A/N: Here's the rest of the pilot! I hope you're all enjoying it so far. Hopefully things will pick up with time lol

Disclaimer: I own nothing except for my OC, Katherine.

Kat stood with crossed arms, watching Sam pick the lock to John's hotel room while Dean kept a look out for anyone. Sam had always been exceptional at picking locks, so she wasn't surprised he had remembered, but was a little surprised that he was so willing to do it. Maybe he was just hoping John was in there so he could go back to college and live his normal, safe life.

There was a click and then Sam carefully pushed the door open, taking out the lock pick as he did so, before moving into the room. Kat crept into the room, not really sure why she felt the need to be quiet, but knowing it was always better to be safe than sorry. There could always be something lurking around when they least expected it. She nearly jumped when Sam quickly reached past her, sighing when he pulled an oblivious Dean into the room after them and slammed the door shut. She shook her head with an amused smile and turned to survey the room.

"—oh my God." The room was a shambles. Every single surface was covered with one thing or another. Salt canisters and equipment covered an end table, while various books covered the other as well as the complimentary desk that sat along one wall of the room. Even the bed was put to use, the covers all rumpled and even more equipment on that, as well as an open suitcase. The only thing that was slightly organized were papers and photos pinned to almost every inch of available wall space. Clues? Connections? John had clearly been doing some thorough work while he was there; but he didn't seem to be there now.

Dean went over to turn on a light, allowing the three of them to get a better look. There was a ring of salt around the perimeter of the door, which Sam and Kat stepped over carefully, so as not to disturb it. "You'd think he was running away from something..." She shuddered to think how easily that could be true. She looked around, then caught sight of Dean out of the corner of her eye, sniffing a forgotten fast food burger. "Seriously?" At least he had the decency to look disgusted over how it smelled.

"I don't think he's been here for a couple days, at least." He tossed the burger back down where he'd found it.

Sam crouched down by the salt, picking some up. So much for that whole 'being-careful-not-to-disturb-the-salt' idea. "Salt? Cats-eye shells? He was worried." He dropped the salt and stood up. "Kat's right, it's like he was running from something...trying to keep something from coming in."

"I mean, he was hunting the same ghost we are, right?" Kat walked over to some papers on the wall that Dean was looking at. "Maybe he was trying to keep her away? Though I can't imagine she'd leave the highway or the bridge..."

"What do you got here?" Sam moved over.

"Centennial Highway victims." Dean's eyes scanned over each individual paper that his dad had put up. "I don't get it. I mean, different men, different jobs, ages, ethnicities. There's always a connection, right? What do these guys have in common?"

"Maybe they all knew Constance?" Kat sighed, shaking her head. "No, that doesn't make any sense. Troy probably wasn't even born yet when Constance killed herself." She looked over when another light turned on, seeing Sam looking at another wall of papers. "What's up?"

"—Dad figured it out."

Now Dean looked over. "What do you mean?"

"He found the same article we did. Constance Welch. She's a woman in white."

Dean turned back to look at the photos of the victims. "You sly dogs..."

"Wait, a woman in white? Isn't that, like..."

"She kills men who are unfaithful." Sam continued to look at the wall.

"Oh." Kat pursed her lips. "So, basically, the connection between these guys is that they're all sleazeballs? Or sly dogs?" She gave Dean a look, which made him quick to change the subject.

"Alright, so if we're dealing with a woman in white, Dad would have found the corpse and destroyed it."

"She might have another weakness."

"Well, Dad would wanna make sure." He walked to where Sam was standing. "He'd dig her up. Does it say where she's buried?"

"No, not that I can tell. If I were Dad, though, I'd go ask her husband." Sam reached out to tap on the article, over a picture of Constance's husband, Joseph Welch. "If he's still alive."

"Is he a sleazeball, too?" Kat moved next to Dean, looking at a picture that was apparently a depiction of a woman in white. "You know what's nice? I can't be bait for this if she is a woman in white. If necessary, I volunteer you." She bumped her shoulder against Dean's to let him know she was joking.

"Yeah, yeah. If you're not gonna be any use to us, then how's about you find the husband's address? I'm gonna get cleaned up."

"I have to get cleaned up, too, you know."

"Unless you wanna conserve water, you're just gonna have to wait." He gave her a smirk, before going towards the bathroom.

