I didn't know you made a deal to save him.

Katherine delicately shoves the knife under her cast and starts to wiggle back and forth to scratch her skin.

Russell heard every one of Katherine's memory replays of the last few months of Dean's life. Of her meeting the first crossroads demon. He said she was under God's 'witness protection program' and no demon would deal with her—ever. The thunderstorm that seemed to come out of nowhere...and Ruby and all of her riddles. She said Katherine had the kind of red tape that starts wars. That she had a pedigree. And the second crossroads demon who was brave enough to meet her. 'Angel protection detail,' she called it. The thunderstorm that was overhead was angels, raiding their armory. 

She knew it all this time, and yet...

Katherine thought she was so clever—the way she changed the contract details right before it was sealed with a kiss, and the demon was so bent on getting out of there that she didn't even notice.

And the angels were so bent on rescuing her that they didn't notice either.

That all she said was when Dean's contract is up, he doesn't die. She never offered her name again.

It would've saved Dean...and maybe none of this would be happening. 

And then that night...she fell out of her bed and into a white plush chair, sat in front of a table full of seemingly-normal people. But behind those people were terrifying creatures of Heaven. Six wings of razor-sharp feathers, a ball of four interlocking golden wheels inlaid with haunting large eyes all focused on her.

Seraphim, Ophanium, and Malakim.

Angels.

Towering statures, humanoid bodies that seemed to radiate light...glow.

And one of them said she failed. Failed.

But none of these angels were the one she just met. None of them were Castiel.

Something in her bones whispers archangel.

Dean shook her awake that night, and found that she couldn't open one of her eyes. It was sealed shut with dried blood...

Just like at the estate, Russell realizes. Then, after a moment, Why do they make your eyes bleed?

Katherine purses her lips. They've made me forget everything, she realizes. 

It's almost like a lobotomy. It was a throwaway comment, but...he's right. The inner corner of the eye, subsequent memory loss.

How many times had they done that to her?

"Would you stop doing that? Before you cut your arm open?" Bobby asks.

Sourly, Katherine looks up from her cast. Bobby's sat at his desk, piled high with books and journals and notes. Sam and Dean are arguing in the kitchen...and she's just sitting by the fireplace, Russell lain out on the hardwood beside her chair.

"Demons lie," Dean seethes in the kitchen.

"How are they still going on about that?" Katherine sighs, moving her glasses onto her head, and pinches between her eyes. 

"Surprised you haven't heard 'em the past half hour," Bobby grumbles. "You okay over there, kid? Seem like you're still pretty shaken up."

It's been two days since Castiel vanished before her very eyes. She'd only seen demons able to do that. 

She chews on the inside of her cheek before nodding. "Yeah. I'm fine." She sighs, flipping the demon knife over in her left hand. "Be a lot better if I didn't have this damn cast on, though."

Bobby stares at it for a few long moments while Sam goes on about how even Lilith is afraid of Castiel, that there's no way he's a demon—why would he lie? And he walked through devil's traps and salt rounds and Ruby's knife.

"If angels were real," Dean begins, leaning against the sink. "Don't you think that some hunter, at some point, would've seen one, somewhere...ever?!"

"You just did, Dean." Sam tosses his father's journal to the side.

There's no use in looking in it anyway. They've all read those pages forwards and backwards, sideways, up and down. Katherine probably has the damn thing glossaried in her head by now. Or, she may have used to. Who knows what's in there anymore?

"Katherine, can I get a little backup in here?" He calls out.

Katherine rests her head back on the chair with closed eyes. "I think you got it, bub," she returns.  Dean starts in again.

Dear God, Russell grumbles, audibly groaning as he tucks his head under the chair. 

"You two chuckleheads wanna keep arguing about religion?" Bobby asks. "Or do you wanna come look at this?"

Katherine opens her eyes and turns her head before unwinding from her ball, long legs carrying her to the desk in a matter of few steps. 

"I've been going through all of this—" Bobby gestures to the stacks beside him. "Some of it's biblical, some of it's pre-biblical...hell, some of it's in damn Cuneiform. Everything says an angel can snatch a soul from the pit."

It's a picture book, which Katherine particularly enjoyed. An old picture book, anyway. An angel of the classic depiction—halo, wings, white tunic, pleasant face—is reaching into the black depths of Hell, the lower half of the page, to rescue a damned soul. 

Katherine taps the man's face. "Kinda looks like you, Dean." He gives her a flat look. 

"What else?" Dean asks.

Bobby frowns. "'What else' what?"

"What else could've airlift me out of the hot box?"

"As far as I can tell," Bobby sighs, leaning back in his chair. "Nothin'."

Dean doesn't seem pleased by that at all. He just scowls and shifts his weight and stares at the desk. "Dean," Sam murmurs. "This is good news."

