Title credit - Southern Cross by Crosby, Stills, and Nash
The prompts for this were "Try focusing on your life and less on mine" from jacklesverse bingo on tumblr, and "first snow" from Supernatural Writers Community on tumblr
Summary: Holidays aren't always easy for everyone. As Christmas approaches, neither Dean nor Katrina are having the best time. Can they find solace in each other, or is it just too natural to push each other's buttons? Set mid-season 6
Warnings: Mild language and themes of loss and grief
Original posting date 12/3/24
"Hey, I was using that!" Dean exclaimed as the TV remote was yanked out of his hand. It was the middle of the day on a cold, dreary Wednesday, and while he was sure there was plenty he could be doing, with Sam still out cold in Bobby's ghost-proof panic room, taking up residence on Bobby's couch and flipping through crappy day-time TV seemed to be his best option.
God forbid he do it in peace though. Katrina looked over her shoulder at his outburst, that irritating grin of hers in place, and stuck her tongue out at him before flopping down onto the other side of the couch.
"Get better taste in TV and maybe I'll share," she quipped, settling in and starting to do her own flipping. Dean grumbled but settled deeper back into the couch himself. It wasn't worth the fight. Even if he won, she wouldn't stop complaining, and Dean wasn't all that invested anyway. Everything was just white noise these days anyway.
"You're one to talk about taste," he retorted, eyeing her outfit… though the term seemed generous. She was dressed down today, or rather, she hadn't gotten dressed yet, still clad in black and red plaid pajama bottoms and an orange t-shirt that had an illustration stretched across the chest, with Crosby, stills, Nash & Young printed under it and clashed horribly. "I don't know what's worse, your fashion sense or the band."
Katrina rolled her eyes and threw a pillow at his head. "Fuck off. I don't say anything when you dress like a wanna-be biker, do I?"
Dean narrowed his eyes, but Katrina ignored him, her own gaze intent on Bobby's crappy TV.
It had been a few months since Katrina Black had come into Dean's life. She'd been an unwelcome but seemingly non-negotiable addition to his found family when Sam had shown up at his door back in the Fall and he'd had to bring Lisa and Ben to Sioux Falls in search of a safe landing spot while they took care of the djinn. It had taken some time, but what had started as a begrudging tolerance had given way to a genuine friendship, one that Dean had trouble imagining at times how he'd done without. But she still had a way of grating on his nerves at times. Today was one of those days.
He'd been there for just about a week, not counting the day he'd spent trying and failing to fill Death's shoes. Kat had only shown up the day before, but from what Dean understood, she was planning on staying until after Christmas. He'd been more than a little surprised, considering from what he understood she had a full-time job and was missed when she disappeared for too long. The surprise had immediately been replaced by annoyance when she'd told him someone needed to check in on Bobby after Sam's failed attempt at patricide. As if Dean weren't perfectly fucking capable.
Bobby was more than fine. The old bastard was tough as nails. Even robo-Sam didn't have a shot of taking him down. He didn't need Kat checking up on him. Neither did Dean, for that matter. Or Sam. The three of them were fine, and if Kat was just going to lounge around all day and steal his remote, he wasn't sure what help she thought she was being.
"What are you doing here anyway?" he asked after a few minutes of silence. To that point, she still hadn't settled on a channel, but the wrist she had extended towards the TV faltered at his question, and he noticed the shadow of a frown cross her face.
"I told you; I came to check in on Bobby."
She clicked the channel button a few more times, slower than before, and then dropped her arm back to her side and curled deeper into her chosen spot.
"Yeah, okay," Dean allowed, even though he still thought it was stupid. "He's fine though, and last I checked, you were planning on staying till after Christmas, which is still over a week away."