"Hey, Dean?" Sam's voice stopped him. "What I said earlier, about Mom and Dad...I'm sorry—"

Dean quickly held up a hand. "No chick-flick moments."

"Alright," Sam laughed, "Jerk."

"Bitch." With that, Dean retreated into the bathroom to shower.

Kat watched the exhange with a little smile. Throughout her time with them, she had heard those two names a good handful of times. It somehow showed the love they had for each other. It was weird, sure, but it didn't matter how weird something was if it worked. And, though it wouldn't last, she enjoyed seeing them be brothers again. Dean needed it; Sam probably needed it, too.

Maybe it would last. Sam would go back to college, but maybe the two brothers could have a relationship again. Separation and Sam's strict no hunting policy didn't mean they couldn't visit each other and meet up places, have lunch, do whatever it was that brothers do.

Maybe she could have a relationship with Sam again. It may not be as close, now that he had Jess to be his confidant, but it would still be nice to have even half of their friendship back.

She looked over at him, saw him looking fondly at a picture of John with two little boys who weren't hard to figure out, and walked over with a smile. "Too bad I didn't get to be around when you two were that cute."

"Hmm?" He glanced at her. "Oh. Right. At least I was still kinda cute..."

"Ah, you've both always been cute. Adorable, even." They had their moments anyway. She couldn't say they were precious all the time.

Sam smiled slightly, putting the picture into his pocket. "So..." His voice suddenly sounded a bit more serious. "You and Dean have gotten close, huh?" His hands went into his pockets and he moved back across the room as Kat insinctively followed.

"Dean and me? I mean...yeah..." For a second, she was puzzled as to why he brought it up; then she remembered those changes. Sam had noticed.

"I'm not ragging on you or anything, it's just...last time I saw you guys, all you did was bicker, you know? Now...you're still bickering, but something seems...different. I mean, the hand-holding on the bridge?"

"—you left, Sam." She hastened to explain herself when he started to look upset. "And I'm not saying that to hurt you or guilt you...but it's just been Dean and me since then. John's there, yeah, but...you get what I mean. It's just been Dean and me." She nodded, and he looked dissatisfied, but she moved past him anyway. "I'm gonna go find out that address, okay?"

Kat had found the address for Joseph Welch's house and Dean was still in the shower, so she had taken to a little sink that the motel room had against the wall near the bathroom door, cleaning up as best as she could with hand soap and a cloth. She wouldn't exactly enter a beauty pageant in her current state, but at least she looked and smelled nearly presentable considering what little she had to work with. Most of the mud was out of her hair, at least.

She could just hear a feminine voice and looked over to see that Sam was on his phone, presumably listening to a voice mail or something from Jess.

"All yours, Kat." Dean walked out of the bathroom, no less than squeaky clean. Kat almost coveted him in that moment. "I'm starving, I'm gonna grab a little something to eat in that diner down the street." He grabbed his jacket and pulled it halfway on. "You guys want anything?"

Sam, seeming to create a pattern here, immediately said, "No."

"Aframian's buying." Another denial from Sam, so he looked at Kat. "I know you gotta be hungry by now."

Damn if he wasn't right. "French fries? It's been a while since I've had any that don't come in a paper bag." She watched him go, then headed into the bathroom, figuring he'd take long enough for her to get in a quick shower.

Alright. Maybe the light was too dim in the other room. Sure, she wasn't caked with mud, but she still looked like a wreck. An exhausted, still-slightly-damp wreck. Her face looked mostly clean, the only problem there was the bags under her eyes; she hadn't slept since before they got to Jericho, and the 'jumping off a bridge' thing didn't help matters much.

She had just turned away from the mirror and started to take off her stiff, dirty shirt when Sam suddenly burst through the door. "Sam! What the—"

"Out the window, now." He locked the door behind him.

"What's going on?" The only answer she got was a shove towards the window. "Alright, alright." She conceded, knowing full well that he had a very good, urgent reason to want her out the window. She climbed up onto the toilet tank and shoved the window open, pulling herself through. It was a tight fit, but she managed to wiggle through it and jump down to the ground below. She was genuinely surprised that Sam actually got out without too much trouble.

Something really bad was happening if someone like him could fit through a window like that.

"Sam, what's going on? Is it the woman in white?"

