Outfits in the external link

Previously on Worlds Colliding (Supernatural):

November 2, 1988

Clips from 1.01 "Pilot"

The Winchester House.

17 years ago

Young Sam walked into Baby Catty's nursery to see a man's silhouette standing over Baby Catty's crib. "Daddy?"

Mary ran toward the nursery, stopping short.

John gave Baby Catty to Young Sam. "Take your sister outside as fast as you can! Now, Sammy, go!"

Young Sam and Young Dean ran out of the house with Baby Catty.

John looked at the ceiling.

Their mother mysteriously died.

John watched the nursery burn, Mary with it. "Mary! No!"

Now they are...

From 1.07 "Hook Man", in Lori and Taylor's dorm room, Dean, Catty and Sam were looking at the message on the wall.

From 1.01 "Pilot", in Sam's Apartment, Catty spoke to Sam and Jessica. "Dad's on a hunting trip."

Outside of John's motel room, Sam and Dean were covered with sewer water, playing lookout.

Catty's arms reached out, pulling Sam and Dean inside.

In Sam's Apartment, Catty spoke to Sam and Jessica. "And he hasn't been home in a few days."

Are on a quest to find their father

In the Jericho County Sheriff's Office, Sheriff tossed down John's Journal.

From 1.02 "Wendigo", in the woods, Dean knelt in front of Sam and Catty, holding John's Journal. "This is Dad's book. I think he wants us to pick up where we left off."

From 1.03 "Dead in the Water", on the dock above the lake, Lucas knelt down, reaching a hand into the water.

Peter's hand reach out of the water to grab Lucas', pulling him into the water.

From 1.06 "Skin", on the street outside of the Impala, Dean had a gun trained on Shapeshifter!Catty.

Dean: (voice over from 1.02 Wendigo) "Saving people."

From 1.06 "Skin", in the Warren House, Shapeshifter!Dean lunged toward Catty. A beaten, bloody and tortured Catty held the knife ready, breathing heavily, bracing herself for a fight.

From 1.01 "Pilot", on Sylvania Bridge The Ghost-possessed Impala drove straight toward Dean, Catty and Sam. Dean, Catty and Sam ran away as fast as they could.

Dean: (voice over from 1.02 Wendigo) "Hunting things."

From 1.09 "Home", in Jenny's House, An invisible force threw Sam to the floor, making him slide backward into another room, crashing into the table.

From 1.05 "Bloody Mary", in the antique store, Catty used a crowbar to shatter Bloody Mary's mirror.

Dean: (voice over from 1.02 Wendigo) "The family business."

From 1.02 "Wendigo", in the woods, Sam spoke to Catty and Dean. "I got to find Dad."

Catty nodded. "Okay."

The Impala drove off into the night.

§

New Paltz, New York

Day One

Night - Rich Home

There was an old painting of an historical family. It had three children, two boys and a little girl. The little girl was holding a doll in her hand. There was a man standing in the back, looking at the little girl, a mother sitting down in front of them. It also had another painting of what looked like a mausoleum behind the dad. There was a table nearby with a lamp, a book and a straight razor. 

A man was adjusting the frame of the painting on the wall. "Okay, right about there."

A woman giggled. "I can't believe we actually bought this thing."

"There's a reason charity auctions have an open bar," the man told her.

They looked at it for a moment.

"Don't you think..." the woman trailed off. "I don't know. It's kinda creepy."

The man put a hand on her back, unzipping the back of her dress. "It's okay. I'll keep you safe."

"Maybe you're the one I ought to be scared of," the woman told him. They kissed for a long moment. "Let's go upstairs."

"Give me two minutes to lock up," the man told her. The woman kissed him lingeringly. "Give me one minute."

The woman walked upstairs.

The man walked off.

In the painting, the eyes of the father followed the woman. He turned his head to watch the man lock up.

The man looked around as if he had heard something. He continued to key the security code in.

§

Staircase

Someone was slowly walking upstairs, hearing the woman's face. "If you don't worry up, I'm gonna start without you!"

§

Bedroom

The woman was lying in bed.

A shadow appeared in the bedroom doorway.

The woman smiled.

A gust of wind blew out her bedside candle.

§

Staircase

The man walked up the stairs, undoing his trousers.

§

Bedroom

The man walked into the darkened bedroom. "Babe, get the lights. I can't see a thing." He threw his shirt aside, kneeling on the bed, creating a squishing noise. "You spill something?" He leaned to turn on the bedside lamp. His hand was dripping with blood. "Ann?" Ann was lying on the bed, covered in blood, her throat slit, her eyes open and staring. "Ann? Ann!"

The man fell back onto the floor, freaking out.

A shadow appeared over the man.

The man turned to look, screaming.

§ Worlds Colliding (Supernatural) §

Day Two

Night - Bar

(Song:) Night Time - Steve Carlson

There was a live band in the bar.

People were dancing, mingling and drinking.

Catty was one of the people, dancing mildly to the mid-tempo beat.

Dean was sitting at the bar with a girl.

"3-4-2-0," the girl told him.

Dean typed the numbers into his phone. "3-4-2-0. All right. You're in there." He put his phone away. "Perfect. So, is that Brandy with a 'Y' or an 'I'?"

Sam was sitting at a table, looking for the next job in newspapers, waving Catty and Dean over.

Catty gave Sam a look, still dancing.

Dean gave Sam a 'Wait' gesture.

The girl spoke to Dean indistinctly.

Dean laughed.

Sam waved them over more impatiently.

Dean let his smile fade, looking at the girl. "All right, listen. I gotta go. Hold that thought. I'll be right back, okay?"

Catty sighed in defeat, walking toward Sam. "You do realize that you are not in college anymore, right?" 

"Bite me," Sam told her. Dean walked closer. "All right, so, I think I got something."

"Oh, yeah, me, too," Dean told them. "I think we need to take a little shore leave for just a little bit." He looked toward the girl he had just been talking to. "What do you think, huh? I'm so in the door with this one here." 

"So, what are we today, Dean?" Catty asked. "Are we rock stars? Are we Army Rangers?" 

"We're LA TV scouts looking for people with special skills," Dean answered. Catty chuckled, shaking her head, taking a drink. "But, hey, it's not that far off, right?" Dean looked at Sam. "By the way, she's got a friend over there. I can probably hook you up. What do you think?" 

"Dean, uh, no thanks," Sam told him. "I can get my own dates."

"Yeah, you can," Dean agreed. 'But you don't." 

"What is that supposed to mean?" Sam asked. 

"Nothing," Dean told him. He looked at Catty. "Yeah, you know, come to think of it, you hardly ever get into something serious, either." 

"Look who's talking," Catty replied. "Sorry if I'm not that into one night stands like you. What's the point of building something if you can't stick around to finish it?" 

Dean tilted his head in acknowledgement. "Point taken. But then why do you keep trying to set me up with Ness?"

"Maybe because Ness is already a hunter in the hunting life, and Ness knows the truth so she's not easily scared away," Catty answered. "Because Ness can help out in our day/night jobs. I don't have a Ness like you do."

