Katherine lets out a low moan, a little pained, as the heels of Dean's palms dig into her shoulders. "Ouch! Too hard!"

"You said go harder," he argues with a frown.

"Yeah, just don't dig into my freaking pressure points," she grumbles, gently moving her shoulders from his grasp.

"Stop being a brat," Dean retorts, tugging her back in place. She closes her eyes once more and winces. "Why do you have so many knots?"

Her eyes fly open and her jaw clenches. "Oh-ho-ho, I would love to see what kind of crap you'd invent after being kidnapped!" Dean pushes her head into the pillow. She snorts, a wide grin tugging at both sides of her mouth. Then cries out as his hands move to her spine, her shoulders and every other muscle in her body contracting.

"And I'm the baby?"

"Men in general are wusses," she states.

Dean ignores her. Instead, he focuses on the warmth of her pliable flesh, the hardness of it in other areas. His fingers against her ribs, her shoulders, arms and low back. He stares at the angry ligature marks around her throat, the red flesh from where the electrical cord chaffed, the blue and purple where the cord pressed. He's already fixed the clasps of her necklaces—used a pair of pliers and a bit of handiwork. It was done in three minutes.

After another minute or so, Dean releases her and stands up. He smirks, leans over again, and presses down hard on her spine, satisfied as the vertebrae crack underneath his palms. Katherine cries out in surprise, freezing.

"I hate you," she groans, curling up onto her knees.

"Well your back feels better, doesn't it?"

She frowns, sitting up a little, and looks like a distressed five year old. "You could've told me you were gonna throttle my spine," she grumbles, rolling her neck a bit.

"I can take care of that, too," he informs her.

"I don't trust you with my neck," she says, glowering up at him. "Hell, I don't trust myself with my neck. It's never been popped and it never will be."

"Really?" Dean asks, gawking. She shrugs. "Turn around."

"No!"

"Come on. I'm insulted, really, that you think I would kill you when I've gone through the trouble of saving your ass—"

"Accidents happen!"

"You're such a puss."

Katherine's jaw tightens and she turns around. Dean grins and sits behind her. "I swear—"

"Relax, I've done this a ton of times."

She releases a heavy sigh as Dean positions his hands at her left jaw and right side of her head. "Wait, to yourself or other women—" Then he twists, gently. Katherine's head is at about seventy degrees when she speaks, eyes bugging. "Dean—"

He presses his lips together, shooting her an annoyed look. "Katherine, relax—"

"I think you're gonna break my neck—"

"I'm not gonna—"

"Dean—"

"Straighten your back out—"

"What in the hell are you doing?" Sam asks, watching from the doorway of the connecting room. "Because it looks like you're trying to kill Katherine."

"Thank you, Sam—" Katherine begins. Dean sighs and quickly jerks his hands, tilting Katherine's head straight and to the side, and Katherine's neck cracks. She slowly gasps, and Dean moves his hands from her head in an almost surrendered gesture. She hilariously moves her head back into position by pushing on her temple. Then she whirls around and socks Dean in the shoulder. "No more chiropractic exercises!"

"Well doesn't your neck feel better?"

She crosses her arms. "That's not the point."

Dean crosses his arms. "So you don't trust me. I'm offended."

"Cry me a river. You don't trust your throat in my hands."

"You have little hands," he says with a shrug.

Her eyes blow wide. "You could suffocate me with three fingers if you tried!"

Sam clears his throat. "Caleb hasn't heard from Dad. Neither has Jefferson or Pastor Jim. Maybe we should call the feds and put in a missing persons report."

"Oh, no," Katherine says, looking a little strange. "No, no, no."

"Dad would be pissed if we put the feds on his tail," Dean agrees, shaking his head.

"I don't care anymore," Sam states, glancing between the two. "I mean, after everything that happened at home—" Katherine's phone starts ringing. "Dean, you said it yourself, he should've been there."

Katherine scoops her phone up from the nightstand and groans when it stops ringing. She tosses it down and puts her hands on her hips.

"Maybe he's dead already," Sam mutters.

Dean points to him. "Don't say that," he says. Katherine's phone trills once more and she gives it the death glare, scooping it up like lightning. "He's...he's..."

"What, hiding? Busy?"

Katherine flips her phone open and presses it to her ear. "Hello?" Nothing. She snarls and pulls away, but sees a text on the screen from an unknown number. She frowns, staring at the two numbers, the only thing in the text field.

42, -89

"What the hell?"

"What?" The brothers chorus.

