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A few months earlier

Nobody wanted anything to do with Michael's abandoned vessel. I caught a few of my comrades spitting on him or even kicking his body as they passed. I couldn't blame them, but I couldn't take the sight of his body lying there and I had to put an end to it. He wasn't Michael anymore, he was Christian and I was finally going to get to put him to rest. Bobby caught me dragging his body outside and wordlessly helped me carry him.

Bobby was the only person alive that new my secret, that Christian wasn't the true Michael Sword. It was supposed to be me.

The only reason I'd escaped my fate was a tattoo artist named Ash. He was pivotal in the war early on after he'd taught himself and others Enochian. He'd used the same warding on me as he used on himself. The sad thing is, warding only works as long as another human doesn't sell you out.

Wordlessly, we built a funeral pyre and I watched him burn until nothing was left. Bobby walked away after a while, picking up on the fact that I wasn't going to talk about this. I'd had years to grieve him, this was just closure.

The mood in the bunker was tense when I returned. Dean had left with Michael and Castiel hadn't moved from his spot, staring at the door. Everyone was waiting for news despite Bobby attempting to order us around and keep us busy. Michael had left the building with Dean to fight Lucifer and even Ketch seemed on edge. We were all bracing for the apocalypse to begin again like it did back home. But nothing happened. Nothing happened for hours while we all pretended we weren't watching the door.

Mary's phone rang and she spoke in hushed tones before calling Castiel, Bobby, and Ketch to meet her in another room. I inched towards them just in time to see Mary, Castiel, and Ketch rush towards the garage. Bobby caught me and a few others trying to eavesdrop.

"Y'all got work to do and as soon as we have something worth tellin' you, we'll tell you." My fellow eavesdroppers scattered until only I remained. I'd served under Bobby long enough to see past his gruffness and have the confidence to approach him. I was also one of the few people left alive that had known Daniel. He let out a heavy sigh as he watched me step forward.

"How bad is it?" I was reluctant to ask the question but I had to know.

I could see him pondering how much he should tell me before speaking. "Alright, don't go around making this public knowledge now cause' I don't know much yet."

I nodded in understanding. I'd heard similar words before when he didn't want to cause a panic.

"Seems like Sam and Jack got out ok." Bobby looked down and I knew he was preparing to tell me the bad news. "Dean didn't."

"What does that mean?" Dean had been possessed by Michael. Were Dean and Michael dead? Did Lucifer actually win?

"That's all I know for sure, but if Mary is calling Ketch there's more to it." Bobby scratched at his beard. "Look, I know what you lost, the sacrifice you made. I've seen those boys together and from what I can tell, Sam is gonna walk in here needing someone to talk to him whether he admits it or not. And if this thing is as big as I hope it's not, we're gonna need him."

"What does that have to do with me? Why can't someone from this world or you or Charlie talk to him? He doesn't know me."

"I'm gonna be busy keeping everyone from panicking and questioning Jack and Sam. Charlie doesn't know Sam and wouldn't have a clue what to say to him. Now as for people from here, Ketch has a job, Castiel and Mary are probably grieving and trying to take care of Jack, and that witch has been itching to leave since the rift closed." Bobby placed a hand on my shoulder. "You know his loss. My guess is that he's gonna take the back way in so he doesn't draw attention."

"Room 21?"

Bobby nodded and I began walking towards the kitchen area and the hallway to his room. I felt odd as I stood there, waiting—like I was an intruder.

Finally, Sam appeared around the corner and I did my best to look nonchalant. He looked like a zombie walking on autopilot. Sam was quiet, oddly quiet from what I knew about him—which wasn't much.

"Hey, Sam."

He brushed past me as if I didn't exist, heading straight for his room and slamming the door. I was left there with no idea what to do. The man I'd just seen was not up for conversation and I had a feeling in the pit of my stomach that knocking on his door right now was not the thing to do. So I went to the kitchen and I waited, listening for his door to open and actually checking a few times.

