Kat wasn't used to waking up disoriented. She thought she had only fallen asleep for a few minutes because the gun fire and train whistle blaring from the TV. She opened her eyes to find it was daylight and the sound effects were from early morning cartoons rather than an insomniac's western. She was leaning on the back of the couch, head resting on the top of it, legs pulled in to her chest. She heard a noise from across the room and haunted by last night's ordeal, she shot her head up expecting to see a specter of her uncle but instead saw Dean; placing the empty beer bottles next to the sink.
"Good morning" He chirped, taking no notice of the suddenness of her movement.
"I wasn't supposed to sleep" She lamented, rubbing her eyes and thrusting herself of the couch sleepily. She stretched her arms up as far as they would go and looked at Dean quizzically.
"The funny thing about humans…" he began, "…is that they have to sleep." He turned around to face her and stepped forward grabbing a paper bag from the fridge and plopping it on the table. "They also need to eat." He finished pointing at it.
Kat smelled melted cheese and bacon; her stomach immediately betrayed her and growled. She didn't want to dive in however. She remembered leaning her head on Dean's shoulder last night for comfort but didn't want to show her vulnerability in the light of day.
Dean opened the bag letting the full smell waft over the room and placed their breakfast sandwiches in front of opposite chairs. "You always have something to say. And since you're not, I can only assume you're not used to people doing things for you. But if there's one thing I can do, its provide booze and greasy food. So don't sweat it."
Kat deflected his psychoanalysis and just said, "Thanks." She sat down at the table and opened the package but waited for Dean to be seated with her before she ate. They ate the first few bites of breakfast in silence until Dean's phone started screaming classic rock chords. He deftly picked it up and greeted, "Sam. What's up?" Dean continued the conversation one-sided, never putting the phone on speaker. He eyed Kat as she ate her food timidly. He knew it was rude of him to keep her out of the loop but he was scared for her. He didn't want Sam to say something and worry her if there was nothing. If there was something, he would handle it; because he would be the reason it happened.
"Well we had an unexpected visitor last night." He paused… "No, it wasn't Cas" he scoffed.
"What's a 'Cas'?" asked Kat, suddenly intrigued. Dean rolled his eyes and said warningly but not without affection, "Oh you'll find out."
He stopped for a moment to let Sam speak. "No I think another monster's after her. Yeah man, maybe its pissed we killed its friend? It did say Rowena released them so maybe she knows somehow? Pissed we killed her goon? I don't know." He paused again, this time for a little longer. "Yeah, this just means I'm staying until we're all safe here. You just handle Cas, get him back to fighting weight and I'll handle this pint-sized problem." He remarked, looking to Kat for her reaction. She rolled her eyes, raised a brow and grimaced playfully. "Ok. Bye."
"Kind of a blasé goodbye isn't it? I mean, with what you guys do? You just never know" she observed.
"Sam and I have both died…multiple times. We're still kickin'. If anything, goodbyes are something of a strong suit." He revealed.
Kat was beyond fascinated. She practically had to bite her tongue to keep from asking for more information. She knew Dean had a lot of secrets, had seen a lot of shit. It was one of the first things she noticed about him but that was definitely a conversation for another time.
"Remind me to ask you all about that, when my own life isn't in danger…ok?" she demanded.
"Will do." Dean knew it was a false promise but he jokingly saluted anyway.
Kat cleared away the remains of breakfast quickly, hoping to clean the apartment a little while Dean was in the shower. She buzzed around as fast as could but she felt weighed down by the uncertainty of being hunted. Her uncle's passing had already been a fresh wound but having his memory stained by something monstrous, she just couldn't shake.
After her work was done she sat down at her computer and pulled up every single file she could on creatures in the pagan lexicon. In just ten minutes she had gone through three sheets of paper scribbling. Deciding that was wasteful she went to her closet and pulled out a presentation board. As infantile as Venn diagrams may be, she made three on each side and tacked it into the wall. She was halfway through scribbling a possibility into the second diagram when Dean emerged from the bathroom.
He regarded her with amusement and grinned. His hair was standing up on all ends, probably because he had just towel dried it. His jeans were heavy with humidity but he wore just a black t-shirt without the flannel she'd become accustomed to.
"Is this not how hunters do things?" She asked feeling a little sheepish.
"Close but no cigar." He answered, still smiling. "It's usually newspaper clippings and red yarn, kind of like old school cops. But this…this is a grade school twist. I can work with this." He conceded.
She was proud the seasoned pro had accepted her method and turned to continue her work. Dean however, went to the second-hand coffee machine.
She had listed things like: Revenant, Native-American dream spirit, Zombie, Shapeshifter, and Fylgja. She arranged the diagram groupings by mythologies and abilities (according to legend) and stood back. Dean holding two mugs of coffee, walked up behind her. He handed her the mug and admired her handy work as well.
"What the hell is a F-yuhl-gee-ah?" he stuttured.
"It's part of Norse tradition. They're like spirits who are meant to guide you to your fate, they appear in dreams."
"Well, there's a first time for everything." He retorted, slurping his steaming coffee.
Kat's brain was starting to swim from all the contradictions in the lore she knew and the parameters she had to work within.
"I'm frustrated. I just can't decide whether or not Rowena would stick to purely Celtic tradition. Would she extend to Norse because that, and Celtic are so closely tied? Or, since we're in America would she screw heritage and try out new terrible playthings? Could she even do that? Pick up something entirely new but practice her form of witchcraft?" She nearly shouted in exasperation.