"Yeah, well, Ness is back in Sioux Falls, half in and half out of the hunting life," Dean told them. "So technically I don't have a Ness either. Besides, Ness is better off without me in her life."

"You really believe that?" Catty asked. "Why don't you let Ness decide for herself?"

Hesitating, Dean looked at Sam. "What do you got?" 

"Mark and Ann Telesca of New Paltz, New York, were both found dead in their home just a few days ago," Sam told them. Dean looked toward the girls, no longer paying attention. "Throats were slit, there were no prints, no murder weapons, all—" Sam noticed. "Dean?" Dean looked at them. "No prints, no murder weapons, all doors and windows were locked from the inside."

"Could just be a garden variety murder," Catty told them. "You know, not our department."

"No, Dad says different," Sam told them.

"What do you mean?" Catty asked. 

Sam turned John's journal to face them. "Look. Dad noted three murders in the same area of upstate New York. First one, right here, 1912. The second one in 1945, and the third in 1970. The same MO as the Telescas. The throats were slit, the houses were locked from the inside. So much time passed between the murders that nobody checked the pattern except for Dad. He always kept his eyes peeled for another one."

"And now we got one," Catty told them. 

"Exactly," Sam told them.

"All right," Catty told them. "I'm with you. It's worth checking out. Dean?" 

"Yeah," Dean answered. "We can't pick this up till first thing, though, right?" 

"Yeah," Catty answered.

"Good," Dean told them, standing, walking toward the girls.

"Dean..." Sam trailed off. 

Dean ignored him, walking toward the girls. "Ladies, did you miss me?"

Catty scoffed softly, shaking her head. 

"Well, yeah," Brandy answered.

"I'm just kidding," Dean told them. "Listen, I talked to my producers, and it is looking good."

"Great," Brandy told him. "Cool."

Sam rolled his eyes.

Catty chuckled under her breath.

§

New Paltz, New York 

Day Three

Morning - Street - The Impala

Dean was sleeping in the backseat of the Impala. 

Sam and Catty stood next to the front seat windows, Sam at the passenger seat, Catty at the driver's.

Catty smiled, honking the horn to wake Dean up.

Dean startled awake, looking around. 

Catty laughed, getting into the driver's seat. 

"Oh, Cat, that's so not cool," Dean told her.

Sam got into the passenger seat. "I thought it was." Catty smiled. "We just swept the Telesca house with the EMF, and the black light, and the night vision camera. It's clean. And last night, while you were... out..."

Dean smiled tiredly, chuckling. "Oh, good times." 

"We checked the history of the house," Sam told him. "No hauntings, no violent crimes, nothing strange about the Telescas themselves, either."

"All right, so if it's not the people and it's not the house, then maybe it's the contents," Dean told them. "A cursed object or something."

Catty shook her head. "House is clean."

 "Sam said that," Dean told her. 

"No, I mean, it's empty," Catty told him. "No furniture, nothing." 

Dean looked at Sam and Catty in confusion. "Where's all their stuff?" 

§

Auction House - Outside - Parking Lot

(Song:) Romantic Piece, No. 1 - Antonin Dvorak

There was a line of expensive cars, ending on the dust covered Impala.

There were upper class people mingling.

§

Inside

Sam, Dean and Catty wandered around, looking out of place in their casual clothing.

Dean took finger food from a tray.

One elder man in a suit especially watched them pass, excusing himself from his friend, an elder woman, walking toward them.

"Silent auctions, estate sales," Catty told them. "It's like a garage sale for WASPs, if you ask me."

Dean took more food from a tray on a table.

The man approached them from behind. "Can I help you with something?"

Catty, Dean and Sam turned to face the man.

Dean took another bite, putting on a posh voice. "I'd like some champagne, please."

"He's not a waiter," Sam told him. He looked at the man. "I'm Sam Connors." He offered a hand that the man didn't shake. "This is my brother, Dean, and my sister, Catty. We are art dealers with Connors Limited."

"You're art dealers?" the man repeated skeptically.

"That's right," Catty told him. 

"I'm Daniel Blake," the man told them. "This is my auction house. Now, this is a private showing, and I don't remember seeing you on the guest list." 

"We're there, Chuckles," Dean told him. "You just need to take another look." He turned to see a waiter passing by with a tray of wine glasses. "Oh, finally." He took a glass, looking at Daniel smugly. "Cheers." 

Sam, Dean and Catty walked away, looking over the Telesca home effects that were already on sale. 

Catty noticed the painting from the Telesca house at the beginning.

Sam and Dean stood next to Catty.

A woman in an expensive black dress approached them. "A fine example of American primitive, wouldn't you say?"

Catty and Dean turned to face the woman.

Dean hit Sam on the shoulder.

Sam turned to face the woman. "Well, I'd say it's more Grant Wood than Grandma Moses." The woman looked down with a knowing smile. "But you knew that. You just wanted to see if I did." 

"Guilty," the woman told him. Sam smiled. "And clumsy. I apologize." The waiter approached them with a tray of snack food. Dean took one, taking a bite. "I'm Sarah Blake."

"I'm Sam," Sam told her. "This is my brother, Dean. And my sister, Catty." 

"Hi," Catty told her. 

Sarah looked at Dean. "Can we get you some more mini quiche?"

Dean shook his head. "Mm-mm. I'm good. Thanks." 

"So, can I help you with something?" Sarah asked.

"Yeah, actually," Sam answered. "What can you tell us about the Telesca Estate?" 

"The whole thing's pretty grisly, if you ask me, selling their things this soon," Sarah told them. "But Dad's right about one thing. Sensationalism brings out the crowds. Even the rich ones."

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

Daniel approached them. "I'm afraid there isn't any chance of that." 

"Why not?" Catty asked.

A guy dressed casually but still in more expensive clothes than Catty, Dean and Sam stood nearby, over hearing the conversation.

"You're not on the guest list, and I think it's time to leave," Daniel answered. 

"Well, we don't have to be told twice," Dean told him. 

"Apparently, you do," Daniel replied. 

"Okay, it's all right," Sam told him. "We don't want any trouble. We'll go." 

The guy stood on the other side of Catty, looking at Daniel. "No, it's all right. I invited them."

Daniel looked at the guy skeptically. "You know them?" 

"Yeah," the guy told him. Catty, Dean and Sam exchanged a look, careful to keep their faces clear so they didn't give anything away. "We go way back, don't we, guys?"

"Sure," Catty told them. "Oh, yeah. It's, like, a school thing, you know." 

Daniel exhaled in defeat, looking at the guy in disappointment. "Brett, for once, stop causing me grief."  

Daniel walked away.

Sarah gave Brett a look.

Brett smirked.

Sarah looked at Catty, Dean and Sam. "Have fun getting to know my brother Brett." She sighed, turning around, following Daniel. "Dad, that was just rude."

Catty looked at Brett. "That was nice."

"Anything to give Daniel some hell," Brett told them.

"Ouch," Sam told him. "First name basis with the old man? Sounds pretty grim."

"That's an understatement," Brett told them. He turned to face them. "But, you know, it'd be nice to know the names of the people I just saved without knowing."