Sam had been in his room for a few hours and I couldn't stand waiting anymore. If this really was a worst case scenario, I needed to talk to him sooner rather than later. When hunters tried to cope alone, it didn't tend to turn out well in my experience.

So I decided to bring him food. Nothing fancy, just a sandwich and a beer. "Sam?" I knocked lightly on the door and waited for a reply. Nothing but silence greeted me. "Sam, it's Kate. I'm coming inside."

He was sitting on the edge of the bed with a bottle in his hand. Clearly the beer wasn't necessary. His eyes were red and puffy. "Hey, I brought you something to eat. I see you uh, got the party started early." I set the tray on the bed next to him, but he still didn't look at me or respond.

I'd seen hunters after a job gone bad before, but this was something else. Total devastation. I let out a heavy sigh. There was no way Sam really knew me by name, I was just another face in a crowd of refugees living in his home. How did Bobby expect him to pour his heart out to me if he didn't know me? "I'll just come and get the dishes later then, I guess." It was the least I could do.

If I was honest with myself, I wasn't just here because Bobby asked though. Despite the fact I hardly knew him, I'd felt drawn to Sam since he walked into camp literally haunted by the devil. I had similar demons in my past and people with those kinds of demons didn't survive in my world. The Prophet was probably the closest person back home that could understand what happened to me, but even he was dead. I looked at Sam with sadness and desire to reach out to him at the same time but there were walls that he'd already put up that I couldn't break down.

I'd turned to leave and nearly made it to the door before his gravelly voice stopped me. "He's not just a suit." There was an edge of bitterness in the words, but it didn't feel directed at me. It was as if he were speaking to himself and barely aware of my presence.

"What?" I turned and really hoped that Sam wasn't the type of drunk that got all cryptic. Information was vital right now if I was going to try and find a way to help him.

"Dean." Sam finally gazed up at me with a mixture of rage and heartbreak. "He's saved the world God knows how many times… He's not just a-a meat suit. He's Dean fucking Winchester. He's my brother."

I froze when I unpacked the meaning behind his words. Archangels—all archangels—were lying, self-righteous bastards as far as I was concerned. A shiver ran down my spine. This was round two of the apocalypse I'd just barely escaped. "Michael." I felt breathless. He would be at full power by now.

Sam threw the bottle against the wall and shattered. He pushed to his feet and I could feel the raw anger coming off of him. "Don't say that name," he hissed, "not to me."

"Sam. What happened?" I felt my voice hitch with anxiety. I knew what Michael's MO was and it's not like we had any leverage on him like we did with Lucifer. I swallowed back my fears and spoke again after he didn't answer the first time. "What happened?"

"What happened?" Sam scoffed. "Dean beat the fucking devil, that's what happened. He made a deal with-with… Michael—another stupid deal—and then…" He stared off into the distance for a moment before sitting back on the bed. He held his head in his hands and I saw the anger leaving him in a rush, leaving devastation in its wake to break him. "Michael took control. Dean, he couldn't fight it and Michael just left with my brother. He's using my brother and I don't even know if Dean is still alive." When he looked up at me, a single tear rolled down his face. "K-Kate?" I nodded in surprise when he remembered my name. "I don't even know if my brother's alive."

Sam looked so lost in that moment and my heart broke for him. I wanted to reach out and wrap my arms around him and allow him to lose himself in grief. But that was a luxury now. If he was going to move on, if we were going to find Michael, if there was any chance that Dean could come back (which I honestly doubted), then Sam needed to have faith and I needed to give him that faith. "The way I hear it, you guys have stopped the world from ending multiple times. Dean's strong, Sam, just like you and Mary. Your brother, he isalive and you have to believe that." I sat next to him and placed a hand on his opposite shoulder so that my arm stretched across his back, half-way in an embrace.

"Do you really believe that he would let Dean live?" It felt like Sam could see into my soul, see that this was a front I was putting up for him. But until he called bullshit, I'd keep up the façade.

