet tone, his eyes not leaving Stephanie's.

T

Valkyrie's P.O.V

Sarah left quickly, silently bidding Dean a hasty goodbye as she hurried out the bar. Sam and I paid her no attention, both staring eachother down dangerously.

Eventually Dean broke the silence, "Guys come on, you shouldn't be fighting like this. We're all just tired, let's just get back to the motel and sort it out there." He said, desperately trying to diffuse the thick tension between Sam and I. Dean stood up from his chair and started tugging gently on my arm, "Come on, otherwise I swear I will leave you both here." He threatened.

With a heavy sigh, Sam stood up from his chair, using his height to tower over me before he finally broke our stare-down by storming towards the door.

T

The car journey back to the motel was held in stiff silence, Dean had turned the radio on and we had the first few chords of Can't You Hear Me Knocking by The Rolling Stones before Sam had shut it off. "I can't believe you spoke to Sarah like that!" Sam suddenly shouted, frustration edging his voice.

"I can't believe you let her get so involved in this!" I shouted back.

"She has a right to know, Steph."

"I'm trying to help her, Sam." I matched his tone mockingly.

The younger Winchester scoffed, "How? By treating her like a burden? Give me a break."

"If that's what it takes to save her life, then so be it." I shrugged.

Sam turned in his seat to face me, "How can you be so awful to her? She just wants to try and help."

"Because she wouldn't feel the need to try and help us if she wasn't so eager to suck your dick!" I seethed.

Dean slammed his foot on the break and everyone was thrown forward as the car screeched to a halt, "Alright that's enough, both of you!" Dean's shout was louder than everyone's, and it surrounded the car and made us fall silent. "Steph, Sarah is going to be there, helping us tomorrow whether you like it or not, so suck it up," Dean's gaze snapped to his brother's, "And you, you got what you wanted – Sarah is meeting us tomorrow and it's gonna be your job to make sure she doesn't come to the wrong end of a straight razor. So stop antagonizing eachother, for the love of God! Have I made myself clear?!" Dean's said, sounding as if he was scolding two children. In some sense, Sam and I both were, especially from the way we were both behaving.

The younger Winchester and I both mumbled a begrudging consensus to Dean, and he nodded, "Good, now apologise." He ordered.

There was a pause as we shared a glance with eachother in the dark, then I let out a sigh, "Sam, I'm sorry I was so horrible to Sarah. She's a nice girl, and she didn't deserve to be treated like that."

Sam nodded slowly, "And I'm sorry I was so angry at you, we're friends, and I shouldn't have disagreed with you so harshly."

Dean nodded thoughtfully at our apologies, satisfied with our responses. "Ok, awesome." He put the car into gear and resumed his casual speeding downtown to the motel, "Now I can sleep comfortably knowing you two won't try and kill eachother."

T

The next day we met Sarah outside Evelyn's house fairly late in the afternoon, ducking under the police tape surrounding the porch and waiting whilst Sam crouched and picked the lock on the new door the police had installed in an effort to keep people out. Dean's hand was intertwined with mine, and I had offered Sarah a small smile in an effort to try and dispel the awkwardness between us. "Err, isn't this a crime scene?" Sarah asked in a worried tone as she eyed what Sam was doing.

My smile grew a little wider as I accompanied it with a shrug, "You've already lied to the cops, we figured what's another infraction?"

Miss Blake nodded, her demeanour more at ease as she noticed my kinder attitude towards her today. The lock gave a tell-tale click and Sam tried the doorknob, once inside we made a beeline to the living room, Sarah and I stood back whilst the boys lifted the painting down from the wall and placed it on the coffee table we had cleared. "And you guys aren't the slightest bit worried it's..." She trailed off and shot me a doubtful glance, "Gonna kill us?"

I shrugged, "Nah, it seems to do its thing at night, plus that's why I made the boys take it off the wall – give us a fighting chance to get out the door safely." Sarah gave me a worried look, and I laughed, "Kidding, Sarah, we're going on the 'only attacks at night' theory."

"Oh," Sarah offered me a chuckle, but it sounded forced, "Right."

I rolled my eyes as Dean brought out the copy of the original painting from the bookshop and compared it with the actual painting, "Hey, check it out. The razor, it's closed in this one, but it's open in that one." He pointed to where the razor was in each painting, and we all nodded in agreement at his observation.

"So what does that mean exactly?" Miss Blake asked.

