Season 4, Episode 20-21

Kath's head was throbbing. She, Sam, and Dean were strewn about the abandoned warehouse where the demons held Claire Novak hostage. All three of the hunters were caught up tackling a demon each. Kath was dodging punches from an older-looking man who was possessed. Something about having a demon in you really must cancel out the arthritis. The demon sent a punch flying from the left, which Kath dodged no problem. She didn't have time to see the demon's other hand coming up from below. His fist connected with Kath's jaw with a crack. The impact sent her tumbling backwards. She managed to keep her footing, but not before she slammed into the wooden post behind her. Pain ricocheted through her body and her vision was spotty for a moment. Keeping her fists up in front of her face, Kath made a wobbly effort to continue fighting.

Through glassy eyes, Kath watched as the demon made moves towards her. He was a second away from snapping her neck when he was intercepted by a blur of blonde hair. Kath blinked and refocused her vision. Jimmy's twelve-year-old daughter was standing in front of the demon with her arm outstretched. Kath had no idea how she'd gotten out of the ropes that had previously held her bound to a chair. Claire reached her hand up and touched the demon on the forehead. Instantaneously, the demon's jaw went slack. Bright white light shot out in rays out of its eyes and mouth. Claire had killed a demon.

A sharp pain brought Kath back to the reality of the situation. She felt around the back of her head with her fingers. They came back covered in blood. Great. Kath slowly looked around the room. Claire hadn't just saved Kath's life. She had killed all the demons in the room. All but one. Kath glanced across the room at Dean and Castiel - Jimmy. They were looking past her at something, someone. Dean's mouth was agape, and his eyes reflected a look of deep disappointment. Kath's head tilted to the side in confusion and she turned to see what was behind her.

Sam's body was bent over the demon, his head buried in the crook of her neck. He was drinking her blood like a vampire. Kath could only look on with a horrified expression. Sam picked himself up off the demon and turned around with dazed eyes. When he saw the look on Kath and Dean's face, his own stature shrunk. He looked like a kid who got caught stealing his parents alcohol, not a demon blood junkie who just drunk right from the source. Blood was smeared around his mouth like some sort of messed up goatee. If Kath wasn't in complete and utter shock, she would have laughed at Sam for looking so stupid.

Sam killed the demon underneath him with a stab to the chest. He rose to his feet and turned to Dean once more. With a raised hand and open palm, he started to channel his powers in his brother's direction. Kath felt her heart jolt as she watched Dean flinch. But Sam was never aiming at him. Jimmy's wife, Amelia, was pulled against her will towards Sam. With the ease that comes with breathing, Sam killed the demon that possessed her.

Kath was still fairly uneasy on her legs. The blow to her head was not a light one. She swayed back and forth while Claire side-stepped past her recovering mother, paying her no mind at all. The corner's of Kath's mouth turned down. As she watched Claire walk over to an injured Jimmy, it clicked. Claire was a vessel. Castiel had entered this young girl's body, taken her over and drove her like a car. Castiel honoured Jimmy's dying wish and rejoined with his original vessel. Claire's hands slammed into the ground once she was released. Kath brought a hand to her now aching chest. She felt as though she was peering into a mirror, watching her childhood unfold before her. Claire would never forget this day, never forget that feeling. Castiel stood abruptly and walked out of the warehouse, leaving everyone else in pieces to clean up his mess.

The drive back to Bobby's was unbearable. Kath was stiff with tension, and she could see the silence having a similar effect on Sam. Dean's knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel, barreling down the highway far past the speed limit. Eventually, Sam spoke up. He asked, or rather he begged for Dean to have some sort of reaction. To scream at him, chew him out, to pull the car over and throw a few punches. Dean maintained his nonchalant demeanor. He gave short responses and focused on the road. Guilt was beginning to eat Kath from the inside out. At the bottom of her heart she knew that she and Dean just wanted to help Sam. He was completely out of control. And it wasn't his fault of course, Kath believed that. He just needed help.

Sam's phone ringing cut him off mid sentence. When he answered, Kath could hear Bobby's voice on the other end of the line. The guilt that stabbed Kath in the heart in that moment was enough to force her to close her eyes. She dragged a hand over her face and when she looked up again she caught Dean's eye in the rearview mirror. They shared a knowing look.

Once they arrived at Bobby's, Kath almost couldn't bring herself to go down to the basement with the rest of the men. She racked her brain trying to find some excuse that would keep her from what they were about to do. Bobby led the group towards his panic room. He claimed that there was another demon problem that needed solving, and he had something to show them on the other side of the iron door. Sam stepped inside the room first, completely oblivious to the stone faces of his friends. Kath stood back as Bobby and Dean shut and locked the door. Through the bars of the small window, Sam looked Kath dead in the face. The look on his face made her chest seize once again, and she found herself bringing a clawing hand to it. Sam didn't look angry, he didn't even look all that surprised. All Kath saw in those green eyes of his was disappointment.

