A/N: This will be the second-last chapter before I put this story on hiatus. My time is very limited for fanfiction and not going to lie, guys, but my other story is getting more attention, and I'm rather inclined to write that in the time I get. I'm actually on a hiatus from all fanfiction activity. But I will be back. In a month or two. And one more chapter to go after this before that happens, so not that bad, huh? :) I'll be back with another beta by then.

This chapter, you'll see some brotherly love. Oh, and there's some smut too, hahaha. Destiel shippers, don't worry, I'll get there.

Comments would be wonderful. :)

9. Whipped Cream and Chocolate Cake

Albus licked his lips as he processed the things that Rose had just said to him. She had revealed everything to him — about how she felt messed up, and stuck and helpless, and how she just wanted to get out of this. His face evidently paled as she spoke, and she knew she was scaring him, but she had no choice — she was scaring herself, and she couldn't take it anymore. However, Albus never stopped her from talking, and she was grateful to him. She knew he was one of the only people in the world who could see her break apart, without running away. And that was why she considered him her best friend.

"Rosie, you have no idea how strong you are…" Albus spoke finally, when she was done, giving her hand another squeeze. "You will get through this. I know. You know how? I see you everyday, helping people deal with all sorts of crap. So many patients in such terrible situations, and then you — you have your pregnancy, and your situation with Malfoy… you're so much stronger than me and Molly, and hell, even James and Lily put together. And speaking of Molly — Rose, you practically saved her life. Merlin knows, we'd have lost her if it weren't for you.

"You are the most capable of getting out of this in one piece, you know. Remember what you said to me when we were kids? On that camping trip?"

Rose's memory went back to the day when she and Hugo had gone camping with Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny. She would never forget that day. It was one of the incidents that had made her believe she'd do well as a psychiatrist.

They had trekked up a small hill, and Aunt Ginny and James had been the first to reach up there. Rose, Uncle Harry and Lily had followed up soon after. The last, however, was Albus. He was having trouble climbing up the final rock, which, Rose was aware, was difficult to climb up without slipping. And as her cousin held out his hand to his laughing siblings, Rose had knelt down before Albus's red, sweaty face, and said calmly, "Take that last step, Al."

"No," He had said, biting his lips so hard, they were bleeding. "It's too difficult!"

"Come on," she encouraged him, as James, Lily, Hugo and her uncle and aunt looked on. "You can do it."

He listened to her, and tried harder, but failed. He was just left where he was, his legs positioned awkwardly as his hands blistered from holding on. "I… can't…"he gasped, almost in tears.

"Don't say that," she had said. "Because look, this is just a small obstacle — a physical obstacle. There are a lot of obstacles that you have to face in your life, and if you can't take this step, how will you get through all the other ones? Come on. You can do this. Listen to me."

He listened to her, determination beginning to dawn on his face, as the expression on his face changed rapidly from fear to strong will. His hand slowly moved away from being extended to his siblings, to the rock, as his legs battled against the surface, and he finally hauled himself to the top, panting in pride, before pulling Rose into a hug. "Thanks, Rosie."

Currently, Rose nodded at Albus. "I might remember that day."

"You know, Mum was so impressed with you," said Albus. "She kept telling Dad that you were one of the strongest people she knew. Like your mum. Now, Rose, I'm telling you this: you can do it. You're more than capable. This was one of those obstacles you were talking about, and you are strong enough to deal with it, okay?"

Rose took a deep breath, and then there was a knock at the door. She wiped away the remnants of tears from her eyes as she waved her wand again. "Come in."

The door swung open, and she saw Scorpius. "Hey," he said, in a low voice.

She gestured for him to enter the room, but he didn't, and as she looked at his face properly, she realised that he had that look — and she couldn't remember seeing it anytime in the near past, because, after all, she'd seen only once before. And that was another day she'd never forget.

"It's… the anniversary of her death tomorrow. That's why Millie wants me to stay here. She can't have me in the house for now. But I don't want to be alone. Please don't leave me alone."

It was the day that Scorpius had spoken to Rose about his ex-wife, and his dead daughter. The time that Scorpius had accepted defeat. He had given up his hold on the very thing that he didn't want to talk about — the thing that was actually holding him back. And right now, he was back, looking just like he had looked on that night, two years ago. Defeated.

