The next morning the Impala was roaring down a densely populated highway. It had been 10 hours with only two pit stops and Kat was climbing the walls. She had buried herself in writing, making scribbles in a composition notebook. It hadn't surprised Sam and Dean how easily she took to her pet project; how well, Kat did compiling information was just a testament to her intelligence.
How easily she discovered new things about the supernatural was a different story. With each word she seemed to uncover an ocean of information about the truth behind the magic of the legends, they were hunting. The first few chapters were essentially biography augmented with an opinion. Kat's real emotion about the events littered the pages and reading it was like reading a page of her brain. One that she didn't openly talk about.
In this moment, she was more than halfway done and was finishing an extensive chapter on warding. Silently she celebrated finally translating an ancient sigil. It had taken her a few days to dig up enough information to substantiate her theory that, if passed through, it would expel the evil energy or the force that supplemented it, from whoever was practicing it. Useful, she mused to herself.
Even after all of that, she couldn't find the willpower to entertain herself for the remaining five hours of their trip.
"Are—" Kat began.
"If you say 'are we there yet' I will lose it so help me god," threatened Dean.
"I don't do well on road trips," Kat said by way of explanation.
Dean looked around seeming to be searching for something to occupy her. His eyes rested on Sam's sleeping form slumped on the window. A devious grin appeared on his face and before Kat could open her mouth to protest, Dean swerved the wheel hard to the empty lane to the left and screamed at the top of his lungs.
Sam's eyes flew open and he jumped so high he hit his head on the roof of the car. Simultaneously he reached for the glove compartment, where he'd stored his gun. He got it open then realized that Dean was cackling with laughter and Kat—though she tried to restrain herself—was following suit.
"That is NOT funny, Dean," Sam said angrily settling himself down in the seat.
"Oh, it's ok Sammy, you just rest your little head," coddled Dean.
"No, I don't trust you anymore. Kat should drive," Sam retorted begrudgingly.
Dean looked affronted and tightened his hands on the wheel, falling silent.
To save him from having to deny her the driver's seat Kat said, "You don't want me driving. I didn't learn until my first semester of college."
"Seriously?" asked Sam turning to face her.
"Yeah, dude, I'm from Brooklyn there wasn't any need. I went away for school at Chapel Hill. So that's when one of my friends taught me. That's why my license is from North Carolina." She explained.
"Hmm. Learn something new every day with you," Dean mused.
"Since we're sharing, my favorite TV show is Battlestar Galactica," Kat shrugged.
"Oh, come on, Battlestar?! You couldn't have at least gone for Deep Space Nine or something?" Dean whined.
"I will not defend myself to you, Winchester," said Kat resolutely crossing her arms.
Kat had closed her eyes and awoke in darkness. What light there was disillusioned like it was flowing through a crystal, sending blurry fragments around the room. Suddenly, she felt something rigid clasped in her hands. After a moment, she felt compelled to look at them.
The spear shone brightly of its own accord, surrounded by a pale blue fog. She wondered how she came to be holding it and where exactly she was. The fact that she was dreaming was obvious. What Kat questioned was if it was and original or recurring. Sometimes she dreamed of things that had happened in her life while she was awake. Like, a trip to the grocery store except little things had changed, to show her that she was in fact dreaming. Like, the clerk was transformed into a Pablo Picasso-looking cartoon.
What confused her about this particular one, was that there was no absurdity. The spear, maybe, but she had adopted that as something of a normality.
Kat looked up and a man had appeared in the few seconds she had been looking down. She hadn't heard anyone approach. Maybe she had been looking down for far longer than she thought. Her head began to feel woozy and she squinted at him in confusion.
Maybe it was his wildly curly hair or his green eyes but there was something incredibly recognizable about the man. She felt as if she knew him as well as she could know anybody. 'The human mind is unable to create original faces' she thought, 'maybe I saw him on the street somewhere? Or, had a class with him in her undergrad?' A second hung between her thoughts and when he spoke.
