Thank you so much Shadowhuntingdauntlessdemigod for beta'ing and VegasGranny and Ncsupnatfan for being the best pre-readers around.

Chapter Fourteen

Mary and Dean were taking a break from the books, sitting together at the table with the coffees Dean had made. Neither were getting anything good out of the journals because their heads weren't in it. They were with Sam and Clark, wondering what was happening there.

Mary was stressed, but Dean seemed ever more so. He had been on edge all morning. Mary tried to soothe him, but he had reached that point of stressed and angry in which nothing could reach him. It didn't happen often to Dean, but when it did, you just had to let it run its course.

Mary was trying to engage him in conversation about the journal she'd read when there was a knock on the door. Dean leapt to his feet to answer, and Sam stood just outside, his breath misting in the cold air. Dean stepped back and ushered him in, and Sam came in and dropped into the chair Dean had vacated.

He looked exhausted. There were shadows under his eyes and his face was drawn. He didn't even seem to have the energy to take off his coat.

"What the hell happened to you?" Dean asked. "What did he do?"

Sam frowned. "Clark?"

Dean crossed his arms over his chest and nodded stiffly. "Yes, Clark."

"Nothing," Sam said wearily.

"Then why do you look like you're about to drop?"

"I'm just tired. It's hard work, what we're doing."

Dean looked like he wanted to say more, and from the look on his face, Mary thought it was going to be something ugly, so she intervened before he could. "What were you doing?"

Sam shrugged. "Not much."

Dean scowled and opened his mouth to answer, but Mary held up a hand to him and he snapped it closed again.

Sam clearly didn't want to talk about what they'd been doing, and she thought they needed to respect that. What he was doing was going to be hard on him, they'd all known that going in, and if he didn't want to share, it was his choice. She had no right to push him when she had her own secrets.

Sam yawned widely, covering his mouth and his eyes squeezing closed.

"Do you want to sleep a while?" Mary asked.

"Maybe later," Sam said, his eyes blinking tiredly. "I've got a few hours before he wants me back. He's crashing now. I wanted to talk to you first."

Dean got up and poured a cup of coffee for Sam then handed it to him and said, "Get that down you."

Sam thanked him and sipped it quickly.

"What do you want to talk about?" Dean asked.

"Clark," Sam said. "He can astral project. He showed me." He bit his lip. "We were in here when you were talking about how you don't trust him, Dean."

Dean eyes widened and his face flushed with anger. "He was spying on us!"

"Only for a minute."

Dean's hands fisted, and his mouth opened and closed as he tried to find words to express his feelings. Mary understood how he felt, and she wasn't pleased that they'd been spied on, but she was also intrigued.

"Is that something you'll be able to do, too?" she asked.

"He thinks so," Sam said. "It'll take time to learn, but I think everything is going to take time to learn."

Dean seemed to gain control of himself again, and he said in a hearty voice. "That's going to be pretty useful, Sam. You can get us all kinds of inside information."

"You just threw a tantrum because Clark did that to you," Sam pointed out.

"One, it wasn't a tantrum. I don't throw tantrums. It was an adult expression of anger. Two, I'm guessing you're not going to do it to us. That was the part I didn't like. Three, this is all good, Sam. The more you learn, the better."

Sam shrugged. "I guess. I got something else useful from him. Clark has a tattoo. Actually, he has two, but the one I'm talking about is the important one. It's an anti-possession symbol. He says it stops him being possessed by demons."

Dean sucked in a slow breath. "That's awesome. Does it work?"

"I think so," Sam said. "I can't see why it wouldn't. I read about it in one of the books Mom brought back. People have them on charms, and they're on warded boxes. I think we should get them, too."

Mary considered, marveling at the ingenuity of the idea. She'd never thought of it before, but this could really help them. If they were impossible to possess, it would give them an advantage over the demons.

"Yes," she said wonderingly. "We're doing it."

Dean raised an eyebrow. "You are getting a tattoo, Mom?"

"Why wouldn't I?" she asked, narrowing her eyes at him.

Dean rubbed the back of his neck. "Well… it doesn't exactly fit your professional image."

Sam chuckled.

Mary rolled her eyes. "You think I can decapitate a vampire on the run but I'm going to get precious over a tattoo? I'm not getting it put on my forehead, boys. I can get it somewhere easy to conceal. Come on, grab your coat. We're going now."