"Worse." He skulked around to the corner of the building and Kat followed his lead, both of them glancing around to the parking lot. "Cops. They spotted Dean." They both winced as there was a slam, followed by a voice reading Dean the Miranda rights. "We're gonna have to keep going without him. You got the address?"

"Um, yeah, but Dean's being arrested. What are we gonna do about this?"

"It's Dean. He'll be fine."

"And if he's not?"

"—he'll be fine. Shh, shh." He pushed her back behind the motel, pressing against the wall next to her and listening. There was a door slam. Two voices. Two more door slams. Then, after what felt like an eternity, a car starting and wheels moving along asphalt. "Wait here, okay?" He cautiously moved around the building.

She would have let him know that she was perfectly capable of checking for danger as much as he was, but getting arrested wasn't on the top of her to-do list. Sam's hand appeared from around the corner, signaling for her to come, and she quickly followed him out to the parking lot. No one was towing away the Impala, which was a plus given the current twist of events.

Sam sighed. "Time to pay Joseph Welch a visit."

Dean sat at a table in the sheriff's office, watching as the sheriff walked in and set down a box of of papers. "So you wanna give us your real name?"

"I told you, it's Nugent. Ted Nugent."

The sheriff just looked at him. "I'm not sure you realize just how much trouble you're in here."

"We talkin' like misdemeanor kind of trouble or, uh, squeal like a pig trouble?" He always had to be a smart ass.

"You got the faces of ten missing persons taped to your wall, along with a whole lotta Satanic mumbo-jumbo. Boy, you are officially a suspect."

"That makes sense." Dean sighed. "'Cause when the first one went missing in '82, I was three."

"I know you got partners, one of 'em's an older guy. Maybe he started the whole thing." The sheriff reached into the box, taking out a journal. "So tell me, Dean," he stressed the name to let him know he knew, before tossing the journal onto the table. "This is?" He came around and sat on the table when all Dean did was stare at the book, and he moved to go through a few pages. "I thought that might be your name. See, I leafed through this...what little I could make out. I mean, it's nine kinds of crazy, but I found this, too." He finally stopped on a page that had 'DEAN 35-111' written in a circle. He looked at Dean when he leaned forward to look. "Now, you're stayin' right here 'til you tell me exactly what that means."

All Dean did was stare for a long moment, before looking at the sheriff with a shrug.

Sam and Kat trudged up the driveway to Joseph Welch's house, the latter sighing. "I wish I had gotten a shower in. He may find me...a bit disconcerting. Hey, maybe he'll think I'm some sort of swamp monster and tell us everything he knows out of fear." All she got from Sam was a look as he knocked on the door of the house.

A moment passed, before an aging man opened up the door, and Sam quickly put on a bright smile. "Hi! Are you Joseph Welch?"

"Yeah." The man said with a smile so unexpectedly sweet that Kat kind of felt bad for calling him a sleazeball before.

"I'm Sam and this is my...partner, Katherine." He may have left out surnames and lied about their relationship, but he didn't seem keen on making up fake names like Dean and John liked to. She wasn't sure if he'd forgotten from being out of hunting for so long, or he was just a better person than the three of them. Maybe a little bit of both. "We were wondering if we could ask you a few questions."

Joseph looked at them a little strangely for a moment, before agreeing and stepping out of the house, shutting the door. He nodded for them to walk with him. "A fella came by here, wantin' to ask questions."

"We're actually looking for someone, and were wondering if he came by here." Sam took the photo of him, Dean, and their dad out of his pocket, handing it to Joseph. "Is this him?"

"—yeah, he was older, but that's him." He handed the photo back. "He came by three or four days ago. Said he was a reporter."

"That's right, we're working on a story together."

"Three of you on one story?" He looked back at them with a raised eyebrow. "Well, I don't know what the hell kinda story you're working on. The questions he asked me?"

"About your wife Constance?"

"He asked me where she was buried."

"And where is that again?" Sam wasn't great at subtlety sometimes. Sure, the inflections in his question were just right, but just flat out asking was weird. Even for a 'reporter'.

"What, I gotta go through this twice?"

"It's fact-checking." Kat quickly chimed in. "Besides, with him being MIA and all, we want to make sure we all have the same information."

Joseph sighed. "In a plot. Behind my old place over on Breckenridge."

"And why did you move?" Sam asked.

