"So you told Charlie."

She wasn't surprised Dean didn't speak to her for a few days following whatever happened in Ohio with the trickster—though she still had her questions. She wasn't even surprised he decided to break his silence towards her, because he always squeals at one point or another. The nature of his silence break, though, was surprising....and that he referred to her boyfriend by "Charlie."

"Yes," Katherine said. "And Sophia." Dean's brow shot up. "And they are still speaking to me," she continued, answering his silent question. He could sense the tension in her voice.

"You don't have to leave them, you know," Dean told her. "You can stay. Protect them."

She shook her head. "I'm protecting them by leaving," she murmured. "The closer I am to them, the closer I bring them to any demon or creature that comes after me. I told them what to do to protect themselves. And we have an agreement."

"Agreement?"

Katherine nodded. "Whenever I'm close, I'll swing by for a visit." She smiled a bit.

"And Charlie's okay with that?" Katherine barely shrugged. "He's okay with you road tripping, hunting evil things, with a couple of guys?"

"He trusts me," Katherine said. "And he knows I never belonged in Haley. Not like that, anyway." Dean frowned a little. "What?"

He shook his head. "Nothin'. Just seemed like it was your kinda thing. Apple pie life—"

Katherine couldn't help the incoming eye roll.
"Oh, don't you start—"

"The good job, the house. Hell, you've got a boyfriend and a kid—"

"Julien's not my kid. I told you that."

"Well you could have kids," Dean murmured. "And I've just gone and screwed up whatever chance of a normal life you had—"

"Stop with the kicking yourself in the shin thing, all right?" Katherine snapped. "You don't have so much power over me to decide the way I live my life. From the start, Dean, you knew where I stood. I know where I belong. I thought you understood that."

Dean sighed and then nodded. "Right. Sorry." He taps his fingers against the counter top. "He took it well, then?"

"Yeah," she murmured. "He thought it was kind of badass, actually. I mean, aside from the bullet thing. He even made me soup."

Then he started talking to her more after that. Things started to feel like they had before. It was fun. They laughed and joked, stayed up late and snorted at each other. He teased her still for Charlie's phone calls—especially on Valentine's Day. She ran right out of their case briefing to talk to him, all smiles and pink-cheeked and generally, annoyingly, smitten. In love, probably. She was still wearing that blissful expression when she returned.

The thought made Dean's stomach turn. So to distract himself, he runs through the case again.

"So this lawyer guy," he begins. "First heart-free corpse in town?"

"He's the first man," Sam revises, pulling a chair over near the bed Dean is sat at. He and Katherine are cleaning their pistols, careful to not mix their parts. "The past year, several women have gone missing. Their corpses all washed up in San Francisco's bay area too deteriorated to draw any conclusions."

"But no hearts," Katherine hums, loading her slide into place. She grins widely at the smoothness of it. What with her beretta being completely ruined from her fall into the freezing waters of Lake Superior last month, she had to get a new gun, and she had never been more thankful for Dean.

She felt like a kid in a candy store in Reuben's shop in Arizona. She hadn't seen him in years, but he had a good working relationship with her father. The last Reuben and Katherine saw each other, she was picking out her own gun for the first time. She was fourteen. Reuben showed her this one.

A Colt 1911, Special Combat carry. Dark gray body, black grip, silver trigger. She loved it instantly. Katherine purchased a whole new batch of silver bullets and standard bullets, all in .45 for her new baby.

And Dean wasn't allowed to touch it.

"No hearts," Sam echoes, nodding, and glances over her as she smiles, reassembling her gun. "You need some alone time?"

"Oh, I'm fine." Katherine smirks. "Anyway, those women—they have anything in common?"

"They were all hookers at Hunter's Point. The cops are trying to keep things under wraps, but they're looking for a serial killer." Katherine's brows wiggle.

"Lunar cycle?" She asks. Sam nods.

"Month after month, all of the murders happened in the week leading up to the full moon."

"Which is this week," Katherine sighs. "Hence the lawyer."

"Awesome," Dean murmurs, smiling. She chuckles.

"Dean, could you be a bigger geek about this?" Sam questions.

"I'm sorry, man, but what about a human by day, freak animal killing machine by moonlight don't you understand?" Dean asks. "Werewolves are badass, just ask Katherine."