She stares at the numbers a bit more. "Coordinates."

"From who?"

She stares at the message a bit more. "Well," she releases an uneasy chuckle. "One of our fathers." She moves for Sam's laptop and fires up Google and punches in the coordinates. Dean is hovering over her shoulder wordlessly as she works. Their brains are in the same general direction—she moves on to incident reports from the area: Rockford, Illinois. Meanwhile, Sam is still working on his soliloquy, flailing his arms and asking questions, huffing when no one answers.

"Sam, this is good news," Dean hums. "Someone's dad is alive."

"Was there even a number?"

"Nope," Katherine says. "But we've all been hit with coordinates before. I don't see why your father would text me coordinates, so..."

"Well that's even better news," Dean says. "Your Dad's still kickin'."

"Guys?" Sam asks. "Where do the coordinates point?"

"Rockford, Illinois," they answer. Katherine pushes Sam's laptop away from her and gestures for Sam to near the table. "This cop, Walter Kelly, came home from his shift, shot his wife, then blows his brains out. Earlier that night, he and his partner responded to a call at the Roosevelt Asylum." She wiggles her eyebrows with a small smile.

"I'm not following," Sam sighs.

Katherine deflates. "Well, when I was younger I remember my dad saying something about Rockford." She shrugs. "I mean, haven't you read your dad's journal?" She flails her arms and pushes herself up from the table. "He earmarked the place, too."

"What if they're together?" Dean asks. Katherine leans back against the wall with crossed arms, gnawing on her lower lip. "What if we'll meet up with them there, work the case with 'em?"

"Or someone's just sending us there to work by ourselves," Sam says.

"I didn't pin you as the cynical one," Katherine muses, cocking her head to the side.

"Well who cares if we're by ourselves?" Dean asks, rising to his feet, and moves for the bathroom. "If he wants us there, it's good enough for me."

"This doesn't strike you as weird?" Sam questions. "The texting, the coordinates?"

Katherine shrugs. "Sorry, Sam. I'm looking for my dad just as much as you're looking for yours." Her phone rings again, and Katherine practically hurdles over the bed for it. "Hello?" She breathes, landing on her side on the opposite bed. Then she sits up. "Whoa, what? Slow down." She rises to her feet, and her tone draws Dean out of the bathroom, both of the Winchesters peering at her with mirrored curious expressions. "Yeah, no, no, I got it, I got it. I'm going to the airport right now." She snaps her phone shut and looks to the brothers. "I have to leave."

"What?" Dean asks. He watches as she starts to scramble, pulling her hair up into a messy knot, fringe halfway included, and she gathers her things in her arms. "Katherine—slow down—"

"It's Sophia," she says, jamming her clothes into her backpack. "Uh...something—something—"

"Is she okay?"

"No. I mean yes." She stands up straight and puts her hands on her back, staring at the wall. "I don't know. Look, I just—I need to get to New Haven right now, but, uh...you guys go to Illinois."

"What—what if your dad's there?" Sam asks.

Katherine slowly shakes her head. "He's had enough chances, don't you think? Give him my regards, I guess."

Dean itches in his skin. The whole thing makes him uncomfortable. First the anonymous text, now the issue with the roommate. What if this was some setup? Something at work to rip them apart? What if something happens to her? "We can come with you."

"What?" She lets out a half-hearted chuckle. "Don't be stupid." She zips her bag up. "I'm getting a flight over there. Plus if you drove, it would take—"

"We can fly," Dean tells her, shaking his head.

Katherine stares at him for a moment, almost in awe. "Dean—"

"What if you get hurt?"

She almost smiles. "Dean, it's a plane ride to my best friend who needs my help. I'm gonna be—"

"I promised I would take care of you. I promised him I wouldn't let you out of my sight."

Katherine halts and turns on the balls of her feet. "What'd you just say?"

His heart hammers in his throat. Way to go. "I promised I'd protect you."

She stares at him for a few moments. Sam glances between the two. They both know something's up. For Dean, Katherine's gaze is beginning to become uncomfortable. He usually wouldn't think so. But her gaze is so intense, so silently imploring, that he almost buckles. It burns. And then she drops her eyes. "I'll be fine, Dean." Her voice is thick.

He wonders why.

"I'll call when I land," she continues, slinging her bags over her shoulders. "I'll call when I get home—hell, I'll even salt the doors and windows." She flashes the brothers a tight smile.

"We're taking you to the airport," Dean says, moving towards his bags.

"Dean, I can—"

"Katherine," he insists, raising his voice just a little bit. "Just let me take you to the airport."