"I'm not gonna live in the house...where my children died."

They stopped walking. Now Kat felt really bad for calling him a sleazeball before. Yeah, possibly cheating on his wife did make him horrible, but he was still human and still lost his kids just as much as Constance did.

"Mr. Welch, did you ever marry again?" She couldn't help the look she gave Sam when he asked that. What did that have to do with anything?

"No way. Constance...she was the love of my life." He smiled almost sadly. "Prettiest woman I ever known."

"So you had a happy marriage?"

Now she got it. Sam was pushing Joseph to see if he had been unfaithful; if he had pushed Constance into being a woman in white. The slight hesitation before he answered said just about everything.

"—definitely."

Sam looked at Kat, before nodding, "Well, that should do it. Thanks for your time." He gestured for Kat to follow them and they moved to get in the Impala while Joseph started back towards his house. "You think he knows?"

"I highly doubt it. He just seems like a normal guy..."

He nodded again. A moment passed before he called out, "Mr. Welch, did you ever hear of a woman in white?"

Joseph turned around. "A what?"

"A woman in white. Or sometimes weeping woman?" All he got was a stare, so he continued on in hopes of getting some sort of information. "It's a ghost story. Well, it's more of a phenomen, really..." He put the car keys into his pocket, walking back over to Joseph. "Um, they're spirits. They've been sighted for hundreds of years, dozens of places, in Hawaii, Mexico, lately in Arizona, Indiana. All these are different women, you understand?" He stopped to stand in front of the older man. Kat decided to hang back by the car, not wanting to make them look any crazier than Sam was. "But all share the same story."

"Boy, I don't care much for nonsense." Joseph started to walk away again and Sam only followed. Now Kat had to join, a bit fearful that this situation might end up like the little scuffle on the bridge if Sam pushed him too much.

"See, when they were alive, their husbands were unfaithful to them." That got Joseph to stop again. "And these women, basically suffering from temporary insanity, murdered their children." Sam's words were gentle, but made the man turn around. "Then once they realized what they had done, they took their own lives. So now their spirits are cursed, walking back roads, waterways. And if they find an unfaithful man, they kill him. And that man is never seen again."

Joseph's bottom lip was quivering from emotion. "You think...you think that has something to do with...Constance?" He moved closer to Sam. "You smart ass?"

"You tell me."

"Sam..."

"I mean...maybe...maybe I made some mistakes." Tears were gathering in his eyes. "But no matter what I did, Constance never would have killed her own children. Now you get the hell out of here! And you don't ever come back." He was shaking, glaring at Sam for a long moment, before he turned and walked away.

"We're sorry, sir!" Kat called out to him. What more could she say? It was clear that he had cheated on Constance and she really was the woman in white. All she could do was apologize for upsetting him, for letting him wonder if it were his fault that his children were gone. He didn't even want them there now, so it wasn't like she could make up some lie about how they had mixed something up or thought wrongly. She sighed and reached out to tug on Sam's sleeve. "Let's get out of here, okay?" They moved back to the Impala. "We can get a bite to eat, think things through...rescue Dean, probably."

It wasn't until after the sun set that they were back on the highway, on the way to Breckenridge Road to take care of Constance's body under the cover of night, to lower the risk of being seen just in case anyone passed by. They had had a late lunch, got all the supplies they needed to get rid of the bones, and, lastly, did what they could to get Dean out of trouble.

Sam's phone rang and he pulled it out of his pocket, flipping it open.

"Fake 911 phone call, Sammy? I don't know, that's pretty illegal."

"Hey, it was Kat's idea. I just did the dirty work." He grinned. Kat didn't share in his glee, instead looking out the window with her arms crossed.

Something just felt...wrong.

"Listen, we gotta talk."

"Tell me about it. So the husband was unfaithful. We are dealing with a woman in white. And she's buried behind her old house, so that should have been Dad's next stop."

"Sammy, would you shut up for a second?"

"I just can't figure out why he hasn't destroyed the corpse yet."

"Well, that's what I'm trying to tell you! He's gone. Dad left Jericho."

"What? How do you know?"

"I've got his journal."

"He doesn't go anywhere without that thing."

"Yeah, well, he did this time."

"What's it say?"

"Ah, it's the same old ex-marine shit, when he wants to let us know where he's going."

