Summary: Sam F. learns a surprising fact about his mother, Ben and Sam get tattoos and orders from Garth, and school begins for some AfterJack hunters
"So, first order of business," Sam said, as the truck bounced along, "we need to head to town and get ourselves tattoos. And Momma, too."
Ben nodded and the two drove to the front of the house. They climbed out of the truck and headed inside. Sam went directly to the kitchen, but Bess wasn't there. "Momma? Momma, where are you? I need to talk to you!"
Bess came downstairs with a full laundry basket against her hip. She shook her head at her son. "Sam, why y'all hollerin' like that for?"
Sam took the basket from his mother's hands and headed to the laundry room. "Ben and I are headin' into town, going to Roadhawg's tattoo parlor to get the anti-possession sigil tattooed on us." He set the basket on the floor, opened the washing machine, and started tossing jeans and t-shirts into the drum. "I was wonderin' if y'all wanted to come, I figure it would be smart for you to get the tattoo too."
He started chuckling and repeating "tattoo too" under his breath as he added laundry detergent. He closed the washing machine door, turned a couple dials, pressed a button, and the cycle began. He turned to face his mother, who was smiling.
"What makes y'all think I don't already have one, son?" Bess said with a twinkle in her eye.
"Well, I've never seen it," Sam replied.
Bess walked up to her son and patted his cheek. "Well, maybe it's in a place that y'all aren't supposed to see on your momma."
Ben roared with laughter while Sam turned a deep red, face burning with embarrassment. He faked a dry heave and stepped back. "Momma! Please! That's disgustingly T-M-I! I don't need that in my head!"
He faked another gag and headed for the front door. "We'll see you later, Momma."
Sam and Ben headed back to the truck, Ben still laughing and Sam still trying not to think any thoughts about tattoos and the private places of his dear, saintly mother.
"That was not how I was expectin' that conversation to go," Sam said, as he drove towards the highway that led into the town of Sharon Springs. "So, Roadhawg runs the only tattoo parlor in the area. Most of his work is actually tattooing ID numbers on cattle, but he's assured me he uses different equipment on his human clients."
Ben gave Sam a skeptical look, not sure if the guy was shining him on.
"No, I'm serious," Sam said with a chuckle, noticing Ben's look. "Sharon Springs is in the middle of nowhere, it's a tiny town, we don't even have a Walmart. Gotta drive 30 minutes north to Goodland. And since there's more cattle than people, Roadhawg does it all."
Sam pulled into a driveway, and he and Ben got out. They walked to a side door of a two-story house, Sam knocked, opened the door, and the two men went inside. They could hear the mandolin and guitar strum sounds of Copperhead Road by Steve Earle playing in the tattoo studio.
"Roadhawg!" Sam called, walking up to a man sitting on a bar stool, typing on a laptop. The man turned, and smiled.
"Sammy! Good to see ya! We ready for some ink?" the tattoo artist grinned.
Sam showed Roadhawg the design he and Ben wanted, and they both decided to get it done on their right bicep. Ben sat in the chair, and with a buzzing hum, Ben got his tattoo started.
"What did you find, Claire?" Sam asked. He had his phone on speaker and it was on the desk next to him. He had a map open on his computer and was looking through Sam Winchester's journal. "So there was definitely sulfur at the house?"
"Yes, Sam," Claire replied, sounding bored.
"According to the journal, that's definitely demon-sign," Sam said. "My guess is we summon a demon into a devil's trap and ask it some questions."
"I haven't had to do one of those in years," Claire said, "bet it's just like riding a bike."
"Great. I think before you deal with demons, you should get the Bradburys their tattoos. No need to tempt fate," Sam suggested.
"Will do," Claire replied before ending the call.
Sam dialed his father.
"I don't even know what I'm supposed to be on the lookout for, Pops," Sam complained into his phone. He was scrolling through the documents Dean had sent him, flagging some files he felt would be more relevant to the immediate situation. "Claire is dealing with Boulder, and she's getting the Bradbury sisters their tattoos. She knows what to look for -"
Ben spun around on his chair, listening to Sam's side of the conversation. His upper right arm stung a bit from his own tattoo.
"I think Ben and I should pack up the computer equipment in the barn and haul it to the bunker. It's already warded and protected -"
Sam rubbed his eyes with his fingers, listening to his father. "Pops - Pops -" Sam gave up trying to get a word in edgewise and puffed up his cheeks, holding his breath as Garth continued to talk over him. "Okay. Yes. We'll need some time to pack the gear up, and we'll leave first thing tomorrow morning. Okay. Yes. See you then."
Sam leaned back in the chair, closed his eyes, and sighed. "I love him. I really do. But, Jesus on a biscuit, he can talk, and he loves to micromanage."
Ben chuckled to be polite and stopped spinning. "So what do we need to do?"
"I'm gonna hitch the trailer to my pickup," Sam said, coming alert and standing. "Then, we're gonna pack up all the computer equipment, comms equipment, and the contents of the barn gun safe."
"Got it, boss," Ben said, getting to his feet. "I'll start unplugging."
Sam left the barn to deal with the trailer, and Ben started unplugging computers and monitors, wrapping cords and wires. Keyboards and computer mouses were put into a box. It took them the better part of four hours to get the necessary parts of the barn packed up and stored on the trailer. While the barn had air conditioning, the work was physical and their fresh tattoos let them know in no uncertain terms they were working up a sweat. They each showered (mindful of their ink), Ben pulled on yet another set of borrowed clothes, and they drove up to the main house for dinner.