After a moment, she nods once. "I'll be in the car." Her voice is just barely above a murmur. The second she's out of the door, Sam moves his feet.

"What was that?" He asks, gathering his bag.

"What?" Dean grunts.

"Whatever just happened," Sam says, glancing to his older brother. "Who did you promise?"

"About what?"

"Protecting her."

Dean's eyes flit over Sam's inquisitive expression. "Myself."

"Oh, so now you refer to yourself as 'him'?"

"Drop it, Sam."

He bites on his cheek. "Why did that feel a hell of a lot like a goodbye?" Sam quietly asks.

Dean swallows, zipping his bag shut. "I don't know."

It's a silent ride to the airport, Katherine's knee hopping in the passenger seat as she gazes out of the window. "Can you quit that?" Dean asks. "You're giving me hives."

"How inconsiderate of me," she hums. "I am a doctor. I could take a look at the rash."

"It's on my—"

"Shut up," Sam sighs from the backseat. Katherine smirks, facing forward with crossed arms.

"You don't even know what I was gonna say," Dean complains.

"I think I have an idea."

The hunters stare down the airport drop-off, sizing it up like it has teeth. The best way to tackle the situation.

Finally, Katherine throws off her seatbelt and moves for the back. Dean opens his door and follows her, opening up the trunk. She glances at him as she reaches forward to take her bags. "We could always come with you," Dean says. "Rockford can wait."

"Really, Dean, I'm just going to check on Sophia," Katherine tells him, slinging her first bag over her shoulder. "I'll be gone for a few days, not a few centuries." Then she smiles. "Afraid I'm sick of ya?"

"You know me, always so insecure," Dean says, flashing her a smile of his own as he rests his hand on the raised trunk of the Impala. She can tell it isn't genuine. She smiles again, though, setting her bags down, and leans forward, stretching up onto her toes. Dean tilts his head to the right, nuzzling against her cheek. For a moment, his own flares.

He thought she was going to kiss him.

And apparently, he was going to kiss her back.

He closes his eyes at the sensation of the drag of her full lips against his cheek, her warm breath on his neck as she sighs and wraps an arm around his waist. His arm moves around her shoulders, not bothering to disguise the strange display of affection. She's enjoying the tickle of his lips and nose against her cheek, almost at her hairline. The scent of laundry detergent from the wash she did yesterday. Her eyelashes flutter against his cheek in time with the butterflies in her stomach as he presses his lips to her temple, near her brow.

"I really do think this is my favorite shirt of yours," she hums, slipping back from his hold with a soft smile. It grows as she grips the unbuttoned length of it between her fingers, admiring him in gray and the berry red of his button-down. Her sparkling eyes lift up to his, and she's a bit surprised to see him quite so serious. The set brow, furrowed, imploring green eyes, the usual pout.

"Yeah, well," he murmurs. "Wore it just for you."

Katherine grins, dropping his shirt, and grabs her second bag. "Don't worry, Dean," she hums. "I'll be perfectly fine. I've got holy water, enough salt to cure at least a dozen people of hyponatremia, and enough Latin to exorcise a couple'a demons." She taps her temple--the one he kissed.

It was the first time his lips were on her skin. Even now, she's struggling to sear the sensation into the tissues of her brain.

"I'll call you when I land," she promises, backing away from him. He nods after a moment, moving to shut the trunk of the Impala. "You can still call me if you need any research done, y'know."

"'Course."

"Protect the precious cargo," she says, poking his chest with each word. "If I come back and Sam's hurt--well, you're gonna have hell to pay." She smiles a bit, squeezing his hand. "And you, of course. I guess you're precious cargo too." Dean nods once more, not trusting his voice, and watches as she trots into the airport, long legs clad in tight Levis. For just a moment, he pictures her button-down to be the color of berries and not a deep blue.

The color of his shirt.

It would look nice with her skin.

Dean sighs and lowers himself into the front seat of the Impala, where Sam now sits. Thank God he hadn't seen anything. "She'll be okay," Sam murmurs.

"Yeah, I know," Dean grumbles. "She's a Donovan. They're always all right, somehow."

✕

Katherine drums her fingertips against the waiting room chair, staring up at the tv screen.

Despite practically living in a hospital environment, this place sure does make her feel a whole lot more hyperactive than usual. Unable to sit still.

Jesus, how long has she been in there?

Finally, Sophia's blonde head pops around the corner. She's got nearly the same apparel as Katherine; jeans, mock-neck sweater, down vest, long coat, a scarf that keeps her idle hands busy as she waits.