Katrina shrugged, eyes still fixed on the TV. Dean followed her line of sight and noticed she'd landed on I Love Lucy. He had to work not to snort at the predictability. In the months they'd known one another, he wasn't sure he'd seen her pick anything aside from I Love Lucy, Bewitched, Gilligan's Island, or The Munsters. Creature of habit, she called it. Boring was the word Dean used, but it was mostly to get a rise out of her. Given the way she kept him on his toes most of the time, he found it oddly endearing that she had some quirks that were so insanely consistent.
"So what? I have some time off. You got a problem with it?"
"No."
It was a mostly honest answer. He didn't have a problem with it… he just wanted to be left well enough alone. There was enough shit on his mind… the nonstop anxiety over whether Sam was going to wake up and whether he'd be Sam when he did… the near constant ache for Lisa and Ben that only seemed to grow as the holidays approached… his growing concern over whatever goddamn war Cas was fighting but keeping them out of… the bitter anger he was still feeling towards dear old gramps.
The last thing he needed was Katrina and the complicated feelings her presence stirred in him.
"You seem like you've got a problem with it," she prodded, and Dean held back a groan. Why did she always have to poke and prod? "You've been in a mood since I got here."
"I have not been in a mood," Dean deflected, giving an exaggerated roll of his eyes. Katrina snorted and shook her head, clearly not convinced, and Dean's eyes narrowed further. "Just doesn't make sense is all. Christmas with a grumpy old hunter, a coma patient, and a – what did you call me the other day? A stubborn ass? Doesn't exactly scream holiday cheer to me."
A wry smile formed on Kat's face, but it didn't reach her eyes, and Dean thought he noticed her shoulders tense.
"What do you mean? Sounds just like home to me," she jabbed back.
"Aw, c'mon, Kat," Dean pushed, finding himself curious now. "Don't you have a younger sister? Wouldn't you rather spend it with her than with us hacks?"
Dean definitely didn't imagine the reaction that time. Katrina's jaw definitely clenched.
"Jenna's on a cruise with her boyfriend and his family," she informed him flatly. Dean frowned, his mind working overtime to recall what he knew of her situation. From what he understood, she and Jenna were close. Freakishly close… though he understood the irony in having anything to say about something like that himself.
"What, and bailed on you for Christmas?" he asked in disbelief before he could stop himself. Katrina rolled her eyes.
"She didn't bail on me; we talked about it. She'll be back in time for me to see her before she goes back to school. It's no big deal."
Dean doubted that very much, but he wasn't stupid enough to voice as much. He was, apparently, stupid enough to keep digging, however.
"Alright, fine, your sister's not around. Still, though, you gotta have something you'd rather be doing."
"Shut up, I'm trying to watch," she dismissed, but Dean snorted. He was fairly certain that she could quote these episodes by now.
"Bullshit. C'mon, Kat. What's the rest of your family up to? You should spend the time off with them, not watching crap TV on Bobby's couch and helping man the phones."
He realized seconds too late that he'd pushed too far, and when Katrina's head whipped around, he nearly gulped when he saw the fire in her eyes.
"The hell is your problem?" she hissed. Dean felt his mouth drop open, feeling stupid when the words he needed suddenly evaded him.
"Kat, I'm – "
"Save it, Winchester. Why don't you try focusing on your life and less on mine?"
And without another word, she pitched the remote back in his direction and took off towards the stairs, leaving a bewildered Dean in her wake.
The next few days were tension filled to say the least. While their spats typically blew over of their own accord, there was something different about this one that Dean didn't know how to put his finger on. It was a small house, but Katrina still managed to find a way to mostly avoid him. He tried to apologize, but any time he got close, she made up an excuse to be anywhere else, or quickly struck up a conversation with Bobby.
When they were occupying the same space, the snark that had permeated every conversation they'd had in their early days returned tenfold. Dean couldn't seem to say so much as a word without Kat having some sarcastic comment or biting remark to throw back in his direction, even when he was talking to Bobby. It was bad enough that Friday night Bobby cornered him about it, and given Bobby's preference to stay as far out of their disagreements as possible, that was saying a lot.