"Coordinates. Where to?"

"I'm not sure yet."

"Sam, stop the car." Kat blurted it out before she could stop herself. There was just a large amount of pressure and wrongness, and she felt like she was going to pass out right there if she didn't get some fresh air. "Sam, stop the car right now!"

"Ho-hold on, Dean." Sam honestly looked a little scared as he glanced at Kat, slowly stopping the car. "Kat, are you okay?"

She didn't answer him, shoving the car door open and stumbling out. Immediately, the horrible feeling lessened as she breathed in the cool night air. Of course, it could only last so long, before she saw Constance standing there in the middle of the dark road.

"What could be so important that Dad would just skip out in the middle of a job? Dean, what the hell is going on?" Sam had carried on the conversation with Dean, though he kept casting worried looks at Kat.

"Sam...Sam?" She glanced away for just a second, and when she looked back, the road ahead of the car was empty.

"—take me home." She heard a female voice and turned to look, seeing a figure sitting in the back seat of the car. "Take. Me. Home."

"—no. Kat, get in the car, now."

She didn't need to be told twice. That wrong feeling from before practically forgotten, she moved to get back into the car. Unfortunately, the door slammed shut and there was a familiar clicking sound of the locks. "Sam!" She grabbed onto the door handle, but of course, it wasn't going to open. She could see Sam through the window, trying to unlock the door to no avail. That feeling had to have been Constance's doing, right? Somehow she had manipulated something, to get her out of the car, to get to Sam. Had Sam been unfaithful to Jess? It was impossible. It was Sam.

Dean was right about Constance. What a bitch.

There was no time to dwell on that, though, as Kat had to quickly jump out of the way as the car started to drive. "Sam! Shit!" She may not have been fast enough to outrun a car that was chasing after her, but she hoped and prayed she had more of a chance to run after a car and chase it instead.

She ran faster than she ever had in her damn life. She wasn't about to let Sam get killed by some crazy ghost with a grudge, though later she would be thankful that the house wasn't too far and that the car stopped just outside of it; it wasn't like she was prepared to run a marathon here. Still, she was panting slightly as she caught up to the now parked car, trying fruitlessly to get one of the doors open. "Sam!"

Sam sat in the front seat still, looking at Constance through the rearview mirror. "Don't do this."

"I can never go home," she said sadly, staring at the house.

"—you're scared to go home." Suddenly, she was gone from the mirror and Sam turned to look at the empty backseat. When he turned back, she was sitting in the passenger's side, wasting no time in climbing onto him, slamming him down hard enough to recline the seat and make him groan in pain.

"Hold me...I'm so cold..."

Kat had given up on opening the door, looking around instead for something she could break the window with. Dean might kill her, but she was sure he'd forgive her if it was all to save his brother. "Come on...come on...iron would be real convenient right now!" She glared up at the sky as if someone up there could drop down an iron rod or something.

"You can't kill me." Sam did his best to ignore Constance's advances, the way she was rocking against him. "I'm not unfaithful. I never have been."

"You will be," she threatened, before cupping his face and kissing him deeply.

He grunted in disgust, reaching past her, trying to get a hold of the car keys, when she suddenly sat up. She flickered, her face looking far more torn apart and a lot less pretty than it had before, and she disappeared. It couldn't have been that easy, right? Nothing had even happened to stop her. A sharp, strong pain suddenly bloomed in his chest and he cried out, hurriedly unzipping his hoodie to see five holes burned into his shirt.

"Please, for the love of..." For an old, broken down house, it sure as hell didn't leave any parts around for anyone to break a car window with. It may have been an oddly specific need, but that didn't mean it was too much to ask. Kat was about to rip something straight off the house when she heard Sam's cry. "No!" She ran to the window, seeing Constance on top of him, slowly digging her hand into his chest. "Sam! Get off of him!" She felt helpless, smacking her palms on the glass, willing it to break so she could try to take the ghost on without any weapons.

"Kat, get down!" A gruff, wonderfully familiar voice shouted behind her. She ducked down just as several gunshots went off, shattering the window. She scrambled out of the way and stood up, watching Constance disappear and reappear, only for more bullets to enter the car until she disappeared again.

Sam, still groaning in pain, quickly sat up and started the car. "I'm taking you home!" He slammed down on the gas pedal, driving the car straight up the driveway and in through the front of the house.

