Charlie Taylor hadn't felt like this before in his life. 

His bones ached. This longing felt like a hole in his chest...and what could he do about it but wait for that part of him to come back? Her calling was in the weird and terrifying...not in the safety of a small town medical practice. Not in his bed, in his arms...his.

So if he knew that, why did he spend so long staring into the display window of a jewelry shop? Not at nothing.

At a ring that immediately reminded him of his favorite person. 

Was it selfish of him to even consider this? To consider asking her for forever when he knew about where her heart was? Of course it was with him, in that sense...but hunting is her. 

Sophia stops talking when she realizes Charlie isn't next to her anymore. She does a half circle and finds him about ten yards back, staring into a window like he's in a trance. 

"Charlie?" She sidles up beside him, his dark eyes still locked on an object inside. Immediately, she knows which one it is. A grin splits accross her face as her blue eyes dance over the glittery pear-cut solitaire. "She likes gold," Sophia whispers.

The corner of his mouth turns upward before his dark eyes find Sophia's. 

"Do you think it's selfish?" He whispers back. "To ask her...to ask her to stay out of it all?"

"No," Sophia softly returns.

"What if she says no?"

"She won't." Sophia grins. "Well...she might go, "No. What?" But I think that's more of a disbelief thing." Charlie chuckles. 

Charlie always knew he was going to spend the rest of his life with Katherine. Now it seems real. He'd had dreams about it, longed to return to a home with her all over it. Their kids. What would they cook for dinner? What would they do on the weekends?

He'd bought a vacant lot just before he met her, and when the three of them started hanging out together, he'd put on those house flipping shows. Listened to what she liked. What she hated. 

He started building four months ago. There had been some delays, but Katherine's dream home had been built right under her nose. It's easy, what with her being gone so often. Not even Sophia knows.

It'll be finished in three weeks. That puts it at the fourth of July weekend. 

"I think I'm gonna go in there," Charlie murmurs. Sophia grins and hugs herself. Tears spring to her eyes, and she quickly, wordlessly nods. Charlie waltzes right into that shop. Sophia watches an employee's hand reach into the display and grab the rock that'll be sitting on Katherine's finger soon. 

If only Charlie had a brother and Sophia loved him. Then they'd really be sisters.

✕

"You always have those dreams, don't you?"

Katherine rubs her eyes, willing the grogginess away. Willing the eyes to go away.

"What?"

Dean doesn't sit up from the sofa. "The nightmares, I mean."

Katherine stares in his direction in the dark. "Yeah," she whispers. 

"Every night."

"Yeah." Katherine swallows and glances to the moonlight streaming through the curtains. "Yeah, he always comes back. It's like...it's like part of him just stuck in my brain when that bullet hit." She gnaws on her lip and turns over. 

"What did it feel like?" Dean asks. "When you died."

She stares at the ugly seventies curtains. She doesn't have to think hard about it. She re-lives it every night. "Cold. I was scared. I wasn't ready." Katherine releases a long, heavy breath.

"You still don't remember anything after?"

"Nope. I've tried. All I remember is feeling really tired...couldn't keep my eyes open. And then I blinked, and I kept smelling wet leather. Your jacket." She sighs and sits up. 

Her side aches a little. They got their tattoos today...blown-up renditions of Dean's anti-possession amulet she'd spent hours sketching in the back of the car. She had to explain to the entirety of the tattoo shop that pentagrams aren't inherently evil...over and over again. 

Sam and Dean got theirs on their chests. Katherine got hers on the left side of her ribs. 

What should've been a comfort for her has done nothing. It's three AM. She and Dean are wide awake. 

Thank God Sam is still somehow a heavy sleeper. 

"How did Sam get over losing Jess?" Katherine whispers. She doesn't know why she asked. "I, um..."

"You mean how did he start sleeping again?" She nods, but Dean doesn't see it. She doesn't even mean it.

She meant how did Sam get over losing Jess, because I may need to do that to get over losing you.

"I don't know," Dean quietly admits. He turns onto his side without another word. Katherine is left sitting in the dark with her own thoughts. 

