Rose continued, "The spirits in this house aren't malevolent…. They're not out for revenge. There's nothing even they could do anyway," she added vaguely. "They're still here because of the ring. To protect whoever wears it."
Dean didn't believe a word of what she said, but Sam questioned her, "What about the ring, Rose?"
"Look, all I can tell you is that it's been in my family for generations. The demons, they want it. And they'll stop at nothing to get it. Those spirits, the ones in this house, died protecting it and they still protect it. Protect me. That's all I can tell you because that's all I know," she lied to them, looking each brother in the eye, willing them to believe her. They did.
"And you really believe that it's safe here?" Sam asked.
"Yes, I know it is," she said to him. "Look, I don't control them, they're not under any kind of spell, but…. Well, they've been protecting me for a very long time. Since before I had the ring even. Here, I'll show you." she added, getting up from the couch.
She led the brothers into the hallway, lined with old family photos. She pointed to a picture of a baby with dark blue eyes, then to a five-year-old at a birthday party, surrounded by gifts but looking sullenly at the camera, and finally to a little girl around 9 or 10 years old, sitting alone on a swingset. In the birthday photo, a portion of her left leg could be seen in what looked like a cast. "Those are all me," she said. As they studied each of the pictures, the brothers saw two spirit orbs hovering just over the baby and three spirit orbs in the other two photos, surrounding the little girl, bathing her in light.
Rose looked up at the brothers, each of them studying the pictures intently. "Any time I was in trouble, they were always there. Protecting me, saving me. Now do you believe me?" As Sam and Dean studied the family photos, they noticed that none of the other family members in them had orbs around them, with the exception of one photo. A large man sitting on a couch, holding a cigar in his hand. In that one photo, he had two orbs, floating just over his head, as the two women next to him were cast in shadow.
Sam pointed to the man in the photo. "Who's that Rose?" he asked.
Looking where he was pointing, she sighed and nearly broke down crying again. "That's Uncle Slim when he was younger. Back in the 70s, I think, before I was born."
"Your uncle," Sam said, a look of pity on his face for her and the tragedy in her family, "…he didn't die of a heart attack, did he?"
"No, he didn't," she said with surprise. "But, how did you know that?"
"Just a hunch," Sam told her truthfully. "The men at the funeral acted like they were ready for something to happen, that's all."
She grunted and grinned slightly. "Yeah, they did, didn't they? That did kinda look like war was about to break out, come to think of it." Her smile faded as she said, "But you're right, Sam. It wasn't a heart attack. He was …. he was killed."
"Your family's got enemies that will go so far as to kill them?" Dean asked, concerned.
She looked at him as if he were one of them for a second before responding. "Of course," she said. "Doesn't everyone?"
"And the FBI?" Dean asked. His spine shuddered as he thought of how close they were to the very agency looking for him.
"With Uncle Slim gone, everyone's on edge. I mean, they all know Grams is taking over the family business – she's been running it with him for years, but, well, you know how men are," Rose answered. "Those agents were protecting what's left of the family – Grams, Aunt Rose, my cousins. They were there to make sure a war didn't break out."
"Wait," Sam said to her. "You mean to tell us that the FBI works for your family?"
She leaned against the wall next to the picture of herself as a baby. "Something like that," she said. "Not exactly. You could say they have an understanding. Uncle Slim provided them with what they needed for certain investigations, they look the other way on others. The price for his intel to them was to protect the family. Not that they did a bang-up job protecting him though," she added in disgust. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes, fighting off the tears.
Sam and Dean just looked at each other. "Okay, it's late and we're all tired," Dean said. "We'll stay here one night but then we're leaving. And you're coming with us," he said to Rose.
"Fair enough," she said. She looked at them cautiously. "You're not gonna start handcuffing me again, are you?" she asked. "In my own house?"
Dean looked over at Sam, eyebrows raised. "Absolutely" Dean said, as Sam said, "No, of course not." at the same time. Dean looked at his brother. "…not." he added in defeat. He looked back at Rose, "No, well, of course not. But you are sleeping where at least one of us can keep an eye on you." he said.
"And which one of you would that be?" Rose asked him sarcastically.
Later that night, Rose lay in the king-sized bed of the master bedroom, under a giant canopy and fluffy white cotton comforter and sheets, Dean and Sam both on either side of her. "You've got to be kidding me," she muttered as she snuggled down under the covers. Sam and Dean just looked at each other briefly over her head at her statement and then they each lay down to sleep.
