Part of the Family Business (A Supernatural Fanfic)

Chapter Four

Dean comes back to Sam and I laughing together on the bed.

"Dude," Dean shouts at Sam, slamming his fake badge on the kitchen table. "What did I tell you?"

"Hey," Sam puts his hands up in surrender, "I won rock, paper, scissors, so your argument is invalid."

"What? No it's not," he says, staring around with a confused look on his face. "I told you I-" he stops himself, glancing to me. "Whatever," he walks over to his bed, undoing his tie.

"What did the coroner say?" Sam asks, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. I do the same, and we both sit facing Dean's bed.

"There was some saliva on her wound," Dean says, tossing his tie on his pillow. Then he pulls off his coat, continuing, "And guess whose DNA was on it?" He smiles, looking over at me. "Trick's."

I roll my eyes as he folds the jacket in half and tosses it across the end of his bed. "He didn't say that," I snap back at him.

"Oh, but wait," Dean says, pulling something from his back pocket. "I've got the proof, princess." He tosses the folded up paper onto my lap, "Boom." He sits on his bed wearing a triumphant smile.

Slowly, I unfold the paper. It looks very complicated, but the point gets across to me nonetheless: the saliva tested belonged to Trick Labelle. I put the papers on the night stand and sigh.

"But how did he become a vampire?" Knitting my eyebrows together, I look over at Dean.

"There's this thing," Sam starts, and I look over at him. "It's a process that turns the victim into a vampire. The effects can only be reversed with the blood of the person who turned them; but it only works if they haven't fed on human blood."

I grimace, suddenly realizing he's telling the truth. Then I sigh and put my head in my hands. "I need to take a walk," I say, abruptly standing and walking out.

"Mind grabbing some food while you're out?" Dean calls across the room as I put my hand on the doorknob.

"Dean," Sam says disapprovingly. Then he stands and looks over to me, grabbing his coat. "Don't worry about it; I'll go get some food."

"Don't forget the pie," Dean calls, turning on the TV. I walk out quickly.

Sam gets in the car, and I stand there waiting for him to pull off to get the food. Once he's out of sight, I start walking.

For a while, I'm walking down a straight road. Nothing really goes through my mind, which is good; it's kind of the point of me going for a walk. Every now and again I take a right or a left, not knowing where I'm going. I feel like I've walked in a circle after about 5 minutes and stare up at the street sign; I have been walking in a circle, and probably for longer than I thought.

I kick a rock and shake my head, laughing. With my hands in the pockets of my leather jacket, I look down the road and see a black Impala driving up. Sam stops right beside me.

"It's getting dark, Chrys. Come on, get in the car," he says, pushing the passenger's door open from the driver's seat. I get in and slam the door shut as Sam drives off.

We sit in silence for a while. "So," Sam starts, "did you get along with your dad?"

"Yeah," I say, a small smile playing on my lips as I think back to him. "He taught me most of what I know about hunting... what about you? Did you get along with yours?"

He nods, stopping at a stop sign. "He was pretty great. When I was younger, I didn't really see him that much." I nod, knowing what that's like. Sam takes a right from the stop sign.

"Being a hunter and a dad isn't really the best mix," I say. He laughs and shakes his head.

The rest of the ride to the motel is silent. It doesn't take long to get back, and I help Sam with the bags of food. When we get in, Sam kicks the door shut behind him and puts the bags of food on the kitchen table; I put the ones I'm holding on the counter by the sink. The shower's running, so I assume that's where Dean is.

Sam goes over and knocks on the door. "We're back," he yells through the door.

"Okay," Dean yells, turning off the water. I get out all of the food and set them out around the table. Sam puts the drinks down, and I have to rearrange them, because he got them mixed up.

We sit down as Dean walks out of the bathroom, his hair still slightly damp.

"Finally some food," he says, taking a seat at his spot. All three of us start to eat; I didn't realize how hungry I was. Every now and then someone will start up a small conversation, but most of the time, nobody talks.

After we're done eating, I help clean up. Sam says he's going to change his clothes, and I realize I don't have any.

"I didn't bring any clothes to sleep in," I say, tossing the last of the trash into the trash can.

"It's fine," Sam says, getting his small pile of clothes together to change into. "We'll get you some tomorrow. And if you want, you can sleep in something of mine."

"No," Dean says immediately, glaring at Sam. "You don't have to sleep in anything," he says, turning and smirking at me. His eyes looks me up and down, and I frown.

"Well, I want to, so..." I glance over to Sam, and he tosses me some clothes. Then he starts getting undressed, and I go into the bathroom to change.

Once I've put on Sam's slightly baggy v-neck and tightened the sweatpants, I stuff my original clothes into a plastic bag, excluding my leather jacket. I exit the bathroom and put the plastic bag in my duffel; I toss my leather jacket over the back of a chair.

"I'll sleep on the couch," Dean suggests, taking one of Sam's pillows.

"Hey," Sam shouts, snatching at the pillow. Dean holds it up and away from Sam as he walks to the couch.

"Too slow!" Then he lays down on the couch, tucking the pillow under his head and his jacket over his torso. I smile and walk over to Dean's bed. Moving the pillows aside, I pull the covers down and get into bed.

Sam clicks off the lamp, and I fall into a deep sleep.