"I'm sick of this phone thing. I need to see you."

Katherine smiles, turning onto her comforter. "Yeah, me too."

"It's been raining all week so we haven't been able toget any work done," he continues to complain. "So I hung out with my work friends."

"What a horrible week, Charlie Taylor," Katherine laughs.

"Yeah, well. I'd much rather it have been with you." He sighs, playing with a thread in the blanket. He chews on his lip for a moment, debating on even asking...she said she would rather not share the details of cases with him, but... "Katherine, I saw Sam and Dean were arrested the other day. What's going on?"

"Oh, that's nothing to worry about," she assures him. "We meant for it to happen. One of their contacts works in the prison they're at."

"So you're investigating."

"Yeah."

"And Dean murdered someone?"

She frowns. "What? Oh, no, no, no! Remember the shape shifter? It can turn into anyone, anything...the one in St. Louis was wearing his face."

"Oh, right...I kind of remember that in your very brief explanation of things you profressionally murder. Professionally."

Katherine chuckles, rolling onto her feet. "Anyway, I have a line-in with the D.A. here. He called me when he heard Dean and Sam were in lockup, so I have been appointed their lawyer."

Charlie frowns. "You're not a lawyer."

"I'm also not an FBI agent, or part of homeland security," she says, bending down to her bag. She smirks. "Regret keeping me?"

"Hell no," Charlie laughs softly. "Just...I need you to be careful, all right? I don't..." He lets out a heavy sighs.

"I always am," she murmurs, tossing a light blue blouse onto her bed. "You're wearing that amulet, right?"

"Yeah," Charlie answers. "Never take it off."

She smiles. "Good. I'll call you again when I can, all right?"

He wants to sigh again. He'd been hearing that too much lately. "Yeah."

"And I promise I'll be in town soon."

"I'm gonna hold you to it, Katherine Louise." He really didn't want to get his hopes up. He couldn't help it, the hold she had on his heart.

"I always keep my promises," she defends, searching for her skirt. "Anyway, gotta get dressed. I'll talk at you soon."

"I love you."

Katherine smiles, sitting back on her heels. "I love you." She hangs up and swiftly dresses herself. Her usually-curly hair has been flat-ironed. Walking into the sheriff's office, she looks especially polished.

Dean's eyes sweep over her, for a moment not recognizing her, but the bravado in her voice is a clear sign of who she is.

"And who are you?" Agent Victor Henriksen asks. He's a staunch man, a little pompous. Dean doesn't like him much.

Katherine sets her briefcase on the ground. "Amberle Sommers, public defender's office," she says, reaching her hand over to Dean. Completely ignores Henriksen. "I've been assigned you and your brother's case."

Henriksen doesn't seem happy.

"Are you Henriksen?" She asks the man.

"Yeah, and we're not quite done here."

She grins. "Uh, yeah, you are. And if you don't mind, I'd like to meet with my clients privately."

Dean beams, facially shrugging as Henriksen glances to him.

Sam is in the same room as Dean in no time. "Okay," Katherine sighs, clicking her brief case open. "Pete Samuels is a friend of mine, he's the D.A."

"What's that matter?" Dean asks.

"He's a retired hunter," Katherine murmurs. "He downloaded me with everything. That breaking and entering charge won't be heard until Tuesday, and they're gonna keep you in the county jail, Green River County. That's the one we're looking into, right?" Dean and Sam nod. "Okay, well, Pete said I can't expect y'all are gonna be granted bail. Five different states have already filed extradition papers—Missouri and Wisconsin are our biggest concerns, that bank robbery and the murder charges."

"Well how long can we stall extradition?" Sam asks.

"Less than a week," Katherine answers. "By the way, Charlie says hey, you're real badasses."

"Charlie knows?" Dean asks.

"Yeah," Katherine scoffs. "The Winchester brothers' arrest is all over the news. Mostly, they're trying to figure out how Dean isn't dead. Pete's doing everything he can to hold up that extradition," she continues, and her voice takes on a much more serious tone than before. It's quiet, almost scolding, warning. "But you boys are definitely goin' to Green River. Now this is, without a doubt, one of the dumbest, craziest things any of us have ever done, and that is a long career of dumb and crazy. So behave. Don't get any fights, don't trade each other for smokes, you hear?"

