Okay, so, I had an appointment this morning to have my tattoo done and I got there super early! I was sitting there listening to the needles and started feeling like beyond nervous as hell, so I wrote this to kind of distract myself from it while I waited. It's only a two chapter thing, mostly because I wasn't sure I liked how I ended it and I wanted to upload it. Hope you like!

Pontiac, Illinois — Motel Room — 08:45 pm.

Sam barely even glanced up from his laptop as the door to the bathroom swung open. Dean emerged from within in a cloud of hot steam, which quickly dissipated into the cool air around him. It had been a slow week for them. Since Sam's possession they hadn't done much of anything. After a couple of days at Bobby's they had driven down to Illinois, investigating what they had thought to be a vampire hunt, but that had turned out to be a bust. Now, scouring the internet for anything even remotely freaky had become Sam's daily activity. There just seemed to be nothing jumping out at him. And therefore, until they stumbled into something, they were stuck with nothing to do, and more time to think, time which the younger Winchester certainly didn't want.

Dean had seemed more than okay with taking a few days off. He watched Sam like a hawk, making sure he always wore the new anti-possession charm that Bobby had given to him, just to be sure. It wasn't something he ever wanted either of them to experience again. A demon in Sam's body had been something that had scared him more than anything before, because for a moment it had been as though his brother really was the monster he was hunting. He couldn't take that again. And that's how he knew that the two of them needed a more permanent solution. There was no escaping that fact. And he was willing to go to extreme lengths to ensure their safety.

"Hey, Sammy," Dean grabbed his brother's attention as he pulled a shirt over his head and scrubbed a towel through his short hair. "I've been thinking, you know, about what we were talking about the other night." Sam raised his eyebrows, not appearing to be following at all. His brother rolled his eyes, as if to ask how he had forgotten, and tossed the towel aside to one of the beds. "You know, with you getting possessed and everything...I mean, these things aren't guaranteed to last forever." he said, gesturing down to the second necklace around his neck, the one holding the anti-possession charm.

Sam stared at him for a long moment before it all clicked in his head what he was talking about. "Wait, are you actually suggesting that we go out and get tattoos?" he asked, incredulous, as though he couldn't believe the words coming from his mouth. "Dude, we were both wasted."

Dean shrugged. "Maybe, but it made sense, right? I mean, come on, think about it."

Sam sighed, shaking his head. It did make sense, of course it did. With the lifestyle they led, necklaces could be snapped at any moment, and it only took a second to become possessed. They had gotten out of it the last time, but they both knew that they were lucky. That one week had been a living hell for Sam, trapped in his own body, unable to call out to Dean as he stood there with a gun aimed at his head. It had been torture for Dean, seeing his younger brother seemingly fall right off the rails, seeing in him what he feared the most. If there was a way neither of them had to relive that, shouldn't they take it? Wouldn't that be the best thing? If they could have a permanent guarantee no demon would ever get inside them again, wouldn't it be the smartest move to take it?

"Alright," Sam threw up his hands in defeat, there wasn't really much of a point arguing it, he knew his brother was set on it. He could tell. "Fine, you win." he muttered. "I'll, uh, I'll find somewhere local tomorrow, we can go and sort something out with them, I guess."

"Actually," Dean shot him a slight smile. "I already know where we're getting them done."

"You do?" Sam cocked an eyebrow. "Man, I agreed to this about five seconds ago." But the smile on Dean's face simply contorted to a smirk. "Fine," he sighed when his brother said nothing. "Where are we going?"

"Sacramento." Dean stated. "There's a chick there, name's Aria. She has some store. I've heard she's supposed to be good."

"Sacramento?" Sam repeated, skeptical. "As in California?" That was over a days drive for them, there had to be something more going on if Dean was willing to drive a whole day for something they could get done there in the space of an hour. "You've heard about her...where, exactly?"

"Can't we just say I've heard and leave it at that?" he asked, clearly not willing to get into any details about it. What could he really say his reasoning was for wanting to drive halfway across the country to have a tattoo done by some random chick they had never even met? Whatever he said, Sam wouldn't believe him. It was far too complicated to get into. "Come on, man." he urged, seeing his brother's hesitation. "I'm serious about this."

And Sam didn't doubt that, not for a second. He could see how serious he was about something. There was a thoughtful frown furrowed at his brow, something deep, as though he had been considering whatever it was for quite some time. But Sam also knew that his brother wasn't willing to tell him about whatever it was, at least, not yet. Maybe things would make more sense to him when they were there, maybe there was something in California he was looking for. Maybe there was something more going on than just his brother wanting a tattoo. He couldn't be sure. But he didn't press it. What was the point? He knew it was in their best interests to just get on with it.

