ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ: "I swear if that bitch scratched you..."
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"SO."

Venus looked up at the sound of Dean's voice. She was sitting in the front seat of the Impala for the first time in months, a random book in her lap, facial expression neutral in a way that Dean knew meant she was mad. "So?" she repeated, finally looking at him for the first time since they began the drive.

Dean glanced over, eyes alternating between her and the road. She was in the corner of the bench, damn near glued to the window and purposely sitting as far away from him as humanly possible. "You haven't said a word since we got in the car...an hour ago."

Venus sighed, turning her attention back to the book she was reading. "I got hit in the head with a pistol, Dean. It still hurts, so no I don't feel like talking," she answered, firmly.

She lied, it didn't really hurt that much anymore.

"I'm sorry."

Venus paused her reading and peeked over at him, finding his eyes already on her. "For what?" she pressed. She wanted to hear him say why, to know he truly meant it.

"For the gas station," he continued, fingers tapping a nervous beat against the steering wheel. This was hard for him, apologizing. Normally it would be unspoken, with Venus and Sam knowing he was sorry via some other way, a nod, a glance—something that didn't include him saying the actual words. That was easier. But this time around, he knew he would need to apologize from the moment it happened. He knew that their fresh label made things different from the past, set new expectations.

And surprisingly he found himself okay with that because he'd do anything to make her happy, to replace that scowl on her face with the smile he loved so much.

"It's not an excuse but I was just...scared and worried about all this shit going on with Sam. I shouldn't have said what I said," he ended.

Venus' eyes settled back on the book in her lap, not saying anything for some time. "You were right though," she eventually replied, surprising Dean, "My doubts were getting in the way and that shouldn't have happened. I should've stayed focused."

"It was never about you staying focused," Dean paused, his apprehension clear on his face, "I think...I was just in denial. But you were right anyway, I mean, look what we found, what he did to us at the motel. Hell, I don't even wanna think about what we're about to catch him doing."

"Listen, just..." she trailed off, closing her book and shifting to face him, "Choose your words better next time, okay?"

Dean nodded in understanding, visibly relieved. "I will."

Fairly satisfied, Venus turned back in her seat, glancing out the window. She pondered, for a few moments longer this time. "It's so unlike him," she muttered, brows knitted together slightly.

"Sam?" Dean scoffed, "Yeah, understatement of the year." 

Venus' head snapped in his direction, something suddenly dawning on her. "So what if it's not him?" she posed.

Dean's brows furrowed, the older hunter picking up what she was putting down. "You think he's possessed."

"How did I not see it before?" Venus whispered to herself, holding her face in her hands, "He said it felt like he'd been asleep for a month," she continued, loud enough for Dean to hear, "and that video of him killing that hunter? There's not a bone in Sam's body capable of that kind of cruelty. That was pure evil."

"Hey, don't blame yourself for this, there's no way we could've known," Dean tried to stop the guilt flaring through her.

Venus tried not to think about the other signs they missed, now tossing her book onto the backseat, and sliding closer to Dean on the front bench. Dean brought a hand around her shoulders and pulled her flush against his side, pressing a sweet kiss to her forehead as she snuggled into him.

"We'll save him, don't worry," he said, mostly believing it.

-ˋˏ | ˎˊ-

"Sam!"

Sam yanked a knife out of the wooden pillar where he had a short blonde bound and gagged. He held it to her throat threateningly, looking up to see Venus and Dean running into the tavern, guns in hand. "I begged one of you to stop me!" he bellowed in a voice that Venus had rarely, if ever, heard from him.

"Put the knife down, Sam," she pleaded, glancing worriedly at the blonde he had tied up. Her hair was covering the side of her face, but Venus could see the large bruise forming on the top of her forehead. What the hell was he doing with this poor girl?

"I told you, I can't fight it!" he shouted, nearly shaking with rage, "My head feels like it's on fire, alright?"

Venus took a small step closer, tightening her grip on her gun. "I got you, buddy, just put the knife down and we can help you," she kept her tone pleading, as if trying to talk him off a ledge. 