Last time she got up and wandered around by herself, Yellow Eyes possessed her. The fresh tattoo on her left side should be a comfort, but somehow it isn't. 

She quietly gets dressed and takes the keys to the Impala anyway. She leaves a note on the kitchen table, just in case they wake up while she's gone, and slips out into the muggy Missouri air. 

A rain storm must be coming. That's why it's so warm outside.

Ten minutes into her seemingly-destinationless-expedition, the downpour starts. For a while, she's just driving around.

And then it's four AM, and there's a quiet dive on the right side of the crossroads.

And then she's reaching for her mother's cigar box underneath the passenger seat. She runs her fingers over the gold initials, JMF. She opens the box, picks up the first ID of hers she sees, and sets the box down. 

And then she walks to the trunk and fishes out their tin box. She picks up one of the jars labeled "necropolis sand," and sprinkles that over her ID. Graveyard dust. Most people don't know what the hell "necropolis" is, so it shouldn't have been a problem if the trunk got broken into. 

She doesn't even know what she's doing, or why, until it's too late. 

Her chest is heavy with grief and guilt. She knows this is wrong. It's far from wrong...it goes against who she's been raised to be. But to save the Winchesters, she'll do this. 

What about Charlie?

She supposes she can understand Dean's sudden urgency to make his life mean something. All her life, Katherine's hunted monsters and probably killed things that didn't deserve it. All those people she saved, all those demons she exorcised, it seems to amount to nothing if those boys aren't safe.

They're her last family she's got.

What about Charlie?

She waits a few moments, glancing in all four directions of the crossroads, her heart feeling like it could give out at any moment.

Is it too late to pull it out?

No...no, when the demon gets there...when it gets here, say you changed your mind. Deal's off. 

"Come on!" She shouts over the rain, and thunder booms not far from her. "Show your face, you ugly sonuvabitch!"

You're such an idiot.

"You don't play very nice, do you?" A velvety voice asks from behind her. Katherine whirls around. 

A tall man stands befor her, blond hair flat and dark against his head with the rain. His eyes are red, and his skin is fair.

Dean is going to be so mad when he finds out—

"I want—"

"I know what you want. You think I would be here if you didn't want something?" He chuckles. "Katherine Louise Donovan." He says her name like a taunt. 

"Swap Dean out for me." The demon laughs. "I mean it." Her voice is as cold as ice. Desperate. 

"Sorry, hun. I didn't make that deal, I can't change it."

She shifts her weight, her wheels turning, glaring up into the ruby gaze of the demon before her.

This should be a good thing. Deal's off.

"Then..." She lets out a heavy breath. "Then you and me, we're making our own deal. The day Dean's deal comes to pass, I want him to be safe."

Charlie.

The demon laughs. "For this to work, you have to have something I want."

"I'll take his place," Katherine croaks. Charlie. "If you keep Sam and Dean Winchester safe when Dean's deal comes to pass...send the Hellhounds for me." Thunder rumbles in the sky, purple lightning darting between the clouds. The demon turns his head up to the Heavens, and almost laughs again.

"No," he says.

Katherine feels like she's been stuck in freezing cold quicksand. "No," she hoarsely echoes.

Thank you.

"No," the demon repeats. "This ain't no regular thunderstorm, hun. This is the angels talkin'. They're fighting." A smile twitches at his lips. "Over you. How...funny."

"Fighting?" Katherine glances to the black sky. "What are you talking about?"

"Sweetheart, you're under God's Witness Protection Program. No demon is gonna make a deal with you. None."

And with that, the demon is gone, and the rain halts. If it weren't for the mud, Katherine wouldn't have thought it rained.

Thank you.

"Hey—hey, get back here!" Katherine shouts, turning around. "We're not done!"

Charlie.

After waiting for another ten minutes, she digs her box up, wipes it off, collects her items, and speeds back for the motel.

As she slips into her room, she thinks about what the demon said. The angels are fighting.

Her mother always said thunder was the sound of the angels bowling. Or was it God?

Katherine hurries for the bathroom and closes the door before she turns on the light. She turns on the shower and throws her wet clothes to the ground.

She should be glad. Instead, she feels the iron weight of disappointment in her chest.