Brett looked at Catty.

Catty smiled a small smile. "I'm Catty. Winchester."

"Brett Blake," Brett told them.

Catty looked at Brett, nodding slightly toward her brothers. "These are my brothers, Dean and Sam. Winchester."

Dean and Sam exchanged a knowing look, smirking.

"Well, Catty, Dean and Sam, stay as long as you want, just to piss Daniel off, if you'd like," Brett told them. "If not, I can direct you to the best clubs or the places to stay around here until you move on t wherever it is you're planning on heading off to." 

"And what makes you think that we're not staying?" Catty asked.

"Because people like you never do," Brett answered

"'People like you'?" Catty repeated in amusement. "And what's that supposed to mean?" 

"Travelers," Brett answered. "I might know you very well, but you all look the type." 

"Well, I say that we could use a little tour guide," Sam told them. "What do you think, Cat?" 

Catty gave Sam a look, looking at Brett, smiling. 

§

Night - Club

(Song:) Dare You to Move - Switchfoot

Sam, Dean and Catty were sitting at a table, drinking.

"And what was the providence?" Dean asked.

"Provenance," Sam corrected. "It's a certificate of origin, like a biography, you know? We can use them to track the history of the pieces, see if anything's got a freaky past."

"We're not getting anything out of Chuckles, and Sarah looks like she listens to everything Daddy Dearest tells her, but, uh, Brett..." Dean trailed off.

"Sarah's sort of like you, right, Dean?" Sam asked.

Dean smirked sarcastically. "Bite me."

Sam smirked. "What do you think, Cat? You think you could talk to Brett?" 

"Yeah," Catty said sarcastically. "Maybe I could get Brett to write it on a cocktail napkin." She laughed. "Yeah, no. Pickups are Dean's thing, Sam." 

"It doesn't have to be a pickup," Dean told her.

"In other words, you want me to use Brett to get information," Catty told him.

"Sometimes you got to take one for the team," Dean told her.

"Oh, I don't know," Catty said sarcastically. "You know, I'd rather go get another round from the bar." 

"Catty, we should be go getting another motel," Sam told her. "You know, getting another joined room, so that if we get attacked while there, we are prepared and ready to act on a second's notice, and, also on the plus side, we have an escape plan. We should go find one of those rooms before something happens." 

"You really know how to have fun and how to be an eternal optimist, don't you, Grandma?" Catty asked sarcastically.

"Catty, the bartender's been eyeing you because he knows that your ID's fake," Sam told her. "You're not even supposed to be able to drink." 

"Locally," Catty corrected. "And that's not, 'I want to bust you for sporting a fake ID' look. That's a, 'You do not want to know what that look means' look. Just let me get my drink, and we'll be out of here soon. Okay?" 

"All right," Sam told them.

Catty walked up to the bar, setting out her fake ID for the bartender.

The bartender turned away, waving for someone else to come take Catty's order, walking away.

Catty watched him go, giving him a what the hell? look, looking at the new bartender that was approaching her. "Oh." Brett smirked. "Brett. Hi." 

"Hi," Brett told her. "Two times in one day. Lucky me." 

"Your dad runs a art dealership, and you work at a club?" Catty asked. 

"Like I said, anything to piss off the old man," Brett told her. "But he raised me to go into the art business, like he raised Sarah to do the same. I might know the ropes of the industry, but couldn't care less." 

"What'd he do that was so bad?" Catty asked.

"Oh, you don't want to know," Brett told her, picking up her ID. He looked at Catty, amused and intrigued. "Says here you're 25."

"Uh-huh," Catty told him.

"See, the problem is, I don't believe you," Brett told her. "I might need a little more proof than that." 

Catty took out some money, sliding it toward Brett. "How's that for proof, Brett? Say, around 30 proof." 

"Not the proof that I was talking about," Brett told her. Catty smiled. "Anyway, taking your money would be an offense to me. I own this place." 

Catty smirked. "You do?" 

"Uh-huh," Brett answered.

"Well, I gotta say, Brett, nice place," Catty told him. 

"Yeah," Brett told her. "Guess so." He poured a drink, sliding it toward her. Catty pulled out her wallet. "Don't worry about it. On the house." 

Catty looked up, smiling. "Thanks."

Brett smirked, looking away. "So, what brings you here?" 

"Work," Catty answered.

"Don't told me that you're an art dealer," Brett told her.

"I prefer the term 'consultant'," Catty told him. "Give advice about what to do and what not to do, and destroy things if necessary." 

"You're not like any art 'consultant' I've ever met," Brett told her. 

Catty didn't answer, taking a drink. "So... what did you mean when you said that you would do anything to piss off your dad and that I didn't want to know what he did?" 

"It's not exactly what he did," Brett explained. "Just what he did afterward." 

"After what?" Catty asked.

Brett sighed. "My mom. She died about a year ago. Totally unexpected. It really threw me. My sister, Sarah, closed everything off. My dad pretended like nothing happened. Like it didn't matter. Sold her stuff the first chance he got, like her memory was a stain on the house." Catty looked at him sympathetically. "And, hence, the rebelliousness and anger issues. So... what about you?"

Catty sighed. "Well, let's just say that I know what it's like to lose one parent and hardly see the other, Brett. My mom died when I was a baby. I have this one, horrible memory, but it's in pieces that I can barely make out. But I'm close with my dad. He just hasn't been around. Work, so..." 

"Yeah," Brett told her.

"Yeah," Catty told him, taking a drink. "Brett, you want another excuse to piss your dad off?" 

Brett smirked, looking tempted.

(Song Ends)

§

Hotel Room

Sam and Dean walked into the room, closing the door behind them.

The 'do not disturb' door hanger was a silver outline of John Travolta from Saturday Night Fever.

The room was an over the top retro '70s disco fantasy room. The table and chairs were silver. The room's diving doors to the other room were opaque, with silver rings painted onto them. The lighting fixtures were orbs. The relaxing chairs were silver and white. The table next to it had alcohol glasses. There was a dresser with lava lamps and an old fashioned radio. The walls and the bed sheets were white and black circles.

Dean and Sam seemed to like it. "Huh."

They walked forward, putting their bags onto their beds.

Dean looked at Sam. "Grant Wood, Grandma Moses, what?"

"Art history course," Sam told him. "It's good for meeting girls."

"It's like I don't even know you," Dean told him. He laid back onto his bed. "So, where'd Catty make it off to?"

"I don't know," Sam told him. "She was talking to Brett at the club, and she said she'd meet us back here."

Dean smirked. "Yeah, I bet she will."

§

Later

Catty was sitting in one of the relaxing chairs, going through papers.

Dean was sharpening a knife, looking at Catty. "So, he just handed the providences over to you?" 

"Provenances," Sam corrected. 

"Provenances?" Dean repeated.

"Yes," Sam answered. He looked at Catty. "What took you so long? Why did you say to meet back here?" 

"'Cause we went back to Brett's place," Catty answered. "I got a copy of the papers."

"And?" Dean asked. 

