Katherine shoves her toothbrush in her mouth and yanks the door open to vacate the bathroom.

Dean already did his business—he was up unusually late today—and woke Katherine up with his singing in the shower. 

Maybe the urge to see whatever future children she may have gave him a little hope. She didn't care what it was.

It was good to see him somewhat chipper again.

Sam is still snoring in the second bed. Then the alarm clock hits 7:30 and blares some tune Katherine's never heard before, but Dean's already rocking out, pulling his new boots on. Sam is sitting up in his bed, looking a little tired, a lot confused. Katherine leans against the wall, one arm tucked over her waist, as she glances between the brothers.

"Rise and shine, Sammy!"

"Dude," Sam says, rubbing his forehead. "Asia?"

"Come on—you love this song and you know it."

"Yeah. And if I ever hear it again, I'm gonna kill myself." Sam sighs and looks forward. Katherine offers him a small smile around her toothbrush.

Dean cranks the volume of the radio up. "What? Sorry, I can't hear you."

"Oh my God," Katherine mutters, then starts fumbling for her camera as Dean actually points at Sam and starts lip-syncing. He bops his head, careening across the room, and brushes past her into the bathroom. Katherine shakes her head, looking to Sam, and pulls her toothbrush out of her mouth. "How are you related?"

"I ask myself that question almost every day," Sam says, turning the radio down.

Sam and Dean share the bathroom as Katherine gets dressed in the room. Sam glowers at his brother after looking at his messy tube of toothpaste. The goop is everywhere, smeared along the top and inside the cap. "Dude, how are you this messy?" Dean just smiles and continues to gargle.

Katherine groans from outside. She's resting on her back and pulling at her pants. "Sam!" She shouts. "When are we going running again?! I can't put my damn pants on!"

"Do we need to do it like White Chicks?" Sam asks, poking his head out of the door. She groans. 

"No, I'm just really freaking bloated. Why did we all have to share the same cheeseburger last night? I can't do dairy right now, man, I turn into a balloon." She points to her gut, which really does look normal. She pinches a roll at her hip, glowering. "I'm wearing leggings today."

"I thought you were off your period."

"I'm still bloated." She pushes herself off of the bed. "And don't talk about my period so casually." Sam holds his hands up in surrender. 

It was a bicker-fest getting out of the door. Everyone's tired and hungry, but because their damn internal clocks are so messed up, they couldn't sleep longer. And because Dean said so.

"A weekend of partying with the Taylors," he said. "And...Chris and Sophia...should not impact what we're here to do. And that is work. It's Monday, bitches. Let's act like it."

Katherine's hangover demanded a bloody mary. 

There's an old guy leaving the diner as the three hunters push their way in. It's not very full—there are only two other people in there, actually.

Katherine slides into the booth first and Dean sits beside her, his arm over the bench. She rests her fingertips on her temples and stares down at the menu.

"Hey," he chirps. "Tuesday!"

"Don't remind me," Katherine grunts. 

"Pig 'n a poke."

She grimaces. "Wait, you just said it's Monday."

"Figure of speech. Our Monday, their Tuesday." Katherine grunts. Dean frowns at her. "What's wrong with Tuesdays?" he asks.

Katherine grimaces. "What?"

"Tuesdays. I said it was Tuesday and you said 'don't remind me.'"

"It's Monday Junior. Like people haven't fully adjusted to being back at work, so they're asshats and drive like idiots, and, I had toxicology on Tuesdays. I hate toxicology."

"Good thing you're not a doctor," Dean jests. She throws him a flat expression.

An older woman named Doris approaches them, seeming friendly enough with a smile, her pen and notepad already out. "You guys ready?" She asks. The brothers look to Katherine.

"I'm gonna do the chicken and waffles, a side of sausage links, a water and the bloodiest bloody mary. Please."

"Chicken and waffles?" Dean asks once everyone's ordered.

"Okay, there's this place in Haley—nobody will ever beat their chicken and waffles. We'll stop there on our way back through Jacksonville." She was itching to be home again.

