Hello lovelies!
So I started the story a couple of years ago and I just now got back to it. It's going to follow the show episode by episode, but I'm planning on changing up a few things as I go so you guys don't get bored. The character Rose is one of my own creation. Let me know what you think!
Warning: This story is going to eventually deal with the aftermath of rape, so if that is a trigger for you then it might not be a good idea to read this story. I will, of course, post warnings on any chapters that I think might trigger someone, so you are welcome to just skip those chapters if you like. I promise I won't post anything graphic.
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or any of its characters. However, I do own Rose Singer.
March 15th, 1995
12 Years Old
I woke up with a start, and looked around my room. Everything was in place. Moonlight streamed through the gauzy curtains that my mom had put up when I was eight and asking for a princess themed room. Mom certainly delivered on that front. My room looked like something out of a fairytale: complete with pale pink walls and white crown molding. The furniture was ornate white wrought iron with gold accents and the entire room was stuffed with every pink and ridiculous looking piece of frill you could imagine. On one wall, Dad had hired a painter to paint a mural of Rapunzel in her tower looking over a valley. Her long golden hair flowed out of the window and blew in the imaginary breeze, and Rapunzel gazed longingly at the setting sun. I had almost completely managed to cover this mural up with posters. They weren't childish like the rest of the room. I would be 12 years old when the sun rose, and this room was for babies.
I shivered under the thick blankets on my bed and frowned. Why was it so cold? It was then that I noticed the window. I frowned. I could've sworn I'd shut it before I went to bed. I mean, it was early March in Chattanooga; now wasn't the time of year when people left their windows open. It was still too cold out most days. Right now it was snowing outside, which I thought was ridiculous. We'd never had a winter last this long in Chattanooga, but my parents and I lived high up on Signal Mountain, and it was pretty cold this far up, even into May, so I guess it shouldn't have been that big of a surprise.
I got up and closed the window and turned back toward my bed. The glowing green numbers on my alarm clock told me that it was almost 2:00 in the morning. I walked back to bed. That's when I saw it. I hadn't noticed it before because of the shadows in the room, but there, in my room, was a large cloud of black smoke, and it was heading straight for me. I opened my mouth to scream just as the black smoke began to close in. The world went black.
10 years later…
I fell out of sleep with a shout, landing hard on my ass as I tumbled off the couch. It took me a moment to realize that the pounding I heard didn't actually belong to my heart. I reached for the knife I kept hidden in my boot, adrenaline still pouring through my system from the nightmare. The sky outside was too dark for it to be anywhere near a decent hour, and a quick glance at the clock hanging over my dining table confirmed that it was too early for anyone respectable to be paying me a visit. I rolled into a crouch, alert and listening for signs of an ambush. The pounding at my door continued. A distant part of me noted that Mrs. Leavitt, the older woman who lived in the apartment next door to me, was going to have words for me tomorrow about the lack of propriety in my 'gentlemen callers' as she always referred to them, not that I had many of those.
"Rose!" A familiar voice hollered, muffled through the thick oak door. "Rose let me in!" I straightened from my hunter's crouch and huffed, relaxing the grip on my knife slightly.
"Sam Winchester!" I snapped, "Do you have any idea what time it is?" The image of Sam's apologetic grimace flashed through my mind. He knew my opinion on early wake-up calls.
"Rose, I know it's late, but please just let me in," he called. I rolled my eyes as I returned the knife to its sheath and made my way toward the bedroom.
"It's not late, Sam," I tossed out over my shoulder, "It's early. Come back when the sun is actually out! I'm going back to bed." The pounding on my door halted and I listened for the sound of retreating footsteps. None. Just silence.
"Rosie," a different voice called through the door, "Let us in." I froze, my heart kicking back into a double beat as recognition sank in. I fumbled once more for my knife as I hopped one-legged toward the door. My fingers caught on the multiple locks in my haste and I heard a familiar chuckle from the other side as I willed my hands to stop shaking. The door flung open and there they were.
My mind barely registered Sam standing awkwardly in his familiar worn t-shirt and holey jeans. My focus lay on his brother leaning against the doorjamb, his bottle green eyes glinting wickedly in the glow from my apartment and looking exactly as I remembered. His father's old leather jacket? Check. Military styled haircut? Check. Annoying smirk? Double check.