Katherine eyes his smiling face all over. He's pretty stoked about all this.

I mean, from a totally objective standpoint, it's a pretty big find, Russell hums. Angels, I mean. 

Score for the Christians.

"How's this good news?" Katherine asks.

Sam sighs. "For once, this isn't just another round of goddamn demon crap. Maybe he was saved by one of the good guys!"

Katherine shakes her head. "Castiel doesn't really strike me as one of the good guys."

Sam frowns a little. "I mean, you saw him the same as Dean, right? He could've killed both of you, but he didn't."

Her eyebrows shoot up. "No murder equals good guy. Noted."

Sam rolls his eyes. "You know what I meant. I mean, not that long ago, you and I were talking about how if demons exist, why can't angels?"

"Okay...I'm not denying the existence of them," Katherine says. "But I don't think...that we have a true idea of what an angel is."

"What do you mean?" 

She rolls her tongue over her teeth. Booming voices echo in her mind. You will know you failed. "I mean that maybe we shouldn't take the pop culture depiction as truth, you know? Think about the Bible as propaganda."

"Damn."

Katherine holds her hands up. "I'm just saying, humans are notoriously biased. If you wanted someone to convert to a religion, wouldn't you paint things in a very positive way? Make the fiercest warriors of God as...kind, gentle beings?" She shrugs. "Anyway, angels were traditionally depicted as warriors. Raphael's painting, for example, is called St Michael Vanquishing Satan. Vanquishing. It's not exactly gentle language."

"She's got a point," Bobby hums in agreement. 

"So, fine, angels exist." Dean crosses his arms and meets Katherine's gaze. "Are we saying God exists, too? Like is an actual, physical being?"

She shrugs her shoulders high. "At this rate, Vegas money's on yeah."

Dean laughs a little, shaking his head, and runs a hand over his hair as he turns away from her. "I don't know, Kit."

"Dean, you don't have to be all choirboy about this stuff," Sam says. "But this is becoming less and less about faith and religion and more and more about proof."

Dean spins around on one foot, giving his brother a bewildered look. "Proof?" He echoes. "Proof that there's a god out there who gives a personal shit about me?" He looks to Katherine, and she swears his eyes are wetter than usual. "I'm not buying it!"

"Why not?" Sam challenges.

"Because why me?!" Dean roars. Silence fells the room. Katherine can't even hear Russell breathe. "If there is a god out there, why would he give a shit about me?" He looks at Katherine...and it's anguish. It's torment. It's everything they know that Sam and Bobby don't. 

If God cared so much, loved so much, like a mass of different people say...how could he stand for the things that walked the Earth with intent to commit unspeakable evil? People, monsters—they're one in the same. People can be monsters, and monsters can be people. Innocents suffer. Innocents die.

His baby died.

Her lip quivers, and she tears her gaze from his wild eyes.

"I've saved some people," Dean says. "I figured that made up for the stealing, and the lying, and—" He limply gestures to Katherine, who wasn't looking to even see it. "But why do I deserve to get saved? I'm just..." He laughs wryly, throwing his arms out. "I'm ordinary."

"Well apparently you're an ordinary guy who's important to the man upstairs," Sam says. 

Dean looks to Katherine again, but she won't lift her head. He clams up. "Well that creeps me out."

"Lots of figures in the Bible didn't want to be singled out, either," Sam hums. 

Dean rolls his eyes and rubs his face. "Fine," he sighs. "What do we know about angels?"

Bobby presses his lips together, reaches to his right, and drops a stack of four thick books—and a pocket Bible on top. "Start readin'," he hums.

Dean blinks, then looks to his brother. "You're gonna get me some pie." He grabs the pocket Bible and storms into the kitchen.

Come to find out, it's a children's Bible. A picture one. 

Katherine sighs, grabbing the next book, and goes back to her chair. 

If you drop a book in front of me I can read it.

She smiles a little, peering over the arm of her chair, to see Russell lying on his back, gravity pulling lips from teeth, brown eyes staring up at her...positively sweet.

I don't trust you'd be able to turn the page without tearing it.

His eyes move to his left paw, which extends into the air. I do need some lotion, he agrees. Katherine grins and turns her attention to her book. Grab another book and we can divide and conquer upstairs.

She raises her eyebrows and slowly closes her book. That's not a horrible idea, Russ.

I'm not particularly known for horrible ideas, he agrees.

Katherine rolls to her feet and crosses over to the desk. Bobby lifts his head from his hand, eyes tearing from his book, to watch her take another one.

"Mighty ambitious," he states.

Katherine shrugs a coy shoulder and turns on the ball of her foot. "I might be due for a nap," she yawns. "Might power through two textbooks. Who knows?"

Dean pokes his head around the corner of the kitchen. "You're ditching us?"

