Okay so I apologize for this, but I always think of Kat as Kitty. I'm not sure if you guys have a preference, but I would assume you'd like me to stick with a name for her and I'll stick with whatever you guys want me to, so if I get two reviews and each mentions an opposite preferential, I'll probably keep writing as I am. I'm not sure if it's distracting or not...

When Dean woke up, it was to a very interesting headache and confusion. The last thing he remembered was being pulled into that rift and surrounded by… cold, moving things. Something told him that for as strange and shiver-inducing as that was, that Hell was going to make it look like a walk in the park. He hadn't died. He had been there, alive, but able to feel the dead around him. Writhing together, ghostly touches to him like silken fabric pressing against him and for awhile he thought they were suffocating him. There was no… movement, no physicality there. He closed his eyes again, pressing his fingers into the mattress before sitting up. Aside from that crushing asphyxia, there had been distant voices and what felt like powders shoved down his throat before someone was… there. Another physical presence. There was no vision in the void, nothing beyond the single solid sense of existing. There was nothing to touch, nothing to taste, smell, hear or see.

He heaved a sigh of relief, looking around the motel room. The peeling wallpaper was as close to a homely feeling he knew, other than that of the worn leather seats of the Impala. He glanced over, spotting Sam crashed out on the other bed. He looked physically well, at least, he could still see his brother's steady breathing. Everything was… okay.

And did that have more to do with Sam or someone/thing entirely? He could only hope it wasn't Ruby. He got to his feet slowly, working the kinks from his shoulders. How long had he been out? He looked around, spotting his duffle, he started rooting through it for a clean set of clothes when the motel door creaked open softly. Instinct had him turning warily, reaching for the knife he carried in his duffle only to see Kat standing there, shutting the door behind her. She didn't seem to have seen him just yet.

The pre-dawn light disappeared behind the door, barely peeking through the curtains as she stretched and moved towards him. She jerked suddenly, her eyes flying to his the moment he reluctantly put his knife away. A slow smirked curved its way across her face and her eyes lit up as she checked him out.

"You always look better on your feet Winchester," she grinned.

"And you always look better on a bed," he retorted. "What are you even doing here?"

"Saving your ass."

"Saving -how do you figure that?" He pulled out his fresh clothes out from the bottom of his bag, tossing them on his bed.

"Well that depends on if you're giving me a show now or later," she teased.

"I think I'd need a few more layers to make it worthwhile."

"Oh no, the layers don't matter," she laughed softly.

From the other bed came a low groan. "Seriously guys? Get a room," Sam grumbled.

"Rise and shine Sammy," Dean called, throwing a shoe at the lump before he walked into the bathroom. He was going to have to reconsider a few things if Kat was here. And have a serious talk with Sam.

Mad World

To say it was awkward was an understatement, as the three of them sat down for breakfast three hours from Salem. Kat could practically see the tension rolling from Dean and just as apparent was Sam's guilt. No doubt during the drive here, Dean had some choice words to say. But, despite Sam's guilt he was probably feeling rather smug with himself considering that she was still here. Their waitress made her way over, and Kat bristled as she caught Dean's wandering gaze.

"Another cup of coffee?" the waitress offered, smiling brightly.

"No thanks," Kat interjected, coolly cutting across whatever Dean had been about to say.

Dean turned to her, his eyes flashing in irritation. Sam hid a grin behind his coffee cup. The waitress hesitated for a moment, looking between the three of them before quickly walking off. At least the chit had some brains in her head. Kat offered Dean a smirk in response, stabbing a fluffy piece of pancake and tearing into it.

"You know I'm dying, the least you could do is let me fool around a bit," he retorted.

"Or I could save you from getting any kind of rashes or other unpleasant things, considering you can never really know what you're getting."

"You don't have any right," he growled.

"I don't have to sit here and watch you ogle her either," she snapped.

"Then you're welcome to leave, Kat. Walk on out that door."

Sam cast a glance between the two of them, uncertain. Kitty scowled at him. "No. I don't care how hard you push, Winchester, I'm not leaving. You don't get to choose whether or not you protect me -that's my choice, and I'm choosing to be here and to help you."

"I don't want your help."

"You need all the help you can get, Dean," she offered sympathetically.

Sam left the two of them alone in order to contact his -girlfriend? Friend who happened to be a girl? -Kitty wasn't sure who she was, but all she knew was that she was really important to Sam. Unfortunately, Sam's absence meant that she was alone with Dean. They had one lead from John's journal, talking about some psycho scientist who was carving people up. Tomorrow they would be dealing with all of that, but for today, there was nothing they could do but wait.

Kitty sat on the end of Sam's bed, watching Dean idly. It was so obvious that he was trying to push her away so that she would get fed up and leave. And to be honest, she was getting close to that point. But she was determined to help him. She had to try, at the very least. She owed him more than that. He was her best friend, and he had been her lover. They never dated, they were casual, but they had known each other for years long before it ever happened. She had probably broken his heart, which might as well have been an understatement, and in retaliation he had left her similar to how she left him. Which according to Sam, was around the time that he had learned of the deal. Was that what his intention was -to settle any issues between them, so that she might never come back looking for him?