I slammed the door right in his smug face and leaned my forehead on the cool wood, forcing myself to take deep breaths. This was not happening. Dean Winchester had been a distant thought in my mind for the past four years. He could not be standing outside on my doorstep right now at—I glanced at the clock once more—4:15 in the morning. I tightened my grip on the knife in my hand, taking comfort in its cold steel. I briefly imagined throwing the knife at Dean's face, but nixed the idea. Sam wouldn't forgive me for murdering his older brother, even if it was completely justified.
"Aww come on Rosie," Dean needled from the other side of the door, "Don't be like that." His voice, if anything, had gotten deeper since the last time I'd heard it, growing from a boy's voice to a man's.
"Sam, what is he doing here?" I growled, "Am I having another nightmare?"
"Damn, Rosie," Dean hissed, "No need to be so harsh."
"Go to hell!" I snapped, banging my fist against the door for emphasis.
"Look, Rose, I can explain," Sam pleaded, "Just let us in. Please?" Goddamn Sam Winchester and his fucking reasonable voice. I hated it when he used it against me.
"What is he doing here?" I growled, tightening my knuckles on the lock.
"He needs our help," Sam explained vaguely. My mind flashed to multiple times when Dean had explicitly told me that he did not need our help and wondered what could possibly have him so desperate for it now.
"Where's John?" I asked, realizing that there was one Winchester man not in this picture. The silence outside my door made my throat close up in panic.
"Sam," my voice strangled, "Where. Is. Your. Father?" More silence.
"He's missing," Dean answered gravely. I closed my eyes and waited for the stinging to recede. With a shaky sigh, I opened the door.
"Come in," I grumbled begrudgingly, stepping aside to allow the two brothers past. Sam smiled wanly down at me as he entered, but Dean merely eyed the knife in my right hand.
"Planning on stabbing something with that?" he questioned, lifting one eyebrow.
"Don't tempt me," I snarled. Dean chuckled. I watched him warily as he surveyed my apartment, green eyes cold like glass.
"Nice pad," he observed. I shrugged. I'd come into my inheritance on my 21st birthday and decided to make the most of it. My apartment was much nicer than any college student's apartment had the right to be. It was made up of tall ceilings, crown molding, and hardwood floors, decorated with anything I'd deemed interesting, including a large Persian rug and the plush blue couch that I'd been sleeping on prior to this unexpected visit. Nothing in the apartment matched: I loved every inch of it. Dean nudged one of the many stacks of books with his boot. I growled a warning to him and he winked at me unapologetically.
"Why are you here, Dean?" I demanded. He smirked, his eyes flat.
"I told you," he said, "Dad's missing."
"I heard that," I snapped, "I meant why are you here? You made it very clear you didn't want anything to do with me last time I saw you." Dean frowned as he examined the picture hanging on the wall of me, Sam, and Jess hiking in the Rockies over spring break last year. He turned away from the photo and plopped down on my couch.
"Believe me princess, if it was up to me I wouldn't be here," he sneered, propping his feet up on my coffee table. "Unfortunately, I needed my brother, and Sammy here insisted that you and him are a package deal. So here we are." He threw his hands up in a 'what can you do?' manner, frowning at Sam as he did so. I felt a glow of appreciation for Sam's loyalty. He'd stood up for me against his big brother. Again. My eyes narrowed in on Dean's muddy boots.
"Feet. Off the coffee table. Now," I glowered down at Dean as I hissed the words. My eye twitched at the thought about all of the mud Dean trekked around in on a day to day basis. Dean smiled beatifically at me.
"Make me," he challenged.
"Dean…" Before Sam could finish warning his brother, I swiftly straddled Dean, pressing my knife against his throat.
"Remove your feet from my coffee table now," I whispered, "Or I'll do it for you." Dean's eyes widened in surprise at my sudden proximity. We hadn't been this close in almost four years, and I knew he hadn't expected me to be the one to bridge the gap. A smile inched its way onto his face, too smug for my liking.
"You won't hurt me," He said confidently. I raised an eyebrow as I pressed the blade further into his throat, nicking the skin. A drop of blood trickled down his neck and Dean hissed.
"Jesus psycho," he muttered, "Calm down. I'll behave." He lowered his feet and I sat back triumphantly, glowing at my victory. Before I got a chance to gloat I found myself thrown against the couch with a huff. I felt the air explode out of me as I struggled to free myself from Dean's grip. He grinned smugly from his current position on top of me.