"There's only one way to help me," he sneered, "One of you kill me, or I'm gonna kill her."

Dean and Venus took a step closer, each looking at Sam's hostage in concern.

"Please! You'd be doing me a favor."

Doing the damn demon inside him a favor, sure, Venus thought. 

"Shoot me," Sam then removed the knife from the woman's neck. He held his arms open, making himself a clear target, "Shoot me!"

It was then that Venus got a perfect view of the tied-up woman's face.

It was Jo Harvelle.

"Jo, oh my God," she muttered in horror. Jo stared back at her, teary-eyed and writhing in her binds. Venus' breath caught in her throat. She lowered her gun immediately. "Sam, let me help her. Please," she begged, shoving her beretta back in her jeans and holding her hands out.

"Shoot me first!" he screamed back, his volume causing the brunette to flinch.

Dean's lips quivered, the battle inside him clear on his face. He eventually shook his head. "No, Sammy, come on," he lowered his gun, turning away from his younger brother.

Sam's brows furrowed angrily, his steps booming through the bar as he marched over to Dean. "What's the hell's wrong with you, Dean?"

Venus took his moment of distraction to run over to Jo's side, pulling a small knife from her jacket pocket to cut the rope holding her hands.

"Are you that scared of being alone that you'd rather let Jo die?"

Venus was suddenly alerted by the sounds of Sam's screams, looking up to see Dean tossing water at him. "That's holy water, you demonic son of a bitch!"

The sound of sizzling flesh filled the air, the younger hunter backing into the other side of the wooden beam where Jo was tied up. Venus moved faster to cut her free, keeping herself out of Sam's reach.

Dean continued, almost emptying his flask. But soon, Sam barreled towards the closest window, jumping out in a heap of groans and pained shouts.

Venus finally cut the last of Jo's rope, watching the girl quickly pull the kitchen towel being used to gag her. She moved to stand in front of her, hand delicately cradling the uninjured side of her face. "He didn't hurt you too bad otherwise, right?" Venus hurriedly questioned, seeing Dean prepare to jump out the window from the corner of her eye.

Jo shook her head, also pulling Venus in for a hug.

Venus held her, stroking the younger girl's hair as her sobs muffled in her shoulder. "You're okay, Jo, you're okay," she consoled her.

Jo pulled away first, using a hand to wipe her face. "Wait, you need to go. Go help Dean."

"You sure? I can stay here with you," Venus offered, her worry for the girl evident in her voice.

"If he's really possessed, Dean's gonna need all the help he can get. Go."

Venus huffed worriedly, giving the blonde a final once over. "Please stay here and put some ice on that." And then she was gone.

Venus followed the last of Dean's steps to a warehouse attached to a dock, keeping her steps hushed, and entered to find him pointing his gun at nothing.

Dean tensed at first then relaxed, seeing it was her. He gestured forward and then to the right side of the warehouse, wordlessly telling her that's where Sam went.

Venus quietly pulled out her gun and nodded, telling him to take the lead. She kept close to him, eyes and ears on high alert, gun gripped low in front of her.

She spotted Sam's shadow rushing past some wooden containers and instinctively pointed her gun in his direction, alerting Dean. But they both lost sight of him.

"So, who are you?" Dean loudly asked.

"I got lots of names," Sam's voice sounds from some distance away.

Venus and Dean move in step with each other, silent and focused, maneuvering through the rows and columns of the small warehouse. They were no doubt getting closer to him.

"You've been in Sam since he disappeared, haven't you?"  Venus speaks this time, she and Dean pressed against a shelf and peeking around the corner of it. Sam's not there.

"Should've seen your face when you thought he murdered that guy," Sam, or the demon, replied, mocking her, "Pathetic."

Venus rolled her eyes, moving out from behind Dean and stopping by a dusty barrel, crouching behind it. Dean followed, both panting once they settled, their breaths visible in the air before them thanks to the early February chill.

"Why didn't you kill us? You had a dozen chances," Dean called out.