"You have to do it for me," he said in a strong, deep voice. It did not seem to belong to any human body because it felt like it had been broken down into sound waves that vibrated around the empty room they were standing at the center of.
"Do what?" Kat asked as she took a step towards him. He backed away just as quickly, never taking his eyes off of her.
"You'll know when it's time," He reassured, not answering her question.
Kat instantly knew to give up her current line of questioning. "Who are you?" she asked instead.
"Someone you will never know," he said wistfully. There was a hint of a kind smile on his face as he disintegrated into nothing in front of Kat's eyes.
Just as he was truly gone she felt a ripping pain flow like a current her chest. She looked down in panic and saw the spear was no longer in her hands but protruding directly between her breasts. Burgundy blood wept from the hole in her chest making the front of her body slick.
She opened her mouth to scream when she felt two disembodied hands shaking her shoulders gently.
Dean was standing next to the open back right door of the Impala. His touch brought her back to the land of the living and she jumped at the difference in the scenery.
"Woah, you good? Bad trip?" he asked warily.
"You have no idea. Just had the freakiest dream. Some dude was like 'this task was appointed to you Frodo Baggins' and disappeared," she joked, running her hands through her hair to wake herself up.
"Do I need to beat him up?" huffed Dean as he bent down to offer a hand and pull her out of the car.
Kat took it and looked around. They were in a roadside motel parking lot. It was sticky, and arid all at once. Kat allowed Dean to pull her into his chest and wrap his arms around her waist, clasping them in the back. He kissed her on the forehead soft and quick, as per usual.
"So I guess we're here?" Kat asked casually, still in his arms.
"Yup. Now the real fun begins." Dean sighed
"So we're just going to walk in?" asked Kat quizzically.
"Yes, you're going to be a very clumsy, very giggly, girl. Sam and I will get it while you distract Jabba the Hutt," said Dean impatiently.
Kat looked in Dean's sightline and frowned in pity. Through the glass she saw a very large man, reading a collection of Flash comics.
"That's not nice," Kat responded that way without knowing that Dean knew exactly why; that over their time together he'd seen that she was unfailingly kind, even though she pretended not to be. He was avaricious of the empathy that she could call up at any moment.
"Ok, fine, I'm sure he's a wonderful person. He doesn't deserve to get wrapped up in this, which is why you're going to have to distract him," Sam said hurriedly. He opened his door to the Impala and got out, straightening his light shirt.
Pushing her nervous thoughts aside she followed suit, making a beeline for the front door. It swung open, ringing a bell and immediately pretended to trip over own feet, in the process toppling a whole rack of books.
After about twenty minutes of Kat apologizing profusely, tripping again, this time falling strategically into the timid man's arms, she watched Sam and Dean exit the store. Dean held the arm opposite to her very straight and close to his side like he'd shoved half the spear up his sleeve.
"I'm so, so sorry, again sir." Kat gushed as she backed way and spun around into the swinging door.
She rounded the corner and jogged to the Impala. Sam was looking down, examining the spear. It was about as tall as Kat, the shaft was covered in ornate carvings that looked like sigils. As she got closer Kat thought she could make out some of the lettering used in ancient Gaelic.
Dean saw her approach and started a slow, sarcastic, applause. Kat grinned broadly. It was amazing to her how safe and happy she felt just looking at Dean. Her chest was filled with warmth and a blush crept up her cheeks.
Once she was 5 feet from the boys she threw out her arms to their full length and bowed grandiosely.
"Thank you, thank you," Kat crooned jokingly.
Dean raised his pitch an octave and spoke wispily, imitating her. "Oh, thank goodness you were there to catch me!"
"Is that jealousy I detect Winchester?" Kat retorted as she hiked up her shorts, with a small hop as she hoisted. Dean smiled at the way she was able to make an ungracious mannerism, charming.