Katherine pops to her feet, scooping her jacket up. "Yeah?"

Sophia nods after a moment. Katherine sighs, linking her arm with Sophia's, and leads her outside into the cold Connecticut air.

"I'm sorry," Sophia says at their apartment.

Katherine frowns, glancing up from the two mugs of hot chocolate. "For?"

"I know you were probably having fun with your family friends," Sophia murmurs, shaking her head as she twirls her scarf around her hands. "I just—I panicked, y'know? You're kind of the only person I can call who won't jump down my shit immediately."

Katherine lets out a soft chuckle, tossing the stirring spoon into the sink, and starts into the living room. She rests Sophia's mug between her cool palms. "Well, I think jumping down your shit is kind of the last thing you need right now." Sophia nods after a moment, and it's quiet for a few beats. Katherine traces the blue rim of her favorite mug with her index finger. "Do you know who the father is?"

"Yeah," Sophia whispers. Then she clears her throat. "It's Tony Flanders. We've been seeing each other pretty seriously...recently, anyway. I don't know how serious that's gonna be when he finds out."

"That's bullshit," Katherine says, shaking her head. "He's got just as much to do with this as you do."

"Yeah, well, how often does it work out like that anyway?"

Katherine sighs heavily, looking up to her best friend. "I could be the baby daddy," she jests. Sophia snorts after a moment, smiling as she shakes her head. "It's...well, it's up to you, Soph. You're still early enough...I mean, you don't have to tell him just yet...if you're deciding on something else."

Sophia's careful blue eyes lift to Katherine. "What, abortion?"

Katherine sighs. "I don't know. Yeah."

Sophia shakes her head, resting it back on the sofa. "I can't do that. I mean, I'm all for having the choice, but...now that I'm here...I just can't." Katherine watches Sophia's thumb rub against her lower belly. "She's mine, y'know?"

"She?" Katherine hums after a moment.

"Yeah. I think it's a she. The doctor couldn't tell because of the way she was resting, but I think it's a she."

Katherine snorts. "Sure thing," she says, twisting her mug in her hands. Sophia can see the anxiety in her expression. The lip-chewing, the furtive glances and intense stares.

"You can stop looking at me like that."

Katherine's brow shoots up, looking innocent enough to where Sophia knows Katherine knows she's trying to play it off. It's an adorably stupid attempt. "Looking at you? Like what? I'm not looking at you—"

"Like you're sorry for me."

Katherine's expression relaxes. "Well, I am, Soph. I mean, you're just now graduating—"

"Ah, save it," Sophia sighs, relaxing into the sofa as she shakes her head. "I got myself into this mess. No need for pity."

"It's not pity, Soph, it's empathy." Katherine sticks her tongue out at Sophia.

"Well I'll figure it out, so save the empathy," Sophia retorts. "Hell, I'm gonna be a kick ass mom."

"That's the spirit," Katherine weakly hums. A moment of silence. Then: "You want to keep it?"

Sophia nods without a moment's hesitation. "It's weird," she murmurs. "Like, the moment I found out...I just felt...close. Y'know?"

"No," Katherine hums, shaking her head, and Sophia chuckles as her friend smiles.

"Besides...four months is a little late for that, huh?" She says. "I just...it got really real. I woke up this morning and it's like it was suddenly just there."

"Oh, I know that feeling." She nods with a knowing smile tugging at her lips.

Sharing a bed with a man...you get to know a lot.

Sophia grins. "Oh, you've been pregnant before?"

"Food baby," Katherine says, nodding. "Usually goes away in a couple of hours." Sophia laughs, throwing her head back, and shakes her head.

"God," she sighs. "I've missed you, KD."

Katherine smiles a bit. "Yeah. I missed you too, Soph."

"So what's this road trip like?" Sophia questions, quickly moving over to the sofa. "You've been gone for months and all I get is 'it's good, Soph' with the occasional scream in the background."

"That would be the boys fighting," Katherine sighs, nodding.

Sophia glances up from her mug. "The boys? I thought you said they were family friends?"

"Oh, they are. Just not the old people you were probably thinking of," Katherine hums. She smiles after a moment. "Would you like to see them?"

"Very much so."

"Wait here." Katherine sets her mug down and hurries for her room, now in her socks, jeans and sweater. She slides into her room and rifles around in her bag for a moment before she plucks her journal from one of the duffles and snags the stack of Polaroids tucked into the front and back pockets.