"Katherine's biased," Sam grunts. "Werewolf was her first kill."

"Still badass," Katherine hums.

"We haven't seen one since we were kids!" Dean continues.

Katherine frowns. "That long?" She questions. Dean shrugs.

"When's the last time you ganked one?"

She hesitates. "July," she sheepishly answers, turning back to her gun.

"What?! Where?!"

"Mobile," she answers with a frown. "Okay, tell you what. After we kill it, we can go to Disneyland."

"Know what the best part about this is?" Dean asks, staring down at the box of silver bullets that have yet to be loaded—the same ones Katherine purchased with her newest weapon. "We already know how to bring these suckers down."

"So what's our next move?" Katherine sighs, stealing a few bullets from the box, and begins to load her magazine.

"Talk to the girl who found the body," Sam answers.

✕

"This is my neighbor Glenn. Glenn, this is..." Madison, the latest victim's assistant—and the girl who discovered the body—turns to the three hunters with a curious brow.

"Detective Winnfield," Katherine says, then points to Dean. "Landis," she gestures to Sam. "And Dante."

"Right," Glenn says, rubbing his hands together. He has a beard and large dark eyes. He seems a little squirrelly. "I'll leave you to it, then."

"Thanks for the casserole," Madison says as Glenn passes.

"Just call if you need anything," he says, and with that, he's gone.

"He's sweet," Madison explains to the hunters. "He came over to check on me. Uh...have a seat." Katherine files to the table beside Sam, and Dean sits on the other side of his brother.

"You must be pretty shaken up," Katherine says, pulling her chair up to the table. "You were Nate Mulligan's assistant, right?"

"For two years, yeah."

"So you knew all about him," Dean says.

"Probably knew more about him than he did," Madison chuckles. "Nate was...he was nice." Katherine's brow raises.

"But?" she prompts.

"Nothing, really," Madison says with a bit of a bashful smile. "You get a few scotches in 'em, and he starts hitting on anyone in a five mile radius, ya know?"

"Yeah," Katherine dryly hums, shooting a glance to a jovial Dean. "I do, actually." Sam smirks, and Dean glowers once he catches on.

"Did he have any enemies?" Sam asks.

"What do you mean? It sure looked like an animal attack."

"Just covering all of the bases," he assures her. "Anyone that might've had something against him? Former client..." Madison's expression shifts to something of realization. "Ex—what?"

"This is embarrassing," Madison says. "But my ex-boyfriend, Kurt."

"Kurt have a last name?" Dean asks.

"Mueller." Katherine writes that down. "After we broke up, he kind of went nuts. He's...well, he's kind of been stalking me. He got it in his head that something was going on between Nate and I, and he showed up at my office; Kurt got into it with Nate, threw a punch before security grabbed him. I was lucky to keep my job."

"When was the last time you saw Kurt?"

"A few nights ago. Actually, the night Nate died. We were all grabbing drinks at this bar, and Kurt showed up."

"And?" Katherine presses.

Madison shrugs. "Nothing. It was...like he was watching me, then he was gone. To tell you the truth, he scares me."

"You got an address for 'em?"

After retrieving that address, the hunters retreat. "So what do you think?" Dean asks.

"Stalker ex-boyfriend," Sam guesses. "He hates the boss, and he was there that night."

"Doesn't it seem a little obvious, though?" Katherine asks with a slight grimace.

"Don't," Dean says, pointing to her. "Not everything has to be a days-long hunt. This can be easy!"

"Fine, fine," she acquiesces. "We'll check him out." She lowers herself into the backseat of the Impala and scoots to the middle seat.

Luckily, night falls just before the hunters reach Kurt's apartment. They're loaded up to the neck in silver, back-ups to the back-ups.

"Anything?" Dean asks, moving from Kurt's bedroom.

"Nothin' but leftovers and a six pack," Katherine hums, shutting the refrigerator.

"Check the freezer," he tells her. "Maybe there are some human hearts hiding behind the Haagen-Dasz or something." She snorts, turning to the top compartment. Outside the window, something creaks, like the iron staircase that scales the side of the building. Dean goes after it first, stepping out onto the ledge. "Kat—c'mere." She cautiously follows after him, ducking to the best of her ability underneath that window, and she stares in the direction Dean nods.

There are scratch marks, deep ones, in the concrete wall to the left of the ledge, and they lead all the way down to the top of the doorway that leads into the apartment courtyard.

