1.19 Provenance

INT. LOUNGE ROOM - NIGHT
The camera pans over an old painting of an historical family - a mother, a young girl, a father looking disapproving at the girl, and two boys - Mark Telesca is adjusting the frame of the painting. The camera pauses on the open razor on the table in the painting.
Mark: Okay, right about there. I think that's it.
Ann Telesca is giggling.
Ann: I can't believe we actually bought this thing.
A young couple in formal attire are in their lounge room. She sighs. Mark walks back to stand with his wife Ann to admire the painting.
Mark: There's a reason charity auctions have an open bar.
She is staring at it.
Ann: Don't you think... I don't know, it's kinda... creepy?
He fondles her back and pulls down the zipper of her dress, as he looks at the painting.
Mark: It's okay, I'll keep you safe.
Ann giggles.
Ann: Maybe you're the one I oughta be scared of?
They kiss, as she moans slightly.
Ann: Let's go upstairs.
Mark: Gimme two minutes to lock up.
She kisses him lingeringly, moaning.
Mark: Make that one minute.
He pinches her behind, she squeals, slaps him, and heads upstairs, glancing back once. Mark watches her until she's out of sight, turning the light off. The eyes of the father in the painting follow her, then his head turns to watch Mark lock up the side door. A squeaky door opens. Mark looks around, then turns off the light.

INT. UPSTAIRS HALLWAY - NIGHT
Ann turns off the hallway light, having changed into something sexy and grabbed a candle.

INT. BEDROOM - NIGHT
She walks into the bedroom, places the candle on the side table, then starts to strip out of her lingerie jacket.

INT. LOUNGE ROOM - NIGHT
Mark locks up the front door, before keying in the code.

INT. STAIRWAY - NIGHT
The camera is slowly moving up the stairs, with heavy footsteps and breathing.
Ann: (from upstairs) If you don't hurry up,

INT. BEDROOM - NIGHT
Ann is sitting in bed, with covers pulled up.
Ann: I'm gonna start without you!

INT. LOUNGE ROOM - NIGHT
Mark walks past the painting, where the razor is no longer on the table. The camera zooms in to show the empty spot.

INT. BEDROOM - NIGHT
She smiles, raising her arm seductively. The door creaks open, and a shadow appears in the bedroom doorway. A gust of wind blows out her bedside candle.

INT. STAIRWAY - NIGHT
Mark moves up the stairs, undoing his trousers.

INT. BEDROOM - NIGHT
He enters the darkened room.
Mark: Babe, get the lights. I can't see a thing.
He throws his shirt aside on the window seat and kneels on the bed. There is a squishing noise.
Mark: You spill somethin'?
He leans to turn on the bedside lamp. His hand is dripping with blood.
Mark: Ann?
She is lying on the bed covered in blood, eyes open and staring.
Mark: Ann? ANN!! Ah!! Ah!
He falls backwards onto the floor, knocking over the lamp while he is freaking out. He keeps staring at her, until a shadow appears over him. He turns to look and begins screaming.

"Night Time" by Steve Carlson Band began to plays at the Bar. The camera pans down from the ceiling, across the band playing. There is a crowd.

Music:

I know you said I got a nasty reputation

Brandy (off camera): -ven. Four, Two, Zero.
Dean and a young woman lean close together at the bar. Dean is keying into his phone.

Music:

People talkin' all over town

Dean: Seven, Four, Two, Zero. All right, you're in there.
Brandy: Good.
Dean: Perfect.

PROVENANCE

Music:

I know I can't resist any of you temptations

Dean: So is that Brandy with a 'y' or an 'i'?
Sam sits at a table strewn with papers.

Credit:

Starring JARED PADALECKI

Music:

I just want to lay you down, down, down

Sam picks up a Hudson Valley Beacon newspaper with the headings "PROPOSED DEVELOPMENT PLAN CREATES A POLITICAL STAMPEDE" "COUPLE'S THROATS SLASHED IN OWN HOME." Dean laughs at something Brandy said.

Music:

Oh the nighttime is the right time

Sam gestures to Dean, who gives him a 'wait' gesture.

Music:

I said the nighttime is always the right time

Sam glances at the newspaper before gesturing again impatiently. Dean's smile drops.

Music:

It's when I want to come around Got a lot of people told me

Dean: All right, listen, I gotta go. Hold that thought, I'll be right back, okay?

Music:

Boy you're better off to leave it alone

He approaches Sam, holding two beers.

Credit:

JENSEN ACKLES

Music:

But something deep inside

Sam: All right, so I think I got something.

Credit:

Guest Starring TAYLOR COLE (Sarah Blake)

Dean glances back at the bar.

Music:

Keeps bringing me back home

Dean: Oh yeah, me too. I think we need to take a little shore leave,

Credit:

JAY BRAZEAU (Proprietor)

Dean: just a little bit. What do you think, huh? I'm so in the door with this one. Come on.

Music:

'Cause when I am back home, where I'm known

Dean looks back at the bar and the women.

Music:

Rollin' through time like a rollin' stone

Sam: So what are we today Dean? Are we... rock stars? We army rangers?
Dean faces Sam.

Music:

Kicked back six pack at my side

Dean: Reality TV scouts, looking for people with
Sam starts to laugh, which causes Dean to laugh and smile too, as his head swings back towards the bar again.

Credit:

Producer PETER JOHNSON

Dean: special skills. I mean hey,
Dean shrugs, focusing on Sam. He picks up a beer to drink.

Music:

Groovin' with my friends all through the night

Dean: it's not that far off, right? By the way, she's got a friend over there. Probably hook you up. What do you think?

Music:

Oh the nighttime is the right time

Sam: Dean, ah... no thanks, I can get my own dates.

Music:

I said the nighttime is always the right time

Dean: Yeah, you can, but you don't.
Sam looks up sharply at Dean.
Sam: What is that supposed to mean?

Music:

Its when I want to come around

Dean: Nothin'. What do ya got?

Music:

Nighttime Right time

Sam: Mark and Ann Telesca of New Paltz, New York were both found dead in their home, just a few days ago.

Music:

I said the nighttime Right time

Dean is distracted, continuing to check out the women in the bar.
Sam: Throats were slit. There were no prints,

Credit:

Supervising Producer PHIL SGRICCIA

Sam: no murder weapons, all - Dean.

Music:

Nighttime Right time

Dean's attention comes back to Sam.
Sam: No prints, no murder weapons,

Credit:

Co-Executive Producer JOHN SHIBAN

Sam: all doors and window were locked from the inside.
Dean is drinking his beer.

Music:

Nighttime Right time

Dean: Could just be a garden variety murder you know. Not our department.
Sam raises his finger in objection.

