"Wait—Meg is controlling the Daeva?" Katherine asks, shrugging a blue and white flannel over her red camisole as she walks into the boys' room.

"It looked like she was using the black altar to control it," Sam confirms.

"You mentioned a bowl?"

"She was talking into it. Like the way witches used to scry into crystal balls or animal entrails. She was communicating with someone."

"With the Daeva?" Dean asks.

"No, you said those things are savages," Sam says. "No, this was something different. Someone giving her orders. Someone who's coming to that warehouse."

That reminds her.

Katherine narrows her eyes and moves to the table in her room, flipping through the file a police officer gave her. "Kat?" The boys ask.

"Mitch from the police station," she says, starting back into the other room. "He gave me two complete records on the vics this morning."

Dean's eyes twitch. "How did you manage that?"

Katherine shrugs. "When I need someone to be Dazzled, I Dazzle them."

"What's the mechanism—"

"I don't stoop to your depths, if that's what you're asking." She shakes her head. "Anyway, the first victim, the old man? He spent his whole life in Chicago. Guess where he was born."

Sam and Dean read the report. "Lawrence, Kansas?" Dean asks.

Katherine leans her palms against the table. "Meredith, the second victim." Katherine slides the girl's report forward. "She was adopted. She's from Lawrence, too."

"Holy crap."

"Yeah," Katherine scoffs.

"That's where the demon killed Mom," Sam says, turning to Dean. "That's where it all started. You think Meg's tied up with this demon?"

"I definitely wouldn't rule it out," Katherine says, running her fingertip underneath the velvet strip across her neck to adjust it.

"But what's the significance of Lawrence? And how do these Daeva things fit in?"

"Beats me," the girl says, turning the chair around, and sits in it. "I say we trash the black altar, grab Meg, and have ourselves a friendly little interrogation. I know how to waterboard. Modified for demons, of course." Dean turns to her, perplexed. "Wikipedia, dude."

"We can't," Sam says, shaking his head. "We shouldn't tip her off. We've got to stake out that warehouse, see who...or what...is showing up to meet her."

"I'll tell you one thing," Dean murmurs. "I don't think we should do this alone."

"Dude." Katherine gestures to her face. "Isn't the point of the whole Musketeers thing for backup?" She crosses her arms over the top of the chair and sits up straight. "Who would we call, anyway?"

"I could try my dad."

"Would he answer?"

"Probably not," Dean sighs.

"Okay." Katherine holds a hand over her stomach. "Before we do anything, I need to get some food  before my stomach starts to eat itself." She stands up. "Anyone who wants brunch is free to join."

Dean bolts up and Sam follows.

✕

"What in the hell did you bring?"

Katherine shrugs. "My bat, holy water, salt, every fricken weapon under the sun."

"Exorcism rituals from about a half-dozen religions," Sam chimes in. "I'm not sure what to expect, so I guess we should expect everything, right?"

Katherine clicks her tongue, starting into her room to grab her ammo. "Big night," Dean sighs.

Sam's eyes move to his brother, watching him pack away their weapons. "You nervous?"

"No—are you?"

"No. No way."

Katherine rolls her eyes. "Well I am," she says, putting her hands on her hips. "So if you actually find that thing, what next?"

Dean chuckles. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves."

"Just curious," she defends, raising her hands, and loads two salt-filled shotgun shells into her sawed-off.

"Man, I'd sleep for a month," Sam mutters. "Go back to school, just be a person again."

"You want to go back to school?" Dean asks.

"Yeah, once we're done hunting the thing."

Dean doesn't know if he's hurt or not. "Huh."

"Why? Is there something wrong with that?"

"No—no, it's great. Good for you." Sensing more of that sibling trouble they always seem to have, Katherine snatches the keys to the Impala from Dean's front pocket and starts outside. She waits on the trunk of the car, staring up at the stars as she swings her legs and twirls the keys around her finger. The brothers are silent as they exit the motel room.

Katherine slides from the trunk and tosses Dean the keys, raising her eyebrows at him as she opens up the back door. Dean sighs inwardly, shaking his head a bit, and she ducks down into the car. On the drive to the warehouse, she occupies herself with the two bags of weapons on either side of her.

It's a silent drive, then a steep climb up some rickety outdated lift shaft in the warehouse. She doesn't look down at all. If she did, she would probably lose her grip and fall right into Dean. Though, Dean is probably waiting for it.

