The Fake FBI (Supernatural Fanfiction)

The Tattoos

    Ok, so hope your enjoying my story so far. It is my first so it's not great. It can do better and I'm trying to make it better so thank you for choosing to read my story out of all of the other stories out there!
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   I didn't know much about demons and angels. Growing up my family wasn't very religious so neither was my family. I might not have known much but I did know more than most people about supernatural beings. I liked to read about them. It interests me. I was never sure why but it did. If I got bored I would read about mythical creatures and supernatural beings.

    "I think I know what your talking about." I say, out of no where. The three of them were having a conversation about suggestions of what they thought the creature was. They all stared at me.
  
Silence
  
   I was looking at Sam. He had a computer and was doing research. "Sweetheart, just leave the work to us. All you need to do is stay safe and we're fine." Dean replied with a smug look on his face.
 
   "What. You think 'cause I'm a girl I can't handle this? Or I might be afraid. Cause I'm not. Plus, I've read 'bout these before. I came across it online this one time." I said, walking over to the wall behind Sam. I leaned against it and crossed my arms, looking at Dean and Cass standing next to me. I wait for Dean's response. He soon replied with

"Well... Just because you read 'bout something by coincidence doesn't mean we're taking you out to kill this thing."

   I look at Dean, squinting my eyes. I stare at him. He starts to mimick me. Like if we're having an intense staring contest. Even as an adult, I always was the most childish in the relashionship. I look away, towards Sam. "It's a Soul Eater isn't it? Yeah, it lives in a nest right? And the nest looks like the house. So my house must be a nest! So do we know how to kill it?"

I ask. I smirk as I lean on the wall again. Pulling the falling sleeve of my flannel up. I always loved dressing with flannels. My outfit would usually be made up of combat boots, a T-shirt and a flannel. I usually had a pony tail. I had a tattoo under my neck, so when my hair was up you could see it. It was a black heart with a music note inside. I got it when I was 19. When I had my first boyfriend. He was in a band and loved music as much as I did. I had a couple of tattoos on me. I had another one on my ankle. It was a quote I had made up. Love is golden. It was red except for the word golden in gold. I got that one when I was 24. When I met my husband. I am currently 35. I had gotten one last tattoo last year. It was a small heart on the inside of my right index finger. I always had a ring on that finger so the he was covered most of the time. It was special to me though. My husband had chosen where and what to get that tattoo. It was in honor of our 10 year anniversary.

   As I tilted my head up a bit with a smug look on my face, Dean seamed to notice my tattoo. "Got any more inks?" He asked. "Yeah, I have three total actually, you?" I asked casually. Not really caring much. "Yeah, I got one, Sammy and I both do, actually. Same one." He pulled down his shirt by the neck and a it showed a sign. It looked like a pentagram with flames coming out of it but in all black. I stare at it. Wondering its purpose. Every tattoo had a purpose or story behind it. Sam then showed me his. "So... What's the story on those tats?" I ask. "What?" Sam replies with a bit of a puzzled look on his cute face.
 
   "Every tattoo has a purpose or story. It's why you got the tattoo. What's that tattoos purpose or story?" I explain. Sam understands and nods. "Oh, yeah. These are anti-possession tattoos. They make sure demons can't possess us." Sam explains to me. Now I want one. They look so cool and protect me against demons. Why not? I think.

   "Oh, that's awesome!" I exclaim. I immediately get out my phone. I start to Google for the nearest tattoo shop. "It's rude to use your phone when you're trying to have a conversation with someone ya know." Says Dean, with a hint of sass in his voice. "I'm checking the tattoo shop hours. I'm checking what time I can get one of those you guys have." I reply.

   "Here we go. The nearest one is open right now! Let's go!" I say, grabbing my bag and car keys, heading outside. As I'm about to turn my truck on, Dean calls out to me.

   "Oh no you don't! You're going in the Impala. We can't risk you getting hit by one of them!" He says. I get out of my truck and walk towards him. "Ok, I call shotgun then!"
"Nope. Sammy always rides shotgun."

"Then I'm not going. I'll go in my car."

   "That's not happening either!" Says Dean. I smirk, seeing him getting all tense because I won't cooperate. "Well I'm not sitting in the back." I say. Crossing my arms and leaning on my truck. "Sammy! Come tell her she can't sit shotgun! Tell her that's where you sit!"

Dean calls out to Sam. "You're so childish, Dean!" I say. Chuckling.

"...bitch..." I hear Dean mutter under his breath. "Whatever" I say, flipping my hair as I walk towards the car.

   "Ok. So let's figure this out. Whose sitting where?" I say to Sam and Cas. "Oh, well Cas sits in the back. And I usually sit in the front with Dean. So you'll sit in back with Cas. Simple" says Sam. "Yeah, Ok." I say. Dean puzzled how Sam got me to sit in the back.

"I like to see him suffer" I tell Cas.