The Dreaded A/N: I … have a problem. I received a request for some Adam whumpage in the Third Winchester AU. Consequently, a plot formed in my head that I could not ignore. As a result, the remainder of Snippets will still be chapter based, but with one plot arc. I'll weave in the conversations, which was the original purpose of Snippets, but I like where this story is going. So. Hope you like it, because I need to write this.

Kate...

The back door banged shut, followed by a cheerful, "I'm home!"

My hand automatically rested on his scar (that's what I called it, now), as the tension from the last few days eased out of me. Logically, I knew Adam was fine, that he'd been on a well-deserved trip with friends. Unlogically, if that's even a word, his absence meant he was gone gone - in the Cage or dead or a ghoul and nonononono.

Dad squeezed my shoulder, sensing my unease, while rising to greet his son. Adam stepped into the living room, and with one glance, I knew everything was fine. His cheeks were a healthy pink, his face lit up with his boyish grin, and he looked very much not dead.

His eyes scanned the room as he waved and smiled. When they landed on me, his smile got wider.

Helloooooo, baby brother.

I smiled back, pushing myself to my feet only to immediately get crushed in a massive hug. "Hey there, kiddo," I grunted, trying to catch my breath while being smushed.

Adam buried his face in my neck. "Hey...how're you doing?"

Rolling my eyes, I pushed him off and straightened my hair with an exaggerated gesture. "I'm awesome, as usual." This gal knew how to lie. "How was your trip?"

He snorted, dropping his bag into a corner and popping his back.

Ewwww…

"Good! It was cool to see the guys, and just, you know, hang out for a while."

Dad clapped him on the shoulder. "Hungry?"

"Starving!"

"C'mon...I think there are leftovers. How'd the car run?"

They strolled into the kitchen, chatting about smoothness of ride or something, leaving me alone as my brain played catch-up, resyncing in the here and now.

Uneven footsteps on the stairs announced Dean's arrival, ending with a thump at the bottom. "Adam's home?" He asked, eyes flickering towards the kitchen before returning to assess me.

Everyone was always assessing me. Him, especially. Granted, I wasn't a hundred percent. Maybe more like...sixty. Or...fifty-five.

Ish.

Still.

I was okay, given the circumstances, and getting better every day, even though it was slow.

And uncomfortable.

And...stuff.

Some days, I just wasn't sure where I was. Other days, I was fine. Every night, though, I was plagued with nightmares and memories that fucked with my head. I guessed that the Trials had me so messed up, that dwelling on Hell or Lucifer or the other jumps or even dying got overshadowed by exhaustion and pain. Which meant I had catching up to do.

Hooray…

Cue worried, freaked out, big brother, incapable of taking a Zen approach like the other worried, freaked out, big brother. Sam had me in daily therapy sessions, talking and sharing and reaffirming and whatever other crap his psych textbook suggested. And that was okay.

Mostly.

I just had trouble keeping this Dean straight from my other Dean.

Sometimes.

Hooray…

Dean reached out and poked my nose. "You okay in there?" Concern-filled eyes bored into me, and once again, I felt immense guilt for worrying him.

I flashed a smile, fake as tits on a Hollywood actress. "Absolutely. Let's go hear about this awesome trip."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Pretty sure it was awesome," he muttered, "but I'm supposed to get some work done on the Impala. I'll catch up with him later."

One last worried look, then Dean headed outside.

xxxxx

Late that night, I sat in my room trying not to think about Hell, while feeling stupid because it wasn't like my stint in Hell was as bad as my other brothers' time there. Still, I told myself defensively, I tangled with a pissed off Lucifer and Michael, while trying to rescue a batshit insane little brother. It wasn't like their experience, but it was still an experience in Hell, right?

Didn't that warrant at least a little unease?

Jesus, could I give myself a break, ever?

Adding to the plate, I'd been thinking about Adam all night, ever since his return. Something about him seemed...off. He wouldn't make eye contact, he seemed a little on edge, and just...off.

There was a knock at my door, jolting me from the ridiculous conversation I was having with myself. "Yeah?" I called.

"It's me." Speak of the devil.

"Come on in."

The door opened a crack, and Adam peered at me. "Hey...gotta minute?"

I smirked. "For you? Of course. What's up?"

He pushed his way inside, gently closing the door behind him. "I, uh...just wanted to see how you were doing." His eyes were trained on the floor, his foot shuffling a little. Yeah, definitely off.

"I'm good. Really." I can sell that lie in...three words. "What about you? Everything alright?"

Adam froze, like he'd been caught doing something naughty. "Uh...yeah." He coughed into his shoulder.

Ohhhh…

I raised an eyebrow. "Yeah?"

Then he sneezed.

"You dufus."

He glanced at me, shrugging. "I'm okay. Probably just picked up something. Mike was kinda sick, weather was wet and cold, so…" He shrugged again, a sheepish grin on his face.

"C'mere. Does your head hurt?" At least I could still mother.

Nice to know.

Well. It is Adam. The scar on my arm caught my eye as I reached out to feel his forehead. I definitely had a soft spot for him.

xxxxx

The next morning, there was a breakfast gathering, if you will. The conversation was all about the research taking place over Mary's family background. Intel on her (surprise!) hunting history was trickling in, making Dad one grumpy son of a bitch. I would've suggested he go shack up with Jody for a couple days, but the notion sounded so bitchy in my head (part of the new me, I supposed) that if I actually said it out loud, I was fairly confident it would sound even worse.

