I really hate people. I mean its one thing to judge someone but its a completely different thing when you make it obvious that that is what's being done. Sam walked next to me as we passed the couple. They couldn't have been any younger then their late fifties. The woman was holding onto her husbands arm with her left hand and her right one had moved to grip the cross that sat above her chest. Her eyes were trained onto the tattoo that took up the entire left side of my chest. If only she really knew what it was for, but I'm sure, just like every other proud christian, she probably thought I worshiped the devil in my free time. When she finally looked away from my chest I made eye contact with her and she was quick to start leading her insignificant other away from me.
"You look like your about to kill someone." Sam joked bumping his shoulder into me though with the height difference it was more like him almost hitting my head.
"I just hate how people assume." I shook my head. "I mean I don't hunt anymore, but when I did this tattoo helped me protect people like them. The people that get to sleep tucked into their self-righteous beds at night, not having to worry about keeping one eye open, thinking about how much better they are then anyone who doesn't believe what they do. And while they're doing that there are hunters out killing and being killed by the very things that their 'God' created." By the end of my rant, we had stopped walking down the sidewalk next to one of the playgrounds near the university and my voice was much louder then I had intended it to be. Luckily it's the middle of the week so all the kids were at school and their parents at work. Sam had just finished class for the day and he wanted to go on a jog. But considering the child inside of me and how Spencer thought I should take it easy we decided on just going for a walk.
"I remember when you first got that tattoo. Dad was really pissed until you explained what it meant and what it did."
"I don't really think he was pissed that I got it, but how I got it and when." I laughed. We had been Chicago. Dad was working a Skinwalker case and all of us kids were supposed to stay inside the motel room because Dad didn't trust one of the hunters we was working with at the time. I ended up sneaking out while Dean was in the shower, the only time that he ever really let me out of his sight, it was my fifteenth birthday and I wanted a tattoo. I found a shady tattoo parlor and with my fake ID convinced them I was a young looking 18 year old, what can I say, I bloomed early, then four hours later I came out with this tattoo.
"Dean almost killed you."
"Yeah because I managed to sneak out on his watch." I rolled my eyes. Dean and have always had a rocky relationship. When Dad had first started take the both of us hunting, Dean before me, Dad had made it Dean's first priority to keep me safe and he took that very seriously. I didn't like the idea of my older brother protecting me and he didn't like that I never listened to him. He didn't like that I didn't listen to Dad either but that's another story, anyway both of us were told to take care of Sam so that was something we shared. I also think that's another thing that really pissed him off when I left. It had been his 'job' to take care of me, to make sure that I get into to much trouble and I completely jumped ship. We had some good times but those time normally ended up with the two of us fighting.
"After you left he was a lot more of a hard-ass about that."
"Dean or Dad?"
"Both of them." I nodded. I can see that happening. "What does your boyfriend think about the tattoo? I mean since you didn't tell him about the supernatural, you couldn't tell him the actual meaning."
"Actually I did tell him the meaning behind it." We started walking again once I realized we were still just standing there. "Mostly because if he knew anything about Demonology he would have more then likely seen it before. So I told him thinking that he already knew, and if he didn't then I didn't want him to think I was a satin worshiping freak." I laughed at my fifthteen year old self's thoughts.
"So what did he say when you basically told him that you were afraid of being possessed by demons?"
"He took it in a more figurative sense and I just didn't correct him. He thought I meant inner demons or something like that."
"That makes sense I guess." He sat down on one of the benches and slouched down and looked over the nearly empty playground. I pulled my phone from my pocket and glanced down at it. Spencer shot me a text when his plane landed the night before and I hadn't heard anything from him since. I was really worried about him over doing it but there wasn't really anything I could do about it but stop sleeping, he would argue that I could go to therapy but I think that would only get me in trouble. "Hear anything?"
"Nope." I sighed. "He's busy though so I'm not that surprised." I put the phone back into my pocket and sat down next to him.
"He doesn't call you when he's out of town?"
"He calls me once a day with a few texts in between. I think he mostly does it because of what happened with Rodney. He blamed himself for not noticing that I was missing before he got home. So now he gets panicky when ever I don't answer the phone." I shrugged. "Not to mention he's worried about my stress levels. Apparently I have a tendency to get worked up about things for no reason. He wants me to go to therapy." Sam laughed.
"Therapy?" I nodded.