A sudden thud to their left drew their attention, but Venus caught herself, instead focusing on the footsteps she heard to her right. She tapped Dean's arm, bringing his attention to it. They move further into the warehouse.

"Nah, that would've been too easy," the demon mused, "Where's the fun in that?"

Venus' eyes are widened slightly, in a state of hyperfocus. She glances at everything within her view, also listening to every little sound that resounds in the air. She heard the chamber of Sam's gun click, and instantly grabbed Dean's arm and pulled him in its direction, crouching behind a stack of boxes.

"See this was a test," he continued, "I wanted to see if I could push one of you far enough to waste Sam. I should've known neither of you had the sack. Anyway, fun's over now."

"Well, I hope you got your kicks," Dean taunted, " 'Cause you're gonna pay hell for this, I'm gonna make sure of that."

"How? You can't hurt me, not without hurting your little brother."

Well...he had a point.

"See I think you're both gonna die, you and every other hunter I can find. One look at Sam's dewy, sensitive eyes and they'll let me right in that door."

The older hunters remained still, neither saying another word. Dean placed his gun in his jacket, instead reaching for his flask. Venus returned her gun to her waistband. She couldn't shoot Sam if she tried.

The creaking of a wooden door met their ears next. Venus stood to see Sam's shadow exiting the warehouse and making a run for the dock.

Venus and Dean followed, coming to a stop by the corner of another wooden structure. They waited for a moment then peeked around the corner of it. Sam was nowhere to be found.

Dean stepped out first, eyes still looking around the empty dock, while Venus walked over to the edge of the dock, looking out at the water. Dean comes to join her, also looking for a sign of Sam.

But Venus suddenly froze, the hairs on the back of her neck standing up. She slowly craned her neck back to see Sam standing in the middle of the dock, pointing his gun at them, with no hesitation in his eyes.

Dean barely had time to turn before he heard a gunshot and felt Venus cover his body with hers. Whether it was the gunshot itself or Venus tackling him, it sent them both flying into the frigid blue waters.

Venus registered the low temperature of the water before she registered the bullet in the back of her upper arm.

She seized Dean's arm beneath the water, both hurriedly swimming beneath the dock and out of Sam's sight. Once her head broke the surface, Venus was met with a wide-eyed Dean, the man immediately grabbing her body and pulling her close to him, frantically examining her body for the bullet wound. He soon looked down at the right arm of her jacket to see a bleeding hole in the flesh of her bicep. "Shit," he muttered, looking around for the closest ramp.

"It's not that bad, I swear," Venus brushed it off, blinking faster than usual.

Once he was sure that Sam was gone, Dean grabbed Venus' uninjured arm and slung it around him, pulling most of her weight onto himself and keeping her above water as best as he could.

Venus tried to swim with him but found that every movement against the water sent a blinding pain shooting up her arm. The water itself felt like shards of ice against her. She attempted to silence the pained hisses and winces that bubbled in her throat but failed. 

Dean heard it all and he was pissed. Or at least looked pissed, from what Venus could tell.

Venus held onto Dean until the ramp came into view. She then mustered all the strength she could to separate from him and launch herself up and onto the wood, eager to escape the water. She landed flat on her back, shivering and whimpering in pain.

Dean climbed up next, crouching by her side and helping her to her feet. "I got you," he muttered. Their ears soon caught footsteps approaching, both looking up to see a frantic Jo running in their direction.

"Are you guys okay?" the blonde asked once she came close enough.

"Peachy," Venus sent her a trembling thumbs up and a strained smile.

"She got shot," Dean explained grimly, moving to sweep her up into a bridal hold. 

But she stopped him. "I got shot in the arm, not the leg, Dean," she insisted, holding her position on the ground.

"You're shaking," Dean pointed out, tightening his grip on her side despite his fingers growing numb by the second.

Jo rushed over, helping Dean hold Venus upward.

"I told you guys, I'm fine," Venus attempted to lie again.

"Shut up," they told her in unison, beginning the walk back.

