Caterina curled up on the back seat of the Impala. "Sorry Dean," she apologized, her voice muffled from one of Sam's flannels that she was using as a pillow. "I'll kill the thing next time, I swear."
Dean shook his head, staring straight ahead. His hand gripped the steering wheel firmly as he responded, "No. You don't have to. I was being too harsh last night." He glanced at her form in the mirror. "Get some rest. You're going to train."
Caterina murmured an okay into the flannel. "What kind of training?"
"Fighting. You'll need the skills."
"Conditioning too, Caterina," Sam added. "You need to be in shape."
"I am in shape," she muttered. "Person shaped."
"No, really," Sam said. "Did you do any sports when you lived in Massachusetts?"
"Not really. I swam and played tennis, but those were on-and-off. I know how to ride horses," she suggested.
"Like John Wayne?" Dean joked.
"No, not like John Wayne," she answered sleepily. "I'm okay at it. My friend's family owned a ranch."
"Anything you're good at?" Sam questioned lightly.
"No. I'm not good or best at anything. I'm a, a-" she paused to yawn, "a crappy hunter too." She sighed and snuggled deeper into the leather seats and rolled up flannel. The smell of spilled whiskey, old leather, and a masculine muskiness wafted through her nose.
"That's not true," Sam told her kindly. "You're the perfect hunter. It's in your blood."
The corner of her lips curled up in a lazy smile. "Science says otherwise. I can't inherit skills."
"And that's why you're going to train." Dean tried to sound strict. "Sleep, and if I hear another word out of you, I'm going to look through your message history on your phone."
"Mhm," she whispered before letting drowsiness overtake her.
Several hours later, the Impala pulled up to an abandoned, overgrown field. The sun shone brightly overhead, heating up the inside of the black car till it felt like the metal was burning. Sam and Dean automatically got out and stretched, cramped from the long drive.
It was Dean's turn to wake up Caterina, or as he and Sam like to call it, Cat Duty. Dean knocked on her window and stuck his arm through the front door. He rolled down the window and shook her shoulder gently. "Wake up, Cat Stevens. We saved you a burrito."
She turned away from him roughly. "No… five minutes…."
"Nope. Up. Now. Wake up and smell the roses."
"Are there roses?"
"No, it's a metaphor. There are wildflowers," Dean acquiesced.
"I can smell things when I'm asleep," Caterina muttered.
"Just get out of my car!" Dean complained. Then he added, "Besides, your burrito is getting old."
"You're old."
Dean shook his head in mock disappointment. "I didn't want to have to do this the hard way, but out. Now." He grabbed Caterina by the shoulders and yanked her out of the car, her eyes widening in surprise.
"Ow! Hey!" She yelped groggily.
Dean stood her upright and ruffled her hair. "Great, you're awake! Eat your burrito and we'll get down to business."
She sighed and grabbed the foil-wrapped cylinder, humming, "To defeat… the Huns."
A short while later, after she'd downed the whole burrito and stolen a sip or two of Sam's coffee (Dean's was too bitter for her taste), she decided she was well enough awake to get beaten to a pulp by her two bodyguards. She jogged over to where they were warming up their punches and kicks on an old dead tree.
"Ten laps around the clearing," Sam called without even looking at her. "Warm up."
She groaned and took off. Over half an hour later, Caterina collapsed on the spiky weeds adorning the small field. "I'm done," she told the dry dirt, almost every muscle hurting and her throat parched.
A big hand grabbed her sweaty arm. Sam. "Get up," he said supportively, "Time to practice ducking."
"Water."
Sam chuckled. "Yeah, right. Go ahead and be back soon."
She pushed herself out of the dirt and made a break for the Impala's trunk. When she got there, she collapsed over the side, trying to stabilize her legs. Dean glanced down at her in amusement.
"Need hydration?"
"That would be nice."
He rolled his eyes good-naturedly and passed her a bottle of water. "Drink up."
She took the plastic bottle and downed the whole thing. "Done."
Dean was impressed. "Wow. Okay." He rubbed his hands together. "What do you say we get some action?"
Caterina whipped her head to the side. Her ponytail flew through the air as Sam's fist sailed past her ear. She barely had time to catch a breath before his other arm swung her way. She grabbed it and twisted, disabling him for a moment.
He was back in a fighting stance in an instant. She attempted a kick at his groin. He grabbed her ankle and pulled up as she fell to the ground. She landed with a thump and looked up bitterly. Sam stuck out his hand to help her up and she took it, wincing, as he pulled her up.
"Better this time," he told her. "You were faster, but your kick was too slow. Remember," he stopped walking away and turned to face her. "Don't attack from too far or I can grab you. Get close, be agile, and you can avoid getting hit. Got it?"
