Part of the Family Business (A Supernatural Fanfic)

Chapter Nine

In the club, the lights are all red, and I assume it's because there are vampires. A few nearby show off their teeth to me, trying to impress me, but I keep walking. Dean slides his hand into mine, and I hope Sam doesn't see. I don't think I'm ready for him to know yet...

Sam leads us to the bar, and we sit.

"A shot of whiskey," Dean says, then he glances to Sam and me, "a beer, and uh," he waits for Sam to continue.

"A beer as well," Sam says, nodding to the bartender. His pupils are like slits, so he must be a kitsune. Quickly, he passes Sam and I ice cold beers and pours the shot of whiskey for Dean. I watch as Dean knocks it back in one try, squeezing his eyes shut. Taking a sip of my beer, I glance over to Sam, having heard a different voice.

There's a girl beside him, stroking his arm. He looks a little uncomfortable, but I see the girl's trying to coax him onto the dance floor.

"Ah, go on," Dean says, waving his hand towards the dance floor. "A little dancing doesn't hurt, right?" He grins between Sam and me. I can't help but to grin back.

Sam smirks and takes the girl's hand as she leads him off into the crazy mob on the dance floor. They disappear. I turn my head back to Dean, who's smiling at me.

"You wanna dance?" he says, leaning in close to me. Smirking, I nod.

"Show me what you got," I say happily, hopping from the bar stool. My hand in his, we walk over to the floor. Eventually, we find a spot that's not too crowded with people, and we dance. The DJ plays a remix of Summertime Sadness, and I put my back to Dean's chest. He puts his hands on my hips, and we dance wildly together.

After a while, I see Sam's head moving through the people beside us. I nudge Dean and direct his attention to Sam, who finally makes it to us. He stumbles, having been pushed, and falls into me. Dean holds my arm firmly, catching me. I stand up straight and see Sam mouth his apologies. It's really hard to hear anything with the loud music, so I frown when Sam starts talking.

I shrug and shake my head; he rolls his eyes. Hitting his arm playfully, he starts to shout over the music.

"I think I found something," he yells, but it sounds like normal talking to me. Sam jerks his head in the direction behind him, and the three of us manage to push our way to the back of the club. There's a door that's open slightly with the flyer that we saw at the motel on it. He leads the way through the door and into an alleyway.

"I think I know how this ends," Dean says, glancing around.

"There are few ways this could end," I say, knitting my brows together as they go through my mind. Dean smirks at me.

"Anyway," Sam says, turning around and walking through a door in the next building. Each of us walk in, and I tilt my head.

"It's a store," I say quietly. People are here, browsing through shelves of black jars.

"Hey," Dean says, pointing to a sign and grinning, "hearts are 50% off!"

There's a small pause. "Wait," he says, staring around the store. Each shelf is labeled with things like hearts, brains, blood, and there's a section in the back that's just labeled "other".

Slowly, I walk over to a nearby shelf labeled "brains". I pick up the jar and inspect it. There's paper around it telling who it's from - Sebastian Taylor - and a bunch of extra information about them. Apparently he is - or was - 36 and a professor at Harvard, divorced with 2 kids. Shrugging, I weave my way through shelves to the counter, Dean and Sam following me with confused faces.

"Hi," the person at the desk says. She smiles at me, taking the jar and inspecting it. "Brains are $60. Are you interested in entering a sweepstakes to win a $500 gift card?" I raise my eyebrows; that's a pretty good deal.

But I sigh and shake my head, "No, thanks. Not now." I give her an apologetic smile, and she nods. Then I turn to Dean. "Money," I whisper. He takes his wallet out and passes me a credit card.

"We don't accept credit cards," she says. I pass it back to Dean, who mutters under his breath. Then he pulls out some cash and hands it to me. The cashier smiles, taking the money and putting it into the register. "Would you like a bag?"

"Yes, please," I say politely. I take the bagged jar from her and go back to the door, leaving.

It takes a while for the boys to say anything. We're about halfway to the motel before Sam speaks up.

"Why did you buy a brain?"

I shrug to him, holding it protectively in my hands. "I thought that maybe it was a scam, or a joke shop or something. So, I bought a brain to test my theory."

Dean chuckles. But Sam says, "You're crazy."

"And I love it," Dean adds, glancing to me in the backseat.