"I tried," he finally said, coming in, and Rose knew he had heard the conversation between her and Albus.

"Scorpius—"

"No, I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't — I didn't know it was so hard for you." Albus looked utterly uncomfortable with his own presence in the room. Quietly, he excused himself and left, as Scorpius took his place.

"I didn't mean—" Rose sighed, but Scorpius held up a hand.

"Rose… I just… I'm just like that, you know," he gave her a shaky laugh. "I'm a git. I tried to hold back Millie long after it was over between us. I was in denial about the real reason that Vic was with me for quite a while. And then you…

"You have been my saviour," he said quietly. "My hero. I'll never forget that. But… I never knew I was causing you all that pain. I never expected that. Like Potter said, you're so strong — it seems like you can take just about anything and…" he trailed off. "I'm sorry I took you for granted. I shouldn't have done that. You're human too."

Rose wanted to say something, but if he'd just heard what she had said to Al, she knew it was of no use. He looked at her earnestly. "I've been selfish. I wanted to be in my child's life, be happy again, but I didn't realise how much that was disturbing you. But honestly, I just wanted you to be happy, you know? And obviously, me coming and prodding you about us again and again — it's not going to make anything better. So…"

He sighed. "I just… can we start over? As friends? Just plain, platonic friendship?"

"Scorpius," said Rose, "I just… I'm sorry you had to hear it from me like that. I'm just going through a lot."

"I understand."

"But… a friendship would be good," she said. "It's a start."

He looked sad. "Don't say that, Rose, don't give me hope."

"Okay, then, we'll be friends. Let's see how we do as friends."

"Thank you." He bent over and kissed her cheek lightly, and Rose let him, feeling the light brush of his lips against her skin. She shut her eyes as he pulled away, not opening them when he got up and left, and wondering how much he truly cared for her if he was ready to give up on her just so that one of her burdens would be gone.

~o~

"See that couple there?" Molly said, gesturing mildly to a man and woman, not too far from where she and Dean were sitting.

"Mm hmm," said Dean, glancing at them.

"The bloke is cheating on that poor lady," replied Molly. "I know it."

"How can you tell?"

"Oh, call it an intuition," winked Molly.

Dean gave her a smile before forking some of the pie into his mouth. Molly took a sip of her beer, watching him as he concentrated on his dessert, his long eyelashes pointing downwards and hiding the marvellous green that his eyes were. He was definitely one handsome devil — she had to give that to him. And she couldn't see how Rose expected her to exercise control.

Mentally apologising to Rose, Molly spoke. "Dean?"

He looked up, his mouth full of pie. Giggling, Molly gestured to a spot of whipped cream on the corner of his mouth.

He wiped it away, but not quite, and Molly didn't know if he'd done it on purpose, but on a sudden, inevitable urge, she lightly traced a finger over the cream and wiped it off. "There," she said, putting a napkin to her finger, trying to ignore the jolt of electricity that passed through her when she touched his lips.

The green eyes were looking at her again, lids shutting sluggishly over them as a firm hand cupped her face. And Molly didn't even resist Dean as he came close… closer… and she could count the freckles on his face before his lips touched hers.

It started out slow — her hands moving up his thigh and he stopped briefly to gasp, and then his lips came back on hers, working more vigorously this time, his tongue peeking out and starting to trace her mouth. Abruptly, Molly pulled away, her heart fluttering. "Not — not here…" she gasped.

He stood up immediately. "Men's room. Meet me there in two minutes."

She nodded as he left, uncaring about his pie, and folded her arms around herself, trying to stop the goosebumps that were forming on her. Her heart was still beating fast — extremely fast — and she tapped her shoes restlessly as she counted two minutes. Finally unable to contain herself, she rushed to the loos, and found him waiting inside as soon as she had pushed the door open.

"What took you so long?" he gasped, and she barely had time to lock the door behind her before he grabbed her by the shoulders, getting himself down to her height and crashing his lips onto hers while she threw her arms around his neck. His tongue was more active this time, feeling the corners of her lips and moving tantalisingly to the borders, and with a sudden motion, he pushed her against the wall, one hand palming the tiled surface, while the other gripped her waist.

