The Family Business [Supernatural] {1}

19.3 Truth

  It was morning, Dean was sitting at the bar with the laptop, Sam was pacing around the room and I was sitting on one of the beds.

Last night, Sarah was completely freaking out and we convinced her to lie. Suddenly, there was a knock on the door, making us all to look at it. Sam went over to the door and opened it. "Hey," He said but Sarah stormed past him into the room.

"You all right?" He asked as he closed the door. She turned to him, "No, actually, I just lied to the cops and told them I went to Evelyn's, alone, and found her like that." Dean looked at me and smirked while Sam and I were relieved.

"Hey, thanks," I said. She turned to me, "Don't thank me." She looked back at Sam, "I'm about to call them right back if you don't tell me what the hell's going on." She looked at all of us, "Who's killing these people?"

Sam looked at Dean over his shoulder then looked at me before back at Sarah, "What," He corrected. "What?" She asked. "It's not 'who'. It's 'what' is killing those people," He replied but she looked at him like he was insane.

"Sarah, you saw that painting move," I said gently. She gave a small chuckle and turned her back at us, "No . . . no I was . . . I was seeing things. It's impossible." She turned back to us.

"Yeah well, welcome to our world," Dean said. "Sarah, I know this sounds crazy . . . but we think that that painting is haunted," Sam said. She snickered but with tears in her eyes before looking back at us, "You're joking." We stared at her and her face fell, "You're not joking. God, the guys I go out with."

"Sarah, think about it. Evelyn, the Telesca's, they both had the painting. And there have been others before that. Wherever this thing goes people die. And we're just trying to stop it. And that's the truth," Sam explained.

She looked at him, "Then I guess you'd better show me. I'm coming with you," She said. "What? No. Sarah no, you should just go home," Sam said. "This stuff can get dangerous and . . . and I don't want you to get hurt."

"Look, you guys are probably crazy, but if you're right about this? Well me and my Dad sold that painting that mighta got these people killed. Look I'm not saying I'm not scared because I am scared as hell but . . . I'm not going to run and hide either," Sarah said and walked to the door. She opened the front door and turned to us, "So are we going or what?" With that she walked out.

Dean and I looked at each other and started to smirk. We looked at our brother as I stood up and walked over to Dean. "Sam?" Dean said. He looked at him and then at me. I pointed at the door, "Marry that girl, I want her as my Sister-In-Law."

...................

We went back to Evelyn's house. It was taped off with the yellow crime tape but we just ducked under it and walked up the porch stairs.

I started to pick the lock. "Ahhh . . . isn't this a crime scene?" Sarah asked. "You've already lied to the cops. What's another infraction?" Dean asked. "Done," I said as Dean pulled out his pocket knife and slicked the tape on the door.

We walked inside and walked to the living room. Sam carefully lifted the painting off the wall and placed it on the couch, then he started examining it.

"Aren't you worried that it's . . . gonna kill us?" Sarah asked after a moment. "Nah, it seems to do it's thing at night. I think we're all right in the daylight," Sam said as Dean pulled out the piece of the paper with the picture on it and he compared them. "Guys, check it out. The razor." He turned the picture to us, "It's closed in this one." I took the paper as he pointed at the painting, "But it's open in that one."

"What are you guys looking for?" Sarah asked as Sam and I studied the paper and the painting. "Well if the spirit's changing aspects of the painting then it's doing so for a reason," Dean explained.

"Hey, hey, look at this. The painting in the painting," Sam said, pointing at the painting. We all looked and saw a different image to the one we had.

"Looks like a crypt, or a mausoleum or something," Dean said. I frowned as I saw something writing on the top of the building but it was too hard to make out.

I looked around, grabbing a thick glass ashtray and used it as a magnifying glass. "Merchant," I read and then looked up at my brothers.

...................

After a little while, Dean and I walked in front of Sam and Sarah as we made our way through the graveyard, "This is the third boneyard we've checked," I said. "I think this ghost is jerking us around," Dean added.

I sighed as I looked around. "Over there," Dean said and we all looked up to see the mausoleum. "It's about time," I said and he smirked.

We all walked up to it and Dean broke the lock. We entered, pushing aside the cobwebs that blocked the doorway. There was a number of name plates as well as four urns in front of little glass fronted boxes.

Sarah looked into one of the cases at a doll, "Okay, that right there -- is the creepiest things I've ever seen," She said. "It was a . . . sort of tradition at the time. Whenever a child died sometimes they'd preserve the kid's favorite toy in a glass case, put it next to the headstone or crypt," I explained.

Suddenly a wind blow in. "Notice anything strange here?" Dean asked. "Ah . . . where do I start?" Sarah joked, making Sam to smile a little. "No, that's not what I mean. Look at the urns," Dean said.

"Yeah. There are only four," Sam said. "Yeah, Mom and the three kids. Daddy dearest isn't here," Dean said. "So where is he?" I asked, looking at my brothers.