AN: I feel like I'm becoming the author who cried wolf... I keep saying wait and then deliver quickly. I'm ammending my statements. I will go as fast as I can; don't panic if it takes time. I'd never abandon this. :)

Disclaimer: I own nothing except Rose and a stuffed dog named Lewis.

It was only a ten minute drive from the motel to the nearest 24-hour diner, yet Rose was still almost asleep by the time they got there. The backseat of the Impala was the closest thing to a home she could remember having, and the moment she touched the leather interior it felt like slipping into her childhood bed. Even with the two faded bloodstains and the faint, lingering smell of gun oil.

She woke up though, when the car pulled to a stop. In fact, she was first to the door. Dean was momentarily crushed by the fact that they didn't have apple pie, but brightened when he saw that blueberry was an option. It wasn't as good as apple, but it wasn't a bad second.

Three still steaming slices of blueberry pie were on the table before the companionable silence was broken. "So," Rose said quietly. "Uhm, what were you up to while, you know, we were away? What've you been hunting?"

Sam took a sip of water and frowned thoughtfully. "Demons mostly."

Dean shook his head. "Sammy. Demons are at least a two person job. Us being...gone, was no reason for you to get stupid."

Sam made Bitchface #14, or so Rose categorized it. "I know that, Dean." He looked at his pie for a moment. "I figured, the least I could do was live and carry on the Winchester fight."

Rose squeezed Sam's knee and Dean took a really big bite of pie to give himself time to think of something to say.

"Ooook," Rose spoke again instead, dragging her spoon through the pie filling that had dribbled out onto the plate. "When you guys decided to attack Castiel, brilliant idea by the way," (Sam looked a little sheepish. Dean looked like he'd do it again) "I saw that you had a knife. I barely got a look at it, but it seemed new."

"Yeah." Sam glanced around the room and saw that they were alone, the solitary waitress on duty back in the kitchen gossiping with the cook. "Here." He laid it on the table between his siblings.

Dean whistled appreciatively. He picked it up, inspecting the jagged edge. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his sister tense and turn slightly pale. "You ok?"

"Yeah." She rubbed the back of her neck where all the hair was suddenly standing up. "Sam, what do those symbols mean?"

"Don't know exactly... Why?"

She made a face. "That knife makes my skin crawl."

"It's just a knife," Dean assured her, then realized that he didn't actually know that. "Right, Sam?"

Sam fidgeted awkwardly for a moment. "Well, not exactly. See, it, uhm, kills demons."

"'Kills demons,'" Dean repeated, eyeing the knife with a new mixture of appreciation and apprehension. "Where the hell did you get a demon-killing knife?"

"Ruby," Sam answered quietly, sinking down as far as he could in his chair. That wasn't far given his size and the size of the chair.

"Who's Ruby?" Dean asked, leaning forward.

"Girl I've been hunting with."

"Must have been hunting together a lot for her to give you a knife like that..." Rose teased.

"We've got mutual interests," Sam said, trying, and failing, to sink even lower.

"Oh?" Dean leered. "Like...hardcore sex?"

"No! It's not like that!" He protested, indignant. Then a slow smile spread over his face. "Well, maybe two or three times. Four. Ish."

Rose gagged. "Gross! Brothersex! Icepick to the eardrums."

Sam laughed and playfully pushed her.

She pretended to almost fall off the chair and took a bit of his pie in retaliation. "Seriously though, you're as suspicious as Dean. This Ruby chick must have something going for her besides being a cute fellow hunter."

"Well, yeah," he agreed. "I've been demon hunting like I said. But, mostly, I've been hunting one demon. Lilith."

"Who's Lilith?" Dean asked.

"Up and comer. Really powerful," Sam explained. "Owns a lot of contracts. I was hoping I could get you free somehow or, if that failed, keep the demons from organizing."

"Organizing what?" Rose picked at her crust and didn't look over.

"That I haven't figured out. But I don't give a damn." Sam's voice was a lot colder than his siblings were used to hearing. "I want that bitch dead. And Ruby's helping."

"You trust her?" Dean asked, his voice carefully casual.

"I do."

"Gonna keep hunting with her now that we're back?" Rose asked in the same tone. Avoiding the emotional was a Winchester family specialty.

Sam looked slightly startled by the question. "I don't know. I mean, no. But I, I think we should keep hunting Lilith. I may not know exactly what she's up to, but, guys, it's huge."

Dean scraped the plate clean of filling. "It's too early for that. Let's get a room and get some sleep first."

"Agreed," Rose echoed, a sudden yawn splitting her face in two.

Sam smiled and put a $20 on the table, standing and stretching. "Want me to drive?"

"No," Dean objected quickly. "I got it. I've been separated from my baby long enough."

"Maybe you two should get your own room," Rose joked, sliding into the backseat.

"Shut up," Dean said with no heat whatsoever in his voice.

"Mmhmm," she mumbled sleepily.

By the time they found a motel, Rose was fast asleep. Sam checked them in, while Dean leaned against the car, exhausted. He could only see two stars when he looked up, but they were beautiful.

Sam came back and looked at his little sister curled up in the middle seat. "I'll wake her if you want."

"No, just get the door." When he did, Dean scooped Rose up carefully.

"You haven't done that since she was little," Sam whispered, opening the motel door.

Dean just grunted. Putting her on the couch, he smoothed her hair back from her face. Sam got the spare blanket from the bed he knew Dean would make him take. Further from the door, further from danger.

The men didn't say anything more, just shucked off their jeans, stowed weapons under their pillows, and climbed into their respective beds.

Dean forced himself to stay awake until Sam's gentle snores joined Rose's soft snuffling sounds. All right with his world, he let his hand touch the handle of his knife and his eyes drift shut.

It was the last peaceful night's sleep the Winchesters would have for a long time.