His lips moved away from hers, kissing their corners, and then moving to her neck, at the spot between her clavicles, causing her to fist the material of his coat while his own fingers played with the strap of her dress. He eased it down swiftly, coming up and kissing her bare shoulder as she started to pull off his coat.

The coat finally got to the floor. Molly un-tucked his shirt and ripped open the buttons, hands slinking in and tracing fingers over his back. Dean, in the meantime, reached under her dress, unhooking her strapless bra, and she pulled away just for a moment just to get it off, and then they were back, his hands exploring eagerly, fingers stroking secret areas and thumbs rubbing tantalising circles while he pressed soft kisses on her neck. She moved her hands to his bare chest, and up and down to his neck, his shoulders, and back to his chest. Then she drew him into another kiss, her fingers moving along his spine as their tongues flicked against each other.

Her hands moved to his front again, and down to his trousers and she undid the button, and then the zipper, urgently drawing forward the elastic of his boxers as she inserted her fingers into them. He let out a gasp at her touch; she pulled away briefly to get her knickers off. As his trousers and boxers fell down, gathering at his ankles, he kissed her again, placing interlocked hands on her arse and hauling her up easily. Her legs wrapped around his hips, she pulled up her dress, so it was gathered at the level of her navel, and felt the touch of his warm skin as their abdomens clashed against each other. Then Molly was pressed against the wall for a second time, and he moved for the final step. She gasped, biting her lips, while he let out a low moan of his own.

They moved in unison, rigorously, bodies writing against each other, his arms holding Molly up easily, while her hands worked on exploring him. He moved her, rocking her in synchronisation with himself, so that her body was arching in ecstasy, small gasps of breath escaping her. And all she saw after that were his green eyes widening, his mouth parting in a series of gasps of his own, and sweat pouring down his forehead as he threw his head back, and she groaned happily while she clutched on to his close-cropped hair, and then moved to grip on to his muscular back, aware that she had probably died in pleasure.

~o~

"That was…" Dean trailed off mid-sentence as he redressed himself, watching Molly smooth her hair by the mirror.

"It was fantastic," said Molly as she straightened her dress. She sighed. "Wish we didn't have to stop."

"This is a public place," he chuckled, buttoning up his shirt.

"Unfortunately."

As he reached for the final button, a voice suddenly spoke from behind Dean. "Hello, Dean."

"Fuck!" Dean swore, jerking his hands away from the button and turning, only to face Castiel. He sighed. "In the bathroom, Cas? Really?"

"I need to talk to you. Alone."

Molly heard this and headed to the door. "I'll see you at the table. Cheers, Castiel!"

The angel nodded at her, and spoke to Dean as the door shut behind Molly. "I waited at the table, but you didn't seem to want to come back. I could only guess that you were here."

"So you decided to invade my privacy by entering the bathroom?" Dean asked him.

"I didn't know that you were having intercourse," Castiel shrugged

"Cas…" Dean grumbled. "You're a stupid bastard, you know that?" He watched the slight bewilderment in Castiel's face and explained further. "Humans have something called personal space. You're not supposed to invade it. Understand?"

"Yes." Castiel paused. "Dean?"

"Yeah."

"I don't understand what 'personal space' is supposed to mean."

"It means you've gotta keep your distance," replied Dean. "We need our privacy. You get it now?"

"Yes."

"Good." Dean turned his back at Castiel and headed to the door, only to bump into the angel again. Literally. A jolt of pain passed through the area beneath his right clavicle — the part that had hit against Castiel. It sent crackles of signals throughout him, and Dean swore under his breath. "Goddammit, Cas! What now?" he asked, rubbing the spot.

"I haven't finished talking to you."

"So did you have to fucking bump into me like that? You couldn't call out?"

"Sorry," said the angel apologetically. "I just wanted to say — my superiors reveal that there is possibility to track and prevent another Seal from breaking."

"Okay," said Dean. "Where?"

"We will find out and tell you. Stay alert," replied the other.

"Sure. You done?"

"Yes."

"Can I go back to Molly?"

"Yes."

"Thank you."

Dean walked out of the bathroom at long last, still rubbing the spot that had bumped against Castiel. The son of a bitch was strong, he realised. He, Dean, was going to have a bruise there by night time. Great. As if the hand print weren't enough, he'd soon bear another mark of a nerd angel's touch.

