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Chapter 42: Inked

A/N: Okay, so I know last author's note I mentioned I would update that night. But some of you encouraged me to take care of myself and deal with my personal life before the book. I really appreciate that because I ended up enjoying finishing this chapter I stead of stressing over it. I am really sorry I'm late again, but I want to thank you for being so supportive and understanding with me and my schooling, because that's obviously important. Anyways, I hope you am not the chapter. Don't forget to keep showing the love!
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"I'm sorry I screwed up the stupid hunt," you grumbled while shoving your things back into your duffle bag.

"It's not your fault," Sam said. "But we're going to have to fix something so it doesn't ever happen again."

Dean stayed sitting silently on the bed, staring off in the distance. You were certain he was mad about how the hunt went. You wouldn't blame him for being upset. All because of your possession, the hunt was a bust and the three of you were no closer to finding Abaddon.

"Are you mad, Dean?" you questioned timidly.

"Why were you just going to give up and die?" He met your eyes, and you saw that he was troubled by his own question.

"It doesn't seem right. One of these days, it will really be my time, and Cas is going to keep that from happening."

"God himself sent you back to me, I mean, us," he hurried to correct. "It's not your time yet, sweetheart."

You gnawed on your lip as you thought what to say. Instead of continuing the conversation, you said, "What did you mean you were going to fix something?" You turned around to look at Sam.

He pulled the collar of his shirt down to reveal a tattoo. It was a symbol that looked familiar, but you didn't know why. You stepped toward him to examine the marking.

"I should know what it is...What is it?" you asked.

"Anti-possession symbol," Dean jumped in. "We both have one, and you need one too. It will help avoid that whole ordeal you just went through."

Saliva filled your mouth and you swallowed hard. The thought of a needle repeatedly poking into your skin was terrifying. For all of the gory things in your life, needles were somehow the thing that would make your stomach turn. That was the reason tattoos had never crossed your mind.

"A—a tattoo?" you squeaked.

"Is that a problem?" Dean asked.

"It'll keep me from ever having another demon inside me, right?"

He nodded as you chewed your bottom lip. Nothing about getting a tattoo seemed appealing. Couldn't a bracelet or necklace work just as well? You wanted to ask them, but you didn't want to sound weak.

"Then there's no problem," you replied, feigning confidence.

"Y/N, are you afraid of needles?" Sam questioned.

"What? Me? Never." You answered them in a way that you knew they would understand that you are terrified of needles. Maybe it was best they knew anyway...

"You're a hunter, and you're afraid of needles," he stated like he couldn't believe it. "You get stabbed and bit and clawed by lord knows what on a hunt, and you're afraid of needles."

Dean gave Sam a look that could best be described by the first word out of his mouth. "Dude, you're afraid of clowns."

Sam's face settled to a bitch-face as he turned to look at Dean. "Clowns are scary. We've even had to hunt them before."