Sam got to his feet, but Dean hesitated.

"What?" Sam asked.

Dean shook his head. "Nothing."

"Dean?" Mary prompted.

Dean shrugged. "It's just a little weird. Mom is Miss Private Investigator, and you're going to be Mr. Top Lawyer one day. Occult looking tattoos just don't fit the image."

Sam grinned, and for a moment Mary puzzled over it. And then she felt a thrill of pleasure as she thought she'd worked out what had pleased her youngest son. Dean had been talking about Sam's future as a lawyer without doubt in his voice.

They hadn't spoken about it before, and she wasn't sure if Dean and Sam had alone, but with everything that had and was happening, Sam's future had become evading the demon and developing his powers. She thought that Sam might have doubted he could have what he had worked towards for years. She was glad it was being addressed now. Sam did have a future past them stopping the demon, and she'd forgotten that in the face of everything else. She was pleased Dean had reminded them of it.

"Coat, Dean," she commanded, pulling on her own and zipping it. "We're going."

xXx

They got to a tattoo parlor in town, and Mary parked the jeep a little down the street. Sam was out of the car and walking to the door before Dean had even undone his seatbelt and Mary had climbed out.

She peered in through the open door and said, "What's the hold up, Dean?" She frowned. "You're not afraid, are you?"

"No!" Dean said, looking scandalized. "I just feel like I've stepped into The Twilight Zone. It's just going to take me a minute."

"Minute's up," she said. "Let's go."

She slammed the door and followed Sam up the street, hearing the Jeep's door close behind her. Dean fell into step at her side, and they walked to the tattooist where Sam was waiting. When they reached him, he pushed open the door and entered.

The room was decorated with deep red wallpaper and framed prints of tattoo designs on the walls. There was a counter behind which a bored looking teenager with piercings decorating his ear, lips, and eyebrows sat. He looked up slowly and said, "Any of you Carl Briggs?" truculently.

Mary exchanged surprised looks with Sam and Dean and said, "Uh, no."

"Do you have an appointment?"

"No," Mary said.

The kid cracked his knuckles. "Then, unless you're here to book one, we can't help you."

Dean stepped forward, his brows low over his eyes, and Mary caught his arm and pulled him back. She was sure he was still angry about Clark and would probably appreciate the chance to vent on this kid, but she didn't want him raging at him, even though he was annoying her, too.

"Can we just speak to someone?" she asked sweetly. "We just want a consultation."

The kid shrugged and called over his shoulder. "Kelli, people!"

A red curtain opened behind the counter and a woman with violently blue hair stepped out. She was so petite she probably wouldn't reach Sam's chest, and she also had an abundance of piercings on her face, including one—Mary wasn't quite sure how it worked—through her cheek. Tattoos curled up her chest and throat from under her black shirt and the backs of her hands were covered in intricate patterns of roses.

Mary wasn't sure what she was expecting when the woman spoke, but it wasn't the carefully modulated and unaccented voice of a newsreader. "Can I help you?"

"We need tattoos," Mary said.

"They're not in the book," the kid said, tapping the leather-bound tome in front of him.

"Then we'll book now," Mary said. "The sooner the better." She wanted to get the tattoos as fast as they could, the sooner to protect them, but if they had to, they would wait.

The woman considered them and shrugged. "Depends what you want, but I can probably fit you in now."

Mary took the page she'd taken from her journal with the symbol on it and handed it over. "This is what we need. All of us."

The woman, Kelli, examined it and said, "Sure. Come on through. Gregg, call Briggs and tell him we'll have to reschedule him."

The kid scowled. "You sure?"

"I am," Kelli said. "The fact I pay you means I get to be sure." She pulled back to curtain and gestured them through.

Dean shot the kid a smug smile as he walked through the opening, followed by Sam. Mary thanked the kid and went after them into a room with a black leather couch and a table that looked as though it belonged in a hospital.

"Thanks for doing this for us," Mary said. "We'll pay extra."

"Thanks," Kelli said cheerfully. "It's not a hardship to cancel him though. Briggs is known for getting tattoos with his latest love's name on it and then coming back to me to blank them out when they break up. That's no problem, it's an easy job, but listening to him whine about where it all went wrong isn't." She laughed. "Who's first?"

"Me," Mary said, unzipping her coat and laying it on the arm of the couch as Dean and Sam did the same and sat down. She unbuttoned her shirt and slid the strap of her vest down her right shoulder, saying, "I want it here," as she patted her collarbone.