"Still letting your guard down, Rosie," he cooed, "We'll have to work on that." I kneed him in the groin and he rolled off of me with a moan. I stood and brushed some lint off of my jeans with a sniff. Sam hid his laughter behind a hand. I glared.
"So glad we amuse you," I snapped lightly, keeping most of the venom out of my voice. Sam smiled fondly at me. I moved closer and burrowed my face into his chest. He laid a hand on my head and smoothed my rumpled curls down affectionately.
"You okay?" he whispered, concerned. I nodded, tilting my head up so he could see my face.
"You?" I mouthed back. He shrugged, the smile fading from his face. I felt a twinge of guilt at reminding him of the situation. I could only imagine how he must be feeling right about now.
Dean finally recovered from my knee, standing with a glare in my direction.
"Bitch," he spat.
"Dick," I snapped back without hesitation, "Now explain why you're here." Dean rolled his eyes.
"I told you," he snarled impatiently, "I need Sam to come with me to find Dad."
"Dean, I told you before, I can't just drop everything and go with you on a hunting trip," Sam protested, "I have a life here and hunting is not a part of it."
"You're not hearing me Sammy," Dean growled, "Dad's missing." I felt Sam tense at the nickname and I grabbed his hand in mine, rubbing soothing circles into his palm with my thumb. I watched Sam unclench his jaw as he prepared for a rebuttal. I could see him going into what Jess termed his "sexy lawyer mode."
"Dad's always missing," Sam argued, "He goes days, sometimes weeks without making contact. He always comes back, and he's always fine." Dean shook his head.
"Never for this long," Dean said, "I can feel it, Sam. Something's wrong." I felt my heart stutter at the thought of something happening to John. He wasn't my father, but he'd always been there for me, and in a way, he was family. I couldn't bear the thought of something happening to him.
"Did you try calling Uncle Bobby?" I asked. Dean glared at me.
"Do you think I'm an idiot?" he demanded, "Of course I have! Bobby hasn't heard anything from Dad. And then I got this voice message from him the other day. Listen."
Dean whipped out his cell phone and pressed a button. John's crackling voice filled the room.
"Dean—bzzz—something is starting to happen—phsssh—I think it's serious—tsst—I need to try and figure out—zzt—what's going on. Fsssh—be very careful Dean—bzzzz—we're all in danger." The voice message faded out with a click but it left raw fear gnawing at my belly. Maybe Dean was onto something. I met Sam's gaze, my own worry reflected back in his eyes.
"So, will you help me?" Dean asked, his eyes fixed on Sam. Sam turned to me for guidance. I nodded. My stomach was already twisting nervously at the thought of teaming up with Dean to search for John, but if Dean was right, and I had a bad feeling that he was, then John needed our help. Sam turned back to Dean.
"We'll help," he agreed, "But we have to be back by Monday morning." Dean frowned. Clearly that wasn't the answer he'd hoped for.
"What's Monday morning?" he asked.
"I've got an interview," Sam explained. Dean crossed his arms, fixing his cool gaze on Sam.
"What, a job interview?" he scoffed, "Skip it." I stepped forward to smack Dean's shoulder.
"It's not a job interview," I corrected the idiot, smiling with satisfaction as he rubbed his shoulder surreptitiously. "It's a law school interview, and it's Sam's entire future on a plate." Dean raised both brows as he turned to look at Sam.
"Law school, huh?" Dean asked. Sam nodded. Dean's eyes turned the color of the forest at night as he regarded the both of us carefully.
"Alright then," he nodded, conceding, "Monday morning it is. Pack your stuff."
"I'll meet you guys at Sam's place," I said, already cataloging everything I would need for this trip in my mind. Beneath my worry for John was a deeper thrill of excitement. It had been too long since I'd been on a hunt. My fingers were itching for something to fight.
"You're not coming with us," Dean interrupted my thoughts. I stopped, staring him down as I placed my hands on my hips.
"And why not?" I demanded giving him a look that I knew from experience made both brothers extremely nervous.
"Because we don't need you," Dean explained with a shrug, "You'll just slow us down."
"Like hell," I spat, "I'm just as good a hunter as you are and you are not blocking me out of this because you decided to be a misogynistic asshole."
