Dean awoke groggily. He was hot. Boiling hot; like his core was a volcano about to erupt.
Still drunk? He thought to himself. His mind seemed to clear, though. He took in his surroundings too sharply to be intoxicated. The ramifications of that realization made him feel inadequate. I'm actually hungover… he mused.
He swung his legs over the side of the bed and Kat stirred. He carefully brushed her boisterous curls back from her face. She inhaled at his touch and exhaled when he removed his hand. He sat there contentedly for a moment. The feeling of safety was unusual to Dean. He felt safe to an extent, in the bunker because it was a fortress but never had he felt safe in the arms of another person. No matter how small and untrained she was, Kat managed to be an anchor to him; tethering him to humanity.
He was reminded of their first encounter. In a moment when he thought he'd never see her again and, vice versa, and he couldn't help but feel like he would. Later, when she had burned down all her worldly possessions and counted on him, she'd told him he would find his 'wholeness'. In his evasive way, he believed he had, with her.
Avoiding anyone else realizing that fact was paramount. In a way he thought Kat felt the same. He could love her fully behind warded walls but in the light of day he—and Kat too, really—remained aloof.
This mental drudgery called for hydration. As much as Dean wished in this moment it was more alcohol, he left the room and went to the vending machine for frigid water. He reached for the knob but not before his eyes fell on the composition notebook Kat had been hard at work on detailing everything she could about the hunt for Rowena and all that she encountered there. He flipped open the first page. In Kat's light but nearly perfect cursive read an epigraph. 'In memoriam of the person, I used to be.' The sentence stopped him in his tracks because it dawned on him that Kat was learning something about herself through this experience.
He shut it and went back to turning the knob.
Outside, he was trying to shove a limp single into the slot when he felt a tap on his shoulder.
Panic flooded through him because he realized, he'd stupidly left the protection of the room without a weapon. Dean spun, ready to use the machine itself as a weapon if necessary.
Crowley greeted him as he circled around. "You were so smooth yesterday afternoon, squirrel…This morning? Not so much," he criticized.
"What do you want huh? Why'd you send demons after us?" Dean said angrily.
"A misunderstanding. They were sent to retrieve something for me," he clarified as he gestured his hand out cordially. "I'd like custody of Kat," Crowley demanded. Contempt leaked into his voice as he said her name.
Dean adopted his slick, cocky demeanor and leaned against the machine running a hand through his hair. "Crowley, we have danced this dance a hundred times. One of us wants something the other will never give up. You're gonna lose," Dean seethed.
"You can't keep anything from me Dean Winchester and don't forget that. You may be excellently warded but you know I could do it better. Please, that's how I found you at all tonight. I can protect our mutual interest from Rowena."
"So can I," Dean asserted in an almost growl.
"Rowena is dabbling in magic I won't even dare to touch. Old, and especially dark. Magic like that has to be sustained…fed. That type of hunger has roots that even I don't have the energy to nourish. Even the darkness won't last much longer. My sources tell me her stores are depleting as we speak. She'll need Katherine more than ever to keep her army. Just keep that in mind," Crowley warned. As he did so, however, he shifted backward the slightest bit timid.
An idea struck Dean and he raised an eyebrow bemusedly. "Are you actually threatened by her?"
"By Rowena? Please. My life isn't in danger, it's my world that is. It's my sodding plaything and she wants to swallow it all back up into the Other," he exclaimed.
Dean backtracked, thrown off by what Crowley had revealed to him. "Wait so you're trying to tell me there are more realms than just Heaven, Hell, and Purgatory?" Dean advanced a step but never moved from in front of the motel room door.
"It's frightening to me that with all you've seen you still prescribe to the inane belief system that is Christianity. All I am saying is, Rowena plans to use Katherine to perform a spell. One that will unleash all of the long dead monsters from Celtic myth. I don't fancy an army of creatures that have been scratching at a door for centuries roaming the earth."
"But isn't there already an army here? Balor and the Fomorians?" Dean pressed, eager for Crowley to reveal too much.
