chapter 8

tw: severe self-harm in this chapter / severe spanking in next chapter

"She what?" John questioned, in a voice close to a silent yell. Dean rubbed the back of his neck, but suddenly felt himself forcefully pushed against the wall of the small hallway. " I asked you a question boy, I expect an answer," John growled out.

Dean unintentionally felt himself flinch at his father's words. "I uh—"

"You what Dean! What the hell happened to your sister?" John's tone began to rise to a different higher level.

"I promise that I'll explain, dad, but right now, we need to find Rosie." Dean pleaded and John grunted in somewhat approval.

"Fine. However," He pointed a finger into Dean's chest, "you will tell me as soon as we get on the road. Understand me, boy?"

"Yes sir," Dean answered quickly, trying to scooch carefully away from John.

"Grab your things and let's go," John ordered, walking back to the kitchen and grabbing the bag from the table that he had set down only minutes beforehand. "Do you have any idea where she went?"

Dean shook his head, "No dad, I have no idea, but it has only been a few minutes so she couldn't have gotten too far."

John nodded and opened the door. "Leave a note for Sammy. I'll be in the Impala waiting. Gimme the keys."

"Yes sir," He responded respectfully, throwing his father the keys then tearing a piece of paper from one of the extra notebooks on the table and writing a short note for Sammy. Dean sighed and rested a hand on his head. What were you thinking kiddo? He thought to himself in somewhat despair, knowing that unfortunately she had made everything significantly worse.

"DEAN!" John called from the car, "Get your ass out here!" Dean grabbed his gun and phone and began to type a text to Sam as he walked out to meet his father in the car.

Sammy, dad's back. Rosie ran away. Call as soon as you get this.

As soon as Dean stepped into the passenger seat of the Impala, (a seat that was not too familiar to him), John started the car and began to drive as the wheels squealed away behind them from the parking lot.

"Alright Dean, spill it." John more or less ordered, gripping the steering wheel tightly and looking determinedly out the window.

Dean sighed and glanced over at his father. "This week has been hell dad," The oldest Winchester son admitted. "Rosie…" His voice began to trail off. "She… she uh,"

"Dean." John began in a stern voice, "Tell me what happened right the fuck now, or I swear twenty-four or not, I'll reintroduce you to the business end of my belt. And I promise you don't want that." His tone was dripping with poison.

"Y-yes sir," He stuttered, because twenty-four or not, John Winchester was one scary man. Dean took a deep breath and summoned all the courage he had.

"It all happened the day of graduation. Rosie was really bummed you couldn't be there for her big day," He rubbed a hand awkwardly behind his neck.

"I was on a hunt," John replied simply, "She knows what our life's priorities are." Dean internally rolled his eyes. "I felt bad about missing her graduation, but people were dying Dean, I mean what did she expect me to do?"

"Well, she kinda … broke down." Dean tried to explain cryptically.

"What does that mean?" John questioned, glancing over at Dean.

"She … she stole some whiskey and, and drank a little too much, then she stole the Impala keys to try to find you." He replied quickly, intentionally leaving out some major details and Rosie's brash words against John. The patriarch of the family remained silent and emotionless.

"Continue." Once more his voice was cryptic.

"I was ready to bust her ass, when we found out something … private, that she should probably tell you about —"

"Tell me, Dean. Now." John ordered.

Dean sighed quietly to himself, "Rosie … Rosie has been hurting herself with the knife you gave her." He glanced over at John to gauge a reaction. When he saw no change in his father's face, Dean continued. "We found cuts all over her body. Sammy had to stitch a few of them up, but they were really bad dad." His voice was somber.

"How deep were they?" John asked, his voice now sounding a little worried.

"Deep, dad, and there are tons of 'em all over her chest and arms." Dean said quietly.

"How the hell did you not hear her cry out in pain when she was doing that? I mean, were you not protecting and looking out for them? I mean that's your JOB Dean!" John's voice was rising now, which made Dean want to omit the part about the painkillers.

"That's the next part dad," Dean continued.

"What does that mean?"

Dean decided that maybe it was just best to get it all out into the open. "She used the painkillers from the emergency med kit so that I couldn't hear her while she did … that … to her body…"

With that John's foot slammed on the brakes and both of their bodies jolted forward. Dean looked over nervously at his father.