"Not a chance," he replied just as quickly.
A sleek black car pulled into the empty lot of the shopping center and Kat looked over her shoulder to watch it enter. It was coming fast and before she knew it, it had pulled into a spot three down from the Impala.
Dean subconsciously and protectively stepped in halfway in front of Kat, shielding her, but not enough so she couldn't see.
An old woman stepped out from the driver's side. Curiously Kat cocked her head to the side. Sam reached for the gun tucked in the back of his jeans instinctively.
Kat gasped, and suddenly she knew why she had studied the woman so closely.
"That hag was in Kansas yesterday...at the library. It's no coincidence she's here," she said quickly as two more doors opened revealing three more bodies. They were younger, agiler males and they all stared at the trio.
"Demons?" Sam asked. The creature's eyes flashed black and they began to run.
"Demons," confirmed Dean who, like a warrior, thrust Kat completely behind him and brandished Ruby's knife.
The three males occupied Sam and Dean. All Kat could see was the flash of bodies being tossed around in her periphery. The old woman headed directly for her, pure malice in her gaze.
Dean threw one of them to the ground. It attempted to stand relying on one leg to force it upward. Dean kicked it out. The sickening crunch of bone and a fierce howl of pain followed it.
The woman stood before Kat, building up tension and waiting to strike. Kat knew she couldn't rely on Sam or Dean and that her fighting skills were minimal. She searched frantically and saw the spear discarded on the gravel in the confusion.
In the tumult of chaos around her and using the kicked up dust as cover she baseball slid across it, feeling the sharp sting of skin peeling off her kneecaps. She grabbed the spear just in time to spin and face the demon who was mere inches from her. She shoved the end of Lugh's spear into the gravel, so that it pointed upwards like palisade guarding Kat.
The demon didn't have the time to stop. She flailed her arms in the vain attempt to sway her course. Her balled fist made contact with Kat's forehead before she impaled herself on the lance. It was taking all of Kat's strength to hold it erect as the demon's orifices flickered orange to yellow and back again. Finally, she slumped and drooped all of her weight onto the spear forcing Kat down with it.
Kat looked up and was met with a trickle of blood from her forehead in her right eye. With her left she saw Sam overthrow one demon. Dean held his opponent down with his forearm. Without even looking he tossed Sam the demon blade and Sam caught it deftly. He thrust it upward, from navel to throat. Removing it, he threw it back to Dean who rammed it into his demon's exposed chest.
Kat marveled momentarily at how well the two men worked together. Their movement was timed like the ticking of a clock, wordlessly functioning on a beat in harmony. Her admiration was interrupted by a sharp pain in her chest. It grew steadily and she squirmed trying to let go of the spear to grab at it, at a loss of anything else to do.
Her hand wouldn't budge but seemed glued to the shaft by a faint aura of blue, not unlike the one from her dream.
"Ow, ow, ow," she cried helplessly. She stumbled to her feet then, removing the blade from the demon's chest. The grotesque image would have repulsed her, were it not for the pounding in her veins of some force flowing from her wrist to her heart.
Dean was immediately at her side, attempting to guide her to lean against the Impala. Kat resisted, making it there herself.
"Let it go, drop it," Dean seemed to say. Kat saw double and her vision became blurry as the pain climaxed. She focused all of her energy towards her hand, willing it to open. Finally, it did, and relief flooded through Kat like water breaking through a crumbling dam.
She caught her breath for a few seconds, bending slightly and resting her hands on her knees, backside against the rim of the car.
"What the hell was that?" Sam sighed incredulously.
"I have no freakin' idea. But we've gotta get out of here." Replied Kat dryly looking at the mess of corpses that lay out in front of them. "I probably shouldn't touch that thing again," she said as she pointed with repugnance at the spear which sat inanimately taunting her.