Five minutes later found them in the bar, with Venus sitting at one of the rickety old tables in just a tank top—her bloody jacket and sweater hung over the back of another chair—Dean knelt beside her, a tweezer firmly clutched in his hand, oddly silent.

Jo walked over and placed a small bottle of whiskey and painkillers on the table in front of Venus, also putting down some rubbing alcohol, gauze, and tape for when Dean was finished.

"Thanks, Jo," Venus sent her a small smile. She quickly threw back a few of the pills and opened the bottle of liquor, swallowing a mouthful within seconds. It burned like hell going down but it couldn't be worse than the pain she was about to face.

Jo returned her smile and sent Dean a nod before making her way to the back of the tavern, giving the two a moment to themselves.

Venus took another sip of the whiskey then lifted her arm for Dean to hold, taking a few deep breaths. "Ready."

Dean gently gripped her arm, moving close enough to the wound to spot the bullet, and carefully reached in with the tool to grab it, thankful that it didn't hit an artery. Venus bit her lip while he worked, eyes slamming shut at the newfound pain. She tried not to tense up too much, knowing it would only hurt more. Eventually, she just grabbed the bottle again, chugging even more whiskey.

"Done," Dean finally announced, dropping the bullet into an awaiting shot glass.

Venus sighed audibly, relaxing in her chair.

The rest of the time Dean worked on cleaning and patching her wound, he remained silent, not even looking up at her.

Venus ultimately got tired of it, having an idea of what was bothering him.

"No matter how much I bruised that ego of yours it can't hurt more than this bullet wound," she broke the silence.

Dean deadpanned.

"What?" Venus scoffed, "Laugh, it's funny."

"No, it's not funny, Venus," he sneered, "A few more inches to the left and that bullet could've paralyzed you, or even killed you."

Venus sighed. "Better me than you."

"No. Better me than you. Always." Dean firmed.

"Dean I can protect mysel-"

"Yeah, that's all well and good until you end up dead. And then what? Huh? How am I supposed to..." he trailed off, taking a shaky breath and looking away.

Venus' brows furrowed slightly, the woman now understanding his real feelings beneath the angry exterior. She watched as he picked up the gauze and medical tape. "Hey," Venus tilted her head to meet his eyes where they were locked onto her arm, "I'm sorry if I scared you."

Dean harshly exhaled, shaking his head with a humorless laugh.

"Huff and puff all you want tough guy, you were scared."

Dean locked eyes with her, jaw clenching rhythmically. "Yeah, whatever," he eventually replied, forcing a smile onto his face.

Venus carefully reached over with her uninjured hand and pulled Dean's face in to meet his lips in a kiss, feeling him immediately melt into her. It was short, but enough to send relief coursing through them once they pulled away. The couple stayed close, now connected by their foreheads. And for that moment, no words passed between them, with each of their eyes closed as Venus soothingly ran her hand over the side of Dean's face. She smiled once she felt him press a kiss to the inside of her wrist. "I'm okay," she whispered.

Dean nodded then slowly lifted his head up, leaning up to kiss her forehead as well. He cleared his throat lowly. "This better be the last time you get shot, Castillo," he joked.

"Ah, I can't promise you that, Winchester," she reached over for the whiskey, "It's good for the plot," Venus smirked, lifting the bottle in the air and then finishing the contents in one firm gulp.

Dean rolled his eyes and returned to patching up her wound, just in time for Jo to stroll over with a bigger bottle of whiskey and three glasses.

"Perfect timing, Jo," Venus grinned.

The blonde grabbed a chair and sat beside the hunters, pouring a glass of the amber-brown liquid for herself and then taking a sip. She eyed the two as she sat there, a smile spreading onto her face once she spotted not only how Venus watched Dean, but also how he was looking at Venus—like she was the only thing in the world that mattered at that moment. "Dean and Venus sittin' in a tree..."

Venus glared playfully at the younger girl. "Joanna Beth," she called out in warning.