"Well, if the spirit's changing aspects of the painting, it means it's doing so for a reason." Dean explained.

I frowned as I noticed something else, "And what about this, the painting in the painting." I pointed to the small golden frame oiled onto the canvas behind Isaiah Merchant.

"What is that, some kind of crypt?" Dean frowned as he tilted his head to get a closer look.

Sam grabbed the glass ashtray we had put on the floor and used it as a makeshift magnifying glass, "Either that or it's a mausoleum. What's that writing say on it?"

"It says Merchant." Sarah offered, and we all nodded as it made some sort of sense. A clue inside a clue, really.

"We've gotta find this crypt and check it out." Sam said as he gripped the frame of the painting and lifted it from the table, putting it back on the wall carefully.

Dean clicked his tongue, "Next stop graveyard I guess."

T

The four of us walked through the rows of gravestones, careful not to miss any in case we found any belonging to the name 'Merchant'. As we finished another row Dean huffed in annoyance, "This is the third boneyard we've checked. I think this ghost is jerking us around."

"Awesome." I rolled my eyes.

A little way behind us Sam and Sarah walked together, both lost deep in their conversation, "So this is what you three do for a living?"

"Not exactly. We don't get paid." Sam admitted.

Sarah scoffed and put her hands into her jacket pockets, "Well, Mazel Tov."

"Hey, over there." Dean pointed up the hill after the graveyard. There, silhouetted against the sky, stood a small, square building, similar to the one from the painting.

I sighed, "Ugh, more walking? That's not even in the damn cemetery." I complained.

T

The doors to the small crypt broke on impact of hitting the wall from the sudden air force I'd manipulated, revealing a mass of cobwebs and clouds of century-old dust. Sam and Sarah entered first, whilst Dean and I savoured the fresh air outisde for a few more moments. "Hey Steph, can you give us a light?" Sam's voice echoed around the room to my ears.

I entered the room and blinked a few times, adjusting to the sudden gloom before I clicked my fingers and summoned a flame, Sarah gasped, "Oh my God? How are you doing that?"

I gave her a shrug, "Magic. You didn't think all I did was blast open door, did you?" I turned the light on the back wall, revealing four dust covered urns sat equally spaced apart in front of four square glass fronted boxes, there was a fifth box, but no urn sat before it like the others.

Sarah and I peered into one of the cases curiously, my eyes widened as I saw a child's doll sat in the case, it's body sat stiff with it's face positioned so it looked out back at you. Beside me, Sarah shuddered, "Ok, that right there? Is one of the creepiest thing I've ever seen."

Sam came over and I stood back and returned to where Dean was, "It was a sort of tradition at the time," The younger Winchester explained, "Whenever a child died sometimes they'd preserve the kid's favourite toy in a glass case, put it next to the headstone, or in this case, inside the family crypt." A silence settled as Sam's explanation hang in the air, the sudden wind blowing in the open entrance didn't help.

Ugh, I hate clichés, don't you?

"Hey, has anyone noticed anything strange here?" Dean spoke up.

"Er, where do I start?" Sarah smirked.

"No, that's not what I meant. Check out the urns." He pointed to the four of them.

Sam tilted his head, "Huh. There are only four."

"Yeah, Mum and the three kids, Daddy dearest isn't here." Dean nodded.

I frowned and glanced at the older Winchester, "So where is he?"

T

A fan whirred over Dean and I as we sat hunched over the only working computer in the library, searching into the county death certificates to try and find out about Isaiah's death and what happened to his body. "Tell me again why we're the ones stuck doing this when Sam and Sarah get to wait outside in the fresh air?" I moaned.

"Because I thought they could use some time alone together." Dean answered.

I glanced at him and sent him a doubtful look, arching an eyebrow as I waited for the real reason, "I, er, I lost rock, paper, scissors to Sam again." He admitted.

I sighed and shook my head, "You know with your track record on that game, I don't think I want you playing with my side in the balance anymore, ok?"

Dean frowned and lightly shoved me, "Glad to know you're confidence in me is still strong."

I laughed and kissed his cheek gently, "Anytime."

Dean scrolled down the names under 'Merchant' until I held up my hand, "Wait, wait, wait. Go back up." Dean scrolled up slowly until I pointed to the name we wanted, "Here we go, Isaiah Merchant..." I trailed off as we both leaned closer and read the file.

"Awesome, so he was just buried in a pine box pauper style? Sounds easy enough." I smiled after I finished reading.