"Dean, Dean, Dean. It's high time to start being one step ahead instead of two steps behind. Yes, the Fomorians are here and Balor is technically in control of them, but Rowena has him captive and is looking for a way to cut him out. Katherine is the key to that. They are also not the only things out there. There are more, and they will come," Crowley pointed a short finger at Dean and windowed his body on an angle. About to turn away he added, "Think about my offer. Oh, and eh, this motel smells like herpes and regret, I'd suggest you move on," and then he vanished.
Dean stood staring at nothing for a second before gingerly opening the door back up and shutting it rapidly.
The sound of the television startled him as he reentered, as it had not been there when he left. He turned to see Kat, covered with the sheets, propped up on one elbow. Her lips were pursed—as they always were when she was tired—but she didn't know it. Her black lashes fluttered like a paper thin ember escaping a flame as she became more and more awake.
"Hey," she exhaled and she rolled towards him onto her stomach. "You missed it. I turned on the TV and Casa Erotica 3 was on. A good one I know, but I thought it was kind of silly to keep it on when you have the real thing. Then, I found Dr. No. and it was game over," she said, satisfied.
Dean crossed the room and lifted his leg to crawl onto the bed towards her on his hands and knees. He stopped right above her bare back and kissed her shoulder blade saying, "That's the best Bond movie, in my opinion."
Kat flipped over to face him. "It definitely is. Or maybe it's because I have a massive girl-crush on Ursula Andress."
"Well, she is the best Bond girl…that bikini." Dean made a sharp intake of breath like he'd drunk something hot, and then smiled.
She stared at him hungrily for a minute without saying anything. He was reminded of what she'd written as he looked into the eyes that, until minutes before, he believed were unwavering in their sense of self.
"Can I ask you something?"
"Sure," he shrugged
"What would've happened if we met like any other two people do? Not because of witches or monsters but on the street or at a bar," she stopped. Dean didn't respond because he knew that this wasn't the end of her questioning. "Say I was just a professor—"
"Or a hot librarian," Dean interrupted.
She smirked. "Or that."
Dean lay down next to her, this time propping himself up on his elbow.
"I know you as a kid wanted to be a fireman. And that you have crazy talent working on cars. I think the appropriate adjective for it is enormous—" Kat's preamble was cut short by Dean.
"Are…are you calling me fat…?" Dean said pretending to be offended.
Kat laughed heartily, pushed him lightly and continued, "But what would you actually want to be? Like if you were given the choice?"
Dean was silent for a moment, thinking. He looked upwards as if the answer would be sitting on the ceiling. He exhaled. "I don't think it would matter what I did. So long as I knew what to do," he said decisively.
Kat accepted his answer by raising her eyebrows in understanding and thought for a second. "So you'd like to be the person that can make a decision?" she countered.
"I guess I'd like to be someone who's confident of the choices they make," Dean sighed deeply, letting himself fall off of his elbow and onto his back. "You're a bad influence on me. I don't think I've ever been wrapped up in my own head this much, ever."
Kat shifted closer to him to nestle her chin in the crook of his arm and her cheek on his bare chest. Under the covers, she lifted her leg and placed it over his own. Their touching skin created a magnetic energy neither of them could understand. It was static, leaving every single hair on their bodies on edge. Something different hung in the air around them; like the prospect of a greater purpose.
Kat massaged her temples. She sat in the bunker with Sam and Dean. Their return car ride had consisted of berating Sam about his tryst until the late day hangover took hold. All tree of them were feeling its effects not just Kat, which broke tradition. Dean's eyes were slightly red and he moved slower than he usually did. Sam seemed like his eyes never really opened and his voice had become even deeper like his throat was full of mucus. Kat suspected he'd thrown up before they left and once in the bathroom of a gas station, they'd stopped in. She had too, so she wasn't judging him.
Castiel on the other hand, who had appeared at the request of Dean, was unimpaired and regarded the three of them with slight amusement. Especially Dean, who he had never seen quite this beaten.
