Definitely A Hunter {2}

TWENTY-EIGHT

Dakota's face heats up as Jack is forced to take of his shirt, laying down so the tattoo artist can do his job. She clears her throat, and looks away from the Nephilim, ignoring her uncle's knowing smirk.

Dean glances at his daughter before his face drops, he looks at her red face.

"You feel okay? Are you sick?" Dean questions, his face slightly panicked, he places his hand on Dakota's forehead--checking her temperature. "Your face is red, you don't feel sick, do you?" He repeats. 

"I'm, uh, I'm okay, dad." Dakota coughs awkwardly, pushing Dean's hand away from her face. "It's...just hot in here." 

Sam snorts before turning to the tattoo artist. 

"All right, so, uh...I'm thinking something like this, right about here." Sam tells the artist, handing him a piece of paper with a pentagram on it, he taps Jack's chest where he wants to tattoo--the same place him and Dean got theirs. "Uh, you know what? Exactly like that." 

The tattoo artist narrows his eyes at Jack's uncomfortable expression. "And you're cool with this?" He asks the boy. 

Jack's eyes dart towards Dakota, his brow furrowed in confusion at the artists question. "Yeah." 

"Turn the damn thing on and start buzzin'." Dean hisses in annoyance, Dakota elbows his side roughly. 

Sam clears his throat awkwardly. "W-we're brothers. It's kind of like a family crest." Sam explains, showing the artist his own tattoo. 

The tattoo artist shakes his head, analyzing the picture and sitting next to Jack. Sam walks back over to Jack and Dakota, giving the blushing girl a smirk as she awkwardly glances between Jack and the floor. 

"So you heard Donatello." Sam speaks up, dropping his amusement. "No evil vibes from Jack."

"Proves nothing." Dean tells him. "Except you two are way too attached to this kid. You both need to see this for what it is, okay? I mean, what do you need, a sign?" Dean asks rhetorically. "I understand Sam being attached to the kid, his compassion or whatever, but you, Dakota? It's shocking." 

"Dad, I have no friends. I've never really talked to kids my age, not often anyway. I like having another kid around, it's...refreshing." Dakota defends herself, crossing her arms over her chest. 

"Dean, whatever his powers are or will be...if we train him properly, they could be used for good." Sam continues as the artist starts tattooing Jack. 

Dakota briefly wonders why Dean hasn't taken her to get her tattoo, it wasn't safe for her to not be marked with that sigil. 

Jack winces in pain and the machine short circuits, it sends the artist flying backwards into the wall. 

"Holy sh--" 

"Not the time!" Dean cuts Dakota off, scolding her for her language. "Well, there's your sign." He spits at Sam before stalking toward Jack as Sam goes to help the artist up. 

"Jack, did you do that?" Dakota asks gently, ignoring his shirtless-ness and placing a hand on his shoulder. 

"I'm not sure." He replies in confusion, his brow furrowed. "It hurt." 

Dean rolls his eyes, snatching his daughter's hand away from the Nephilim's shoulder. "Okay, see, sometimes, things hurt, so you just man up and deal with it." He snaps. 

"What my dad is trying to say," Dakota adds, glaring at Dean. "Is that when things hurt, sometimes there's nothing you can do to stop it, you can't use your powers on people, Jack. No matter how much pain they cause you." Dakota says softly, trying to put Dean's words in a nicer way.