Music:

Nighttime Right time

Sam: No. Dad says different.
Dean: What do you mean?
Sam spins the journal around and shows Dean the map of New York. He points at notes Dad made.

Music:

Nighttime Right time

Sam: Look, Dad noted three murders in the same area of upstate New York. First one, uh, right here in 1912, second one in 19...45, and the third in 1970. The same M.O. as the Telescas. Their throats were slit. The houses were locked from the inside. Now so much time passed between the murders

Credit:

Co-Executive Producer KIM MANNERS

Music:

Nighttime Right time

Sam: that nobody checked the pattern, except for Dad. He always kept his eyes peeled for another one.

Credit:

Executive Producer McG

Music:

Nighttime Right time

Dean: And now we got one.
Sam: Exactly.
Dean: Alright, I'm with ya. It's worth checking out.

Music:

Nighttime Right time

Sam is nodding.
Dean: We can't pick this up 'til first thing, though, right?
Sam: Yeah.
Dean: Good.

Music:

Nighttime Right time

Dean heads back to the bar.
Sam: Dean...
Dean: Ladies...

Credit:

Produced by CYRUS YAVNEH

Dean: did you miss me?
Brandy: Hell yeah.

Music:

Nighttime Right time

Dean: I'm just kidding. Listen, I talked to my producer,

Credit:

Created by ERIC KRIPKE

Dean: and, uh, it is looking good.
Brandy: Great. Cool.
Sam sniggers, shaking his head. The music stops.

EXT. STREET - EARLY MORNING
A stately mansion, the Telescas place, is shown. The sounds of an automatic water sprinkler, a barking dog, and soft snoring. The camera pans down to show Dean asleep, slouched in the passenger seat of the Impala, sunglasses on. Sam walks around the car.

Credit:

Written by DAVID EHRMAN

Sam leans in and honks the horn.
Dean: HA!
Dean jumps a foot. Sam, laughing, climbs in and sits in the driver's seat. Dean adjusts his sunglasses and mumbles.
Dean: Ahh... man, that's so not cool.
Sam: I just swept the Telescas with EMF. It's clean.
Dean takes off his sunglasses to look blearily at Sam.
Sam: And last night, while you were... out...
Dean lays his head against the window, smirking.
Dean: Ha-ha. Good times.
Sam: I checked the history of the house. No hauntings, no violent crimes. Nothing strange about the Telescas themselves either.
Dean: All right, so if it's not the people and it's not the house,

Credit:

Directed by PHIL SGRICCIA

Dean: then uh, maybe it's the contents. A cursed object or something.
Sam: The house is clean.
Dean: Yeah I know, you said that.
Sam: No, I mean it's empty.
Dean picks his head up to look at Sam.
Sam: No furniture, nothin'.
Dean: Where's all their stuff?
Classical violin music starts playing "Romantic Piece, No. 1" by Antonin Dvorak.

AUCTION HOUSE

EXT. CAR PARK - DAY
The camera pans across a line of expensive cars, a Jaguar, a Rolls Royce with the New York plate "The Krip", a yellow Mustang, and ending on a dust covered Impala. It pans up to show upper class people mingling, and valet parking.

INT. AUCTION HOUSE - DAY
A piece of artwork close up, before the camera refocuses on Dean and Sam. They wander around, looking out of place in their casual, rough clothing. Daniel Blake takes notice of them. Dean takes finger food from a tray. Daniel excuses himself from his companion Evelyn and moves toward them.
Dean: Consignment auctions, estate sales.
Dean takes more food from a tray on a table as Daniel moves up behind them. Sam is looking things over.
Dean: Looks like a garage sale for WASPs if you ask me.
Sam smiles.
Daniel: Can I help you gentlemen?
Sam turns around. Dean puts more food in his mouth, before turning, and looking him up and down.
Dean: (putting on a posh voice) I'd like some champagne, please.
Daniel is offended. Sam is aghast.
Sam: (sharply to Dean) He's not a waiter.
Dean cocks an eyebrow and tilts his head. Sam huffs.
Sam: I'm Sam Connors.
Sam holds out his hand to the man. Daniel looks down at Sam's hand, and back up, not moving. Sam moves the hand he's holding out to point at Dean.
Sam: That's my brother Dean. We're art dealers, with Connors Limited.
Daniel: You're art dealers?
Daniel smiles unbelieving.
Sam: That's right.
Both Sam and Dean smile, although Dean's cheeks are full of food.
Daniel: I'm Daniel Blake. This is my auction house.
Dean looks around as if it might meet with his approval.
Daniel: Now, gentlemen, this is a private showing, and I don't remember seeing you on the guest list.
Sam smiles, as if there's a mistake. Dean puts on an attitude, and talks with his mouth full.
Dean: We're there, Chuckles, you just need to take another look.
A waiter goes past with drinks on a tray.
Dean: Oh. Finally.
Dean swipes a glass. Dean turns back to Blake, sniffs the glass, raises his eyebrows then turns and walks away. Sam hastily follows, smiling at Daniel.
Sam: (to Daniel) Cheers.
Sam shoots Dean dirty looks. Daniel watches them go. Dean and Sam check out different items for auction and stop by the painting of the family.
Sarah: A fine example of American Primitive, wouldn't you say?
Dean and Sam turn to see a sleek, classy, extremely good looking young woman in a black dress coming down a spiral staircase. They both stare at her as she turns her back while taking the final part of the stairs. Sam turns back to look at the painting again to evaluate it, and Dean, ogling, slaps Sam on the back and continues staring.
Sam: Well I'd say it's more Grant Wood than Grandma Moses.
Sarah ducks her head, smiling.
Sam: But you knew that. You just wanted to see if I did.
Dean picks up more food.
Sarah: Guilty. And clumsy. I apologize. I'm Sarah Blake.
Sam: I'm Sam. This is my...
Sam glances over at Dean eating.
Sam: brother, Dean.
Dean continues to stuff his face from passing trays.
Sarah: Dean!
Dean: Mmm?
Sarah: Can we get you some more mini-quiche?
Dean shakes his head, while continuing to chew.
Dean: Mm-mm. I'm good, thanks.
Sarah: (to Sam) So, can I help you with something?
Sam: Yeah, actually. Um, what can you tell us about the Telesca estate?
Sarah: The whole thing's pretty grisly if you ask me, selling your things this soon. But Dad's right about one thing. Sensationalism brings out the crowds. Even the rich ones.
Dean's noticing Sarah smiling at Sam, and Sam smiling at Sarah.
Sam: Is it possible to see the provenances?
Daniel comes up behind them.
Daniel: I'm afraid there isn't any chance of that.
Sam: Why not?
Daniel: You're not on the guest list. (directly to Dean) And I think it's time to leave.
Dean: (putting on a posh voice) Well we don't have to be told twice.
Daniel: Apparently you do.
Sam: Okay. It's all right. We don't want any trouble. We'll go.
Dean raises his eyebrows and walks off. Sam and Sarah exchange a long look before he follows. Daniel and Sarah watch them leave.
Sarah: Dad, that was rude.
The music stops.