She only notices Dean isn't on the sofa when she climbs into her bed. 

"I had a dream," Dean murmurs, eyes closed as his features face the ceiling. 

Katherine jumps. Ice pumps through her heart as she looks at him on her left with eyes the size of quarters.

Does he know where I went? What I was doing? 

"You were there," he quietly continues. She watches his jaw work against nothing. His teeth grind. Is he sleep-talking? "We were happy. Two kids. A boy and a girl."

"Dean," she whispers. He doesn't answer. 

"We were happy," he says again.

Perturbed, Katherine settles into her pillow and rests on her right side, facing away from him. Something about it feels wrong...turning her back on him. But her left side is so sore...

"I love you."

She didn't know she was crying until Dean turned away from her.

Thunder rolls across the hills and valleys of her brain, conjures those crimson red eyes behind her lids.

The angels are fighting.

✕

I love you.

Katherine thought about it all day. She thought about it when she woke up in the morning. She thought about it as Dean's eyes caught hers in the rearview mirror. She thought about it as she poured molten silver into their bullet molds at Bobby Singer's place.

And she's thinking about it again as she pops them out. 

"Hey." Sam's voice startles her from her thought-circle. I love you I love youIloveyou. "Might've found some omens in Ohio. Dry lightning, barometric pressure drop..."

"Well, that's thrilling," Dean dryly says, staring at the Colt.

He's just five feet away from her.

"Plus some guy blows his head off in a church and another guy goes postal in a hobby shop before the cops take him out," Sam continues, crossing into the cluttered living room.

"Could be a suicide and a psycho scrapbooker," Dean retorts.

"Dude, it's our best lead since Lincoln."

"Lincoln was a bust," Katherine drones, swiping the gun from Dean, and stares at the weapon that killed her. "Where in Ohio?" She finds herself asking.

Anything to get her mind off of Dean. 

Charlie.

A victorious smirk twitches at Sam's lips. "Elizabethville, a half-dead factory town in the rust belt.

Unamused, Katherine's brows shoot up. "Cozy."

"There's got to be a demon or two in South Beach!" Dean bursts. "We haven't been to Florida in forever."

Sam frowns. "It's been, like, two weeks."

Dean shrugs.

"Just admit you miss Charlie," Sam taunts. 

Dean crosses his arms, tilting his chin indignantly. "Well we haven't been to Miami."

Katherine sighs, sliding part of the Colt back to Bobby. "Any progress?" She asks him.

"Small."

She smiles a bit, turning back to her bullets. Small. Bobby's been reduced to the vocal function of a toddler. Not the right word, but similar meaning.

"It's a little sad, seeing the Colt like that," Dean muses, staring at the guts.

"Ah, well," Bobby drawls. "The only thing it's good for now is figuring out what makes it tick."

"So what makes it tick?" Sam asks. Both Bobby and Katherine look up at him with varying levels of dry expressions, ranging from "I might snap your neck" to "Don't even ask." Sam raises his hands in surrender.

The afternoon of de-assembling and re-assembling the Colt was an annoying task, at the least. 

"So," Dean says, getting to his feet. "If we went to go check out those omens in Ohio, you think you could have this thing ready by afternoon?" He asks, reaching for his jacket. A wary smile pulls at Katherine's lips as she moves away from a simmering Robert Singer.

"Well, it won't kill demons by then," Bobby says. "But I promise you, it'll kill you." He pulls the hammer back, aiming the barrel at Dean. Katherine chuckles and kisses the man on the head; he's wearing his hat, but it doesn't matter.

"All right," Dean hums, reaching his hand over, and lightly touches Katherine's back. She tried not to notice it. Sam did. "Let's get out of here, we're wasting daylight."

"See ya, Bobby," Katherine cheerfully calls over her shoulder.

"Hey!" The hunters all turn on their heels. "You kids run into anything, you call me."

Katherine chuckles. "Pfft." She turns back to the door and stats to the Impala. Bobby stares at the remaining two.

"She thinks she's big and bad because she's exorcised three demons in the past month," Dean explains with a shrug.

Bobby doesn't have an ounce of play in his face. "You boys look out for her, you hear me?"

