A Crow with a Rose
Chapter Ten
Rose found her thoughts wandering more often lately. As she and the boys worked on their next case, she allowed her mind to drift again, the paperwork lying forgotten on her lap as she sat on the trunk of the car.
She could clearly recall the feeling of his hands against her. Goosebumps had broken out and she shivered despite the warmth. His touch had been soft but purposeful, pressing against her leg with just the right amount of pressure. It did hurt when he first ran his fingers over her broken ankle, but the searing heat had been quick and relief immediately washed over her. When he brought his hand down her leg the second time, her nerves stood on end with electricity. She felt everything with a newfound sensitivity, acutely aware of his hand and the tips of his fingers pressing slightly against her.
Then when he told her to show her other bruises, she moved very gingerly as her heart began to hammer. She was unsure at first if he really meant it, but he didn't tell her otherwise and she tentatively began to lift her shirt. Beyond grateful that she was facing the other way, she grimaced at the twinge of pain as she lifted her shirt over her head and quickly gathered it to her chest to cover herself. The level of vulnerability was unreal and she felt a flicker of fear. He could hurt her if he wanted to. Then again, he could hurt her whenever he wanted to, he was a demon after all.
But when his hands touched her…
Goosebumps broke out again at the thought. She felt small and breakable under his hands as they so very slowly made their way down her back. His fingers even curled around her waist, settling for a moment. Just like with her leg, there was intense heat where the bruises were healed and he brought his hands down a second time.
"Rosette…"
When he breathed her name, she felt her heart skip a beat and her chest ached in response. She couldn't describe the tone he used when he called for her. It sounded like it was a sigh of relief but she could feel…something else. Like there was so much more coiled up tight but he didn't say anything else. His hands had circled her waist again and she did her best not to flinch in surprise as he suddenly leaned forward, his forehead resting against her shoulder. Doing her best to remain perfectly still, she found herself slightly leaning in to his touch. Time seemed to slip away and she had no idea how long they were together, no words exchanged between them. He was so warm, she just…
"Earth to Rose."
She started at the sudden voice, snapping back to attention. Dean had been talking on the phone with Lisa and she had tuned out his voice as she became lost in thought.
"Sorry, sorry," she apologized.
Dean raised a concerned brow while Sam started to go over the report he just picked up from the police station.
"Six girls in seven days. More disappearances than this city has seen in over a year," explained Sam, showing them the missing person flyers. "All about the same age and—"
"And cute," added Dean. Sam couldn't help but scoff at his brother and Dean shrugged. "Ice cream comes in a lot of flavors."
"Or one, in this case," spoke up Rose, pointing the images. "Look, all of these girls have brown hair and brown eyes. Whatever's taking them, it certainly has a type."
"Right," confirmed Sam. "Half a dozen girls, late teens, a shower away from greatness. Sounds like a profile to me. I wonder what else they have in common."
"Well, six directions to go here. Pick a number."
"Seven," decided Sam.
"There's another one?" asked Rose.
"The call just came in today," he said with a nod. The three loaded back into the Impala in silent agreement, making their way to the latest victim's home.
This was the first case she was on with the boys since her injury. Obviously the normal amount of time for a bone to mend didn't pass due to her supernatural assistance, but fortunately she didn't have to explain herself to the brothers. Bobby, on the other hand, demanded answers as to how she was miraculously healed overnight. Even though working as a hunter called for incredible lying ability and to be skilled in twisting the truth in a moment's notice, her mind went blank when Bobby asked her how she was better. She couldn't think clearly and not to mention that she didn't want to lie to the older hunter. It would be a new low. After everything he did for her? She couldn't lie to him.
"C-Crowley…he healed me…"
And the look of instant anger was enough to make her duck around the door's frame.
"That demon was back in my house?" he had growled. "And what did that son of a bitch want? He already has your damn soul, so why'd he come back? To gloat?"
She quickly explained that he didn't say why, only that he did and then he left. She did leave out the part about him staying for a large part of the night, because she didn't want to make him any more upset. At least she had some sense.
Bobby gave a hard sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose, most likely due to the headache she was causing him.
"Listen…I know, I ain't your dad," he sighed. "But you need to be careful. Whatever…this is, between the two of you, you gotta watch your back. Crowley's a demon and he's only out for himself. The further you can keep him from ya, the better. He's already got his claws in ya and I'm just worried that when you try to get away, you won't be able to. Do you understand me?"
She could only nod in sheepish agreement, flustered by her actions and thoroughly shamed that she caused him to worry. Thankfully, when the boys asked how she was healed so quickly, Bobby covered for her and claimed it was Castiel.
And here she thought her life couldn't get any more complicated…
The three were welcomed into the seventh victim's home, her father more than forthcoming when they asked about his daughter.
"Kristen's a good kid," he told them. His exhaustion was evident, the imprints of shadows under his eyes from lack of sleep. "A little naive, sure. You try and be a good parent. Girls are hard…"
He meekly made eye contact with Rose and she gave a sympathetic nod. She couldn't imagine how her parents were handling the fact that their own daughter was "missing." So she did her best to push those thoughts and worries down, otherwise it was doomed to turn into a quick downward spiral of guilt and tears.
"We want to find your daughter," she assured him. "Let us help."
He nodded, swallowing with difficulty. "Upstairs. Last door on the left."
"Thank you."
Dean led them up the staircase, Sam following and Rose bringing up the rear. They were quiet, not wanting any family member to accidentally overhear that their case was actually centered around monsters and not just a regular missing person incident.