"Maybe it leads somewhere," she hums. There's rustling in the garbage cans on the ground, and Katherine bolts, flying back into the apartment and out of the door. She doesn't trust herself enough to scale the side of the building like the Winchesters can. Her shoulder isn't up to speed just yet, and she isn't willing to gamble her strength with her fear of heights.

Dean stands up from the police officer's body with a heavy sigh just as she rounds the corner, lips pressed together and breathing through her nose, holding a hand to her protesting ribs. "While you were inside, we heard a dog barking."

"A dog?" She winces, then Dean gestures to the mauled police officer. "Or werewolf?"

"We're thinkin' Kurt's looking more and more like our Cujo."

"Then we have to make sure Madison's okay," Katherine says, trying hard to not breathe too heavily.

"We'd better get out of here quick," Sam says. "I just got off the phone with the police."

Katherine nods the two out of the alley and they quickly start for the Impala. Sitting down for fifteen minutes is a welcomed break. Seeing as it's the middle of the night, the hunters opt to wait outside Madison's apartment building for a couple of hours. Then at eight AM sharp, the hunters are knocking on her door, and Glenn is quite aware of it. The second Dean dropped his hand from the wood, Glenn popped his head out.

"What's going on?" He asks.

Katherine's eyes narrow a bit. "Official business," she answers, and the door swings open.

"Hi," Madison cautiously greets, glancing over the three hunters. She's dressed in her night robe. "Is everything all right?"

"Perhaps we should talk in private," Katherine suggests, nodding her head back a bit towards Glenn. Madison invites them all inside.

"You look like you could use some coffee," Madison says. Dean and Sam happily oblige, but Katherine doesn't take any.

"Has Kurt been here?" Sam asks.

"Not exactly," she answers, pouring him a hot cup. Katherine's brows raise, prompting the older woman to continue. "He was outside last night, just...looking at me. Has he done something?"

"We're not sure," Dean tells her.

"It's probably nothing," Katherine adds. "But we don't want to take any chances. One of us should probably stay with you, just in case he stops by. Where does he work?"

"He owns a body shop," Madison answers.

"Can I get an address?" The assistant nods and moves out of the kitchen.

"You two go," Sam murmurs. "I'll stay."

"Forget that," Dean scoffs. "You go after the creepy ex. I'm gonna hang here with the hot chick."

Katherine rolls her eyes, leaning against the counter. "Don't you think the physically indisposed should do the least work?" She drawls.

"Your choice to come back out on the road, sweetheart," Dean hums, raising his cup to his lips with a smirk.

"Dean, if I have to tell you one more time to stop using that name you give to every common bimbo you meet at the bars, I will dislocate your shoulder."

"Why do you always get to hang out with the girls?" Sam asks.

"Because I'm older," Dean retorts.

"No, screw that."

"Easy resolution," Katherine says. "Let the girl hang out with the girl. You both have ulterior motives."

"I'm offended," Dean says, holding a hand over his heart.

She flashes him an insincere frown. "I'm sure you'll get over it."

"We're settling this the old-fashioned way," Sam insists, stealing Dean's coffee mug, and sets it on the countertop beside Katherine. The woman's brows furrow and she stares at Sam as he raises his fist. "C'mon, Kat."

"What the hell are you doing?" She asks. Then she watches Dean square his shoulders, flex his jaw and do that stupid lip purse thing he does, and hold his fist above his cupped palm. "You are not playing rock-paper-scissors."

"Get in on it," Sam says through his teeth. Katherine sighs, flexing her elbows to adjust her jacket, leans away from the counter, and stands straight. She glances between the two brothers, and on a silent cue, they all start hitting their fists to their palms. One, two, three—

Katherine—rock.

Sam—rock.

Dean—scissors.

"Dean," Sam sighs, shaking his head. "Always with the scissors."

"Two out of three," Dean insists.

"I haven't even lost yet," Katherine defends. Dean puts his fist back up, and again, chooses scissors. Katherine and Sam stuck to the same, too.

And then the moment of truth. Sam lost first round. Katherine lost second round. And then the third.

She rolls her tongue over her teeth and glances between the Winchesters. "Grown ass men," she grumbles, and Madison enters the kitchen with a slip of paper.