I swallowed. "I believe a hunter like Dean… He wouldn't let that bastard kill him. I heard a rumor that he's been to hell and back—literally. So he's gonna fight and claw at that asshole from the inside out." I hoped it was true and said it with as much conviction as I've ever said anything.

"Could you—would you mind staying in here with me for a little while?" He paused to keep his composure. "I don't wanna be alone."

I could see what he was asking for without saying it. He needed comfort. "Yeah, yeah. I can stay. Scoot over." I leaned into him and we held each other on the bed. It was familiar. I'd done it with other hunters before, anything to feel less alone. Sometimes it escalated into something more, other times it was just simply comfort.

"Kate, thanks."

"You don't need to thank me."

We sat in silence for a few minutes before he touched my hair and spoke again. "Tell me about your life. I wanna know your story."

I knew what he was doing, looking for distraction. Anything to take his mind off of Dean right now. In the end, I knew that this story would just circle back to Dean. I could elaborate and give Sam a few minutes before he discovered the awful truth of who I am. "Well, I had an older brother too. His name was Chris." I began to tell him my long, terrible story to distract him from his own loss.

He held me even after I finished my story. He didn't say anything. Sam just seemed to be trying to take it all in. Eventually, we both fell asleep. Our limbs tangled together and overlapped so we could share the bed.

After that night, I brought him food a couple times a day and made sure he ate it. Sam barely spoke to me after that night, but I didn't mind. Mary noticed what was going on and took over a few days later. It was the right thing, she is his mother after all.

It felt like things were going back to normal when Sam began tracking leads on Michael and sending us on hunts. I noticed that I seemed to either get the easy cases or always assigned a partner. Sam never put me on the angel missions. I brought it up to him once, but he was always busy managing the group as a whole. But nothing changed except every once in a while, his eyes would linger a little longer on me during a meeting or once the meeting disbanded he would stand with me in silence. I stayed partly in solidarity and partly because of my admiration of the hunter. Every time that happened, it seemed like he wanted to tell me something. But he would turn and leave abruptly before saying anything.

Present

I finally got a solo case that was more than a simple salt and burn. I'd found it on the internet. Due to everyone else already on assignments and the relatively low risk, I was allowed to go alone.

The Midnight Man, actually turned out to be real. Like, really real, not just creepy pasta internet bullshit. The ritual was basically the same as what reddit users were posting. The Midnight Man in question was in fact, a type of demon—darker and more twisted than a regular crossroads demon. The bastards get off on the game, showing you your nightmares—your own personal hell during the game. If he catches you, he takes your soul immediately. Go directly to hell. Do not pass go. Do not collect $200. But if you win, your soul remains yours and you get one wish.

Some local kids managed to get the ritual right, but didn't take it seriously and died bloody. The cops were stumped by the massacre inside the home with no suspects or murder weapons. In fact, they looked as if they'd been shredded. Hellhounds.

I researched for a few days, found an abandoned house with some square footage to spare, and started the game. Let the fun begin. I'd planned on simply getting close enough to stab him with the demon knife, but that turned out to be impossible. He was too fast and too powerful. Surviving the game and wishing him dead would have to do. I played this fucked up hide-and-seek hell that seemed to stretch on forever with the twisted fuck until I won. Barely…

I survived the game and dragged myself to the motel that made my room at home in the apocalypse world look like a five-star hotel. Or maybe that was because the demon had managed to grab me at one point, and the contact seemed to leave a little parting gift, a type of curse that continued to twist reality after the game was over. His touch had left a scalded handprint on my forearm, one that continued to give off smoke even as I stumbled into my motel room.

I needed help, some sort of a purification ritual. The hallucinations were only getting worse and the sole reason I got back to the motel so fast was because half the time I believed I was being chased by hellhounds. During the rest of the run, I saw angels crashing into the earth all around me.

I was on the verge of hyperventilating when I got to my room and bolted all the flimsy locks, irrationally trying to keep the hellhounds at bay. That's when things got bad. His voice, the angel's voice that I thought I had finally escaped, began to whisper to me. The tv turned on and the static amplified the voice.

