is it too soon to do this yet? 
cause i know that it's delicate

delicate, taylor swift

chapter twenty

✦  ✦  ✦  ✦
━━━━━

CATHERINE DOESN'T bother trying to fall asleep. She doesn't think she'd be able even if she wanted to.

Instead, she lay there listening to Dean's heart. The steady thrum of it slowly stitching her back together. Over and over and over, a gentle reminder that he's alive. Alive, alive, and next to her. Not bleeding out on the ground of a forest. Not dying at her hand.

She closes her eyes and slowly breathes out, shoving down the thoughts as the air escapes from between her teeth. Not real.

She thinks she understands now, when Dean said he was drowning. Back then, she didn't, not really. But now...

In a way, she was, too. In his death. His blood.

Slowly, she peels herself from his arms and from the bed. Still wrapped in his grey jacket, she pads across the room and slips out the door.

Restless. That's how she feels– exhausted, yes, but restless.

She walks for a while, exploring the bunker. Not that there's much left for her to explore, she practically knows this place like the back of her hand. She remembers how she used to feel like she'd never find her way around.

The kitchen is empty. So are most of the other rooms, aside from the ones with people sleeping in them. She goes to check on Jack, gently peeking her head through the door. He's fast asleep, his back turned to the door. She silently closes it again.

She ends up in the bathrooms, only just realizing how much she wants a shower. A hot, hot shower.

She doesn't exactly notice it at first, distracted by her hair. Michael changed it so much, cutting it short and turning it dark.

She doesn't even notice as she steps into the shower. The hot water stings her skin.

She looks down and sees her right leg, completely blank. No scars. Devoid of ink. A small gasp escapes her lips as her fingers brush over the now smooth skin.

She jumps out of the shower and nearly slips to the ground getting to the mirror. She clears the condensation with a swipe of her hand and turns to examine her shoulders and back in the mirror.

Totally smooth. All her scars, the ones along her back, the bite marks on her shoulders. The varying scars she's acquired over the years. Her leg, the ink. Her tattoos. She had a small bouquet on her back, right between her shoulder blades. Just four flowers to represent her and her friends. Even her anti-possession tattoo on the back of her left leg.

Gone. All of it. Every scar, each tattoo. Proof of all her injuries. Proof of her life. Erased in a blink.

Maybe she was ashamed of her scars. At least they were hers.

No one will see them. Dean will never see them. She'll never get to show him her flowers, explain what it means as he brushes his fingers over her skin. Even if she wouldn't admit it to herself, she wanted that. She wanted to show him before it became another thing Michael took away from them.

Now, it's too late. He's erased it all.

Her fist flies into the mirror before she can stop herself. It cracks under the force of her hit. She's prepared to do it again, but she stops when she catches her own eyes in the broken reflection. Her chest heaves as angry tears slip down her face. Water drips down the cracks of the mirror.

Her head goes quiet as she stares at herself. She's not sure she recognizes the person staring back. Not with that hair and the haunted eyes. She doesn't want them. She doesn't want to be this. Be ruined. Not by him.

If she's going to break, it better be something worth a damn breaking over. Not by an angel on a power trip.

She slowly wipes away her tears. She slowly walks to the shower and shoves her bleeding hand under the hot water.

She finds bandages in a drawer and wraps her hand before drying off and putting her clothes back on. She drapes Dean's jacket over her arm. Guilt creeps up her throat at the cracked mirror. She hopes no one asks questions.

Knowing everyone, they will.

Leaving the bathroom, she goes back to Dean's room and slips inside. She grabs her phone from the desk and dials a number.

She stares at Dean's sleeping form as it rings, still holding the jacket. When the call is answered, she keeps looking at him. The person on the other line sounds wide awake despite the hour. "I need a favor," she says, simply and quietly.

She scribbles a note on the notepad as the call ends. Then she returns the jacket to its spot on the back of the chair and grabs her boots before leaving.

With Rowena. Don't worry.

Call if you need me

– Cath

✦  ✦

ROWENA'S FLAT is nothing short of witchy. Catherine couldn't have expected anything less.

Rowena ushers her in and shows her to the living room, where she has all the ingredients for a spell laid out. She sits across from the witch, who keeps eyeing her as if she could shatter at any moment. She tries not to roll her eyes, knowing Rowena probably means well.

"So...you're sure this will work?" Catherine asks, if anything just to clear the silence.

Rowena scoffs humorously as she fiddles with her batch of ingredients. "You lot love to ask me that, don't you?"

"Sorry. I just wanted to be sure."

"Trust me, dear, I'm no stranger to preventative measures. In fact, they're a dear friend of mine. I've been killed too many times not to be friendly with backup plans."

Catherine's brows knit together slightly. "Has everyone died but me?"

Rowena shrugs. "Don't jinx yourself. Hanging around with those boys, it's more likely than you'd think."

They aren't the only ones, she thinks.

Rowena catches a glimpse of her bandaged hand. "What's happened there?"

Catherine looks down at her hand, clenching her fist. "I...punched a mirror."