Just as he took his place next to a smiling Molly and accepted the check, he heard the flutter of Castiel's wings again, to find the chair next to him occupied by the angel. "God, Cas…" he began, but the angel just placed a hand on the sore area, and Dean felt the pain vanish immediately.

"Thanks," he said, as Castiel vanished again, not noticing the looks that Molly was giving the two of them.

~o~

May second had never been a happy day for Sam. Accepted, it was his birthday, which meant that most people would be happy and excited, but all that gripped Sam on this day was dread. Dean had gone to Hell on this very day, exactly a year ago. Sam had had to start getting used to the idea that his brother just had a year to live, starting this day, exactly two years ago. And even before that, none of his birthdays had been all that special, with his father away on hunting trips for most of them, and with only Dean and his little cupcakes to celebrate the occasion.

Dean had arrived from the date last night with a smile plastered to his face, which Sam couldn't decipher. He guessed that the date with Molly had gone well. And pretty well, it seemed, when Dean had slumped into bed hours later, the same smile on his face.

Sam couldn't blame him for it. He quite liked Molly too — not in the way that Dean did, of course, but he thought Molly was really nice. She was friendly, always cheerful and easy-going, no matter what. Considering the circumstances that Sam and Dean were going through, having such a person around was a blessing.

Sam rolled to his side, watching the clock next to his bed tick time away, its hour hand inching to five o'clock. He could hear the birds chirping outside, and he sighed as he sat up. Dean was still asleep on the other bed. Sam made his way to the shower, getting his clothes without waking his brother. He was done with the shower in ten minutes, and after a shave, he sat down with the SWH files, marking out the suspicious names.

There really were too many names. After two days, they were still collecting names, and this wasn't good. Maybe it was time they went to the hospital itself and found out what was going on? How would he and Dean get in, though?

An hour passed with Sam noting down as many names as he could find that fit the MO of the ghost. His legs were cramping up. Pushing the papers away, he stood up and stretched. He was hungry, and he could do with breakfast.

He picked up his coat and put it on. As he got outside the room, he was greeted by the familiar sight of Molly sitting on her couch with her parchment. She looked up when she heard him shut the door. "Hey!"

Sam smiled at her. "Good morning. Up so early?"

"Not adjusted to the time zone," she shrugged. "What's your excuse?"

"I don't sleep all that much."

"Seriously?"

"Yep."

"So where are you off to now?"

"Breakfast. Coming?"

"Okay!"

She folded her parchment and stowed it into her pocket. "Oh," she said, rummaging through her other pocket, "I forgot." She produced a cell phone. "Al got us mobiles. To keep communication with you guys, you know."

"Ah, okay," said Sam, removing his own. "You want my number?"

"Sure! Thankfully, I know how to use these," she said, and looked up at him, waiting for him to dictate his number. He obliged, and took hers in turn.

"Shall we leave?" he asked her. "We'll pick up breakfast for everyone," he said.

"Yeah, let's go." They headed out of the hotel together, neither of them noticing Rose slipping out of her and Molly's room, and walking to the Winchesters' room.

~o~

Dean groaned at the loud sounds of knocking as he shifted lazily on his bed. "Get the door, Zammy."

There was no reply, but the knocks kept coming. "What the hell?" Dean muttered, opening his eyes and yawning. "Sam?"

Sam was nowhere to be seen. He probably woke up early and went to get breakfast. Dean swore again and got off his bed, bare feet padding to the door. He opened it to see Rose standing outside.

"Hey, Rose," said Dean, covering a yawn. "What brings you here so early? Found something?"

"Not really," she replied. "Can I come in?"

"Sure," he replied, seeing the urgent expression on her face, and standing aside to let her in. "What happened?"

She shut the door behind her. "Dean, it's about Molly."

~o~

Molly was humming an unfamiliar tune as she and Sam sat in the diner and waited for their breakfast. Sam looked at her, watching her head bob slightly, and her grey eyes sparkle as she looked at the rising sun. She looked really happy about something.

"What are you humming?" he asked Molly finally, diverting his thoughts to her.

"The Weird Sisters," she responded. "The song is called 'It's His Defeat'." She grinned when he didn't understand. "Today's a special day in my world. It's Victory Day."

