The fire was calming. Though it was representative of all that was chaos, it flowed like a river through the sky; pure and steady. As if the stream had abruptly hit a stone, the flame spread itself outward, then rushed back into itself to become one again. Dean stood there watching the flame lick the blackness uncaring as Sam pushed him out of the fireman that rushed forward with their hoses. "Useless", he thought. Because the only thing that mattered in the husk that would remain of the home was gone. Kat, was gone.
Dean felt the hope of anything that could have been, vacate his chest as he methodically left the sidewalk and started towards the Impala. Sam, rushing his steps to catch up to his brother, called out "Dean! Dude, stop!" but Dean kept going.
When they reached the car Sam grabbed Dean's jacket and thrust him around to face him. Dean had been avoiding looking into Sam's eyes because he knew the desperation that would reside there
It was the look his little brother didn't even know he intentionally gave when all hope was lost. It was like he hoped, that his big brother would know what to do, that he'd fix it. And Dean just didn't know how.
"We have to stay. We don't know what happened, maybe she got out." He pleaded. Dean wished he could be as optimistic as Sam managed to be. But he just shook his head, steeling himself against the lump in his throat, giving way to the fire raging in his chest.
"There's nothing left for us here! Rowena won this round and we're only leaving ourselves exposed and vulnerable by staying. We're going back to the bunker to regroup." He fumed turning his back on his brother. He opened the door to the driver's seat and sat.
"But Dean, how are we gonna figure out what happened if we turn tail and hide?" Sam implored.
"I am not hiding." Dean said stopping in the middle of pulling his leg into the cab. He left it grounded on the pavement, one hand laying across his lap, the other gripping the steering wheel. "Tonight is the third time in my life, I've stood watching, as someone burned alive. I need a minute." He concluded. Sam stopped. Frozen by the gravity of his brother's words.
Silence hung between them. It was dense like pound cake but devoid of all sweetness. Sam for a moment, allowed himself to shut down, giving into misery. He felt misery for the memories he relived every time he felt loss.
He remembered Jessica, he remembered losing Dean to hell. The list went on and for Sam the pain he felt was more about the 'what ifs' than the loss itself. He mourned the life that Kat would never have.
Sam was disturbed by the tickle of his phone in his front pocket. He jerkily retrieved it, pulling himself from his melancholy.
He swiped the screen open to the anonymous text. He turned his head to the side and read aloud, "Mint Motel. Richmond Heights. 338." His voice hung in the air as the brothers shared a daring, excited look.
"Dean, start the car" Sam ordered.
The pair of them pulled up in front of a shabby motel eleven miles outside the city. The ride went by quickly, their minds caught up in the possibility of what waited for them.
The room was in the third row of doors. Most lights were extinguished but a few, including the one labeled 338 shone out through the curtains. They swiftly parked, and reached for their guns. Dean led, with Sam covering their backs, guns held erect like rapiers, waiting to pierce flesh with the utmost precision. They stood on opposite sides of the door. Dean knelt down and simply picked the lock. The door creaked open and they burst inside clearing the room with the methodic jerk of their guns.
There was no one there. They looked around in confusion but saw only a few small boxes curiously placed in the corner of the room. Dean walked over to them and rifled through one containing clothing. Underneath them was the record Kat had purchased with him, stood up abruptly turn a little sideways to face Sam who had come to stand next to him, never dropping his weapon.
"These are Kat's." he stated. He turned back towards the door and kicked the small desk next to the boxes in anger and was suddenly pelted in the face with a lukewarm liquid.
He spluttered, raising his weapon but not firing because the substance temporarily blurred his vision. He heard Sam react similarly and used one hand to wipe the stinging fluid from his face.
As his vision became clear he searched for the source of the attack and landed on the small figure before them. Her eyes were wild with fear and doubt, every muscle tense grasping a small mug. She looked as though she was ready to smash it against Dean's head but, didn't. In a matter of seconds her eyes went from skeptical to satisfied and she sighed, "Thank God! I thought for sur—"
Kat was unable to finish her sentence however because Dean raced forward with overwhelming stoicism. His lips met hers, primal and without thought. She felt her knees weaken as he intertwined his hands in her frizzy hair, pulling her head back to match his. For a moment the whole of everything Kat knew was thrown into a state of flux. Unaware of anything but how petrified she was of the vehemence of the last two seconds, she pulled away. Staring into Dean's green eyes she exhaled, "What the hell was that for?"
Hands still in her hair, he breathed her air and said, "You matter to me. That's why."