"I didn't—I didn't even know that was a thing," he mutters.

"It's delicious," Katherine promises. "And you know what? This job is small-fry. We should be hunting Bela."

"I concur," Dean hums.

"You've said 'concur' ten times in the past three days," Sam says to him. "You can't use words just because you learned it from Charlie during Charades."

"I can so," Dean scoffs. 

"Well until we find anything about her," Sam hums, pulling a few papers from inside his jacket, and sets them on the table. "We have this."

"I don't think it's much," Katherine mutters.

Dean frowns, reaching for the articles. "What's going on?"

Sam and Katherine gape at him. "Do you tune us out on purpose when we explain cases?" Sam asks.

"No. You just have a voice that's easy to ignore."

"Thanks."

Dean flashes his brother a sarcastic smile. Katherine sighs, leaning back in the booth, and crosses her arms. "Dexter Hasselback was a professor traveling through last week when he disappeared. His daughter said he was on his way to visit the Broward County Mystery Spot."

"Where the laws of physics have no meaning," Dean hums, picking up a bright pamphlet. "Kat, you're from around here—"

"Not really."

"Is Broward buckets of crazy? I mean, more than Florida itself, which should be considered the US version of Australia, y'know...capital of weird?"

"Okay, just because we have a lot of criminal crackheads doesn't mean everything is weird," she says, raising a finger. "Two, I have never heard of this place. Ever."

Doris returns with a smile. "Two coffees, black, a water and a bloody mary...aaand some hot sauce for the—" Sam watches the platter sway and the hot sauce tips over and smashes on the ground. "Whoops. Crap--sorry." She flashes an apologetic smile to the hunters. Then she twists around and shouts, "Cleanup!"

Only two more people come into the little diner. They never did get another bottle of hot sauce.

"Dean, look at the dog."

"I'm looking at it. It's barking."

"He's just saying hello," Katherine hums, twisting around to gaze after the golden retriever with a fond smile. She faces forward again, hands tucked into her jacket pockets. "Anyway, joints like this are only tourist traps," she hums, nodding her head to the brochure in Sam's hands. "Ball rolling up the hill, furniture on the ceiling. Charlie thought so, too."

"The only danger's in your wallet," Dean hums in agreement.

"Okay, look," Sam sighs. "All I'm saying are there are spots in the world where holes open up and swallow people."

"Bermuda triangle?" Katherine chirps.

"Oregon vortex," Sam adds, nodding.

"Broward County Mystery Spot," she pronounces, and Sam gives her a flat look. "Oh, come on, it was funny."

"Sometimes these places are legit," Sam defends.

"All right, so if this place is real—" Dean raises a finger. "And that's a big-ass "if," what's the lore?"

"Well—" A woman hits Katherine in the shoulder, knocking her into Dean, throwing the taller, stockier man off balance.

"Excuse me," the blonde amends, and crushes down the street. She's carrying a stack of papers.

"Her papers jabbed my shoulder," Katherine mutters, blue eyes not quite as sharp as they could be.

"You've taken claws to skin, girl," Dean says, patting her back.

"You take a stack to the shoulder, I'll see if you won't complain." She rolls her shoulder forward and grimaces.

"Anyway," Sam sighs. "The lore is pretty friggin nuts. They say these places have magnetic fields that are so strong that they can bend space-time, sending victims to who knows where."

Dean shakes his head. "Sounds a little X Files to me."

"Well when hasn't our life been X Files?" Katherine mutters with a quirked brow, and casts her gaze to her left, where a moving crew of exactly two are trying to fit a desk through the narrow front door of an old storefront.

"I told you it wouldn't fit!"

"What do you want, a Pulitzer?!"

"All right," Sam mutters. "I'm not saying this is really happening, but if it is, we gotta check it out, see if we can do something."

Katherine slowly nods. "Whatever you say, Samantha."