"And nothing," Catty answered. "That's it. I left." 

"You didn't have to con Brett or do any special favors?" Dean asked. 

"Dean, would you get your mind out of the gutter, please?" Sam asked.

Dean chuckled.

Catty shook her head. "Nope. Brett just wanted an excuse to piss his dad off, and he did. So, that's a win in our book, and in his." 

"When this whole thing's done, we could stick around a bit," Dean told her. 

"Why?" Catty asked.

"So you could go on an actual date with Brett rather than just running into each other at the bar," Dean answered. "It's obvious Brett's into you, and that you're into him."

"Even I can see that, Cat," Sam told her.

"Bite me," Catty told them, looking over the papers. "Hey, all right. I think I got something here." 

Catty smirked, handing Sam the papers.

Sam read from them. "'Portrait of Isaiah Merchant's family, painted 1910.'"

"Now compare the names of the owners with Dad's journal," Catty told them. 

Sam walked around Catty, sitting down, comparing the names. "'First purchased in 1912 to Peter Sims'." Catty pointed at Peter Sims' name in the journal. "Peter Sims murdered, 1912." Sam checked the next date and name. "Same thing in 1945. Oh, same thing in 1970."

"Then stored, until it was donated to a charity auction last month, where the Telescas bought it," Catty told them. "So, what do you think? It's haunted or cursed?" 

"Either way, it's toast," Dean told them.

Catty smirked. 

§

Auction House - Outside

Sam, Dean and Catty climbed the iron fence to the auction house, running toward the door to avoid from being caught.

Sam was hacking into the alarm system so they could get inside. "Go ahead." 

Dean picked the lock, opening the door, leading the way inside.

§

Inside

Catty, Dean and Sam looked around until they found the painting on the balcony above them, walking up the spiral staircase, toward the painting of the family that they had noticed before. 

Dean cut the painting out of the frame, walking outside.

Sam and Catty followed.

§

Outside

The painting was lying on the dirt ground in front of Sam, Catty and Dean.

"Ugly-ass thing," Catty told them, lighting a match. "If you ask me, we're doing the art world a favor." 

Catty dropped the match onto the painting.

The painting was set on fire instantly, burning into nothing. 

§

Auction House

The painting reformed in the frame, as if it had never been destroyed.

§

Day Four

Morning - Hotel Room

Sam and Dean were getting ready to leave in the hotel room in their side of the room. They had their back to Catty's side of the room, who was getting ready to leave with the doors open. They were smirking as if they were up to something.

Catty walked into their side with bags over her shoulder. 

"We got a problem," Dean told them. "I can't find my wallet." 

"How's that our problem?" Catty asked. 

"'Cause I think I dropped it in the warehouse last night," Dean answered. 

Catty knew the problem, worried and exasperated. "You're kidding, right?"

"I mean, it's got my prints, my ID," Dean told them, pulling on his jacket. "Well, my fake ID, anyway."

"We got to get it before someone else finds it," Sam told them, leading the way toward the door. "Come on." 

§

Auction House

Catty, Sam and Dean walked into the action house, hurrying around, looking for Dean's wallet. 

"How do you lose your wallet, Dean?" Catty asked, frustrated.

Sam and Dean exchanged a knowing, amused, mischievous look.

Brett, Sarah and Daniel were seen at the top of the spiral stair case, looking like they were arguing.

"Brett--" Daniel started.

Brett waved Daniel off in annoyance, walking downstairs, seeing Catty, Sam and Dean. "Hey, guys."

Catty, Sam and Dean turned to face Brett, trying to act casual.

"Brett," Catty told him. "Hey." 

"What are you doing here?" Brett asked. 

"Uh, we—we're leaving town, and, you know, we came to say goodbye," Catty told him. 

"What are you talking about, Catty?" Sam asked. "We're sticking around for at least another day or two."

Catty looked at Sam in confusion.

Dean walked toward Catty. "Oh, by the way, Cat, I wanted to give you that 20 bucks I owe you." He pulled out his wallet, looking at Catty significantly, pulling out a 20 dollar bill. "I always forget." Catty looked at him in frustrated realization, giving him a look. Sam smiled. Catty pressed her lips together, disbelieving. Dean chuckled, handing Catty the money. "There you go." 

Catty took the money, giving Sam and Dean a look, knowing that they had set this up so they could get her and Brett together.

Sam looked at Brett. "Well, we'll leave you two crazy kids alone. We got to go do... something... somewhere." 

Sam and Dean looked at Catty smugly, pleased with themselves. 

Catty nodded sarcastically. 

Sam and Dean walked away quickly, leaving.

Catty looked at Brett, shaking her head in disbelief. "I'm gonna kill them."

"Let me guess," Brett told her. "Family overstepping boundaries."

"Oh, yeah," Catty answered. "Brett... I had a good time last night." 

"Yeah," Brett agreed. "Yeah, I did, too. Maybe we should do it again sometime?" 

"Well, like they said, we're taking off in a couple of days," Catty told him. "So..." 

"So it'd have to be soon," Brett finished.

"Yeah," Catty answered. 

"I think we could pull that off," Brett told her.

Catty smiled, noticing Sarah carrying the painting behind Brett, in perfect condition, the smile fading in complete shock. "Oh, my God!" 

Sarah put the painting down, looking at Catty in confusion. "What?"

Catty hesitated, trying to come up with a story, putting her hand to her head awkwardly. "That... that painting... looks terrible." 

"I'll call that an understatement," Brett told her.

Catty lowered her hand to her side. "Sarah, what do you know about that painting?" 

"Not much," Sarah answered. "Just that it creeps me out. We sold it to the Telescas at a charity auction the night they were murdered."

"And now you're just gonna sell it again?" Catty asked. 

"As much as our dad wants to, no," Sarah answered. "Brett and I won't let him. Both of us think it'd be in bad taste." 

"Good," Catty told them. "Yeah. You know what? Don't. Don't. Make sure you don't, okay?" 

"Why?" Brett asked. "Don't tell me you're interested in that." 

"No, God, no," Catty answered. "Not in buying it, no. I got to go. I got to take care of something. Brett, um, I will call you back. I will call you. I'll see you later." 

Catty turned around, walking out quickly, leaving.

Sarah stepped closer to Brett, watching Catty go in confusion. "Brett? Does she seem a little peculiar to you?"

Brett smirked. "That's what I like about her."

§

Outside - The Impala

Sam, Catty and Dean were sitting in the Impala. 

"I don't understand, Catty," Sam told her. "We burned the damn thing." 

"Yeah, thank you, Captain Obvious," Catty told him. "We just need to figure out another way to get rid of it. Any ideas?" 

"Okay, all right," Sam told them. "Well, um, in almost all the lore about haunted paintings, it's always the painting's subject that haunts them."

"Yeah?" Dean asked. "All right. So we need to figure out everything there is to know about that creepy-ass family in that creepy-ass painting. What were their names again?" 

§

Library

Sam, Dean and Catty were here.

A man who worked there set down several books on the table in front of them. "You said the Isaiah Merchant family, right?" 

"Yeah, that's right," Sam answered. 