"Yes ma'am," they say.

"Keep your noses clean," she says, starting for the door, and nods once at them. "And no teardrop tattoos." With a final point, she exits the room and heads back for her motel.

She doesn't see them for another day or two. She researches the case over and over again, talks to Pete Samuels a couple of times, talks to Charlie as she researches. He even helps out. When he joked about becoming a hunter, she shut him down so fast, so unamused, that it gave him whiplash and a first degree burn. He couldn't imagine feeling what Katherine described to him. The loneliness, sometimes the self-loathing. The aches and pains of the job.

All he knows is he missed her...maybe even to the point of suffering through all of that just to be near her. So he's in the vicinity when she does something stupid.

Like this case.

"Agent Henriksen?" Katherine asks.

"Sommers," he says, sitting behind his desk.

"You have a minute?"

He gestures to the chairs before him. "Have a seat."

She steps forward. "I've been going over the Winchester charges, and I've gotta say." She pulls a chair up to his desk. "There are some wild inconsistencies."

"You're telling me," Henriksen scoffs.

"I talked to a cop in Baltimore," Katherine says. "She swears up and down these boys saved her life and helped her catch a killer. And there's a witness to the bank robbery in Milwaukee. She swears Sam and Dean saved her life." Katherine crosses her legs with a raised brow.

"Saved her from what?" Henriksen challenges.

"She was a little unclear on that," Katherine hums, smiling a little knowingly.

"That's because she's nuts."

"Were you in that bank vault with the hostages, Agent Henriksen?" She asks.

"No, but I was in Milwaukee. I spoke to her, and I spoke to all the witnesses."

"And?"

"And, all I know is, wherever these guys go, people die. It's that simple."

Katherine shakes her head and winches. "I don't know how that is," she says. "They just don't seem guilty to me. I think there's more to this."

"Like what?"

"I don't know," the young woman hums. "I can't put my finger on it. It's just...strange."

"Strange?" The man repeats. "Yeah, okay." He clears his throat and sits down. "Grown ups are trying to get their work done here, so...if you don't mind." Katherine's blood boils. Her level of rage is apparent in her features. But instead of using her words, she gets up and grabs her briefcase, which she makes sure to swing. It hits the coffee cup on his desk and it spills black all over the desk, his papers, the laptop. "Dang...hope it's salvagable." She smiles and ducks out of the office and heads to the detention center.

It was a circus, getting a private meeting with the brothers, but she got it, thanks to Deacon.

"Well, well, well," Katherine chuckles, crossing her arms as the brothers sit down at the table "Orange looks good on you both."

"Yeah, and the food isn't even half bad," Dean enthuses.

She smiles, shutting the door behind her. "Making friends?" She turns around and her smile drops. "What happened to your face?" She skeptically asks Dean, her voice low and accusing.

It's the smallest of scratches on his cheekbone, surrounded by a blush of red and purple, and a bit of yellow, but she noticed. That, and the small cut on his fuller-than-usual lower lip.

"Nothing that wasn't according to plan," Dean replies.

"Didn't I tell you to keep your heads down?" Katherine asks, moving to sit in front of the Winchesters. "What happened?"

"Well, it all started when Sam bumped Lucas' shoulder," Dean begins.

"It was an accident," Sam defends.

"And then Lucas got all Taxi Driver—"

"I won't understand that reference," Katherine warns Dean. The older man sighs.

"So then I got sent to solitary with Lucas—"

"Oh my God—"

"And then Mark Moody's spirit ganked Lucas—"

"Our number one spirit suspect, Mark Moody?" Katherine asks, and the brothers nod. "Go on."

"Lucas had a heart attack. He was in the cell across from me. The clock stopped, the lights went out."

"And then?"

Dean shrugs. "Mark didn't touch me."

"You're positive it's Moody?" The brothers nod. She nods to Dean's cheek. "And that's how that happened?"

"Oh, no. No, that happened today, actually," Dean says.

"See, we figured out Mark Moody didn't actually die from a heart attack, that was just a cover up," Sam tells her. "A guard beat him to death. There was a ton of blood in his cell in the old block—"

"How do you know?"