And so, he did.

Sacramento, California — The next day — 03:17 pm.

Dean headed inside the shop first, seeming much more confident with the idea of having something permanently inked onto his skin than his brother was. He glanced around the store as he held open the door for Sam behind him. It was large, much more than it had looked from the outside, and bright. The walls were decorated with fresh wallpaper and paint, a couple of large, framed pictures and collections of tattoos covered the wall behind the desk to the left side. They crossed the room towards the desk, leaving heavy footsteps on the wooden floor beneath them as they approached, and Dean cleared his throat in some attempt to gain the attention of the teenage girl sitting behind it.

The girl had her nose buried in a magazine, not even seeming to have realised that anyone was standing there waiting, either that or she was just choosing to blatantly ignore them. "Hello?" Dean waved a hand in front of her face, but she still gave no reaction. "Excuse me?" he pressed a little louder, though he had a feeling, since even they could clearly hear the loud music coming through her headphones, she hadn't heard him.

Sam shot him a dubious look, as if to ask how in the hell he could ever consider her to be someone to get a tattoo from, and shook his head slowly. He would have been perfectly fine with turning around and walking right out of there. But Dean was persistent. The girl behind the desk finally lowered her magazine and glanced up at them through her heavily shadowed eyes. She blew out a large, pink bubble of gum before letting it snap back against her red lips. She made no attempt to remove the headphones in her ears, glaring at them as if to warn them not to even try and make her.

"I'm sorry about her." A new voice came from behind them. They both turned to see a girl standing in the doorway to another room. She looked a little older than the teenager behind the desk, and a lot happier to see them than her. She had dark blonde hair and green eyes, coated with a thin application of eyeliner. She wore black jeans with a number of rips in both legs, and some black boots with a dark t-shirt. The sleeves of her black leather jacket were pushed up, showing off the detailed and colourful tattoos that covered the visible parts of her forearms. "I've been meaning to fire her ass all month." she muttered, shaking her head in disapproval as she headed towards them. "I'm Aria." She held a hand out to them with a smile.

Sam noticed how Dean stared ahead at her for a long moment before taking her hand and shaking it, a little unsure about the look on his face. "I'm Dean." he introduced himself. "This is Sam." Aria smiled at him and took his hand, too.

"Dean and Sam, huh?" She glanced between them, looking a little curious, but quickly brushed off any thoughts she had. "Uh, you guys looking to book in for something?"

"Um, yeah." Dean nodded slowly and cast a glance to his left where Sam stood.

It was as though they had discussed every part of it in the car apart from what they were prepared to get. Sam had asked every single question there was, Do we really need to do this? Isn't this a little extreme? Tattoos don't last forever, Dean, what if they're burned off? What if we get cut, wouldn't that break the seal? How do we know a tattoo will even stop possession? You get it's gonna hurt right? But they had failed to really talk about the details of what they were having permanently etched into their skin. He got now, showing up to have a tattoo done without knowing what they even wanted probably hadn't been the smartest move. He was beginning to regret that they hadn't sat down and drawn something out.

Aria opened her mouth to reply, looking a little skeptical with them, but stopped herself at the sound of the phone ringing from the desk behind them. Sam and Dean glanced behind themselves and to the girl who didn't move an inch to respond to the sound. She shot an incredulous look at the teenager and shook her head at her. "Unbelievable." she muttered. "Um, take a seat, I'll just be a sec." she said, gesturing to the black leather couch in front of the window as she headed off to answer the phone.

Sam and Dean dropped down beside each other on the couch in silence. It was as though, now they were actually there, neither of them really knew what to say. Not seeming to think too much of it anymore, Dean reached ahead to one of the many magazines on the table in front of them and flipped it open, his eyes scanning the many tattoos inside. But there was something far more pressing at Sam's mind. And it didn't take his brother long to notice that something was bugging him.

"What are you making that face for?" he asked, his tone upbeat as though he didn't see a real problem. "Not scared, are you?"

But the joke didn't even seem to register with him. "Did you have a thing with her?" he asked suddenly. "This Aria? Do you two have some kind of history that I don't know about?"

"What?" If anything, Dean sounded a little too outraged at the thought. "No, of course not. Why would you even ask me that?"