CALL HER

EXT. MOTEL - DAY
Dean and Sam take their bags out of the Impala, and approach room number 12.
Dean: Grant Wood, Grandma Moses? What?
Sam: Art history course. It's good for meetin' girls.
Dean unlocks the door.
Dean: It's like I don't even know you.
They enter the room.

INT. MOTEL ROOM - DAY
The camera stays on the back of the door as it closes. The 'do not disturb' door hanger is a silver outline of John Travolta from Saturday Night Fever. Disco music accompanies the camera as it pans across a totally over the top retro 70s disco fantasy room. The boys pause and look from one side of the room to the other.
Dean and Sam: Huh.
They move into the room, dumping their bags on each of their beds.
Dean: What was the... providence?
Sam: Prov-e-nance. It's a certificate of origin, like a biography, you know. We can use 'em to check the history of the pieces, see if anything's got a freaky past.
Dean: Huh. Well, we're not getting anything out of Chuckles, but, uh, Sarah...
Dean snaps his fingers at Sam, smirking. Sam smirks back.
Sam: Yeah, maybe you can get her to write it all down on a cocktail napkin.
Dean: (laughing) Not me.
Sam: Oh, no no no no, pick ups are your thing Dean.
Dean: It wasn't my butt she was checking out.
Sam looks at Dean in surprise. Dean gives him a serious look.
Sam: In other words, you want me to use her to get information.
Dean: Sometimes you gotta take one for the team.
Dean hits two buttons, then hands over the cell phone to Sam.
Dean: Call her.

INT. UPSCALE RESTAURANT - EVENING
"One More Once" by Alan Pasqua begins playing. Sam and Sarah sit at a table.
Sam: Nice place.
Sarah: Yeah.
There is a long awkward pause as the waiter puts out their water glasses.
Sarah: Glad you called. Surprised, but glad.
Sam: Yeah?
Sarah: Although you seemed to have a hard time getting out the words 'Would you like to have dinner?'
Sam ducks in embarrassment. Sarah smiles.
Sam: Ahh... yeah. I haven't really... been on a date in a while.
Sarah: Welcome to the club.
Sam: (surprised) You're kidding me.
Sarah shakes her head.
Waiter: Here we are.
The waiter hands over a menu to Sarah.
Sarah: Thanks.
The waiter hands over a leather bound menu, which Sam accepts. He then hands over the leather bound wine list.
Waiter: The wine list.
Sam looks totally uncomfortable, flipping pages randomly. He clears his throat, and flips more pages.
Sarah: (to the waiter) I don't know about... Romeo here, but I'll have a beer.
Sam smiles at Sarah, reevaluating her.
Waiter: (to Sam) And you?
Sam: Make that two.
Waiter: Certainly.
Music stops.

INT. UPSCALE RESTAURANT - EVENING, LATER
There are two bottles being carried by a waiter.
Sam: So you studied art in school, huh?
Sarah: It's true. I was an artist. A terrible, terrible artist. And that's why I'm in the auction business. And you were pre-law?
Sam: Yeah.
Sarah: But you didn't go to law school. How come?
Sam: Ahh, that's a -pfft- really long story for another time.
Sam takes a drink.
Sarah: You're not like any art dealer I've ever met.
They exchange another long look.
Sam: So... what did you mean when you said you haven't been on a date in a while? Trying to make me feel like I'm not such a loser?
Sarah: I'm sure you're many things Sam. I'm also sure loser isn't one of them.
More long looks exchanged.
Sarah: (slowly) It was my Mom. She... died about a year ago. Totally unexpected. It really threw me. I went into this shell. A nice, warm, safe shell. But lately I've been thinking. It's not what she would have wanted for me. So...
Sarah looks off in the distance, thinking. Sam gazes at her. Sarah comes back to herself.
Sarah: So what about you? You're a reasonably attractive guy.
Sam laughs, embarrassed.
Sam: Reasonably?
Sarah: Why haven't you been out and about?
Sam thinks, looks at her, loses his smile, gives a half shake of his head. Sarah watches him.
Sarah: Another long story for another time.
Sam nods slowly with a sad smile.

BURN IT

INT. MOTEL ROOM - NIGHT
Dean is sharpening his blade on a whetstone, Sam is looking through some papers.
Dean: So she just handed the providences over to you.
Sam: Provenances.
Dean stumbles over the word.
Dean: Provenances?
Sam: Yes. We went back to her place, I got a copy of the papers.
Dean: And?
Sam: And nothing. That's it. I left.
Dean: You didn't have to con her... or do any... special favors or anything like that?
Sam rolls his eyes.
Sam: Dean, would you get your mind out of the gutter, please?
Dean laughs.
Dean: You know when this whole thing's done, we could stick around for a little bit.
Sam: Why?
Dean: So you could take her out again. It's obvious you're into her, even I could see that.
Sam: Hey, alright, I think I've got something here.
Dean closes his whetstone and comes over, closing his pocketknife. Sam hands him the papers.
Dean: (reading) "Portrait of Isaiah Merchant's family, painted 1910."
Sam: Now compare the names of the owners with Dad's journal.
Dean moves over to the table to check the papers against the journal. Sam points out Peter Simms.
Dean: First purchased in 1912, to Peter Simms. Peter Simms murdered 1912. Same thing in 1945. Huh, same thing in 1970.
Sam: Then stored, until it was donated to a charity auction last month. Where the Telescas bought it. So what do you think, it's haunted, or cursed?
Dean sits back.
Dean: Either way, it's toast.

EXT. AUCTION HOUSE - NIGHT
Heavy rock music plays. Dean leaps and easily scales the 8 feet high metal gates, landing on the other side.
Dean: Come on!
Sam follows, scaling the metal gates and sprinting into the mist. Camera closeup of Daniel Blake Auction & Estates. Acquisition - Appraisal Since 1917. Sam, wearing gloves, disarms the security alarm.
Sam: Go ahead.
Dean, also with gloves, picks the lock. They shine their flashlights around inside, quickly and efficiently searching for the painting. Dean spies it upstairs and they sprint up the spiral staircase. Holding his flashlight in his mouth, Dean flicks his switchblade and cuts the painting from its frame. Sam rolls it up and carries it out, following Dean. They're in and out within a couple of minutes. The whole scene screams expertise with many years of breaking and entering.