"I dug up every scrap of local history I could find," the man told them, opening the biggest book. "So, uh, are you guys crime buffs?" 

"Kind of," Dean answered. "Why do you ask?" 

"Well..." the man trailed off, pulling out a large newspaper article, pointing at a side-headline.

Father slaughters family, kills self. 

"Yes," Catty answered. "Yeah, that sounds about right." 

"The whole family was killed?" Sam asked. 

"It seems this Isaiah, he slits his kids' throats, then his wife, then himself," the man explained. "Now, he was a barber by trade. Used a straight razor."

"Why'd he do it?" Sam asked. 

"Well, let's look," the man told them, reading from the newspaper. "Uh, 'People who knew him described Isaiah as having a stern and harsh temperament, and controlled his family with an iron fist.' Wife, two sons, adopted daughter, yeah, yeah. There were whispers that the wife was gonna take the kids and leave, which, of course, you know, in that day and age... So, instead, old man Isaiah, well, he gave them all a shave."

Dean looked at the man. "Does it say what happened to the bodies?" 

"They were all cremated," the man answered. 

Catty sighed. "Anything else?" 

"Yeah," the man answered. "Actually, I found a picture of the family. It's right here somewhere. Right. Here it is." 

The man showed them a similar picture as the painting. 

Isaiah wasn't looking at the little girl, the adopted daughter, but looking straight ahead. 

Dean, Sam and Catty exchanged a look.

"Hey, could we get a copy of this, please?" Catty asked. 

"Sure," the man answered. 

Catty nodded. 

§

Auction House

Daniel watched workers pack the painting into a moving crate.

Sarah and Brett walked closer.

"Dad," Sarah told him. "You promised you wouldn't see that painting."

"I know, but Evelyn's offered a persuasive amount of money," Daniel told them.

"You're shameless," Brett told him. "You know that?"

Daniel smirked. "For that sort of money, I can afford to be."

"You know, that's exactly what you said when you gave Mom's stuff away," Brett told him.

Daniel seemed thoughtful. "I should plagiarize myself more often."

Brett looked at Daniel in disgust, annoyed and irritated, shaking his head in disbelief, walking away, leaving.

Sarah looked at Daniel in disbelief, following her brother. "Brett..."

§

Night - Hotel Room

Dean, Sam and Catty went back to the hotel.

Sam was sitting in one of the relaxing chairs.

Dean was standing.

Catty was sitting at the table nearby the window. "I'm telling you, guys, I'm sure of it. The painting at the auction house, Dad is looking down. The painting here, Dad's looking out. The painting has changed, guys." 

"So you think that Daddy Dearest is trapped in the painting, and he's handing out Colombian Neckties like he did with his family?" Dean asked.

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

"All right, well, if Isaiah's position changed, then maybe some other things in the painting changed, as well," Dean told them. "It could give us some clues." 

"Like a 'Da Vinci Code' deal?" Sam asked. 

"I don't know," Dean told them. "I'm still waiting for the movie on that one. Anyway, we got to get back in and see that painting." He looked at Catty. "Which is a good thing, because you can get more time to crush on your boyfriend Brett." 

"Bitches, enough already," Catty told them. 

Dean fell back onto one of the beds. "What?" 

"'What'?" Catty repeated. "Ever since we got here, you two've been pimping me out to Brett. Just back off, all right?"  

"Well, you like him, don't you?" Sam asked. Catty looked away in annoyance. Sam smirked. "All right, you like Brett. Brett likes you. You're both barely past the limit of consenting adults." Catty looked at him in confusion. Sam smirked. "Yep. We know he's 20 owning a club."

"What's the point, guys?" Catty asked. "We'll just leave. We always leave. You know, I don't get it. What do you care if I hook up?"

"Because there will come the day where you're not gonna want to keep doing what you're doing," Sam answered. Catty scoffed, looking away. "Cat, do you think that we don't notice the way that you are with little kids? How practically maternal you are? It doesn't take a genius to figure out that you want a life like that. You know, maybe you could actually have a life like that when we're done killing the Demon that killed Mom and Jessica. Fall in love, have kids, have a nice, normal, safe apple pie life. Maybe you could actually have that with Brett."

"Oh, God, kill me now," Catty told them, looking away, leaning against the wall behind her. 

"Seriously, Catty, this isn't about just hooking up, okay?" Dean asked, sitting up on the bed. "I think that this Brett guy could be good for you. I mean, I have to agree with Sam on this one." 

"Do you guys remember what it was like?" Catty asked.

"Remember what?" Sam asked. 

"Just the limited number of years you guys had of a nice, normal, safe apple pie life," Catty answered. She looked at Dean. "You had eight years of it." She looked at Sam. "You had four."

"Yeah," Dean agreed. "So?" 

"So, I was a baby," Catty told them. "The only thing that I can remember from that part of our lives was the fire. So, my memories literally started with pain and death, grief and sadness, always on the move, and never knowing anything different. You know, except for the years that you guys kept the secret from me, which didn't last very long. I don't remember it. You guys do. I never really had a home. You guys did. This is the life that I was born into and raised with. It's the life that I'm probably gonna be stuck with for the rest of it." 

Catty stood, walking out of their side of the room into hers, starting to close the double doors. 

"All right, hold up," Dean told her. "We still got to see that painting, which means you still got to call Brett, so..."  Catty rolled her eyes, closing the double doors. Dean pursed his lips, nodding awkwardly, looking at Sam. "All right, that could've gone better."

"She's got a point, Dean," Sam told him.

Dean sighed, lying back down. "I know she does."

Sam looked toward Catty's doors, seeming sympathetic.

§

Catty's Side of the Room

Catty sighed, turning away from the doors, taking out her phone, making a call. "Brett, hey. It's Catty. Yeah, I'm good. What about you? So, uh, so listen. My and my brothers were thinking that maybe we'd like to come back in and look at the painting again. I don't know what the hell my brothers are thinking, but they are interested in buying it. Wait, what? Who'd he sell it to? Brett, I need an address right now." 

§

Mansion

The elder woman that had been talking to Daniel near the beginning at the auction house was sitting, reading in her lounge.

The painting on the wall above the fireplace revealed that she was the woman that the Blakes had been talking about, Evelyn.

Isaiah turned his head, watching Evelyn.

Evelyn put her book down, placing her glasses on top of it, picking up her cup of tea.

In her glasses, a reflection of a straight razor was sliding past.

Evelyn heard a shuffling noise, looking up, gasping in horror.

§

Evelyn's Mansion - Outside

The Impala pulled up to the house quickly. Sam, Dean and Catty got out instantly.

There was a car waiting in the driveway.

Brett walked closer to them. "Catty, what's happening?" 

Catty raised her arms in a shrug, slightly exasperated. "Brett. I told you you shouldn't have come."

"Yeah, you can tell how well I listen to directions," Brett told them. 

Dean, Sam and Catty ran onto the porch with Brett following, knocking on the door. 

"Hello, anybody home?" Sam called. 

"You said Evelyn might be in danger," Brett told them. "What kind of danger?" 