They left the spear in the center of the table and Cas had taken an hour to gather reconnaissance from whoever would talk. Truth be told there wasn't much he'd gotten other than it was more than just a spear. Residual energy flowed through it, but Kat could've told them that.
Now they contemplated what to do about it. And that was proving to be a difficult endeavor.
"It started in my chest and it felt like burning but like it was sucking the energy out of the rest of my body to keep it going."
"That's what Crowley said. That the power had to be sustained maybe that's what it was trying to do" suggested Dean
"I think that's exactly what it was trying to do. The question is must Katherine learn to harness it?" broached Cas
"No way," said Dean immediately becoming protective.
"It's something to think about," Kat approached shooting Dean a thankful and understanding glance. "There are some corresponding symbols on the caldron. If I can translate the full inscription on the spear, I'll be able to see the connection. Maybe that will get us somewhere," she suggested.
"I have an angel friend who specializes in the cataloging and understanding of ancient cultures. When asked he said that the caldron is ingredients for the spell that gave Balor his power." Cas supplied.
"So maybe because the caldron belonged to Balor's father and the spear to his grandson, maybe they're like family heirlooms and that's why they have the same symbol," suggested Sam.
"Very possible. I can call upon the angel maybe he can assist you tonight," offered Cas, his brow crease growing deeper.
"I'll help too," Sam said, stepping up.
Kat and Dean shared a humorous look. Kat looked back to both Sam and Cas and said, "Ok Legolas and Gimli. Let's go to Mordor."
"Sam's definitely the dwarf," snickered Dean.
"Dude, I'm like twelve feet taller than Cas!" Sam protested.
"Yeah but Cas can't get drunk and doesn't understand social cues so, he's the elf," countered Kat.
"I actually understood that reference to the Lord of the Rings."
The three of them stared at Castiel for a moment and shared a lackluster laugh, being that they were too hungover to give it their full energy. Kat felt her stomach lurch and suddenly felt very confined by her jeans. She stood and excused herself to change.
As she rounded the corner to the hall of dormitory style rooms she faintly heard her name. Out of pure nosiness, she pressed her back to the cold tile walls and craned her head towards the great room, straining to hear.
"What we have to put her in harm's way to save her?" she heard Sam say with worry in his voice.
"I do not want to see Katharine hurt. The both of you have sacrificed people in the past, I do not want to see that happen here," said Cas his tone almost scolding.
"Nobody does," Dean intoned despondently.
His voice seemed removed from the rest. Kat could picture his expression, withdrawn and staring at nothing as he flexed his hand helplessly. She was slightly hurt by his lack of concern but she knew ultimately that it was the cogs of his mind churning. Trying, as he always did, to find another way.
She heard Cas flutter away and took this as her cue to continue down the hall.
In another lifetime, Kat would have thought Barachiel's terse personality and stiff movements were a hilarious combination. She had, for the first twenty minutes of their meeting, watched the angel wearing the body of an incredibly small, deft, ancient looking Japanese man eagerly. He was bald, with a clean, white beard and his wrinkles were so intense that the skin of his eyelids started to fold over his eyes.
Kat's amusement with his little grunts of ascent and the way he almost caressed the artifacts dissipated when she realized he was extremely convoluted.
Sam patiently spoke with the angel as Kat recorded everything pertinent they said, piping up when it was necessary.
"So the writing on the caldron is Old Irish," Sam clarified.
"Goídelc," said Barachiel simply.
"Yes. And the corresponding characters are Oghams, the pre-Gaelic tree alphabet. The name written on both of them is Dé Danaan, which is believed to be the cycle of myth Balor and Lugh come from."
"What is not important is their name. It is what they are made from," Barachiel said peacefully.
Kat glanced at Sam whose resolve seemed to be slipping. "So these words here," Sam pointed with his pen to the roundest point of the basin's belly, "they're the incantation and underneath are the ingredients?"
"That is where the information lies. In the belly of the beast," Barachiel responded, very content and looking at Sam happily, like a baby who was sitting in a soiled diaper but completely unaware of it.