Jo smirked and took another sip of her whiskey. "So, how'd you guys know that he was possessed?"

Venus and Dean shared a look before the brunette answered. "Call it an educated guess."

"V, I uh...I know demons lie but do they ever tell the truth too?"

Venus shrugged. "Sometimes, sure. Especially if they know it'll mess with your head—Ouch!" she turned to where Dean had pressed down on her wound a bit too harshly.

"How else am I supposed to get the damn tape to stick?" he reasoned.

Venus narrowed her eyes at him and then looked back at Jo, who was now deep in thought. "Why do you ask?" she pressed, brows furrowing in concern.

"Nothing," Jo quickly answered, "It doesn't matter." Before Venus could prod further, Jo continued. "So, you two have any idea where he's headed to next?"

"So far, he's been going after the nearest hunter," Dean explained, putting on the finishing touches on Venus' bandages, "The closest ones I know are in South Dakota."

Venus' eyes slammed shut in realization. "Tío and Bobby," she concluded.

"Good," Jo sprung up from her chair, "Dean's done, so let's go."

Venus stood to her feet in record time, holding back a wince at the slight pain that flew through her arm. "You're not coming, Jo."

Jo recoiled in offense. "The hell I'm not. I'm a part of this now."

Dean helped Venus back into a fresh sweater from her bag, listening to the argument unfolding.

"Jo, you try and follow us and I will call your mother," Venus said, not a hint of humor in her voice.

"Wha—"

Venus raised an open palm, leaving no room for argument. "I'm so serious. I will send her our coordinates right now."

Jo flopped back into her seat, lips curved somewhere between a frown and a pout.

Venus took a step closer to her, face softening. "I'm not exactly at a hundred percent right now. So if I take you out there, I can't protect you."

"I never asked you to."

"Doesn't matter. I'm not risking it. This is not your fight."

Jo remained silent, folding her arms into her chest.

Venus sighed but reached down to press a kiss to the crown of the blonde's head. "See you around Jo."

-ˋˏ | ˎˊ-

By the time Venus and Dean got to Bobby, the sun had risen.

Even though their attempts at calling him and Arturo failed, Bobby still managed to get the drop on Sam, knocking him out and tying him up like a present for when they arrived.

After a much-needed hug and catch-up with her uncle, Venus walked into Bobby's living room, eyeing an unconscious Sam and the devil's trap painted on the ceiling above him. She came to a stop beside Dean and the bucket of holy water by his foot, arms folded into her chest.

"Bobby you are a goddamn legend," she sent the older man a grin.

"It's like I told him, you can't con a conman," Bobby returned the girl's smile, "You need me to get you that page with the exorcism?"

Venus faced Sam's limp figure. "Nope. Had it memorized for about a year now," she then glanced at Dean, "Wake him up."

 A swift backhand to Sam's face seemed to do the job.

The demon woke up with a groan, first looking at the devil's trap above him, then at the hunters. "Dean, back from the dead," he taunted, "Getting to be a regular thing for you, isn't it? Like a cockroach."

"How about I smack that smart ass right outta your mouth?" Dean snarled.

"Careful now. Wouldn't wanna bruise this fine packaging."

Venus picked up the bucket of water with her good hand and stepped forward. "Don't you worry. This isn't gonna hurt Sam much. You on the other hand..." she paused to throw the water square in his chest, hearing his skin sizzle and demonic grunts fly past his lips, "You feel like talking now?" she cocked her head to the side in question.

"Sam's still my meat puppet, I'll make him bite off his tongue," the demon threatened, a crazed glint in his eyes.

Venus took a step closer, leaning over to look the demon in the eyes. "Look at you making threats," she smirked, "You won't be in him long enough for that though."

Before it could mouth off any further, Venus stepped back and began the exorcism, reciting the Latin words from memory without a hitch.

Dean spoke alongside her, further heckling the demon. Venus tuned him out, only paying attention to how Sam began hyperventilating, his head twisting every which way as the ritual took its toll.

