Everything slowed down as panic started to creep in. First, I couldn't help but imagine all kinds of creepy crawlies running up my leg. This house was OLD, and new residents in the form of rats, insects, and the like were surely unhappy about this intrusion.
Second, I was trapped near the bottom of the stairs with no weapon and two angry ghosts.

I felt indignation rising in my chest. If not for Dean, my leg would be free and I would have full freedom to move as I wished. What kind of idiot throws something over a damn stairwell? It didn't matter that I failed to catch it— I was notoriously bad
at catching things. That's not my fault. I could have dodged an attack with a free foot! Not to mention, the boy's' presence was what alerted the spirits to me in the first place! I was perfectly fine on my own. That's the whole reason why I hadn't
called a partner. I sighed heavily, forcing all of my air out. If I didn't find a way to fix this, I'd be dead within minutes. I scanned the dusty air surrounding me, wondering if maybe my crowbar had miraculously landed nearby.

The hair stood up on the back of my neck and I started furiously grabbing anything that could prove to be a weapon. I was just wondering if the nail sticking out of a certain free board had iron in it when one of the ghosts reappeared. *Time's up* I thought,
grabbing the board. I waited half a second for it to enter my reach, and swung as hard as I could.

My momentum carried me to the railing, and I yanked my body up while pushing with my free leg. A crack sounded from the stair below me, and my foot was free. Finally, I saw my discarded weapon and launched myself at it, landing on the ground, but with
it firmly in my hand. The small nail had a short effect on the spirit, and I swung my regained tool through its form.

"Let's get the fuck out of here!" I yelled in the general direction of the Winchesters. Without waiting for a response, I jumped back down the stairs, carefully avoiding what was now a hole where the last steps had tried to take my foot off.
I dashed out the door just in time to see Sam and Dean reach their car, a Chevyimpala from the sixties.

"Where the fuck were you?" I yelled at them. "Did you not notice me in the stairs?"

Sam looked confused. "I thought you said she got out already!" He pushed his brother lightly.

"I thought she did!" Dean shot back. "She disappeared in a cloud of dust, but I didn't know shewas the one who caused it!"

I shook my head and threw my car door open. "Fuck you, I'm out of here. Guess I'll see you at the motel, since it's the only one in town!" I started the engine without looking back. I was seriously afraid I would start throwing punches. I had
dashed out the door too, but at least I knew they were far enough away from the lack of response. Even if they were still fighting, they had each other! I was alone—with a ghost, thanks to them.

We arrived at the same time, but I was still too angry to talk to them, and my leg was starting to bleed through my pants. I felt their gaze as Iwalked straight inside my room and into the bathroom. Once inside, I stripped my pants off to reveal
a thickred line. I huffed and started running water, doing my best to clean out the wound. I grabbed a washcloth and scrubbed it with soap before placing it carefully, dabbing it in. It stung, and I was greatful to wash it out with warm water
again after. I dried my leg and fished out a bandage from my bag, which I then wrapped around my thigh.

I looked in the mirror. I looked like I had just been initiated into a gang. You know, after everyone kicks the shit out of you to see if you're toughenough to join. In addition to the cuts on my face—which I cleanedin the same fashion as
my leg,opting for butterfly bandages this time—I had red marks on my neck where the ghosts had choked me. Luckily, there seemed to be no lasting or serious damage. I sighed and sat on the edge of the tub, ignoring the sharpcold on my basically
bare ass. My panties always had a way of migrating so they felt like a thong. Iadjusted them slightly.

In my haste, I had forgotten to lock the door. I realized this when someone stormed in, slamming it behind them.

"Cat?! Where are you?" I recognized that deepvoice.

"What?!" I yelled, storming out of the bathroom. "What the hell is it?" My rage was confidently returning. "Are you here to apologize for almost leaving me inside that house to die?"

Dean exclaimed indignantly, letting out a single laugh without humor. "Are you kidding? We had just gotten out of that hellhole! I didn't know you were still inside!"

"Well apparently you told Sam just that! You told him you were knew I was out! And how could that not be a lie, since you never saw or heard the damn door!" I countered. Dean opened his mouth, but I cut him off and continued. "In
fact, I recall saying 'damn it'! You know, like in a way that means something is wrong!"

"We had another ghost on us, and I threw you a weapon!"

"I never caught that! Maybe if you stopped for just one second-"

"It's not my goddamnfault you can't fucking catch!" Dean was breathing hard now. He angrily took of his jacket and threw it on the corner of the bed.

"That doesn't mean you're blameless! 'Oh, look at me'" I mocked, "'I'm Dean Winchester, I threw a poor damsel a weapon, and now I'm a hero and absolved of all further responsibilities!'" I was out of breath.

Dean stepped closer. I watched his chest rise and fall sharply. "Maybe you should have left this to us! I tried to save your ass," he spat darkly.

My eyes grew wide. I would have hithim if he was any closer. I laughed cruelly. "I'm sorry, who saved whose ass tonight? Like actually saved it? Because I know that before you showed up, I was completely fine! I ran in to help you!
I could have just ignored your little tousle and carried on looking for what we needed!" I slowly advanced on him while making my point. We were close now; I could almost feel the heat coming off his body. "Which we didn't even find, by
the way!" I added.

"Like that's my fault?" He stepped closer, getting in my face, and I backed up toward the wall. He followed, not giving up an inch of the advantage. He was much taller than me, and towered over my petite frame. "You can't blame me
for everything, Cat!"

My back hit the wall. "I'm not just blaming you for no reason! Youput me in danger! Youwere the one who fucked me up so I got stuck in a damn stair!" I tried to ignore the part of me that was enjoying this fight, the
part that was currently admiring Dean's muscular arms. I wrenched my gaze back up,"Thanks for helping to pullme out of that, by the way!" I spoke, voice dripping with sarcasm.

He slammed his open palm onto the wall behind me, right above my shoulder. His eyes were no longer on my face. I suddenly became very aware of the fact that my pants were across the room. He growled. "I tried to help! Maybe your ungrateful ass just
can't understand that!"

Much to my annoyance, my mind suddenly couldn't think of anything else to say back. No comebacks. And yet I still opened my mouth to came out was something of a surprise. "Maybe I need to be taught gratitude," my heart skipped
a beat when it occurred to me what I had said.