"What do you think he was talking about?" asked Sam when they approached the door. "Drugs?"
"No idea."
They both looked to her and she gave a shrug as Dean reached out for the doorknob. "Hey, c'mon, us girls are complicated. I mean, there's drama, acne, mood swings and—"
When the door swung open, her sentence took an abrupt turn as he flipped on the light.
"—vampires."
The lights being on barely made a difference in the darkly painted room. Though it did allow the dark color to contrast sharply with the various pale figures in the posters that covered every wall. They tentatively stepped into the room, hardly able to see where they were placing their feet. Dean even bumped into a life size cutout of some assumed vampire with unreasonably tall hair. She grimaced at the poster of the vampire biting into a girl's neck, tugging on her hair and creepily looking directly into the camera.
"Oh, this is so much worse," groaned Dean. "Were you like this?"
"Well, I sold my soul to a demon at sixteen, so I'm not really a good example for the average girl. But, damn…" she said, looking around. There was a four poster bed with deep red curtains, velvet by the look of them. A chandelier with red tinted glass. Even a candelabra made to look as if it was constructed out of bones and skulls.
"And here I thought my lava lamp was cool…" she muttered.
"So, vampires?" asked Sam.
"No, these aren't vampires, man," argued Dean, closing the door. "These…these are douchebags."
"Yeah."
"Every girl's dream."
"Wow."
They started to explore the room further, looking for any clues. Which was a little more difficult than usual given the…aesthetic of the room. There were ravens perched on bookshelves, black candles, creepy photos, everything that would be their red flag was this girl's design choice.
"A-ha. All right," said Sam. He pulled a laptop out from under her pillow, holding it up for them to see. "Let's see what we can see."
He took a seat at the desk and opened the computer. Another vampire image appeared along with the chime of a scream.
"Real cute," she sighed.
"Was this ever your thing?" Dean asked her.
"I was more of a werewolf fan, to be honest," she answered. "More expressive."
"That's just uncomfortable," commented Sam about the background image. The vampire was staring directly into the camera with his gold eyes.
"What's he so bummed out about?"
"He's supposed to be the stand offish love interest, if I had to guess," she said.
The two turned to look at her and she rolled her eyes at their expressions.
"Yes, I was one of these kids too. I try to repress my junior high years," she waved her hand dismissively. "Judging by her choice in mythical douchebag and these posters, she was crushing hard on the emotionally-unavailable character type."
"English if you could, Lady of Darkness."
She laughed at his jab. "You know, she liked the character that was like the "bad boy" type. He liked her but he was dangerous so he "has to stay away for her own good" sort of thing. An unrequited love with equal parts danger and drama."
"You didn't get out much, did you?" asked Dean. She smirked and elbowed him playfully.
"I was what you'd called indoorsy."
Dean picked up a book, examining the cover. The girl was wearing a white nightgown while the guy was standing in the doorway, looking over at her, his back slightly stooped.
"Look at this. He's watching her sleep. How is that not rapey?" asked Dean.
"Nice nightgown. Because every girl in this century has a standard issued white nightie to represent their virginal status," snarked Rose.
The computer screamed as Sam tried to guess the password. Dean opened up to a random page and started to read aloud.
"He could hear the blood rushing inside her, almost taste it. He tried desperately to control himself. Romero knew that their love was impossible."
"Romero," she snorted. "Kinda hitting it on the nose with that one."
"Guys, shut up," scolded Sam.
"This is a national bestseller. How is that possible?"
"I'd bet you a dollar that there's a love triangle too," added Rose.
He dropped the book onto the bed. He snapped his fingers as an idea came to mind.
"Hey, try, uh, 'Lautner'," he suggested to Sam.
He started to type but then stopped. "Wait, he's a werewolf. How do you even know who that is?"
Rose couldn't help but let loose a laugh. "Ha! You're nerds too!"
"You kidding me? That kid's everywhere," answered Dean, examining a pillow with another stoic faced guy. "It's a freakin' nightmare."
The computer screamed at the incorrect password.
"Hey, how many T's are there in Pattinson—"
The computer gave a peaceful chime instead, granting Sam access. "That's it. We're in. Ha."
They both returned to the desk, looking over Sam's shoulder. The computer had been left on some kind of social network site, posts available for them to see. The younger Winchester was clicking through the main page quickly scanning the messages.
"Well, her inbox is full from some guy claiming to be a vampire," he said with a sigh.
"A real vampire?" asked Dean.
"Well…I can only meet you at night. I don't trust myself with you. The call of your blood is too strong," he read. "Vampires phishing for victims?"
"It's probably just a human mouth breather, right?"
"That's what she would think too," said Rose. "So, she assumes that it's obviously some guy playing into the role she's obsessed with, and then it turns out to be a real vampire and, what, they drain her? Or actually turn her?"
"Right? Talk about easy prey," agreed Sam. "These chicks are practically throwing themselves at them. All you gotta do is, I don't know, write bad poetry."
"Huh."
He clicked on the most recent message. "Well, this guy wanted to meet her at a place called The Black Rose."
They turned to look at the so-named girl and she sighed.
"Great. Junior High me would be thrilled."
"Just reporting the news," said Sam.
"Give me a break," said Dean. "This is probably just your standard issue perv, right?"
Sam closed the laptop. "Only one way to find out."
