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Dean watched as Kat fell back. The blood already pouring from her stomach. Her eyes were normal, and slightly glazed. He and Sam had screamed her name as her body bent over. The slug embedding itself into her abdomen.
"I swear to God, if you fucked up my wings I'll kill you. Slowly," she hissed at a shocked Jo.
Dean rushed to her and grabbed towels he'd used on others. Sam turned on Jo.
"Why didn't you listen?" he screamed, running to Kat. Dean was cradling her head and murmuring into her hair.
"You'll be fine. You'll be fine. It'll be okay."
"Yea. Through and through, nothing vital I don't think," Kat's strangled voice said. She sat up, pushing against Dean's restraints. "I was trying…to tell you. I shot at those people, outside…and I couldn't see anything underneath," she looked at Dean.
"You couldn't see the demons?" Dean asked, knowing that she could.
"N-No. Not even b-black smoke." She coughed and wiped the blood on her jeans. She looked at Sam. "You need…the ring. He's outside. On the far right, behind the cafe. He's been watching both parties. Turning them against each other. Get the ring…and it'll stop."
Sam nodded and ran out. Dean was still panicking. Kat braced herself against him and stood carefully. Her legs wobbled and her blood-loss was beginning to affect her. She looked at Dean and lifted her shirt from the back to expose the exit wound.
"Did it hit my wings?"
"N-no…exited right in between," Dean said, struggling to not cry.
"I need you to get me…whiskey and a lighter and dental floss," she commanded, taking out a machete with a wide flat blade from a thigh holster. Dean barked the orders to the stunned refugees and they complied. She popped the top of the whiskey with her teeth and drank a fourth of it. She poured some onto her open wound, taking off her shirt completely to leave her in a black bra. She sat back down heavily.
Dean was taken aback by her audacity and how well she was doing. She glared at Jo.
"This is what happens when you don't listen to the experienced ones," she said in a baby voice.
"Listen here, you," Ellen started but Dean stopped her.
"No. Jo was wrong and she might have killed her," he started in a hard unforgiving voice. "Both of you should have listened. But you always have to be right. Damn it!" he swore as she held the lighter underneath the blade, waiting for it to heat.
"How was I supposed to believe her?" Jo shouted.
"Because she knows better than you!"
"I doubt that!"
"I've been seeing and dealing with demons since I was five years old," Kat said bitterly. "Hey Dean…"
"Yea?"
"This is why I prefer hunting alone."
"I see your point now."
She laughed lightly and inspected the blade. It radiated heat, and though it was not the ideal bright orange, it would do. She arched her back, pushing the open wound forward, then brought the flat of the blade to her skin.
The sizzle of flesh and the raw screams from Kat were the only sounds in the store. The refugees had taken a silent remorseful vigil, knowing the part they had played. Dean turned his head, unable to look at the contorted agony on her face. The bullet had gone straight through the knife wound that had been healing. She had to pull out the old stitches from the blood, wincing as she did. The machete did what it was supposed to, and the bleeding stopped.
"Dean. I know it's a lot to ask…but-" she started. Dean took the blade and lighter and prepared to repeat the process on her back. Jo was silent. "Hey bitch!"
"What?"
"Aren't you going to apologize?" she asked.
"Um..I…I" she started.
Dean glared at her. "Jo. This is your fault. You did this to her. You fucking shot her! You better fucking apologize and then I better not see you again. At least not until I don't want to kill you."
"But Dean I, it was an accident!"
"No. It wasn't." Dean seethed.
"Jo! Stop being a child! You wanted to be a hunter, then act like one." Ellen ordered. She left her daughter and walked over the cringing girl on the dirty linoleum. Kat tried to muffle her screams as she threaded each stitch into her stomach. Ellen held her shoulders. "Honey, I'm so sorry. We should have listened."
"S'Okay. But I don't plan on hunting with you again…any time soon."
"Understandable to say the least. You gotta lotta John's spunk. He and Bobby had a big hand in your life, didn't they?"
"Fathers…I..ahhh….never had," she said. Dean tapped her indicating his readiness and pressed the blade again to her skin, carefully avoiding her wings. Her scream ripped through the quiet store again. Sam rushed back in with pain on his features.
"Kat!" he screamed. He looked helplessly on as Dean held the flat of the blade to her.
"Did…did you get it?" She forced out, water leaking out of her eyes.
Sam held up a bloody finger, a solid gold ring attached to it. Kat sighed in relief and stood again.
"Stitch me up later. I'm getting to fuck outta here," she said bitterly. She stood wobbly and limped toward the doors. Dean and Sam just looked on, shocked. Kat smirked and continued to walk towards Jo. When she was close enough, she smiled at the blonde woman. Then she pulled back her arm and let it shoot forward in a fist. Jo was out before she hit the ground. "That felt good."
Dean laughed loudly and walked to her, and let Kat lean on him as they walked out. Sam hurried to catch up to them and bid goodbye to the shell-shocked people.