"What'd you do to Trina?" the old man asked, dropping into a seat at the kitchen table and sliding a beer across the table. Dean looked up from the article he'd mindlessly been scrolling through on Sam's laptop, surprised at the question – though not too surprised to scoop up the offered bottle, even as he pushed the laptop aside.
"Oh, c'mon, Bobby. I didn't do anything. You know how Kat gets. She's been in a mood since she got here."
Bobby, however, looked back skeptically, raising his eyebrows as he took a pull from his own beer.
"Is that so?"
Dean nodded, knocking back his own beer. It was late. There still hadn't been any change in Sam, a thought that was gnawing at Dean like nothing else. The house had been quiet since dinner – pizza Bobby had ordered before Katrina had slipped upstairs, citing she needed an 'early night.'
"Yeah. She came in the other day while I was watching TV, stole my remote, and told me I had no taste. Typical Katrina."
A voice in the back of his head nagged at him that he knew there was more to it than that, but Dean didn't want to get into it with Bobby. He didn't understand what had gone so wrong himself, and he wasn't in the mood to rehash it. Bobby, however, seemed to be able to sense the damn voice.
"Oh yeah, that sounds like her alright," Bobby agreed, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "And I'm sure you didn't clap back at all Mr. Calm and Collected."
Dean sighed and ran a hand down his face.
"I don't know what you want me to say, Bobby. I gave her shit for wearing a Crosby Stills shirt, and I tried to ask her why she was hanging here for the holidays. If that got her all bent outta shape, I gotta say… I thought she was made outta tougher stuff."
Dean had hoped that would be the end of the conversation, but he'd anticipated maybe a bit more ribbing… maybe another round of prodding on the subject. What he didn't expect was the look of utter exasperation tinged with disappointment that flashed across Bobby's face, and Dean found his brow furrowing automatically in confusion.
"What?" he asked. Bobby was quiet for a moment, before he ultimately exhaled, shaking his head slowly. The disappointment seemed to win out over the exasperation.
"You know, Dean," said, his voice surprisingly quiet, "did you ever stop to think that you ain't the only one that's got baggage?"
And just like with Katrina, Bobby was gone before Dean could get any real answers. He kicked at the chair next to him in a bout of frustration before he could think better of it. Why did everything have to be so damn complicated?
The next day, there was still no change in Sam, and Dean found himself sitting once more at the kitchen table, mindlessly flipping through one of Bobby's books, looking for anything they might have missed about souls, when a hat and a pair of gloves landed in front of his face. He looked up in confusion that quickly morphed to surprise when he saw Katrina standing in front of him. She was bundled up in one of her heavier coats, a scarf draped around her neck, hair pulled into a messy side braid, and her hands shoved into her pockets.
"Let's go," she said simply. "I'm getting a Christmas tree to brighten this place up, and you're helping me. Move your ass."
For a moment, Dean stared back at her blankly, too caught off guard for the words to register. But as they did, the skepticism took hold.
"The hell I am," he tossed back. "What do we need a Christmas tree for?"
"If I'm spending my Christmas here, we're getting a tree, and I need your help." And despite the inexplicable guilt that Dean had been feeling for the last few days, he felt a flare of anger.
"Yeah, well no one asked you to spend Christmas here, did they?"
Katrina was already walking towards the door but called back to him over her shoulder.
"Wrong again, darlin. Bobby asked me months ago, which makes you the interloper. C'mon, we'll take my car. Wouldn't want to scratch your precious baby."
Christmas tree shopping was not Dean's idea of a good day. But something about the tension of the last few days and how it had been eating at him pressed in, and Dean found himself pushing to his own feet and following after her, shrugging on his coat as he went.
"Whatever, Black. Just don't expect me to decorate the damn thing."
