Bonus Chapter

Chapter Twenty-Six, Fire, Eyes on Fire

1994

Being angry was easier than anything else. Things between Katherine and her mother had been steadily deteriorating over the years and they only got worse the more time they spent with the Winchesters. Her mother was prone to dropping her off with John and his sons while she went out on a ghost hunt. Janine believed that her daughter was too weak and incompetent to be of help –had probably felt that way for quite some time. It was bittersweet for Kat, since she got to spend more time with Dean when she really just wanted to be out there proving to her mother that she was a damn fine hunter. John trusted Dean more than Janine did her and by continually shipping her off with some cash for either Bobby or John to take care of her, she couldn't prove herself.

It was how she always got in trouble on a hunt. Dean was good at following orders. Sam followed them so long as he agreed with them. Kat did what John wanted, until she thought she saw a better opening. They were in Connecticut doing a casual salt and burn. Sam had to stay behind and study for a test. Dean could have used some more studying, probably, but he insisted that it was fine and really, John needed the help. Unlike the others, Kat didn't have any tests so she was free to go with them.

"You see a ghost, you shoot," John reminded her with a stern look. "You stay here."

Kat nodded eagerly. "Yes sir."

Dean flashed her a cocky grin as he followed his father into the basement. About fifteen years earlier there had been a serial killer living here –he was convicted of the charges but they couldn't find the bodies. A half a dozen more mysterious deaths had taken place here and after looking into things, John had announced that the bodies had likely been buried in the basement. Dean was going with him to keep any ghosts away while he was jack-hammering the concrete out of the way so they could access the bodies. Kat's job was to keep anyone living out of the house and to shoot whatever ghosts she saw in order to make Dean and John's life easier.

And things were going great. Until Kat could hear Dean firing the shot gun and John started to yell out. Her job was to stand watch… but she couldn't. What if they were in need of help? A second too late to do anything, and the ghosts could kill them. So she raced downstairs and fired at some of the ghosts when she saw him. The serial killer, the long dead bastard that wasn't supposed to be here terrorizing them. He flung her back and she flew through the air for what seemed to last an eternity before her head crashed back into a wall and darkness swallowed her up hungrily.

When she came to, she was in the Impala, stretched out across the seats with her head cradled on Dean's lap.

"Dad," he was protesting. "We can't do this –she was trying to help."

"She could have gotten us killed!"

Kat struggled to mask her flinch at the loudness of John's voice –everything hurt and there was an agonizing pain in the back of her head which seemed to be centered around a migraine.

"Bobby can look after her. I don't have time for this, Dean."

She felt his hand settle on her shoulder, squeezing it –perhaps reassuringly –but she still couldn't bring herself to open her eyes to try and read Dean's expression.

"Sam listens better than she does!" he continued.

"That doesn't make her a bad hunter!" Dean protested. "Some of her decisions have helped us out. I couldn't have kept all those ghosts back by myself." It said a lot about her relationship with Dean that he was willing to admit to his father that there was something he couldn't do. He was such a good guy. When he wasn't being a total asshole. And when he thought no one was watching.

Thick and heavy silence filled the car.

"I don't want you spending more time with her," John said gruffly. "She's a liability."

Kat bit down on her lip hard enough to draw blood in order to keep from starting a fight with John Winchester. Fights with him only ever ended up with one ending –John being proven right. Even if he was wrong.

"Janine gets along with Bobby, she'll be more likely to answer him if he calls. I can't be looking after three kids. She's a hell of a shot, but that don't make up for her insubordination."

1995

Kat spent three quarters of the year at Bobby's. She saw Dean once more, laughing and joking around and staying as far from her as he could. Sam smiled apologetically and hugged her. If he knew about John's order to Dean, he didn't say anything about it.

And Dean was actually insufferable. If he wasn't talking about how John had finally let him drive the Impala, or about how he had got to go on his first werewolf hunt, then he was talking about his sexual experiences and ribbing Sam for his virginity.