"Here's that address," she says, handing it to Katherine.

"Thanks. Uh...Sam's gonna stay and look after you." With that, Katherine gives the two her usual two-fingered salute and starts for the door.

The body shop is about half an hour away. Kurt hasn't been at work all week, but the two hunters were able to get a lead. Dean accused her of manipulation, but she reasoned that it's no different from what he does at the bars to get something out of a waitress.

She uses what she knows she's good at. Like The Dazzle.

"So," Dean starts.

"Oh, God," Katherine hums.

He smiles with her. "What?"

"Anything that begins with 'so,' from Dean Winchester is bound to be uncomfortable."

"Not true," Dean claims. "I could've been asking you if you're hungry."

"Wha—you never ask that because you always know the answer," she chuckles.

"Fine," Dean hums. "It's still early enough for breakfast." Katherine glances to her watch—it's just past ten thirty—and chuckles.

"Your call, man," she says, shaking her head.

"Oh, so suddenly you're against breakfast? You loved breakfast."

Her smile fades a bit. "And then I was put on the fast track to private practice, and suddenly, I only had time for an orange."

"Sounds awful."

Katherine smiles a little. "Only recently."

They pop into a small corner shop for breakfast sandwiches. Avocado, bacon, two scrambled eggs, cheese, all on a buttermilk biscuit.

"So," Dean again begins, and Katherine laughs, walking up the street with him.

At a quick glance, they seem close, walking arm-to-arm with little space between their jackets. She's smiling as she stares ahead and he's smiling down at her. To label them 'couple' could perhaps be reaching, but if you looked close enough at his face, anyone could see it.

"How'd you meet Charlie?" Dean asks.

"You really wanna know?" Katherine asks, thumbing a bit of avocado into her mouth. Dean shrugs noncommittally. "There's not much to it. It was right after Soph and I moved down. She just had Julien, and I went out to a country bar across town. He perused me, relentlessly, for a month before I gave him my number. Rest is history." Katherine shrugs, taking another bite.

"So you've been together since then, huh?"

She nods. "He's really a great guy...works in construction, knows how to have fun...I think you'd like him." Dean makes a face. Katherine rolls her eyes and tosses the last of her biscuit into her mouth before washing it down with a pull of water.

"Maybe we shouldn't talk about Charlie anymore," she murmurs, quickening her footsteps. "Kurt's at a strip club, right?" She glances to her watch. "I'm not stepping foot in a joint like that, so can I trust you to keep an eye on him?"

"Oh absolutely." But his heart sinks a little, and he glances to his right, eyes darting over her familiar face. "What are you gonna do?"

"Wait outside," she shrugs.

"Well what if it's a several hour wait?"

She throws him an exasperated look. "Dean."

"Fine, fine."

It was a few hours' wait, but Dean called the second Kurt left, and the two hunters followed him around town for the rest of the day before he eventually retired after sundown.

Katherine lets out a heavy sigh, leaning up against the dumpster against her better judgement, and checks her rounds of silver before pulling back on her slide and concealing her gun again.

Those hours of silence were so uncharacteristic of her and Dean. She knew why he was quiet and generally unresponsive to her questions, so there was nothing to talk about. He didn't offer any more hunting stories from the past several months, and he didn't seem interested in what she had to say, so they shut it and carried on with their business. It hurt.

Kurt's living room window shatters, drawing the attention of both hunters. "What the hell?" Katherine sprints forward and scales the building the fastest she can, adrenaline masking most of her pain. "Go around the front!" Katherine calls to Dean, and he takes off around the corner.

The second she pulled herself into the living room, hammer cocked, she was thrown up against the wall, gun tossed to the side.

It's Madison, hands bloodied and teeth sharpened, like canines, with bright yellow eyes. Madison lunges and Katherine swipes a silver knife from inside her jacket, swinging her arm around to defend herself. Madison yowls and takes off out of the window just as Dean bursts through the front door.

"What the hell happened?" He asks, but Katherine doesn't answer. After a moment of looking, he finds her unconscious on the floor. "Katherine!" He kneels at her side and gently shakes her. When she doesn't answer still, Dean presses his fingers into her throat and checks for any bodily damage. No cuts or bruises, no bites. So it's a waiting game. Dean silently paces around the apartment, and half an hour later, the sun has risen on another day.