EXT. DIRT ROAD - NIGHT
The painting lies in the dirt, Sam holding the flashlight as Dean readies the matches.
Dean: Ugly-ass thing.
The music stops.
Dean: You ask me, we're doing the art world a favor.
He drops the match and the painting ignites, burning up.

INT. AUCTION HOUSE - NIGHT
The painting starts to reform in the frame.

EXT. DIRT ROAD - NIGHT
The brothers stand over the almost 6 foot tall flames shooting from the painting, watching the painting be consumed.

INT. AUCTION HOUSE - NIGHT
The painting completely reforms into the frame. The screen goes black.

INT. MOTEL ROOM - MORNING
Dean rushes from the bathroom.
Dean: We've got a problem. I can't find my wallet.
Sam is packing his duffel, and looks over at Dean. Dean rushes around the room.
Sam: How's that my problem?
Dean: 'Cause I think I dropped it in the warehouse last night.
Sam is horrified.
Sam: You're kidding, right?
Dean heads over to grab his jacket to put it on.
Dean: No. It's got my prints, my ID, well my fake ID anyway. But, we gotta get it before someone else finds it. Come on.
Dean's heading out. Sam is standing by the bed, mouth hanging open, in shock. He quickly slams down his shirt he's holding on the bed.

EXT. AUCTION HOUSE - DAY
A shot of their door, over the top of a high priced car.

INT. AUCTION HOUSE - DAY
Sam and Dean hurry around, looking everywhere. There are customers in the background. They both are frustrated.
Sam: How do you lose your wallet, Dean?
Dean throws his hands in the air and keeps looking. Sarah walks in and sees them.
Sarah: (smiling) Hey guys!
They both spin around. Sam sets down the box, then both try and act cool.
Sam: Sarah! Hey!
Dean's leaning against a piece of furniture, watching Sam and Sarah.
Sarah: What are you doing here?
Sam: Ahh... we...
Sam looks over at Dean, then back at Sarah.
Sam: We... are leaving town and, you know, we came to say goodbye.
Dean strolls over.
Dean: What are you talking about Sam? We're sticking around for at least another day or two.
Sam looks at Dean, confused. Sarah smiles, chuckling a little. Dean gets his wallet out of his pocket and looking meaningfully at Sam.
Dean: Oh, Sam. By the way. I'm gonna go ahead and give you that $20 I owe you. (to Sarah) I always forget, you know.
Sam smiles, knowing the con Dean's playing. Dean holds out the cash, smiling.
Dean: There you go.
After a long moment, Sam snatches the cash from Dean, giving him an unbelieving look.
Dean: (to Sarah) Well I'll leave you two crazy kids alone, I gotta go do something... somewhere.
Sam gives him a snarky smile. Dean leaves quickly. Sam turns from watching Dean leave back to Sarah.
Sam: (awkwardly) So...
Sarah: I had a good time last night.
Sam: Yeah, yeah. I did too.
Sarah: Maybe... we should do it again sometime.
Sam: You know... I'd love to, I really would, but Dean, he was just screwing around. We really are taking off today.
Sarah: Oh. Oh. Ah that's too bad.
Sam sees the painting being carried past.
Sam: OH MY GOD!
Sarah jumps and turns to look.
Sarah: What?
Sam: The... that painting... looks so good!
Sarah: I-if you can call that monstrosity good, then... yeah, I guess.
Sam: So... what do you know about that painting?
Sarah: Not much - just that it creeps me out. We sold it to the Telescas at a charity auction the night they were murdered.
Sam: (raising his voice) Yeah, and now you're just going to sell it again?
Sarah: As much as my Dad wants to, no, I won't let him. I... think it'd be in bad taste.
Sam is agitated.
Sam: Good. Yeah. You know what? Don't. Don't. Make sure you don't, okay?
Sarah: Why? Don't tell me you're interested in that?
Sam's flustered and backing up.
Sam: No. No, God, no. Not in buying it, no. You know what, I gotta go. I gotta take care of something. But umm, I will call you back. I will call you. I-I'll see you later.
Sarah: Wait, so you're... not leaving tonight?
Sam: No-o-o, I guess not. I'll see ya.
Sam turns and bolts. Sarah is confused.
Sarah: O...kay.
She looks wonderingly after Sam.

EXT. IMPALA - DAY
The boys climb in on either side, and slam the doors almost in unison.

INT. IMPALA - DAY
Sam: I don't understand, Dean. We burned the damn thing.
Dean's frustrated.
Dean: Yeah, thank you Captain Obvious. All right, we just need to figure out another way to get rid of it. Any ideas?
Sam: Okay, all right. Well, um, in almost all the lore about haunted paintings it's always the painting's subject that haunts 'em.
Dean: Yeah? Alright so we need to figure out everything there is to know about that creepy-ass family and that creepy-ass painting. What were their names again?
Sam's trying to remember.

MERCHANT HISTORY

INT. SECOND HAND BOOKSHOP - DAY
Proprietor: You said the Isaiah Merchant family right?
Sam: Yeah, that's right.
The proprietor lays a huge book of newspaper clippings the table. Dean approaches, smiling and flipping through an old book with pictures of guns.
Proprietor: I dug up every scrap of local history I could find. So, are you boys crime buffs?
Dean: Kind of. Yeah. Why do you ask?
Proprietor: Well...
He holds up a newspaper article. The lead story on the front page is 'NEW TITANIC SINKS'.
He points at a side article. It reads 'Father Slaughters Family, Kills Self'. Dean points to it.
Dean: Yes. Yeah, that sounds about right.
Sam: The whole family was killed?
Proprietor: It seems this Isaiah, he slits his kids' throats, then his wife, then himself. Now he was a barber by trade. Used a straight razor.
Sam: Why'd he do it?
Proprietor: Well, ah, let's look. Ahh... (reading) "People who knew him describe Isaiah as having a stern and harsh temperament. Controlled his family with an iron fist. Uh, wife, uh, two sons, adopted daughter, uh..."
He skims on.
Proprietor: Yeah yeah yeah... "Uh, there were whispers that the wife was gonna take the kids and leave." Uh, which of course you know in that day and age, um... so instead, old man Isaiah... well, he gave them all a shave.
He draws his hand across his throat with an appropriate noise, laughing. Dean joins in but stops when Sam gives him bitchface.
Dean: Does it say what happened to the bodies?
Proprietor: Just that they were all cremated.
Dean and Sam look at each other.
Sam: Anything else?
Proprietor: Yeah. Actually I found a... picture of the family. It's right here... somewhere. Right. Here it is.
It's the picture of the painting. Sam notices something. Dean looks up at Sam. Sam looks at the proprietor.
Sam: Hey. Could we get a copy of this please?
Proprietor: Huh. Sure.