"Dad?" Dean's voice was soft. "I—I took care of it, I handled it how you —" John held up his hand, indicating silence and Dean promptly fell silent. Not another word was spoken, as John's foot began to slowly press against the accelerator once again. Dean and John rode in absolute silence looking out the windows for the youngest Winchester. Suddenly Purple Haze began to play on Dean's phone and the contact card read: Sammy. Dean carefully flicked open his phone to hear the very worried voice of his brother on the other line.

"Dean? What's going on? Where is Rose Mary?" He asked hurriedly.

"I don't know Sammy. Dad and I took the Impala to go and look for her, but maybe look around the hotel. I can't imagine she could have gone too far." Dean responded, "My guess is that she's trying to hide somewhere around the building waiting for a better chance to bolt."

"Alright," Sam said, his chest rising and falling anxiously, "I'll be on the lookout and head out on foot."

"Okay Sammy," Dean answered and c,owed the phone, ending the call. "We'll find her dad, we will." He tried to make conversation again with his father. John, however, only remained silent, pushing pedal to the metal.

Meanwhile

Rosie froze once she heard the voice of her father echo through the motel room. Shit! She thought. This is worse than facing Sammy! Her heart started to race a thousand miles a minute as the thought of hearing his voice, much less seeing her father standing in the doorway was terrifying.

Rosie turned her head to the left and then to the right after Dean went into the kitchen to meet John.

I have to run. She thought. I HAVE TO RUN!

The voice repeated loudly. Suddenly, before she even realized what she was doing, Rosie was quietly prying open the bathroom window and shimming her body out the pane. She quickly grabbed something from the shower before she left. Rose Mary's feet began to carry her until she found the dumpster out back and opened the lid, squeezing between the garbage bags. The young girl knew that she could never out run the Impala, so she decided to hide. Suddenly, she heard the glass of the window slam against the wooden frame and sweat started to drip down from her forehead. Rosie's hands began to shake and everything inside her mind was screaming as her breaths became ragged.

Shit, shit, shit, shit! She heard her father's voice all but scream at Dean. I'm sorry bubba. She said as a tear dripped down her cheek. The smell of the dumpster almost made her vomit as even though there weren't too many garbage bags, the few that were there were almost overwhelming.

After a moment, Rosie grabbed a little razor she had stolen from the shower, right before she jumped out the window pane.

Fuck.

She whispered to herself in despair. Emotion overtook her as she made long, deep slices across her wrist in panic. Tears overflowed from her eyes as she tried to squeeze them shut, hoping that she could stop crying. Rosie took a piece of cloth in the garbage and wrapped it around her wrist, still sniffling that she had relapsed into self harm.

Rosie's thoughts suddenly began to spiral. You have everything you could want: brothers, a father, a family — and yet you feel as if you have nothing. — pathetic. You'll simply never be enough for any of them, that's why they are disappointed and frustrated with you — because you are not good enough and you NEVER will be. Her mind was screaming at her and it was impossible to silence. You disobeyed, drank, tried to run, stole, challenged your family time and time again, why would you deserve anything less than to hurt. Tears overtook her and she sobs racked her young body. You deserve to hurt.

Finally, Rosie was able to catch her breath. Blood oozed out from her wrist as she applied pressure onto it, hoping the bleeding would stop as Rosie started to felt faint. She waited and waited and waited, until the bleeding died down and she heard footsteps walk around the corner to her hiding spot.

Please, She thought. Don't find me.

She heard Sam's voice mumble to himself as his feet seemed to halt right in front of the dumpster. Rose held her breath, quietly putting a bag above her head in hopes that Sam may not see her.

"Come on Rosie," Sam's voice rang out through the thin metal walls of the dumpster.

"Sammy please," Rosie's voice was pleading after a moment.

Sighing, Sam took a seat on the pavement, sitting up against the dumpster. "I know you're scared Rosie, but hiding isn't going to do any good." He reasoned, "You made it worse by running away, kiddo."

Rosie, always amazed by Sam's unflinching patience, shifted around in the trash. "I'm so scared Sammy," She finally admitted, "First Dean was pissed at me, then you and now dad. I just don't know if I can afford anymore disappointment from anyone in our family."