It wasn't the first time Kat had wanted to kill him.

She had been the first one to kiss him and they had done considerably more than just make-out by the end of their visits together. John had given no indication of his disapproval prior to him dumping her off at Bobby's. Eight months had passed since she had last heard from Dean, since she had last touched him –eight long, long months since she had last kissed a boy –and now he was back, he hadn't even bothered to say hi to her. He did seem to go out of his way to talk about his awesome flings though, and all the cool things that she was supposed to be learning.

Bobby was great, really he was. Kat learned a lot of things from him. Mostly researching stuff but he had taken her out on a fair few hunts of her own. Not that Dean would know; not that he would care. Janine hadn't. Bobby was patient and before they went in, they discussed a plan and even if she was a little trigger-happy, Bobby simply assigned her more practice. He talked to a few other hunters and arranged to create a tense atmosphere where the goal was to surprise her into shooting. It was a good thing rock salt bullets didn't kill.

By the end of her first two and a half months at Bobby's, she knew how he worked and she did her best to live up to his expectations. Janine and John never really gave her an expectation to grow into, only one that capped her at a trigger happy overly emotional teenager.

It didn't surprise anyone, really, when she had enough of Dean's bragging. She had grown up with him. They were pretty equal most of the time. Bobby had taught Kat how to strategize and how to think things through a bit more, which would be invaluable once she was out on the road as a lone hunter. She was never going to work with anyone ever again.

She waited for the right moment.

She happened to be lounging on the couch when Dean came downstairs, smug, hair damp from his shower. He put the phone back with a bright grin. "Ah man, I can't believe Natalie actually phoned," he laughed. "You remember her right Sam?!" he called.

Sam was in the study. A whopping five and a half feet away from the kitchen entrance.

"Yeah," came Sam's muffled, and uninterested, response.

"She's the one that I saved from the werewolf last month," Dean explained unnecessarily –he hadn't shut up about Natalie since he walked through the front door. "She's a real livewire. I got in there just in time-"

"You've only said it forty times," Kat snapped icily. "Could you stop talking about yourself for five seconds?"

Dean scoffed. "You're just jealous."

"Of who?" Kat demanded crossly. "Some pathetic bitch who thinks you're the world's best until you never see her again? Or am I supposed to be jealous of all the action you're getting?"

Dean frowned at her. "It's not like you see any."

Kat lunged at him. She tackled him, driving him to the floor –he rolled, dragging her with him. She wasn't going to go easily though. She jammed her knee up just as he moved in to pin her. He yelped in pain, jerking back with angry, watery eyes. He doubled over, breathing in deeply as he waited for the pain to subside. Kat huffed triumphantly.

"What was that for?!" he cried out. "That was totally uncalled for, Kat! You don't just knee a guy in the balls!"

"It's because you're a fucking asshole!" she shouted.

"What?" He stared at her, like he was actually shocked at her words.

Kat stared back at him, too frustrated to find words to reply to his cluelessness. He had no idea. No idea at all how it had felt to be ditched here, to never have him try and contact her just because John had said so. She thought she mattered more than that. Sam had even called –he wished her a happy Easter and a happy birthday. Even if it wasn't something they ever did, he found excuses. He got hold of the phone while Dean was out with his girlfriend of the week, while John was out hunting. Dean never even tried.

"You're so stupid, Winchester!" She curled her hands into fists and considered punching him, just to feel better.

"No fightin' in the house!" Bobby growled.

Kat didn't linger. Whirling on her heel, she stormed out of the house without a second glance. She weaved past the rusted fixer-uppers until she found her little spot. She dropped down behind the pick-up truck and crawled through the small gap between it and the SUV in order to see the van she called her own. Bobby had a lot of cars to work through before he got to this one, and it was at least something she could call her own. The door was broken, open just a crack, enough that she could squeeze her way in. The seats were still in good condition, which allowed her to curl up in solitude and remain comfortable through it.