INT. AUCTION HOUSE - DAY
Blake watches as the painting is packed into a moving crate. Sarah approaches him.
Sarah: Dad! You promised you wouldn't sell that painting.
Daniel: I know sweetie, but Evelyn's offered a persuasive amount of money.
She gives a quick huff.
Sarah: You're shameless, you know that?
Daniel: For that kind of money, I can afford to be.
He closes his book and walks away. The moving crate is fastened shut. Sarah looks after her father, then at the moving crate with resignation.
Sam (voiceover): I'm telling you man, I'm sure of it. The painting at the auction house,

INT. MOTEL ROOM - NIGHT
The photocopy of the painting is on the table. Sam turns the picture around, and pushes it over toward Dean.
Sam: Dad is looking down. Painting here, Dad's looking out. The painting has changed, Dean.
Sam and Dean sit at the table, looking at this picture.
Dean: Alright, so you think that, uh, Daddy dearest is trapped in the painting and is handing out Columbian neckties like he did with his family?
Sam: Well, yeah, it seems like it. But if his bones are already dusted then how are we gonna stop him?
Dean: Alright, well, if Isaiah's position changed, then maybe some other things in the painting changed as well. You know, it could give us some clues.
Sam: What, like a Da Vinci Code deal?
Dean gives Sam a totally blank look.
Dean: I don't... know. I'm... uh, still waiting for the movie on that one. Anyway, we gotta get back in and see that painting.
Dean rises and moves across to the bed.
Dean: Which is a good thing, because you can get some more time to crush on your girlfriend.
He throws himself onto his back and crosses his arms.
Sam: Dude. Enough already.
Dean: What?
Sam: What? Ever since we got here, you've been trying to pimp me out to Sarah. Just back off, all right?
Dean: Well, you like her don't you?
Sam raises his arms and eyes to the ceiling.
Dean: All right, you like her, she likes you, you're both consenting adults.
Dean shrugs. Sam is frustrated, voice rising.
Sam: What's the point, Dean? We'll just leave. We always leave.
Dean: Well I'm not talking about (chuckles) marriage, Sam.
Sam: (agitated) You know, I don't get it. What do you care if I hook up?
Dean: (calmly) Cause then maybe you wouldn't be so cranky all the time.
Sam is surprised at him. Dean's eyebrows goes up to make his point. Sam huffs out a breath and looks away. Dean sits up in bed, leaning forward.
Dean: You know, seriously Sam, this isn't about just hooking up, okay? I mean, I- I think that this Sarah girl could be good for you.
Sam sighs, shakes his head, scratches, and looks away. Dean watches closely.
Dean: And I don't mean any disrespect but I'm... I'm sure this is about Jessica, right?
Sam looks over.
Dean: Now I don't know what it's like to lose somebody like that... but... (softly) I would think that she would want you to be happy.
Sam is quiet, tears in his eyes.
Dean: God forbid, have fun once in a while... wouldn't she?
Sam thinks, and a slow smile briefly appears.
Sam: (softly) Yeah I know she would.
Dean nods his head. Sam shakes his head, then sighs heavily.
Sam: Yeah you're right. Part of this is about Jessica. But not the main part.
Sam faces Dean squarely.
Dean: What's it about?
Sam refuses to answer.
Dean: Yeah, alright.
Dean lies back again and crosses his arms.
Dean: Well we still gotta see that painting, which means you still gotta call Sarah, so...
Sam picks up the phone. Dean moves a bit to get comfortable and closes his eyes, settling in. Sam clears his throat, and blows out.
Sam: (awkwardly) Sarah, hey, it's Sam.
Pause. Dean peeks with one eye at his brother.
Sam: Hey, hi. (pause) Good. Good, yeah. Umm. What about you?
Sam: (repeating himself) Yeah good, good, really good.
Dean: (whispers) Smooth.
Sam picks his head up to glance over at Dean, then ignores him.
Sam: So, ah... so listen. Me and my brother,
Dean once more shakes his head and closes his eyes.
Sam: were... uh... thinking that maybe we'd like to come back in and look at the painting again. I... I think maybe we are interested in buying it.
Short pause.
Sam: What!?
Sam stands up. At Sam's tone Dean snaps to attention.
Sam: Who'd you sell it to?
Dean rises up, listening closely.
Sam: (urgently) Sarah, I need an address right now.

EXT. EVELYN'S MANSION - NIGHT
Camera shot of the mansion. Wind is blowing.

INT. MANSION - NIGHT
Evelyn, from the auction house earlier, sits reading in her lounge. The painting is on the wall above the fireplace. Isaiah turns his head, watching her. Evelyn puts down her book and places her glasses on top of it before picking up her cup of tea. In her glasses we see a reflection of a straight razor sliding past. Evelyn hears a shuffling noise and looks up, gasping in horror. The screen goes black.

EXT. EVELYN'S HOUSE - NIGHT
The Impala roars up and the boys jump out. Sarah appears from the car waiting in the driveway.
Sarah: Sam what's happening?
Sam walks past her.
Sam: I told you, you shouldn't have come.
Dean joins Sam and they run up the stairs to the front porch, with Sarah following right behind. Dean starts banging on the door.
Dean: Hello! Anybody home?!
Sarah: You said Evelyn might be in danger? What kind of danger?
Dean: I can't knock this sucker down. I gotta pick it.
Dean starts to pick the lock as Sam races to bang on the windows, which are covered with metal security bars.
Sarah: What are you guys, burglars?
Sam: I wish it was that simple. Look you really should wait in the car. It's for your own good.
Dean: Ah!
Dean gets the door open and Sam quickly follows him inside.
Sarah: The hell I will. Evelyn's a friend.
Sarah runs in after them.
Sarah: Evelyn?
Dean: Evelyn!
They walk into the lounge, Evelyn sits half turned away from them.
Sarah: Evelyn?
They continue to walk in, camera panning up to the painting briefly. The painting has changed, Isaiah now looks at his daughter rather than straight ahead.
Sarah: Evelyn? It's Sarah Blake... Are you all right?
Sarah reaches to touch Evelyn's shoulder.
Sam: (urgently) Sarah don't. Sarah!
Evelyn's head tips back, exposing that her slashed throat. Sarah screams. The father is looking straight ahead in the painting.
Sarah: Oh my God. Oh My God!!
Sam puts his arm around her and starts to shepherd her out of the room.
Sarah: Oh my God.
Sarah is panting with fear, as Sam removes her from the room. Close up of the painting. Scene fades out.

EXT. MOTEL ROOM - DAY
A shot of the Impala in front of the number 12 motel room.