"Now why would you do that?"

"It was an accident."

"Oh, of course," Rowena replies. She grumbles something more under her breath that Catherine doesn't quite catch. Then she sighs and stands. "All right, come sit here."

Catherine quickly stands and takes Rowena's spot as the witch drags over a chair. "Show me where you want it."

Catherine lifts her sleeve and rests her arm on the armrest. "Just here," She points to her inner forearm. Rowena nods and scoots the chair closer before grabbing a thin paintbrush and a tin of ink.

"I hope you don't mind, but I've made some minor tweaks to your design. It's a bit boring, aye?"

"As long as it'll do its job."

Rowena hums and dips the brush in the ink. Carefully, she begins to trace out the design on Catherine's skin. Starting with the simple pentagram, the protection symbol. Then, she extends the design, painting a band around Catherine's arm, then adding delicate swirls all around.

"You know," Rowena starts, still focused on painting. "I am glad you're alright, Mack. Be a shame if that prick of an archangel was the one who took you down."

A grin finds its way onto her face at Rowena's words. They sit in comfortable silence, with Catherine watching Rowena's gentle hands finish the design. It doesn't take much longer for her to finish.

Rowena sets the brush and inkpot on the table and reaches for another item. "So. The ink has its own charms, but this is the important part." She holds up what looks like a piece of bone, crafted into a sharp point. "This may hurt a bit, so brace yourself."

Catherine nods and Rowena presses the point to her skin, directly in the middle of the pentagram. She presses down until it breaks the skin. Catherine doesn't flinch, but clenches her fist at the pain.

As her blood pools inside the pentagram, Rowena grabs the brush again. She retraces the lines of the knot, and when the lines meet once more, Catherine jumps at the sudden burning sensation. It's quick and sharp, and gone just as quickly. The lines begin to glow a faint purple, and it spreads over the rest of the ink. Then, after a minute, the glow fades.

"Now," Rowena says, grabbing a small bowl. "This is the finishing touch. I'll spread it on, leave it for a few minutes, rinse off, and that's that."

Catherine nods again. Rowena gently spreads the mixture over the design, then wraps it with cloth. "And now, we wait."

"How do you know how to do this?" Catherine asks.

"Improvisation, dear. I simply take my vast knowledge of witchcraft and adjust and apply it to the situation as needed."

"Right." She hesitates, then asks, "And why are you so inclined to help us– help me? I don't mean to pry, but Sam told me you all haven't always been friendly."

Rowena waves a hand casually. "We've tried to kill each other loads of times. Past is past, eh?"

"But why be allies now? What changed?"

The witch doesn't answer for a moment, focused on tidying her ingredients. Then she sighs and meets Catherine's eyes. "I'm old, dear. Over three hundred years, and I've been the vast majority of it being generally horrible. Selfish, greedy, the works. Hurting bad people, hurting good people. Not caring as long as I got what I wanted. Then I met your boys, I tried to kill them, they tried to kill me, we went back and forth. Using each other often. Then..."

She looks away for a moment, eyes turning glassy. "My son. He sacrificed himself for your friends. He died to save them. For a long time, I hated it. Couldn't fathom what would be worth his life. Then I just...I grew tired. I tried to understand. Decided, maybe I could do with a bit of sacrifice of my own. Care about something. So, dear, you ask what changed? I did, I suppose."

Catherine smiles at her answer. "Dean told me how you helped them find me. Thank you. And for this," She gestures to her arm.

"My turn to ask you something, then?"

"Okay."

"What's with the bullet? What did it mean to you? Of course, not to pry, but."

The question confuses her. "What do you mean? What bullet?"

Rowena grins knowingly. "Ah, I see Dean left that part out. For the spell to track and find you, I need something personal of yours. He brought me a bullet."

"Oh." Her hand instinctively reaches for her jacket pocket and is met with emptiness. She hadn't even realized it was gone. Her face heats slightly and she clears her throat. "I, uh...back when we first met, I showed him how to make different types of bullets, equipped for certain monsters. I guess the one he brought you is...the one I used to show him how to infuse a bullet with dead man's blood. For vampires."

Rowena nods. "Right. And you kept that one?"

"Shut up."

"I said nothing! Besides, up, up, it's time to rinse you off." They both stand and Rowena removes the cloth from her arm. "Just down the hall, on the right."

She nods and follows the directions.

The bathroom matches the rest of the flat perfectly. She chuckles gently to herself as she turns on the tap and shoves her arm under the water.

The mixture comes off easily, and under it, the design Rowena painted looks as if it was just a tattoo, healed and all. If she's honest with herself, she loves the design. She never thought about doing anything more creative with the anti-possession symbol. It was just for protection, nothing more.

She dries her arm and leaves the bathroom.

Rowena is finishing putting things away. She turns as Catherine comes in, and holds out her hands. "Let's see."

She holds out her arm, and Rowena takes it between her hands, examining it. "Set nicely." Her gaze meets Catherine's. "Understand that the only thing that will remove this is the same magic that put it here. Nothing can heal or burn it away."