"Yeah, I already told him that's not going to happen. You go there to work on 'yourself' and the second I start spouting about how our mom was killed by a monster so dad went crazy looking for in and on the way we've killed tons of other monsters, I'm gonna get locked up in a mental hospital."
"I can see why that would not be an option." A few children started running towards the play thing with some parents following behind. Sam pulled out his phone and checked the time. "School must have gotten out early." He put it back into his pocket and crossed his arms.
"It's weird to think that I'll be sitting on a bench like this in a few years watching my own kid play." I laughed at the thought. I'm not entirely sure why I thought it was funny but every time I think of doing anything that a normal parent would do I start laughing. Like taking them on their first day of school, or sport games, or if their more like Spencer, chess matches or other academic events. Dad never came to any of that stuff for us so I just eventually stopped trying.
"I think you would be a good parent." Sam said.
"What makes you think that? This is only the second day that we've been 'catching up'. You really think that you've got a firm handle on my possible parenting skills?" I gave him a sideways glance.
"Well if you go by Dad's parenting you know everything not to do. So as long as you stick to that rule then I'm sure you'll be fine. All of us made it out okay enough so I think you'll do fine." HE shrugged.
"Dad wasn't that bad. At least he loves us. There are kids out there who had a pretty awful childhood experience. Dad did most of what he did to protect us."
"He raised us like worriers." His tone was becoming harder and I knew that I was walking on thin ice.
"I'm not saying that how he treated us was by any means right or okay." I held up my hands as if to show I was unarmed and took a deep breath. "But he did teach us that life isn't fair, that everything is not what it seems and that if you really want something then you either need to take it or do it no matter what anyone says. Dad may have not been around much, and he may have been a huge asshole and did things that would have gotten us removed from his care if CPS ever found out but at the end of the day he made sure we were still breathing." He still looked pretty pissed but more reasonable.
"When I told him that I was going to go to school no matter what he said...he told me that if I was going to walk out that door then I shouldn't come back." He said after a few moments of silence.
"Sounds like something he would say." I made sure to keep my voice even, not wanting to make the conversation go any farther down the rabbit hole then it already was.
"The last year or two with them has been pretty brutal." I didn't say anything because I knew he wasn't finished. "I was trying to focus and get things ready to go here but Dad kept pushing for me to participate in more and more hunts. It was like he could see me leaving and he was trying to prevent it." A dry humorless laugh came from his lips.
"In his defense-"
"Why are you defending him?" He exclaimed.
"Because I want you to think about it from his point of view. Not to mention he's not here to defend himself." I said softly but with a hardness to it.
"Most parents would have been proud when they heard that their kid made a full ride to Stanford."
"Dad isn't most parents. He never cared about school and it was up to us to keep ourselves on track. I'm sorry that Dad's a dick but that's who he is. I'm sorry he made you choose between family and school but...when he came to mine and Spencer's apartment this last time...I don't know he just wasn't himself, or at least not the Dad I remember." I huffed and tired to think of a better way to explain it. "I just don't know, okay. I guess I just feel guilty about running away without any kind of explanation as to where I was going, or hell, I didn't do anything to tell any of you that I was okay and not dead. So I can understand why he might not wanted to have let you go off on your own." I ran my fingers through my hair in a frustrated manner.
"I didn't really think about it like that."
"I know, When I turned 18 Spencer had tried to convince me to call you guys and let you know I was alright but I was still really pissed at Dad for how he raised us. I kept thinking that he would try and end my relationship with Spencer and make me go back on the road. Now when I think about it I understand how childish I was being."
"He still didn't handle in the right way." He seemed to ignore the childish statement but I didn't press it.
"You're right, he could have handled it more like an adult but like I said earlier, he's a dick. There's nothing either one of us can do about it." I shrugged. "You know any good ice-cream shops around here?" I decided to change the subject.
"I haven't really tried any places but I know there's one down the street. I don't really know how you can mess up ice-cream."
"I do!" I shuddered at the memory. "Okay so this one time Dean and I skipped school and decided to go and get ice-cream right?" We stood up and he started leading us in the direction of the shop. "Well it looked great in the little bin things so we bought some and I swear to you it tasted like rotten something, I can't even..." I shook my head in disgust and Sam laughed.
"What did the two of you do after that?"
"We went and got pie to get the taste out of our mouths."