INT. MOTEL ROOM - DAY
Dean sits at the bar with the laptop, Sam paces. There is a knock on the door. Sam opens it.
Sam: Hey.
Sarah storms past him.
Sam: You all right?
Sarah: No, actually, I just lied to the cops and told them I went to Evelyn's, alone, and found her like that.
Dean smirks while Sam looks relieved.
Sam: Thank you.
Sarah: Don't thank me, I'm about to call 'em right back if you don't tell me what the hell's going on. Who's killing these people?
Sam looks at Dean, who raises his eyebrows.
Sam: (to Sarah) What.
Sarah: What?
Sam: It's not 'who'... It's 'what'... is killing those people.
Sarah looks at Sam like he's insane.
Sam: (sighing) Sarah, you saw that painting move.
Sarah takes a quick breath, turning away to pace.
Sarah: (agitated) No... no... I was... I was seeing things. It's impossible.
Dean: Yeah, well, welcome to our world.
Sam: Sarah, I know this sounds crazy... but we think that that painting is haunted.
Sarah sniggering but with tears in her eyes. She half turns away, then faces them again.
Sarah: You're joking.
They both just stare at her. She looks at Sam, then Dean.
Sarah: You're not joking. God, the guys I go out with.
Sam: 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
Sam indicates himself and his brother.
Sam: just trying to stop it. And that's the truth.
Sarah takes a deep breath.
Sarah: Then I guess you'd better show me. I'm coming with you.
Sarah walks around the room, heading for the door.
Sam: What? No. Sarah, no, you should just go home. This stuff can get dangerous and...
Dean looks at Sam closely.
Sam: and I don't want you to get hurt.
Sarah: 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 strides to the door and opens it. She turns back.
Sarah: So are we going or what?
She walks out.
Dean: Sam?
Sam looks across to where Dean is sitting. Dean points out the door after Sarah.
Dean: Marry that girl.

EXT. EVELYN'S HOUSE - DAY
Sam is picking the lock.
Sarah: Ahhh... isn't this a crime scene?
Dean: You've already lied to the cops. What's another infraction?
Dean smiles to Sarah, before taking his knife to slice open the "Do Not Enter - Crime Scene" seal.

FINDING ISAIAH

INT. EVELYN'S HOUSE - DAY
Sam lifts the painting down from the wall and they examine it closely. Sarah is very uncomfortable, looking around. The clock ticking is heard.
Sarah: Aren't you worried that it's gonna, you know, kill us?
Sam: Nah, it seems to do its thing at night. I think we're all right in the daylight.
Dean compares the photocopy of the picture with the painting, and notices the razor.
Dean: Jared, check it out. The razor, it's, uh, closed in this one but it's open in that one.
Dean hands over the photocopy to Sam to look at.
Sarah: What are you guys looking for?
Dean: Well if the spirit's changing aspects of the painting, maybe it's doing so for a reason.
Sam: Hey hey look at this. The painting in the painting.
Dean joins Sam, and they compare the paper to the painting.
Dean: Looks like a crypt, or a mausoleum, or somethin'.
Sam: (softly) Yeah.
Dean looks around, grabs a thick glass ashtray and uses it as a magnifying glass to read the name on the mausoleum.
Dean: Merchant.

EXT. GRAVEYARD - DAY
A crow in a tree. A statue of an angel. Another crow. A swarm of birds flying. A hearse is driving through the graveyard. Sam, Dean and Sarah walk through the graves.
Dean: This is the third boneyard we've checked. I think this ghost is jerking us around.
Sarah: So this is what you guys do for a living?
Sam: Not exactly. We don't get paid.
Sam gives her a slight smile.
Sarah: Well, Mazel tov.
Dean spots the mausoleum.
Dean: Over there.
They walk over. Camera pans up to show the Merchant name on the mausoleum. Dean brings out his bolt cutters.

INT. MERCHANT MAUSOLEUM - DAY
Dean breaks the lock and they open the squeaky doors. Pushing aside the cobwebs, they enter and look around. There are four urns in front of little glass fronted boxes. There are a number of name plates on the opposite wall as well . Sarah looks into one of the cases at a doll.
Sarah: Okay, that right there is the creepiest thing I've ever seen.
Sam: 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.
Wind blows in.
Dean: Notice anything strange here?
Sarah: Ah... where do I start?
Sam sniggers, looking at her.
Dean: No, that's not what I mean. Look at the urns.
Sam: Yeah. There are only four.
Dean: Yeah, Mom and the three kids. Daddy dearest isn't here.
Sam: So where is he?
Sam looks over at Dean.

EXT. OFFICE BUILDINGS - DAY
Sam and Sarah sit on a small wall, waiting.
Sarah: So what exactly is your brother doing in there?
Sam: Searching county death certificates. Trying to find out what happened to Isaiah's body.
Sarah: How'd he even get in the door?
Sam chuckles.
Sam: Lying and subterfuge mostly.
Sarah looks down and back up.
Sam: You have a... um... you have an eyelash... on your... right...
Sarah reaches, but has no idea where it is.
Sam: No... uh, you know what?
Sarah laughs.
Sam: Do you mind if I?
Sarah: No.
Sam: Okay.
Sam reaches for it and holds it on his finger.
Sam: Okay, I got it. Make a wish.
Sam holds up his finger. Laughing, Sarah wishes, and blows it away.
Sarah: Sam, can I ask you something?
Sam: Yeah, sure.
Sarah: I don't mean to be forward, but
Sarah chuckles.
Sarah: a girl could wait here forever. Is there something, here, between us? Or am I delusional?
Sam: You're not delusional.
Sarah: But... there's a but coming.
Sam: But... I don't think this would be a good idea.
Sarah: Can I ask why?
Sam: 'Cause I like you.
Sarah: Wait. You lost me.
They both laugh.
Sam: Look, it's hard to explain. Ah... It's just when people are around me... I don't know, they get hurt.
Sarah: What do you mean?
Sam: I mean like physically hurt... With what me and my brother do, it's...
Sam takes a cleansing breath.
Sam: (whispers) Sarah, I had a girlfriend.
Sarah nods.
Sam: And she died. And my Mom, died too. I don't know, it's like... it's like I'm cursed or somethin'. Like death just follows me around. Look, I'm not scared of much, but if I let myself have feelings for anybody...
Sarah: You're scared they'd get hurt too.
Sam looks down.
Sarah: That's very sweet. And very archaic.
Sam looks back up.
Sam: Sorry?
Sarah: Look I'm a big girl Sam. It's not your job to make decisions for me. There's always a chance of getting hurt.
Sam: I'm not talking about a broken heart and a tub of Haagen Dazs. I'm talking about life and death.
Sarah: And tomorrow I could get hit by a bus. That's what life is. Look, I know losing somebody you love, it's terrible. You shut yourself off. Believe me, I know. But when you shut out pain, you shut out everything else too.
Sam: Sarah, you don't understand. The pain that I went through...
Sam half chuckles.
Sam: I can't go through it again. I can't.
Sarah and Sam gaze at each other, at an impasse. Dean suddenly appears on the other side of Sam.
Dean: Am I interrupting something?
Sam: No.
Sarah: Not at all.
Dean looks between them.
Dean: Huh. Apparently.
Sam: So, what'd you get?
Dean: Paydirt. Apparently the surviving relatives of the Merchant family were so ashamed of Isaiah that they didn't want him interred with the rest of the family. So, they handed him over to the county. The county gave him a pauper's funeral. Economy style. Turns out he wasn't cremated; he was buried in a pine box.
Sam: So there are bones to burn.
Dean: There are bones to burn.
Sam: Tell me you know where.
Dean gives a smile, with a cocky attitude.