"Big words college girl," Dean quipped, "But he's our father, so I think it's best if Sam and I handle this one on our own." The world went red, and when the haze dimmed slightly Dean was holding his jaw and my hand hurt like a bitch.
"Listen, dickhead!" I snarled, "He may not be related to me by blood, but he is every bit as much my family as he is yours so don't you dare try to play that card on me. I'm coming whether you like it or not."
"There's no way in hell I am letting you inside my car with us," Dean said, flexing his jaw gingerly to assess the damage and looking at me with a glint of something in his eyes. "I can't believe you just punched me!"
"Please," I scoffed, "you totally deserved it." Dean's eyes narrowed.
"You're still not getting inside the Impala," his smirk was returning. He thought he had the upper hand. I smiled sweetly at him.
"That's alright, Baby," I cooed, using my best southern belle voice, "I'll just take the Harley." Dean opened his mouth, and then snapped it shut. I could tell that I had won.
"Whatever," Dean muttered, "just make sure you don't slow us down." I smiled less sweetly.
"Don't worry," I told him, locking eyes, "I won't." Then I spun on my heel and exited toward my bedroom, eager to pack. I flexed my hand as I went. Nothing broken. Good. The front door slammed and I rolled my eyes. Dean always liked to make an exit.
"Such a drama queen," I muttered. I knelt down, reaching under my bed to drag my worn canvas bag out, tossing it onto my comforter and turning to begin rummaging through my drawers. A knock on my bedroom door alerted me to the fact that Sam had stayed behind. I glanced up to see him watching me with sympathy.
"You okay?" he asked. My smile felt false even to me.
"I'm fine," I assured him. "Why wouldn't I be?" Sam shook his head as he crossed over to where I stood and collapsed on my bed.
"Well you and my brother do have a rather…violent history to say the least," he pointed out hesitantly, "and neither of you seemed particularly thrilled to see the other." I shrugged, refusing to meet his eyes.
"Your brother's a dick," I told him as I folded a pair of jeans and stuffed them hurriedly into my bag. "This isn't exactly news." Sam laughed.
"True," he granted, "But are you sure you'll be okay spending an entire weekend with him? You can always stay here and look after Jess for me." I glared at him and bumped his shoulder, knocking him over on the bed.
"I can't let you boys have all the fun," I teased, "Besides, Jess is a big girl. She can handle herself without us for one weekend." Sam looked unconvinced. I frowned slightly, noticing the flash of worry in his eyes.
"Hey," I called, trying to bring him back from his thoughts, "Is something up with you and Jess?"
"What?" Sam asked, confused, "No. No, of course not." He assured me quickly, his eyes still distant. "I had a nightmare last night and it's got me on edge. That's all."
"Oh," I said, looking down at my fingernails, which were gnawed short. I could understand nightmares.
"Do...do you want to talk about it?" I asked awkwardly. Sam swallowed nervously, considering my offer, before shaking his head no. I nodded. I could respect his privacy, but I made a note to keep a closer eye on him during our trip in case his nightmares got to be too much.
"I should go pack and explain things to Jess," Sam said, getting up off of the bed with a groan. I returned to the task at hand, my body sinking back into the familiar rhythm of packing with ease.
"Are you going to tell her the truth?" I asked, keeping my tone neutral. I was broaching a sensitive topic, Even though I disagreed with his decision to keep Jess in the dark, I had, thus far, respected his wishes, keeping silent these past few years.
"No," Sam shook his head, "Jess doesn't need to know the details. And anyway, it would take way too long to explain everything to her." I nodded, biting my lip. Pushing him would only lead to an argument, and I didn't need both Winchester brothers pissed at me for this trip.
"What will you tell her?" I asked instead. If we were both going on this hunt then I needed to be able to keep my story straight to Jess. Sam shrugged.
"I'll tell her we're all going up to the cabin to hunt down my Dad and bring him back to civilization," he explained, "and that we'll come home once we're done." I nodded, meeting Sam's eyes to let him know I understood. He smiled briefly at me before leaving. I could see the tension in his shoulders as he walked away. Sam didn't know how to deal with this sudden family reunion anymore than I did.