But then he started laughing. It was so loud that it caught Venus off guard, the exorcism coming to a standstill.

"You really think that's what this is about? The master plan?" Sam began, "I don't give a rat's ass about the master plan."

Venus rolled her eyes and continued the exorcism. "Humiliare sub potenti manu Dei–"

"Oops!" Sam loudly interrupted her, "Doesn't seem to be working."

And it was only then that Venus realized that he was right. She read an entire line and he didn't flinch once.

"See, I learned a few new tricks," Sam said before lowering his head, muttering his own Latin spell to himself.

Venus' eyes frantically met Bobby's, the older hunter equally confused. They both concentrated on the words he was saying, never having heard this specific incantation before.

The fire in Bobby's fireplace suddenly lept out, forcing Bobby to jump out of its path. The house's foundation even began shaking, papers and books flying out of place.

Arturo entered the room, resting on his crutches. "What happened?" he questioned worriedly.

Venus' eyes widened. If things were about to go as bad as she thought, this was the last place he needed to be. "Tío, go back to your room, please!" she turned and shouted over the commotion.

The long-haired man looked around the room for a moment then nodded, deciding to listen to his niece for once.

"This isn't going like I pictured," Dean bellowed, "What's going on guys?"

Venus eyed Sam, brows wrinkling at the sight of something peeking out of one of the sleeves of his shirt. "Bobby," she drew the man's attention to it, watching him yank Sam's shirt up further. It was a circle with a line through it, burned into Sam's flesh.

"It's a binding link!" he told them, "It's like a lock! It locked itself inside Sam's body!"

"Shit, shit, shit," Venus panicked, grabbing Bobby's lore book off the floor.

Dean looked between her and Bobby. "What the hell do we do?"

Venus was flipping through the pages, skimming for anything that mentioned binding links. She found nothing. "I don't know."

The demon's chanting continued for a short while after, only stopping once Bobby's ceiling cracked, severing the devil's trap. Everything went still, eerily so.

"There," Sam cracked his neck, black eyes on display, "That's better."

Within seconds they were each thrown to a corner of the room by an unseen force, starting with Bobby, then Venus, then Dean.

Venus was grateful that the side she landed on wasn't her injured arm. But it still hurt like a bitch.

She slowly stumbled to her feet, shaking her vision back to normal and waking Bobby up. Meanwhile, Sam beelined for Dean, grabbing him by his collar and delivering a series of blows to his face. Venus didn't bother listening to the demon's words, instead turning to Bobby. "How do we get the brand off?" she whispered.

Bobby blinks a few times, pressing the heel of his palm to his head, no doubt fighting a concussion.

Venus glanced behind her to see Dean's nose and mouth bleeding, his head in Sam's firm grip.

"And you sent me back there," was the last thing she heard the demon say to him.

"Meg," Dean sneered in recognition.

Venus turned back to where Bobby was mostly gaining consciousness. "B-Burn...it off," he barely managed to tell her.

Venus nodded and ran over to the fireplace, grabbing a poker and sticking it in the flame. She redirected her attention to Dean and the demon as she waited for it to heat up.

"...I saw your dad there," Sam said after a particularly hard punch to Dean's head, "He says 'Howdy'. All that I had to hold on to was that I would climb out one day and that I was gonna torture you, nice and slow–"

Sam's rant is promptly interrupted by Venus' boot delivering a harsh kick to his face, knocking him away from Dean. "Not today, bitch," she snarled, orange hot fire poker in hand.

He writhed in pain on the floor, not getting a chance to recover before Venus kneeled beside him and grabbed his right arm in a firm grip. She pressed the iron to the circular brand on his forearm, holding it long enough to break the link despite his screams.

Meg scattered from Sam's mouth in the usual cloud of black smoke, flying through the messy room and eventually vanishing through the fireplace.

Venus released Sam's arm once it was over, crawling to where Dean was hunched over in pain. She helped him into a sitting position the best she could with one arm. Looking closer at his injuries.