It wasn't like it was her choice to be stuck here. She'd gotten into too much trouble at school so now she was being homeschooled by Bobby. He didn't go into town much so she didn't either. And it wasn't like cute school aged boys had a penchant for dropping by. So no, she didn't and couldn't see anyone for another year. She had her license already, but she couldn't go anywhere without anyone with her. Pointless, yet again.

Kat scrubbed at her eyes angrily, making sure no tears had escaped unnoticed. She wasn't pathetic enough to cry over Dean Winchester, The Stupidest Idiot In The World. Why couldn't she like Sam instead? At least he wasn't as stupid. And he listened to her. She wrinkled her nose. No, not Sam. For starters, he was too young and secondly so not her type. Worry swarmed her abruptly. Was Dean her type? Because if he was, wasn't she screwed? If every guy she ever liked was just like Dean, then she was going to be in big trouble because none of them would ever call her either. And all they would do would brag, brag, brag.

"Kat?"

She froze, lifting her head.

"Kat…" and that sounded an awful lot like a plea. "Kitty, please."

She moved out of the van slowly, looking around to find where he was. "What do you want?" she demanded crossly.

Dean whirled around, smiling sheepishly at her. "To talk?"

"Don't you mean to brag?" she growled unhappily. "Because that's all you've done."

"Oh come off it already! Like you wouldn't throw it in my face if you –"

"If I what?! If I wasn't stuck here? If I hadn't been expelled, as though it's still an option to go to school and meet people my age other than you?! Or-or is it that you think my world somehow only revolves around you?!"

"I was just –"

"Just what?" she sneered.

"Can't I be happy for my own successes?"

"Oh because screwing around is suuuuch an accomplishment," she growled. "You have to make sure the whole world knows. So that they understand how much of a macho man you are."

"Could you just shut up for five seconds?" Dean barked, scowling angrily as he strode over, clambering over the pick-up truck.

"Why? I don't think I've said enough! You're the one who's been yapping all bloody week and I haven't said a single thing edgewise have I?"

Dean scoffed, "Yeah, Kat, not a peep out of you."

"What the hell's that supposed to mean?!"

"Exactly what it does!" He slid off the pick-up truck, stopping in front of her.

"I hate you so much right now!"

"Well so do I!"

Clumsily, Kat pressed forward, bringing their lips together heatedly. Dean slid an arm around her, kissing her back just as eagerly. She nipped at his lip roughly, tugging him closer longingly. It never really mattered when Dean was being an asshole. It was annoying that he was incapable of apologizing. But she probably annoyed him just as much. Kat dragged him into the van, slipping her hands under his shirt. Dean moved over her, pressing against her as he slotted their hips together easily. It felt perfect, like this. With Dean.

The world around them slipped away until it was just them, together. Kat wasn't surprised after all the bragging he'd been doing when he pulled back for a breath, reaching for his wallet. It was equal parts awkward, clumsy with a little fumbling on her part. But it was still so much more. She chuckled breathlessly, brushing her hand over his cheek, admiring his bottle-green eyes and delicious lips.

"You're perfect," Dean breathed, his breath brushing over her ear. "You're so perfect, Kitty."

"Mm," she hummed contently, nuzzling into him. "You too."

He chuckled softly.

"Why didn't you come see me?" she murmured. It was too hard to keep it bottled up, to keep playing this guessing game. Was it because of John or something else?

Dean tensed above her, pulling back to look at her. Worry was etched into his face, drawing his brows down –an expression that didn't really suit him. Dean worried about Sam and that was it –Kat hadn't seen him look worried over anyone else in a long time. Let alone her? No, maybe it was because of John.

"I know… I know what John asked you to do." Dean sucked in a breath and then released it in a short laugh. "I overheard you."

"Yeah I – I didn't, he did say that."

"Is that why you didn't… y'know, come by? Or call?"

"You know I can't drop what I'm doing to call you," he griped.