So, I kept my mouth shut, letting them ponder and mull. I didn't have a whole lot of information for them - just the notion that she hunted - so they kinda left me out of it.

That must be how I missed the segway into prophets.

"It'd be helpful to know what was coming - what Azazel is planning." Bobby - always practical. I continued hunting in the fridge for some creamer. I knew we had some left.

"I just wanna know how to kill the asshole." Dad - always with his eye on the prize. Maybe we ran out of creamer. Fuck - I could not drink my coffee black.

"Well, Kevin Tran was the last prophet Kate knew about. Maybe Castiel can tell us if there are others here, since Kevin doesn't exist? There has to be another smart Chinese prophet running around, right?" Adam - always...hold the fuck on.

I never told him Kevin's last name, let alone that he was Chinese.

I slowly straightened, forgetting about the creamer. I glanced at the microwave, where Bobby and Dad's reflections were clear as day. Adam stepped into the picture, his head turning slightly, and that's when I saw it.

A flash of white - the retinal flare, Bobby called it - just for a brief second.

I...snapped.

Seriously. I fucking snapped.

Whipping around, I grabbed "Adam" by the collar, and slammed him into the wall, whooshing the air out of his lungs.

"Kate! What the hell!" Dad yelled.

My focus lasered onto the shifter pretending to be my brother. My brother, who I spent three days forcefully reminding myself wasn't dead, wasn't in trouble, wasn't needing a rescue.

My brother, who obviously, did.

I pulled "Adam" off the wall, only to slam him back again. "Where is he?" I growled.

Knowing his ruse was up, "Adam" chuckled. That's when the room fell silent.

That laugh...that flippant laugh...earned him another slam into the wall, only this time, I made sure his head made contact. "Answer me!"

"Or what? Come on. I was a decent Winchester, right? What gave it away?"

"I never told you anything about Kevin."

He sighed, letting his head loll against his chest. "Well, shit. That blows." He raised his head, eyes full of mischief. "But up 'til then...I had you, right?" He let out this pathetic fake cough, followed by a mocking sad face.

I pressed him harder against the wall, one hand wrapped around his throat. "You were in my bed last night, you fucking asshole. Tell me where Adam is, or I'll - "

All pretense gone, the shifter narrowed its eyes at me. "Or you'll what? You kill me, and you'll never know where your precious brother is."

"Kate…" Bobby used that warning tone, like he knew something was gonna happen. I caught movement to my right, as Dad stepped closer, weapon drawn.

I blatantly ignored them, pulling the angel blade from my waistband and holding it up to the shifter's neck. He just laughed harder, which frankly, increased my anger to new levels.

Holding up his hands in mock surrender, the shifter's lips twisted. "Ooooh, the wimpy little Winchester is gonna...what? Do nothing, that's what. This kid knows you. You'll listen to your daddy, do whatever you're told, and - " He interrupted himself with an anguished scream, as I drove that blade through his arm, effectively pinning him to the wall. A trickle of blood dribbled down his sleeve, imitating Adam's scar.

The nice thing about angel blades, was that they're made of some powerful shit. You didn't have to worry about carrying something in silver, iron, demonic steel, and so on. Just use an angel blade - it'll kill everything.

People were yelling, there was gasping, shock, horror, incredulity, whatever.

I shoved my face close, grinding out each word, my hand tightening around his neck. "Surprise. That kid, doesn't really know me anymore. Now. Tell me what I want to know, before I shove this blade through your Goddamn fucking neck. Where. Is. My. Brother?"

The back door opened behind me, and the room fell silent.

"Kate…? What...what the fuck're you doing?" Dean's voice shook a little from taking in the bloody scene before him. I mean honestly...we were just gonna eat eggs.

At the sound of his voice, the shifter flinched, eyes rolling toward Dean, only to widen in fear. "Shit...shit! I didn't tell them anything! I swear! I swear!"

Without warning, "Adam" shoved me, pulled a knife from his pocket (fuck...missed that…), and thrust it into his chest. Dad rushed him, trying to wrench the knife from his grasp, but it was silver, so...yeah. He died within seconds, forcing Dad to hold up the body while Bobby freed him from the wall. Dad let the body slump to the floor, reflexively taking a step back, his breaths rapid and harsh.

There was an awkward silence, then everyone started talking at once. Dad, pointedly avoiding me, filled in the boys while Bobby took me by the elbow, gently guiding me out of the room. My eyes lingered on notnotnot Adam's corpse, and I fought against a wave of nausea as the reality of the situation sunk in.

He was gone. Again. And this time, I had no idea where he was. The scar tingled, probably imagined, but it bothered me all the same.

Even though it was early, Bobby had a glass of booze in my hand immediately, and almost as immediately, it was down my throat.

"Bobby, we gotta - "

"I know. Sam's already huntin' through Adam's phone, which seems to actually be his phone. GPS was on, and he's gonna track where it's been."

I nodded, eyes darting everywhere, taking in my surroundings, remembering where I was, that I wasn't going back to the Cage, that I wasn't going to Hell. We were just gonna go to the woods or something.

Right?

That had to be it. And it was a shifter. Not a deranged archangel. Adam was fine. Not broken and battered and beyond sanity.

He was fine.

Just had to find him.

Right?