July 7, 2006

"GOD DAMNIT!" Dean cringed as the needle finished the second pass over his chest.

The tattoo artist rolled her eyes, "Sir, can you please attempt to hold still?"

"If you promise to take it easy, I'll try." Dean rolled his shoulder as he ground his teeth. Meanwhile Sam was reading a magazine as the male artist worked on his tattoo- the star perched on his left shoulder nearly complete.

Half an hour later Sam and Dean left the Steel and Ink tattoo and piercing parlor. Dean rubbed his chest as he bitterly grumbled. "I swear she had it out for me. I'm bright red!" He lifted his shirt to show his chest.

"Dean, that's what happens when you get a tattoo. Didn't you listen to that whole spiel about how to moisturize it and take care of it afterward? They said it would be red and sensitive for a bit."

Dean sunk his head slightly, "No…"

Sam sighed, "Trust me; it doesn't hurt much after the first few days anyway."

Dean blinked, "Wait. How do you know that?"

Shit. "Uh…."

"Do you have another tattoo?"

Sam pursed his lips.

"I've seen you at the pool. You don't have any visible tattoos…" Dean cringed as he realized, "Please tell me you don't have one on your ass. I don't think I could handle if you have a tramp stamp."

Sam scowled, "Okay, one: it's not called a tramp stamp. And two: it's not on my ass, it's on my thigh." Sam hiked up his shorts. Sure enough, on his right thigh there was a tattoo.

"What the hell is that?" Dean cocked his head sideways.

"It's the Lord's Prayer in the original Greek. I got it for my twenty-first birthday."

"And how drunk were you exactly?"

"Shut up, jerk." Sam blushed, about three beers too many.

"Whatever, bitch." Dean smirked as Sam rolled his eyes.

**SPN**

Bobby was waiting for the two brothers as Dean pulled the Celica into the junkyard. "You boys get what I showed you?"

"Yeah." Dean quickly lifted his shirt as Sam pulled up his sleeve.

"Good. We don't want a demon to try anything worse than you two have already dealt with."

"Seeing one up close is bad enough, I definitely don't want one inside of me." Sam winced, reflecting back on Cold Oak and his near-death experience.

"Speaking of demons, how exactly are we going to get to fight these things? Sam and I have been doing all the readings you emailed me, but neither of us has a clue on how to actually kill one of these things."

"Yeah, it's not like either of us has ever even fired a gun before-unless a couple of 22s at Boy Scout camp counts." Sam added, well aware of the fact that when compared to Dean and Bobby he had little when it came to physical training or conditioning for a fight.

"Honestly there's no way in hell you two are ready for demons, I don't even know if you're ready for basic shit-demons are serious business for the uninitiated." Bobby held up a book, "Look, right now you need to know what's out there. We'll start some basic firearms and hand-to-hand as well, but no real hunts. Just ease you in-which honestly is kinda weird for this business-and once you seem competent I'll see if we can try the real thing in a controlled environment."

"Alright. Seems fair enough." Dean shrugged.

"Good. Let's get started." Bobby grinned wickedly and Dean knew he was about to get even for the last time he visited.

**SPN**

Sure enough, Bobby did make sure to be a bit rougher on Dean than Sam with the physical component of their training. "Alright, last thing for today-" Bobby began, as the two brothers exchanged a thankful look, "-basic hand-to-hand combat. I know Dean can handle himself pretty well, but you have to…" The older hunter quickly grabbed Dean's left arm and flipped him over, knocking the wind out of younger man. Before Dean could react Bobby had his boot on his chest. "Be ready for an attack at any time."

After Bobby removed his boot Dean glared and stood back up, "I suppose I deserved that. But can we call it even, please?" He cracked his back and brushed off the dust that had found its way onto his t-shirt.

"Fair enough. For the rest of the day you two will be practicing defense against surprise attacks. Whichever of you idjits manages to get it over on the other more gets an extra serving of dessert."