"Sure thing," Kelli said. "Get comfortable."

Mary laid down on the couch and took a breath. She wasn't afraid of pain, hunting sometimes meant pain, but she was uncertain of how it would feel.

Kelli took the journal page to a desk and quickly sketched a copy of the image onto another piece of paper. Dean and Sam watched her carefully from their place as she worked, and then they smiled reassuringly at Mary as Kelli pulled up a rolling chair to the table and said, "Ready?"

When Mary nodded, she grinned and said, "Then let's get to work."

xXx

Mary dropped Sam and Dean off at the motel after they'd all had their tattoos done, instructing them to eat some lunch and then for Sam to rest a while and Dean to take an afternoon off of the journals—not that she expected either of them to really listen—and then drove to Missouri's.

There was an unfamiliar car parked outside her house, and Mary guessed she was with a client, so she sent Missouri a text letting her know she was there and then settled in the car to wait, the radio set to a classic rock station. This music was part of their life and her sons' childhoods. It had been John's favorite, and they'd listened to it on the road. Dean liked the music for itself and for memories, whereas Sam listened patiently, even affectionately, as it was a connection to the father he couldn't remember. Dean still had memories of John playing it to him.

Mary used to complain about John playing it, saying it wasn't exactly soothing to a child, but Dean had still been able to sing along to the chorus of Ramble On by his fourth birthday, and she'd given up then. Sam had no memory of the music's connection to his father, but he'd heard the stories, and he had always connected with their stories. They were all he had.

She had to wait only five minutes before Missouri's door opened and a burly man walked out followed by Missouri. Mary unfolded herself from the seat and passed the man on the path as she walked to the door.

"Sorry for just arriving," Mary said. "I didn't think you'd be busy."

"It's fine. Carl was a last-minute booking. He just broke up with his girlfriend but wanted some reassurance it was the right thing. He said he had a 'sign' that made him doubt."

Mary laughed as she followed Missouri inside. "Let me guess. The sign was his tattoo fix-up being canceled?"

Missouri smiled widely. "You took his spot. Nice work, Mary. Any other time you want to drive business my way, go ahead."

Mary felt no confusion about how Missouri had known as she was used to having her mind read by her old friend.

Missouri closed the door behind them and led her into the kitchen. "You mind if I work while we talk?" she asked. "I was doing some baking."

"Of course not," Mary said, taking a seat at the table.

Missouri took a bowl from the cupboard and cracked eggs into it and began to beat them. "How's everything going with Clark?" she asked.

Mary appreciated the fact she was asking and not just taking the answer from her mind, and she considered her answer.

"Sam was with him a couple hours this morning. I'm not exactly sure what happened between them, but Sam was exhausted when he got back. He's going back to him later."

Missouri nodded and set down the bowl of eggs and began to cream sugar and butter together. "That's good."

"He didn't tell us much about what they did together though," Mary said.

Missouri stopped for a moment and looked at her. "And that bothers you?"

"No," Mary said quickly.

Missouri raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"I want him to have privacy for this. He needs to be able to keep his secrets. I am keeping mine. It's just different. Sam was always so open before. Since the fire… he's so different."

Missouri nodded slowly. "He would be. It's not just the fire. He went through a trauma, he lost the woman he loves, he was sideswiped by the emergence of his gift, and he now knows there is a demon on his tail. It's a lot for anyone to deal with, including you and Dean. It's probably harder for you than Sam."

"No! We're not the ones that are in danger," Mary said fervently. "It's about Sam."

"Exactly. You and Dean are hunters, protectors, and now the person you both love is the one that needs protection, and you don't have the weapon that can do it. And now you're dealing with Clark, too. He's not the easiest person to be around."

"He's not," Mary agreed. "I hate that we have to rely on him. Sam told us he spied on me and Dean."

Missouri sighed. "I wondered if he would. That astral projection is a powerful thing, and he has been known to abuse it. It's a good skill for him to show Sam though. If Sam can master that, it would help him a lot."

"So that he can spy, too?" Mary asked, remembering Dean's reaction.

"No, so he can protect himself and others. If he can master it, he won't be bound by geographical limits. He will be able to go anywhere and see anything if he can just learn the control."

"And how will that help him?" Mary asked.

"It will help him as, if he can connect to him somehow, he can find The Demon and tell you what he is planning."