"Victory Day?"

"Yeah. Eleven years ago on this very day, Uncle Harry defeated Voldemort."

"So you guys celebrate this every year?"

"Yep, firecrackers, Hogwarts flags, and my uncle's face peeking out of posters everywhere."

"How don't we notice it?"

"You do," she said. "Your news will be full of owl spottings and meteor rains tonight. Just wait and watch. Also, you might have noticed that there are firecrackers every year on this night for no reason."

"Oh, if that's it, Dean and I do see all those things every year," he said. "We realised that it happens on my bir – this day too. We tried making connections, but there was nothing."

"Not your kind of problem," she replied. "You can tell all your hunter mates."

"Oh, yeah," he said. "Wait till Bobby finds out about you guys."

"Bobby?"

"He was our dad's friend," said Sam. "He's like a father to us now, really."

"Why? What happened to your dad?" she asked, but then clamped a hand over her mouth, her eyes widening. "Sorry. I didn't mean—"

"No, it's fine," Sam replied. "He passed away, actually, a little more than two years ago." He looked down. It still hurt to think of it.

"I'm sorry," Molly repeated. The sparkle in her eyes was gone. "That's terrible."

"We're used to it," Sam sighed. "Perks of being a hunter. Everyone around you has to die."

She opened her mouth to say something, and looked shocked at what he'd just said. But she didn't go on to ask him who else had died, and Sam was thankful to that. At long last their breakfast arrived and they picked up the containers to head back to their hotel, an awkward silence now making its way between them.

~o~

"Do you like her?"

Dean raised an eyebrow at Rose's blatant question. "Excuse me?"

"What happened yesterday?"

He frowned at her. "You are a really nosy shrink."

"It's not…" Rose bit her lip. "Look, I'm not psycho-analysing you. I barely know you, and it's not my place to tell you anything, unless you want to know. This is for Molly. I'm trying to help her."

"Is that so?"

Rose nodded, and Dean could see that she was honest. He wondered what it was that Molly needed saving from. Did Rose think that Dean was going to dump her cousin, or break her heart in some way?

He sat up straight. "Okay, Juno, here's the deal. You tell me your story first, and I'll tell you mine in exchange."

"Juno?"

"It's this movie — never mind," said Dean. "So you're all set to be a single mom, aren't you?"

Rose looked surprised. "How did you—?"

"If you had a husband or a boyfriend, he wouldn't allow you to do what you're doing now."

She chuckled. "You'll be surprised at how stubborn I could get."

"Yeah, but something tells me that I'm right about you."

She sighed. Then nodded. "You are."

"Of course I am. What was it? A night's mistake?"

"No," she replied. "Scorpius."

"Scorpo? No kidding!"

"No, really," she said. "We were living together and all… and shit happened… he walked out on me, and I was already pregnant at the time. It was just that neither of us knew."

"And he didn't want back in?"

"He did. I didn't want him back in." Dean let out a low whistle at her words. Rose crossed her arms. "Your story, now."

"It was a normal date," he said, "Until Cas interrupted us rudely."

"You had sex. You and Molly."

It wasn't a question, but Dean didn't reply to that, and Rose understood the silence. "I told her…" she said. Licking her lips, she looked at Dean earnestly. "Okay," she said. "Just… Molly… don't hurt her, okay?"

"Well, it was just a date… but I'll be good to her. That's a promise." If he were honest with himself, Dean wouldn't mind another date with Molly. He had even hinted at it the previous night, but Molly didn't seem keen, so he'd dropped the subject.

"So this is because you care for Molly, huh," he said.

"Yeah," she replied. "She's been through some stuff. She bounced back with a lot of difficulty and in some ways, she's overcompensating too. But most of all, I hate seeing her hurt, you know."

"Yeah, I know," Dean said to her. "But tell you what, Juno? Don't worry about her. She can take care of herself."

Rose smiled. "Is that why you're so protective of Sam? He can't take care of himself, like Molly?"

"That's different," said Dean. "You don't know half of what that kid's been doing."

"What has he been doing?"

"You don't want to know."

"Maybe I do." Rose paused. "Maybe I can help him. Talk to him."

He let out a sharp laugh. "If that'd help, I'd have talked him the crap out of this long ago."