"I can't knock this sucker down," Dean told them. "I got to pick it." 

Dean started to pick the lock. 

Sam walked away to try to find an open window. 

"What are you guys, burglars?" Brett asked. 

"I wish it was that simple," Catty told him. "Brett, you really should wait in the car. It's for your own good." 

Dean picked the lock, opening the door, walking inside. 

Sam and Catty followed.

Brett followed. "The hell I will."

§

Inside

Brett led the way inside. "Evelyn? Evelyn!" They walked into the living room to see Evelyn sitting in a chair next to the painting. "Evelyn?" Evelyn didn't answer. They walked closer. "Evelyn? It's Brett Blake. Are you all right?" 

Brett reached out to touch Evelyn's shoulder.

"Brett, don't," Catty told him. "Brett!" 

Evelyn's head tilted back, revealing that the throat had been slit down to the bone.

Brett looked at it in shocked horror, taking an involuntary step back. "What the hell?" 

In the painting, the father looked from the little girl to straight ahead. 

Brett saw that too, in disbelief. 

Catty looked at Sam and Dean regretfully.

§

Day Five

Morning - Hotel Room

Sam and Dean were sitting at the table.

Catty was standing.

There was a knock on the door. 

Catty walked toward it, opening it for Brett. "Hey." Brett walked in. "You all right?" 

"Not exactly," Brett answered. "I just lied to the cops and told them I went to Evelyn's alone and found her like that. Dad trusts me less now more than ever, no big loss there, but Sarah is doing everything she can to convince the cops that I am not a suspect."

Dean smirked.

Sam looked relieved. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me," Brett told them. "I'm about to call them right back if you don't tell me what the hell is going on. Who's killing these people?" 

Catty looked at Dean and Sam.

Dean and Sam shrugged.

Catty looked at Brett. "'What'." 

"What?" Brett asked. 

"It's not 'who'," Catty told him. "It's 'what' is killing those people." Brett looked at her in confusion. "Brett, you saw that painting move." 

Brett chuckled. "No. No, I was seeing things. It's impossible." 

"Yeah, well, welcome to our world," Dean told him. 

"Brett, I know this sounds crazy... but we think that painting is haunted," Catty told him. 

Brett chuckled without humor. "You're joking." They didn't answer. "You're not joking. God, the girls I go out with."

"Brett, think about it," Catty told him. "Evelyn, the Telescas, 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." 

"Well, then, I guess you better show me," Brett told them, walking toward the door. "I'm coming with you." 

"What?" Catty asked, turning to face Brett. "No. Brett, no. You should just go home. This stuff can get dangerous, and..."

"And my family is responsible for selling a haunted painting to two dead families," Brett told her. "If anyone should do something about it, it's gonna be me." He opened the door.  "So are we going or what?" 

Brett walked out. 

"Catty..." Dean trailed off. Catty looked at him. "Out of all the guys that found out the truth, Brett acted the most man about it. He didn't scream, didn't cry, didn't throw a bitch fit, like every other guy that found out. So..."  Dean pointed after Brett. "Marry that guy."

Catty looked up in annoyance, walking out.

§

Evelyn's Mansion - Outside

Catty picked the lock. 

"You guys used to breaking into crime scenes?" Brett asked.

"Crime scenes, houses, auction warehouses, insane asylums..." Dean trailed off. "Take your pick. What's another infraction?" 

Sam cut the tape on the door so they could get in, walking inside.

§

Inside - Living Room

Sam grabbed the painting off of the wall, placing it against a chair, leaning closer to the painting. 

"Aren't you worried that it's gonna, you know, pop out and kill you?" Brett asked, making a slicing motion against his neck, mimicking the sound. 

Dean chuckled. 

Sam gave Dean and Brett a look. 

Dean and Brett returned serious. 

Catty smirked, rolling her eyes, shaking her head. "It seems to do its thing at night. I think we're all right in daylight." 

Dean was looking at the original picture. "Guys, check it out." They looked at him. Dean showed it to them. "The razor, it's closed in this one, but it's open in that one."

"What are you guys looking for?" Brett asked. 

"If the Spirit's changing aspects of the painting, maybe it's doing so for a reason," Dean explained. 

Sam took the original picture, comparing them. "Hey, hey, look at this. The painting in the painting." In the painting in the original picture, it was a landscape of mountains. In the painting in the painting, it was a mausoleum. "It looks like a crypt or a mausoleum or something."

Catty took a magnifying glass off a nearby table, holding it in front of the table to look through the glass to the name on the mausoleum.

Merchant. 

§

Cemetery

Sam, Dean, Catty and Brett walked along. Sam and Dean led the way. Catty and Brett hung back.

"This is the third boneyard we've checked," Dean told them. "This Ghost is jerking us around."

Brett looked at Catty. "So, this is what you guys do for a living?" 

"Not exactly," Catty answered. "We don't get paid." 

"Well, mazel tov," Brett told her. 

Sam found the crypt from the painting. "Over there." 

They walked closer, using bolt cutters to cut through the chains, opening the doors, walking inside.

§

Mausoleum

There were glass cases on one of the walls with dolls, and urns underneath them. 

On the opposite wall, there were plagues for each one of the family members that had died. 

Catty looked at the last doll on the left. "Okay, that right there is the creepiest thing I've ever seen, and I've seen some creepy-ass stuff." 

"You're scared of dolls, but not Ghosts or haunted paintings?" Brett asked in amusement.

"Not scared of, disturbed by," Catty told him. She looked at the dolls. "God, why would anyone want these creepy things?"  

"It was sort of a tradition at the time," Sam answered. "Whenever a child died, sometimes they'd preserve the kid's favorite toy in a glass case, put it next to the headstone in the crypt."

Dean looked around. "Notice anything strange here?" 

"Uh, where do I start?" Brett asked. 

"No, that's not what I mean," Dean told them. "Look at the urns."

"Yeah, there are only four," Sam agreed. 

"Mom and the three kids," Catty told them. "Daddy Dearest isn't here." 

"So where is he?" Sam asked. 

They didn't have an answer. 

§

City Hall - Outside

Brett and Catty were sitting on a small wall, waiting for Sam and Dean.

"Catty, what exactly are your brothers doing in there?" Brett asked. 

"Searching through county death certificates, trying to find out what happened to Isaiah's body," Catty answered. 

"How'd they even get in the door?" Brett asked. 

Catty chuckled. "Lying and subterfuge, mostly. Posing as partners for the FBI."

Brett pointed at his eyebrow. "You have a, um... you have an eyelash on your..." Catty tried to wipe it away. "You have it right—No. Uh, you know what?" They laughed. "Do you mind if I—I mean, will I get my hand cut off or punched in the face?" 

Catty smiled, laughing quietly. "No." 

"Okay," Brett told her, using his thumb to brush the lash away, holding it up for Catty to see. "Okay, I got it. Make a wish." Catty smiled, blowing the lash away. "Catty, can I ask you something?"

"Yeah, sure," Catty answered.

"I don't mean to be forward, but a guy could wait here forever," Brett told her. "Is there something here between us, or am I delusional?" 