"You're not a disappointment Rosie," His tone was resolute, "You really and I mean really screwed up, but you're still family. You're still my sister." Sam sighed once more. "I know I was angry and I shouldn't have yelled at you Rose Mary," His voice was now soft as he spoke, still facing the opposite direction from his sister, who was still inside the dumpster. "I just couldn't believe that you would run to something so material after all we talked about, all you learned, all the trust we were building back in you. It just … it just really disappointed me Petal. Once more," He amended, "You're not a disappointment, but your actions are."

Rosie wiped a tear and slowly began to rise to her feet, squeezing her wrist once more to make sure the bleeding had died down, but remaining with the lid closed on top of her head. "Do you … do you still love me Sammy," She asked shakily. Just then, the lid was opened and Sam appeared in front of her with a sad smile.

"How could you ever ask that Rose?" A pregnant pause filled the empty space, "Of course I love you Petal. No amount of screw ups would ever make me not love you."

Rosie reached out and hugged his waist as she still stood inside the green bin. "Thank you Sammy," She whispered into his chest.

"Always Rose." He smiled into the top of her head. "But you do smell," Sam joked, ruffling her hair gently, "Let's get you inside, okay?"

"Yes Sammy," She responded quietly, nodding as Sam helped lift her up from under her armpits, till finally she was out of the trash can, mud and dirt lining her features. As Sam was lifting her out, her long sleeve shirt rose revealing the make-shift bandage, stained with red plasma.

"Rosie," Sam whispered after a moment, when she was finally on her feet, "May I please see your wrist?" It was phrased as a kind question, but Rosie knew it was an order.

"Sam," She said, even quieter than him, "Please Sammy, don't make me show you." The next thing she knew, Sam's arms were enveloping her in a hug.

"Oh Petal," He sighed sadly into the top of her head. Rosie let her tears flow freely as she held onto her brother for dear life. "It's okay to cry Rose, just let it out kiddo." Water began to stain Sam's shirt, until after a few moments, she pulled away from him.

"Sammy," She sniffled, "I did it again." Her tone was riddled with despair as she confessed her actions. Sam ran a hand slowly through her hair, sending a sad smile in her direction.

"It's okay Petal," He replied lovingly, "You don't have to try and be perfect right away, or you will fail. You just have to try to be better than you were yesterday."

"I am not better than I was yesterday, I'm worse," Came the remorseful reply.

"No Rosie, right now, you are choosing to try to be better than yesterday. That's really all someone can try to do while healing Petal." Once more, Rosie collapsed into his embrace. Sam let her attach herself to him, and after a second pulled her away.

"The most important thing you can do is remember that you are Rosie Winchester — the only one in the world." She smiled at his words, "And when things get difficult, remember that Rosie Winchester is strong, smart and most importantly, loved." Sam kissed her forehead and grabbed onto her hand.

"Let's head in, Rosie. Dean is scared out of his mind looking for you and I'm sure dad is too. I am going to need to dress those wounds too." He said, rubbing a hand on her back as Sam slowly escorted her back into the motel room, unsure if she would try and bolt again. Once again, Rosie nodded and let herself be herded into the small room. "I gotta call Dean. Promise me you won't run off again?" Sam held out his pinky as if to indicate a pinky promise. Rosie smiled softly and interlocked her pinky into his own.

"Pinky promise, Sammy."

"Pinky promise." He grinned, but then a flip switched in his mind, "Rosie, just know that you and I are still gonna have a talk about the drinking." She saw her swallow in anticipation. "Don't worry about it right now, but also don't forget, okay?" His voice was not stern, but harsh in a tough love tone.

"Y-yes sir," The young girl replied, voice full of anxiety. Rosie wanted to run away again, but was so thankful for Sam, she couldn't find it in her to try and leave again.

"I'm also gonna need to check your, uh, your wrists, okay?" His voice became softer as Rosie nodded. Sam left the room and locked the door behind him, making Rosie frown in realization that he really did not trust her not to leave at the moment. The youngest Winchester sighed and decided that it was best to comply and try to not put herself in any more hot water. Determining to finally act like "the adult fucking Winchester," she had told Dean she was earlier, Rosie grabbed a chair, walked over to the corner and sat there with her nose planted in the corner.