"I met a guy who was there when Moody was murdered," Sam explains. "Anyway, Dean had to get beat up by Tiny, who isn't Tiny at all, and I went to go light Moody's cell up."

"So then I was sent to the infirmary with Tiny," Dean explains. "And then a ghost nurse showed up and killed Tiny."

Katherine sits back in her chair. "All of this happened in two days?" The brothers nod.

"Oh, and Dean's really good at cards," Sam adds, glancing to his brother. Then he glowers. "And apparently picking up a bad habit." He plucks three cigaretts from inside his brother's jumper.

Katherine shrugs. "Currency of the realm," she says. Dean smirks at Sam.

"Told ya," he chirps.

"So what happened then?" Katherine asks. "What's with the ghost nurse?"

"Honestly?" Sam asks. "We don't know."

"Slight problem," Katherine says. "I talked to Deacon before I came to see you two—you're getting out tonight."

"Guess we better do some quick research, then," Dean says, and turns to the blonde before him. Her expression drops. "Nurse Glockner," he continues. "She worked here in the seventies. Randall said Glockner had it out for cons, used to give the inmates a little somethin' with a hypodermic."

Slowly, Katherine nods. "I'll see what I can find. I'll work fast, but like I said, Deacon's getting you out tonight. If I don't find anything, you need to drop it, all right? No postponing, no nothin'. Pete told me they're sending the truck in for you tomorrow morning, so it has to be tonight. In the meantime, no homemade shanks. Deacon's got you covered, but in case something happens, I'm gonna do something."

Dean snorts. "You're 5'8" and a buck fifty soaking wet. What are you gonna do?"

"Shut up and behave," Katherine mutters as she stands up. "I'll do what I can, all right?" The brothers nod.

She doesn't stop to grab lunch; she goes straight to city hall, charms her way into the records, and starts digging. She spends hours hunched over the books and computers, news articles.

And then she finds it. She writes a quick note for Dean and folds it up, including where Glockner's buried, and that she's left the Impala behind the prison for them to pick up tonight.

She drops that letter off, right to Deacon himself. He's a tall fellow, perhaps as tall as Sam, and impossibly lankier than the younger guy. Not exactly what she pictured for a prison warden, but she supposes he's more intimidating when he's not talking to a friend of the Winchesters'.

After nightfall, she waits in the cemetery for the brothers, leaning against her car. She stares at that radio, wondering if she should risk buzzing in.

In all her life, she'd definitely never done something so stupid. And there's been a lot of stupid. Hunting on her own as an adolescent—and a woman, at that. What else...following a drug mule to get to the cartel's werewolf lord. That was pretty stupid. But willingly allowing Sam and Dean to get thrown into jail...that's a different can of worms. That's Big Brother on their back. And posing as a D.A.?

At least she'll have stories to tell when she's in adult diapers. She chuckles at the thought.

Who would believe her? She's just batty Miss Donovan.

Her cellphone rings in her back pocket. She's careful to look at the caller I.D. before answering...and it's an unknown caller. With a frown, she answers it. "Hello?"

"Miss Sommers," Agent Henriksen says on the other end. "I need you at the station ASAP. THere's a bit of an emergency concerning your clients, Sam and Dean Winchester."

Katherine swallows thickly. What if it didn't work? "I'm on my way," she says, snaps her phone shut, and slides into her car through the open window. It's a short drive to the station. There are three officers and Henriksen himself waiting for her.

He doesn't look pleased, and that is cause for hope to swell in Katherine's chest. But what if that's just his face?

"Have a seat, Miss Sommers," he says. Katherine's eyes twitch, but she does anyway. "You visited Dean Winchester today, didn't you?" Her eyes harden. "Miss Sommers."

"Why?"

"It seems as though Sam and Dean Winchester have slipped through the cracks. They escaped." Relief floods her system. She almost slouches in her chair. "I need to know what you discussed."

She scoffs. "I can't discuss that."

Henriksen sighs. "It's a simple question," he says. "What did you and Dean Winchester discuss this afternoon?"

"And I said," Katherine begins with a hard jaw. "I am not at liberty to discuss it. That was a private conversation between me and my client."

"Right," Henriksen says, nodding as he leans his palms on the table. "And just three hours later, he just happens to bust out."