Caterina nodded. "Uh huh. Faster. Closer. Blah blah. Let's go."
Sam grabbed her shoulder in concern. "Are you sure? You might need a little rest-"
"I've got it."
Her stern glare made him retreat in surrender. "Okay, okay. Another round."
Half an hour later, Caterina staggered along without a complaint. Half the time, she fell without a push from Sam.
"We're done," Sam decided, worried for her health and safety. "You're completely worn out."
"I… can do this," she muttered darkly. "I can get better."
"No," he informed, "You're only hurting yourself. We're going back."
"No!" She heaved in a breath, trying to control her jagged breathing. "I can do it. Let me do it!"
Sam looked sympathetically at the frail-looking girl trying to pick herself off the ground. "No," he decided, "We're done. No more fighting."
"No…" She didn't have the energy to finish her thought. Sam scooped her up and carried her bridal-style back to the Impala. Her shoulders slumped in defeat and her eyes closed blearily. Before they made the twenty feet back to the car, she was already fast asleep.
Over the next few days, the trio decided to take it easy. They booked a three-bed motel and Caterina went to school. Sam and Dean investigated various nearby cases during the day and trained Caterina after school.
Still, with all that practice, Caterina couldn't shake the feeling that she wasn't getting better. Talent may be coursing through her veins, but she didn't have the skill. And skill is a learned thing. It was a week. She'd practiced fighting, shooting, stabbing, and self-defense. Any other person, she knew, would be getting a lot better. But she couldn't see her progress and that was scaring her.
On the second Thursday after her training incident, she grabbed Dean's keys and went out to the parked car to grab a few things.
Caterina jumped at the reflection in the window and turned around, scared. A stout man in a business suit smirked at her. "Scared, now, are you?" he asked teasingly.
She forced herself not to back away, feeling around in her pocket for her dagger. "Who are you?"
The man blinked, exposing his demonic black eyes. Caterina sucked in a sharp breath and swiftly navigated her dagger to where his heart should be. He grabbed her arm and twisted it, making her gasp in pain and release her dagger. Then he blinked again, returning his eyes back to normal and stuck out his hand for her to shake.
"Crowley," he said, bowing dramatically, "King of Hell and top dog crossroads demon."
Caterina shook his hand warily. "Let me guess: you know exactly who I am."
"Bingo!" he exclaimed, jabbing his finger in the air. "I'm here to offer you a deal. Only for you, darling."
"I figured," she retorted, fighting the urge to run away as fast as her legs could take her.
Crowley gave her a look of contempt. "It doesn't hurt to be polite, especially since I'm trying to help you out here." Caterina closed her mouth in confusion. "Where was I? Oh yes. The deal. Are you ready for it?"
Caterina glared at him stonily.
"I'll take that as a yes." He began pacing, rubbing his hands together craftily. "What do you say about being the best hunter in the history of… ever?" He grinned like he was offering her a trip to Disneyland.
She pursed her lips. "Uh huh. Be more specific."
"Oh, you know, the basics," Crowley drawled. "No fears holding you back, loads more confidence and independence, and let's not forget: more skill and talent than anyone else." He paused for dramatic effect. "You'd be the best."
That last sentence struck her. All her life, she'd been overshadowed by someone else. Now was her chance and all she had to do was agree. But was it worth it? "What's the catch?" she demanded.
Crowley feigned innocence. "What catch? I'm just trying to help you out here, darling-"
She scoffed. "Yeah, sure. I may be new to this whole supernatural thing, but I know a demon isn't going to do anything that doesn't benefit them in a way. What's your catch?"
The demon smirked again. "So you're interested. The catch is…" He glanced at her, waiting for her reaction. "There is none. This is an investment. I'm counting on this to help me out in the long run. Nothing you need to worry about."
Caterina wasn't convinced. "How so?"
"Come again?"
"How am I going to help you in the future?" How could a talented hunter help the king of Hell?
A sly look appeared on the demon's face. "Like I said, it's an investment. Remember Golchen? That slimy bastard wants to steal my crown and I'm not particularly fond of that notion." He folded his hands together sincerely. "Now what I'd like to do is wipe that squealing nit right off the map-" He halted, trying to calm his fury. He looked up to the skies in a seething rage for a few seconds before regaining his composure. "But he has his own league of traitorous supporters. You're his special protege - or that's what he's planned. Do you want to be the soldier of that disgrace or take my help and owe me nothing?"
She made a thinking face. "And if I agree, the only thing that happens is I become the best hunter? The best skills, no side effects?"
"No side effects," he repeated smugly. "I never break a deal."
Caterina nodded. "Then I'm in."