"I don't know," Sam shrugged, not seeming to pick up on the fact Dean was a little too defensive about not knowing her. "She just seems...familiar." He looked over at her, leaning forwards against the desk, the phone pressed to her left ear as she scribbled something down into the large book in front of her. "Like, I feel like I recognise her...I just don't know why."

"Hm." Dean nodded slowly, looking as though he didn't want to comment. "Well, it's the first time I've ever met her." he replied honestly, although Sam could sense there was something more behind his words. He knew there had to be something about her for them to even be there in the first place. He had to have heard of her somewhere. But he didn't get a chance to ask before she hung up the phone and looked back to them.

"Alright, so, that was my three-thirty," she told them, sitting down on the other side of the table in front of them with a pen and pad of paper with her. "Just moved to Monday. I guess, if you're free, I got no problem doing yours now."

Sam and Dean exchanged a quick glance, as though they weren't sure what to say to her. "Uh, yeah, sure." Dean nodded. "That works."

"Good. Before I do anything to you, I need you both to fill out one of these," she said, handing them both a sheet of paper and a pen. "And I'll need to know what it is that you want." she smiled, opening the pad of paper to a clean page, looking between them curiously.

This time, neither of them could even think of what to say to her. They knew they really should have come to some sort of consensus before they had gotten there, because they were just sitting there, opening and closing their mouths like a couple of idiots. But then Dean thought, she was a tattoo artist, it was her job to help people with stuff like that. They wanted something to protect them from demons, that was a start. At least they had something to go on.

"Well," She handed him the pad and paper almost immediately, looking a little relieved that one of them had answered. "We, uh, kinda thought something like," He paused and drew a brief outline of a devils trap, a pentagram in a circle. "That." She glanced down at it and raised her eyebrows, although she didn't look too concerned, not in the way they had anticipated. "But, you know, we're open to the artist's interpretation and all that."

"We? You're getting the same one?" They both nodded. "Um, okay." She nodded slowly as she looked at the page. She seemed to realise that neither really knew what they wanted from her. "I can work with that." she said, tracing the pen over the lines Dean had drawn as she thought about it for a moment. "How about..." She flipped over the page to a clean piece of paper and brought the book closer to herself as she began scribbling something down on it. They both watched, anxious, unable to see what it was she was so furiously colouring.

It was a couple of minutes before Aria turned the book around to show them, the time Sam and Dean spent filling in the forms she had given to them. But, the moment she did finally show them, both their attitudes on the subject completely changed. "Wow." Sam commented. He looked a little surprised. "That's...actually, that's awesome."

"You sound surprised." she said simply, raising an eyebrow at them. "Why do I get this feeling neither of you really want to be here? You being forced to get these tattoos or something?" There was something in her eyes, and if they didn't know better they could have sworn she knew something they didn't, but neither chose to comment. "Well, how about you tell me where you want them? Do you know that at least?"

"Uh, yeah." Dean said. "Here." he gestured to the left side of his chest through his jacket. "Does that work for you?"

"Yeah, course it does." she smiled as she looked between them again. "Look, don't take this the wrong way but you both look terrified. Are you sure that you wanna do this? I mean, you can always come back another day if you need some time to think about it, right? Don't rush into anything you're not sure about." She sighed and pushed herself to stand when they didn't reply. "Look, I'll draw this up for you, take five minutes to talk about it, make sure you're comfortable. Okay?" She cracked a smirk to herself, as though the idea of the two giant guys sitting on her couch being scared of a tattoo amused her, and turned to leave the room.

Sam turned to Dean the moment she was out of sight, he didn't look at all nervous, because his mind was anywhere but a tattoo at that point. "Alright, you need to tell me what's going on, now." he said sharply, his voice low enough that it wouldn't be heard from the next room. Dean glanced up at him, appearing not to follow. But Sam wasn't going to take him playing dumb. "You know her from somewhere, Dean. I know you do. I know her from somewhere."

"We don't know her, Sam." he replied simply, but his voice was quiet, distant, as though his thoughts were anywhere but in that room.

"Well then what the hell are we doing here, huh?" he snapped. "Why couldn't we just have this done two-thousand miles ago? I don't understand why it was such a big deal to travel all this way to have this done by a complete stranger."

"Because, it just was, Sam, alright?" Dean threw back at him. "I know what I'm doing here. I don't wanna hear anymore about it."

"No, Dean, that's not good enough." Sam wasn't giving up. "I wanna know what's going on, alright? Why can't you just be honest with me?"

"Sam, I swear to god—" he stopped himself before he said anything too harsh. "Just, drop it."

