A/N: Though it probably doesn't seem it, I truly don't like doing A/N. But anyway, I just wanted to let you friends know that my plan is to start updating this regularly on every Wednesday. If my time frees up, I might update twice a week, but that won't be until further in the future. I love you guys so much for all your support ♥♥
Rather than allowing yourself to dwell on your frustration and anger, you travelled out of the motel in the clothes you were wearing earlier in the day. Dean's fake credit card sat in the back pocket of your jeans, waiting for you to swipe it and take someone else's money.
The town was small and quaint, meaning there weren't many options for shopping. Not that it mattered much since shopping wasn't exactly your favorite pastime. Very rarely did you go shopping for clothes, or anything at all for that matter. Spending money on things that would likely be ruined on a hunt seemed pointless. Your money was better spent on food or even beer.
You walked into one of the small shops that seemed to have less attraction. In small towns, people always seemed to want to be friendly and talk. You were hardly in the mood for conversation with a random stranger. Talking with the two guys who decided to take you in was work enough.
The lighting in the store was dim and you could see the dust fluttering in the rays of sun that leaked through the half drawn blinds. The place wasn't exactly dirty, but it wasn't exactly clean. It seemed okay for second-hand clothing.
You sifted through the racks of clothes. Some of the items were surprisingly nice. It didn't take too long for your arms to become filled with shirts and pants that needed to be tried on. As you moseyed through the dim shop to get to the sales desk, one of the shirt's hanger knocked a small porcelain cat onto the floor. The ugly knick-knack shattered into a bunch of tiny little pieces all over the floor.
"Crap," you muttered, bending over to pick up the porcelain.
"Don't worry about it. I'll get a broom," a familiar voice stated behind you.
"Stephen?" you asked, standing to meet his gaze. "You own this place?"
He nodded. "That's why I'm a little scared about these attacks. They seem to be targeting small business."
Your brows furrowed in understanding. If you weren't a hunter, something like this would bother you too. It would be completely unnerving to have inexplicable attacks be happening. "I'm sorry...but I'm sure the police will figure it out."
He scoffed. "Yeah right. Our policemen are a joke. Maybe the FBI will figure it out."
Never being great with conversation, you gave a tight lipped smile and nodded your head. Hopefully the boys will figure it all out to put these poor town people at ease.
"Enough about all of the doom and gloom," Stephen said, clapping his hands together and rubbing them. "Do you need a changing room?"
"It would be nice," you answered. "And I'm really sorry about that cat thing."
"Don't worry about it." Stephen motioned for you to follow him toward the back of the store where a wooden slat door was shut. The man pulled a ring filled with keys out of pocket and keyed the doorknob. You couldn't help but wonder what he needed so many keys for. "Whatever you don't want, just put it on that rack over there."
He motioned to a rack that was beginning to rust away and you nodded in acknowledgement. As he left, a black and white TV hanging from the ceiling caught your attention. It was surprising that there was a security system here. You couldn't imagine anyone wanting to steal much from the store.
Just before turning into the dressing room, something odd happened on the TV. When Stephen walked past the camera, the image on the screen showed his eyes to be bright white. The first thought that ran through your mind was that it was a trick of lighting, but then you started thinking more logically. Since when was it ever just a trick of the lighting?
You quickly locked the dressing room doors and called Sam.
"Y/N," he answered in question.
Rather than beating around the bush, you started with, "Do Starships have glowing eyes through the camera?"
"Where are you?" he asked without answering.
"I'm in a little second-hand shop, but I didn't exactly check what it was called," you admitted sheepishly.
Sam sighed. "We'll figure something out. Just hang tight."
Rather than letting the thought of a deadly monster scare you, you carried on as normal and tried on the clothes you had. The smell that clung to secondhand clothes always made you crinkle your nose. Even the nice clothes seemed to smell exactly like every other secondhand piece.
After a small bit of time, you had the clothes organized on specific hooks: the definitely not, the maybe, and the certainly. It was instinct to go back through the maybe pile and check the price tag. Very rarely was the money you spent your own, but that didn't mean you wanted to rob someone else of a large sum of money.