Christmas tree shopping with Katrina was an experience, to say the least, but Dean had to admit it felt better than sitting around the house had. For a few merciful hours, he was distracted from the constant pull he'd been feeling towards Bobby's basement. Even the memories of doing the same thing with Lisa and Ben the previous year – the only other time Dean could remember going tree shopping – skewed to the sweet side of the bittersweet scale, a gift in and of itself these days.
She was still a little prickly, taking any opportunity she could find to take a stab at him, but Dean gave it back as good as he got, and the tension melted back into the playful banter he had become accustomed to. It was about halfway through the second field that Dean made the mistake of complaining that he was cold, immediately regretting the slip when Katrina's face lit up in her I-told-you-so expression.
"I thought Winchesters didn't get cold," she teased, elbowing him gently. Her hands were still tucked into her pockets, despite the fact that she'd donned gloves for the occasion. Dean rolled his eyes good naturedly.
"I did not say that," he disagreed, and Katrina chuckled.
"No, you were just adamant that you didn't need the hat and gloves I found for you. Because, and I quote, it's only thirty degrees out."
"Yeah, well I didn't expect to be at this for hours," Dean pointed out. Katrina laughed, and Dean tried not to let himself get too drawn into her dazzling smile, or dwell on how pretty she looked with her cheeks all flushed from the cold. That was a path neither of them were equipped to go down, and even with all her rough edges, Dean wasn't willing to risk the friendship they'd formed.
"Joke's on you. Maybe next time you'll listen to me."
"Yeah, yeah," Dean grumbled half-heartedly. "C'mon, what do you think about this one? It looks like it would fit downstairs well enough."
Katrina came to stand next to him, frowning as she studied the tree.
"I dunno, what about there? That's a huge gap," she complained. Dean followed where she was pointing but squinted, not seeing whatever she was talking about.
"What are you, high?" he asked, bending down. "This is the best looking tree we've seen so far."
Suddenly, however, it felt like ice had been poured over the back of his neck, and he yelped, in a way that he never did, too caught off guard at the sensation to do anything else. As he stumbled forward and upright, Katrina's laughter filled his ears, and when he turned around, he found her grinning at him, mischievous glint in her eye and suddenly bare hands visible in front of her. Dean felt his mouth fall open in shock, and Katrina's laughter only grew louder.
"Oh, you're gonna pay for that," he told her, and she wasted no time arching an eyebrow at him in challenge.
"Oh yeah? Good luck." And the next thing he knew, she was off to a running start, her laughter floating back to him over the air. Dean tore after her without a thought, glad they seemed to be the only ones this far out.
Katrina was fast, but he was taller, with a longer stride, and he caught up easily enough. Of course, Kat also had feline-like reflexes, and before he knew it, they both ended up on the ground, both winded, but laughing.
"You're a fucking menace," he complained. She snorted.
"Like you're one to talk."
Dean ran a hand down his face and tried to catch his breath.
"Yeah, yeah. C'mon, I think I've had enough fun for one day. What did you actually think of that tree?"
They were halfway back to the front of the farm, Dean hauling the tree with them, when the snow started to fall. He'd never had any particular attachment to the snow himself, it was just colder rain, but he couldn't help smiling at the way Kat's face lit up.
"Seriously?" he asked. "You getting' all excited about snow?"
Of course, in typical Katrina fashion, she didn't pay him any mind and only grinned wider.
"It's the first snow of the year, don't be a curmudgeon."
"I'm not a curmudgeon, I'm just an adult. Snow's a pain in the ass."
"Yeah, well. Being an adult's boring. Live a little. You might enjoy it."
The snow was still falling, already sticking to the ground and coating the earth in a thin layer of white powder when they reached their destination. The world seemed to grow quieter, muffled against heavy flakes, and with it, Dean noticed Katrina did too. They were almost done, when the kid running the machine to put the net around the trees ran into a problem and had to go inside to get help. That was when Dean noticed Katrina had drifted to the side, leaning against a fence, a faraway look in her eyes and she stared out blankly towards the road. Frowning, Dean approached, hands in his pockets, his expression morphing into one of concern.