He was a selfish idiot. She had every right to know if she wanted to. And she did. It would never matter how angry she was at him, how frustrated. She would always want to know, always want to be there for him. At the end of the day, she was on Dean's side. He could be the worlds biggest jackass but he was her friend. And he was a good friend. Hurt feelings didn't change that she considered the Winchesters like family. As a matter of fact she liked them more than she liked her own mother. John she had her moments of doubt with him, but neither he nor her mother would ever win parent of the year award. They had taught their children how to survive though. But everything came with a price. At least, she hadn't been stuck alone with her mother. Both the Winchesters were important to her, and it hurt that she had been so out of touch with them the last few years, but she didn't blame Dean for it either. She had her own responsibility to why that had happened, and she could have tried to keep in contact with Sam regardless.

But that didn't matter now.

"Dean…" He glanced back at her. "I'm not going anywhere, okay? I don't care what you do. I'm with you."

"And I don't want you here," he growled.

"What -you gonna tell me I can't take it?" she bit back. "You know I can handle demons, Dean. I choose not to. I want to be there, I have that right."

"My opinion means nothing to you, does it?" he sneered. "I don't want you there."

"Dean… I don't care what you want. I have to be there."

"Why? To see me die -I hadn't realized you hated me that much."

"I don't hate you."

Silence hung between them, thick and heavy in the cold motel room. Dean set down the shirt he was in the process of folding, turning towards her.

"I don't," Kat repeated honestly. "I was mad. I haven't forgiven you because you're dying, but because I… I know I didn't handle that night the way I should have. But that doesn't mean I don't care about you. You're still my friend. My best friend -that hasn't changed. I miss having sex with you -I miss those times we used to sneak out or fake our injuries just a bit more in order to get five minutes alone for a kiss or something. You're… You mean a lot to me, Dean. Whether we're fighting or not, even if I'm angry with you, I need you here." Unexpectedly her voice broke, and for a moment Kat was so caught off-guard, she was completely frozen.

Even Dean seemed shocked by it, whether it was her near-tears or what she had just said, she couldn't tell and it fizzled in a flash of smoke when Sam opened the door. He looked appropriately chastised the second he opened the door and was met with a flurry of activity: Dean turned back away, shoving the rest of his clothes into his duffle while Kat took her phone out and started to look at it, as though they'd been doing anything other than talking.

"Bobby thinks he's found something on Bela," Sam offered.

"Where?"

And that was the end of that conversation, she realized with a pang of regret. If it had been seconds later… What would Dean have said? Would he have said anything? She couldn't tell and she was even less certain if it was relevant. It probably wouldn't change anything. But this time, when Kat got in her car to follow them, Dean didn't make a fuss about it. She could only hope that he understood what she'd been trying to say.

In the end, they were staring down a wall of dead-ends and one suicide mission. With less than twenty-four hours left, Kat went with them to help Bobby out doing whatever she could do. Dean had been avoiding her, for the most part, but he had stopped trying to push her away to a certain extent. He let her come with them, he stopped flaunting the women and as his deal came closer she watched him throw himself into every possible hope he could find. There was a palpable anxiety hovering over their heads. Today was no exception to that either, as they advanced on the small house where Lilith was.

She knew, deep down, that they wouldn't all leave the house. She hated that feeling more than anything. This pervasive sense of certainty that Dean was going to die and they couldn't stop it. Bobby helped the family out and Kat lingered behind with Sam, Ruby and Dean. As reluctant as she was to have any dealings with a demon, the Winchester's conviction was more than enough to convince her. They weren't stupid by any means.

It was with crushing despair that washed over them, that their plan would never work. Kitty was locked out of the room, no doubt one of their hair-brained schemes to try and spare her to some extent. It would be years later before she could ever accept that what Sam had done, had actually saved her life. A blinding white light shot out, and when Kat came to, she was halfway across the living room and she could see Sam cradling Dean's still body, broken sobs shaking his form. Ruby's body was splayed across the floor, eyes open and lifeless as they stared up at the ceiling.

Kat dragged herself over, dazed still from whatever that was. She gently placed a hand on Sam's shoulder and felt him jump at her touch. He didn't look at her though, blinking hard as his body start to shake. Feeling tears well in her own eyes, she wrapped her arms around Sam and angled it so that she couldn't see Dean. She didn't want to remember him… ripped to pieces. But the sounds were something that would linger, the screams and snarls that lingered somewhere in the back of her mind.

Eventually, Sam turned to her, clinging to her for comfort. The guilt… must have been overwhelming. She cried onto his shoulder as he wept for his brother, the tranquil peace and serenity of the house and neighbourhood seemed so unsuited to such grief. But this had been a battlefield, for Dean's soul, his life, and they were the sore losers. It didn't matter that Sam had physically locked her from the room; she didn't care for anything beyond the simple comfort of being with another person, of having that experience as things currently were between them.

By the time Bobby came back around, Kat had managed to move into some automatic functioning and was working on getting Sam to some point of bare functioning. At least he was compliant. Bobby took over when he arrived, but no matter their arguments, Sam wouldn't them burn his brother. And Kat didn't have the heart to try and fight him over it.

And as suddenly as Sam had appeared back into her life, was about as quickly as she slapped him within the week and walked right on back out. Vowing that the next she saw the younger Winchester, she would have a gun in hand.

It was a lie. But it didn't matter at the time.

Nothing really did. There was a hollowness in her chest that she had never felt before. There weren't words for it.