Sometime during the night, something shook the bed, stirring Dean awake. He looked to see a cat that had jumped up at the foot of the bed and was padding its way towards Rose. He started to turn over to go back to sleep, when he noticed something. The calico creature came up and pushed its way under Rose's hand. As Rose moved her hand in her sleep and put her arm around it so the cat could snuggle up to her, Dean saw that the cat was not entirely solid. He could see right through it. "Sam!" Dean hissed at his brother. "Sam!" In a deep sleep, his arm draped over Rose's waist, Sam stirred and grunted but didn't wake. Dean just moved towards the edge of the bed and waited until morning, locked in a staring contest with the cat's glowing green eyes.
In a motel room in Dallas, Rose came out of the bathroom, freshly scrubbed and walked over to the bed nearest her. She tapped the solid wood headboard attached to the wall and looked over at Dean. "So, what're you gonna do about this," she said to him. "No railing to handcuff me to."
Dean just looked at her and reached down to pull the mattress away from the wall. She looked down. "Bedframe," she said. "Fine then," she plopped down onto the bed and looked up at him. He walked over to her holding the handcuffs and took her left arm this time. Seeing the surprised look on her face, he said, "I thought your right arm might be getting tired."
"Yeah, whatever," she said as she curled up at the head of the bed, her left arm draped over the side. She was too sleepy to care.
Dean waited for her to drift to sleep, listening closely to the sound of her breathing. Convinced she was asleep, he went over and looked down at her right hand. "Whatever's going on, Sammy, it's got something to do with this ring. I know I've seen it before!"
"Dean, Bobby's search came up with nothing," Sam said walking over to join his brother standing over the sleeping Rose. "And we've searched Dad's journal. There's no mention of a ring in there."
"I know it doesn't make sense," Dean said to him. "But I'm telling ya, there's something about that ring. I need to know why demons are after it. I just need to get a better look at it." He reached down and reached for her hand.
"You're just gonna take it off her hand, then?" Sam asked. "What if she wakes up?"
"Not likely," Dean said. "I put sleeping pills in her beer at dinner."
"You put sleeping pills in alcohol? Dean!" Sam was clearly upset, but more because his brother hadn't let him in on what he was doing.
"Yeah, so?" Dean answered. "It's no different than those hot toddies Dad used to give you to get you to go to sleep. She'll be out for a while." He held Rose's hand in his and pulled the ring off her thumb. Looking at it closely, he walked over to the desk and pulled an ink stamp out of the drawer that he had placed there earlier and a piece of notebook paper. He carefully rolled the ring on the stamp pad and then rolled it on the paper. Both brothers leaned in over the impression. "It does look like some kind of hieroglyphic writing," Dean said. "Do you think you can translate it?"
"I dunno, Dean. It's not Egyptian, I can tell that. Maybe…" Sam was interrupted by a voice coming from the bed.
"Ancient Druid," Rose was sitting up on the bed, watching them. Her eyes were a deeper blue than normal. "Long forgotten, even in the Gaelic languages of today." She arched her back, stretching provocatively, like a cat in heat. "I have to thank you boys. She never would have taken that ring off on her own."
Dean and Sam looked at each other. "I thought you said she'd be out for a while," Sam asked his brother.
"She should be," Dean answered, rising slowly and edging towards his bag. "But that isn't Rose."
"Very observant," she cooed at him as black ooze seemed to pour into her eyes. "I'd stop right there, if I were you." She yanked her arm up, snapping the handcuffs and pulling the fur off them at the same time. "Arrrgghh!" she cried out, grabbing the cuff from her wrist and snapping it in two to pull it off her arm. There was a burn mark where the hard metal had singed her wrist. Sam and Dean both saw a similar burn on her right pinky finger where the other ring had been. She had quietly pulled it and the two pendants off before alerting them to her presence. "Why the hell does she have to have so much silver?" the demon possessing Rose's body shrieked. Hissing at them, she jumped from the bed and burst out of the room, breaking the door off its hinges.
Dean reached into his bag, pulling out his gun and checking the clip for silver bullets. Snapping the clip back into the chamber, he started for the door.
"Dean, wait!" Sam said to him. "You can't… you can't just kill her." His face contorted in pain and confusion. As far as Sam was concerned, Rose was the key to saving his brother and he wanted to protect her at all costs, even if it meant from Dean himself.
"Sam, that's not Rose." Dean replied. "Besides, you saw how she reacted to the silver jewelry Rose wore. I may not have to kill her. I may just have to wound her."
Sam grabbed his own gun and followed Dean out the door. They searched for some trace of where she went as a flood of long-forgotten memories came rushing into Dean's mind. "At least now I know where I've seen that ring before," he said.