1995

Kat bit her lip as her mother worked on stitching her up, her eyes glued to the ceiling as she focused on anything other than the sensation what was going on to her shoulder.

"What did I tell you?" Janine growled, ruthlessly continuing. "You know to watch your back -how many times do I have to tell you that!"

"Few more apparently," she ground out.

"You're so useless!"

Her whole body tensed, she shut her eyes, fighting to not clench her fingers and biting her lip to keep from this turning into a screaming match. She knew the Winchesters were next door and at this point a screaming match would only make things worse. She'd probably end up over there for Dean to patch up her mother's handiwork while their parents went off for a drink. John was pretty good at playing oblivious when shit was going on that he didn't want to know about.

"There," she growled. "Done."

Janine packed up the supplies, moving away. "You'd better go thank Dean -he saved your ass in there."

"Yeah, I know," Kat growled back. Her mother was pretty good at failing to notice Dean's flaws -or at least she never criticized him for them. Because Dean had been injured too, but not quite as badly.

"You've been doing hunts with me longer than he has -how is it that you're such a useless kid?" Janine shook her head disappointedly. "Get out."

Kat didn't wait to be told twice, darting out of the hotel room, fighting back her impulse to cry. It wouldn't make things any better. She dug in her pocket for some change, wandering over to the vending machine and out of her mother's way. She grabbed a pop, leaning back against the wall as she took a long drain from it. Alcohol could always be a little more soothing, but being surrounded by adults didn't make it easy to access. Dean probably had a bottle tucked away somewhere, he usually nabbed one when his father was out -physically or mentally -never really made a difference.

It wasn't very long until Janine stormed out of their motel room and walked over to the Winchesters' room. She gave an impatient rap on the door and Kat shifted so there was no way her mother could see her from where she was standing. A moment passed and then she heard the door open, and then two pairs of boots walking down the gravel parking lot to where the Impala was no doubt parked. She heard the familiar rumble of the old car as it started up, and waited until she couldn't hear it anymore before she relaxed.

She took another long, refreshing drink from her cola, blocking out the pain in her arm. Her mom was definitely not the best when it came to stitching up wounds. John wasn't a gentle soul either, but he did a much better job at it than her mother. Sam was by far the best though. Kat sighed in frustration, finishing off her sugary beverage. She was stuck with Janine for a few more years at least, but as soon as she could, she was going to go off on her own. It was better to be a legal adult when that happened, than to live off of fake IDs and to try and pass older. It wouldn't exactly be hard either, it was sort of what they were already doing -and Kat was prepared for that too. If she got sick and tired of it, she had hustled some money and tucked it away with enough fake IDs to get her thirty states away in the opposite direction. It was an eventuality that she was prepared for, to say the least.

She heard one of the motel doors creak open, someone heaved a sigh and a few shuffling steps later Dean was standing before her. His arm was in a sling and he shot her a lop-sided grin, holding a beer out to her. Kat smiled back tiredly, setting the bottle down by the vending machine before throwing her arms around him.

"You okay?" he asked a bit gruffly, shifting to rest his good arm around her back.

"When aren't I?" she retorted. With a sigh she admitted, "A bit sore, but I'm fine."

"Good."

Kat reluctantly pulled away and eyed his arm, "Are you okay?"

"This?" Dean asked with a grin, indicating his sling. "Totally fine. I've had worse."

"Who hasn't?" she teased, accepting the bottle of beer he held towards her. She twisted the cap off easily, taking a long drink from it. Her mother, unlike many hunters was very strict on alcohol. She would only have some if she was at a bar, after a successful case. Or if she was going out with John. She never kept any around, unlike John who always seemed to have a few tucked away that Dean had no problem with getting into when his dad wasn't looking.

She leaned against his good arm lightly, and felt him smile against her hair where he pressed a light kiss. Dean was the only consistent guy around her age that she spent time with and it was the same for him. Between having to make sure that Sam was looked after and out of trouble, as well as having to be on guard for their parents, it did sometimes make things tricky. Not every time they ran into each other guaranteed anything, but the rare moments when it was like this, meant a lot. And the times when Sam wasn't a problem, were arguably the best times. Granted, that first time had been more than awkward for the both of them and she had feared things between them would never be the same. But in the end they wound up with the Impala in a 'date spot' where they were able to work past it. And things just got better from there.

I'm Gonna Be (500 Miles)

After a while, Sam stopped calling. Alyssa couldn't really figure out what was going on but it turned out Jo was more connected than she was and gave her the news. Dean Winchester was dead. No one really seemed to know more than that. Sam was AWOL and no one had heard from him since before the end of May and now it was the beginning of June. Jo at least kept in contact with her, so did Ellen to an extent.. They would drop by every now and then to the little bar she worked at, earning just enough to afford a motel room and enough to scrape by for meals. She looked at her phone, brushing her finger across the screen, wishing Sam would call. She'd been leaving messages since about the middle of May, when he hadn't called her like he usually did. Alyssa had been hoping for the best, but this was probably closer to a worst case scenario. Reluctantly, she decided to give him some time to himself to work out his issues. To work out his grief. It would have been nice to hear it from Sam rather than Jo or Ellen, but she knew that with the pain he was buried under it was probably better she didn't hear from him.

