Chapter Text
Rose stood outside in the parking lot looking up at the neon sign gripping the straps of her backpack tightly. This was the place; she’d made it,.... albeit barely. “Harvelle’s Roadhouse” could possibly be her sanctuary, but its appearance looked anything but. It looked like an old oversized, tin roofed, wooden shack that had just been dropped in the middle of the desert, and it definitely did not look inviting. She knew there must be at least a few people who thought it safe enough to enter though as there were a few Harley’s outside the front, along with a a beat up old Chevvy, a couple of Mustangs and a shiny black Impala parked round the side. She breathed deeply as the cool night air began rolling in around her, she couldn’t stay out here all night or she might just end up getting eaten by coyotes or something worse. Rose squared her shoulders and marched towards the door. As she pushed it open the smell of beer and bourbon hit her in the face with all the subtlety of a baseball bat. The bar was rustic, and Kansas was playing on the old 80’s style juke box. The inside was all wood just like the outside and in the centre was a tiny square bar with mismatched bar stools surrounding it. The door closing quietly behind her might has well have been a shotgun going off for the reaction it caused. Everyone inside stopped dead at her entrance. She glanced around quickly taking a head count, two burley bikers were to the left playing darts, one still had his hand raised mid throw, there was a group of four guys huddled round a table, glasses still hovering mid sip, their heads all turned in her direction, a group of three sat two tables across doing the exact same. The older woman behind the bar who was the only one still moving as she stared, eyes narrowed at her whilst she continued polishing a glass. The only person in the whole place not looking at her was a guy sat on one of the bar stools to the far right who remained with his back resolutely to her, hunched over his glass of scotch.
She approached the bar wary of the silence, the bar maid spoke first
“Welcome to the Roadhouse, what can I get for you doll?” Unanimously everyone in the bar seemed to regain themselves and carried on about their business as if some silent signal had been given.
“I’ll have a beer please” she said her British accent sticking out like a mile. The bar maid cocked her head at her accent.
“You from England?” she questioned as she slid her a bottle of bud.
“Yes, I am, how much for the beer?” Rose asked
“It’s on the house darlin’, we don’t get many girls coming in here, let alone ones from across the pond, my establishment, God love it, is no tourist attraction, so what’s a nice girl like you doing all the way out here, alone” as polite as the question was Rose couldn’t help but feel it was weighted, especially since she had added the “alone” part.This was no time to get scared and run Rose thought to herself, this was exactly where she needed to be, everything had led up to her getting to this place and now she was here there was no going back. She stalled momentarily before answering, not wanting to cause suspicion by being too quick off the bat; she took a long sip of the beer as if to seem more natural.
“I’m actually here because I’m hoping you can help me out,” The woman cocked an eyebrow smirking obviously bemused as to how she could help her, Rose ploughed on bravely despite her expression “I’m looking for the Winchesters”
Once Rose had said it she noticed two things happen so quickly that if she’d have blinked, she was sure she’d have missed it. First the woman behind the bars jaw quickly clenched as her eyes darted to the guy sat to her right, at the same moment he stiffened squaring his shoulders. Both miniscule movements but she had seen them non the less. In a heartbeat the woman countered her
“Sorry doll ‘fraid I don’t know any Winchesters” she smiled sweetly at her. Rose slid her backpack off her shoulders and let it drop to the floor by her feet. She leaned forward placing both hands on the bar, more for support than anything else. She wasn’t confrontational by nature, at least she never used to be, but now was not the time to tread lightly.
“Listen,” Rose all but growled “I have come a hell of a long way and been through a hell of a lot of shit just to get here, and I am not leaving until I get some answers” the women behind the bar mirrored her actions so there faces were inches apart,
“What’s your name darlin’?” she asked, not unkindly.
“It’s Rose” she said through gritted teeth.
“Well Rose, I’m real sorry you had to come all the way out here, but as I said before, I don’t know any Winchesters” she said coolly. Rose took a step up onto the metal rung that ran round the bottom of the bar so she was eye level with the woman, at barley 5 ft she was hardly imposing. She was standing her ground
“See I’d be inclined to believe you if it wasn’t for the fact your jaw clenches every time you say their name and your eyes keep darting to the guy on my right, who hasn’t moved a muscle since I mentioned it, now I know you know something, and you’re going to tell me, or so help me God I’m going to do something I’ll really regret, because I am this close to snapping!” For a second Rose thought she’d won, the woman took a step back but she soon realised it was only so she could grab the shotgun from under the bar.
“Now you listen here little girl,” she snarled pointing the shotgun at her “Aint’ nobody gunna threaten me in my own bar, now I don’t know who told you to come here, or who gave you that name, but I will tell you this, it is sure as hell not something you want to get messed up in”
Rose took two tentative steps back her hands raised in front of her in surrender. That was it. Her last hope gone, and now she really was going to die, one way or another. Her bottom lip involuntarily trembled at the realisation and her eyes swam with tears that threatened to betray her bogus bravery. The woman’s eyes momentarily softened but the gun stayed in place, Rose noticed the bar was silent again. This time it was the guy on her right who was the only one to move. He stood up and pushed the bar stool back before turning to face her.
“Put the gun down Ellen, I got this” he said in a gravelly voice as his burning glare pinned her to the spot.
Rose tore her eyes away from Ellen as she slowly lowered the gun and really looked at her saviour for the first time. He was at least 6 foot, his broad shoulders clad in a well-worn leather jacket, his blue shirt unbuttoned at the top revealed an amulet worn on a leather cord around his thick neck. She saved his face for last. He had the tanned skin of a guy who spent a lot of time outside, and he was clean shaven with just a hint of stubble coming through. His jaw was strong and square but his mouth was soft and sweet looking, which was totally at odds with the intensity of his deepset eyes. His brows were knitted together in a serious expression and she wasn’t sure if he was about to yell at her too. She quickly scrunched her eyes shut willing the tears away and when she opened them his expression had changed from intense, to curious, his head cocked to one side.
“Alright nothing to see!” Ellen shouted at the rest of the bar as she put the gun back beneath the bar “The backs empty if you need it Hun” she whispered to the guy in front of her before she started wiping down the bar as if nothing had happened. The men’s room door to left opened and a tall guy with floppy hair strode towards them, rubbing his hands clean, concern was marring what she thought was his kind face.
“Everything ok Dean?” he asked definitely concerned, as he glanced from her to Dean and back again.
“In the back Sam, we’ve got some business to take care of” he replied gruffly as he bent down and picked up her back pack and swung it over his shoulder. He marched forward and grabbed her by upper arm his strong steel like hand almost wrapping all the way around her tiny arm. He was steering her towards the back room. He looked down at her small form shaking his head as he spoke
“Darlin’ you have just stepped onto the wrong side of the tracks”