"This isn't funny guys!" Sam shouted from behind the door, along with a string of other profanities. Bobby had done his part and made his way back upstairs to forget the whole affair. If Kath had any self-preservation she would have followed him. But for whatever reason, hearing Sam's shouts and pleads to be released froze her where she stood.

"I get it now," Dean said calmly. "You couldn't help it." There was an obvious tone of sarcasm in his voice. Kath frowned. She was under the impression that everyone was on the same page: help Sam manage his addiction. It was an illness. But it sure sounded like Dean did not believe that.

"I'm not some junkie!" Sam bit back.

"You're not exactly in a place of soberness either," Kath said, folding her arms over her chest. Dean had opened the window so that they had a better look at Sam.

"Kath, I'm not drinking demon blood for kicks," Sam said. He paced back and forth in the small room, hands in his hair. "I'm getting strong enough to kill Lilith!"

"That's about as far from strong as you can get," Dean scoffed. Kath nodded in agreement. Both of them were standing in front of the door, with stone expressions and crossed arms. They were a pair. A united front. "Try weak. Try desperate. Pathetic."

Kath's head snapped to the side. She looked at Dean bewildered. That was not part of their deal. They were supposed to be trying to help Sam, not belittle him. Kath of all people knew how good it felt to tear Sam down, but there was a time and place. She tried to shake her head at Dean to get his attention, but he was not budging. He dismissed Sam again and again and and when he got fed up he shut the window window.

"C'mon," he said to Kath, gently taking her arm. Kath paused momentarily, but eventually let Dean lead her back upstairs.

The day and a half that followed were draining to say the least. Sam's shouts of protest quickly became scream for help. The detox was making him see things, feel things. And it did not help that Bobby's vent system carried Sam's cries all the way to Kath's bedroom. She tossed and turned all night but still barely slept. And when she did, she dreamed of him; angry and unfeeling. Kath eventually gave up on the hope of getting a full nights sleep. She cracked her knuckles and pulled herself out of bed. Be it exhausted or sheer curiosity, she tip-toed out of her room. Dean was sound asleep on Bobby's couch, and she could hear Bobby's snores through the closed bedroom door. She crept down the stairs into the basement.

The window door was open. After Sam had started bouncing off walls, literally, they decided to handcuff him to the bed and keep the window open for observation. She peered in and saw Sam's figure in the dark. He was seemingly asleep, which was a good thing. But the more closely Kath listened, the more she realized Sam was never going to rest. It was almost too quiet to hear, but Sam was crying. Kath was pretty sure that he was in some sort of dream-induced trance, but his body shook occasionally and she could hear incoherent mumbles accompanied with shaking breaths.

Against her better judgement, Kath unlocked the panic room door. She knew Dean and Bobby would probably have her head for this, but it was like her body didn't care. It developed a mind of her own, and she watched from a distance as her hand turned the lock and her feet carried her inside. She didn't know how, but she knew that whatever was ailing Sam couldn't hurt her.

Kath cautiously crept over to where Sam lay. He was sweating something fierce and talking in his sleep about things that made no sense to her. Overcome with emotion, Kath sunk to her knees beside the bed. In the back of her mind, a faded memory from long, long ago pressed for her attention. She was four years old and was having pretty chronic nightmares about falling from terrible heights. If only she knew then what she knew now. But without fail, every time little Kath woke up screaming, her mother was there at the side of her bed, running soothing fingers through Kath's hair and humming a familiar tune. To this day Kath still doesn't know what song it was.

Kath propped an elbow on the edge of the bed and settled closer to Sam's shaking body. He was turned away from her and she still had no idea if he was conscious. The memory of her mother and those dreams took over, and Kath placed a gentle hand on Sam's head. She started with brushing the hair off his forehead and out fo his closed eyes. She continued to stroke it back, using her fingernails to scratch his scalp the way her mother used to. Kath heard her own voice begin to hum. She never truly knew what note was coming after the other, she sort of just let the spirit of her mother carry it out. She stayed like this for a little while. Sam never stirred, and never stopped muttering worriedly in his sleep. But his body relaxed ever so slightly under her touch, and the shaking had ceased. Suddenly, Sam's head jerked, and he looked back at Kath with sullen eyes. She offered him a sad smile and he lay his head down once more.

When morning starts to rise and the two would see one another in the light again, neither would ever mention the previous night. Kath would never tell Sam the compassion she felt during those long hours. Sam would never tell Kath the relief he felt when he heard her comforting tune, or felt the soft touch of her hand. The interaction will go unspoken for years. Because it was unlike them. And uncertainty would sooner destroy them before any monster. 

a/n: Surprise, Kath is not entirely human. No questions will be taken at this time.