"You're not delusional," Catty answered.

"But there's a 'but' coming," Brett realized. 

Catty smiled a small smile. "But... I don't think would be a good idea."

"Can I ask why?" Brett asked. 

"'Cause I'm always on the move," Catty answered. "I mean, every boyfriend that I've gotten, one or two, by the way, because I never had any time to stick around and actually try to build something that I wouldn't be able to finish... I would just end up leaving them in the end, and, normally, it hurts more than I'm willing to admit, Brett. What's the point of starting something that you can't finish because you'll just have to leave in the end?" 

Brett seemed thoughtful.

Sam and Dean ducked into the conversation.

"Are we interrupting something?" Dean asked.

"No," Brett told them.

"Not at all," Catty told them.

"Apparently," Sam told them sarcastically.

"Okay, you know what?" Catty asked. "One of these times, I'm gonna find a nice little shovel and bash your heads in." 

Dean laughed evilly, looking at Brett. "Oh, she says these things all the time. She's never serious." He reconsidered, looking up, hesitating. "Half the time." 

"So, what'd you get?" Brett asked.

"Pay dirt," Sam told them. "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." 

"So there are bones to burn," Catty realized. 

"There are bones to burn," Sam answered.

"Tell me you know where," Catty told them. 

Sam and Dean smiled. 

§

Night - Cemetery - Isaiah's Grave

Sam, Dean and Brett were digging the grave up.

Catty was standing above ground. "You know, Brett, you don't have to do this. This is sort of part of my job." 

"Yeah, well, your job sounds dangerous and tiring," Brett told her. "I figured why not take part of it out of the equation?" 

Dean chuckled, looking at Catty. "Rebel, unafraid and a gentlemen? Sounds like you struck gold here with Brett, kiddo." 

Catty looked at Brett, gesturing to the shovel. "Can I see that real quick?" 

Catty looked at Dean.

Brett climbed out of the grave. 

Dean cleared his throat, shaking his head. "Brett, don't give that to her." 

"Thought you said she wasn't serious half the time," Brett told him.

"Yeah, I did," Dean told him. "The other half, she's deadly serious." 

Catty smirked. 

Sam kept digging until they heard a thud. "I think I got something." 

Sam and Dean continued to dig, finding the pine box of a grave. They stabbed their shovels into it until they broke it open, revealing bones inside. They climbed out of the grave.

Catty walked around the grave, pouring rock salt all over the skeleton. 

"You all seem uncomfortably comfortable with this," Brett told them.

"It's not exactly the first grave we've consecrated," Catty told him, placing down the container of rock salt, picking up the gasoline, splashing it over the rock salt-covered bones. "Still think I'm a catch?" She tossed the jug aside, taking the book of matches out of her pocket. "You been a real pain in the ass, Isaiah." She lit the match. "Good riddance." 

Catty tossed the match into the grave.

The grave immediately set ablaze, burning the skeleton.

They watched the grave burn.

§

Evelyn's Mansion - Outside

The Impala pulled up to the mansion.

Dean was driving. Sam was in the passenger seat.

Catty and Brett were in the backseat.

"Dean, keep the motor running," Catty told him, opening her car door.

"I thought the painting was harmless now," Brett told them.

"Better safe than sorry, Brett," Catty told him. "We're gonna bury the mother." 

"I want to come with you," Brett told her, getting out.

"Brett, you sure?" Sam asked. 

"Yeah," Brett answered, walking toward the house.

Catty started to follow him.

"Hey, hey, hey," Sam told her. Catty looked at Sam and Dean through Sam's open window. "We'll stay here. You go make your move. Or at least let Brett make his move." 

Catty gave Sam and Dean a look. "Where's a shovel when you need one?" 

Catty walked around the car.

"Catty, I'm serious," Sam told her.

Catty turned to face Dean's window, looking inside. "So am I, Sam."

Catty smirked, turning around, walking up the porch steps. 

Dean turned on the radio, trying to set the mood for Brett and Catty.

(Song:) Bad Time (To Be In Love) - Grand Funk Railroad

Brett looked at Sam and Dean in confusion, smirking.

Catty turned around to give Sam and Dean a look. 

Sam was quietly laughing. 

Dean looked at Catty innocently. 

Catty raised her arms in a what the hell gesture.

Sam turned the radio off.

(Song Ends)

Catty turned around, picking the lock to get inside, leading the way. 

Brett followed.

§

Inside - Living Room

Catty and Brett walked into the living room, looking at the painting on the wall, stopping in shock.

"Uh, Catty..." Brett trailed off. "You're the expert on all this Ghost stuff. Is that painting supposed to look like that?" Isaiah was looking out. The little girl was missing. "Where's the little girl?" 

The razor blade on the table was missing. 

"And the razor?" Catty finished. 

All around them, they could hear a little girl's giggling echoing, looking around.

The front door slammed closed, trapping them inside.

§

Outside

Sam and Dean ran up the stairs, starting to shove at the door, but it didn't open.

§

Inside - Foyer

Catty could hear them, running toward it. "Sam! Dean, is that you?" 

"Catty, Brett, you all right?" Dean called. 

Brett walked toward Catty.

They could still hear the little girl giggling as it echoed through the house. 

Catty pulled out her phone, making a call.

Outside, Sam's phone rang. He answered, putting it on speaker for Dean to hear. "Tell me or Brett you slammed the front door."

"No, it wasn't us," Catty answered. "I think it was the little girl."

"Girl?" Sam repeated. "What girl?"

"Yeah, she's out of the painting," Catty told them. "I think it might have been her all along. Wasn't the dad looking down at her? Maybe he was trying to warn us."

"Hey, let's recap later," Brett told them. "Just get us out of here."

Outside, Sam was trying to pick the lock.

"Sam's trying to pick the lock, and the door won't budge," Dean told them.

"Break it down," Brett told them.

"Okay, genius, let me grab my battering ram," Dean told him sarcastically.

"Dean, the damn thing's coming!" Catty told him.

Sam gave up in trying to pick the lock, standing. "You're gonna have to hold it off until we figure something out. Get some salt or iron."

Catty took Brett's hand, running toward the kitchen.

§

Kitchen

Brett was going through drawer's and anything else he could think of, looking for the salt, unable to find any kind of salt.

Catty walked past, still on the phone. "What kind of house doesn't have salt? Low-sodium freaks. Brett, did you find any iron?"

"No," Brett answered. "What's it for?"

"Iron repels evil Spirits, but it's gonna be pure," Catty explained. "Hurry." She spoke into the phone. "Uh, Sam, give me a sec. Don't go anywhere."

§

Outside

Dean walked around, walking around the front porch, looking for entrances.

§

Inside - Living Room

Catty nodded to Brett. "Look at a chair. Sometimes the seats..."  They continued to pour everything they could to find salt. The doors started to slam closed. Wind started to blow around them. The little girl from the painting slowly walked into the room with her doll dragging on the floor behind her and the razor in her hand. "That is just so wrong."

Brett stood straight.

Catty stood in front of Brett, making him back away. They backed into the fireside implements.