The older Winchester nodded in agreement, "Yeah, it doesn't sound too bad actually."

I stood up from the dusty chair as Dean worked on turning the computer off, "We'd better head outside and tell the other two."

Dean glanced out the window and smirked, "Or not."

I followed his gaze and saw Sam and Sarah stood outside talking, they were stood close, closer than friends would care to stand anyway, and seemed happily engrossed in whatever conversation they were having.

I nudged Dean, "Hey, five dollars says they make out." I challenged.

Dean shot me a look, "You seriously wanna bet on whether my brother trades saliva with some chick?"

I screwed up my face in disgust, "Gross!" I laughed, "… Ten dollars?"

"Ten bucks? Done." Dean nodded and I rolled my eyes in amusement.

T

After we deemed it safe, Dean and I headed outside to join Sam and Sarah. Dean, ever the older brother, popped up annoyingly between them with a huge smirk plastered on his features, "Am I interrupting something?" He asked, obviously knowing the answer.

"No." Sam denied quickly.

"Not at all." Sarah shook her head, her answer milliseconds after the younger Winchesters'.

I raised an eyebrow as I glanced at the two of them, "Sure he wasn't." I teased, aiming it more towards Sam.

"So," Sam cleared his throat, "What did you two find?"

I shrugged, "Cliffnotes? The relatives of the family were so ashamed of Isaiah that they didn't want him interred with the rest of the family, gave him a poor man's funeral and buried him in a box."

The younger Winchester nodded, "So there are bones to burn?"

Dean smiled, "There are bones to burn." He confirmed.

"Tell me you two found out where."

T

We wasted little time going straight back to the cemetery as the moon crept out and joined the stars, we found the grave, marked under a false name and started digging quickly and quietly whilst Sarah acted as a lookout for anyone who happened to be in a graveyard at night. I noticed Sarah shivering in the cold and elbowed Sam slyly, he glanced at me and I motioned for him to jump out the hole and go join her. He nodded and mouthed a Thank You before he climbed out the grave, shrugging off his jacket and giving it to her.

"You guys seem to be uncomfortably comfortable with this." Sarah observed.

"Well, ah, this isn't exactly the first grave we've dug," Sam explained, "Still think I'm a catch?" He teased.

Sarah laughed, all the while Dean and I concentrated on shovelling the dirt, wishing we could anywhere but where we were now. The only good thing that came out of being forced to listen to Sam and Sarah flirt was the motivation it provided for digging at record speed, and soon enough Dean's shovel fell on something hard and hollow.

"Hey, I think I've got something." Dean called, interrupting the two lovebirds.

"Thank fuck." I muttered under my breath, earning I secret grin from Dean as he cracked open the coffin lid, revealing a long dead pile of bones. "Grab me the salt and gasoline, please Sarah?" I asked, throwing the shovel by Sam's feet.

I poured the salt whilst Dean doused with the gasoline, then we both climbed out the hole, making sure we were on the opposite side to Sam and Sarah. I clicked my fingers and conjured a flame, preparing to throw the fireball onto the remains when Dean held out his hand, stopping me. He cleared his throat, "You've been a real pain in the ass Isaiah. And you're portrait scene choices are terrible." He nodded for me to light it up ad I rolled my eyes.

"I can't believe you just talked tough to a dead body." I murmured to him as we watched the remains burn in the dark.

T

Evelyn's house was our final stop of the job, and Sam was eager to get it finished. He jumped out the car as soon as Dean pulled up, "Keep the motor running." He told Dean before starting towards the house.

"Wait, I thought the painting was harmless now?" Sarah frowned from where she stood next to her car.

"Better safe than sorry," Sam shrugged, "We're gonna grab it and then burn the sucker. For real this time."

"Hey Sam, do you need one of us to go with you at all..?" I let the question hang in the air, hoping that Sarah would volunteer herself.

Dean caught my eyes and smirked, "You know, that's a great idea, Steph. Why don't you go with him?" He suggested, putting me in the spotlight.

I narrowed my eyes. I knew what he was doing; he was trying to win the bet – and playing dirty to do it. "Well I was uh, thinking that, ah..." Sam whipped round and shot me a scorching look, I glanced at Sarah and forced a smile, "Nothing." I sighed, getting out the car.

"Sarah, wait here with Dean please." Sam asked the girl as we walked past her towards the house.