The Black Rose was aptly named. The interior was dark just like the victim's bedroom. Low lights, red curtains, and scarcely a shred of color on any patron's outfit. Her dark green plaid shirt even seemed too bright for the atmosphere. She had taken a seat at the bar, ordered a drink from the bartender with blue and purple hair, and worked on scoping out the area. They might gain too much attention arriving altogether without a black jacket, facial piercing, or dyed hair between them. So, she had lost at rock-paper-scissors and had to go in first.
She sipped her drink as she glanced around the bar. The place was pretty busy with most tables full and the bartender constantly filling orders. Idly, she swirled her drink in her glass, doing her best not to be too fidgety. A few pairs of eyes had roamed over her from her short time there which made her skin crawl. Only one guy had tried to use some poetic line as she walked in, comparing her hair to the beauty of a flame. Fortunately, her glare was sharp enough that he quickly lowered his hand, his intent to touch her hair vanishing. She was quick to mentally scold herself. She needed to be smoother, not so twitchy at every motion.
Slowly, she brought the drink to her lips again and took a sip. Not actually drinking much of the liquid but giving the appearance. She took a breath, forcing herself to try and calm down. It had been a long time since she was in a bar or club scene of any kind. She had to remind herself that this time was different, not to mention that Sam and Dean would be there and she wouldn't be by herself for much longer.
Pulling the necklace from beneath her shirt, she began to fiddle with the signet ring she had taken to wearing. It was easy to hide with her usual clothing and the small item provided a little comfort as she rolled it between her fingers, her thoughts wandering.
The last time she had been to a bar was on her twenty-first birthday…
December 31, 2005
The bar was packed with people and she could already feel her heart rate rising. She hated congested places, they always made her nervous. Too many things could happen, not to mention that it made it difficult to socialize with the loud music and too many bodies. The only reason she was there was because her work friends had insisted on taking her out for her birthday to celebrate her turning twenty-one. As much as she would much rather stay home, she had drawn the short stick and had to work that day and then she didn't have the heart to turn down their offer since they were so excited.
They had already been there for a couple of hours already and she was nursing her second drink, not too interested in finishing it. It took ages to finish her first drink and her friends were quick to refill it. While it was nice of them, she really wasn't interested in drinking. She would much rather have a soda or even a nice tea than spend twelve dollars on a fancy mixed drink. Though it was the perk of being taken out on her birthday, she didn't have to pay for the said drink.
As the night dragged on the bar only seemed to get busier and busier due to the holiday crowd. People wanting to be somewhere for when the ball dropped to kick off the New Year or it was the next stop on the bar crawl. When someone bumped into her sharply making her spill the rest of her drink, she decided it was time for her to go home. Not to mention, if she left then she could beat the rush home. Unable to catch sight of her work friends, she settled for sending them a text message to thank them for taking her out and that she was heading home and would see them on her next shift.
Buttoning up her jacket, she stepped out into the December chill. Relishing the sharp air against her flushed skin, she took a few moments to cool off, enjoying the sudden quiet. The music and chatter of the bar sounded again as the door opened, allowing a man to step outside. He was tall with broad shoulders and blonde hair, and she thought he looked familiar but shrugged it off. It was a small town, she probably passed by him in the store of something. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes and held the carton out to her, which she was quick to politely decline. He lit one for himself and took a drag, shoving the pack back into his jacket's pocket.
"So you don't smoke and you don't drink. What do you like to do?"
She quickly looked to him again, alarm bells going off in her head. In a crowded bar he had noticed how much she actually had to drink which meant that he had been watching her. Her heart was beginning to pound. So if he was watching her that closely, that could mean that him stepping outside at the same time as her was not a coincidence.
"Do I know you?" she asked.
He took another deep drag and she shivered as his gaze slowly roamed over her. Her brain was trying to scream at her to run to her car but she didn't know if leaving would cause him to follow her to her car. He was taller than her and he would have the advantage since she would need to fumble with the keys to unlock her vehicle, hoping that it wasn't iced over from the weather.
No, she had to leave. Pushing herself from the wall she gave a small wave, trying to keep the atmosphere as pleasantly neutral as possible.
"Have a good one—"
His hand grabbed her arm, fingers digging into her bicep as she was yanked off balance, her feet slipping out from under her. Before she could try to regain her footing or even catch her breath, pain shot through her body like lightning and she couldn't register the dull sound of her head striking the wall. Disoriented, she saw that the guy was talking, his mouth moving but her ears were ringing and she couldn't hear what he was saying. She was dimly aware of his hands on her body, roaming over any part of her that curved. Her movements were sluggish as she tried to push away, pinned by the wall. The music from inside made the wall against her back vibrate with the sound. People were beginning to countdown until the ball dropped, her friends thought she had left. No one would hear her.
There was the rip of her jacket's zipper, followed by the button on her jeans, and she couldn't quite get a good enough angle for a punch of any sort. He was too big for her to overpower and too wide for her to slip away from her current spot. So, she opened her hand and flexed, slamming her nails into the side of his throat. She pushed as hard as she could, sinking her nails as deep as possible into the thin skin and then ripped forward.
He let out a yell and pulled back allowing her to dart past him, slipping under his arm.
She scrambled for her car keys and hit the unlock button on the fob. When she slid to a stop, the door handle lifted but the door remained closed. Ice.
"Shit—"
With the force of a linebacker, the man crashed into her as he threw her to the ground. She could've sworn that something cracked but she had to focus on trying to regain her breath even as her vision swam. One hand was wrapped around her neck while the other one tugged at her jeans again. She squirmed, trying to wriggle free but he only squeezed harder. Her vision was starting to darken from lack of air and her heart was racing with fear. How was she going to get away? What could stop it? Who could help her? Her thoughts were becoming muddled as her grip lessened, one hand already to slipping to the cold ground.