Catty grabbed one of the pokers.

The girl's face shivered. She roared.

Catty swung the poker through the little girl, making her disappear.

"Iron?" Brett asked.

Catty nodded. "Yeah."

Dean and Sam were still on the phone.

"Catty, you okay?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, for now," Catty answered.

"How are we gonna waste her?" Dean asked.

"I don't know," Sam told them. "She was already cremated. There's nothing left to burn."

"Well, then, how's she still around?" Catty asked.

Brett seemed to remember something. "Catty, wait. We used to handle antique dolls at the auction."

"Well, that's fascinating, Brett," Catty told him. "But important right now?"

"Back then, they used to make the dolls in the kid's image," Brett explained. "I mean, everything. Like, they would use the kid's real hair." 

Catty spoke into the phone. "Guys? Brett says the doll might have the girl's hair. Human remains. Same as bones." 

Sam, Dean and Catty spoke together. "The mausoleum."

Outside, Sam and Dean walked toward the Impala.

Inside, the lights started to flicker.

The girl started to giggle again. 

The lights went out.

The wind started to blow. 

Catty sighed, holding the iron poker ready, looking around readily. 

§

Cemetery

The Impala raced toward the cemetery, driving through the gates, breaking them down. It continued to drive toward the mausoleum quickly.

§

Evelyn's Mansion - Living Room

The nearby dresser suddenly slid toward Catty forcefully, pushing her against the wall, making her drop the iron poker and fall to the floor, pinned to the wall.

Brett ran closer, trying to pull the dresser away, coming face to face with the little girl. He saw the poker nearby, grabbing it, swinging it through the little girl, making her disappear. He looked at the poker in surprise, as if he couldn't believe he had just did that.

§

Cemetery

The Impala parked outside the mausoleum.

Dean and Sam got out of the car, running into the mausoleum.

§

Mausoleum

Dean pounded at the glass container, smashing at it with the butt of his gun, but it didn't break. He turned back to run to the car.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Come on, Dean."

Sam took Dean's gun, shooting the glass, making it shatter.

Sam and Dean covered their faces to protect them from the glass.

Dean used the gun to knock out the rest of the glass until he could grab the doll.

§

Evelyn's House - Living Room

Brett knelt next to the dresser, trying and failing to push the telekinetically forced-to-be-there dresser.

The little girl was appearing faster and faster than before, using magic to throw Brett into a nearby wall.

§

Mausoleum

Dean grabbed the doll, holding it toward Sam.

Sam had his lighter, trying to light it, but it refused to light. "Come on. Come on!"

§

Evelyn's House - Living Room

Catty reached for the iron poker on the floor, still trapped against the wall. 

The little girl used magic to slide the knife away from her, stalking toward Catty.

§

Mausoleum

Sam's lighter finally caught. He held it under the doll's hair.

The doll's hair began to smoke. It caught fire, burning slowly.

§

Evelyn's House - Living Room

The little girl raised the razor to finish Catty off.

Brett sat up. "Catty!"

Catty tried to push the dresser away, unable to.

Brett slid between Catty and the little girl, protecting Catty with the razor aimed at him.

The little girl went up in flames, disappearing. 

The little girl reappeared in the family painting. 

Brett looked down on Catty, breathing heavily.

Catty smiled a small smile.

Brett sat up, pushing the dresser away, now with complete ease.

Catty sighed, groaning in pain.

Brett helped Catty sit up.

Catty's phone rang. She pulled it out to answer. 

Sam was on the other line, he and Dean watching the doll burn on the floor of the mausoleum. "Cat, you good?"

Catty looked at Brett, tilting her head, shrugging. "Not bad." She hung up, watching the painting return to what the original picture had looked like, with the painting of a mountain range behind Isaiah's head, the dad looking out, and the razor on the table now being closed. Brett leaned back against the wall next to her, both looking exhausted. Catty sighed, shaking her head. "I knew there was a reason I hated that thing."

§

Day Six

Morning - Auction House

Sam, Dean, Catty and Brett stood together, watching the workers put the painting into a box. 

Dean was holding a piece of paper. "This was archived in the county records. The Merchant's adopted daughter, Melanie. Know why she was up for adoption? 'Cause her real family was murdered in their beds."

Sam scoffed, shaking his head.

"She killed them?" Brett asked. 

"Yeah," Dean answered. "Who would suspect her? A 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."

One of the workers looked at Brett. "Where's this one go?" 

"Take it out back and burn it," Brett told them. They looked at him in confusion. "I'm serious, guys. Thanks." The men took the box with the painting away to burn it. Brett looked at Sam, Dean and Catty. "So, why'd the girl do it?" 

"Killing others, killing herself?" Sam asked. "Some people are just born tortured. So, when they die, their Spirits are just as dark."

"Maybe," Dean told them. "I don't really care. It's over. We move on." 

"Uh..." Brett trailed off, sighing. "I guess this means you're leaving." 

Catty smiled a small smile.

Brett looked at Sam and Dean.

Sam and Dean looked at Brett in confusion.

Brett raised his eyebrows slightly.

Sam and Dean understood, nodding. They looked at Catty awkwardly.

"We'll go wait in the car," Sam told them. "See you, Brett." 

Sam and Dean started to walk away.

"We're the ones who burned the doll and destroyed the Spirit, but don't thank us or anything," Dean said sarcastically.

"Let it go," Sam told him. 

Sam and Dean walked outside, leaving.

Catty rolled her eyes, smirking. She looked at Brett, smiling a small smile. "There are a million things that I want to say to you, but for the life of me, I can't think of one, Brett." 

"Yeah, I'll miss you, too," Brett told her.

Catty chuckled, looking down. "You know, there's a lesson in all of this."

"What's that?" Brett asked.

 "We all got through this in one piece," Catty told him. "And, yeah, I might be on the move again, but I can't believe that I actually missed the feeling of getting close to someone again. Yeah, it'll hurt as soon as I leave, but, trust me when I say that I've gone through stuff a whole lot more painful. Maybe it's time to stop closing people off." 

"Maybe it is," Brett agreed. 

Catty sighed, looking down. "Maybe I'll even come back to see you, Brett." 

"I hope so," Brett told her.

Catty smiled, biting her lip slightly.

§

Outside

Sam and Dean were leaning against the Impala. They watched Brett letting Catty out of the auction house, closing the door.

Sam sighed, turning to get into the passenger seat. "Come on, Cat. Just kiss Brett."

Dean shook his head, turning to get into the driver's.

Catty leaned against the door of the auction house, thinking. She turned around, knocking on the door.

Brett opened it, seeing Catty, smiling.

Catty smiled, stepping inside, kissing Brett.

Sam and Dean heard the knock, turning toward the auction house to see Brett and Catty kissing.

Dean smiled. "That's our girl."

Sam chuckled. "I like him. Brett."

"So do I," Dean told him.

Sam and Dean got into the car.

Brett placed a hand on Catty's cheek, kissing her for a few long moments. Catty smiled, kissing him, wrapping an arm around his neck. They continued to kiss in the doorway.