There's a rail embedded in the wall that helps the brothers grip the wrought iron rail up top, but Katherine is too short to use it for support. She goes up first anyway, placing the bottom of her gripped sneaker on the wall, and silently catapults her legs up top. She rises to her feet, drawing her beretta from the waistband of her pants, and pulls back on the hammer as silently as she can. Sam mimics her. They both wait for Dean before moving for better cover at the back of the floor, behind old creates and tables. They swap their handguns for shotguns.

Meg is still chanting at the black altar, her back turned to the hunters. And despite being nearly silent, somehow, she's aware of their presence. "Guys," she says without turning. "Hiding is a little bit childish, don't you think?"

"Well that didn't work out like I planned," Dean whispers. Katherine nudges him to shut up.

"Why don't you come out?" Meg turns to their hiding spot with a soft smirk on her face.

Katherine sighs, shaking her head, and rolls onto her feet. The brothers stand on either side of her, the three of them having mirror stances and walks as they aim five barrels at Meg.

"Sam, I have to say, this puts a real crimp in our relationship."

He scoffs. "Yeah, tell me about it."

"Where's your little daeva friend?" Dean asks.

"Around." She smiles. "That shotgun's not gonna do much good."

"Oh, don't worry sweetheart—the shotgun's not for the demon."

"So who is it, Meg?" Sam asks. "Who's coming? Who are you waiting for?"

"You." A shadow of a humanoid appears on the far wall, instantly drawing Katherine's eyes to it. It disappears into the shadows before Sam is knocked to the ground, then Katherine, and Dean is thrown into the back wall.

The demon tears at Katherine's neck. "Katherine, the last time we spoke, you were a feisty chihuahua," Meg drawls. "All bark and no bite, I guess."

The Winchesters watch her head whip to the side, as if she'd just been hit in the face—she doesn't move for a minute or two after that.

And then they're all tied up.

"Hey, Sam?" Katherine croaks, wiggling her hands—they're bound with rope, her back pressed into a wooden support beam. "Don't take this the wrong way, but your girlfriend is a bitch."

"The whole thing was a trap," he says, staring Meg down. She's sat near a table, the moonlight slitting through the old shutters of the boarded-up window in the wall. Still, she's fairly visible. "Running into you at the bar, following you here...hearing what you had to say. It was all a setup, wasn't it? And the victims that were from Lawrence?"

"Kat," Dean murmurs. They aren't far from each other. She barely tilts her head towards him; she's mostly shrouded in the shadows. "You okay?"

"Yeah. Are you?" He shrugs as an answer. Katherine lets out a breath between her pursed lips, resting her head back on the support beam. She sees the damage when he tilts his head to look at Sam. The right side of his face is cut up, blood trailing down his cheek and neck, branching off and making a total mess of things, staining his shirt. Sam looks a whole world worse than his older brother.

"It was just to draw you in, that's all," Meg says to Sam.

"You killed those two people for nothing."

"Baby, I've killed a lot more for a lot less," she purrs.

"You trapped us," Dean says. "Good for you—it's Miller time. Why don't you kill us already?"

"Not very quick on the uptake, are we?" Meg sighs and leans forward. "This trap isn't for you."

"Dad," Sam whispers. "It's a trap for dad."

"Oh, sweetheart," Dean chuckles. "You're dumber than you look. 'Cause even if Dad was in town—which he's not—he wouldn't walk into something like this. He's too good."

"He is pretty good," Meg admits, nodding, and crosses over to Dean. "But you see," she says, crouching before him. Katherine tugs on her ropes. "He has one weakness."

"And what's that?"

She runs her palm down his jacket with a soft smile. "You. He lets his guard down around his boys, lets his emotions cloud his judgment." She leans forward, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial murmur. "I happen to know he is in town, and he'll come here and try to save you." Meg twists around to look at Katherine, still hovering over Dean's lap. "Too bad we don't have Daddy Donovan to sweeten the deal."

Katherine lets out a laugh. "Lady..." She has no words, so she just shakes her head and laughs again. "You ain't findin' that guy."

"I know," Meg tuts. "He's particularly difficult to locate."

"Why are you doing this, Meg?" Sam asks. "What kind of deal you got worked out here, huh? And with who?"

"I'm doing this for the same reasons you do what you do," she snaps. "Loyalty, love. Like the love you had for Mommy. And Jess."

"Go to hell."