That wouldn't have been the end, of course it wouldn't, Sam would have retorted with something even more pressing if Aria hadn't emerged from the next room again, standing in the doorway, looking at them, expectant. "So," she said brightly. "Who's my first victim?"

Dean pushed himself up, refusing to even face his brother, and sighed. "I'll go first." he muttered.

"Okie dokie, then." She smiled. "Sam, you can come in, too, if you like. It's up to you guys."

Dean glanced back and nodded at his brother to follow, and then, without a word, he headed into the next room after her. He looked around as he heard Sam close the door behind himself. It was a lot smaller than the other room, but was somehow still spacious, with a similar, bright feel to it. There was a bed in the middle, beside a small desk covered in pieces of paper, he assumed things she had been drawing before they had gotten there. His eyes fell to the many bottles of coloured ink on the shelf behind her, noting about twenty different shades of every colour he could think of, wondering how many of those she had used on her own skin.

"You can take off your shirt, Dean." she said to him, her voice was soft, as though she really did put his odd behaviour down to him being nervous. He only wished Sam could do the same. Because he knew he needed to confirm his suspicions about her properly before he said a word to his brother. It would cause too many problems otherwise. Almost hesitant, he pulled off his jacket and overshirt, followed by his t-shirt, and dropped them all to the couch behind him. He stepped forwards and moved to the chair opposite where she sat herself, still colouring something down on a piece of paper. "Okay," She put down her pen and turned to him. "I'm gonna put this on your chest, you tell me if you like it, if you do we'll ink it on. If not, tell me, and we'll fix it until you do."

Dean nodded. "Sure." he muttered.

Aria frowned a little in concentration as she positioned the piece of paper over his chest, before she pressed it down and transferred the print to his skin. She waited for a moment before she slowly peeled it back again. "Alright, check it out. See what you think." she said, nodding to the mirror behind him.

Dean pushed himself up and moved around the chair to take a look. He was a little surprised, he hadn't been expecting to like it all that much, more concerned with the fact it would keep demons out of him than an actual thing for him to look at and enjoy, but he found himself smiling a little at the sight. "Yeah," he nodded. "Looks good."

He glanced down at Sam, who was now sitting on the couch, who also nodded in approval. "Yeah, looks good." he repeated.

"Well, if you're sure." She gestured back to the seat and turned to open a new packet of needles. He watched her, noting how confident her actions were, she definitely wasn't new to this. It had to be something she had been doing for a long time. He couldn't stop his mind from wondering what kind of a life this girl had lived, and what kind of a background she had experienced.

Dean found his mind too full of concerning thoughts about her to even realise much of anything else going on around himself. He didn't think too much into it when she smeared his chest with freezing cold cream, or when she turned on the tattoo gun. He was staring at her, and thinking how familiar she really did look. He couldn't understand how Sam didn't see who it was he recognised in her face. It stood out a mile to him, unmistakable. There was no moving past it, just the look of her could be enough to prove to him who she was. Any doubt in his mind had gone the second he had laid eyes on her.

It was only when he felt the first touch of the needle to his skin that he was dragged back into reality. It wasn't the worst pain he had ever experienced, but it sure wasn't pleasant. "That feel okay for you?" Aria asked him, her eyes fixed solely on his chest as she worked.

"Uh-huh." he nodded. "Awesome."

She huffed a laugh. "Alright, tough guy. See if you still think it's awesome in fifteen minutes."

"Tell me, Aria, are you married?" Dean suddenly asked her. "You got kids? A family?"

Sam looked up at him at that, not sure what had brought on that from him, he was either nervous about what she was doing to him and blurting out the first bit of small talk he could, or he was completely calm and he knew exactly what it was he was asking. He just couldn't make up his mind which.

Aria gave a small chuckle. "Little forward, aren't you?" she quipped, but she didn't seem to mind his question.

Dean shrugged, the best he could without moving his left side too much. "Just making conversation." he said lightly. "You know, distraction from the pain."

That comment brought a smirk to her face. "Oh, so it does hurt, does it, tough guy?"

"No," Dean rolled his eyes, as though she was ridiculous for even thinking it. "Humor me."

Aria shook her head slowly, in answer to his question. "I'm not married. No kids." she stated. "I have a fiance, Nick, who I've been with for three years. I have my mom and dad, couple of aunts...but that's it. Why'd you ask?"

"No reason." he replied, as though it had been something as casual as him asking her about the weather. "Why'd you choose tattooing?"