Meanwhile, outside, Sam punched the number 'one' on his phone, which was a speed dial for Dean.

"Find her?" Dean asked almost immediately.

"Yeah, yeah Dean I found her. She's inside right now." He replied.

"Hang tight, we're on our way." Dean's answer was short as he hung up the phone.

In the car, John was still tense as he gripped the steering wheel perhaps harder than necessary. Finally, John spoke.

"When we get back, I wanna handle everything Dean." The sentence was simple, but the request was large.

"Dad —"

"No. Listen to me Dean. I mean it, I'm going to handle this." John was resolute.

"I'm not gonna let you hurt her dad." Dean said matter-of-factly.

John looked over at him with steel in his eyes. "Dean," He growled, "I said, I'm going to handle this one."

"But dad, I already spanked her! More than once!" He tried to protect her, "She's learned her lesson, I promise!" Dean was planning on tanning her one last time for trying to drive while intoxicated, but was not planning on telling his father that yet.

"I don't care." The family's father responded, "When we get home, you and Sammy are gonna leave and let me handle this."

Dean summoned all the courage he had left in his body to say one simple word, "No."

John once more pulled the car off onto the shoulder. "What did you just say to me boy?" His voice was like ice in the middle of winter.

Dean anxiously swallowed the lump in his throat. "I—I said no dad. My job is to protect them and if you plan on hurting them, it's my job to look out for them."

Silence filled the car as John looked up to the ceiling. "I'm not gonna beat her, Dean." He finally concluded. "I wanna handle it because we need to talk dad to daughter before we get to the ass beating. And I want and will do both of those things alone." Dean nodded and looked over at his dad. "I'm not gonna hurt her Dean, anymore than you have."

"Yes sir." He responded respectfully, now looking out the window. "We're almost there, can Sam and I stay for the first part? I need to talk to her really quickly too." John grunted in approval as he pulled into the parking spot next to his truck.

"You've got ten minutes till I come on in and you both high tail it out of there." He motioned with his hand, pulling the keys out of the ignition. Dean froze momentarily, as he unbuckled his seat belt. "Get going Dean."

"Y—yes sir," Dean stumbled over his words again, opening the door and stepping out onto the now rain covered pavement as some water still drizzled out from the heavy storm clouds. Dean sighed, not used to being the anxious one of the family, as he was not looking forward to this conversation with his sister. Dean steeled himself and opened the motel door.

Upon entering, Dean saw that the bathroom door was closed and there was a chair facing the corner of the room. Dean exhaled and pulled a chair out from the table.

"Sam send you to the corner?" Dean's voice was changing from anxious to disciplinarian.

"No sir," Rosie nodded her head, still facing the corner. "I just came in and sat here, figured that's probably where you'd want me to be anyway. I think Sammy is grabbing something from the bathroom," She said, omitting the fact that he was preparing the first aid kit to repair her wrists as the cuts were deeper than normal.

Dean smiled to himself. At least she knows she's in trouble. He thought. "Come 'ere Rosie." Dean ordered more or less, kicking a chair out so that it sat across from his own. Shakily the young girl pushed the chair back, stood to her feet and sat down in the chair across from her brother.

"Dean, I'm really sorry." She apologized immediately, looking down at her hands in embarrassment.

"You should be, kid." He said with darkness in his voice, "Why the ever loving fuck would you try to run away with how much hot water you're already in? Huh?" He asked when she did not respond right away. "Just trying to be a dumbass?" Dean knew his tone was had, but he wanted to make sure that Rosie knew how much trouble she was in with him, dad and Sam.

"I—I was so nervous Dean, and…and I just panicked! I didn't think that —"

"That's right," Dean interpreted, "One again, you weren't thinking about the consequences to your actions!" He paused and rubbed his temples with his hand. "What did I say I would do for you Rosie when dad comes home?"

She looked up at him confused, "What?"

"What did I say I'd do when dad comes home?" Dean repeated.

"Tell him about the pain pills?" The young girl guessed.

Dean rolled his eyes, and put a comforting hand on his sister's knee. "I told you that I would protect you from dad. I said that no matter what, dad would never harm you with anything more than a spanking."