"We'll go tonight after close," Dean agrees. "Give it a nice, long look."

"What do we do in the meantime?"

"I am taking a nap," Katherine says. "I don't care what you do."

✕

"This place is so fuckin' corny."

"Yeah," Dean scoffs.

The front room is painted neon green with black spirals. As Katherine moves through the hallway and turns around, she notices it does make a pretty gnarly optical illusion.

Dean's flashlight swings around the room before landing on the ceiling. The owner's glued an upside down table there, complete with an ashtray and a lamp.

"Wow," he dryly grunts. "Uncanny." Katherine smirks, switching on her EMF meter, and wanders around. After a few moments, Dean asks, "Find anything?"

"Nurp. Sam?"

"No." He frowns at another table, cocked sideways with a plate of roasted ham and a glass of wine. Sam taps the wine glass...there's real wine in there. 

Dean blinks at his brother. "Do you have any idea what you're looking for?" 

"Uh..." Sam shrugs. "Yeah." Katherine raises her brow and gives him a taunting smile. "No."

"What the hell are you doing here?" Booms from the silence around the hunters. Katherine turns around at the first sound, gun loaded and ready to shoot. Dean is the same, but Sam is only startled, whirling around like a deer in the headlights.

A man is standing at the end of the hallway with a double-barrel aimed right at Dean.

"Easy, easy!" Katherine says, holding her hands up, and Dean does the same, quickly telling him to calm down. "This is just a misunderstanding—"

The gun swings to Katherine. "You robbing me?"

"No one's robbing you," Katherine says. Her mind's eye reflects on the shark head on the wall, made of paper mâché and plastic, but her gaze is locked on the man with a receding hairline.

"Hey," Dean calls, wiggling his gun, and starts to lower it.

"Don't," the man warns. "Don't!"

"I'm just putting the gun down," Dean says, loud and clear. But the man squeezes the trigger, and Dean's on his back with a gaping hole in his chest.

There's a bit of shock at first. Like the guy didn't really just fire his shotgun and it really didn't hit Dean. But it did, and Katherine sees blood blooming over the middle of his shirt. 

"No!" Katherine shrieks. Shrieks.

"Dean!" Sam slides over to him on his knees. "KD?!"

Katherine runs her hand down her face, looking away from Dean to stare at who must be the owner. Sam knows without seeing her face, judging by the way the man went pale, how she must seem. "Call 911," she orders, and moves for Dean. "Sam, move."

The owner is still standing there. "I—I didn't mean—"

"Now!" She roars, and looks at Dean. "Sam." She starts tearing his shirt down the middle. "Sam."

"I'm here, I'm right here," he whispers. He's beside her, tears blurring his vision. His hands are shaking.

"Hold his hand." 

"Don't hold my hand," Dean slurs. Katherine clenches her jaw.

"Save it," she snarls, fingers prodding the area around Dean's wound. No one has to be a doctor to know this is bad, to see the physical deformity. One side of Dean's chest is sloped inward. Collapsing. The left side.

Sam doesn't know if it's his own tears or the dim light playing on the blood on her fingers, but he sees her hands trembling.

"We need that goddamn ambulance!" Katherine shouts, ripping her jacket off, and presses it into Dean's chest. Puts her whole weight into it. 

"Katherine," Sam whispers, looking to her face. Her eyes are hard, her jaw is taut. She doens't look at him. 

Dean coughs. "Kat—"

"No," she says, shaking her head, and looks at Dean with hard eyes. "No." His free hand slides towards her knee, curls around her thigh. "Don't look at me like that, Dean!" 

"Like what?"

"Like you're dying!"

"No." Sam shakes his head. "No, not like this." A mournful plea, eyes locked on Katherine. Do something. "Not...not a spell or...or anything?"

"I can't do anything," she says through gritted teeth, eyes finally leaving Dean's face. They're sad and hard, filled with tears. Dean's hand slips from her leg, and her eyes dart right back to him, forehead taut. "Dean?"