Katherine grunts, carefully sitting away from the wall, and pries her eyes open. "Mornin', sunshine," Dean says. She squints, shielding her eyes from the sun, and her eyes settle on a bloodied Kurt. It sends her into a thrashing panic, pushing her spine flat against the wall. "Hey, hey, hey—you're all right." Katherine runs her hands through her hair, disheveling her fringe, and carefully pulls herself to her feet. "Do you remember anything?"

"Madison," she says, pulling her phone from her pocket, and dials Sam's number.

"Hey," he greets. "Everything—"

"No time," she says, stepping around Kurt's body to get a better look at him. "Sam, Madison's the werewolf."

"What?" His tone is disbelieving.

"Yeah, awesome job of keeping an eye on her," she sourly snaps. "The bitch knocked me out and tore Kurt apart."

"Kat, I've been here the whole time," he murmurs. "She's in bed, asleep."

"Well she wasn't a freaking hour ago," Katherine grumbles, looking at her watch. "Check her, uh...right arm, her forearm. I got 'er with a silver knife." Sam hangs up and she growls, shoving her phone back into her pocket. "C'mon," she says to Dean. "Did you touch anything? Wipe your prints. Aw, Dean, you kicked the door in?!" She hisses, grabbing the end of her jacket, and scrubs the soot from his boot print off of the wood.

It's a quick drive back to the house Madison's a tenant in. Katherine quickly knocks on the door, and when Sam doesn't answer, she knocks again, with more urgency. He pulls on the door, and Katherine breathes a sigh of relief.

"Dude, seriously?" She asks, gesturing to the chain between the frame and the door. He shuts the door, draws the chain, and opens the door again. Dean and Katherine file into the apartment, and Sam locks the door up once more. "Howdy," she greets, flashing Madison a smile. The girl is tied to one of her kitchen chairs. "My head's great, thanks."

"We've gotta talk," Sam murmurs. Dean nudges Katherine and nods her off to the side. The young woman sighs and follows the brothers into the other room.

"So I take it you gave her the 'you're a werewolf' speech," Katherine hums.

"Madison has no idea what I'm talking about," Sam says to the other two.

Katherine scoffs. "Well, uh, she's lying."

"Or maybe she really doesn't know she's changing." Dean and Katherine's brows shoot up, mirroring expressions of 'come again?' "Maybe when the creature takes over, she blacks out."

"Like a really hot incredible hulk?" Dean asks.

"She killed her ex and her boss," Katherine points out in a scoff. "That doesn't sound rash and unconscious."

"But what if it was?" Sam pushes. "What if some animal part of her brain saw those guys as threats?"

"And the cop?"

"Hell, maybe the cop, too."

Katherine's brow furrowed and her eyes narrow. "What are you, a dog whisperer now?"

Sam sighs, standing up straighter.

Since Katherine's come back, she's been...difficult. With both of the Winchesters. A little more smart to him, and he's not used to it. It's frustrating. "Look, I just—I don't know." He shrugs. "There was something in her eyes."

"Yeah, she's killing people," Dean hisses. Katherine motions to him in a sarcastic 'thank you!' gesture.

"But if she has no control—"

"Exactly!" Katherine says through her teeth. "She can't control it! Even if she is telling the truth, it's not gonna change a thing. We aren't exactly in the best position to set her up with some Werewolves Anonymous support group, all right?"

"I'm not putting a bullet through some girl who has no idea what she's doing," Sam declares.

"Sam, she's a monster," Katherine hisses, standing toe to toe with him. "Are you feeling sorry for her?"

"Maybe I understand her." Katherine sways a bit, taking a step back with a perplexed expression. "There might be another way to get the job done without having to waste her."

"Like what?" She quietly asks, throwing her hands up as Sam starts away. She grunts, dropping her left shoulder, and rolls it a bit. She looks to Dean with raised brows. "Sam's off his rocker."

"Lycanthropy might have a cure," Sam says, turning around to face Katherine and Dean, and the huntresses' expression falls flat.

"You are not putting stock in that," she scoffs.

Sam shrugs. "It's in my dad's journal—kill the werewolf who bit you."

"Dude, no one knows if that's actually true, and I really don't wanna hang around to see if it is," Katherine says. "And if it was true, don't you think we would've heard it by now?"