"C…Crow…ley…"
A foot came swinging out of nowhere and the guy was sent flying back with a crack. Air came rushing back, stars blinking into her vision for a moment as she coughed hard while also trying to take in as much sweet, wonderful oxygen as she could.
"Th' hell are you?" demanded the man. He scrambled to his feet, his nose bleeding heavily and distinctly broken.
Pushing herself up onto her elbows, she saw the edge of a black coat and it took her a second to look up, hope daring to flicker within her.
"Well, aren't you a character?" came the smooth voice. "The name's Crowley."
"What kinda stupid name is that?"
"Can't be any worse than yours, Bentley Crapse."
"H-how do you know my name?" he demanded, getting to his feet. He was obviously bigger than the demon, but Crowley only chuckled.
"Oh, we'll be seeing a lot more of each other, kitten."
With a single snap, the man was nothing more than a smear of blood against the snow. She couldn't work her voice to scream out of surprise, flinching as the body suddenly exploded. Before she could try to wrap her mind around it or the fact that she was splattered with hot blood, the demon crouched down next to her and suddenly the cold parking lot was gone.
When she blinked, she found herself in her room back at her apartment. Confused, she looked down to see that she was no longer in her jeans and shirt, instead she was in a comfortable pair of sweatpants and old high school hoodie, sitting in bed. Had she changed? Was she dreaming?
There was that familiar heat and she whipped her head to the side to see Crowley standing at her bedside.
"Crowley?" she breathed.
"The one and only," he answered with a smirk. Carefully, his fingers threaded into her hairline by her temple and there was a surge of heat, erasing the previous ache from the back of her head. She couldn't help but lean in to his touch. His warmth felt so good, relaxation starting to sink into her entire body.
"H-how did you know?" she asked him softly, her eyes starting to close from the sudden exhaustion.
"You called and I answered," he answered simply. "You should rest for now. You'll feel better in the morning."
"Can…can you stay?" she dared to ask. "J-just for a minute…?"
He smirked at her word choice. "Well, I could spare a minute."
She couldn't remember if he did stay or not. As soon as her head hit the pillow, she was out like a light. The next morning when she woke up, she found herself covered with a blanket she couldn't remember having on her bed.
Slipping the ring back beneath her shirt, she heard someone speak up just to her left.
"Aren't you a vision of hellfire," cooed the stranger. She turned to see some guy dressed head to toe in leather, a spike collar around his throat. He had to brush his dyed hair to the side and she could see the red contact lenses. Her stomach rolled as his gaze lingered everywhere but her face. "How about you and I go find some dark candles and do some Satan worshipping of our own—"
"Get lost."
He immediately shrunk at the voice as the large figure of Sam came into view, shouldering him to the side to take the seat to Rose's left. She heard Dean take the seat to her right and gave a sigh of relief. No one would be tempted to talk to her now, thank goodness.
"Sorry, Red. Should have sent one of us in with you," apologized Dean. "Didn't realize you were the gothic commodity."
"It's the hair," she joked weakly. "It establishes my witch status in the underworld."
"Well, we wanted emo chicks and this looks like ground zero."
A waitress in a black latex dress stopped by to drop off a couple of beers and Dean watched her leave in curiosity, the dress squeaking with the movement.
"You think she wears all that rubber to the beach?"
It only took a moment of observing for Sam to suddenly whisper,
"There."
Across the bar there was a guy who was coming on fairly hard to a pretty girl with brown hair. Just from looking at her, she fit the profile of the other victims.
"He's hitting on her hard enough," he reasoned.
"Seems to be the theme," muttered Rose. "But you think he's a real vampire?"
"It's hard to tell. And we got multiple choice," said Dean, nodding to another pair where the girl was feeding a guy olives from a drink. Brown hair, about the right age, and if they were closer she would probably have brown eyes. Another potential match.
"Great…"
It only took another moment for the first guy to take the girl by the hand and start leading her off the dancefloor. The second guy started to move as well, going in the opposite direction but without his girl.
"All right. You two go with Efron, I got Beiber," instructed Dean.
Leaving the drinks abandoned, they went their separate ways. The guy with the more casual attire of the patrons started to head to the lower floor and they were quick on his trail. Weaving and sidestepping past the moving bodies of the club, Rose was sure to stay close to Sam, not wanting to be separated. Vampires were fast and unreasonably strong, so hunters' strength relied in numbers to face them. She knew to stay close to Sam, after countless cases over the past year or so, it was in her best interest to stay near him. It allowed her to watch his back and due to their history together, she knew how to read his signs fairly well. She learned pretty quickly that Sam's reaction time was unreasonably fast. More than once she had caught an arm or a fist to the face because she didn't move or dodge fast enough. It didn't take long for her to step up her speed, to spare herself more hits at the very least.
It was weirdly quiet on the lower floor. The music was still pounding from the main level but no one seemed to be talking, their mouths unmoving. Their target was walking past the cubicle type rooms, glancing around but not stopping anywhere. He took a left and they followed accordingly.
A door was ajar and Sam led the way, carefully pushing it open further with his fingertips so that it didn't make a sound. It was some kind of storage room and there was a hanging light that was swinging slightly which meant there was just a burst of motion of some sort before they entered. The vampire had to be inside. No human could move with such a burst of speed that would cause a hanging fixture to move.