"Sam did. He phoned at Easter and for my birthday." She couldn't help the resentment that crept into her voice.

Dean pulled back, reaching for his shirt blindly. "Well I've been –I've been busy."

"Screwing around," she supplied darkly.

"We agreed!" Dean snapped, finally getting ahold of his shirt. "We agreed that it wasn't going to work with us if we went steady. Your mom dumped you off enough it was working –but Kat I can't just come see you because you get lonely."

Kat bit the inside of her cheek to keep from arguing. "I don't want you – I don't need to hear about it. Or you."

"Wh-what?"

"This was great, while it lasted, but I can't do this right now. I can't listen to you strutting about boasting about all the women throwing themselves at you. I'm happy for you, really."

"Kitty –"

"It's fine Dean. When I get out of here…" she shrugged, putting her bra back in place with shaking hands. "I'm stuck here for now. I'll talk to you later, when I'm, y'know, not."

Dean tried to protest, tried to disagree. He tried to get her to listen but Kat didn't want to hear it.

They made this deal between them around a year and a half ago. They could fool around, do whatever they wanted and so long as they were near each other, only with each other. But they bounced around from a lot of places. Kat didn't hold it against Dean when he found a pretty face and went on a date or two and Dean gave her the same courtesy. Kat was the one breaking this deal by getting so worked up over his boasting.

"At least one of us gets to have some fun," she told him before heading back to Bobby's.

By the time they were there, John was already waiting, the Impala idling as Sam hauled their bags out. Dean exchanged a worried look with Kat before hurrying to the car.

1998

Kat hadn't seen either of the Winchesters in over two years. She hadn't heard from them in over a year. She was happily out from under Bobby's nose and well on her way to disappearing from her mother's hair. The sooner the better, really. It was a completely random and unexpected encounter that happened on her way through New Mexico. She was heading back to her car after hustling some pool when she walked straight into a familiar leather jacket.

"…Kat?!" Dean asked, shocked.

Kat blinked up at him, determining by the steady appearance of him that it was really him and not the alcohol in her system.

"W-what are you doing here?" she slurred. "Thought you were –in –in New York."

"I was," he agreed, concernedly reaching out a steadying hand. "I think you've had a bit too much to drink."

"Naaaaaaah," Kat mumbled, drawling the word out.

"W- Kat, you weren't planning to drive were you?" Dean demanded crossly.

"Nope!" She replied happily, popping the p obnoxiously.

She knew better than to drive and drink after tenth grade, when Suzy got herself killed. She was just gonna sleep it off in her car. Like she always did. She hummed, inhaling the familiar scent of old leather and gun smoke.

Dean sighed. "Kat, where are you staying at?"

"Uh." It wasn't that she didn't want to tell him, but she didn't want to tell him. She'd gone hustling tonight in order to hopefully scrounge up enough to get a room and a decent meal, but that fell through pretty quickly and her target liked to supply her with alcohol. Nothing wrong with a little liquor, or a lot of liquor. "S'good," she slurred, "s'real good."

"What?" Dean asked exasperatedly.

"The booze."

He heaved a sigh. "Alright, come on." Dean helped her into the Impala.

The ride back to his motel was a bit of a blur, but Kat knew that she didn't get sick in the car. Despite Dean's grumblings that she better not, she did know how to hold her alcohol better than that.

The morning after brought a lot more clarity when Kat woke up in Dean's bed. And she didn't wake up alone either, able to feel Dean's warm presence next to hers. But she wasn't naked and neither was Dean, so that was… a relief? Kat wasn't really sure what it was.

She groaned, wiggling out from the hot, constricting sheets. There was an all-too familiar ache in the back of her head as she crawled out from the blankets and hobbled into the bathroom. Whatever anyone said, being hung over was not worth this. But at least she knew that her fake ID still worked, three states over from where she had it made.

"Kat?" Dean asked sleepily as he sat up.