"What's for dessert?" Sam asked.

"Blueberry crumb pie."

Dean's eyes narrowed as he grinned at his little brother, "Oh, it is so on."

Dean quickly learned he wasn't as light on his feet as he thought. While he was very good in an even fight, he was completely useless with an unexpected combatant, Sam always heard him whenever he attempted to sneak up on him, and unfortunately for Dean the opposite was true with the younger Beretta. "Damnit Sam! Get off!" Dean threw off his brother as he climbed back onto the sofa. "At least with jujitsu there's an expectation of a fight!"

Sam untangled his gangly limbs as he stood up, smirking, "What're you mad because it's six-nil?"

"Shut up." Dean pouted.

"Does the big-bad second-degree black belt not like that his nerdy little brother is winning at something athletic?" Sam teased, knowing Dean's ego with athletics.

"I said cram it!" Dean picked up a book on shapeshifters and tried to look busy.

**SPN**

A few hours later, after Sam's second serving of blueberry crumb pie-Boy Bobby, the second slice is somehow even better than the first!-and Bobby giving Dean a second slice as well-Because you've been sulking all damn afternoon-the brothers mended their spat and decided to join Bobby in a quick round of cards.

"Shit, did you mark these cards Bobby?" Dean muttered after the older hunter showed his third full house of the evening.

Bobby cast a glance at Dean, "No, but I wouldn't have to considering how poor at poker both of y'all are."

Sam shrugged, he didn't deny that he was poor at cards-Dad was never much into them and with the exception of a few summer vacations at their grandparents (who didn't own a television) he and Dean rarely played. He scooted his chair back to get up and get a drink when the leg on the antique chair popped loose. Sam shielded his face as he anticipated falling to the ground, but after a few seconds opened his eyes. The chair was balanced sideways, defying gravity as Sam was perched comfortably on top. Both Bobby and Dean were gawking as the tension broke and Sam finally fell to the ground.

"Sammy… What the hell just happened?" Dean looked at his brother, who was sitting up on the hardwood floor.

"I don't know… Somehow I didn't fall for a few seconds." Sam looked at the chair. It lay beside him, a second leg having fallen out as a result of its eventual tumble to the floor.

"I think Sam might've just uncovered a hidden talent." Bobby stood up and helped him to his feet.

"What, telekinesis?" Dean glanced at the chair. "If so, that's pretty kick-ass."

Sam stood back up and brushed himself off, "Wait, how do I have more than one thing? I thought I could just see people's deaths." He pointed at his amulet, "And this is supposed to stop that."

"Well, maybe the amulet helped channel some of that energy elsewhere. Since you can't do the whole minority report thing, it went to whatever your backup is?" Dean ventured, to which Bobby nodded.

Well great. I'm an even bigger freak. "Not to say I'm ungrateful, but I don't exactly want to be telekinetic thanks to being part hell-spawn!"

"Sammy, as much as it sucks that you have demon blood there isn't a way to undo it. We can use it to our advantage though. If that yellow-eyed freak decides to do something we need to be ready, and if you can use your Criss Angel mindfreak powers to help stop him…" Dean paused at his brother's self-loathing look, "Look at me Sam." Sam glanced up, "You were given this ability by a demon, yes, but that doesn't make you evil. God puts challenges in all our lives-and look at any of the big ones in the Bible: Jonah, Moses, Paul; all of them had to fight against the world and overcome part of themselves in order to overcome evil with light." Dean smiled at Sam.

Sam reciprocated, "Okay. Fine. But what exactly do I do with this whole thing since I have no idea how to use it?" He glanced at Bobby.

"I don't know. I'm going to have to do some research, then I'll let you boys know. For now, just focus on the training so far. I'll figure out the rest."

"Thanks Bobby." Sam smiled weakly, "And sorry about your chair."

"No problem, your brother did worse last time. I just need to remember that you two are disaster magnets." He chuckled as Sam sat down in a different chair and began dealing a new hand.