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Jenny and Dean walked into the antique store, both of them walking separate directions. After only a few seconds, Dean called Jenny.
"This is ridiculous. He's crazy, right?" Dean asked, a quiet rustling noise coming from the phone.
"Well, he is your dad. He's never really been very safe." Jenny looked at the assortment of creepy dolls, shivering. "I hate antique stores. Do you know how many haunted dolls are probably in here right now?"
"Poke one and find out." Dean joked as Jenny paused, dead-panning.
"Very funny. Do they even sell guns in here? I feel like that's illegal."
"Everything we do is illegal, Jen."
"Fair point." There was a long silence as Jenny kept walking down deeper into the store, coming across a large collection of knives.
"Hey, Jen?"
She hummed in response. "When this is over... Do you think we'd be able to do what my Dad said?" Jenny was quiet for a moment as she looked through the knives.
"What do you mean?"
"You know... Live a normal life together." She went quiet again.
"I didn't think you'd want to quit after we killed this demon." Jenny picked up a silver blade wrapped in leather, looking at it intently.
"Well, I don't know. Things change." She turned around to see Dean standing a few paces away, hanging up the phone. He was holding an old gun, walking towards her.
"I guess this is it, then." Jenny waved the knife around as she picketed her phone. "This is definitely a trap."
"Can't talk him out of it." Dean commented. Jenny shook her head as the two walked back to the front.
✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
"You get 'em?" John asked as soon as Emmy and Dean stepped out of the impala, walking over to him and Sam. Dean pulled out a brown paper bag carrying the antique gun as Jenny held up the dagger bound in leather.
"I had to carve a few fake runes on the handle but yeah... It should do." Jenny spoke up, handing the dagger to John.
"You know this is a trap, don't you? That's why Meg wants you to come alone?" Dean asked with a hard frown. His father nodded.
"I can handle her. I got a whole arsenal loaded. Holy water, Mandaic, amulets—"
"Dad..." Dean cut in, trailing off.
"What?"
"Promise me something."
"What's that?"
"This thing goes south just...get the hell out. Don't get yourself killed all right, you're no good to us dead."