I finished packing a few minutes later and immediately rushed to the bathroom. I had fallen asleep in my clothes earlier that night, but I wasn't particularly keen on the idea of biking cross-country without something a little warmer than my ratty Stanford sweatshirt. I switched it out for a long-sleeved black thermal and my leather jacket. I tugged on some thick woolen socks that Jess had given me for Christmas one year when she'd gone through her knitting phase, and laced up my riding boots, tucking my knife back into its sheath as I did so. I hid another at the small of my back for good measure. I quickly wrapped a blue cashmere scarf that Uncle Bobby had sent me for my birthday last year around my neck and donned my biker gloves. Finally I pulled my thick russet curls back into a ponytail. I hated having my hair loose while driving. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror as I exited the bathroom and crinkled my nose. I turned my eyes away quickly before I could get caught in a staring match with my reflection.
I grabbed my bags as I rushed out the door. I just finished with the locks when I caught a glimpse of my neighbor peaking out from behind her door. I jumped.
"Mrs. Leavitt," I called in greeting. The older woman smiled kindly at me, but her old eyes were clouded with worry.
"Is everything alright dearie?" she asked, "I heard an awful racket, and I saw that Sam boy and some other man hanging around. Is he another friend of yours?"
"Not exactly," I muttered to myself.
"Well everything's alright though, isn't it?" Mrs. Leavitt prodded again, "It seems a strange hour to be making a trip." I watched as she turned her eyes to the bags in my hand. I smiled reassuringly.
"Everything's fine, Mrs. Leavitt," I lied, "There's just been a minor family crisis that I have to attend to. I'll be back in a couple of days." Her eyes widened.
"Oh dear," she murmured, "Well I do hope everything's alright, love. Look after yourself. The roads aren't safe this time of night." I smiled gratefully at her. Mrs. Leavitt might have been a busybody, but it felt nice to have someone looking after me. It felt almost like having a grandmother.
"Thanks Mrs. Leavitt," I said before turning toward the stairs. I took them two at a time and jogged lightly toward my bike, which was waiting patiently for me like an old friend. When I had come into my inheritance the previous year I had immediately gone to the nearest Harley-Davidson dealership and bought the nicest bike I could find. I didn't know anything about motorcycles, but I'd always wanted one as a kid, and Harley had been my birthday gift to myself. She was shiny and sleek and her black coat made it easy to fade into the night. I loaded my things into the saddlebags and quickly swung one leg over the bike. I slipped my helmet on and twisted the key in the ignition, sending the bike roaring to life. I liked the feel of the engine beneath me. Riding Harley felt more like riding a panther than a piece of metal. I roared out of the parking lot towards the apartment that Sam shared with his girlfriend and my best friend, Jess.
When I pulled into the complex's parking lot, I saw a familiar black '67 Chevy Impala. Dean was leaning against the car watching me as I pulled up beside him. He eyed my bike with admiration as I dismounted and removed my helmet.
"Is Sam upstairs?" I asked. Dean nodded. I went back to ignoring him, turning towards the stairs to Sam's apartment. I wanted to say goodbye to Jess before leaving, and she'd probably have questions for me.
The couple looked up at me as I walked in. Sam was hastily shoving clothes into a bag as Jess stood by in her favorite Smurf pajamas, a hand on her hip. Her expression brightened slightly when she saw me. I returned her smile with one of my own. Jess was the kind of person you couldn't help but smile back at, even when your night was as shitty as mine was turning out to be.
"Hey Jess," I greeted, "How's it hanging?"
"Did you know about this?" She demanded, gesturing towards Sam's half-packed bag. I nodded.
"Sure did," I answered, "I've got one of my own waiting outside. " Jess raised an eyebrow.
"You're going, too?" she asked, shifting slightly as she fiddled with a strand of golden hair. I shrugged.
"I haven't seen John in a while," I admitted nonchalantly, "And I figured someone needs to tag along and keep Sam out of trouble. Lord knows Dean won't." Sam snorted slightly at that. Jess's mouth drew into a tight line. I laughed at her expression.
"I'm guessing you've already met him," I chuckled. Jess scrunched up her nose slightly.
"He's…interesting," she said finally. Sam and I both burst out laughing at this and Sam kissed Jess sweetly on the nose.