"I made up the bed in Castiel's room," Bess said as Sam and Ben cleared the dinner table. "There's no need for you to haul yourself back out to the barn and be alone, not when we've got a couple'a empty rooms here."
"Thank you, Mrs. F," Ben said gratefully. "I don't mean to be rude, but I'm gonna fall into bed. I'm used to manual labor, and working in the heat, but I think getting the ink, and worrying about my mother is taking more out of me than I thought. Sam, we'll head out at 7?"
Sam nodded. "Sounds good to me. Do y'all maybe want to drive Makoa's truck? We can travel caravan style. I think having an extra vehicle would be good. And it'll give you a certain amount of freedom of travel."
"Yeah, that's a good idea," Ben replied as he headed up the stairs.
"Third door on the left!" Sam hollered after him.
"Alright, ladies, pay close attention," Claire instructed the three younger women with her. "Since I'm doing the summoning, my photo goes into the box, along with dirt from a graveyard and the skull of a black cat. And yes, it has to be a black cat."
LaGuin and Jemisin were carefully spray painting a devil's trap in the center of the crossroad. Claire watched and made sure no mistakes were being made. Mary Shelley held the printout of the trap and was directing her sisters with regard to what and where the various symbols needed to go.
"Normally," Claire explained, "we wouldn't need to trap a crossroads demon. A demon is summoned, a deal is made, and everything is fine for 10 years. Then the Hellhounds come to collect. As long as the demon is sticking to the arrangement, we've been ignoring them. And for the most part, they disappeared after Jack became God. However, since we want information, we're going to trap us a demon."
Claire looked over the devil's trap and nodded. She carefully stepped into the trap and buried the metal box. She quickly stepped out of the trap and looked around.
"Do you need to say anything?" LaGuin asked.
"No, this - " Claire started to say.
"Oh, come on!" a voice whined. The four women looked at the figure now standing in the center of the devil's trap. "First time I'm topside in forty years, and it's gotta be hunters?"
The woman made to snap out, but nothing happened. She looked down and actually stomped a foot. "AND a devil's trap?"
"You done having a tantrum?" Claire asked.
"If I say no, will you let me go?" the demon asked hopefully. Claire shook her head and the demon sighed. "And I don't suppose any of you want to make a deal?"
"No again," Claire said. "I need you to answer a few questions. If you cooperate, I'll let you go."
"Seriously?" the demon asked with an arched eyebrow. The three sisters looked at Claire in surprise. The demon considered the proposition for a minute before nodding. "Okay, what are your questions?"
Claire folded her arms across her chest. "Lisa Braeden. Who took her?"
The demon smiled. "That was an old score that needed settling. Crowley sent a few minions to grab her again."
Claire barely managed to control her face to show no reaction to the news that Crowley was indeed back. "Where is she being held?"
"I don't know," the demon answered, shaking her head.
"What you fail to realize is who exactly Lisa Braeden is," Claire said in a quiet, calm voice. LaGuin and Jemisin looked at one another. Claire's quiet calm was dangerous. "See, she has a son, by the name of Ben. But what's more relevant to your situation is that Dean Winchester is Ben's daddy. And I don't mean in a kinky role-playing kinda way. Lisa was Dean Winchester's baby momma."
"Really! I don't know!" stuttered the demon. The name Dean Winchester still carried weight, and still struck fear with the monsters.
"Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus," Claire began chanting. The demon shook and screamed.
"Stop! I'll tell you!"
Claire stopped the incantation and watched the trapped, desperate demon.
"There's - there's some speck on the map place called Last Chance, Colorado. There's an abandoned warehouse. Lisa'll be there."
"How many demons are guarding the place?" Claire asked.
"I don't know," the demon threw her hands out. "Really! I don't!"
Claire considered the demon and the information it provided. Without a word, she broke the devil's trap with the toe of her boot. The demon vanished immediately.
"Why did you let her go?" Jemisin asked. "Aren't we supposed to hunt and kill those things?"
The elder hunter took her phone out and dialed a number as she explained to the others. "First of all, it's an "it", not a "she". And second, I felt it best to keep my word this time. If word got out that we promised freedom for information, but ganked the demons anyway, they won't have any incentive to cooperate."
She turned slightly as Sam answered his phone. "Sam, sorry to wake you, but we got a line on where Lisa Braeden is. Something tells me Ben'll want in on this rescue. I'll send you the coordinates and you can pass it on to him. Also, send him my contact info."
Claire disconnected the call and nodded to Mary Shelley, LaGuin, and Jemisin. "LaGuin, I sent you the coordinates, we'll meet there and do some recon while we wait for Ben to arrive. He's got a little further to drive."
The three sisters got into their car, and Claire climbed into her truck. Engines roared in the night, dirt and gravel spat from under tires, and they headed east.
Sam shook Ben awake and relayed the message. Ben was up in seconds, grabbing for his clothes, keys, phone, and wallet. Sam handed him a long silver blade. "This is an angel blade, but it works just fine on demons too."
Ben nodded his thanks, followed Sam quietly down the stairs and out the front door. He climbed into Makoa's truck and drove away from the Fitzgerald farm, heading back west. He didn't envy the hunter lifestyle of crisscrossing the United States to kill the things that go bump in the night, but he suddenly wished he wasn't so terrified of flying.