Mary realized that could be pivotal in them winning the fight that was coming, and it made her stomach swoop to think that there could be a way to see The Demon and know what it was doing and planning. She didn't like that it was Sam that was going to have to do it though. She wanted to protect him from all parts of The Demon, not send him looking for it.

"I can help you get a little privacy," Missouri said, putting down her spoon and going to a drawer where she took a swatch of fabric and began to tip ingredients from jars and bags onto it. She twisted it closed and tied it with a piece of cord. "Here. This won't keep him out, but it will stop him listening." She put it down on the table in front of Mary and said. "Keep that close."

Mary thanked her, thinking of how much better Dean would feel knowing Clark couldn't eavesdrop on their conversations.

Missouri began to stir her bowl again, and said, "He doesn't mean it maliciously, you know."

"He's not doing it for our benefit though."

"No. But perhaps he was doing it for someone else's. Sam's maybe."

Mary sighed. "I wish you'd warned us though."

Missouri turned, cradling the bowl against her stomach. "If you had known what he was like and what he was capable of, would you have brought Sam here?"

"Yes," Mary said without hesitation.

"Perhaps…" Missouri looked thoughtful.

"I would. I don't think I like him, he's abrasive and rude, but he's here to help Sam. What I hate is that I have to rely on him to do what I can't. It was always me and Bobby giving the boys what they needed when they were growing up, and then they started to do the same for us. The four of us were all we needed. Now I have to trust other people to do it. It was okay when it was you, but now it's Clark." She shook her head. "I am trusting him with one of the two most precious people in my world, and I can't help but worry he'll hurt him."

"He won't hurt Sam," Missouri said confidently. "He might make him uncomfortable, and he is going to push him hard, but he is essentially a good person at heart. He is what Sam needs." She smiled. "Besides, he knows better than to upset me if he wants me to keep up my end of the deal."

Mary hadn't thought about why Clark was helping Sam. He clearly wasn't the kind of person that would do it out of the goodness of his heart, so what was motivating him?

"Are you paying him?" she asked.

"In a way," Missouri said. "Not money. I have something he wants, and I have promised I will give it to him if he does this for me.

"What does he want?"

Missouri turned away and began to root in a cupboard again. "That's his story to tell. I haven't told anyone your secret, and I am affording the same respect to Clark." When she turned back to face Mary, she looked sad. "I don't know anything for sure, and I know it's not me and can't be Clark, but something is telling me that secret is only going to be yours alone for a little longer."

Mary felt an icy finger of fear running down her spine and she shivered. "Someone is going to tell them about my deal?"

"I don't know. It's just a feeling, but it is strong. It might be better for you to preempt it and tell them yourself. It would be better coming from you than someone else?"

Mary's heart skipped and then pounded on. She couldn't tell them the truth, ever, but if someone else did…

The only people that knew about her deal were her, Missouri and The Demon himself. If it wasn't her or Missouri that would tell them, was it The Demon? Or had he told someone else that would share the secret, another demon maybe? A demon would be happy to spill the secret to Sam and Dean.

"It could be a demon," Missouri said, clearly following her thoughts. "I don't know anything for sure. I'm just warning you about what I feel."

"Are your feelings ever wrong?" Mary asked.

Missouri winced and her eyes became sad. "Yes. I hurt the person I love most because I was wrong recently."

"Then you have to be wrong this time, too," Mary said decisively.

Missouri's face creased with sadness as she said, "I could be, but, Mary, I really don't think I am."

"You are." Mary was filled with certainty. "I will stop it. If there is someone else that knows, a demon, I will stop them before they have a chance to say anything." She stared into Missouri's eyes, her own blazing with emotion. "I will not lose them."

"Okay," Missouri said. "I'll help if I can. If I see anything coming, I will tell you."

"Thank you," Mary said, getting to her feet. "I should get back to the motel."

She wanted to make sure Sam rested and that Dean gave himself a break, but more than that she wanted to be close to them. She felt a pressing need, overpowering everything else, to look at her sons and tell them she loved them, that she would take care of them, and if she possibly could stop it, she would never let their hearts be broken again.

She would protect them with her life.

So… They got their tattoos and there was some nice foreboding from Missouri. Mary is playing a dangerous game keeping her secret, and it is going to all come out sooner or later.

Until next time…

Clowns or Midgets xxx