"Yes, sir."

Sam stays in the car while Katherine and Dean do the initial digging.

"There's not much left for the insurance company," the priest says. "It was a suicide. I saw it myself."

"Well, this shouldn't take long, then," Dean tells him.

The priest stops before the podium. "That's where Andy did it," he says. "It was the first time I'd seen him in weeks. He used to come every Sunday."

"When did he stop?" Katherine wonders, glancing away from the stained glass window.

She can't remember the last time she'd went to confession. She can't remember the last time she'd been in a church. A fully-functioning, no-rickety-floorboads or spirit-infested church.

"Probably about two months ago," the man says, looking to Katherine and Dean. "Right around when everything else started to change."

"Change how?"

"Well," he sighs. "Let's just say this used to be a town you could be proud of." A soft smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. "People...cared for each other. Andy sang in the choir, and one day, he just wasn't Andy anymore. It was like he was..."

"Possessed," Katherine hums.

Grimly, the priest nods. "You could say that," he quietly says. "Gambled away his money, cheated on his wife, destroyed his business...yes." He nods again. "Like a switch had flipped."

"Father? Did you know who murdered those people in the hobby shop?"

"Sure. Tony Perkins. Good man."

The salt-and-pepper haired man gazes curiously at Katherine with eyes grayer than hers. "Would you say his personality suddenly changed, too?"

His brow furrows as he shifts his weight, pondering her suggestion. "I never thought about it that way, but...yes. About the same time as Andy—maybe two months ago."

"Well, thank you, Father," Dean says after a brief silent exchange with Katherine. "We appreciate your time." He nods and recedes into the back of the church, and the two hunters start for the door.

"A month and a half ago, that devil's gate cracked open," Katherine says.

"Yeah, all of the sudden, this town turns into Margaritaville?"

"It's no coincidence," she mutters. Sam looks up from the newspaper as Katherine and Dean begin to cross the street. He leans forward as they approach the car. They have time to open their doors only before he starts talking.

"So?" Sam asks, leaning forward from the back seat.

"It's definitely funky in there," Katherine hums. "We've got a name for our hobby shop killer—Tony Perkins." Sam starts writing. "The priest said both the dude who shot himself in the head and Tony were great people before...well, two months ago."

Sam grimaces. "When we opened the devil's gate."

Katherine presses her lips together and holds a finger up. "We did not open that gate. Jake Talley and Yellow Eyes opened up that gate, both of whom are dead. Can we get gone, please? This skirt is killing me."

✕

Dean laughs as he stares up at the mirrored ceiling of their motel room. Katherine gazes up at herself, blue eyes wide and...maybe a little shamed.

"Jesus," she scoffs, and continues forward to set her bag on the chair in the corner. Sam throws his bags near the sofa. "Sam, you can take one of the beds," Katherine says to him, moving back to the door to close it.

"S'all right," Sam says, shaking his head.

She smirks. "Then we're sharing," she states, glancing into the hallway as she closes the door. Just before she does, she sees an old...friend. Acquantiance? "Richie?" The curly-haired man looks up and she lets out a laugh. "Holy shit!"

"KD! What's up, girl?" Dean leans around the corner, brow furrowed as he gazes over at the familiar "hunter." "Eeeey!" Richie says, a smile growing across his face. "I didn't know you and Dean, uh...Winchester! I didn't know you two were together!" Katherine's brow quirks. "I thought you guys didn't play well with others, huh?"

Both of the hunters watch as a tall blonde woman with a plunging top and short skirt starts out of Richie's room.

"Oh," he chuckles, noticing the hunters' attention on the woman. "This is my sister, uh...Cheryl."

Katherine nods once, leaning against the doorframe. "Charmed," she says, crossing her arms. "You've met Dean, I take it. This is his brother, Sam."

A smile tugs at Richie's lips as he hands a wad of cash to Cheryl, then looks to Richie. "I knew you were freaky, Donovan—"

"Shut up, Richie."

"Yes ma'am," he purrs.

Bristled, but still mannered, Katherine nods her head into the room. "You wanna come in?"

"Oh, sure!" He turns sideways to fit in, nodding at Sam. "Hey, how ya doin'?"