Rosie blushed at the word as her eyes found her hands. "Oh," She replied embarrassed.

"Rosie, I still will always protect you, but dad is still gonna have to talk to you about everything. I made him swear to me that nothing more than what's deserved will happen." Rosie's eyes widened in fear.

"We'll — we'll be alone? Why won't you be there?!" Her voice started to rise.

"Hey!" Dean corrected sternly, "I'm not the one you should be yelling at Rosie," Once more the young girl looked away from her brother, with tears brimming her eyes.

"I just thought… I just thought that you'd stop him." Her voice was almost silent. "We had that big talk about how I felt like you, we're kinda like … my dad and — and it just feels weird to have dad sp—" She paused at the word, "punish me."

Dean smiled sadly, "I understand Rosie, and I told you that I feel the same way, but because you ran away, he found out in the worst way possible. And just because we both feel that way, he is still our dad, and has the right to be our dad as much as I wish I could just handle it."

"O…okay," Rosie sniffled and wiped her nose with her shirt sleeve. However, as she was doing so, her long sleeve rode up and revealed a fresh bright red line on her forearm.

Dean's eyes widened and Rosie knew she had messed up, "Rosie…" His tone of voice immediately shifted down. He didn't wait for a reply before grabbing her arm and pulling her close to his body, not too roughly in case there was more than originally met the eye.

"No, Dean, stop!" She tried to pull away with tears now freely falling down her face. "Please, I was gonna show you later…" She looked up at her brother and saw nothing but sadness in his eyes.

"Again?" He said with despair dripping from his voice. "Rosie," As he said her name, Rose could swear that she almost saw his eyes brimming with tears.

"I'm sorry bubba," She said, almost whispering. "It's not that I didn't wanna come to you and talk, I just panicked and … and … and," Rosie's lip was quivering as a tear fell from her eye.

"It's okay Rosie," Dean said softly, standing to his feet and gently wrapped both arms around her in a hug that Rosie could only describe as healing. "It's okay kiddo," He kept repeating in her ear. Her tears began to wet her brother's shirt, as he rubbed circles on her back. "Just breathe for me Petal," Dean whispered, using Sam's nickname for their sister.

Rosie began to calm down and Dean moved away from her, once more grabbing her wrist in examination. "How bad is it Rose?"

The young girl sniffled and pulled up her sleeve, "It's pretty bad this time Dean, m…maybe the worst." She admitted. Dean's eyes slightly widened at her words, knowing that some of her scars were already pretty deep and to imagine anything worse wasn't good.

Just then, Sam made his way out of the bathroom and smiled sadly in Dean's direction, nodding his hand in understanding.

"Got the kit, Sammy?" Dean asked and Sam nodded her head.

"I got it," Sam walked over to the chair that Rosie had pushed into the corner, and pulled it over to her side, across from Dean. Then, Sam looked down at his sister empathetically. "May I please see your arm Rosie?" The young girl nodded and rolled her sleeve up further, taking off the make shift bandage. Sam and Dean's eyes widened in shock as they tried to keep their composure.

"Petal…" Sam said through a heavy breath in horror. Dean stood to his feet and grabbed the bottle of whiskey from on top of the fridge knowing that this was gonna be a hard and painful injury to fix.

"Rosie, this isn't gonna be easy. It's really gonna hurt and you're gonna need to be strong for me. Can you do that kiddo?" Dean tried to encourage, praying that she would be able to make it through this.

Knowing the inflection of his voice, Rosie's heart began to beat faster. "H…how bad is — is it gonna be bubba?" She questioned with fast, rapid, and erratic breaths.

Sam put a comforting hand on her shoulder and looked at her with his big forest colored eyes. "It's not gonna be too easy Petal, but I'll be gentle I promise."

Dean looked at Rosie first then Sam seriously, "Should we give her one?" He said quietly. Sam looked away, then back at Dean shrugging.

"I don't know Dean." He responded honestly.

"What? Give me what?" She questioned, looking back and forth between her older brothers. Dean looked down at her and then bent down so their noses were almost touching.

"A pain pill." The answer was simple. "Just one." He said, emphasizing the word one and holding up one finger.

Her eyes widened ten fold. "Really? You trust me to take one of those again?"

