Thank you so much to everyone who has favourited or followed my story! I'm so happy y'all are enjoying it! Thank you for your patience in waiting for this next chapter - I wasn't originally happy with it, so I ended up rewriting most of it before posting. Chapter 4 sets the stage for the action-packed chapter 5, which I hope to post this weekend.
Chapter 4 – Inked In
Rori awoke to the sound of the television. From within the soft folds of her pillow, she recollected falling asleep on top of the bed, with her clothes still on, after attempting to wait up for the brothers the night before. Someone had folded the blankets over her.
Reluctantly, Rori sat up, rubbing her eyes – she was not a morning person. Sam was sitting on the edge of the other bed, watching the local news. She could hear the shower going in the washroom.
"Uh, good morning," Rori said awkwardly.
"Morning." Sam kept his eyes locked on the TV. The local news announcer was saying something about a second disappearance.
Rori climbed out of bed, and smoothed out her skirt. She hadn't meant to fall asleep so early, but sleeping in a car the night before while fleeing from demons hadn't exactly been restful. She stood clumsily between the two beds.
"So, how did the research go yesterday?"
"Oh, it sucked. We didn't find anything useful." Sam was now stuffing a donut in his mouth, still focused on the TV.
"Oh." Rori sat down on the edge of her bed for a minute, then stood up again. "Is there anything to eat for breakfast?"
"We finished off the Chinese food you left us last night. I think there might be some bottles of juice in the mini-fridge."
Rori was glad to hear the take-out she had ordered hadn't gone to waste. Walking over to the mini-fridge, she found a cranberry juice. As she opened the bottle, Rori noticed yesterday's local newspaper laying on top of the mini-fridge. Someone had circled an article half-way down the first page – the headline read "Local nurse killed by gruesome animal attack in city park." Rori took a sip of her deep red juice, and continued to scan the article.
"After uncharacteristically abandoning her nursing post mid-shift, the remains of Mrs. Wendle were found yesterday in Heritage Park. The police are reporting the death as an animal attack, and have closed the small downtown park; however, the circumstances leading to her death remain mysterious. Coworkers say Mrs. Wendle was an extremely reliable employee who took her job very seriously. But she was reported to have been acting strangely before walking out in the middle of her shift at the hospital. Some nurses even report that just before she disappeared, Mrs. Wendle had been ranting about her son, who tragically passed away seven years ago, when…"
A wide hand suddenly snatched the paper away. Rori snapped her head sideways, and came face to face with Dean. His hair was still wet from the shower, and he was freshly shaven, wearing an olive green t-shirt and jeans.
"Hi, good morning." Dean folded up the newspaper and tossed it in a trash bin behind him.
"Uh hi, I was reading that." Rori raised her eyebrows at Dean's action.
"Oh you were? I'm sure we can find something better for you to read." He flashed one of his big, fake smiles. Rori frowned.
"That article about the nurse who was killed, could demons have been involved in that?"
Dean was shaking his head. "No, definitely not demons. That was just an animal attack. Shame, but those things happen."
Rori's instincts disagreed. "Are you sure? It sounded kinda weird. Of course, maybe if I finished reading it…" She took a step towards the trash bin, but Dean blocked her.
"By the way thanks for the Chinese food and beer last night. We didn't get back from the library until after ten, so it was pretty nice to have some grub waiting for us."
Rori glanced at the newspaper in the trash bin one more time, and then decided to let it go. If Dean didn't think the death was related to demons, then it was probably nothing more than a rabid wolf. After all, what else could it be?
She turned back to Dean. "You're welcome. Sam was saying the research didn't go so well."
"These things can take time. But we'll figure it out. We have more sources here in town to check out, and then there's a college with some half-decent lore historians in the next city over."
Dean walked over to the side dresser, where the room's phone was, and picked up the phone book. He started flipping through the yellow pages. "In the meantime though, how do you feel about tattoos?"
Half an hour later, Rori and the boys were back in the Impala, driving to the nearest tattoo parlour. She had changed into her khaki shorts and tribal print tank top – it was going to be a hot day. Rori was nervous about getting a tattoo – she had never had one before, and the anti-possession symbol that Sam and Dean had shown her this morning on their own chests wasn't exactly a small tattoo to start with.
"Do I need to get it in the same place as you?" Rori asked Dean as he drove.
"Not necessarily, just as long as it's somewhere… central," said Dean.
"What does that mean?"
"Not on a body part that can be cut off," said Sam from the back seat. Rori shuddered, and leaned back in her seat. She could almost pretend this was a normal trip, until the boys would say something like that. It kept reminding her of the gravity of the situation she had gotten herself wrapped up in. It scared her.
Dean found the right address, and parked the Impala at the little shop. Walking inside, they were met by a burly, heavily tattooed man with long black hair in a ponytail, and a thick mustache. Dean slapped a paper down on the counter. The anti-possession symbol was drawn precisely on it.
"Howdy. Can you do this? It needs to be exact – no artistic licence or anything."
The tattoo artist, whose nametag said 'Jag', picked up the paper, and examined it.
"I can do it. You getting this?" Jag asked Dean. Dean shook his head, and put his hand behind Rori's back.