I covered my ears, chanting to myself. "It's not real. It's not real. He's not here, not right now. I escaped him and he can't have me" I knew I was talking to myself just to keep myself grounded but logic reared its ugly head. But not here, not in this world. I fumbled blindly with my phone and hit speed dial for the bunker. There was no way I could drive like this and the only way I was getting out was if someone came for me. My next check-in wouldn't be for another sixteen hours and there was no way I could wait that long for help.

"Hey, Kate." Sam answered the phone. Of course he would still be up this late. Probably the only one awake. "What's up?"

"H-hey, Chief…" My voice shook as I tried to tune out the furious angel screaming at me. It's not real.

Sam's tone sharpened. "Kate? Is something wrong?"

"I need you to come get me." My voice was small now. I couldn't remember the last time I felt this afraid.

"You had to finish the game." I could hear the sudden realization in his voice. "Are you hurt? Is the Midnight Man—"

"Finished the hunt. I'm at the motel." It was getting harder to maintain focus.

"Alright. I'll send Maggie and Jules to get you. They should be there in a few—"

"No. I need you to come get me." I had to pause to try and block out the angel's voice screaming at me. "Please, Sam." His breath caught when I said his name. Normally I called him Chief just like everyone else. "He touched me and I… I-I'm having a hard time keeping track of what's real. Please."

That seemed to be enough for him. "I'll be there in an hour. Two hours tops. Hang in there, ok Kate?" When I didn't respond he called my name a second time. "Katherine?"

No one ever called me by my full name anymore. It reached into my consciousness and brought me back to the surface. "Yeah, Sam?"

"Hang on. I'm on my way." The line clicked and I was left alone with the archangel again.

"I need my true vessel, Kate. You need to give me consent. If you don't, I think you know we have ways of getting it from you. Remember your brother? He died bloody last time I tried to get the big 'yes.' Good job slipping those knots…"

I buried my head into the heels of my hands. "Shut up. You're not here, this isn't real."

"This is a whole new universe and I'm alive and well, Katherine. It must've been a relief escaping me the first time. Then again, how did it feel to stab your older brother? You're going straight to hell, you know. First, you disobey God's will by refusing your destiny to be my vessel and then you murdered poor sweet Christian."

"You killed him, not me. He didn't know what he was agreeing to." I looked up and suddenly Christian was there. He was covered in blood, but I saw beyond that. I saw his warm brown eyes. I saw his favorite shirt that I'd gotten him at the mall before the war.

"You killed me. You didn't have to kill me. The angel said that all you had to do was say yes. He said that I could save you from going to hell if I said yes. Why didn't you save me, Katie? Why?"

"Stop it! I did save you! You were going to die as soon as that angel left your body. I couldn't say yes." I was in tears now.

"You want to know a secret, Katie?" Chris walked closer to where I sat huddled in the corner. "I went to hell instead of you. I felt you stab me and then the Michael sent me away right before he flew off to lick his wounds. But you can do the right thing, here, in this world. Say yes. Remove the warding tattoos. In fact, you'd not only save me, but you could save yourself."

"W-what?"

"You never checked? You never checked to see if you were alive in this version of events? Guess what? You and I, we live in a nice house. Mom and Dad are divorced and it sucks but that's probably the worst of it. Except for one thing." Chris leaned in even further. "You, the other you, said yes."

"You're lying."

"Afraid not. You've been a missing person for a few weeks now in this universe. And the Christian that lives here has been on an endless crusade searching for his little sister."

"You're lying and you're not real! Stop it! Stop it! Chris, please…"

I was vaguely aware of a crashing sound in the background. Something grabbed me and I jerked away, trying to escape. "No! I'll NEVER agree to it! You might as well let him go and get off of me."

Hand gripped you tighter. "…Kate? Kate? I need you to focus on me. Whatever you're seeing, it isn't real." Sam's voice filtered in above your hallucination.