I glanced back at the car to see Dean looking through his box of cassette tapes, soon enough Make a Bet by Foo Fighters was blaring out of the speakers, with Dean grinning at me. "What a dick." I muttered as we walked up the porch steps.

"What's with the music?" Sam asked as we entered the house.

I shook my head, "Just a little joke me and Dean have going."

The younger Winchester scoffed, "Figures."

We entered the living room and I hit Sam's arm lightly, noticing something, "Err, Sam?"

"Huh?"

I pointed to the painting on the wall, "The painting, the little girl's gone."

Sam frowned, "Shit. And the razor."

The front door in the hallway echoed as it slammed shut and I whirled, air brushing against my palm and my ring turning to ice. Sticking to the classic horror movie cliché of course, a beautiful ornate glass lamp on one of the coffee tables suddenly smashed to the floor, shattering before our feet as a little girl's laughter filled the air.

Sam and I looked at eachother, "Door?" I suggested hurriedly.

The younger Winchester nodded, then we bolted back to the hallway and ran to the door, Sam yanked on the handle. The door stayed fixed in it's place, and we heard desperate shoving from the other side.

"Dean! Is that you?" Sam called.

"Sammy?" Dean's muffled reply came laced with concern, "You alright? Tell me you two slammed the front door and locked it."

"Nope," I glanced around the hallway behind us, "We think it's the little girl."

The older Winchester paused, "Girl? What girl?"

"The girl in the painting, maybe it was her all along." Sam suggested.

"Wasn't the Dad looking down at her? Maybe he was trying to warn us." Dean agreed.

I sighed, "Look, let's just speculate later ok? Dean stand back, I'm gonna blast this door down." I waited a few seconds before I snapped my palms out, the air rushed towards it and I expected it to be blown off, like the other night. Instead, the door stood proudly and I glared at it, "What the fuck?" I hissed in frustration.

"What!? What's going on?" Dean shouted.

"Nothing genius, the stupid door isn't doing it's thing!" I snapped, kicking it hard.

"Maybe the ghost is only protecting it from this side, Dean try and knock it down." Sam suggested.

"Ok sure, let me just grab my battering ram." Dean drawled.

"God damnit Dean! The damn thing is coming!" Sam growled.

"Well, you two are just gonna have to hold it off until I figure something out." The older Winchester replied.

I rolled my eyes, "Oh yeah, I'll just run out and grab our stuff from the car."

"Guys I swear to God!" Sam snapped, halting our bickering, "Dean, go with Sarah and fix this. You," Sam grabbed my hand, "Come with me, we'll go find some salt and iron."

We ran into the kitchen and began rummaging in the cupboards for some salt, "What kind of house doesn't have salt in it?" Sam sighed as a few precious seconds drifted away. The girl's laughter filled the room again, but it sounded much more malicious this time.

I glanced around warily for the girl before I looked back at Sam, "Look there's no time — screw the salt, we'll just get some iron."

We ran into the living room when Sam's phone started ringing, "Uh, Dean, give us a sec, don't go anywhere," He put his phone in his pocket and looked at me, "Safest bet would be in the chair, most seats have a metal structure, could be our lucky day."

I laughed, "Yeah, cause our day's been so great."

Sam managed a small grin before I turned my attention to the expensive leather chairs, wasting no time in seizing the shadows and using them to slash the backs open. The living room doors suddenly slammed shut, causing me to stand slowly and move closer to where Sam was. An awful gale suddenly started inside the room, and I struggled to tie my hair up as various papers flew everywhere, the air suddenly shifted and I turned in it's direction, elbowing Sam as my ring burned icily on my finger.

There she stood; a little girl, only a few years older than Alice, with one half of her hair in a perfect schoolgirl plait and the other half wild and dishevelled. She was dragging her doll along the floor behind her, her small, pale hand clutched onto the poor doll's foot. Her other hand was a completely different story, the razor was in her other hand and clearly too big for her, but she held it with such a threatening confidence that it became almost unnerving.

Sam's arm came up in behind me as we backed away, giving us more room as the girl advanced, her footsteps uneven and almost inconsistent in pace length as she came towards us. "God that's so wrong." I muttered as I sidestepped out of Sam's protective arm smoothly and walked forward to meet the ghost.

"Steph don't!" The younger Winchester shouted as I tilted my head, sizing up the opponent before me.