"Sam!" Dean shouted after him like the hero he didn't think he was. He ran to the house with Kat hot on his heels, stopping for just a second and holding his hand out to keep her back just in case something was amiss, before nodding and continuing inside. "Sam! You okay?" He moved up to the car.

"I think..."

"Can you move?" He yanked the door open.

"Yeah. Help me?"

Dean leaned in to pull Sam out of the car, not getting another word in before Kat ran over and grabbed onto the younger Winchester. "Are you okay? Shit, Sam, I tried to do something..."

"I know, Kat, I know—" He suddenly flinched, pulling her back protectively between himself and Dean.

Constance stood ahead of them, though she wasn't paying them any attention. She stared sadly at a photo she was holding. Suddenly, her eyes snapped up and she glared at them, tossing the picture aside. A dresser against one wall slid forward, slamming against them before they could react and pinning them to the car. Any one of them probably could have shoved that dresser away by themselves, but Constance's power kept it there no matter how hard the three of them pushed. She started towards them, clearly not caring about gender or fidelity now.

"I felt bad for you before, Constance, but now?" Kat grunted, pushing the dresser uselessly. "I don't really know how I feel. Kind of pissed." If she was going to go out because of a ghost, she didn't want to go out whimpering.

The lights suddenly turned on, flickering. Even Constance looked around in confusion, turning as water started to drip down the stairs. She stared at the top of the stairs, at two children who stood there, and she flickered in and out of sight until she stood at the bottom.

All Dean, Sam, and Kat could do was stare in confusion and disbelief.

The children joined hands, speaking in unison, "You've come home to us, Mommy." They suddenly appeared behind her and she turned to face them, letting out a scream as they quickly embraced her. She screamed over and over, face changing spastically from beautiful to gruesome, she and the children seeming to be dragged into the floor.

Dean flinched, Sam cringed uncomfortably, and Kat closed her eyes tightly. None of them had ever witnessed something like that before, and it was difficult to watch. Constance and her children turned into a puddle on the floor and even most of the puddle evaporated, all power leaving the room.

"—what was that?" Kat slowly opened her eyes, helping the boys to shove the dresser over, before they walked to the little bit of water left on the floor.

"So this is where she drowned the kids." Dean looked at his brother.

Sam nodded. "That's why she could never go home. She was too scared to face them."

"It almost makes me feel bad for her again. Too bad she was horrible."

Dean let out a little laugh. "Yeah. At least you found her weak spot. Nice work, Sammy." He gave Sam a slap on the chest, right where Constance had been digging her way in. Kat gave him a horrified look, reaching out to give Sam a comforting squeeze on the shoulder as he laughed in reaction to the pain.

"Yeah, wish I could say the same for you." He gave her a grateful look as he addressed Dean, turning to watch his brother walk to the car. "What were you thinking shooting Casper in the face, you freak?"

"Hey! Saved your ass. I mean, what was Kat doing? Trying to break the damn window with her fists."

"Excuse me? I spent a good couple of minutes looking around for something to break the window open and save him. You'd think an old house like this would lose a piece of wood or something, but no."

"I keep telling you to carry around a gun. You can't be the one to save the day every time anyway, Kat." He ignored her glare, bending over to look over the Impala. "I'll tell you another thing, Sam. If you screwed up my car..." He looked back at his brother. "I'll kill you."

The car was still in working condition at least. They were going back down the highway just fine, Dean driving as per usual, while Sam used a flashlight and a map to check the coordinates John had left, while Kat sat in the backseat in an exhausted silence.

"Okay, here's where Dad went." Sam traced a line on the map. "It's called Blackwater Ridge, Colorado."

"Sounds charming." Dean nodded. "How far?"

Sam looked over the map again. "About six hundred miles."

"Hey, if we shag ass, we could make it by morning."

There was a small beat of awkward silence. "—Dean, I...um..."

"You're not going."

"The interview's in, like, ten hours. I gotta be there."

Kat, despite her exhaustion, could see and feel Dean's disappointment from the backseat. She always could. But he wasn't a man who vocalized his feelings, so he just said, "Yeah. Yeah, whatever. I'll take you home."

And he did. The rest of the ride was completely silent aside from Dean's music, which was even turned down lower than usual. Kat was dozing off by the time they pulled up to Sam's apartment, not really meaning to, though unable to stop herself now that there was a moment of rest.