"I'm particularly good at cracking stubborn people," Rose offered.

"Yeah," said Dean, "But you know… it's not just something I can go around talking about. It's…" he paused. What could he say to her, that Sam had demon blood in him? Demonic powers? He didn't discuss Sam's abilities with anyone except for Bobby and Castiel — and it wasn't as though he completely trusted the angel either. He just had no choice. But Rose? He had barely known her four days. He didn't want to talk to her about Sam.

Rose kept silent, watching Dean as he fought with his thoughts. When he didn't talk for a while, she decided to continue the conversation. "It's okay, if you don't want to tell me about it. I understand. I get that you're not the talking kind, either. I just wanted to know if I could help somehow."

Dean looked at her, and bit his cheek. Was it possible that she could help, after all? He had tried his best to convince Sam to stay away from Ruby — to stop using those powers; Maybe Rose could get him to do it. Talk him out of it? She was a shrink, and she did seem to have the capacity to make all kinds of people talk. Hell, he was thinking of telling her about the Sam issue right now, and that was a big enough achievement on her part. Plus, he couldn't shake off the feeling that she was one of the most trustworthy people he'd ever come across. So why not try?

Shaking out of his thoughts, Dean pressed his lips together and nodded. "Okay," he said. "I'll tell you. But the deal stands. I'll tell you my story if you tell me yours. And you can't tell your cousins or your ex about Sam."

"Done," said Rose, "And your secret will be safe with me." Dean watched in amazement as she waved her wand and conjured a comfortable-looking armchair, and a couch out of thin air. She sat on the armchair and gestured to the couch. "Your session begins now, Dean," she said jovially, "and I won't even charge you."

"Lucky me," he muttered, before going over and sitting on the couch.

~o~

Sam returned to his room with breakfast, only to find Rose and Dean deep in conversation, which broke hastily as soon as he entered. Rose excused herself, vanishing the extra furniture behind her.

Sam was bewildered as he watched her walk away. "Did you just have a… session with her?"

"You can call it that," said Dean. "God knows, I need it too." Sam was bewildered at what he'd said, and noticed that for some reason, Dean looked guilty about it. However, he seemed to shake it off as he walked over to Sam. "Happy birthday, brother."

They hugged briefly and awkwardly, and Dean patted Sam on his shoulder before heading to the tiny fridge. He pulled out a small box and opened it, to reveal a triangle of delicious-looking chocolate cake.

"We went to a nice place yesterday," Dean explained, reaching for his jacket, and pulling out a small candle. He opened up the box properly and placed the candle on the cake. "I thought you'd like something better than a muffin this time, especially as your last two birthdays… haven't been the best."

Sam was silent as Dean lit the candle. How could he forget the last two years? Horrifying images ran through his mind. Memories. Dean cold and bloodied, his eyes staring, as Sam clutched on to him, hoping, wishing, praying for him to come back. And then the year before that. The brief triumph of Azazel's defeat. Then the crushing grief. They were in his head, crystal clear, as though it were just yesterday…

"Sammy?"

Dean's voice brought him back to reality. The candle was lit, and Dean was standing by the cake. "Make a wish," he said, smiling. Then he hesitated. "I'd have called Rose and the others, but something tells me you don't want them to know."

And once again, Sam couldn't believe that his brother was standing there — flesh, blood and bones, back, incredibly, from Hell. He should have been used to the idea, but the grief and pain he'd been experiencing for the months before Dean came back were overriding everything else. And yet, Dean was here. Alive and well.

Without thinking, Sam walked over to his brother and pulled him into another hug, his chin on Dean's shoulder. The other man seemed surprised at the gesture at first, but then a hand rested on Sam's back.

Dean smiled weakly as they pulled away. "It's just a cake, dude."

"Easy for you to say," said Sam, clenching his jaw. "I was the one who kept getting kicked in the nuts each year on this very day for the last two years. And you're right," he continued, "I don't want the others to know. God knows, I'd like a quiet one this time. "

"Well," said Dean. "I'm back to take away your crown. All that matters, innit?"

"Yeah," said Sam, bending over the candle and blowing the little flame away. "It's all that matters," he repeated, before closing his eyes and wishing that Dean would let go of his burden, and let him, Sam, help for once.