Sam cleared his throat then and their reaction was as if he had burned them with a hot rod.
Kat moved backwards bashfully. There was something different in that kiss than the other times she and Dean had been together. It was possessed by true emotion. They weren't driven together out of necessity. But she wouldn't dare express that. She dropped the mug which she was still inexplicably holding and Dean rounded on her.
"What the hell is your problem?" he shouted.
"My problem?!" she screeched back.
"You didn't feel like calling to let us in on the plan?" he accused.
"They were following me. I wasn't going to assume evil entities would forget to tap the phone!" she cried, exasperated.
"How did you get away?" Sam intoned, stepping forward so he could be seen in Dean's periphery and included in the feud that was happening.
"Well I got the cauldron but I knew it wasn't safe to go home. I came here and hid it. But I also knew that they'd eventually find me anywhere I went so I did what any sane person would do. I led them to the house made them think I was inside, and then burned it to the ground for the insurance money." She declared, looking a little satisfied with herself.
Sam smiled at her gumption, but pressed, "How did you know it'd work?"
"I didn't. But I was reading those books you left me and I remembered a class I took on Celtic Myth and Legend, so I figured my only chance was to fight them with the things I 'knew' would kill them. So, I broke into the health food store and stole some betony…" she explained.
"Are you serious?" interrupted Dean, incredulous and accusatory.
"What, was there a better way to defeat a race of Celtic supernatural monsters? I shouldn't have done everything in my power to get to the only thing I knew had any possibility of working?" she snapped. He fell silent, honestly just thankful she was there to fight with. "So…I just sprinkled the floor with gas and the herbs and waited inside, once I heard them break through…I lit it up. Came straight here and texted you. But I got the room next door too just in case they survived and followed you."
"Is that what the face full of water was for?" Dean asked
"Well yeah, I saved some of the betony and mixed it with the water in the coffee machine. The ancient Celts believed it would dispel evil, so I hoped if I doused you with it, it would show and get-rid-of possession. I had no idea if it would work, but I hoped that if they had managed some hostile takeover it'd at least show me you guys were yourselves." She exhaled, finishing her saga.
"Well you did good." Congratulated Sam placing a hand on her shoulder and squeezing, smiling broadly.
"To be honest with you, I got it all from watching late night thrillers on TV." She laughed. Purely overjoyed that she'd managed to save herself without any intervention.
"I need a drink." Blurted Dean.
"Me too." Said Kat quietly, meeting his eyes for the first time after the kiss.
"I'm buying." Finished Sam. "Your place was up in flames when we got there. I'm sure you at least slowed them down." He said, hinting at the safety of leaving the motel room, which at that moment both boys noticed had been excellently warded.
"Oh… that's right…I'm homeless." Kat groaned. She walked away and sat on the rickety bed. She rubbed her forehead, not allowing herself to complain because she'd escaped the night's adventure with her life. The feeling that her tumultuous life had only just begun washed over her and she attempted to put everything into perspective.
"No you're not." Said Dean resolutely.
Twenty minutes later Sam had returned with a fifth of Jameson per Kat's request. She poured herself a healthy glass; one she found in the dilapidated TV stand. Sam took the second glass, leaving Dean to use the plastic cups next to the sink.
The three of them sat for a while talking and, letting the TV hum in the background as they absorbed the alcohol. Kat laid flat on her back, taking the furthest bed. Her legs dangled off the end. She felt the suspense release from her chest. It became easier to breathe in Dean's presence. She wondered if it was because he'd saved her life so many times or that he was the expert in accepting the reality of the unbelievable. He had faith in the things he'd seen. Kat had seen the things he'd seen but still a part of her remained stubborn, blind to the truth; she took comfort in his determination. Lost in her thoughts after conversation had died down she closed her eyes, leaving her glass on the floor next to the bed.
A few minutes went by before she heard Sam adjust himself in his seat and clear his throat. "Dude you went full chick flick moment back there"
"Shut up." Dean commanded quickly. Kat heard him move too, probably fueled by the uncomfortable-ness of what was coming. She wondered if she should let them know she was awake but curiosity got the better of her and she stayed still.
"No, really. You actually like her don't you?" Sam interrogated. Kat could feel his knowing smile radiating off of him in waves hitting her.
"It was…'the heeeeeeat of the moment'." Dean mimicked the Asia song. Though she couldn't see him, Kat could feel Dean moving along with the disjointed rhythm he was warbling.