"Not too bad," Sam says with a smile. "So how do y'all know each other?"

"You were in school," Dean says, tossing his jacket onto the chair as Katherine shrugs out of hers.

"It was that succubus, right?" Richie hums. Dean nods. "Oh, man! You shoulda seen the rack on this broad!" Richie winces. "Fricken tragedy when I had to gank her."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Dean says, turning to Richie with a furrowed brow. "Who killed her?" He smirks. "If I remember, your ass was toast until I showed up."

"Oh, I forgot what a comedian this guy was," Richie says to Katherine and Sam.

"Richie, I told you once, and I'll tell you again," Dean says. Richie digs into his jacket pocket as his phone starts to ring. "You're not cut out for this job—you're gonna get yourself killed."

Richie presses the green button. "Talk to me." He holds the phone away from his ear. "FYI, Winchester—words hurt." He turns to the window and crosses his arm.

Sam looks to Katherine with an amused brow. "So how'd you meet him?"

Katherine chuckles. "Must'a been seventeen, huntin' ghouls. He was almost ghoul food." She shrugs. "There's a pattern with Richie." She lowers her voice. "I'm surprised he isn't dead yet."

"You find anything in this town anyway?" Dean asks Richie.

"No," Richie says, shaking his head as he sits down in one of the chairs. "I got nothin'." The hunters stop what they're doing to gaze peculiarly at him. "Oh!" Richie sits forward. "You mean as in demons and whatnot?" Dean and Katherine exchange mirrored exasperated expressions.

"Yes," she says.

"Yeah, I got nothin'."

"Typical," Katherine scoffs. "What about your, uh, sister back there?"

"More like stepsister," Richie explains with his characteristic casual smile. "But honestly? She definitely had the devil in her. But she wasn't no demon, you know what I'm saying?" He winks and suggestively glances between the Winchester brothers and Katherine.

"Thanks, Richie," Katherine flatly hums.

"Seriously," he says, rising to his feet, and starts across the room. "Church guy, hobby shop guy—they were lunchmeat by the time I got there. Maybe they were possessed, but I can't prove it."

"Yeah, that's where we are, too," Sam tells him. "Let's just say demons are possessing people in this town." Katherine sits on the edge of her bed and crosses her legs. Richie follows the long line that begins at the toe of her black pump, up the tanned skin and stretch of the pantyhose leading up a toned thigh that disappears into the black skirt. Sam's expression falls flat, noticing both his brother and Richie gazing at the distraction, while Katherine is waiting for Sam to continue. But he doesn't.

"Well, why would a demon blow his brains out?" Dean asks.

"For fun," Katherine monotonously suggests.

"Wreck one body, move to another," Richie hums. The huntress nods in agreement.

"Anybody else who fits that profile?" Dean asks. "Nice guy turned douche that's still breathing?"

"Well, there's Trotter," Richie chirps.

The other three look to him in confusion. "Who's that?"

"He used to be head of the rotary club," Richie explains. "Then he turned bastard all of a sudden. Brought in gambling, hookers—" Katherine watches Dean pass by her to get to the Magic Hands device sitting on the end table. He smirks at her. "He practically owns this whole town."

"Know where we can find him?" Katherine asks. She rolls her eyes at Dean.

"He'll be at his bar in a few hours. Now, if you'll excuse me." Richie pushes himself away from the wall with a smile. "I'll catch ya later, huh, KD?"

"Whatever, Richie," she drones, rising to her feet, and glances over her shoulder as he shuts the door behind him. Katherine smirks, shaking her head.

"How do you know Richie?" Dean asks with a frown.

"Ghouls in 2003," Sam tells him. Katherine smiles and nods once. "You would know if you listened to her every once in a while."

"I listen to her!" Dean cries. "I don't like the way he was lookin' at you," he grumbles, unzipping his bag.

Katherine chuckles. "Well, some girls look at you like that. And Sam. You think I'm the most comfortable camper in the world?"

Dean smirks. "That why you're grouchy all the time? You jealous?"

"Funny," Katherine hums, resting face-down on the bed as she closes her eyes.

I love you.