Sophia watches her best friend come back into the main room with a wide grin, clutching wide Polaroid film. Katherine swings her legs over the back of the sofa and plops down before sweeping her hair to the side.

"Oh God," Sophia hums.

"What?" Katherine asks, still smiling.

"I haven't seen you look like that in ages," she mutters. "What's the deal?"

Katherine sits back on her legs and moves closer to Sophia. Then she extends one wide polaroid to Sophia. The other blonde carefully plucks the film from between Katherine's fingertips and stares down at the film.

S + D
Denver, CO
November 2005

Two young men who don't look much alike. One of them is quite tall, the other doesn't seem so much. The taller one seems younger in the face. The floppy dark hair, the big light eyes, the wide smile of bright white teeth. Parenthesis on either side of his mouth, similar to Katherine's. He looks tanned, even from the bright flash of the camera. He's wearing a tartan-patterned shirt, unbuttoned over a white t-shirt, and a pair of jeans that fade into the foreground of the photograph. He's the boy-next-door kind of beautiful. The best friend.

The smaller one is the jock of the school. Male model kind of beautiful. Though, Sophia supposes the other one could be a model, too. If there's any similarity between these two young men, it's their strikingly good looks. This one has lighter hair, almost blond, and cropped much shorter. Where the other man is smiling, this one is almost glowering. Or...smizing. Caught off guard. He wears a dark blue shirt, unbuttoned over a white t-shirt. He wears a necklace, the bronze charm indiscernible, and a watch on his left wrist.

"They have a thing for layers, huh?" Sophia hums.

"Sam," Katheirne says, tapping her finger against the taller one. "Dean." She touches the face of the smaller one. "Dean's the oldest and he's not as small as he looks." Sophia, her head still tilted towards the photograph, lifts her eyes and a brow in a suggestive manner. Katherine takes a moment to catch on. "Oh, come on," she mutters, snatching the photograph back, and Sophia giggles.

"Well they're definitely not the old great uncle and aunt I pictured," Sophia says. "Gosh. I'm all hot and bothered--"

"Sophia, that's gross."

"Well you can't tell me you aren't!" Sophia cries. "I mean, look at them."

"Yeah," Katherine scoffs, shaking her head. "I do. Every day."

"Okay, let me get one thing straight." Sophia sits up a bit, the bump on her belly becoming more prominent, and squares up to Katherine. "You have been on the road with these young men...for five months...and there's been nothing?"

Katherine shrugs after a moment, setting the photograph aside, and hands Sophia the next one.

Dean
November 2005

Dean. He's even more beautiful up close. His brow is furrowed in this one, the photograph taken much closer. Perhaps less than a foot away. Katherine always did that to annoy Sophia--got real close and blinded her with the flash. Dean's eyes show a frosted lily green, pupils contracted to pinpoints from the flash. He seems confused, but he's smiling, just a little bit. There's a pale blur at the edge of the frame. Katherine knows it's from where Dean put his hand up and pushed the camera away from his face.

"God, he's gorgeous," Sophia mutters, eyes scanning the photograph to take in every detail. The light smattering of freckles against his nose, spilling over to his cheeks. The humor in his eyes. Katherine plucks the photograph from Sophia when she notices drool at the corner of her mouth. "You never--"

"Nope," Katherine cuts in, popping the 'p'. She smiles down at the next photograph and shows it to Sophia.

S + D
Des Moines, IA
December 2005

"Burger eating contest," Katherine says, sliding the next picture to Sophia. This is when Dean acted like he was sick of the photography antics (he really loved them) and started wasting Katherine's film. Sophia giggles, looking at the photograph; Katherine is less than amused, glowering at the space above the crooked camera--Dean.

She's sitting on one side of the wooden booth by herself, holding a ketchup bottle.

"You're such a grump," Sophia hums.

"I don't like being on the other side of the lens," Katherine tells her.

"Well you look beautiful all the time, even with a mouthful of burger and guacamole coming between your lips."

"That was disgustingly descriptive."

"I've been meaning to tell you for a while that I'm in love with you," Sophia says, handing the photographs back to Katherine. The younger blonde rolls her eyes, smiling, and sifts through the photographs a bit more.

A few times did she turn the camera around to get one of her and the boys. Her favorite was taken on Dean's birthday.

Katherine hadn't known it was his birthday until he stumbled into the motel room just past ten AM after a night of heavy drinking. Katherine was with him for some time the night before and he found someone, went home with her. When he walked through the door and didn't smell like perfumed pillows, Sam wished Dean a modest 'happy birthday.'