The door immediately creaked open and then slammed shut, and Sam leaned down to look into the window. "Maybe I can meet up with you later, huh?"

"Yeah, alright." Dean nodded, not really believing him.

"Kat?" Sam's voice made her alert as he moved to the back window. "Hey...sorry...I know you're tired. Me, too. I didn't want to go without saying bye."

She gave him a little smile. "Bye, Sam."

"Bye." He chuckled. "It's been...nice, honestly. I missed you."

"Missed you, too."

"How's about I just call you in a couple days? I'm not really sure how much of this is something you mean and how much is just you repeating what I'm saying."

She blinked until she could focus, sitting up a bit straighter and looking right at him. "I missed you, Sam. Good luck with your interview."

"Thanks, Kat." He smiled, tapping on the door. There was no hug now either. It had still been too long, and a day or two of hunting didn't fix much. He had started to walk away when Dean called out to him, making him turn back.

"You know, we made a hell of a team back there." They had always made a good team. Dean and Kat made a good team, too, but Sam made it...perfect, almost.

He smiled again, nodding slightly. "Yeah."

Dean started the car, putting it in drive and pulling away from the curb. Only a few seconds passed before Kat left the backseat, crawling over the back of the front seat and sitting close to Dean, resting her head on his shoulder. Maybe it was so she could have a pillow. Maybe it was so he could have a little comfort. Maybe it was both.

She had just started to doze off again when that horrible feeling of complete and utter wrongness took over again. At first, her tired mind wondered if Constance was still alive — alive? Around? What would a ghost be considered? — and had somehow followed them.

But Constance had clearly been dragged into some pit of hell by her children.

And this time felt different.

She felt the urgent need to see Sam. Maybe she missed him or he forgot something, she wasn't really sure, but she just knew that they needed to go back. She immediately sat up, earning a confused glance from Dean. "—Dean..."

"You can sleep. It's alright," he said as nonchalantly as he could, trying to pass off his offer as tolerance rather than enjoying her closeness.

"No...that's not..." She shook her head. "Can we go back?"

"What?" He gave her another bemused look, before returning his eyes to the road. "You wanna go back and hug Sammy, don't ya?"

"No...I..." The farther the car went, the more unbearable the feeling became. She couldn't focus on anything except for getting back to Sam. "Turn the car around, now." Her tone was far more serious than she had planned, the words nearly growled out.

Dean was no fool. He immediately did a U-turn without a care for any cars that may have been passing, driving right back to Sam's apartment. "Kat, what's going on? You okay? I heard you telling Sam the same sort of shit when we were on the phone."

"Something's wrong, Dean. Maybe I'm just crazy...I don't know. But something just doesn't feel right." She was so confused. Before it had just been Constance manipulating something to get her out of the car, hadn't it? So why was a feeling so similar happening now? Certainly, if Constance was somehow still around and had somehow followed them to get Sam like she wanted, she wouldn't give Kat the urge to go back. She hoped she was just crazy from being so tired.

She wasn't.

When they pulled back up to the apartment, smoke and the bright, glowing light from flames could be seen through the window. "Dean—"

"Shit!" He immediately threw the car into park and both of them jumped out instantly, doors forgotten and left hanging open. They had made it to the bottom of the steps before Dean turned around and pushed Kat back. "Stay out here."

"But, Dean, it's—"

"You stay out here!" He looked into her eyes, letting her know just how serious he was. "You understand me?"

"—yes." She hated to agree to staying behind, wanting nothing more than to go in there and get Sam out, but knew Dean wouldn't hesitate to lock her up somewhere. She watched as he ran up the stairs and kicked the door in, calling out for Sam before he headed into the building.

Only seconds had passed, and she was already beginning to pace back and forth, biting her nails nervously. She thought she had felt helpless back in Jericho, weaponless and unable to get into the car and get to Sam. Now both Dean and Sam were inside a burning building and she couldn't do a damn thing without upsetting Dean.

When a minute came and went, she was about ready to run in anyway. She cared about Dean too much to care about upsetting him, which made sense in a roundabout way. She cared more about saving his life than pissing him off.

Just as she was gearing up to go in and save them both, they stumbled out and down the stairs. Dean was practically dragging Sam out as he struggled to go back inside, calling out for his girlfriend in obvious desperation.