EXT. GRAVEYARD - NIGHT
Dean and Sam dig; Sarah holds a flashlight. Sam crawls out of the grave, grunting, to stand next to Sarah, panting.
Sarah: You guys seem to be uncomfortably comfortable with this.
Sam: Well, ah, this isn't exactly the first grave we've dug.
Sam smiles at Sarah.
Sam: Still think I'm a catch?
Sarah glances at Sam. Dean taps his shovel on something hard.
Dean: Think I've got something.
Dean cracks open the coffin lid to reveal bones. Dean pours the salt, Sam the kerosene. Sarah watches, holding the flashlight.
Dean: You've been a real pain in the ass, Isaiah.
Dean strikes a match.
Dean: Good riddance.
He tosses the match in. They all stand and watch it burn. Scene fades out.

BURN IT, AGAIN

EXT. EVELYN'S HOUSE - NIGHT
Scene fades in. The Impala pulls up. Sam opens the passenger door.
Sam: Keep the motor running.
Sarah: I thought the painting was harmless now?
Sam turns around in the car to see Sarah.
Sam: Better safe than sorry. We're gonna bury the sucker.
Sarah gets out of the car decisively.
Sarah: I'm gonna come with you.
Sam: You sure?
Sarah: Yeah.
Dean: (calling Sam back) Hey! hey hey.
Sam looks back in at Dean. Dean watches Sarah until she walks far enough away.
Dean: (whispers to Sam) I'll stay here, you go make your move.
Sam scoffs and gets out of the car. Dean leans forward.
Dean: S-Sam. I'm serious!
Sam closes the door, and heads for the front door, joining Sarah at the base of the steps. As Sarah and Sam duck under the police line Dean turns on the radio to "set the mood" for Sam and Sarah. "Bad Time (To Be in Love)" by Grand Funk Railroad begins to play.

Music:

I'm in love with the girl that I'm talking about

Grimacing, Sam turns around.

Music:

I'm in love with the girl I can't live without

He gives Dean a 'wtf' gesture. Dean makes a 'what?' gesture.

Music:

I'm in love but I feel like I'm wearin' it out

Sam motions for him to cut off the music. Sighing, Dean turns it off. Sam opens the door and he and Sarah head inside the house.

INT. EVELYN'S HOUSE - NIGHT
Sam and Sarah stop in front of the painting, looking surprised.
Sarah: Ahhh, Sam? You're the expert on all this... ghost stuff. Is that painting supposed to look like that?
The camera pans down the painting to show no girl.
Sarah: Where's the little girl?
The camera pans to show no razor.
Sam: And the razor.
They hear noises and laughter and look around.

EXT. EVELYN'S HOUSE - NIGHT
Dean in the car watching the house.

INT. EVELYN'S HOUSE - NIGHT
More laughter, and the front door starts to close.

EXT. EVELYN'S HOUSE - NIGHT
The front door slams shut.

INT. EVELYN'S HOUSE - NIGHT
They look in time to see the front door shutting on them. The screen goes black.

EXT. EVELYN'S HOUSE - NIGHT and INT. EVELYN'S HOUSE - NIGHT, alternating
Dean runs up the stairs and starts shoving at the door.
Inside Sam also runs to the door and yanks on it.
Sam: Dean! Hey! Is that you?
Dean: Sammy, you all right?
Sam pulls out his phone and calls Dean. Dean answers.
Sam: Dean!
Dean: Tell me you slammed the front door.
Sam: No, it wasn't me. I think it was the little girl.
Dean: Girl? What girl?
Sam: Yeah she's out of the painting. I think it might've been her all along.
Dean: Wasn't the Dad looking down at her? Maybe he was trying to warn us.
Dean is trying to pick the lock.
Sam: Hey hey hey, let's recap later all right? Just-just get us out of here.
Dean: Well I'm trying to pick the lock. The door won't budge.
Sam: Well, then break it down.
Dean stands up, stymied.
Dean: Okay genius, let me grab my battering ram.
Sam: Dean, the damn thing is coming.
Dean starts to walk across the porch.
Dean: Well you're just gonna have to hold it off until I figure something out. Get some salt or iron.
Sam grabs Sarah's hand.
Sam: Come on.

INT. EVELYN'S HOUSE - NIGHT
Sam rummages through the kitchen drawers, Sarah the lounge cupboards.
Sam: (on phone) What kind of house doesn't have salt? Low-sodium freaks! (to Sarah) Hey, d'you find any iron?
Sarah: No. What's it for?
Sam: Iron repels evil spirits but it's gotta be pure. Hurry. (into phone) Uh, Dean, give me a sec, don't go anywhere.

EXT. EVELYN'S HOUSE - NIGHT
Outside Dean tries knocking the door with his shoulder twice. He leaves the front door and starts walking the front porch looking for entrances.

INT. EVELYN'S HOUSE - NIGHT
Sam: (to Sarah) Look in the chair. Sometimes the seats.
Sam pulls out another drawer. The lounge doors slam shut. Sarah jumps. Sam stands up. The next lounge door slams shut. Sarah jumps again, and the wind blows papers everywhere. Sam and Sarah look around. The girl appears, dragging her doll along the floor by one foot, a razor in her other hand. Sarah sees her.
Sarah: Sam?
Sam backs up, keeping Sarah behind him. The ghost comes closer, moving in a jerky, ghostly manner.
Sarah: That is just so wrong.
The wind keeps blowing around. The girl is still coming for them, razor out. Sam backs into the fireside implements, and they clank. Sam glances down, and then grabs the poker. The girl's face shivers and she roars. Sam swings at the ghost. She disappears. The wind stops. Sarah pants.
Sarah: Iron?
Sam: Yeah.

