Ares is hiding out in the center of town on the second-story of an apartment building. We'd already scoped out the place earlier and even seen the god in question walk out of the front door, dressed in his customary leather jacket and wearing sunglasses.

A paper taped up inside the buildings front windows told us that the entire apartment building is miraculously unoccupied and available to rent, as it's a fairly new building. We won't have to worry about any neighbors being concerned about the loud noises or screams coming from the apartment next door.

We sit outside in the Impala across the street, just watching. It's late enough at night, or I guess I should say early enough in the morning, that nobody's out.

Dean orders Sam and me to get down when he spots the god leisurely strolling down the street. When Ares heads into the building, we all sit back up and stare across the street.

The light flicks on upstairs and then we're out of the car and headed over to kill ourselves a Greek god.

Dean pours the hind blood out of the vial over his knife as we walk. Sam and I are also equipped with a couple of guns and knives each, but they're not going to do much good against who we're facing. No permanent damage, anyway.

We reach the apartment building. Sam tries the door, but it's locked. He kneels down and pulls out his lock pick and in a matter of twenty seconds, the lock clicks open and we go in.

The two brothers are completely silent as we walk up the stairs; all I can hear from them is the faint rustling of their clothing as they move. I, however, am not so experienced in walking lightly, and I wince when my shoes make a conspicuous thud and slight squeak with every step I take.

Dean glares at me for a moment as we're going up, but for the most part, thankfully, the two of them don't seem to mind much.

When we reach the second story, stealth doesn't seem to be on the Winchesters' minds as much. Sam and I pull out our guns and we walk to the end of the hallway, to the door we know to be to Ares's apartment, and Sam kicks it open.

It slams against the wall of the apartment with a bang.

Ares had been looking out the window at the empty street below, but now he turns to look at us, an amused look on his face, like he's been expecting us. He probably has.

What immediately strikes me is his eyes. He's no longer wearing the sunglasses that people have described him in. Instead, his eyes are visible and quite mesmerizing, the irises flickering orange and red. I feel a shiver run down my spine.

He gives off a pugnacious vibe, like he's itching for a fight. I can't help but tense up, suddenly eager to brawl as well. His mood is contagious.

"Hello, boys," he says, sounding vaguely interested. I walk out from behind Sam and he adds, "And girl."

Without further ado, Dean charges the god.

Ares lazily slaps the knife out of Dean's hand and throws Dean ten feet into the opposite wall.

Sam is eyeing the knife's location across the room, calculating how long it will take to get there and if he has a chance to pick it up.

"Sam, isn't it?" Ares asks contemptuously, sauntering between Sam and the blade. He must be able to read minds, or else someone's told him about us. Either option sounds reasonable. "Sam. You trust big brother Dean, don't you? You really shouldn't. He's been screwing your girlfriend right under your nose. How couldn't you see that?"

It's not true, and Sam knows it, but I see the expression on his face change from determination to betrayal and anger anyway. The gun he's holding, pointed at Ares, changes direction slowly, seemingly against Sam's will, until it's aimed directly at Dean's head.

"Sammy," Dean says to his brother. "This isn't you."

"Sam," I say softly, starting to step between his gun and Dean.

Still staring straight ahead at his brother, he pulls the trigger. The bullet rips past my arm, grazing it just enough to cause a blaze of agony, but fortunately it misses Dean. I've gotta, say, I was not expecting Sam to shoot. I back up slowly, holding a hand over the gash on my upper arm. Blood's dripping out between my fingers.

"What did you do to him?" I snarl at Ares, lifting up my gun to point it at Ares head.

"Katherine," Ares says, looking at me with a malicious smile. "Were you aware that these two young men were going to leave you behind after you all killed me? Such a shame you liked them so much."

Red flashes before my eyes. Suddenly I forget about protecting Dean from Sam and Sam from himself. I'm furious. They promised they wouldn't leave me behind, they promised I'd get to travel with them… and after everything I'd been through with Sam, everything he said last night…

I drop my gun, craving more direct retaliation against the brothers' lying. Sam's closest, standing right next to me, and I punch him in the face as hard as I can before he can even turn away from Dean. His gun drops and clatters out of his hand, and I pull my fist back, ready to punch again. I can feel more blood trickling onto my already sticky fingers from where the knuckles split.

Before I can hit him again, Sam catches my fist in his palm. He kicks my feet out from underneath me and I hit the ground, hard. My breath's knocked out of me and pain flares in my injured arm. My vision goes black for half a second.