Catherine breathes out what might be a sigh of relief. "Good."

"I know your circumstances aren't ideal, Mack, with Michael bouncing around in your head. If there's anything I can do, just call."

She smiles. "Thank you. For everything."

Rowena walks her to the door. She gets two steps into the hall, then stops. Her hand brushes against the new tattoo. Then she turns back before Rowena gets the door shut. "Actually– do you think there's something else you could help me with?"

✦  ✦

DEAN TRIES not to worry. The note makes him feel uneasy, but he trusts Cath. He doesn't immediately jump to call her, he steels himself enough to wait. So, coffee, kitchen, cases. Searching for something to do until they come up with a way to deal with Michael.

Jack comes in and pours his own cup of coffee. "Where's Mack?" He asks, grimacing at the taste of the coffee.

"She's out. She'll be back soon."

He nods in resignation. "Right." He quickly drains his cup and takes it to the sink.

"Something wrong?"

"Nope." He rinses the cup and leaves it in the sink. He moves to leave. Dean opens his mouth, but Jack walks out before he can say anything.

"Okay." He turns back to his tablet. No more than a few minutes pass before Cath walks in.

He's slightly stunned at how much she looks like herself. Just last night she was something of a shell. Despite her dancing and laughing with him, he saw it. Now she seems...lighter.

He watches as she pours herself coffee, then averts his gaze as she turns to walk over. He clears his throat as she sits across from him. "So...Rowena? What's that about?"

She sighs deeply. "I'll tell you later."

"I'm holding you to that."

"I'd expect nothing less."

"Did you sleep at all?"

She simply shrugs.

He sets his tablet on the table. Before he can even open his mouth, she's interrupting him.

"Dean, listen. I know you're worried, and I get it. But I need you to trust that I'm okay. I am, I think, for now."

Somehow, he believes her. Mostly. "And if that changes, you'll say something." It's not a question. Something of an order.

She nods.

"So, what's with the hand?" His gaze flicks from her face to her wrapped hand.

Before she can answer, Sam walks in. "Hey, anyone know what's up with that mirror in the bathroom?"

"What mirror?" Dean asks.

Cath says nothing, but moves her hands to hide them beneath the table. He narrows his eyes at her, and she avoids his gaze. Dean suppresses an eyeroll and turns back to Sam. "I'll look at it in a minute."

He waves a hand. "I can deal with it. Just wanted to see what happened." Based on the way his eyes switch between the two, he's put the pieces together. He shoots Cath a sympathetic look before walking out.

"Okay, look, I had a moment," Cath says. "But I am fine now. I just– I would explain, but it's a lot. A lot for right now. So...like I said, I'll tell you later."

He sighs and moves his tablet aside, gesturing to see her hand. "Let's have a look."

She holds out her hand, and he gently unwraps enough just to see how bad it is. It looks about as expected for someone who punched a mirror. No stitches necessary, at least.

"Word of advice," He says as he starts to rewrap her hand. "If you need to punch something, hit something that'll hit back. It's more satisfying."

"Noted," She answers with a small grin.

Her hand feels different, he suddenly realizes. He just can't place how.

He unconsciously turns her hand over. There's a noticeable lack of white scars in her palm, the ones every hunter seems to have.

She inhales sharply and pulls her hand away. "So," She easily changes the subject. "I got you something." She reaches into her pocket.

"You got me something?"

She holds up a silver chain, with a silver bullet dangling from it. She drops it into his hand and moves hers back under the table. "You don't have to wear it, but, um, y'know. It's silver."

He holds it in the light, brushing his thumb along the edge of the bullet. He grins to himself and puts it on without another word. That's that. "How do you feel about taking a case?" He asks, grabbing his tablet.

She seems slightly shocked, but shakes out of it. "Okay. Um, what've you got?"

He pulls up the article and sets the tablet in front of her. She quickly skims the article. "Bodies missing hearts...could be something."

"I was gonna pass it off to Sam and Cas, but...?"

She shrugs. "Invite them. Can't hurt, right?"

"All right. Meet at the car in half an hour?"

She nods and downs the rest of her coffee before standing. She sets her mug in the sink and moves to the exit.

"Hey, Cath?" He says. She turns with her foot on the step. "You look good," He says.

She smiles, a genuine, bright one. "See you in a minute," She says, and walks out. 

━━━━━
✦  ✦  ✦  ✦

author's note !!

they r sooo reputation coded

also i love rowena so so much shes mother

anyways this chapter doesn't have much of a plot its mostly filler but i hope u guys liked it regardless 

on another note, 10k reads??????????????? what the literal fuck thank you i actually died when i saw it like. ten thousand people reading this is crazy the fact that so many people stick around even tho i update like once a month is insane

i am genuinely going to try and update more often but don't hold me to it. tbh tho if this shit ain't finished by the end of this year someone needs to put me down

as always leave votes and comments if ur enjoying <3

thanks for reading!!

-skye