But behind her Sam seemed to be awake, the younger hunter shuffling away and backing into a nearby crate. He quickly clutched his arm, the pain of the burn settling in before anything else.

Dean gestured for Venus to move to his other side, wanting a clearer view of him. "Sammy?" he grunted.

Sam takes in the scene around him, the cluttered room, cracked ceiling, wounds on Dean's face, the small splotch of blood through Venus' sweater on her right arm, and a heavily breathing Bobby. "Did I miss anything?"

Dean lunged forward and delivered a solid punch to Sam's jaw, tumbling backwards into Venus' hold.

"Alright Tyson, let's get you some ice," she joked, getting him to his feet.

With new wounds and a stern warning from Bobby, the three hunters were back on the road again.

After Venus finished her melodramatic reunion with Freddy that is.

"I missed you so much buddy," Venus mused, crouching to run her fingers over the front of her bike, "I swear if that bitch scratched you, I'm gonna yank her out of hell myself and–"

"Can you please wrap this up so we can go?" Dean loudly called out from where he stood with Sam behind her, "It's getting disturbing."

Venus rolled her eyes and stood to her feet, turning to look at the boys. "Jealous of a motorcycle? That's a new low for you, Dean," she walked over and mounted the bike.

Dean scoffed, stomping over to where the Impala was parked further down Bobby's driveway. "Jealous of a bike..." he angrily muttered to himself, ignoring Sam's chuckles behind him.

-ˋˏ | ˎˊ-

The hunters, now well-rested and fed, found themselves in a tattoo shop the next morning.

Or, rather, Venus and Sam dragged Dean into said tattoo shop the next morning.

"You know, I don't see why we couldn't just make do with the charms Bobby gave us," complained Dean from the chair he was lying in. The artist was nearly half done with his tattoo, not working as fast as the others because the hunter kept tensing up or moving excessively.

Venus glanced over, sliding her headphones off her ears. "Jewelry gets lost, destroyed, and stolen. Tattoos are safer," she repeated for the third time that day.

Dean's jaw clenched, the older hunter returning his eyes to the checkered ceiling of the parlor, trying to focus on something besides the burning sensation on his chest.

Sam lay on the other side of him, not exactly comfortable with the pain but not as vocal as Dean was.

Venus didn't feel too bad for them though. They both had to get the anti-possession sigil on the upper left corner of their chests. She, however, decided last minute that she'd get hers on her ribcage—far up enough for it to still be hidden by any crop tops she owned. It was a lot more painful, but worth it once she reasoned that the sigil wouldn't look very sexy poking out of the straps of a tank top or a V-neck shirt.

"I can hold your hand, if you want," she offered to Dean, fully genuine.

Dean cleared his throat, trying to maintain his composure, but gaining a glare from the artist at the sudden movement. "I'm fine."

"You've been stabbed, shot, and electrocuted. But a tattoo is what gets you shaking in your boots, man?" Sam teased from beside him, ignoring the bewildered expression of the young girl working on his chest.

"Shut up," Dean grunted, silently wishing he could move his hand to flip his little brother off, "You two are in pain too, I know it."

Venus chuckled, sliding her headphones back into place. "Should've taken my spare Walkman when I offered it," she hummed, closing her eyes in time to miss Dean's face twisting into a wince. 

The tattoo hurt, no doubt about it, but her music helped, just like it did the first two times she did this. It gave her something else to focus on rather than the tiny needles piercing her skin two millimeters deep a few thousand times per minute. If it got quiet enough, she could've probably fallen asleep.

Sam didn't need a distraction because his mind was already occupied by the guilt of his actions over the past two weeks. Despite Venus and Dean's constant reminders that none of what happened was his fault and that they could save him from whatever his destiny was, Sam didn't feel any more relieved than he did two months ago.

Dean soon resorted to humming Metallica to himself, finding that it actually helped. For a few minutes at least.

And then it was back to panicking.

"I should've never let you two talk me into this shit."

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A/N: Now it's technically like 4 am...but it's 'last night' somewhere and therefore this chapter is NAWT late :)

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