Disclaimer: As per previous chapters.
A/N: Set during Season 2, after 'What is and What Should Never Be' but before 'All Hell Breaks Loose'.
Her stereo is cranked up as High as it can go, and she's singing along with the music. The only radio station she can get is this small country/rock station – and this is the third time this song's been on- but she sings loudly and enthusiastically.
The song distracts her for a while, from the nagging tug at the corner of her mind that she's not safe. She's glimpsed the thing after her a few times, out of the corner of her eye. She has no idea what it is, but she knows it's dangerous.
She thinks that's she's in Nebraska, in America, but she can't be sure, borders of states get blurred when you just drive with no aim in mind. All she wants is to drive until she loses the thing after her. That's why she's in the middle of the freakin desert, she doesn't want the thing to decide to attack or munch on someone else.
She thinks it's a Kigatilik. Well, correctly Google seems to think that's what it is.
She just thinks this thing is vicious.
It's been about a day and a half since she last ate when she notices a small Roadhouse: she's starving, thirsty and tired when she decided to enter, and it has to be said, in need of a break. The thing trailing her seems to slow down as she parks between two other cars. The Roadhouse must have at least Seven other people inside, if the cars had only one occupant.
She walks into the Roadhouse, and quickly glances around. There are about ten or so people inside, not counting the two women at the bar, all physically fit and all male.
They glance at her, and seem to size her up, when they decide she's not really a threat they turn back to whatever they were doing, but still she can see their suspicion.
She takes at seat at the bar and streached out like a cat, making her bones snap back into place. The man beside her winces.
"Is there anything I can get you?" The brunette woman behind the bar asks her, with concealed suspicion in her voice. She smiles and responds cheerfully "Whiskey please."
The Bartender takes in her disheveled clothes, bloodshot eyes and hastily thrown-up ponytail. The Bartender pauses and looks like she would do anything else then give her a drink.
"Honestly, I'm not a Highschooler skipping out on Fourth period." She scowls, before sighing. She knows she looks young, not more than 19 at a stretch. Yet she is now 21, so shouldn't she be able to drink?
"I can show you I.D" Looking hopefully, before spotting the bottle labeled 'whiskey' and cringing at its state. "Never mind."
She looks up optimistically as a grumble startles her "Got any sandwiches around here?"
The woman returns with a toasted cheese sandwich –which smells absolutely divine and a curious face. This woman seems like a lioness- protective with a deep maternal instinct.
"Are you in some kinda trouble?"
She ruefully shakes her head, "Nothing you can help me with-."
"Ellen."
She didn't mean it in a way that she wanted the bartender's name, still she smiles in return.
"I'm Rose."
"So Rose, how did you get here?" She stares dumbly at Ellen for a moment "I assume that is an English accent, right?"
She frowns and looks confused for a moment, she didn't want this woman in danger, and she wasn't going to actually tell her- she is certain that the cops can get here quickly enough.
"Life sucks." She finally agrees on, handing over a 50 dollar note, it is certainly enough to pay for the sandwich. With a smile she takes a large chunk out of the gooey cheese food and groans in pleasure.
"You sure sound hungry." Ellen comments, as she eyes the blonde in front of her. It makes her feel so insecure at the moment, and she squirms under the woman's gaze.
"Starved." Rose swallows before responding, the woman's eyes burn holes into her when she eats the last of the food. With wide innocent eyes, she looks up at Ellen.
"Can I have a glass of water and another sandwich?" She asks somewhat timidly "And easy up on the salt please."
Ellen nods before calling over the blonde girl which has been flitting around tables, her name is Jo, and with one glance, Ellen silences any protests she might have.
"So, why exactly does life suck?" Ellen smiles as if it will calm her nerves. Ellen does seem nice, she's kind, but has a rough edge that seems to her as if Ellen had seen many things in her life. She was not to be underestimated.
"It just does." Rose shrugs, bewildered by the comment "Life," she starts bitterly "Is like the bloody Twilight Zone."
Ellen stares at her, and looks at the man sitting next to her, their eyes meet and they seem to be sending messages to each other.
"The Twilight Zone?" The man beside her says with fake-humor in his voice. "Dean Winchester."
He smiles and acts all charming, yet her focus is drawn to the bandaged hand he tried to hide under his coat, the red stain creeping through the white disturbs her.
"Rose Tyler." She smiles back politely. "Nice to meet you."
The man runs a hand through his short blondish-brown hair and had the expression of someone deciding on something; eventually he relents and asks her the question weighing on his mind.
"So, what did you mean?"
She hesitates, biting down on her lip softly.
"You know all those fairy-tales your parents used to tell you?" she smiles slightly as she remembers her mother's version of Cinderella, "I – Never mind."