"Baby, I'm already there." Katherine watches Meg crawl over to the younger Winchester. "Come on, Sam. There's no need to be nasty." Her voice is too low for Katherine to hear on the other side of the room. Katherine slowly moves her right leg up, extending her hip as she draws her foot nearer to her grasp. Dean shakes his head and nods to the collection of weapons in a pile on the table in the middle of the room, where Meg sat. Katherine clenches her jaw and shifts her left arm repeatedly, as if she's moving something from her bra. Dean shakes his head again and Katherine's brow wrinkles. Dean shrugs.

I've been violated by a psycho bitch, she thinks to herself, shaking her head.

Sam head-butts Meg and throws her off of him, letting out a groan as he clutches his forehead. "Sam, get the altar," Dean barks, and Sam does what he's told. He flips the table over, destroying the arrangement of whatever is required to summon a daeva.

The daevas descend from the shadows—they're invisible, only seen in the form of shadows on the wall, as they drag Meg by the ankles to the other side of the room and launch her out of the window.

Sam cuts Dean free first, then Katherine, and the young woman stands up, disgruntled. The boys move for the window and Katherine collects her weapons.

"You look like you went a few rounds with a starved lion," she pants, glancing to Sam as she loads her gun up.

He chuckles. "You obviously haven't seen yourself."

"How the hell did you get free?" She demands, replacing her knives.

"Stiletto blade," Sam tells her. "Harder to detect."

"I'll keep that in mind," the girl hums.

"You keep a knife in your bra?" Dean asks. Katherine shrugs.

"You never knew when a dude's gonna get too grabby."  She checks her magazine and reloads it, tucking the handgun into the back of her jeans. "Oh, and Sam?" He turns to her with a curious brow. "I know we're borderline psychotics ourselves, but the next time you want to get laid, try to find a girl who's not so many buckets of crazy."

Sam lets her take the front seat and steals her bag from her shoulder. Dean watches the blood on her neck glisten in the moonlight, her exposed throat bobbing with her strong pulse. "You sure you're okay?" Dean asks.

Katherine nods a bit. "I'll be fine," she murmurs. "My back hurts the most. Kind of past the point of burning. Makes me want to stab myself in the knee, though. Maybe a couple dozen times." Dean lets out a quiet chuckle, turning his gaze back to the vacant street ahead. Katherine smiles a bit, eyes closed, as Dean's fingertips probe her hand and wrap comfortably between hers. A small squeeze, comforting. 

✕

"Why didn't you leave all of that stuff in the car?"

"Better safe than sorry," Katherine says, grunting as she hoists the bag over her back. "Feels like the damn thing tore my back up." Dean reaches over and takes the bag from her shoulder. She begins to protest, but closes her mouth.

Dean would win that argument anyway.

He unlocks the motel room door and nudges it open. A tall, dark figure stands at the window, and Katherine immediately draws her gun.

"Hey," Dean barks. Sam flicks on the lights and the man at the window turns around with a small smile.

He's tall, with disheveled short dark hair and scruffy. Vaguely familiar.

"Dad."

Katherine blinks and puts her gun away, and the man smiles. "Hey, boys," he says. Katherine glances to the Winchester brothers before moving her eyes back to the man himself—John Winchester.

She doesn't remember much about him. She only met the Winchesters once before Dean stole her away, after all. John looks the same, just a little grayer.

Katherine stays in the doorway as Dean moves towards his father, wrapping the man up in a hug in the middle of the room. Sam hesitantly moves towards them, dragging his feet. "Hi, Sam," John says.

"Hey, Dad."

John turns around, eyes moving to Katherine, and the brothers do the same. She suddenly feels very uneasy, shifting her feet. The bloodied girl looks nervous, hands tucked into her back pockets as she glances between Dean and John.

"Dad, this is Katherine Louise," Dean says. He's smiling a little.

"The Donovan girl?" John asks. Katherine nods, stepping forward with a brief smile. "You sure grew up."

"Understatement of the century," she chuckles, reaching forward to shake his hand. Katherine swallows, tucking her hands into her back pockets. "I—I have to ask...my dad. Do you, uh...know anyth—"

"No." John shakes his head. After a moment, Katherine nods, looking down to her feet. John and Dean share a mirrored expression, a little knowing, perhaps a little guilty for what they're keeping from her.

"Dad, it was a trap," Dean says. "I didn't know. I'm sorry."

"It's all right. I thought it might have been."

"Were you there?"

"I got there just in time to see the girl take the swan dive. She was the bad guy, right?"

"Yes, sir," the brothers chorus.

"Good. Well, it doesn't surprise me. It's tried to stop me before."

"The demon has?" Sam asks, shifting on his feet. Katherine is a silent spectator, standing close behind Dean's shoulder. His hand moves around his back, discreetly, and he squeezes her own. Katherine clings to his fingers, her vision going a bit blurry.