ITS THE GIRL

EXT. EVELYN'S HOUSE - NIGHT and INT. EVELYN'S HOUSE - NIGHT, alternating
Dean is pacing around the house, trying to figure a way inside. He's still on the phone.
Dean: Sammy, you okay?
Sam: Yeah, for now.
Dean: How we gonna waste her?
Sam: I don't know, she was already cremated. There's nothing left to burn.
Dean: Then how's she still around?
Sam: There must be something else.
Sarah: Sam wait. We used to handle antique dolls at the auction.
Sam: Well that's fascinating Sarah, but important right now?
Sam half turns away from her.
Sarah: Well back then they use to... make the dolls in the kid's image. I mean everything. Like, they... they would use the kid's real hair.
Sam: Dean, Sarah said the doll might have the girl's hair. Human remains, same as bones.
Dean and Sam: (together) The Mausoleum!
Dean heads back to the Impala.

INT. EVELYN'S HOUSE - NIGHT and EXT. MAUSOLEUM - NIGHT, alternating
In the house the electricity fritzes. The wind rises again. Sam raises the poker, carefully walking around, looking for the girl.
Dean drives through the locked gates, racing the Impala toward the graveyard.
A heavy writing desk comes across the room, knocking Sam over. He drops the poker, and is pinned to the ground, groaning and grunting. Sarah runs to help.
Sam: Ahh!
Sarah: Sam! Come on! Push! Come on!
She's trying to push the writing desk off, as is Sam. Both are grunting with the effort. Sarah spins, coming face to face with the ghost.
Dean screeches the Impala to a halt in front of the mausoleum. He leaps out of the car, running into the mausoleum.

INT. MAUSOLEUM - NIGHT and INT. EVELYN'S HOUSE - NIGHT, alternating
Dean pounds at the glass container with the side of his fist four times, then smashes at it with the butt of his gun several times, but it doesn't break.
Dean: Argh.
He turns to run back to the car, gun in hand, then stops and looks down at it. He grimaces in realization that he could shoot with the gun.
Dean: Come on Dean!
Dean lifts his other arm to protect his face, and shoots the glass.
Back at the house Sarah is thrown through the air by the ghost.
Sarah: Ah! Ahh!!
Dean uses the gun to knock out the rest of the glass until he can grab the doll.
Sarah: Ugh.
Sarah looks around.
Sam: Ahh.
Sam is trying to get free, watching Sarah.
Dean grabs the doll, reaches for his lighter. It refuses to light.
Sarah: Ah.
The ghost slowly walks around, heading towards Sarah.
Dean's still trying to flick the lighter on, but it refuses.
Dean: Come on! Come on!
Sarah pulls herself along the floor and pushes herself up against the wall, watching the ghost approach while she is raising the razor.
Sam: Gaah!!
Sam's pushing, trying to free himself. The ghost comes closer, raising the razor. Sarah whimpers.
Sarah: Oh!
Dean's lighter finally catches and he holds it under the doll's hair.
Sam grunts as he uses all his strength to push the cupboard slowly away from him.
The hair begins to smoke and then to burn. Dean's holding the doll, turning to watch it burn.
The ghost raises the razor, preparing to strike.
Sarah whimpers.
The doll's hair is burning so much, Dean throws the doll down.
Sam dives for Sarah shoving her out of the way just as the ghost is about to bring the razor down, covering her body with his own.
Sam: No!
At the same moment the ghost rears back, burning up. As she burns her figure reappears back in the painting.
Sam is on top of Sarah on the floor together. He rises, and looks around, then down at Sarah. She's watching him as he is her hero.
Dean looks at the burnt doll on the floor of the mausoleum, then pulls out his phone.
Sam and Sarah are sitting next to each other. He checks the phone, then answers.
Dean: Sam, you good?
Sam slowly looks at Sarah, then gives a half shrug before answering.
Sam: Not bad.
Dean ducks, heading out of the mausoleum.
Sam sighs and hangs up, leaning back against the wall next to Sarah, both looking exhausted. Sam looks from the painting over to Sarah, who looks up at the painting. Sam looks back at the painting. The screen goes black.

INT. AUCTION HOUSE - DAY
Dean approaches where Sam and Sarah stand watching the painting be crated up. Dean holds up some papers.
Dean: This was archived in the county records. The Merchant's adopted daughter Melanie. Know why she was up for adoption? 'Cause her real family was murdered in their beds.
Sarah: She killed them?
Dean: Yeah. Who'd suspect her? Sweet little girl. So then she kills Isaiah and his family. The old man takes the blame. His spirit's been trying to warn people ever since.
Worker: Where's this one go?
Sarah: Take it out back and burn it.
Everyone stops and looks at her, except one worker who looks at the other one for confirmation.
Sarah: I'm serious, guys. Thanks.
The workers start hauling it away. Sarah turns to Sam and Dean. Sam turns around to face Sarah.
Sarah: So why'd the girl do it?
Sam: Killing others? Killing herself? Some people are just born tortured. So when they die, their spirits are just as dark.
Dean: Maybe. I don't really care. It's over, we move on.
Sarah moves slightly closer to Sam, smiling.
Sarah: Ahh... I guess this means you're leaving.
Dean looks from Sam to Sarah. Sam stares at Dean until he gets it.
Dean: I'll go wait in the car. See you Sarah.
Sarah nods at Dean. Dean stands awkwardly for a second, looking at Sam, then nods and walks away, grumbling under his breath.
Dean: I'm the one that burned the doll, and destroyed the spirit, but don't thank me or anything.
Pause. Sarah steps closer, smiling.
Sarah: There are a million things I wanna say to you, but for the life of me, I can't think of one.
Sam: Yeah, I'll miss you too.
They both nod slightly at each other.
Sarah: You know there's a lesson in all of this.
Sam: What's that?
Sarah: We all got through this in one piece.
Sam chuckles.
Sarah: I didn't get hurt.
Sam: Yeah I'm glad for that.
Sarah: So, maybe you're not cursed. Maybe...
Long pause as they gaze at each other.
Sarah: Maybe you'll come back and see me.
Sam gives a slight smile and nod.
Sam: I will.
The two of them continue to gaze into each other's eyes.

EXT. AUCTION HOUSE - DAY
Dean is leaning against the car. He watches Sarah letting Sam out and closing the door. Shaking his head, he turns to get into the car.

INT. AUCTION HOUSE - DAY
Inside, Sarah leans against the door for a long minute, thinking, looking sad. There is a knock. She startles up.

EXT. AUCTION HOUSE - DAY
Dean hears the knock and turns around.
Sarah opens the door and Sam is there. She smiles and he steps in and kisses her.
Dean sees Sam kiss Sarah. A smile slowly crosses his face. Sam continues kissing.
Dean: That's my boy.
Dean smiles in approval, then he gets into the car.
Sam and Sarah come up for air; Sarah smiling a wide smile. Sarah then starts again, as they continue kissing in the doorway.