At that, she paused and glanced up at him, eyebrows raised. "You're just full of questions, aren't you?" she said lightly before she started up on his tattoo again. "Uh...honestly, school was never really my thing. The only subject I ever considered myself good at was art, you know? And then, after I graduated, I was working in some dive bar, trying to scrape enough money together to pay the rent, kinda miserable. I got to twenty-one like that, and then one day I just thought, how come I don't draw anymore? I could do something with it. My mom and dad offered to put me through college, said I cold be some graphic designer or an architect or something."

"Sounds gristly." Dean commented.

"Yeah, that's what I said." she agreed. "So, I thought, screw it. I'm gonna tattoo. I worked for some guy for a couple of years, got myself some experience, but I always knew there that I wanted to move on. So I did. I eventually got my own store, and," she shrugged. "Here we are."

"And, your parent were okay with that?" he pressed, curious.

"Uh, yeah, I guess so." she chuckled. "I don't think it was their first choice for me, but they know it makes me happy."

Sam narrowed his eyes as he watched his brother. He barely paid attention to what they were saying to each other anymore. Something was going on there. Dean had something on her. He knew it. A girl who was roughly the same age as them, normally Dean would have had her number by now. But he didn't seem interested in picking her up. He seemed more intent on knowing every little detail of her life. It was almost as though he was going to the extreme to interrogate her. Sure, they had pulled some pretty weird undercover moves before to gain information, but getting a tattoo purely on the basis of finding out about someone's life, even Dean wasn't that stupid. But, it would explain why he had wanted to drive so far to have her do it. The second they were alone Sam was going to get some serious answers from his brother.

Aria didn't seem too concerned by his questions, she didn't seem to have a problem answering them, but there was a definite curiosity as to why he was asking them. He couldn't imagine it was too often that she had customers come in and ask her so many questions about her personal life. There had to be something more to what he was asking her than just making conversation.

It was as the continuous sound of buzzing from the tattoo gun faded away that Dean looked down at his chest again, for the first time in almost twenty minutes. The tattoo was completed and she was wiping it clean. He watched as she smeared some cream over it and gave him a smile. "All done." she said brightly. "See what you think."

Dean, finding himself a little nervous now, for the first time since he had walked into the store, stood from the seat and moved to stand in front of the mirror. A smile formed on his face at the sight of it and he nodded at her. "Yeah," he turned back to her and grinned. "It's great."

"Good. Glad you like it." she said. He moved back towards her and watched as she placed some clear wrap on it, fixing it there with tape. "There you go. Keep that on for an hour or so and you should be fine. I'll give you an aftercare leaflet on your way out." She glanced over at Sam and smirked. "You're up."

Sam nodded, a little anxious in his movements, and stood from the couch. He pulled off his shirt as Dean picked up his. His brother cracked a smirk at him as he tossed his shirt to the couch behind him, his face full of accusation as he tugged the anti-possession charm from around his neck and shoved it into his jeans. "You nervous, Sammy?" he asked, his voice nothing but amusement.

Sam narrowed his eyes at him. "Of course I'm not." he muttered. "Why would I be nervous?"

"You look nervous." Dean countered, smirking a little harder at him.

Sam shook his head. "Bite me."

"You know what," Dean turned back to Aria as he pulled on his overshirt. "Have you got a bathroom I can use?"

Aria nodded. "Sure. Back of the store there are some stairs, it's your first door on the left." she smiled.

Dean nodded and headed out of the room, being sure to pull the door closed behind himself. The girl from earlier was still sitting behind the counter, not looking to have moved positions at all. He could hear her music from where he stood at the other side of the room. Slowly, he approached, and she glared up at him from over the top of her magazine as he leaned against the counter. He stood there and stared at her, a slight smile on his face, as if to warn her he wasn't walking away until he had spoken to her.

The girl pulled out one of her headphones and raised an eyebrow. "Can I help you?"

"Yeah, you can." Dean said bluntly. He reached into his back pocket and took out ten dollars, placing it down in front of her. "You can go and buy yourself some coffee, and make sure you're gone for at least fifteen minutes." She stared at him, making no reaction that she had even registered his words. After a moment, he sighed, shaking his head, and placed down another ten dollars. "Do we have a deal?"

She reached out and took the money from the desk and nodded. "We have a deal." she smirked and grabbed her jacket, pushing herself up from the chair before she headed out of the store.