In one swift step forward I swept my hand out, the shadows gathered and turned sharp as they flew towards the girl, slicing her shoulder and forearm. The ghost let out an inhuman shriek as the shadows dissipated into nothing, no blood fell to the floor - because of course why would it? Her eyes raised to me, shining with an impressive rage as she glared at me. With no warning but the rush of air under my palms, I was thrown back with a spectacular force, so strong I collided with the back wall and slid painfully to the floor with a grown.

"Um, ouch?" I muttered as Sam ran to me.

"Guess I was right." Sam said as he offered me a hand.

I frowned up at him, "About what?"

"You're as dumb and reckless as Dean." He shrugged with his answer.

I laughed shortly, "Is anyone on the same level as Dean?"

Sam grinned, but it died as he eyed something behind me, "Maybe..."

I turned and followed his gaze, a smile of my own appearing as I saw what he'd noticed; the implements next to the fireplace. "Reckon these are iron?" I smirked as I grabbed two and handed one to the younger Winchester.

A hiss behind us made us whirl, Sam having the brains to swing at the same time, the poker went through the girl but did something else – took her with it. When Sam lowered his weapon the ghost had disappeared, and he nodded in satisfaction, "We found a weapon."

"We found a weapon." I agreed, hefting the poker in a sure two handed grip.

My phone started buzzing and I answered it quickly, "Dean." I greeted, my eyes wandering over the room as I checked for the girl.

"Steph, you guys ok?" Dean asked worriedly as I fumbled to put the device on speaker-phone.

I nodded, "Yeah we're fine, for now."

"Any idea on how we're gonna waste her?" He asked.

Sam sighed, "I don't know, she was already cremated, so there's nothing left to burn."

"Then how the hell's she still around?" Dean asked, sounding frustrated.

"There must be something else." I suggested with a shrug.

A muffled voice sounded on Dean's line, and we strained to hear it over the howling wind, "Wait, wait, we used to handle antique dolls at the auction."

I rolled my eyes, "Well whilst that is unbelievably fascinating, Sarah, I don't see how it could help us out here."

Sam nudged me and sent me a warning look, "Back then they used to make the dolls in the kids' image, I mean every feature, and they would use the kid's real hair." Sarah expained.

"Human hair?" Sam echoed, then he looked at me with bright eyes, "Human remains!"

"Yeah it's gross," I nodded in agreement, "Why does that help?"

"Human remains, they're the same as bones, you can salt and burn them and get the same results." Sam explained to me quickly, glancing around the room as he did so.

"It's the creepy doll we saw in the Mausoleum!" Dean realised, his excitement evident over the phone.

"Awesome, go get it done." Sam shut the phone off and gave it back to me, where it was put safely in my jacket pocket. "Right, we'll take one side of the room, if you see the girl just swing."

"Actually I was thinking of just standing still and letting her run me through with the razor." I rolled my eyes at the younger Winchester.

He scoffed, "You think you could be serious for one second?" Sam muttered as he walked over to cover one door, whilst I took the other side where the other door was.

I turned around to give him an answer, but instead gestured in a panicked warning, "Sam look out!" I yelled as the air shifted wildly, the bookcase beside him suddenly creaked and came crashing down onto him, giving a dusty groan in process whilst Sam moaned in pain beneath it's crushing weight. I raced over to him and crouched by him, "Just hang on, Sam." I assured him and began to lift the bookcase off of him, grunting with exertion as I felt it lift off the floor.

"Steph," Sam managed with a groan, "Behind you."

I looked around, still trying to lift up the bookcase, and came face to face with the creepy ghost girl's cold, unblinking stare. The girl slashed with the razor, forcing me to abandon the bookcase with Sam and roll out the way of it, when I looked back up my blood turn to ice. "Where'd she go?" I yelled, glancing around the room.

My hair was suddenly yanked back and I cried out sharply, my hands going up and blindly grappling with the little girl's cold dead hand, which held my hair in a vice grip. In the corner of my eye I saw it – the long, sharp blade glinted wickedly as the girl raised it; preparing to slash it across my exposed throat.

The blade began it's swift descent just as Sam yelled in protest and barrelled into me, his body covered mine protectively and his eyes squeezed shut as he prepared for the girl's deliverance with the blade. Over Sam's shoulder, however, the girl was shrieking horrifically as she suddenly burnt up in a lazy flame, rearing back as she smoked up into the painting, "Well that was a little anticlimactic." I muttered.

Sam laughed, "You're an idiot, you know that?"