The girl comes back with her water and sandwich, and she sips the water carefully, it tastes slightly salty, but she supposes that since she is in the middle of no-where she should be grateful that there is water at all.
They stare expectantly at her, as if waiting for her to blow up, giving them odd looks she pauses and looks confused.
"What?"
"Stories," the stranger next to her prompts after a short pause "Which ones?"
"The ones which your parents tell you that the monsters in your closet are false. The happily ever after ones. They're all lies."
His eyebrow quirks and she's certain he thinks she's a nut job. Human's tend to think that when they see her; and hear her speak. Yet she isn't fully certain he is human. He has an aura of danger and strength around him, which makes her tense up in expectation.
He's seen things.
Done things.
She is certain that he is a protector of sorts.
"Now, why would you think that?" he asks with a smile, showing that he is joking.
She pauses for a moment and looks at him from the corner of her eye.
"Because monsters like me."
Dean nods like he understands, yet she doesn't believe he truly does. He looks toughened. He's seen the ugly side of the world. As a rule she never takes Guesses as fact, but she is convinced enough to state that he is not to be under estimated.
"So, stories?"
She looks at him in confusion.
"Of your monsters." Now she knows that he isn't taking this seriously.
She blinks at him, before scowling.
"Now you're just laughing at me."
He smiles still as he apologizes, and tells her that he really does want to know about her 'monsters'. He looks vaguely interested when she begins.
"Well, I've seen Werewolves, Demons and Zombies." She deadpans, visibly counting on her fingers "I've seen a person turned into nothing but skin and lipstick, strange creatures with spikes and horns. I have a Kigatilik on my trail. And I'm haunted by the flippin' Bad Wolf."
She keeps her face impassive.
"If you dare laugh at me I'll-"
"I believe you."
The words surprise her, so it takes her a while to form a coherent sentence. She doesn't realize until she starts to speak, that she's been smiling brightly at Dean for about a minute.
"Really?"
She glances at him and then nods, "Thank you, you'ld be the first person."
"I'm guessing you're a Hunter then." He says, with a strange expression on his face. "How old are you?"
She narrows her eyes "I'm 21." She hesitates for a moment "What's a Hunter?"
He's quiet for a moment, which surprises her. He doesn't look like a quiet person.
"How'd ya kill 'em?"
"Kill what?" she asks in bewilderment, watching his guarded expression.
"The monsters."
She shakes her head, "I didn't kill them."
He looks appalled at her answer, but she continues hurridly, trying to explain.
"We got-rid of the werewolf. A girl." She inhaled "A wonderful, brilliant girl sacrificed herself to get rid of the things takin' over dead bodies. The skin and lipsticks name was Cassandra. She died, but she choose to die."
"What about the Demons," he asks stiffly "The monsters with horns and spikes.'" he emphases when she doesn't respond. She isn't positive but she can hear the slight note of panic in his voice.
"They're not all bad."
He looks at her with Horror, like she is some kind of horrible thing waiting to kill him.
"They're Demons. They're all evil!"
Dean's voice gets the attention of several other hunters in the vicinity, still he looks pissed at her.
"Some of those 'Evil' Demons saved my life!" she shouts back angrily "We had an incident where we had to vent extreme heat, a wood nymph held down the leaver which vented over 500 degrees into that room. She died saving others. You can't fix ash!"
He stares at her for a moment like he isn't sure what to say.
"Sometimes you gotta think before you shoot, Winchester."
Hunter. Hunter of-
"You have no idea what you're talking about; those things out there are dangerous. They're killers."
He stands up, absolutely furious. He towers over her, even when she stands.
"You Nephilim were supposed to protect. That was your job. Your duty. But what now? You're just going on and killing everythin'!'
Dean blinked, all anger gone.
"Nephilim?"
"Yeah. Ever wonder why becoming a Hunter isn't offered at the local Job search office. It's a family-blood thing."
Dean's tone turned icy.
"I don't believe in Angel's."
There is an uncomfortable pause, where Dean just stares at her, like he's trying to figure out her very soul. A small laugh breaks loose from her, which makes Dean's face both livid and confused.
"You believe in Hell, but not Heaven?"
"Never seen anything that proves Heaven exists."
They stare at each other for a moment longer, all hostility is gone, but the intensity remains.
"I'll be your proof."
"What?"
"I'll be your proof." She responds, reaching over and kissing his cheek.
"Stay Safe, Dean Winchester." She says seriously "Protect them. Take care of Sam."
He blinks; a shadow of protectiveness clouds his face.
"What? How do you know Sam-"
"I know many things. Good cannot exist without Evil." She smiles bitterly "you should remember that."
She moved somewhat sluggishly towards the door, only pausing for the briefest of seconds to call out to him somewhat playfully.
"Stop faking it!"
It isn't till later that day he removes the bandages.
And he finally understands.
He's all healed.
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