"You can say it," I told her, "He's a dick. I know it. Sam knows it. Hell, even Dean knows it." Jess smiled apologetically at Sam who was smiling softly down at her. The way he looked at her made my own heart ache. My mind flashed to the ring that Sam had stashed somewhere in the apartment where Jess wouldn't find it. I had gone with him to pick it out. A small part of me wondered if Sam would ever have to help some guy pick out a ring for me. I doubted it. I wasn't the marrying type.
Jess left Sam to his packing and followed me out into the living room.
"Are you sure that everything's okay?" Jess whispered, glancing surreptitiously toward the bedroom, "I mean, if there's nothing wrong then couldn't you guys wait till morning?" I shook my head.
"Dean would never allow it," I joked, "He likes to start his journeys in the dead of night." Jess gave me a long look. I sighed.
"Everything's fine Jess," I lied, "John's probably just lost track of the days. My bet is that we'll find him playing poker up at the cabin with a few of his ex-marine buddies. Dean will stop worrying, John and Sam will get into a fight, and Sam and I will return home with nothing changed." Jess looked down at her toes. I'd helped her paint them a bright blue a few weeks ago, but now they were slightly chipped.
"If there's nothing wrong, then don't you think now would be a good time for me to meet him?" she asked. I frowned slightly. I didn't really know how to respond to that. Jess looked nervous.
"Jess," I sighed, "Now's not really a good time. Sam and John are probably gonna get into it the instant we get there and I'm sure that's not how Sam wants you to meet his dad. I think this trip is family-only this time."
"You're going," Jess pointed out. I shrugged.
"I am family," I explained gently, "Or at least, I used to be. The Winchesters are the only family I've got besides my uncle." Jess nodded.
"It's just that sometimes I feel like Sam trusts you more than he trusts me, you know?" Jess whispered, playing with her hair nervously. My stomach sank. This wasn't the first time that Jess had gotten insecure over my relationship with Sam, but it still hurt every time she brought it up. I hated thinking that I might be a wedge in their relationship.
"Jess, I've told you a hundred times," I reminded her, "Sam's like my brother, and I'm his goofy little sister. That's it. Nothing has ever happened between us and nothing ever will." Jess nodded, still refusing to meet my eye. I set my hand on her shoulder and she finally looked up.
"I'm only coming along because they can't make me stay," I promised her, "Believe me, they'd much rather leave me behind." Jess smiled weakly at my reassurances.
"What about Dean?" she asked. I tensed.
"What about Dean?" I asked warily. Jess wiggled her eyebrows.
"Has anything ever happened between you and him?" she nudged. I laughed a little too high.
"Of course not," I stammered, "Dean's…well he's…he's Dean." Jess smirked.
"That's very specific of you," she observed wryly. I rubbed my neck nervously.
"My relationship with Dean is…complicated," I explained, so not wanting to discuss it with Jess.
"Complicated how?" she asked.
"Well…we've never really had an easy relationship," I admitted, "In fact, I'm pretty sure he hates me, and sometimes I think I probably hate him, but…he's Dean." I bit my lip, "He's family…sort of. Anyway, we both tolerate each other for Sam's sake."
"You don't really believe that, do you?" Jess asked, her brown eyes warm and earnest. I shrugged.
"It's not like he's ever done anything to suggest differently," I muttered, blocking out the rare occasions when Dean had seemed to care.
"Rose, there's no way that man hates you," Jess declared with absolute certainty. I wrinkled my nose.
"No offense Jess…but how would you know that?" I asked gently, "You've known the guy for what? Fifteen minutes? And you've never even seen us in the room together," I pointed out. Jess smirked.
"The first thing he asked Sam when he broke into our apartment at two in the morning was about you. He wanted to know where you were. He wouldn't ask that if he didn't care." I blinked. Why would Dean ask that?
"Maybe he was afraid I was about to jump out of the shadows and stab him with a knife," I murmured absentmindedly. Jess threw her hands in the air, rolling her eyes.
"You're impossible," she huffed.
"And you have an overactive imagination," I told her. "Me and Dean? That's the craziest thing I think I've ever heard, which is really saying something." Jess opened her mouth to argue but just then Sam came out with his fully packed bag slung over his shoulder.
"Ready?" he asked. I shrugged.
"As I'll ever be," I answered back. Sam kissed Jess on the mouth, murmuring that he would see her when we got back. Jess smiled up at him wearing the dreamy expression she got every time they kissed. I shook my head, half-disgusted at their heart-warming display of emotion.