"No, because of hunters like you and Dean who shoot first and ask questions later." Katherine rocks back onto her heels.

"I can't believe you just said that," she mutters, leaning against the cabinets.

"It's true," Sam says. "I don't know what happened to you, but you weren't always like this. You were the kind of hunter who wanted to help people—"

"Yeah, help people, not monsters," she hisses.

"What if we could do both?" Sam asks. Katherine shakes her head, exhaling through flared nostrils. Her muscles quake with the urge to hit him in the face—just this once.

"We don't even know where to look!" She cries, and bites on her lower lip to prevent another outburst.

"Kat's right," Dean says. "The puppy who bit her could be anyone, anywhere. Could've been years ago!"

Sam's expression drops. "No," he says. "I don't think so." Katherine's expression crumples.

"Oh, what is with you?" She asks, rubbing her temple. "What the hell are you goin' on about?" Sam rushes back into the living area, leaving Dean and Katherine in the kitchen. "Dude." Dean shrugs, following Sam outside.

"Madison, when were you mugged?" She glowers at the hunters. "Please?" Sam presses. "It's important."

"About a month ago," she answers.

"Did you see who did it?"

"No. He grabbed me from behind."

"Did he bite you?"

Madison glances between the hunters, her eyes settling on Sam. "How did you know that?"

"Where?" Sam presses.

"On the back of my neck." Sam moves forward and carefully sweeps Madison's hair off of the back of her neck. Katherine and Dean crane their necks to get a look.

"Oh, that's just a love bite," Dean hums. "Coulda been a lot worse."

"Where were you at the time?" Katherine asks.

"Walking home from a friend's loft," Madison answers.

"Not too far from Hunter's Point?" Madison nods. Katherine nods the Winchesters back into the kitchen, and they shut the double doors behind them. "That's where those other murders happened."

"I'm telling you," Sam begins. "It's the werewolf's hunting grounds."

"Well that doesn't mean it's gonna be out there tonight," Dean points out.

"It's the right time of the lunar cycle. Look, I know it's a long shot—"

"You're forgetting something," Katherine quietly says. "Madison's gonna turn soon. Dean and I can go back downtown and comb the place, but what if we don't find anything?"

"Then I'll shoot her," Sam says. "Just—look. Please. We can save this girl."

Katherine lets out a heavy sigh, rubbing her scalp. "You two give me headaches," she murmurs, starting for the doors.

It's an hour and a half drive back into downtown usually, but it's slower with the traffic. Katherine leans her head on the door of the Impala, arms crossed. She's not exactly content with the silence, though Lynyrd Skynyrd is playing over the radio. She and Dean were never this quiet around each other. So she does the one thing she knows he won't ignore.

"Oranges or bananas?" She asks. Dean frowns.

"Oranges," he answers. Katherine smiles a bit. "Fudge or caramel?" He asks. Katherine sits up, rubbing her thumb across her lower lip in contemplation. "Three seconds, Donovan," he warns.

"Caramel," she answers, grinning. "Popcorn or candy?"

"Popcorn," he easily answers. "Cake or pie?" She almost doesn't hear his question over her joy. Dean turns his head to her expectantly.

"I guess it depends on the pie," she says. "But...cake." Dean shakes his head and she chuckles softly. She tugs on her lower lip as she thinks, and Dean watches her. He watches her thumb run over the smooth, pink surface of her flesh, dragging just a bit, and he tears his eyes from her back to the slowly-crawling traffic. He remembers the taste of her lips, the gentle drag of them against his skin. More explicit, less innocent things. The memory makes him shiver. "Crushed or cubed ice?"

Dean frowns for a moment. He'd never thought of his preference on that before. "Crushed," he tells her. "Tie or no tie?"

A delighted hum escapes her lips, her smile tugging even more. "Hard to say."

"Draw?"

She nods. "Draw." Katherine stews for a moment. "Flannels or hoodies?"

Dean clicks his tongue as he thinks. "Can't beat a lived-in hoodie, right?" Katherine hums in appreciation. "Long or short hair?"

"For guys or...?" Dean nods. Then she grins. "Longer short."

"Longer short," he says with a slow nod, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel.

"Moderation," Katherine purrs. "Ocean or mountains?"