"Dude, you know how I feel about that song." Sam said, pseudo-seriously.
"Come on, what was that, 8 years ago?" Dean jibed. Kat felt him rustle the bed sheets next to her and five seconds later heard the sink turn on and the clack of glass against Formica.
"Still. It's not the best memory. I'm tired. We've got a seven hour drive tomorrow. I'm gonna go to sleep. Kat said she rented out the next room too so, there's plenty of beds." Sam sighed as the carpet caused friction against his shoes. He left and Kat felt Dean relax. He hadn't sat down, or as far as she could tell. But there was heaviness to her left where she assumed she was. Once the door shut, she rolled over onto her stomach and propped her hand up underneath her chin.
Dean pretended not to jump, by reaching for the glass he'd taken from Sam to rinse. He pushed himself off of the bathroom counter towards the whiskey sitting on the table. Kat picked up her glass and thrust it forward.
"No. no. Falling asleep means you've had too much" He denied
Kat held it aloft again, unwavering in her demand. "I wasn't asleep. You guys should be more careful." She joked. He walked over and filled her glass, then sat down on the bed facing the door. What happened eight years ago?" she asked, laying on her side cradling the glass against her chest. She saw Dean's side profile through her lashes. His face was resigned, hiding a novel's worth of secrets.
"An eternal Tuesday." He shrugged vaguely. He tipped his glass upwards knocking back a gulp of the acidic liquid. Kat felt like he had lived a thousand lifetimes, not just one.
"Ooh…that was the day you died wasn't it? Tell me, you promised." She practically squeaked.
"It's complicated." He stated looking at her now. Taking in the old mattress practically swallowing her whole, making her curves seem even more drastic without support under them.
"I 'died' today. Everything's complicated now." Kat countered adding sarcasm on the word died. Highlighting its irony. The idea that mortality in this new world was a myth put a bemused smile on her face. Dean didn't know how he felt about much, but he loved that smile. It felt like he'd known it his whole life.
"So you did." He acknowledged. He took a deep breath and said, "Sam swears I died over a hundred times that day but we were trapped in a loop. It reset each time I did, so I don't remember it." The mystery spot wasn't hard for Dean to talk about for that very reason. He expected Kat to push further though, and he prepared himself to relive the hellhounds.
"But you did actually die once. And that one you obviously remember." Kat stated, dancing around the question she was burning to know the answer to. She let him think on it for a few seconds, seeing the horror flicker over his face, then saw him actively retract it, like a handler controlling a lion. His pain was vicious, that much she could tell. "What did it feel like? To die." She asked bluntly.
"It was…." Maybe it was the alcohol talking, as Dean felt his lips open immediately to answer Kat; but he didn't do anything to stop it. "Well, getting ripped to shreds isn't over quick…but the feeling that I'd never be whole again was what hurt the worst. Maybe that's what actually got the job done." He said lowly, voicing the thought he'd mused on, for the first time.
"But you did become whole again?" Kat asked, her voice just as low as Dean's. Neither of them moved an inch. Dean had turned away and was staring at the curtained windows as Kat never stopped scrutinizing his face.
"Not completely" he admitted. Nothing had prepared him for that first time. He thought about all the things he'd seen and done in the time since and it brought him to the realization how much a child he had still been then.
"I believe in you." Kat broke the silence.
"What?" he asked.
"I believe that you'll get it back. Your…'whole-ness'." The effects of the alcohol had Kat grasping for the right word. When she found none she landed on 'whole-ness'. Dean looked back at her and raised an eyebrow, smiling bemusedly. Her cheeks reddened and they shared a moment, laughing at Kat's drunkenness.
Rowena thrust the large doors of her audience chamber shut with a swish of her hand. She was furious, that the girl Kat escaped capture. She did not like to be vulnerable. With the girl roaming around she could fall prey to Crowley and then he would have the key to toppling her whole operation. The plan she had weaved was thin, any snag could unravel it. In truth it had been born of anger and desperation and now Rowena scrambled to keep it together. It was risky, involving such powerful deities but the faith she had in her magical abilities was fueled by her desire for Crowley's downfall. She had to be decisive now, bring the fight in the open, hidden from those who did not know, but obvious to those who did. In doing so she would draw them out; the Winchesters in their inexorable desire to save people. She approached her desk and lightly brushed a manuscript of John Donne's Holy Sonnets to the floor. She bent to retrieve them and was caught by the last line on the page that lay open.
"And death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die." She recited. She stood with a renewed purpose in her mission.