"Alright loverboy, let's hit the road," I called. Sam laughed at my tone and pecked Jess one more time on the cheek before turning towards me.
"Okay Rose, let's go meet up with Dean," he said swinging an arm over my shoulders playfully. I shrugged him off, hyper-aware of Jess's gaze. She tried, but I knew she still struggled with Sam and I's relationship.
"You go on ahead," Jess ordered Sam, "I want to talk with Rose alone before y'all leave." Sam raised one eyebrow in question before shrugging and abandoning me to his girlfriend. I glared after him.
"I wish I could figure out how they did that," I muttered to myself. I had been trying for years to mimic the way the Winchester boys arched their brows, but no matter how many times I practiced, I could never lift just one eyebrow. The other always followed.
"You know I see what you're doing, and you don't have to do it," Jess said bluntly. I turned to her with my most innocent expression.
"What do you mean?" I asked. Jess shook her head, smiling.
"You don't have to worry about my jealousy," she assured me, "I learned to accept your relationship with Sam a long time ago." I blinked at Jess, unwilling to give anything away.
"Did you really think I didn't notice the way you won't let Sam touch you whenever I'm around?" Jess demanded.
"I never let anyone touch me," I pointed out. Jess threw her arms around me and grinned knowingly.
"You let me touch you," she argued. I rolled my eyes, squirming out of her hug good-naturedly.
"That's different," I told her, "You're my best friend." Jess shook her head.
"I'm your best girl friend," she said, "Sam is your best friend."
"Yeah and he's your boyfriend," I reminded her.
"I remember," Jess grinned, waggling her eyebrows suggestively. I shook my head, no wanting to think about their sex life.
"Okay, I'm gonna go…" I turned to leave, but Jess pulled me back. Her sharp nails dug into my skin.
"Ouch!" I cried, glaring at her nails. Jess removed her hand sheepishly.
"Sorry," she said. I huffed.
"Can I go?" I asked her. Jess shook her head.
"I need you to do something for me, Rose," Jess said seriously.
"What is it Jess?" I asked, watching as she picked at her fingernails nervously.
"I just…I want to make sure you know that it's okay for you to let people in," Jess said. I frowned.
"I let people in," I protested, "I've got you, and Sam, and my uncle, and John whenever he's not out hunting." Jess shook her head.
"I'm not talking about me or Sam or your uncle," Jess said, "We're your family. It doesn't count."
"What do you want from me Jess?" I whined, "I'm not like you. I can't just open up to people." Jess placed her hand on my arm to calm me.
"I know," she assured me, "But honey, you need to let someone in. Sam and I, we only get parts of you, and the same goes with your uncle I'll bet. You need to let someone see all of you." I rolled my eyes.
"Not this again," I groaned, "I told you that I don't want what you and Sam have. I'm happy alone."
"Rose, if I truly believed you'd be happier alone, I promise I'd drop it," Jess sighed, "but we both know it's not true."
"Really, Jess? Why is this coming out now?" I demanded hotly.
"Because of Dean!" Jess yelled. I froze.
"What do you mean 'because of Dean?'" I asked. "I already told you that there is nothing going on between us."
"Call it a feeling," Jess said, "I don't know how to explain it, but I just feel like there's something between you two."
"Yes, hatred," I agreed wryly.
"Please be serious about this," Jess begged.
"I am serious Jess," I snapped, "There is nothing between Dean Winchester and I except for total antipathy towards the other. I don't see that changing anytime soon." Jess sighed, rubbing her temples as she took a deep breath
"Just promise me you'll keep an open mind?" Jess begged, "Don't let your stubbornness get in the way of your happiness."
"Me? Stubborn?" I joked.
"Promise me, Rose!" Jess insisted. I sighed. There was no getting out of this.
"Fine," I groaned, "I promise."
"Good." Jess nodded in satisfaction. I pouted.
"You know you're a real pain in my ass, right?" I asked. Jess shrugged.
"You love me," she declared primly. I smiled slightly at her confidence.
"Yeah, well, I never said I was sane," I pointed out. Jess opened her mouth in shock.
"Hey!" She cried, shoving me lightly. I laughed. Before I knew it, Jess had wrapped me in one of her famous hugs. No one escaped a hug with Jessica Moore without falling just a little in love with her. I hugged her back tightly.