Katherine's eyes narrow. "Are you accusing me of something, Agent Henriksen?"

"Tell me what he said."

"No."

"Tell me!" He bellows.

Katherine slowly gets to her feet, blue eyes hard, and she goes toe to toe with him. "That is enough."

"Need I remind you," he says, stepping a few feet closer to her. "That I am a man of the law. So let me make this simple," he growls. "You don't come clean, I will put you on the hook for aiding and abetting!"

"Oh, that is ri-diculous!" Katherine cries.

"You don't think that I can?! You think this is some kind of game, lady?!" The young woman glowers at the FBI agent. "I am the last person on planet earth you wanna screw with!"

"Obviously you don't know me very well," Katherine says through her teeth.

"What did he talk about?"

"He wanted to know about a nurse who died in 1976."

He frowns, perplexed. "Why?"

Katherine scoffs. "I don't know."

"What else?"

"He wanted to know where she was buried," Katherine says with a shrug.

"Did you find out where?"

"Research is my specialty, Agent Henriksen," she pronounces. "If I want to find something, there is no rock it can hide under, I will find it." Her lip curls slightly.

"Did you tell Sam or Dean where she was buried?"

"Yes."

"Tell me."

Katherine crosses her arms. "Mountainside Cemetery," she says.

The only reason she caved was to get the hell out of Dodge, and she prayed Sam and Dean have done the same. If she didn't squeal, Henriksen would have held her there, and then what? Sam and Dean would storm in, guns-a-blazing to bust her out? Then the feds would be all over the three of them. So she threw Henriksen a bone and got the hell out of there. There would be no record of her in the D.A.'s office. She'd destroy the burner cell, wipe her prints from it, take so many precautions it'd be considered anal retentive.

Katherine holds her phone up to her left ear, propping her elbow up on the door as she speeds down the road. "Yeah," Dean answers.

She breathes a sigh of relief. "Henriksen knows you're gone," she says. "I just left the station. I sent him to the wrong cemetery, Dean, but he knows what we were talking about. You and Sam have to get the hell out of town."

"What about you?"

"I'm headed to Green Valley cemetery right now, unless you two are done."

"We were leaving town," Dean says, shaking his head. "Where are you?"

"5th and Church," she answers after a moment. "If you two were in trouble before—"

"Yeah," Dean sighs. "We've gotta go deep."

"Deep?" Katherine scoffs. She almost laughs. "Dean, we'd better go to...fricken...Laos."

"Ooh," he winces. "Don't know if I'm ready to go that deep."

She laughs, shaking her head, and her pulse thrums in her neck harder and faster than ever before. It makes her head hurt. "We shouldn't stop for a few hours," Katherine says. "I'm gonna head East. Aim for Memphis. We'll figure it out later. And don't call this phone anymore. Henriksen has the number."

"Yes ma'am," he says. "We'll see you in a few hours, KD."

"Radio in if something happens, all right?"

"You, too."

Katherine hangs up and rolls her window down. She rubs her phone on her sleeves and hurls it out of the window, onto the woods just off of the highway, and drives like hell for Memphis.

Sam and Dean arrive before her, since Dean isn't savvy to speed limits. He sent a text to her Forever Phone of the motel they were staying in about half an hour outside of Memphis.

Katherine scours the parking lot for the Impala before she actually cuts the engine. She grabs her bags, rereads the text Dean sent her, and moved for room 103. Katherine beats the side of her fist against the door, glancing up and down the hall to scope out anyone who may see her, anyone lingering a bit too suspiciously.

Dean peers through the peep hole first. Katherine doesn't look so good. There are faint purple shadows underneath her eyes, and she's a bit paler than usual. He quickly slides the chain from the door, twists the deadbolt, and opens the door up. Katherine ushers herself in, dropping her bags to the floor, and throws her arms around Dean.

It's the first time she's touched him, been so close, since he busted back into her life a short two months ago. She smiles at Sam, moving her arm behind Dean's shoulder, and wrestles him into the embrace, too.

"Jesus, you're a pair of idiots, you know that?" She grumbles, pulling away from the brothers. "We're never doing something like that again!"

Dean only smirks, and eventually Katherine chuckles, because they both know there are plenty of stupid things they haven't done yet.