"Mountains," Dean answers. Then he's quiet. "I can't remember the last time I went to a beach." Katherine glances to him. Dean revels in it. It's the longest she's looked at him in the past month. "You ever camped in the smokies?" She shakes her head, but a soft smile tugs at Dean's lips. He's pretty when he smiles, especially in the lighting circumstance. "Well, you're missing out. Sunrise on Clingman's Dome..." He shakes his head, smiling wistfully.

"I didn't peg you for a sunrises and sleeping bags kinda man, Dean," Katherine hums in amusement, her heart fluttering with happiness. Then it sinks. Sunrises and the lake...Indiana. Where Dean pushed her away.

Dean grins and faces forward. "Camping's awesome."

Katherine shakes her head, her warm mood dampened by a painful afterthought. "I beg to differ."

"Fine, then." Dean crosses his arms. "What's your favorite pastime?"

Katherine's lips purse to the side as she considers this. "I guess I like to read. I daydream a lot."

"That could be a maladaptive behavior."

She shrugs. "Maybe. But what hunter doesn't have any maladaptive behaviors?"

Dean nods in agreement. "What do you daydream about?"

Katherine grins. "Too deep too quick," she says. After a moment, Dean chuckles, shaking his head.

And then it's quiet again.

Dean glances to the silent blonde woman at his side. She's resting her head against the window, fiddling with a thin silver bracelet around her wrist. It doesn't look like it has any charms. "Your hair grew out," he states. "I almost forgot you're a brunette."

"Guess I'm a real life enigma, huh?"

Dean lets out a quiet sigh. "Katherine, do you remember Indiana?"

"Oh, you mean where you ripped my heart out and stomped all over it until it was soup, as you once so eloquently put it?" She tugs on her bracelet. "Yeah. Of course I remember it. Why?"

"I never got to apologize." Katherine stiffens a bit, turning her head the complete other direction. "And you'll never understand how sorry I am for what I did. The things I said, after you trusted me with...everything. You of all people didn't deserve that. And if I could do that day differently, I would."

"What?" She asks, tears stinging out of her eyes. "Slip out of my bedroom before dawn, leave a note saying how sorry you were?"

"I wouldn't do it at all," he tells her. Katherine takes in a deep breath through her nose, steadying her pulse as she stares out into the setting sun.

He shouldn't have this effect on her still. He shouldn't make her so sad...not when Charlie is in her life. The best thing she's ever had.

Dean imagines what it would've been, these past several months. What would've been different. She wouldn't have left his side after the accident. She would've helped rebuild the car, grabbed the hose from the side of Bobby's house sometimes and ambushed him. The crossroads demon in Mississippi, the demon virus in Oregon, Gordon hunting Sam. Maybe she would've been able to warn Dean about Gordon right off the bat in that bar they sat at for so many hours, drinking and telling hunting stories. The shifter in Milwaukee.

He wouldn't have woken up every night and looked to the side, expecting to find a beautiful girl on her belly beside him, only to find the right side of the bed was vacant. She would've been there, pressed up against his side or curled up in a ball.

But now she's all the way against the other side of the car, and there isn't anyone but himself to blame for that. Maybe, if that day hadn't happened, she would be curled right up against his side, and the silence wouldn't be so deafening. She'd be more familiar. Blonder, wearing her statement necklaces and dimpled grin.

"We should split up," Katherine says, climbing out of the car.

"I don't think that's a good idea," Dean tells her, following her down the alley beside Hunter's Point. "And anyway, all of the murders were in the back alleys by the joint—" Dean stops, and the two hunters glance down the alley after a girl screams bloody murder. Dean takes off with Katherine just behind him. Normally, she'd be leading in this situation. Dean still never asked if she ran in college. It's quite likely. "Hey!" He barks, and the werewolf lifts its head from the would-be victim. Dean squeezes the trigger three times, all three bullets lodging in the werewolf's heart.

The young woman who almost became puppy chow clambers up and takes off in the other direction. "Yeah, don't mention it!" Katherine shouts after her, and pats Dean on the shoulder, glancing down to the werewolf. Cautiously, she steps forward and analyzes the dying man. "Glenn?"

