AN: So...Welcome to the Rose Winchester Chronicles Part Three! Thanks, Lynn for being the best beta ever.
Disclaimer: I own nothing except Rose and her pancakes.
For Dean's last week, the trio rented a cabin in the Ozark Mountains of Missouri. It was the nicest place they'd ever stayed: three bedrooms, a kitchen, deck and sitting room. The only rooms they really used, however, were the sitting room and the kitchen.
They used the sitting room because of the 24 inch television in the center. On top of renting the cabin, they had rented or bought every low budget, high budget, classic or otherwise monster and horror movie they could find.
They laughed themselves to tears and then pretended the tears were only from their laughter at the antics of the hunters, hunted, and monsters alike. Whenever one of them slept, it was on the couch or in the recliner because he or she couldn't force their eyelids to stay open. The sleeper was given the lullabye of the screams from the TV and the laughter of the audience.
They used the kitchen because they had bought as much food as the trunk of the Impala could hold next to the weapons. Apparently, Rose's all girl boarding school had stressed the home economics classes and Rose had gotten pretty good at the cooking part.
After she got back into the swing of things (at the sacrifice of a few pans) the Winchesters gorged themselves on home-cooked food. Even Sam gave up on his green, healthy, rabbit-food fare and ate chocolate cake for lunch. Dean had pie with every meal, including breakfast. Rose's specialty just so happened to be apple, Dean's favorite, but she swore, with a wink to Sam, that it was purely coincidental.
Still, no matter how much they ignored what was really going on, time still slipped away from the Winchesters. At 11:30 pm of Dean's last day they could no longer pretend that nothing was going to happen.
Dean tried to smile at his siblings while the second hand on the clock ticked as loudly as a thunderstorm.
Rose was the first to hear the growling and baying of the hellhounds and made a move to salt the door.
"Stop," Dean said quietly. "There's nothing we can do. No one's ever escaped a hellhound." He laughed weakly. "Look at Robert Johnson..."
"But..." Rose started to object.
"No," Dean insisted. "I can't win. I'm not going to just run. I made this deal, it was worth it, and I'm gonna hold up my end."
Sam and Rose nodded. Rose wrapped her arms around Dean's chest, her head on his shoulder, inhaling the familiar scents of leather, gun oil, and cheap soap. Dean rubbed her back soothingly, like he used to when she was little and couldn't sleep.
"Sammy," Dean said, trying to smile so his brother wouldn't be so scared. "Take care of my wheels." The crack in his voice gave away the lie in the smile.
Sam nodded, breath hitching over tears. "I will."
"And look after R..." He stopped and pushed his sister away gently. "Rosie, I don't know what to say to you. Eat your veggies."
Her laugh turned into a sob and he pulled her back into another hug, burying his face in her soft hair for a moment. Then he looked at Sam, who nodded and pulled their sister to him.
"Look after each other," Dean said quietly.
"You know we will," Rose promised, leaning against Sam.
"Remember what Dad taught you. And remember what I-" his voice broke and he had to swallow hard. "Remember what I taught you." His voice was more pleading that commanding, begging them to take care and not get hurt.
"We will," Sam vowed, his arms tightening slightly around Rose's shoulders.
Dean nodded and gave them a bright smile with watery eyes. Rose and Sam both shuddered as the clock struck midnight, but Dean just clenched his fist and faced the door.
"All right, you sons-of-bitches! " He walked forward a few feet and flung the door open. "Come and get me!"
Rose and Sam couldn't see the hellhounds themselves. But they could see Dean being pinned to the floor, the teethmarks being left on his skin. Rose cried out and started toward him, but was held in place by Sam's arms.
He kept her face turned away from the horror, protecting her in what little way he could from the carnage as the hounds continued to use their brother as a chew toy.
But he couldn't protect her from the screams-Dean's screams as the fangs tore strips out of his flesh and the claws tore open his belly, guts spilling out into his hands.
It was over in 10 minutes. It was another 10 before Sam could let go of Rose, before they could make their way over to Dean's body.
Sam sank and sat down with his legs crossed. "Dean, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry." He picked Dean up like a baby and held him against his chest, rocking back and forth repeating "I'm sorry," in an endless refrain. He was too overwhelmed with shock to even cry.
Rose could cry though and she did. Tears streaming down her face, heart breaking, she found herself in the odd position of comforter. She knelt and held Dean's hands in one of her own and slid the other hand behind Sam's head. Pulling their foreheads together, she gently stopped his rocking. "Sammy. It's all gonna be ok. I promise. It's all gonna be ok."
She kept up her own refrain until the light of awareness came back into Sam's eyes. "Are you ok?"
"No."
She laughed weakly and a few more tears leaked out. "Me neither." She looked down at Dean's body and a few more tears escaped. She gently closed Dean's eyes then pushed her own hair back.
Sam stared at the specs of blood on her cheek. "We need to bury him, Sammy."
"It's all my fault," Sam mumbled, holding Dean a little closer.
"No, it's not," Rose said firmly. "Sammy, don't say that. Hey, look at me..." Sam met her eyes. "It's gonna be ok."
"No. It won't be," he protested. "We need him Rosie. We need to all be together. It will never be ok again."
"Yes, it just need to figure out how to get him out." Rose already had a plan, the only plan, but she knew that she needed to change Sam's train of thought before he derailed completely and broke apart out of guilt and grief.
They kept vigil with Dean's body all through the long night. Their muscles cramped and his blood dried tacky and cold on their hands and clothes.
When dawn broke through the windows of the cabin, it made it a little easier to get up.
They had work to do.