Rose was acutely aware of where each blade was on her body as she actively listened and looked for anything to be out of place. To kill a vampire they needed to decapitate them. With the monster's enhanced speed and strength, it was a deadly endeavor to get close enough to even try. She had a set strapped to each ankle, one to her left forearm, and the machete was carefully tucked into the back of her waistband, which was one way to ensure excellent posture.
Even with the one overhead light, the storage room was still dim. She kept her breathing soft as she matched Sam's footsteps, essentially acting as his shadow. They needed to be aware of the slightest sound—
There.
It was tiny scuff of a shoe from behind her and she was a flurry of motion. She knew that if she heard it, then Sam did too. With a well-practiced move, the machete was in her hand and she was whirling around, ducking low and lunging. The blade bit true, slicing into its midsection and she ripped it forward.
The vampire hadn't even finished a hiss before it's head dropped to the floor, the body collapsing after, completely gutted. Dark blood pooled onto the tile floor as it remained still. Breathing hard, she looked to Sam to see that he was okay, his blade barely spotted with blood due to the speed of his cut. She looked to hers for comparison, most of the blade colored red. She needed to work on her weapon speed too.
"C'mon, let's get to Dean," he said, his breathing even. It was as if he hadn't even decapitated a vampire.
"Y-yeah."
Another difficulty with working with Sam, through no fault of his or hers, was the fact that he was hard to keep up with. A fact she was immediately reminded of when they started to run where Dean was trailing the other potential vampire and victim pair. Damn long legs! She couldn't help but mentally groan as the difference between them grew. Due to their height difference, it was easy for Sam to take the lead. He disappeared around the building's corner and she pumped her legs hard to catch up.
Rounding the corner, she half collided with Sam who was standing absolutely still. Catching herself before she fell to the ground, since running into the youngest Winchester was equivalent of hitting a wall, she followed his eyeline, confused as to why he stopped out of nowhere.
Dean was pinned against the dumpster by some of person, not their previous lead, but there was no doubt that he was a vampire as well due to his strength and that he was smearing his bloody wrist onto the hunter's mouth.
"Dean!" she cried out, bolting forward. The machete was in her hand again and she was dimly aware of Sam rushing forward as well.
The vampire let Dean drop to the ground and she gave a vicious upswing as soon as she was close enough. He sidestepped her attack but she was able to cut some of his hair, the curly strands floating the ground. She saw him start to move and she immediately dropped to duck his assumed hit. With their speed she had to react even faster, going with whatever naturally sounded right, not leaving time to think. Sam took the next move, swinging as well and the vampire dodged again.
With a cheeky smirk and a wave, he jumped high and began to scale the building with impressive speed. His cackling echoed in the alley, leaving the hunters behind. When he was absolutely out of sight, Rose turned to Dean, dropping to her knees to help him sit up. Grabbing a fistful of his jacket and working one arm around his back, she was able to get him upright.
"Dean!" she couldn't say anything useful beside his name. Judging by the excessive smear of blood across his mouth, it was clear what the vampire was trying to do.
"Rose…" he croaked. "Sammy…"
From the look in Dean's eyes, it was clear that the monster succeeded.
They were able to get Dean back to the motel room without any further incident, thankfully. He was still leaning heavily on her as she helped him into the room, Sam was already pulling the curtains closed. He suddenly staggered.
"Oh, my god, what is that sound?" he groaned, one hand pressing against his ear.
"What sound, Dean?" asked Sam.
He pushed away from Rose, standing on his own and his hand blindly reached out and knocked over the lamp, the bulb smashing. She quickly rushed to the outlet to unplug it from the wall. Dean was still stumbling around, his hands over his ears.
"Hey, come on," he groaned. He walked over to the wall and banged his fist against the cheap wallpaper. "Keep it down, damn it."
He brought his hand up again, closing his eyes against the overhead light. "Please, please, shut that off."
Rose hurried over and flipped the switch, dosing the room in darkness. Only weak light filtered through the thin curtains, allowing her to vaguely see what was happening.
"Better?"
"Dean, you should sit down," advised Sam.
"You sit down," he snapped. He paced for a moment before taking a seat on the edge of the bed. "Of all the ways to die, never thought I'd be going out like this."
"You're not going to die," Rose told him firmly.
"Dean, nobody is going out."
He turned his head at some sound, unheard to her. With a growl he stepped over to the clock and ripped that out of the wall as well.
"Samuel will kill me when he gets here," he said.
"No, he won't," Rose said. "We won't let him."
"Yes, you will, because I'm going to ask him," he argued.
"Dean!"
"You two won't do it. I know he will."
Sam spoke up. "Just hold on a second—"
"For what? Look at me!" he said, gesturing to himself.
"We can figure this out."
"How?!"
"We've called Bobby too so he's working as fast as he can," added Rose quickly. "We just—we just need to hang tight for a bit."
"Hang tight?" he repeated. "Any minute now I could rip out your throats. I'm a monster, Rose!"
He went still again, just like before when he was hearing something they could not. Rose watched him carefully, nervous about what he would do next. What was it?
His voice was rigid when he spoke again, looking at Sam.
"Why aren't you freaked out?"
"Of course I am."
"Really?" pressed Dean. "Because I can hear your heartbeat and while Rose's going like a jackrabbit, yours is pretty damn steady."
As if in response, her heartrate quickened at the acknowledgement and Dean glanced her way for a second before turning his glare back to his brother. She turned to look at Sam too, confused by his lack of reaction, outwardly and inwardly. He was always calm and composed but she attributed that to years of hunting, but in this case where his brother was the one danger, even his cool should be shaken in the least bit.