"Sam…? Are you really here?" When I looked up, I managed to find his eyes.

"You called, remember?" His rough hand pushed a few loose strands out of your face. "I'm really here and so is Dean." His voice was calm and reassuring. I could still see Chris standing behind him but his grip was helping to keep me grounded. "Listen, we need to get you out of here and back to the bunker."

"Sounds good." I nodded and started to stand but I found myself lifted in his arms. "Sam, what are—"

"I'm guessing you're still hallucinating. You keep looking behind me."

I nodded against his chest.

"I need you to trust me. Do you believe I'm real?"

I hesitantly nodded again.

"Good, let's keep it that way. We're gonna get you back home and fix this. I promise. Whatever you're seeing and hearing other than Dean and me, ignore it. It isn't real. It's an hour back with Dean speeding and there's nothing we can do from here. I'm sorry." Sam frowned slightly. "Just focus on me, ok? I'll sit in the backseat with you."

I could feel Sam slide into the car with me. "What about Chris?"

Sam looked at me with sadness and shook his head. "He's not really there. You were alone in the room, Katherine. I'm sorry." His lips brushed against my forehead softly and I could feel the soft scruff of his beard on top of my head.

Tear pricked at my eyes and I turned my face into Sam's chest. I could check and see if there really was a Chris here, but he wouldn't be mine. Nothing could fix the fact that I'd killed my brother.

"I'm guessing you had to finish the game?" I could feel him rubbing soothing circles into my back.

"Yeah." I shuddered, remembering the horror show in the abandoned house. "He was too fast. I couldn't—"

"Shhh… It's ok. You had to wish him dead then?" Sam was trying to get me to focus on the details of the hunt rather than letting the hallucinations take over again.

"I was going to…" My eyes slid to the front seat. I saw Dean look back at me in the mirror. If I didn't know any better, I'd say he was worried about me.

"You didn't wish him dead?" Sam sighed. "Job isn't over, Dean. Don't worry, Kate. You did good. The important thing is that you're alive."

"M'sorry. I just thought of something that might be better." The sun was beginning to rise now, filling the sky outside with pinks and purples.

"What did you wish for?" Sam looked slightly intrigued.

"I wished… for us to kill Michael—you, me, and Dean. I got a lead and this." I pulled a dagger out of my waistband. It was completely covered in Enochian spell work that was engraved in the blade and hilt. The dagger was a solid piece of a metal I didn't recognize.

"Oh my God… Kate…" Sam looked at me, stunned. Dean must've been either angry or speechless in the front seat, guessing by his silence. Sam's arms wrapped tighter around me. "Let's go home. Kate? Kate!"

I'd receded back into another set of hallucinations after handing Sam the dagger. It was too hard to fight the voices and then the voices dragged me under and into a nightmare world. I wasn't lucid again until Castiel and the Winchesters finally managed to remove the curse. Apparently, it was particularly nasty because they had to do it four times to completely fix it and even then, a faint handprint remained behind like a dark scar.

I opened my eyes to see Sam waiting for me. "I know who the new vessel is, Chief." We were back in the bunker and I was in my right mind again. He came out to get me because no one else could get there fast enough, maybe also because he felt like he owed me a favor, nothing more.

"That-that's great." Sam smiled before letting out a deep sigh. "Please, don't call me that. I wish you'd call me Sam." It was the beginning of the same speech he gave everyone. "Look, I'm not your chief or boss." He looked down and then back up at me. There was something different in his eyes. "In fact, I want us to be—I mean I want you, more than anybody, to call me Sam. Just Sam. Please."

I couldn't help but smile a little bit. "Ok, I get it. Don't break anything trying to explain it. I know we can't, you know, right now. But I'll call you Sam. And if you'd like, I can stop by your room a little more often. I could also leave my door unlocked around midnight. You know, since you never sleep anyway."

"Yeah. I'd like that, Katherine." Sam smiled and squeezed my hand.

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