Three days later she woke up at 3am to her phone's chirpy ringtone. She grabbed it, fumbling to answer it, barely awake as she had hardly just fallen asleep. By the time she had it up to her ear, it had gone to voicemail. After beating in the password, Sam's voice slurred out.

"Heeeey, haven't called you in ages… probly not gonna do it 'gain either," he barked what was supposed to be a laugh, but it was so devoid of humor Alyssa wasn't even sure he meant it as a laugh. "Listen… I got your messages like… all fifty of them? And I just want you to know… That I'm okay. I've got everything under control a-and I'm gonna find a way to bring him back. So… don't worry 'bout it. And uh, I don't think I'll be calling again…" Beep.

Alyssa stared in shock at her cell phone. No. That was not the ending. Not at all. No way -Sam didn't get to just… decide that on his own. What did he mean by it anyway -would bringing Dean back cost him his life -would that be why he wouldn't phone her? What…. was he planning? More annoyed than before, and feeling the hurt ache in her chest, she dialed his number back.

He didn't answer.

She tried six more times. On the sixth try he hung up on her. She had worked herself to the point of near tears, and he wasn't going to explain more to her. So she sent him one last text. Be safe. And then she was out of bed, getting dressed and grabbing what very little cash she had managed to save up. She sent a call to Jo, telling her where she would be and that she might be needing a ride back from the place. She walked to the nearest bus depot and had to wait two hours before she was heading off to South Dakota. She really didn't know what else to do.

It was a very long ride, and although she went without any food, a few kind mothers had shared some of their lunches with her. Many transfers and over twelve hours later, an exhausted half-asleep Alyssa was getting off at the bus depot in Sioux Falls. She grabbed a map, looking up the direction she had to go to get to Singer's Salvage Yard. The woman at the counter directed her in the right way, and Alyssa was able to sneakily take a picture of the map with her cell phone camera before she set out. It was late evening, the sun just starting to descend towards the mountains as Alyssa walked down the streets for what seemed like forever and a day before she could even start to see that Bobby lived a lot further out than she thought. Sam had told her once, that if she ever got into trouble she could come to this man -Bobby Singer, and he would help her however he could. Well, the same applied for Sam then.

It had to be almost ten o'clock at night by the time Alyssa arrived at the wrecker's and knocked wearily on the door. An old man with graying hair tucked underneath a blue and white trucker's cap opened the door, eyeing her suspiciously.

"I'm here about Sam?" she offered uncertainly.

"Who are you?"

"His… friend," she replied weakly. "Please."

"I haven't heard from Sam in weeks," he replied gruffly, opening the door to let her in.

Relieved, Alyssa entered the building. "He just phoned me. And I-I think he might be in trouble."

"Well why don't you sit down and we'll talk? How do you know Sam anyways?" he questioned, leading her out to the small kitchen. He grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, offering it -Alyssa nodded gratefully and Bobby poured her a glass.

"We went to Stanford together. But more than just that, we were like best friends until demons killed Jess right? And then I was on the run," she laughed nervously, taking a sip from the glass Bobby had handed to her. "Well anyways, I learned the hard way about all this Supernatural stuff. I worked at the Roadhouse for awhile and ran into Sam again. He, uhm, left this message last night." Nervously she typed in her password, letting the sound of a drunken Sam practically breaking up with her play through the room.

Bobby listened closer, a dark frown creasing his face. "Sam tell you to come here?"

"Only if I was ever in trouble," Alyssa replied meekly.

Bobby nodded as though it was the answer he expected. Alyssa jumped when she heard the stairs above them creak as someone wandered down. A young woman wandered into the kitchen, one arm extended above her head as she stretched. She had short red hair that just grazed the back of her shoulders, but the cut itself kept her hair from getting in her face. She blinked in shock.

"Oh sorry, didn't know you had company Bobby."

She was wearing black skinny jeans with a fitted white sweater that had emerald green designs woven along the front of it. She had very fair skin and wasn't afraid of showing it off either.

"Hey Kat, this is…" he glanced at Alyssa.

"I'm Alyssa Jones," she replied, holding her hand out toward the other woman.

Kat offered her a smile, "Kat Calloway," she said, shaking her hand. "You look kind of familiar."

"I worked at the Roadhouse for a bit."

"Huh. Probably saw you around," Kat responded.

"Alyssa, would you mind sharing your message with Kat? She's a good friend to th- to Sam."

Alyssa glanced at Kat, and was surprised to see her green eyes lit with concern and surprise. "How-how do you know Sam?"

"I'm a friend of his, from Stanford, who wound up involved in all of this. Anyways he called me last night and left this message," with a soft sigh she replayed the message once more. The ache in her chest wasn't going away either.

