HELLHOUND - Supernatural

Eight.

In the morning, Sam was kneeling miserably in front of the toilet seat, his hair hanging in his face. Dean had came back into the room earlier, grinning at the sight of his brother's state.

"How you feeling, Sammy?" He loudly asked, earning a groan out of his brother. "I guess mixing whiskey and Jäger wasn't such a gangbuster idea, was it? I'll bet you don't remember a thing from last night, do you?"

Sam groaned again, "Ohh, I can still taste the tequila."

Dean smiled in relief and then looked at Saron, who continued to look out the window until she felt eyes on her, "I should have you as the guard dog more often." He made an attempt to joke.

"Your brother is very interesting and nosey when he's drunk."

"Tell me about it." Dean hummed, "You know, Sammy, there's a really good hangover remedy - it's a greasy pork sandwich served up in a dirty ashtray."

Sam complained again, heaving a bit, "Oh, I hate you!"

"I know you do." Dean smirked, Saron slightly grinned at his evilness, "Hey, turns out when Grandma Rose was a tyke, she had a Creole nanny who wore a hoodoo necklace."

"She taught Rose hoodoo?" Saron asked, leaning against the bathroom door opposite Dean.

"I think so, yeah."

"Alright." Sam grunted and stood up painfully, "I think it's time we talked to Rose, then."

Dean grimaced at first, pulling a face, "You can brush your teeth first." He replied, walking off and causing Sam to furrow his brows.

"And maybe shower. I can smell you from across the room." Saron innocently smiled, "And the windows are open too."

"Probably from that smoke." Sam pointed out tiredly, "Stuff's bad for the lungs, y'know."

"Drinking alcohol is bad for the liver, y'know." She mocked, her hands on her hips. Sam sighed in defeat, turning around back into the bathroom, "Have a nice shower, Samson!"

"You two have lots of fun last night?" Dean sarcastically asked from the table.

She hummed in amusement, sarcastically, "Yeah, we bonded really well whilst braiding each other's hair. Too bad you weren't there."

"Consider me jealous, puppy."

"As you should be."

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

Sam, Dean and Saron snuck back to the private room they were in yesterday, ensuring there was nobody inside before trying to unlock the door. Saron bent down a bit, taking a glove off and extending her claw. She unlocked the door and shoved it open as the two brothers kept watch.

Dean raised his brows, looking impressed, "How on earth did you do that so fast?"

Saron retracted her claws, smirking and pushing the door open further, "Breaking and entering since the 1930s." She proudly said, walking into the creepy room whilst putting her glove back on.

"1930s?" Dean wondered curiously.

"She was born in 1899." Sam told his brother, who looked confused at how he knew that.

'Shit. Did he remember last night's conversation?' Saron thought to herself, but didn't let it show on her face. She turned her head briefly, hintingly mentioning, "Year of the Hellhound."

They then entered the creepy doll room in silence, looking around for a second to check if no one else was inside. There was an open door in the back, the three looked at each other warily before going through to find a dimly lit staircase. Dean crept up the staircase first, Sam and then Saron behind until there was an ajar door to a room at the top. When they headed inside the room, Rose was seated in a wheelchair, facing a rainy window.