"You alright?" he asked.
Katrina jumped, turning quickly and flashing him a smile when she realized he was next to her, but Dean noticed it didn't reach her eyes. Her dark hair was dotted with fresh flakes of snow, growing wet as it melted into her braid. She nodded, but Dean knew better.
"Yeah, I'm good, sorry."
Dean's frown deepened, and he shook his head.
"You don't have to be sorry. What's up, Kat?"
She bit her bottom lip, seeming to wrestle with herself for a moment, her eyes darting back to the road, away from him. Finally, she took a deep breath, exhaling slowly, the expelled breath rustling a few loose strands of hair.
"Nothing, really. I, uh… thanks for coming with me today. I'm sorry, about the other day. About the last few days. I was a real bitch."
Dean had been so caught up in their afternoon that he'd almost forgotten about how they'd ended up there, but at the reminder, he suddenly felt that weird guilt again, and scratched at the back of his neck, feeling the heat creeping up it.
"Oh. No, Kat. You don't have to – I'm sorry, I shouldn't have –"
But Kat finally turned to look at him again, and he fell silent at the look on her face, the subtle shake of her head more powerful than anything he could have said.
"You didn't do anything wrong. I overreacted. My uh… my mom… this is the first Christmas since she died. It wasn't too long after the new year that she passed. It's been… harder… than I expected. I had sort of hoped that Jenna and I would still do something, but Jenna said it was too hard. She just wanted to get away this year, not celebrate. And, um… well, you know what it's like looking out for your younger sibling. The second she told me that's what she needed, I knew that was the way this year was gonna go, but… it's still been a little rough. It's just been the three of us since my dad walked out. That's why Bobby invited me to come stay for a bit. We happened to be on a hunt together when Jenna and I had that conversation, and he didn't want me to be by myself. But, uh, that… that doesn't give me the excuse to treat you like crap. You didn't know, and I should have just told you. I'm sorry. It was stupid."
Dean felt like he'd been punched in the gut, especially when he noticed water pooling at the edges of Katrina's eyes. He may not have known her long, but he knew she wasn't a crier. He'd known her mom had died, but he hadn't realized when.
Without a second thought, Dean reached up and brushed a thumb over her cheekbone, cradling her face and keeping her from giving into that instinct he knew she had to look away. Neither of them were good with emotional vulnerability, but somehow that made it easier for him with her, and he was determined to try and give her that same outlet.
"That's not stupid, and you don't need to apologize. I'm so sorry, Kat. I wish I could say something that would make it better, but I've been there, and I know how much it sucks."
Katrina sniffed but nodded, still biting her lip.
"I know you do," she whispered. "And thanks, I appreciate that."
Dean smiled softly at her, and before he could second guess the gesture, he kissed the top of her head. When she leaned into it and wrapped an arm around his middle in a hug, Dean felt his breath catch in his throat, but he wasted no time in returning the embrace and holding her against him.
"No need to thank me, sweetheart. That's what friends are for."
He wasn't sure how long they stood like that, letting the snow fall over them while the world continued to quiet around them, but he savored every second of it, and for just a little bit the rest of his worries fell away. All that was left was him, and Kat, the stupid tree farm, and the damn snow… and he almost wished it could stay that way.
Of course, it couldn't, and all too soon the kid was back, with his manager trailing behind him, bringing reality with them. Katrina disentangled herself from him, a different kind of flush gracing her cheeks now. Dean spared her a small smile and squeezed her hand – gloved once again, of course – before backtracking to collect their tree.
Their lives may have been a mess, and Dean wasn't particularly happy about what the past year had brought him… but if there was one thing he was grateful for it was probably Katrina Black worming her way into his reluctant heart, and he couldn't help but wonder what the next year might bring.