"Jess! Jess! Get off of me!" He finally tore away from Dean, stumbling away and right into Kat from the force of his release.

She caught him, in a way, both of them falling to the ground. "Sam? Sam?" She cupped his face, trying to get him to look at her. Ghosts were scary. Constance was pretty damn frightening in her own right. But nothing terrified her more than seeing one of her boys as distraught as this.

"Jess..." He whimpered her name pitifully now, voice breaking, and he wasn't even struggling anymore. He had all but given up, sobs leaving his lips and tears pouring down his face, and he didn't put up a fight when Kat brought his face to her chest.

They were hugging, finally, and it was awful. Sam clung to Kat like she was the only thing keeping him from sinking into the ground, his pain radiating from his fingertips in the way they bit into her back through her shirt. She didn't care about the pain, though, too focused on comforting him in all of the worthless ways she could; one arm wrapped around him tightly, while her free hand stroked his hair, and she whispered all of that bullshit nothingness that people always did. Anything to help him. Anything to try. Time didn't matter anymore. They could have been separated for a dozen years, and it still wouldn't have made her heart indifferent to his pain.

Her eyes met Dean's over Sam's head, silently asking the question that she already knew the devastating answer to. He nodded. She closed her eyes against the tears that filled them. She couldn't cry for Jess, really, having only known her for a couple days and only spoken to her for less than a minute, but Sam..oh, God, Sam. Sam, who was so good. Sam, who never wanted anything to do with the cursed life of hunting. Sam, who longed so desperately for a normal life, a safe life where monsters didn't exist and smart kids achieved their dreams. Sam, whose dream was right there for him, waiting to be picked up, only for life to tear it away as if to tell him he would never have that dream. Once a hunter, always a hunter. Happiness is less of a choice and more of a myth.

Someone had apparently called for help at some point, sirens filling the air as trucks and cars pulled up. Firemen rushed around them to do their work, while someone came to ask questions and Dean quickly intercepted, volunteering himself first to give Sam and Kat their peace for the moment.

Sam did stop crying after some time, and once he stopped, you would have never known he had started. He sat there with Kat, practically laying on her, completely still and silent as his sadness morphed into something darker. Something more like his father.

Dean could only answer so many questions before an officer had to walk over, softly asking Kat if she could answer the same questions. She gently untangled herself from Sam, getting up and walking with the officer, telling him something along the lines of what she figured Dean had. Something about a roadtrip, dropping Sam off, coming back when he called in a panic.

The officer thanked her for her time, and went to talk to Sam, and Kat looked around to see that a crowd had gathered to see what was going on. She looked until she spotted Dean, slowly moving over to him. They just looked at each other for a moment, then she quickly hugged him, holding him tightly. "Dean..."

He slowly wrapped his arms around her. "I know, Kit Kat." Over the years, that nickname had grown from just a way to tease her, and sometimes became a way to comfort her. The familiarity of the name was good at keeping her grounded.

"What are we gonna do? Sam...Jess..."

"We'll figure it out. We just gotta take care of Sammy..."

She nodded, closing her eyes tightly. They just had to take care of Sam; like Dean had for practically his whole life, like Kat had those moments when he needed someone to talk to about anything and everything. They were practically experts. Yet they felt like amateurs now that they had to take care of Sam after something as horrible as this.

When she opened her eyes and pulled away from Dean, she saw that Sam was no longer talking to the officer. In fact, she couldn't see him anywhere. She looked up at Dean and he was looking off in another direction, so she followed his gaze. The Impala's trunk was open.

They made there way to the Impala, around to the trunk, where Sam was standing, loading a shotgun. Anger was clear on his face when he looked at them, though it was directed at something else entirely.

"Sam...I'm..." Kat couldn't finish. There was nothing she could say.

Sam just nodded and tossed the gun into the trunk. "We got work to do." He slammed the trunk shut.

A/N: There we go! There's the pilot, starring Kat. I know she didn't have much to do with the hunt, but she didn't really have a place in this particular one lol. She will definitely be more involved in later hunts, don't worry. And I can't tell you why she can sense things, whether it's her or something more ~supernatural~, but I can tell you that she is not one of Azazel's special children. That would be too much drama lol. I hope you enjoyed. Please review!