"Be safe," Jess whispered. Not for the first time, I wondered just how much she'd guessed about what Sam was hiding from her.
"I'll do my best," I assured her gruffly. Jess pulled back and smiled up at me.
"Look after Sam," she ordered, her face stern, but her eyes glittering. I grinned.
"Always," I assured her before turning towards the door. "I'll see you in a few days!" I called over my shoulder. I heard Jess yawn her consent to this and looked back to see her waving sleepily at me. I realized that even though I was wide-awake, it was still only five in the morning. I waved back one last time before going out to join the boys.
"It's about damn time," Dean growled as I walked towards him and Sam.
"Oh, bite me," I snapped. Sam shot me a warning look that I didn't acknowledge.
"Where was John hunting?" I asked Dean instead, getting straight to business. Dean opened the Impala's trunk, lifting the fake bottom to reveal all of his hunting gear. He opened a map of California and pointed to a small town on the map circled with a red marker.
"He was checking out this two-lane blacktop just outside of Jericho." Dean explained, "About a month ago, this guy—they found his car but he'd vanished. Completely MIA."
"So maybe he was kidnapped," Sam suggested skeptically. I glanced over Dean's shoulder to see a stack of newspaper articles.
"It's happened before?" I asked Dean as I picked up the articles and began to rifle through them. They were a list of disappearances going back to the eighties. Dean nodded.
"There was another one in April," he answered, "and another in December '04, '03, '98, '92—10 of them over the past 20 years—all men, all the same 5-mile stretch of road. It started happening more and more so Dad went to go dig around." I studied the articles, searching for a connection between the victims.
"When was that?" I asked absent-mindedly.
"About three weeks go," Dean answered, "Which would've been bad enough had I not gotten Dad's message yesterday."
"Can you play it again?" Sam asked. Dean nodded, and took out the recorder once more and hit play. John's voice broke the empty silence. We all listened, searching for some kind of clue.
"You know there's EVP on that?" Sam pointed out. Dean smiled proudly.
"Not bad, Sammy," he teased, "Kind of like riding a bike isn't it?" Sam glared. Dean shrugged, returning to the matter at hand.
"Alright, I slowed the message down and ran it through a GoldWave," he admitted, "I took out the hiss and this is what I got." Dean pressed a few buttons and a new recording played.
"I can never go home," a woman whispered mournfully. A chill ran down my spine.
"Never go home," I repeated to myself, musing. Something about that phrase was getting me.
"So where were you during this hunt?" Sam asked as I mulled over the recording and Dean's notes.
"I was working my own gig," Dean explained proudly, "This hoodoo thing down in New Orleans."
"Dad let you go on a hunting trip by yourself?" Sam asked incredulously. Dean looked up at Sam, his expression mildly offended.
"I'm twenty-six dude," he pointed out. I felt a twinge of jealousy in my gut. I had never been allowed on my own while hunting. John and Uncle Bobby had always insisted that I have someone else with me. I wasn't even allowed on my own when we had to split up while investigating. Either Dean or Sam had always come with me. I knew it was because I was a girl, but that just pissed me off more.
"Okay, so when did you figure out he was missing?" I asked, breaking free of my bitter thoughts. Sam was the one with family issues, not me.
"Well, we were supposed to meet up at this motel after a couple of days, just to check in, you know?" Dean explained. Sam and I both nodded. We knew all about the rendezvous with Dad to make sure everyone was still breathing and relatively whole.
"He never showed?" Sam asked. Dean shook his head, his expression grave.
"That was a couple of weeks ago," he explained, "I figured maybe he just got caught up in the hunt, but after I got that message I came straight here."
"So…we're going to Jericho?" I asked. Dean looked at me for the first time since I'd left Sam and Jess's apartment.
"We're going to Jericho," he confirmed.
Alright, so I hope you guys enjoyed this first chapter. I'm going to post the next chapter by next Wednesday, but probably sooner since I'm excited. I've already got the first five chapters written so things will be pretty regular for awhile. I'm hoping to get the next few chapters finished by the end of the week so that I can stay ahead. Also, yes I plan on including Cas later on in the story, but it's going to follow pretty closely to the show, so that won't be for awhile yet. What do you guys think of Rose? I love her relationship with Jess. I'll see you guys next time in Jericho...
Reviews are always appreciated! ;)
xoxo
Lani