"No, we already know the Rowan and Alder stand for the first man and woman. The combination of their blood is an ingredient too. Barachiel, you told us that Vervain, Mistletoe, and Hazel; mixed with the blood and the proper moon is going to exacerbate its power."
"You are correct." The angel turned his piercing eyes to Kat who felt inexplicably nervous under their gaze.
"What I don't understand is why Hazel is written apart from the others. It's like an inch below it."
"You are asking the right questions," congratulated Barachiel.
"Thank you," said Kat trying not to grit her teeth, "but what does it mean?"
"It is hard to say what is at the core of anything; just that it means something," shrugged the angel.
Kat stared at him for a moment. His eyes so complacent but also full of fervor, willing her to uncover the secrets without his help. There was pure silence. The hunter, the angel, and the librarian sat perfectly still and Kat closed her eyes for a split second.
In that moment, all of the information swimming in her head aligned, like the stars.
"What if Hazel isn't the actual plant. What if it's talking about the phase of the moon? Just like Rowan and Alder. It's listed separately from both because it doesn't require the blood of someone born in that sign or the physical plant."
"Between two planes," said Barachiel as if it were perfectly clear.
"Hazel is also one of the trees in the zodiac right. What if the spell just has to be performed in that time?" Sam suggested.
Kat shuffled through papers covered in her swirly script. "Hazel falls over August 5th to September 1st."
"That is when your witch will strike," Barachiel affirmed.
Kat exhaled in relief. They had time. Her coup to destroy the planet wasn't for months. When she would move against Balor, was another story.
She looked at her empty cup of coffee and was instantly made aware of her thirst. She stood and asked if her two research assistants wanted anything and made her way into the kitchen. She caught Sam's pleading glance as she left and smiled to herself.
When she entered the kitchen she saw Dean leaning back in a chair eyes closed and head back, a beer clutched in his hand. Cas was sitting straight in his seat and silenced when he saw Kat enter.
"How in the world are you drinking again?" she directed at Dean.
"Hair of the dog, my friend," he responded simply. Sitting up, he said, "How's it going in there?"
"Oh, you mean with Splinter, sensei of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles? Fantastic, He knows exactly what he's talking about….if only I could understand what he was saying," despaired Kat, sighing and placing her hand on her forehead.
"I should probably return him to Heaven. The angels that are against involvement in this war will realize he has gone and be angry," said Cas pushing back his chair and standing to relieve Sam.
"Tell him I said thank you," Kat called after him earnestly.
"Come on this is great, Sam finally gets to talk to his hero, Confucius, and you're getting real work done on the spear. Win, win." Dean comforted, intensely sarcastic.
Kat deadpanned. "Save me," she said.
Dean's smile remained but the animation fell from his eyes. He looked at her for a moment, the smile in his eyes concaved into pity and desperation. He shrugged like he was trying to rid what he was thinking from manifesting in his shoulders. He lifted the beer to his lips but before he took his sip he grumbled with a husk of a laugh, "I'm tryin'."
Kat shuffled towards him dramatically, letting her body seem like it was losing the fight against gravity. With each step, she acted as if she was getting pulled closer and closer to the ground until she knelt before Dean. She collapsed on his lap putting her arms through the arms of the chair. Placing her chin on his stomach, she looked up at him like a puppy. He smiled again but it still didn't reach his eyes.
"Saaaaaaave me," she cried pretending to sniffle and pouting. She used a blithe indifference to lace her words. In a way, she was voicing her fears and hoped that Dean would answer. She knew he felt threatened by the fact that they might lose this fight, but a part of Kat needed to be reassured by him.
Dean sat up laboriously. He looked into her golden brown eyes and pressed his lips to her forehead hard. Then he pulled back and placed one more kiss there quickly. "I," he said as he went back in for another peck. "Am," he said curtly after another. "Trying," he finished with a final kiss. He stood and left Kat sitting on the floor of the kitchen.
A/N: Hope you all enjoy this one. A bit of action and a bit of fun. My song-spiration for this one is This Will End by the Oh Hellos. Not a very Winchester song, but one of my favorites all the same. - Kelly