Dean was a little awed by how quickly her mind asked all the right questions. "I think Rowena would stick to Celtic. She's old-fashioned, very Scottish. She's devoted, gotta give her that. I don't pretend to know everything about witchcraft but I don't think you can trade magic and its matching culture like Pokémon cards." He hoped his response was helpful. He looked to her for validation.
"Ok so, for the sake of a working theory, we can cross at least five 'possibles' off the list." She ferociously struck out: zombie, and dream spirit, along with a few others listed on the opposite side.
"You told me you saw crows. What things do you know of that use birds as omens?" Dean tried desperately to come up with a viable suggestion. Kat didn't move for a moment, her eyes looked without seeing ahead of her as she bit the side of her cheek. Suddenly her eyes opened wide and she darted to the computer. Her fingers flew across the keys so fast the computer beeped in protest. Finally she had found what she was searching for.
"Sluagh." She breathed.
"A what now?" Dean questioned, leaning in to properly hear Kat.
"It's Irish. The soul of a dead sinner, it takes the form of a loved one in order to steal the soul of the living. There's one part that doesn't make sense. It's probably why I forgot about it…Sluagh's steal the soul of a dying person…..I'm not dying." Kat had turned a pale shade of gray as she tossed around the idea of her own mortality.
Dean just stared at her. He couldn't think fast enough to form a comforting response. She had just confirmed what he and Sam both had known for a while. Once people allied with them, a person was marked for death. Shoving his own self-doubt aside he said, "The Kelpie wasn't an actual horse. Maybe the legend has been messed with. Lost in translation you know? It say how to kill it?"
"Vague talk about keeping your "west-facing window closed". If we're going with your theory maybe what we need to do is open the window. The window in my room faces east though…" she trailed off, tapping her finger on the table in contemplation.
"The sun rises in the east. What if you kill it with the light?" Dean suggested.
"You are literally a life-saver Dean Winchester." She awed, playfully smacking her head to highlight her own ineptitude.
"Well, I do it professionally." He flirted with his usual charm. Kat knew if she looked longer into his eyes she'd be lost there so she changed the subject.
"So how do I kill it? I've just gotta open the window?" She asked skeptically.
"It's your best shot. But there's also no way you're going in alone." Dean added with a sly smile. He pulled out his phone and dialed Sam's number. When he answered, Dean asked "Is Cas up for a flight?
"What do you mean an angel is delivering us some magic dream root!?" Kat cried. She had taken in a lot since she had started this crusade but actual angels? She couldn't figure out why she was willing to accept all of the pagan creatures that had come her way but once one of them was divine she couldn't fathom it. Her mind felt like a sinking ship with water sloshing around inside threatening to breach the bulkheads and take the whole thing down.
"So not only are angels real, but you're telling me they are also mules for recreational drugs. What? Are we going to roll this herb up and smoke it? Maybe sync the Wizard of Oz to the Dark Side of the Moon?" She derided. She was pacing as Dean sat calm at the table. His smug calmness infuriated her. Kat was jealous of him in the sense that he never had to endure this discovery period. He'd always known about the supernatural so everything new he came across was just added to the journal pages. It was maybe his resilience that she envied more than the privilege of knowing what was out there.
"You did college right." He remarked, reminding her of the comment she'd made before she allowed her thoughts to digress. It was at that moment Kat heard a deep rushing noise behind her. It sounded like a cross between a loose sail on a ship flapping in the wind, and the commanding force of a bird of prey's feathers battling with the wind.
She whipped around and saw exactly what she expected not to. The angel was young, attractive, and disheveled. She cocked her head to the side as if a sideways view would filter him to become the massive, halo bearing, winged creature that belonged on Mount Olympus she thought he'd be.
"I've been told excessive staring is rude". The raw quality of his voice startled her. She stayed where she was but quickly responded to his bluntness.
"Pointing out rudeness, is rude." She retorted, excited to see how the celestial being would respond.
"That…that was meant in jest." He said, somehow both monotone and full of hurt. His eyes tightened as he looked at her shrewdly. It was like he was truly trying to ascertain her essence as a human based on only one glance.
Kat decided to alleviate his internal battle and extended her hand to him stating, "So you're Cas."
He mimicked her motion and offered up his hand as well. "And you're Katherine."
Dean who had been watching the entire situation bemusedly clapped his hands, re-alerting the both of them to his presence. He stood up and asked, "Do you have our drugs?"
Once Kat was engaged in the kitchen boiling water to steep the root in, Castiel pulled Dean aside and said lowly, "I could stay and help, if you need."
"I think we've got this one…simple salt and burn. We've tangled with dream root before." Dean answered nonchalantly, sneaking a glance at Kat who was carefully distributing water into mugs.
Castiel noticed this and prodded, "She is special." It was both a statement and a question, neither of which Dean was in the mood to handle.
"She's a case. She's helping us out with the Rowena thing and we're keeping her alive. Don't complicate this Cas.
Accepting Dean's evasion for now Castiel stepped curtly forward and said, "Goodbye Katherine. I'm sure I will see you again."
He didn't wait for Kat to respond before vanishing before her eyes. "He do that a lot?" she asked.
"Yes." Dean looked at the mugs and added, "You ready for this?" as he pulled out the bag and went to the small counter placing a heap in each mug. "It tastes like ass. I need some DNA from you, so that it can tell what dream I'm supposed to in."
Kat took a deep breath and looked into his eyes yet again feeling lost. She pulled out a strand of her wild hair, dropped it in his mug and said, "Let's get started."