"That's because I'm trying to stay calm," he reasoned. The pause beforehand concerned her. It was only natural to be worried, it was his brother after all. So why…wasn't he?
"Dean, look, Samuel will know what to do."
"Come on, man. I'm a monster. Okay?" he said. "This is not a problem that you spitball. We gotta deal with this before I hurt somebody."
"Let's at least wait until Samuel gets here before deciding on anything drastic," she tried to reason. "As long as you stay here, no one else is at risk of being hurt. Please?"
Dean didn't say anything, bringing his hand up to rub his temple.
Sam broke the apprehensive silence.
"How does it feel?"
Both Rose and Dean looked at him incredulously. Was now really the time?
"Now?" asked Dean. "Now you wanna talk about my feelings?"
"No, I mean physically," clarified Sam.
"How do you think it feels? Not good," he grouched. He stalked across the room and started to pass Sam.
"Where are you going?"
"Bathroom, okay?" he snapped, clearly annoyed. "News flash, Mr. Wizard. Vampires pee."
When the door slammed shut, the remaining two shared a look and sighed. What were they going to do?
Sam was checking the cupboards for anything useful while Rose paced back and forth, anxiously waiting. Dean had only been in the bathroom for a moment but she was already worried with him out of sight. Everything was in a precarious balance at the moment and she would feel better if he was in the same room as them.
The faucet creaked to life in the bathroom, a steady stream of water sounding. She and Sam shared a look. The water was continuous, no splashing as if someone was washing their hands. Both of them quickly hurried to the door, Rose knocking.
"Dean?"
With no answer, Sam opened the door and she peeked around him, only to see an empty room and a wide open window.
"You can't keep track of your brother now?"
It was sufficient to say that Samuel wasn't all too pleased when they informed him that Dean had jumped ship. He came storming into the motel room with a pair of duffel bags, dropping them loudly onto the table.
"Well, I didn't think he'd just—"
"He's not himself, Sam," the older hunter scolded. "He's a monster and he's hungry. I'm honestly surprised he didn't try to drain your little friend here."
There was the Samuel Campbell charm. Always with the implications that she was the weakest of the pack. While technically true in comparison to their years of experience, she still thought she was at least helpful.
"Good to see you too," she greeted. He was always prickly when she was around due to her not being "blood". As if that was a guarantee of loyalty.
He spared her an annoyed look before turning back to Sam. "We gotta prepare to do the right thing."
"We are not killing him!" argued Rose. His dislike for her be damned. "There must be something—"
Another voice sounded from behind her.
"Thanks, Red. But I told you he'd kill me when he showed up."
She whirled around to see Dean leaning against the fridge in the kitchenette for support.
"Dean," she breathed. She heard the drawing of a blade and she didn't need to turn to know that Samuel had pulled the machete. Instead, she stepped closer the recently turned vampire's side. "Are—are you okay?"
Samuel didn't wait for his answer and demanded, "Did you feed?"
He slowly stepped closer and she guessed by the weariness and that he still looked so run down, he didn't drink anyone's blood. If he did, his physical state would be considerably improved.
"I went to go say goodbye to Lisa…" he said, "…which, for the record, was a lousy idea…"
"Dean, answer the question," ordered Samuel. Rose sent him a pointed look. Obviously Dean didn't feed on anyone, but the older man ignored her.
There was a pause as Dean leveled them with a long look.
"You can relax," he gritted. "I didn't drink anyone."
"Thank god," sighed Samuel.
"But I came close." He slowly shrugged off his jacket, tossing it to the side before facing them again.
"All right. Do it."
There was a beat before Samuel answered, "Okay, if you insist."
Fear squeezed her heart tightly and made to step between them. "Dean, no—!"
"Stand back, Rose," he growled.
Samuel stepped closer and she firmly placed herself between them. He looked from her to Dean and said,
"Or I can change you back."
A pin could've dropped in the silence.
"What?" all three of them chorused.
Samuel glanced back at Sam before continuing. "I didn't drive all this way to kill you, Dean. I'm here to save you."
Rose a relieved yet annoyed sigh. "You could've opened with that, y'know."
He continued on like he hadn't heard her, pulling out an old leather bound journal from his bag. Opening it to a bookmarked page, he passed it to Dean.
"This is my grandfather's journal," he explained. "The cure's an old Campbell recipe, kind of like the soup."
"But less noodles and more monsters," quipped Rose. His usually stoic expression dared to quirk a hint of a smile. It was a concession she would take.
"Exactly. But no one's tried since God knows. From what I hear, the stuff's a bad trip."
"Awesome," muttered Dean.
"Hey, the cure is good," he said firmly. "But a lot of this is on you. You drink, you're done. It won't work. I'm talking one drop of human blood."
"I got it."
"Do you?" he pressed. "Because you will feed. It's a matter of time."
Dean closed the journal. "What else do we need?"
"Some stuff we got, some we gotta get," he answered honestly. "The trickiest thing on the list, blood of the fang who turned you."
"The guy was huge," warned Sam. Rose nodded in absolute agreement. While the stereotypical vampire was portrayed as lean and narrow framed, the one in the alley was broad and solid. Even as a human he would be formidable.
Samuel shrugged. "Nothing in the recipe about easy."
"I can get it," said Dean, stepping away from them.
"You gonna walk right into the nest?" asked Samuel.