"It knows I'm close," John says. "It knows I'm gonna kill it. Not just exorcise it or send it back to hell—actually kill it."

Katherine frowns. "How?" She asks.

John smiles. "I'm working on that."

Dean can tell Katherine isn't quite satisfied with his answer. She's never liked getting half of the story. He's known that from the get-go.

"Let us come with you," Sam says. Dean gives him a look that Katherine judges to be scolding. "We'll help."

John shakes his head. "No, Sam. Not yet. Try to understand, this demon is a scary son of a bitch. I don't want you caught in the crossfire. I don't want you hurt."

"Dad, you don't have to worry about us."

"Of course I do. I'm your father." A brief silence falls over the four. "Listen, Sammy...the last time we were together, we had one hell of a fight."

His voice sounds a little choked as he answers. "Yes sir."

"It's good to see you again. It...it's been a long time."

After a moment, Sam nods. "Too long." Katherine rubs her temple, glancing away as the two embrace. There's a lump in her throat, and she can't help but think of losing her dad, not being able to see him again.

Of being alone.

Even if she did hate him.

Dean couldn't be happier. They're safe, for the moment. All of them. A little mutilated, a little mangled, but not dead. An important distinction. He's got his girl. Sam and his father seem to have forgiven each other for what happened a few years before Katherine was in the equation. Before she was an Honorary Winchester. It feels damn good, watching his father and brother together. Hopeful. Like maybe, when this is all done, they'll be a family again. A bigger one. Katherine can stick around. Dean can protect her. He can protect all of them.

Suddenly, John is yanked—or shoved—backward, and Sam is up next.

Shadows on the wall. The daevas are still here. And they're about to ruin it all.

"No!"

One daeva is on John. Another is at Sam. Another at Katherine, drawing loud, pained shouts from between her teeth. It isn't shrill. It's God-awful and torturous. She's helpless, defenseless, against this invisible assailant.

Katherine is somehow dragged into the other room, separate from the Winchesters, and pinned to the wall by her throat as the Daeva goes to town with its torture. She can't breathe, and if she can't breathe she can't scream. Not that she would scream anyways. So the pain is internalized. And if Dean can't hear her scream, he doesn't know she's hurting—badly.

"Shut your eyes!" Sam shouts, squirming for one of the duffle bags. Katherine does as she's told, clawing at her throbbing throat, and she sees a burst of bright white light from behind her eyelids before everything does dark.

"Katherine!" The smoke is dense and refracts the white light of the flare. There's no answer. Dean hauls himself to his feet, using the wall as a support. "Katherine!" His shoe catches on something, and he manages to keep himself from falling. Katherine is on the ground before him, looking bloodier than he remembers.

Dean shakes her head, gently gripping her chin. "Kat!" He coughs, turning his head away from her. "Katherine!"

Her blue eyes open slowly. She's disoriented as Dean picks her up, her head resting heavily on Dean's shoulder as he stumbles through the flare's smoke. Sam has their dad, leading him out of the room and dragging the other duffle bag behind him.

Katherine's eyes can't focus; her vision is blurred as she tries to fixate on the person beside her. The strong jaw and high cheekbones, disheveled light brown hair, bloodied skin. The bright white light is a bit disorienting, too. "Heaven?" She croaks.

"Hell no," Dean answers. Her fingers tighten around his shirt collar as they descend the stairs; it's difficult to keep her eyes open. She doesn't believe him, though. The bright light, being close to him. It seems like a dream.

"C'mon, we don't have much time," Sam says, ushering Dean down the alleyway to their cars. "As soon as the flare's out, they'll be back."

"Wait, wait!" Dean cries. "Sam, wait!" He swallows, adjusting his grip on an in-and-out-of-consciousness Katherine Donovan. It hurts like hell, what he's about to do. It's all too dangerous. His selfishness is set aside, and for once, he thinks about what's best for everyone. Not what he wants, but what's best. And that includes for Katherine, too. His father is well enough. He can stand upright, he can have a conversation. Katherine is barely conscious. He can't let her go just yet. "Dad, you can't come with us."

"What?" Sam asks. "What are you talking about?"

"You boys—you're beat to hell, and the poor girl—" Everyone glances to Katherine.

"Hey," she squeaks, a deep furrow forming between her brow.

"We'll be all right," Dean says.