Sam sits on his butt, effectively getting out of the way. 

"Dean." With each call of his name, her voice gets more frantic. Sam can't stop looking at his brother's face. Ashen skin, pale lips, eyes staring at the ceiling, unseeing. 

This is some kind of joke. Dean's playing a sick joke on them. Right?

Asia's Heat of the Moment blares beside his head.

Sam flies up, heart thumping in his chest, sleep clouding his vision. He rubs his eyes and watches Katherine brush her teeth at the bathroom door. 

"Rise and shine, Sammy!" Dean hollers over the music, sitting on the bed beside him as he ties his boot laces.

Sam looks to Katherine. She has a funny look on her face as she looks between him and Dean. Then she smiles at him and turns back into the bathroom. 

Sam looks at the alarm clock with furrowed eyebrows. 7:30. He looks back to Dean. He's wearing the same t-shirt and blue button-down, jeans and those new boots Katherine picked up because Dean stepped on a nail at her house over the weekend and it pierced the very, very thin sole and she was very outraged that Dean let his shoes get so bad before he got another pair.

Sam blinks at his brother. His living, breathing, talking brother. 

"Dude," he chuckles. "Asia." Sam is still staring at Dean when he's done tying his shoes. "C'mon. You love this song and you know it." And then he turns the volume up and starts pointing at Sam and lipsyncing. 

"Oh my God." Katherine stumbles around to get her camera, but Dean is already bobbing his head and sliding to the bathroom. Katherine pulls her toothbrush from her mouth and looks at Sam. "Why do you look so..."

"Weird dream," Sam explains, getting up from the bed, and quickly moves to get dressed.

Dean is obnoxiously gargling his mouthwash again. Sam can't shake the dream he had. Dean nudges his brother and gestures for him to watch the bubbles he can make.

Again.

Sam swishes and spits before staring at his brother. So weird. Dean frowns and spews mouthwash into the sink, somehow not missing the bowl, or getting any on his shirt. 

"What?" Dean flatly asks.

Sam shakes his head. "I don't know."

Dean grabs Katherine's pink hair towel and blots his mouth with it. "You all right?"

"She's gonna kill you for that," Sam says.

"She'll never find out." Dean flashes Sam a broad smile. "So, uh...you just gonna keep lookin' at me, or..."

Sam chuckles. "Man, I had a weird ass dream."

Dean grins again. "Clowns or midgets?"

"Shut up."

Sam opens the door and Katherine is shoving her feet into her sneakers. "Dude," she grunts. "We need to go running more consistently. My pants are tight." She pulls at the waistband with a frown. 

The same old guy is leaving the diner as they're entering. 

"Drive safely, Mr. Pickett!"

"Yeah, yeah."

The same younger guy is sitting at the bar. "Can't stay unless you order somethin', Cal," Doris says. "You know the rules." So Cal gets one coffee, like he did in Sam's dream.

Is this...

Sam hasn't had a vision in months. This can't be related to Yellow Eyes, can it?

"Hey, Tuesday!" Dean enthuses as they sit in the booth.

"It's Tuesday?" Sam asks. Katherine looks at him oddly before looking at Dean, who's nodding.

"Pig 'n a poke," he says. Then he nudges Katherine. "Get you a bloody mary for that hangover, yeah?"

"I—I didn't say hangover, I said headache," she says.

"Same thing."

"Are y'all ready?" Doris asks, approaching the hunters with a smile, armed with her pen and notepad.

Katherine gets a water, a bloody mary, and hesitates on her food. "I'll have the special," she finally says. Dean gives her a high-five and orders the same thing. Sam was too puzzled to eat.

Dean frowns at him. "You all right?" He asks. "You're always starving right after you wake up."

"Yeah, fine."

"Well, you can have some of mine if you want," Katherine says, voice less energetic than usual. 

Sam clears his throat and nods. "Thanks, Kat."

She grunts and sits back in the booth, crossing her arms. "Still think we should be spending out time hunting down Bela."