"Well, I'm one of them ain't I?" he asked. "So all I gotta do is get in there, get the guy alone…and shoot him with so much dead man's blood he'll think he's rushing a fraternity."
Sam offered, "I should come with you—"
"No. Dude, you guys reek," he shot down. "You're like a walking hamburger. I gotta do this solo."
"Yeah, except we haven't been able to find them yet."
"No problem. I can smell them, two miles east of town," he said, pulling his jacket back on. "You guys get the other crap and meet me there."
"Dean," called Samuel. He stopped with a sigh. The hunter reached into his bag and pulled out a capped syringe filled with dark red, nearly black, blood.
"It's dead man's blood," he explained, as if they needed a refresher. "Now there's enough there to drop a linebacker and then some."
Dean carefully took the syringe.
"Good luck, son."
Without a word, he left the room.
Busying herself with packing up their bags, she was surprised to hear Samuel address the youngest Winchester.
"What the hell's wrong with you, Sam?"
She stopped in shock, turning to look at the two. She was slightly behind Sam so she couldn't gauge his expression but Samuel looked concerned. He wasn't paying attention to her so she kept her head down and continued to pack, listening to every word.
"What do you mean?"
"You knew about the cure."
She couldn't help but look up at that, her neck twinging at the sudden motion. Sam knew about the cure? Why didn't he say anything?
"What? No, I didn't," he argued.
But Samuel continued, "We talked about it months ago."
"Not me. It must have been Christian or something," he denied.
"Huh. That's strange," he said. "Because if you had known, it'd be almost like you let him get turned. Get a man on the inside, help us find that Alpha vamp we've been looking for."
Sam gave a scoff. "You serious? You think I'd do something like that, risk my own brother? What's wrong with you?"
While the words were the right ones, Rose couldn't help but feel like they lacked…a certain degree of emotion. He didn't sound offend, or indignant by the accusation. She knew if someone had claimed that she let her sister get turned into a vampire she would tear them a new one. But Sam was…he was just saying it, like it was a fact. No real inflection in his tone.
There was a pause where nothing was said and Sam spoke up again.
"Look, I'm just glad we can fix him."
With that said, he grabbed his bag and left the room, leaving the two behind. After a moment of silence, she dared to speak up.
"Are you…absolutely positive that you told Sam about the cure?"
He gave her a stern look. "Why? Have you seen something?"
She worriedly bit her lower lip, unsure. "I don't…I don't know but before, when we were catching up with Dean, Sam was ahead of me and when I caught up…"
She felt uncomfortable saying anything against Sam, but the more she thought about it, the more it concerned her.
"…He was just standing there as the vampire had Dean. Not in the process of moving, but just…watching. I crashed into him and he seemed to snap out of it, so maybe it was shock or…something."
For once, Samuel Campbell seemed to pay attention to her words, watching her intensely.
"I'll keep that in mind," he said after a beat. "Now, stay here and hold the fort."
"Wait—what?"
Before she could argue her case, the door was already swinging shut behind him and the hunter was gone. She let out a groan of frustration. So much for helping.
Thunder rumbled outside as she impatiently waited in the motel room, constantly checking the windows and her phone. Her heart skipped a beat as Samuel's van and the Impala pulled into the parking lot. With bated breath, she waited until everyone had exited their vehicles and she was beyond relieved to see everybody in one piece. They came back together which had to mean that it all went according to plan.
They arrived at the room a few moments and she quickly ushered everyone in. Sam and Samuel looked perfectly fine while Dean was covered in blood and still looked worse for wear, his skin having a gray tinge to it now. He was still fighting the vampire transformation, resisting human blood.
Not much was said as Samuel worked on concocting the Campbell vampire cure. Rose silently took inventory of everyone, thankful that they all made it out of the nest. She wanted to check on Dean further but she kept her distance, not wanting to push him over the edge with the chance for blood and she was aware of how fast her heart was beating which was probably adding to his frustration. He was cradling his side, a sign that he was hurt as well.
She hated this so much. Being unable to help her friends when they were hurt. It just reaffirmed what Samuel already believed. That she was useless. So she fell back on her new habit that she developed ever since she found out that she was going to live past her twenty-sixth birthday. Her hand slipped into her pocket and she gripped the deep red rosary tightly, feeling the beads dig into her skin as she hoped for the best.
In short order, the cure was finished as Samuel drew a syringe of the blood from the fang that turned him, adding it to the jar.
"If this works, it's not gonna be a kiddie ride," warned Samuel.
"That's great. Light her up," grunted Dean, leaning against the table for support.
"So, what'd you see in there?" asked Sam. She looked at the taller hunter in confusion. He had been odd ever since Dean was turned. The lack of proper concern for his brother's well-being, Samuel's accusation, and now the pressing for information. Goosebumps dared to break out as she watched him carefully. With each passing moment, it felt like there was more faith in what Samuel had assumed.
Had he let Dean get turned in order to get inside information on the alpha vampire? Her stomach rolled in disgust and fear at the thought. If he was willing to do that to his own brother, what about her? If there was the first chance to use her as bait, without her knowledge, would he do it? All of the cases they worked, was she only still alive because it was convenient for him?
The thought sent a violent shiver down her spine.
Dean was equally confused by Sam's question. "What?"
"In the nest. What'd you see?" he repeated urgently.
He shook his head. "I can't hear you. Your blood is so freaking loud. Just—back off."
Samuel had just started to pour the liquid from the jar to the mug when Dean waved for him to hurry up.