"What happened?" He quietly asks. "Where am I?" He chokes on his own blood and reaches up, gripping Katherine by the collar of her jacket, and pulls her forward. Dean's gun trains on Glenn's forehead, but Katherine holds her hand up. She doesn't see the yellow eyes or the sharp teeth. "You've gotta help me," he pleads. "Oh my—oh my God—"

"Take it easy, pal," she murmurs, and after a moment, his hands slip from her jacket. Katherine rises to her full height and stows her gun. "Let's make ourselves scarce," she suggests to Dean. He nods, and she starts out of the alley without another word. Katherine pulls her phone out and calls Sam.

"Yeah," he shouts from the other end of the line.

"Sam?" She asks. "What's going on?"

"Werewolf crisis, Kat, thanks."

"There are two of 'em," she continues. "Dean got Glenn before another lady of the night turned into doggy delight. We're headed back your way."

"I've got it under control," Sam pants.

"Doesn't sound like it."

"Just—I've got it. I promise."

"Call us if anything happens."

"Yeah." And immediately after, Sam hangs up. Katherine sighs, tucking her phone away, and lowers herself into the Impala.

"Sam says he's got it under control, but maybe we should wait outside her apartment in case anything happens," Katherine hums.

So that's what they do. They sit in the Impala. Katherine climbs into the back and sleeps.

She didn't used to be a restless sleeper, but she is now. Dean glances into his mirror, angled for the backseat, each time she murmurs or tosses in her sleep. She woke up a few times, but it was never for long.

"Dean," she murmurs.

"Mhm?" His eyes flit up from his lap when she doesn't answer, and then he turns around. Her body's a bit twisted, everything from the hips down a bit straighter than her cocked torso. Her arms are crossed tightly over her chest, and her forehead is smooth, fringe parting a bit from the weight of gravity, showing a bit of her fair forehead.

And her eyes are closed.

Dean shrugs out of his jacket and drops it onto her middle, tugging it to cover as much as he can manipulate it to, and he leans against the door so he can still keep an eye on her face.

In the morning, a few hours after the sun came up, Sam knocked on the window, and both hunters' eyes opened immediately.

Dean pulls his legs to his chest and twists to sit normally as Sam lowers himself into the car. Katherine stares down at the blue canvas jacket over her elbows, covering everything through the hitch of her knees. She swallows and pulls the thing up a bit, wrapping her arm securely around the canvas.

And no matter how much she wants to ignore it, sadness rattled her rib cage and makes her want to weep.

She misses Dean.

"So, what happened?" Sam asks.

"It's sort of sad, actually," Dean tells him. Katherine sits up after a moment, drowsily staring down at the warm jacket in her lap. Dean glances to her in the rearview mirror. "Glenn had no clue what was going on. Why do you think he turned Madison instead of just killing her?"

"I don't know," Sam admits.

"Isn't it obvious?" Katherine asks, running her thumb along the collar of Dean's jacket. "He was in love with her. Or, he at least had a thing for her."

"Speaking of Madison," Dean hums, glancing to Sam.

"Oh, whatever," the younger brother scoffs.

"No, no 'whatever's," Dean says. "You liked her."

"Dean, she thought I was a stark-raving lunatic."

"And now she's coming over here," Katherine hums, eyes trained on the young woman as she rounds the back of the Impala. Madison knocks on Sam's window.

"You know, for a stakeout, your car's a bit conspicuous," Madison says.

"It was built for conspicuity," Katherine taunts as Sam rolls his window down.

"What are you still doing here?"

"Honestly," Katherine begins. "We're pretty sure you're not gonna turn tonight, but we've gotta be positive, so we're lurking." She nods and Madison chuckles.

"Look, I know this sounds crazy—" Sam begins.

"It sure does," Madison sighs. "Well if we're gonna wait it out, we might as well do it together."

And so the hunters follower her into the split home. And Katherine gave Dean his jacket back without a word.

He wanted to pretend it didn't sting.

"You were telling the truth, weren't you?" Madison asks. "What you did...it was to help me."

"Yeah."

"I did all of those horrible things."

"You didn't know," Sam tells her. Katherine scratches her head, her eyes sticking to the ground. It's an oddly intimate moment, and she feels awkward and intrusive.

"So when will we know for sure? Moonrise?"

"No, I don't think so," Sam says. "You turned in the middle of the night last night. I think we gotta wait until sunup."

Katherine clears her throat and links her arm with Dean. "Dean and I have some stuff to work out, so, uh...Sam?"

"What? Yeah, yeah, I got it."

She smiles and drags Dean out of the door.