"M'alright," Kat muttered, splashing her face with cold water. She emerged a minute after.

"What was last night?"

"Hustling," she replied easily. "It's not like you've never done it."

"You pretend to be drunk, you don't get shitfaced," he reprimanded.

"Get off my back, Winchester," she snarked. "I don't need another person breathing down my neck."

Dean blinked. "Sorry I didn't –Sam went out for the first time, last week. Habit, I guess."

Kat shrugged, sitting down on the end of the bed. Dean stretched, covering a yawn.

"So it-it's been awhile," Kat offered, trying for casual. "How've you been?"

"You know… same old. You?"

"Good, really. Found a few hunts."

"Dodged Janine's attempts at getting ahold of you?"

"Yup. She's still trying though." Kat flashed a smile his way. "You know how she is."

"Persistent," he replied amusedly. "She calls Dad at least once a month to see if he's heard from you."

She snorted. "Because your dad and I are totally bffs." Kat laughed. "What about Bobby?"

"Uh, Dad and Bobby don't talk much…" Dean shrugged. "They had a bit of a falling out," he added at her look. "Sam's staying with Caleb, right now. Dad got a couple leads. I'm here, Dad's in Phoenix."

"Caleb?" Kat wrinkled her nose. "I'm sure they get along well."

But without Bobby it wasn't like John had a lot of friends. Caleb was pretty decent as far as hunters went.

"Well enough. Sam's more into books than hunting," Dean shrugged again.

"That's not really surprising. John must be thrilled."

"They fight all the time."

"I can imagine." Kat smiled at Dean, taking his hand. "How long have you been doing solo hunts?"

"'Bout as long as you," he quipped mischievously, pulling her closer.

Kat laughed, eagerly shoving the pounding in her head aside as she crawled into his lap. "Oh really? Got any new scars?" She grinned up at him.

Dean smirked back. "Loads."

Kat tsked playfully. "Lemme see," she demanded, slipping her hands under his shirt.

"Impatient," Dean teased, lifting his arms obediently so she could pull his shirt off.

There were no fresh scars, no healing wounds. A few bruises, a couple of scars that hadn't been there before. Kat made sure to kiss those better, to map them out. It was something they'd done before, when they were just making out. They both had a fair collection of them.

Kat could remember during high school gym classes, before she started skipping them, when most of her classmates were leery of her scars and never pointed them out. When she got older, they started to take a perverse joy in it, almost like the words were supposed to hurt. As though scars were something to be ashamed of. Kat didn't know how to feel ashamed because of her scars. They weren't shameful. Her mother didn't cover hers up; Dean and Sam used to compete to see who had the nastiest wound and the biggest scar.

Each scar was a story, a unique history of their lives. She kissed the newest scar on his chest, the smooth line caused by what was probably a monster claw. Maybe by a werewolf.

Dean rolled them over easily, positioning himself over her as he trailed kisses down her neck, sliding her shirt up and out of his way. He gently dragged his thumb over the raised scar that went from her shoulder over her collar bone. It was only three or four inches long. It was from when she was sixteen, on a hunt with Dean where he saved her. It was their first time dealing with a Minotaur and neither of them had been expecting it. They were expecting a chimera, not the bull-headed man who nearly speared himself a sixteen year old girl. Dean got in the way, nearly breaking his arm in the process but saved Kat from death. It wasn't the first time and it probably wouldn't be the last.

Dean kissed the scar absently. "No new scars in danger of overshadowing this one?"

Kat smiled up at him. "No. I like to save my life-threatening injuries for when I'm around you."

It had been two years since she last talked to Dean, heard his voice. This was normal for them. Being together.

Dean chuckled. "What, need me there to patch you up?"

"No one else can do it like you," she teased. "With your calloused hands and alcohol as a good cure-all. I'd much rather lay bleeding out, waiting for you than to go see a doctor."

Dean rolled his eyes, sucking a mark onto her neck as his hand slid lower.