"Dean, we should stick together!" Sam says, watching his brother round to the other side of the Impala. Dean opens the passenger door and sets Katherine inside. "We'll go after those demons—"

"Sam, listen to me!" Katherine jerks, eyes opening a bit at the sudden volume of Dean's voice. "We almost got Dad killed in there. We almost got Katherine killed! Don't you understand? They're not gonna stop. They're gonna try again and they're gonna use us to get to him. Meg was right. Dad's vulnerable when he's with us. He...he's stronger without us around."

Sam shakes his head. "No."

"Katherine," Dean mutters.

"Hmm."

"Where are your keys?"

"Hmm?"

"Your car keys." His voice is sharp and demanding. It reminds her of how her father spoke to her...and her feelings are hurt. Somehow, between all of the chaos, she's still capable of having her feelings hurt. 

"I, um..." Misty-eyed, she moves lightly to get into her pocket, but Dean beats her to it, fishing her car keys from her jeans. She sits up suddenly, looking disoriented. "Hey," she squeaks, glancing down to her jeans. "The—what are you doing?" Her breathing is a little labored. Dean moves to the Impala and sets her in the front seat. Her eyes are barely watching his hands, but focusing more on his face. It's pained. She can feel it, too. The conflict bubbling within him. She feels like she's at a crossroads. Anxiety lumping in her throat.

It was all too good. Too hopeful, and Dean knew it. That's how things worked in his life. When there was a glimpse of light at the end of the tunnel, it was snuffed out. Stolen from him.

"Hey," Katherine murmurs. He's fiddling with her seatbelt. "Dean." He stops, glancing up at her. Though his face is covered with all sorts of bloody stickiness, she reaches over to him and rests her palm on the side of his face. "I don't know what you're thinking, but don't...don't do anything brash. We're okay, we're all okay—" He briefly presses his mouth to hers, eyes shut tight. She grips his collar, his urgency becoming her own. It's so overpowering she's almost crying. But it's Dean. It's all Dean. 

And whatever it is...this anticipation, this dread...it's killing her.

Dean shuts the door on her and rounds to the other side of the car. "This fight is just starting," John says. "And we're all going to have a part to play. For now, you've got to trust me, son. Okay? You've got to let me go."

After a moment, Sam claps his father on the shoulder before dropping his hand. John Winchester starts away from the boys and to a black truck just up ahead. "Be careful boys," he says, and looks to the front seat of the Impala, where Katherine Donovan sits, struggling to keep everything together. "You take care of her." Dean nods once, and the brothers both watch their father's black truck start out of the alley.

Katherine stares at the receding vehicle, chest heaving with her anxious breaths. Tears from her pain and anticipation, the anxiety of the situation, teem at her eyelids. She racks her brain for any supporting evidence. John is gone. Is she next? Are the Winchesters throwing themselves into their hyper-vigilant 'push everyone as far away from me as possible' moods? Is it Dean? What happened in the motel room?

The last thing she remembers is watching John get thrown into the wall.

"Sam, could you drive her car?" Dean asks, holding the keys out for his younger brother. After a moment, Sam takes the keys and climbs into the Charger.

Katherine sucks in a deep breath, trying to remain calm as Dean slips into the car. "Are you okay?" She can't force herself to speak. Not for a moment.

"Why does it feel like the end?" She murmurs, staring out at the street as Dean drives. She doesn't know where they're going. She just knows it feels an awful lot like the end. An end. And Dean didn't answer her, so she asks something else. Something to distract her from the rising panic in her chest and throat. Panic, panic, panic, that of course, finally, it's all coming to an ugly head. Her content with her life. Hell, perhaps it's happiness. She's accepted the awful situation that is her life. On the road, no real close connections. Except Dean. But she can feel it like an animal can feel the storm before it happens. "What happened?" She asks finally, her throat raw.

"The Daevas came back," he tells her. "I didn't see what happened to you...must've passed out or something and thought you died."

Katherine's brow wrinkles. "Why do you say that?"

Dean chuckles. "'Cause you thought you were in Heaven."

She stares out of the windshield at the fading city lights. The word rattles a dim bell. Then she smirks. "Oh."

"Oh?"

"Oh," Katherine repeats.

"What's that mean?"

"I remember that part," she nods a bit. "It's not my fault—there was a white light. I thought I was being taken somewhere by a beautiful angel."

"You think I'm beautiful?"

"Angelically so," she taunts. In a quick motion, she reaches over to grab his hand. Her anxieties are only mildly comforted as he squeezes back with just as much force as she has. Because it could mean one of two things: he's assuring her. I'm here, it could say. Or he's saying goodbye.