Dean watched after her as she crossed the street and quickly flipped the sign on the door from open to closed. He knew he had to move fast. By now he could already hear the sound of the tattoo gun working on Sam's skin, accompanied by the faint voices of Sam and Aria. It wasn't going to be that long until she would be done. Without anymore hesitation, he almost dived behind the counter and opened the top drawer of the desk. All he found in there were pens and pencils and odd letters addressed to Aria, most of which just looked like standard mail from banks and companies. Nothing important to him.

Honestly, he wasn't sure what he was even looking for. He just needed to find something. Anything that would prove the suspicions he had confirmed to himself already. He knew exactly who that girl was, he just wasn't sure Sam would be as easy to convince. Or, in that case, Aria.

He rummaged through all of the drawers in her desk, spending time scrutinizing every little notepad or book that he found in there. But he found nothing. And then his eyes fell to the last drawer, the only one that he hadn't noticed before, the only one left to look in. It was locked, and there were no sign of any keys lying around. He sighed to himself and grabbed a paperclip from the top of the desk as he knelt behind it and got to work. But, caught up in what he was doing, he didn't notice as the sound of buzzing faded from the room and left it in complete silence. He didn't hear as the door at the other side of the room opened and closed, and he didn't hear the footsteps approaching the desk until he realised that there was someone standing at the other side of it, looking down at him with a frown.

"What the hell are you doing?" It was Sam, and he didn't sound happy, at all.

Dean rose to his feet and sighed. "Sam—"

"This is why you dragged us all the way here?" he pressed, he wasn't giving him the chance to talk himself out of it. "So you could get a tattoo and then raid her desk? What the hell are you even looking for, Dean?"

"Look," he shook his head. "Sammy—"

"No, what could you possibly be looking for here? Huh?" Sometimes Sam just didn't understand what went through his brother's head. He couldn't understand what it was that was going on. He didn't get it. Any of it. "You said so yourself, we don't even know her."

"That's true." he said firmly, making sure he was given the time to speak this time. "I don't know her, Sam. But dad did."

"What?" That comment hit Sam like a slap to the face. What could their dad have to do with anything? How did he know her? How did Dean know that he knew her? Why hadn't Aria said anything? Did she know who they were? Was Dean even sure he had the right person? Why would their dad know some tattoo artist in California? He couldn't even think. It didn't make sense.

Dean looked down for a moment and wet his lips. How was he supposed to say it? He couldn't. "Sam, you said that you recognised her."

"Yeah, I thought I did." he frowned. If that was why he was doing what he was, it was a pretty lame excuse. "I was wrong. Now let's get the hell out of here before she calls the cops on us for whatever the hell it is that you're doing here."

"Come on, Sam." he pushed, his eyes pleading with his brother to understand. "Even you aren't that blind." But apparently he was. Because Sam made absolutely no reaction to anything being said to him. He looked lost. "Use your brain, man." he urged. "You recognised her because she looks like mom."

Sam's eyes went wide at that. It hadn't clicked until he had said it, but Dean was right. The girl in the next room had looked exactly like their mother. She had her eyes, the same ones he had seen in the few photographs of her. She had her facial structure, her smile, all of it. He couldn't believe he hadn't seen it earlier. No wonder Dean had been staring at her the way he had. He felt faint, suddenly hit with a wave of sickness that lurched his stomach. He opened his mouth to say something, not sure what, but he didn't have the chance.

"So, you do know." A voice came from the other side of the room, and they both turned sharply to see Aria standing in the doorway, arms folded over her chest. She looked between them slowly, her eyes falling from Dean to Sam. "Or, at least, one of you does."

Dean moved around from the other side of the desk to stand beside his brother, frowning at her. He hadn't been sure if she had known, but apparently she did. And she hadn't said a word to them. "How long have you known about us?" he asked, curious, making an attempt not to let on anything that he was feeling, he wasn't even that sure himself. "How long have you known dad?"

"Wait, what?" Sam shook his head, his eyes darting between the two of them. "What the hell is going on?"

"Dean," she sighed. She knew what he thought, and she knew it wasn't right. She had never wanted to be the one to tell them. "Look, whatever you're thinking right now, whatever it is going on in your head, it isn't true. You've got it wrong." He narrowed his eyes, as if asking her to elaborate. "Mary Winchester was my mother, that much you know, right? But John Winchester wasn't my father." At that comment, she didn't know who looked sicker. Sam opened and closed his mouth a few times, as if he wanted to react to the news she had just broken but he just didn't know how. But Dean looked something else, he looked hurt, as if that news shocked him, confused him. "Come on, just, sit down, alright?" she said, nodding to the couch. "Hear me out. Please."