One dress sat in the back of the maybe clothes. It wasn't exactly necessary, but you loved it. The dress was short, tight, and a deep maroon color that had a V-shaped hole by the cleavage. The only thing that didn't make it a regular V-neck was the gold metal bar that held the seams together near the neck. You knew you didn't need it, but maybe there would be a hunt that required you to dress up a bit. Or maybe you would want to go for a fancier night at the bar.
Despite being on the pricier side, your mind was made up. You placed it with the clothes you were buying and gathered the separate piles of clothes. With a deep breath to calm yourself, you slowly creaked the door open and stepped out, placing the clothes you didn't want on the old clothing rack and made your way to the front.
"Stephen," you called out before placing the pile of clothes on the glass checkout counter. When he didn't come right away, you decided to roam around in wait. Waiting in the shop was beyond stupid, and you knew it. But you didn't want to leave and make things suspicious. If the Starships were as highly evolved as the boys made it sound, Stephen would probably pick up on the odd behavior.
"I'm over reasoning with myself," you mumbled.
"All set?"
The sound of Stephen's voice made you jump, causing your arm to hit the antique bird cage beside you to the ground. "Are you kidding me?" you yelled. "You're going to have to stop sneaking up on me like that."
The Jefferson Starship chuckled at your clumsy nature. It was something you hardly found amusing. Not only did you have a knack for knocking things over on a normal day, but the skill was tenfold with the monster casually standing behind the counter.
"If you wanna pick that up, I can ring you out."
"Uh, right." Your head shook in an attempt to clear it. Standing so near a monster whose capabilities you were unsure of was nerve-racking. "Sorry I keep dropping your stuff."
"It's no big deal."
You walked over to the counter where Stephen was finishing ringing up the price of everything. There was a necklace inside of the counter among the other jewelry. It wasn't anything fancy. In fact, it was a little underwhelming next to all of the shining silver and gold chains, but you wanted it.
"How much for that necklace with the amulet thing on it?"
"This piece of junk?" he asked reaching underneath and pulled out the exact thing you wanted.
"Yeah," you said with an airy laugh, slightly offended that he called the necklace you wanted junk.
"Honestly, you can just have it. It's been in this case for ages and I can't seem to get rid of it."
You furrowed your brows. "Really? Where did it come from, anyway?"
"Someone brought it in years ago. They said it was passed around their family. If I remember right, the original owner found it in some motel trash."
"At least it has...an interesting story?" You were grasping at straws to get him to talk more. Truth be told, you were only trying to stall until Sam and Dean found you. When Stephen finished ringing you up, there was no telling what he would do. At least this way he was being civil.
Stephen told you the total cost and your heart was in your throat. He bagged all of your items and handed them to you after he charged Dean's card. With shaky hands, you grasped the bags, thanked him, and started towards the door. Getting out of there without any problems seemed almost too good to be true, but as you reached the door and pushed it open, you realized it was true. For once, your instinct that something bad was about to happen was wrong.
It was an amazing feeling, truthfully. You walked away as fast as your legs would carry you and dialed Dean's number.
"Y/N," his voice betrayed his worry. "Where are you?"
You turned around and glanced at the faded painted words above the store you were in. "I'm a few stores down from the Second Hand Heaven store. Kind of a creative name," you mused.
"So you're fine?" he asked.
"Never better."
"Well stay put," he ordered gruffly. "We'll be there in less than five minutes."
Dean was true to his word and pulled the Impala up to the sidewalk and you quickly hopped inside the back seat, thankful to be away from the mysterious monster-slash-owner.
"He didn't do anything to hurt you?" Dean immediately questioned, turning in his seat to look you over.
"No, it was actually a little weird. Stephen was really civil and really kind."
"Damn it." Dean turned back around and sped towards your motel. "The old starships weren't much of conservationists. They've evolved."
"Great," Sam mumbled.