Dean sighed, "Honestly Rosie, I have no idea if I trust you or not." She looked down embarrassed. "But, I do know that this is gonna hurt like hell and I don't think that even Sam and I would be able to get these stitched up without having something extra to help us."

Rosie nodded slowly, terrified of her brother's words. "I … I guess that I should then…" She paused and looked at her brothers, "Right?"

Dean put a hand under her chin and lifted her head so that their eyes were interlocked. "If we do, this is the last time Rosie. Do not think for one second that hurting yourself is a way to get a hold of more painkillers. In fact, if you do choose to harm yourself again, pain pills will not be offered to you. Do you understand me, Rose Mary Winchester?" Rosie swallowed anxiously and nodded her head.

"Gonna need a verbal answer Rosie." Dean stated, his voice stern.

"Yes sir," She whispered to her oldest brother.

Sam opened the first aid kit and took out the small yellow bottle that Rosie had so many times abused. Looking away a tear fell from her eye as she held out her hand for the familiar feeling of the small off white medication. Sam placed it into her palm and held out a water bottle that had been sitting out on the table in front of her in his large hand.

"Last time Rosie," Sam repeated what Dean had said before.

"Last time," She repeated quietly to Sam.

Placing the pill in her mouth, time seemed to move in slow motion as she swallowed it. Sitting back into the chair, she closed her eyes and waited for the familiar feeling of placidity to take effect. However, knowing that normally she took two or four, she was fearful that one may not make too much of a difference. Opening her eyes and looking at her brother's concerned eyes, she shyly looked at Dean.

"Could I have a shot?" She smiled, praying and hoping he may cave. Dean's eyebrows raised in question.

"What?" He repeated deadly.

"It's just that normally I have two or three or even four and I'm scared that one just may not be enough," Rosie smiled, leaning back and laughing.

Sam tapped Dean's arm. "We better start working, they've already started to kick in. Guess she wasn't as much as a heavy weight as she thought." Dean nodded in understanding and gently but firmly held Rosie's arm straight for Sam to stitch.

These cuts would be the hardest to repair as they were jagged and deep. Sam sighed looking at the challenge in front of him. Before starting, he turned to Dean.

"I may need dad's help with this, Dean." He admitted. "It would be really good to have a second pair of eyes, so that when it heals it looks better than having huge scars right on her wrist. I know I can stitch them up fine, but dad is really good at preventing big scars. After all, he taught me."

Dean looked at him for a moment, then nodded in understanding. "Alright, if I go grab him will you be good for a couple minutes?"

"Yeah," Sam answered, looking over at Rosie who was now staring at the ceiling watching the fan blades spin overhead.

Once more Dean nodded and opened the motel door, walking over to his father in the Impala who was currently on the phone. The oldest Winchester child knocked on the driver's side glass gently and John turned his head to face his son, holding up a finger indicating one minute. Dean turned away putting his hands in his pockets and slowly pacing in front of his dad's door.

After a moment, John opened the door and stepped out on the damp pavement from the rain that was gently falling.

"What's up Dean? Is she ready to talk?" John asked, his voice unreadable.

"Dad, there was kinda a situation." Dean rubbed a hand behind his neck.

"What kind of situation," He turned his head to the side.

"She hurt herself again." The words hung in the air longer than was comfortable. Until John sighed, hanging his head.

"I need to talk to her Dean, now." John's voice resonated through the rain.

"You can, but she's out of it dad. These cuts were so deep there's no way that even us would have been able to handle it without help. Sammy and I gave her the last pain pill and she's just in there while Sam is working on stitching her up." Dean said, eyeing his father for a reaction. "Sam says he needs your help to fix one of 'em because of how jagged it is. Says you'll do a better job." He concluded.

John put his head into his hands. In truth, he needed sleep and about 5 whiskeys to dull the headache he was having.

"Let's get inside before it starts pouring." John finally said, not looking at his son. "Lock the car and come on in. We'll need help holding her still.

"Yes sir," Dean took the car keys that his father tossed in his direction and locked the car, following his father inside. As soon as John approached the front door, he took a deep breath and steeled himself for the tasks ahead.

"Ready dad?" Dean asked, looking over from behind him.

"Ready." And with that John opened the door to the motel.