When my vision clears, I sit up slowly, still dazed. Sam's turned away from me and back towards his brother. He fires a shot, but Dean's already out of the way, scrambling behind Ares to pick up the knife again, so the bullet just hits the wall.

Dean's back on his feet with the knife in his hand a second later, and Sam is just about to shoot again, when Dean fluidly appears next to him and knocks the gun out of his hand. "Sorry, Sammy," Dean says, punching Sam square in the jaw and knocking him out. "It's just so hard to concentrate with you trying to kill me."

Ares is looking at Dean now. "Katherine is trying to take Sam away from you," he claims, which is not true, as a matter of fact. I know it's not. I don't want Sam orDean, the double-crossing bastards.

Dean ignores the god and I can see a flash of worry pass over Ares's face.

"Look at that, you son of a bitch," Dean growls, a grin on his face that kind of scares me. "That's not going to work on me. What are you going to do now?"

"Katherine wants to kill you," Ares says, his voice growing frantic. He begins to back up slowly.

Now that claim, that's true. I do want to kill him, even though he doesn't seem to be taking Ares seriously. I know I would never be able to win in a fist fight against him, and he's too far away anyway. So I pick up the gun on the ground, careful not to use my wounded arm, and point it at Dean. Sam's unconscious on the ground next to me, an easy target, but I'll deal with him later. He's not going anywhere.

But then Dean's too close to Ares. I don't want to kill Ares. Later, maybe. But if I get Ares out of the way now, then I won't be able to take down Dean alone, not when he's solely focused on me. The two of them are fighting, rapidly punching and swinging and blocking and I can barely see the red-stained blade as it flashes through the air.

Ares is really holding his own against Dean, something I wouldn't expect based on what I've heard about the hunter's remarkable fighting skills. I keep my gun up, but I still don't have any clear shots.

I get tired of watching them. I just want Dean dead and bleeding on the floor. So I take a shot, hoping to hit Dean but not caring much beyond that.

It doesn't hit him. What a disappointment. It does, however, hit Ares's leg (hey, I was getting really shaky from blood loss, of course my aim wasn't good), causing him to stumble. In the fraction of a second the god's off balance, Dean has driven the blood-covered knife into the chest of his opponent, right through the heart.

As soon as he does it, realization at what I'd been trying to do hits me. Why the hell was I trying to kill Dean? I drop the gun I'm holding in my hands and take a few steps back, away from it.

Dean lets Ares's lifeless body crumple to the floor and turns to look at me warily.

"You done trying to kill me?" he asks tiredly.

"Uh," I start. "I think so."

Sam groans from a few feet away. He opens his eyes and sits up. "What happened?" he asks, taking in the dead body across the room.

"The bastard put you and Katie under a spell," Dean informs him.

"Oh yeah…" He shakes his head to clear it. "Sorry. To both of you."

"Ditto," I say.

"You're both forgiven," Dean says.

"Hey, Dean, why weren't you affected?" I ask, remembering what Ares was saying to him.

"He wasn't affected?" Sam asks me, getting to his feet.

"No, I don't know why. Ares told him… Ares told him I wanted to take you away from him and that I wanted to kill him."

"Maybe he tells you what you're already half-expecting to hear," Dean suggests. "Or maybe what you're most worried about happening. And I just trust you both so much that it didn't work on me."

Sam's cheeks turn red uncharacteristically, as he thinks back to what Ares told him. Dean walks over to us and throws an arm over Sam's shoulders and gently places an arm over mine, careful not to bother my bad arm too much. "It's okay, Sammy. I promise I won't steal your girlfriend."

"So what do we do with the body?" I ask, as we all stare at the corpse soaking in a pool of blood in front of us. It kind of ruins the awkward yet warm and fuzzy feeling we were all experiencing a moment ago.

"Gotta go burn it," Dean says, removing his arms from over our shoulders and going to do something about the body in front of us.

Sam and I turn to each other.

"Listen, Sam, I'm sorry… I'm sorry I punched you. I really do trust you not to leave me. I mean, at this point anyway."

"I'm the one who should be apologizing, Katie," he says, glancing down at my profusely bleeding arm. "I can't believe… I can't believe I did this to you."

"It wasn't you, Sam, it was Ares."

He sighs and runs the tips of his fingers along my cheek lightly. "I want you to know… I trust you too. I'd trust you with my life."

I stand on my toes, and, pulling Sam closer with my good arm, give him a long kiss. Kind of an apology kiss, I guess you could say, for both of us.

We're snapped out of it by Dean. "Hey," he says, clapping his hands a couple of times to get our attention. "Stop with the smooching and help me clean this up."