So that night, Katherine brought back enough cupcakes with blue frosting to write the number 27, stuck a candle in each of them, and they celebrated.

This photograph was taken just after Sam shoved a cupcake onto Dean's nose. He still has frosting on it in this picture, and he's smiling. And Dean's wearing that berry shirt she loves so much.

The next photograph is one of the three of them, still smiling widely, but most of the blue frosting had been wiped from Dean's face.

A buzzer cuts through the port by the door. "Package for Sophia Rowe," a female voice says from the other side.

"I'll get it," Katherine says, setting the photographs down, and moves for the door. "Feel free to snoop through those." She winks and presses down on the white button. "Sophia's asleep, but I can grab it for her."

"Come on down, miss."

Katherine opens the door, slipping on her house slippers, and moves quickly down the hallway.

Sophia looks through the pictures. And looks and looks. The boys are the subject of the photographs for the most part. A few times had the camera been hijacked and the subject been Katherine herself. Smiling as she twirled her fork through a box of lo mein, dimples and long lashes and all.

In this picture, she and Dean are sitting at a motel room table together, plates of pizza slices before them. They're both laughing, unexpecting this photograph. Katherine is staring just above the photograph, hands moved to either side, her mouth open like she's in the middle of a laugh or a sentence. Dimples are long and deep, eyes are bright, fringe parted to the side with half of her hair pulled back and flowing down both shoulders in waves. There's a smear of marinara sauce at the corner of her mouth.

And though she's staring ahead, Dean is looking right at her, grinning, eyes tight. Sophia knows that look. That's how her father used to look at her mother. The fondness. The burn.

She knows that look well. And it makes her smile. Maybe Katherine's oblivious to it--she always is--or maybe she's hiding it. Keeping it a secret for a little while. But there's something there. Sophia wants to know what made them smile like that. Maybe Katherine cracked a joke.

K + D
Dallas, TX
February 14, 2006

Valentine's Day, huh? It's not in Katherine's handwriting, so Sophia wonders which young man wrote it. It could explain the dated convention of it—Katherine didn't write the day in the other ones.

Dean went to the nearest bar not long after Sam took the photograph. "Hopeless romantic," he said.

They were recalling that weekend at Bobby Singer's, in that beautifully candid photograph. The one where the Donovan children met the Winchester boys, perhaps where all of the strings in their universes tangled and headed straight. That meeting that sealed their fates together until the end.

Dean had pulled Katherine's braids a little too hard, so to get back at him, she put glitter in his shampoo. She poked a hole in the bottom of his shaving cream can, put small rocks underneath the insoles of his boots. They were laughing because of the glitter shampoo.

Sophia smiles, flipping to the next photograph, and gawks.

OK City, OK
March 2006

It's Katherine laid in that bed, that much is certain. The mess of wavy blonde hair is indicative, plus the long limbs tangled in her blanket. Her arm is tucked underneath her pillow and she rests on her stomach, one olive leg pulled up to her elbow and held close to her body over the rustled blanket she rests atop. Sophia can see the faintest hem of teal silk shorts and camisole strap on her freckled, tanned back. But still. This is an intimate photograph—the ruffle of the sheets on the vacant side of the bed are indicative of it.

What Sophia doesn't know is it's a revenge shot. Katherine had taunted the boys with a photograph after she woke up and found them tangled up in each other's limbs, an arm here and a leg there. So she took a picture and taped it up to the wall until the boys woke up, and then she stuffed it into her journal. So this was Dean's revenge, not that it was anything embarrassing or infuriating like the photograph she took. Sam always was a bed hog.

But Dean has a photograph just like this one stuffed into the deepest depths of his wallet.

Sophia squeals just as Katherine comes into the apartment with snow in her hair and a brown package in her arms. "What's got you so jazzed?" Katherine asks, setting the box on the counter.

"I knew it!" Sophia sits up on her knees and holds the photograph up. Katherine frowns and starts over to her, taking the polaroid from Sophia's fingers. Katherine's cheeks turn pink upon inspecting the picture. "Ha! Whadda liar! Which one is it?"

"I can explain this," Katherine says, flipping the photograph around. "For starters, I didn't even know this exists. Second, I have a picture of those brothers cuddling, so...this is obviously a revenge shot."

"Brothers," Sophia hums, raising a brow with a slight smile. "So...one for you and one for me?"

"Ha," Katherine dryly mutters, snatching the stack of polaroids from Sophia.