"Nope, but she is."
Rori was sure Jag could see her fear as he eyed her.
"You a virgin?" Jag said.
"Excuse me?" said Rori.
"A tattoo virgin. I can usually spot them."
"Oh. Yes."
"Come with me," said Jag, standing up from his stool behind the desk. Rori, Sam, and Dean followed him to one of the tattooing benches. "So where are we putting this on you, sweetheart?"
"I was thinking here," Rori said, tapping the back of her left shoulder. "Will that work?" she asked, turning to Sam and Dean. They simultaneously nodded.
Jag the tattoo artist took a few minutes to prepare his tools and the drawing before he came back to Rori. She pulled her hair to the side, secured it with an elastic, and slipped the left strap of her tank top and bra together off her left shoulder. Jag had her lean against a bench pad. She felt so vulnerable.
"Y'all are welcome to stay," said Jag to Sam and Dean, "but you might get bored. It's gonna take a few hours to finish a tat this size."
"We'll stay," said Dean, to Rori's relief. She ran her thumb across the charm hanging around her neck, which she hadn't removed since Sam had given it to her in the Impala after yesterday morning's demon attack. She shuddered to think what she would do if a demon showed up before her tattoo was finished, and Sam and Dean weren't there. Rori hated feeling so helpless and needy – she took pride in being a strong and independent, smart woman. But in this supernatural world of demons, powerful symbols, and misplaced souls, trying to be too independent would only get her killed. At least I can be strong, Rori thought to herself, as Jag switched on the tattoo gun.
Three hours later, Rori's new tattoo was taped up, as her and the boys walked out of the shop.
"You know, I gotta hand it to you, Rori. Most people can't sit straight through that long a tattoo session, let alone a first-timer," said Dean.
"Well I was motivated," said Rori, grimacing slightly at her throbbing shoulder.
Back at their hotel room, Rori peeled back the bandages to examine the fresh ink in the mirror. It looked like something a gang member would get, not an educated professional with a mortgage. But if carrying Sam's soul wasn't a visible enough reminder, this tattoo etched into her shoulder sealed the deal for Rori – she was in this, like it or not.
Over the next few days, Rori spent time accompanying Sam and Dean as they looked into possible sources of research on the transfer of souls. Sometimes this meant reading age-old books at the library or local churches, other times arranging interviews with clergymen, historians, and academics, or doing internet research. One morning, as Sam and Dean were pulling on their shoes to go speak with a retired priest, Rori asked if she could stay back.
"No," Dean replied firmly.
"But why not? You let me stay back alone the first day we got here."
"Yeah, well we probably shouldn't have."
"Why do you want to stick around here anyways?" asked Sam. "There's nothing to do in the motel."
Rori looked out the window at the mature evergreens across the parking lot. "It's not the motel that I want to stay for, it's the forest." One look up at the boys' blank faces told her they didn't get it. She tried to elaborate.
"How often do you stay in a motel right on the edge of a beautiful national forest reserve? I just really want to get out for a few short hikes." The truth was, as an avid hiker and camper, Rori was longing to get out into the forest, and let the sound of the wind blowing through the branches carry away her worries about souls and demons and whether the jade plant on her kitchen table at home was still alive – just for a little while.
Dean unexpectedly pulled out his gun from his leather jacket, took apart the clip and dropped it on the coffee table. "Ok then, if you want to hang out alone, show me how to load the gun."
Rori just looked at it. "I, uh I don't know how."
Sam shook his head and walked into the bathroom to pour himself a cup of coffee. He sat down on the far bed and flipped on the TV. Dean picked up the gun, and slowly put it together in front of Rori, then immediately took it apart, and reassembled it again. She tried to take in each step, silently moving her lips as he worked.
"Now you," he said, handing it to her. The weapon was warm from Dean's hands, and heavier than she expected. It was the first time Rori had touched a gun that didn't shoot water or nerf balls. After struggling to put the gun together the first time, she repeated the process five more times, reliving a latent muscle memory in her hands as she went. By the sixth time, Rori put the gun together as smoothly as Dean.
She looked up at Dean for acknowledgement. "Did I pass?"
Dean rolled his eyes and took the gun back. "You can't kill a demon by loading bullets into a gun and showing him what a good job you did," he scoffed.
Rori folded her arms defensively. Her frustration in not being in control of the things that had happened to her over the past week – of her own protection – was beginning to bubble over. "In case you forgot already, I have a little extra something most girls don't, called Sam's soul – and access to some of his fighting skills and instincts along with it," Rori fumed. "Sorry Sam," she added over her shoulder, before spinning back to face Dean. "I'm pretty sure I'll be able to pick up the aim and shoot part."
"Just show her how to shoot the friggin' thing already, Dean," Sam said in exasperation.
Dean stared at her with a hard expression for a minute, then shook his head and walked out the door, leaving it open behind him. Rori was worried she had pushed him too far, and that she was going to need a personal bodyguard for the rest of her life. But then he stuck his head back in the doorway.
"So are you two coming or what? There's a shooting range about half an hour from here."
Rori couldn't stop the smile from escaping the side of her lips.