"Says the guy who got dog-piled by a bookcase." I shot back playfully, hitting his shoulder lightly.

My phone suddenly started ringing and Sam cleared his throat and got up off of me, "Hello?" I answered as I stood up.

"Steph, are you two ok?" Dean's concerned tone echoed around the speaker.

"Yeah, not bad." I sighed, suddenly tired. Across the room, Sam shared my expression, looking how I felt.

"Thank God," Dean sighed in relief, "Just sit tight, me and Sarah are on our way, ok?"

"Ok," I nodded, "See you soon." I shut the phone off and walked over to the younger Winchester and enveloped him into an exhausted embrace.

Sam laughed as he hugged me back, "What's this for?"

"We're safe," I replied softly, "And we're alive, and I'm happy for it."

T

The next morning the three of us met up with Sarah at the auction house so we could say our goodbyes before we left, or rather, so Sam could say his goodbyes…

Sarah stood in a simple grey tee and blue jeans, her hair was left down and she had a coffee cup in her right hand, her face lit up with her dazzling smile when she spotted Sam and us approaching. "You came!"

Sam returned her smile, "Yeah, we did."

Dean held some papers he'd printed out earlier this morning, "This was archived in the county records. The Merchant's adopted their daughter, Melanie. She was up for adoption because her real family was murdered in their beds."

Sarah's smile faded and her eyes widened, "She killed them?"

I nodded, "Yep. It's a great cover, I mean, who'd ever suspect a sweet little girl? So after she came into the Merchant family she slaughters Isaiah and his wife and son, then kills herself. Isaiah takes the blame and his spirit's been trying to warn people ever since."

"That's why the painting kept changing." Sam finished the story as an employee came over holding up the Merchant portrait.

"Uh Miss Blake, where's this one go?" He asked.

"Take it out back and burn it." Sarah replied. The man stared at her in confusion, not sure if she was making a joke or not, "I'm serious," She smiled and the employee nodded, "Thank you!" She called after him. "So," Sarah turned back to the three of us, "Any explanation as to why the girl did all that?"

The younger Winchester offered her a shrug, "Some people are just born tortured. When they die, their spirits remain just as dark."

Dean's eyes narrowed a fraction, "Maybe. I don't really care. It's over, we move on."

"Ahh," Sarah glanced at Dean and I before her eyes moved back to Sam, "I guess this means you're leaving."

The younger Winchester looked down at his shoes for a brief moment before he turned his gaze to bore into mine.

Long seconds passed before I finally caught on to what he wanted, "Oh! Oh, um, Dean and I need to go be somewhere… again. I'll see you Sarah." I bid goodbye hurriedly and forced a smile as I grabbed Dean's hand, but he made no move to leave. Instead, he stood there a little awkwardly for a few more seconds before he nodded, seemingly to himself, and allowed me to half-drag him away. As we neared the car I sighed, "Ok, what's wrong?"

"It's just - I'm the one that burned the doll and destroyed the spirit, but don't thank me or anything." Dean grumbled to me, making me smile.

When we got to the car I leant up and kissed Dean passionately, my hand curling through his hair, "Thank you for destroying the spirit." I said once we parted.

Dean smiled knowingly down at me, "Why do I suddenly get the feeling you want something from me?"

"Nothing." I replied innocently.

One, Two, Three, Fo-

"Although there is one thing." I smiled sweetly.

"There it is." Dean smirked.

"I'm a good driver, Dean, please please please can I just drive it to the next town or something?" I asked in a careful tone.

The older Winchester grinned and shook his head, "No, no way."

I sagged against him, "But Dean!" I protested with a whine.

"You can keep saying my name all you want, I'm not letting you drive the car, Steph." Dean shrugged.

I heaved a sigh just as the door to the auction house opened and Sam appeared, "Alright here we go, prepare to lose ten dollars." I smirked as Dean and I both watched them in anticipation.

But instead of the goodbye kiss Sam and Sarah had been building up to, the door shut again and Sam started to approach the car. Dean shook his head and fished in his pocket for his keys, "You can pay me later, Steph." He said as he unlocked the car.

"Dammit." I muttered as we both got into the car, turning around to look back at the auction house and my jaw dropping. Sam and Sarah were stood in the doorway, sharing one of the most ardent kisses I'd ever seen, Dean followed my gaze and smiled.

"That's my boy." He chuckled proudly and I grinned smugly.

"You can pay me later, Dean."