"Get in the car. I'll get it," Dean said his voice full of distrust. Before she left his side, he grabbed her chin and lovingly wiped the blood from the cut at her hairline the demon's fist had made.
The three of them discussed the day's events in spurts. They would voice a theory, then fall silent and think on it. The one fact they did agree on was that sleep and alcohol were a necessity, not entirely in that order.
They took an alternate route home, afraid of being followed. Once they reached Colorado, they pulled into the first motel they saw. It sat, serendipitously enough, next to a ramshackle bar.
It was a shining beacon of comfort in an otherwise dark day, it drew them in. Kat offered to set up the wardings and test out the new theories she explored.
After she had decked out the room in squiggles and slashes they dragged their feet to the bar.
It was dank, dark, and stereotypical. The boys split and went to their usual spots, leaving Kat feeling like somewhat of an outsider.
Dean bought the first round and Sam snagged a pool table.
"You play?" he asked, flipping the cue around his wrist.
"I am actually terrible at pool," she admitted.
"So that means you're playing with me," stated Dean as he approached with a tray of shots. "Jameson, just for you," he winked at Kat.
"What are the stakes?" she said dangerously as she downed one shot, and then another.
Dean eyed her impressed and doubled her intake.
Sam spotted the barback assembling a microphone and looked at the chalkboard to its left. It read: Karaoke Night. "Loser sings," he stated.
"Wha—" started Dean but then his eyes landed on the same sight. "You're on," he bet confidently.
They had lost and Dean was backed into a corner. Kat had agreed to sing too because it was really her fault they had lost at all.
Dean was too proud to decline the wager and made his way to the corner with the microphone. He made his selection and the first notes rang out, tinny, from the speaker.
"When the lights, go down, on the city…" he bellowed from across the room.
Kat was rightfully drunk. Drunker than she'd been in a long time. "Journey! Good stuff!" she teased from her seat. Dean held out his beer to her, mimicking a toast, but never stopped grumbling along with the song, allowing his cockiness to mask how truly embarrassed he was.
"Sam, you need to score with that bartender. She's been giving you rounds for free. She totally checks out your ass as you walk away. She's totally objectifying you, how do you feel about that?" Kat teased sarcastically, slightly swaying in her seat.
Sam looked at her disbelieving, but his own drunkenness got the better of him and he shrugged. Grinning he peeked over his shoulder. The bartender saw and waved coyly.
"Go get 'em, tiger," Kat pressed.
He had stood but as Kat spoke he turned back abruptly, "I'm not Spiderman."
"I am sorry to say, Sam, you would absolutely be Peter Parker," Kat said apologetically. She scooted him along with her hands.
As he left, Dean returned. Kat didn't say a word to him as she lopsidedly walked to where the microphone sat.
"You might have heard I run with a dangerous crowd…" Kat sang, clear and passionate. Dean clapped his hands once and laughed at her choice of Only The Good Die Young. "Classic karaoke choice. I like the way you think Tavares!"
Kat took this as a prompt to act as ridiculously as possible. She pursed her lips and swung the microphone cord around like a rocker and puckered her lips at him.
By the time she had gotten to the second chorus, her eye was caught by Sam leaning his entire chest over the bar and kissing the bartender who simultaneously grasped behind her for the last call bell. Kat dropped the mic and gasped. Abandoning her song, she sprinted to Dean who saw her line of sight and his jaw dropped open.
In seconds, she had grasped his hand and pulled him out of the bar into the cooler Colorado night.
The stars shone brightly over them because of the lack of light around them. The last few stragglers stumbled through the bar doors and made their way down the dark road. Kat still held Dean's hand and she tightened her grip, pulling him closer.
Their lips met boldly. Uninhibited Kat reached for Dean's chest, forcing him backward until they had reached their hotel door.
Once there, Dean spun around, placing Kat against the door, a lamb for slaughter.
The door opened somehow, but neither of them was concerned with anything but each other.
The darkness of the room swallowed them whole.