"All right, give me the damn cure," he rushed, squeezing his eyes shut in pain. He was handed the mug and when he brought it close, he groaned at the scent. Giving a tight grin, he gave them a nod.
"L'chaim."
And he tossed the concoction back, his blood stained hands gripping the mug tightly.
He gave a shudder and a moment passed. Then another. Nothing.
Dean seemed also confused. "I don't think it—"
His body suddenly convulsed, throwing him to the ground before he could finish getting the words out. Rose lunged forward and pulled the empty bucket close to him in just the nick of time by half a second, blue liquid spewing from his mouth. She quickly threw her arms out to catch him and keep him upright, gripping the back of his shirt and the other against his chest to keep him from falling into the basin. The unnatural vomit was nonstop and she was worried that he wasn't able to catch his breath, he just continued to retch.
"Is it working?" asked Sam.
"Either that or he's dying."
Rose sent him a scathing glare, not amused by his answer. She flinched as Dean suddenly arched his back with a cry of pain. His eyes were dark and the sclera bloodshot, the blue residue now more black against his skin. Her eyes widened as the secondary set of vampire fangs became exposed, sliding down from the gums and over his natural teeth.
With a strained croak and another shudder, he fell into her and she dropped to the ground with his weight but she kept her arms tight around him, keeping him from crashing entirely. His body convulsed violently and she did her best to support him, not wanting his body to lash out entirely in case he hurt himself further. His grip was bruising, nails digging to her arms as he held onto her in return and she winced under his strength but she didn't falter. One hand was pressed firmly against his chest, right over his heart, making absolutely certain that it was still beating.
It seemed like ages until the convulsions finally abated. His coloring was returning to normal, still ashy pale from the whole ordeal, but his eyes had shifted back to their green color, the sclera white once more. Most importantly, his heart was still beating hard and steady.
The next morning everyone was packing up and cleaning up the room, trying to erase any sign they were even there. Besides the lamp being broken and the alarm clock cord being frayed, it was cleaned up as well as it could be. Fortunately the motel standards weren't too high so it wouldn't cause suspicion. Rose was in the middle of double checking her backpack when Dean gingerly made his way out of the room.
"Hi." Sam was the first to greet him. "So, what'd you see?"
"What?"
"In the nest, what'd you see?" he repeated, hopeful. While it was the next day, Rose was still bothered by him insisting about it.
"Uh, well, I'm still working through it…" he answered slowly after a pause, "but they're not figuring out anything on their own."
"What do you mean?" she asked tentatively.
"They're getting their orders from the top," he answered. "Where to go next, everything."
Sam asked, "They're top? As in…?"
"Their Alpha," he confirmed. "That's what I think it is. They've got some sort of psychic thing happening. He sends them, uh, I don't know, messages."
"Saying what?" pressed Sam.
"Honestly?" he said. "Recruitment drive."
"What?" asked Rose, her confusion evident. "Wait—like they're actively looking for humans to turn rather than, I don't know, the ones they typically take?"
Dean nodded. "Their Alpha's building an army."
"Well, that's comforting," grumbled Samuel.
"That's not the worst," he continued.
"Then what is?"
"We don't scare them anymore."
There was a tense silence as everyone let the words sink in. Monsters that weren't afraid of hunters? That was very, very bad news.
With nothing else to add, they started to collect their bags and make their way out to the parking lot and their respected vehicles. Rose made to grab the last duffle bag, one already across her body, but Dean beat her to it, slinging it over his shoulder instead.
"Oh—thanks."
"No problem."
They both made their way out of the room, well behind the others and she matched his pace, unsure if he was lingering because he was still hurt or if he wanted to ask her something.
"Listen," he began, "I just…wanted to say thank you."
She raised a brow in question. "Thank me? What for?"
"For yesterday. For not letting me let Samuel kill me," he explained. "From what I can remember, you were pretty adamant about it."
"Well, yeah, of course," she gave a half sort of laugh. "I'm not going to let anyone kill you, Dean. Including yourself."
She gave him a friendly shoulder bump. "I don't know if it's obvious or not, but let me make it crystal. You and Sam are incredibly important to me."
"Aw, is this going to be a chick flick moment?" he fake groaned. She bumped him this time with the bag unable to hide her grin.
"Hey now, as a chick I'm entitled to a few moments," she laughed. "And since we're having a moment, I want to apologize too."
"Apologize?"
She nodded. "About keeping Sam's arrival topside a secret from you. We thought—we thought it was for the better and that you were better out of the hunter's life. So, I want to apologize to you. We shouldn't have kept him a secret. I would've been just as mad if it were me."
At the mention of his brother, his face turned serious once more.
"Speaking of Sam, I wanted to ask you…when the vamp turned me, was Sam…" he took a breath, "was he just watching?"
She bit her bottom lip in worry. "I…can't say for certain. When I caught up, I ran into him because he was standing still, so I don't know for a fact if he was already standing or if he just stopped."
His expression darkened.
"I have a pretty good idea of what happened then."
"If we could," she said quietly as they stepped outside, "at the next chance, I should go back to Bobby's. I—I think we need to start digging again at how exactly Sam got back."
He nodded in agreement. "The sooner you and Bobby can get on it, the better. Something's up and we need to know what."
REVIEW! Dun dun duuuuuun, starting to suspect Sam now! And we get a bit more backstory for Rose and Crowley! Vampires and Alphas, this season is rolling right along! Don't worry, we get Crowley in person next chapter!
Next time: Family Matters!
Hope you enjoyed! Your thoughts would be love as always!