Kat and Bobby both exchanged a knowing look, and by their grim expressions Alyssa decided she would rather stay out of it. They would find Sam and they would save him from whatever he was about to do. And that was that. Sam was insisting that he was fine and would be fine. And honestly, believing was easier right now. But other problems faced her. Such as whether Jo would be able to come and get her or not. She could probably stay with her for a bit, no doubt Ellen hot on their heels, but at the very least she would be more involved.

Hunting was not what Alyssa Jones wanted to do with the rest of her life. She wanted to work -and had long since accepted that she wouldn't be able to ignore the supernatural since it roamed around just about everywhere -she wanted to get married, and she wanted to have a family. That was it. Just a nice big family. Her dream that she could ever return home and see her parents had gone up in smoke when she 'died'. Currently she had new records and IDs courtesy of Sam and Dean, everything she would need to pass off as someone she wasn't. But she did miss her family.

"I'll leave you guys to… do whatever you have to," she told them. "I think I'd rather stay out of this though." Last time she hadn't had a choice. This time, she just… Whatever was going on with Sam, she was better off not being involved. It would be for the best.

Instead of Jo, Ellen had arrived and within minutes she was leaving, laying in the back of her van and practically passing out after she filled her in on what information she had.

Kat watched the other woman as she left. "So how are we even going to find him? If he doesn't want to be found, it isn't going to be easy Bobby."

"We'll find him. Before he does something stupid," he sighed, taking a long swig from his flask.

"I wish he could have... just walked out and never got involved in this stupid shit," Kat growled. "What's he got left? He's got you and me -and that's it. Goddammit," she exhaled, tapping her fingers against the counter. "He wasn't supposed to be sucked back down here." How she wished she hadn't screwed up things between her and Dean.

If things were different... she might have known what was going on with Sam, with everything, so much sooner. As much as Dean was angry that Sam left, Kat had been proud of him. For being able to leave. She had stayed with her mother until she was eighteen and left her within the same hour. She had endured the name calling and the botched stitches for all of her life -she still had the jagged ugly scars to prove it too. There were so many times she was just ready to leave. But, somehow, she always ended up staying with her insane mother. Janine was more than just obsessed. She had made the Hunt into her life somewhere along the way.

Sam was stuck with John and Dean, and even so, he got away from his father. It was something to be proud of, that she could respect. But it would make things tricky. Sam might not know they were coming, and by the sound of how drunk he was on that message, he might be getting sloppy enough that they could do something about it. Stop him from selling his soul. Kat was mad at Sam, for keeping her out of that room. She still believed that she could have done something -at least tried something -but Sam was adamant. Bobby had told them both to shut up several times, but Kat was so mad at Sam for it when he explained everything to Bobby. And then he said one of the few things she could forgive. She was mad at him, but Sam was like family to her. And Dean would've wanted her to look after him, to make sure that he was okay. Bobby knew it too. Kat hadn't expected him to disappear as quickly as he had, but it wasn't entirely surprising either. She sighed and turned away from the window.

"I'll start trying to track him down," she admitted, walking back out of the kitchen to find her laptop. There was an order to things in life generally. John sacrificing himself for Dean was probably one of the most shining moments of how much his sons mattered to him. He saved Dean. But then Sam died. And now it was just this ugly snake devouring itself. Sam would end up next. Most likely, if he couldn't save Dean, he would die trying. He was too far down that road already. The guilt from knowing why Dean had done it in the first place, and then being unable to save him... It wasn't his fault. John made the decision for Dean, much as Dean made his decision for Sam. Neither of them consented to the pain and agony they endured.

Kat searched online for their usual aliases. Her mom was pretty fond of using the same methods. She paused to consider which music legends Sam enjoyed, desperately hoping some hotel chain somewhere might have an idea. Unfortunately, one of them seemed to think it was some great joke and replied that Mr. Jovi wasn't interested in speaking to anyone. Kat spent the whole day with Bobby trying down every hotel and motel within a fifty mile radius of a crossroads. It wasn't until nearly three hours later that Kat realized the motel woman joking with her, might not have been. Because Bon Jovi was off in England on tour -nowhere near the States. Especially nowhere near some dumpy little town in Montana of all places.

They were on the road in under ten minutes, speeding towards the small town of Hazel, Montana and their most expensive motel. Sam was covering his tracks pretty well, granted. The alias turned out to be a little too easy by the time they got there, but a few circles around the dumpy town showed them where the Impala was parked. Sam wouldn't leave her behind. It was his last connection to his father, but more importantly, to his brother. Kat threw her car into park, jumping out of it and running inside. Bobby wasn't very far behind her either. Kat didn't waste time, sweet talking the clerk effortlessly with batting her eyelashes and flaunting her breasts a little more than necessary and he so very "accidentally" let her see the names of residents.

"Mr. Johnny Electric" was in the room at the end of the hall. A honeymoon suite, interestingly enough. Kat raced straight down to it, pounding her fist against the door.

When a woman with obvious sex hair answered the door, Kat was more than just a little stunned. Until Sam walked over, opening the door wider. Likewise, his hair was a mess and he just had that small dimpled smile. For the most part, he looked okay.

"...Kitty?"