"I'm just going upstairs, Dean." She offers him a small smile before starting for the stairs. "Come on, boy," she says, looking to Russell. He thrashes to his feet, gives his body a shake, and starts up the stairs with Katherine.

Dean listens to her bedroom door close before he speaks. "I think that's a strangely well-trained dog for a stray...Don't you, Bobby?"

Bobby just sighs. "If she broke into a police station to get a K9, I do not wanna know about it."

Russell stretches out on their bed with a soft groan. "Being a dog is just so constricting," he mumbles, turning onto his belly with a sigh. 

"Ah-ah." Katherine sits beside him and shoves a book his way. "We came up here to read."

"You said read or nap," Russell reminds her. After a few moments, he opens one of his eyes to find hers intently locked on her book.

"You should put on a pair of pants," she suggests, the smallest of smirks tugging at the corner of her mouth.

"Why on earth would I do that?" She offers no reply. "I know I just said being a dog is constricting, but I'm changing my comment."

One eyebrow quirks. "Oh?"

"Mhm. It's actually pretty liberating."

Katherine looks to him with a deadpan face. "Why, 'cause your balls are out?"

Russell cracks a wide grin. "You should try it sometime."

She snorts, turning back to her book. "You are somethin' else," she mumbles. Her phone buzzes in her back pocket, and she rolls onto her side, a silent request for him to retrieve it. Russell wordlessly obliges before handing it to her. Katherine barely glances at the screen before dropping her phone. "Your brother is inquiring after your health."

"Oh?"

"Indeed." She peers at him over the rim of her glasses. "You think those cats are driving him nuts yet?"

"Nuts, huh?"

Katherine stifles a laugh. 

"Hey," he hums after a moment, and she turns her attention to him. "Do you think we should tell everyone what's going on?"

Katherine's eyebrows furrow, and she closes her book. "What, with...like you and me, or...you and me?"

He shrugs a shoulder. "Maybe the part where I'm not really a dog first. Set the record straight, make it a little less weird."

She nods in consideration, slight amusement. "Uh...well, I don't think Dean would take too kindly to knowing another man's bare balls have been on his precious leather seats."

Russell scoffs. "My balls were not on the seat."

Katherine clicks her tongue in doubt. "Dunno about that, bud."

"You starin' at my balls?"

"Russell, they're right there."

"Okay, no more ball talk." He sighs and props himself up on his elbows. "I will put on a pair of pants and call my brother."

"Wonderful." She flips her book open, back to page one. 

Russell's conversation with Patrick was muted and brief, for the sake of not drawing attention to their room with unfamiliar voices and sounds. He did, indeed, put on a pair of shorts—the gray sweat cutoffs that Katherine admitted to liking so much—and started reading the second book that Katherine brought up.

All of ten minutes goes by before Dean's voice reverberates up to their door. "And don't forget the pie!"

"Does he have a favorite pie?" Russell quietly, mindlessly, inquires.

Katherine smiles. Despite the heavy nature of the past few days, what with a literal angel of god appearing before them, she's been smiling quite a bit. "Dean is indiscriminate when it comes to pie," she says. "But, he has said to me on several occasions that Charlie's apple pie is the bee's knees." She clicks her tongue and makes an 'ok' sign the best she can with her right hand. "Warmed, with a scoop of a very specific brand of vanilla ice cream, and a caramel drizzle. He puts a little brandy in the filling. Dean also favors pecan...and turtle, which might be my favorite."

"Turtle, huh?"

"Oh yeah." Katherine nods, brows furrowed. "A little ice cream pie never hurt nobody."

"What kind do you think Sam will pick up?"

Katherine sighs. "Sam is going to forget the pie."

Russell looks to her in surprise. "Is he?"

Katherine nods. "He's forgotten it twice, and considering this is a rather penultimate pie request, he will forget it this time. Everything happens in threes." She shrugs. "Murphy's Law."

"I don't think the rule of threes is Murphy's Law."

"No, I know. I was saying it as two separate thoughts."

"My fault."

"Lay off my shit, Russ."

Heavy footsteps start up the stairs, and within moments, someone is knocking on their door. "Kit?" Dean calls through the wood. "We gotta go."

Katherine sets her book to the side and starts for the door. She doesn't have to check that Russell's turned. It's a change in the environment she's just grown to sense. She opens the door, revealing Dean looking particularly vexed. 

"What's going on?" She asks.

He sighs. "Bobby hasn't heard from one of his hunters in a couple of days."

Katherine squints a little. "So..."

"So we're going to check on her."

Katherine blinks. "Because someone's not answering her phone..."

"I dunno." Dean shrugs. "I'm inclined to agree with you, but...Bobby seems pretty concerned. He said he's left her messages and she usually gets back to him quick."

She sighs, dropping her hand from the doorknob. "I guess I'll go put my contacts in."