"I concur," Dean hums. Sam watches Katherine's eyes snap to him, and she sits up before looking at Sam. Dean frowns at the both of them and snaps his fingers at Sam.

"You with us?"

Sam blinks. "What?"

"Are you sure you feel okay?" Dean asks.

Sam looks between Katherine and his brother. There's a keen awareness glittering in her dark blue eyes. "You guys don't...You don't remember any of this?"

"Remember what?" Dean asks. Katherine stays quiet.

"This," Sam replies. "Today. You don't feel like it's happened before?"

"You mean like deja vu?" Dean suggests.

"No," Sam huffs. "I mean like it's really happened before." He looks to Katherine, almost pleading. She's staring out of the window, thoughts far away from this conversation. Her eyes are narrowed, fixed at something outside. 

"Yeah. Like...deja vu."

"No, forget about deja vu!" Sam hisses, sitting up straight. "I'm asking you if it feels like we're living yesterday all over again!"

Dean looks to Katherine for help before taking a deep breath and looking at his brother again. "Okay, but how is that not like deja—"

"Don't!" Sam groans. "Don't say it! Just don't even—" He sighs, and Doris walks up with a coffee and two waters, and toppling hot sauce—

Sam catches it.

"Thanks!" Doris says, smiling, and places the bottle on the table before walking off a bit stunned.

Katherine's blue eyes are laser focused on Sam, breathing intensely enough that Sam can see her chest rise and fall a little faster than usual. 

Dean leans forward with furrowed brows. "Have you seen any spiders lately?" He asks. "Have you been bitten—"

"I'm not Spiderman," Sam says. "I knew that was going to happen."

"What, like the psychic thing?" Dean grumbles, less amused, as he leans back in the booth. Spiderman sounded more fun.

"No."

The same golden is barking outside. Katherine isn't enamored with the thing like she was yesterday.

"Okay, yesterday was Tuesday, right?" Sam asks.

"No, yesterday was Monday," Dean tells him.

"But today is Tuesday too!"

"God, you're totally imbalanced."

"So you don't believe me?" Sam asks. Katherine seems to stop all function as the same young woman in a pink jacket hits the corner of her stack of papers into the soft spot of her shoulder.

"Ah-ha-hoow," she winces.

"You've taken claws to skin, girl," Dean points out, patting her back in a 'get over it' kind of way. Katherine shoves him with a clenched jaw. "Look," he says to Sam. "All I'm saying is it's crazy, even for us, y'know? Dingo ate my baby crazy. Maybe it actually was that psychic premonition thing."

"No, no way." Sam quickly shakes his head. "Too vivid. Okay, look—we were at the mystery spot, and then..."

"And then what?" Katherine prompts.

Almost like she knows.

"And then I woke up."

Katherine glances to Dean.

"I told you it wouldn't fit!" 

"What do you want, a Pulitzer?"

Katherine and Sam stare at the two-man moving crew.

"Wait a minute!" Sam erupts. "The mystery spot! You think maybe it..." Dean raises his brows. "We gotta check it out." Dean huffs. "Just go with me on this."

"All right, all right. We'll go tonight after close, give it a nice, long look."

Sam starts and whirls to look at Dean like a deer in the headlights. "Wait, what? No."

"Why not?" Dean asks.

"Uh...let's just...go now. Right now. Business hours. Nice and crowded."

"My God, you're a freak."

"Dean."

"Okay! Whatever. We'll go now." Dean starts grumbling under his breath and roots around his jacket pocket for the car keys. Sam turns to look at Katherine.

"You look funny," he states. She frowns at him.

"You're acting funny."

"Yeah, so are you." They start walking after Dean, who's already in the middle of the crosswalk. "You know I'm right, and you aren't—"

Katherine's eyes blow wide and she sucks in a breath as a car flies through the stop sign and slams into Dean. Sam whirls around, watching his brother land face-first on the pavement. 

"Call 911," she says to Sam, and sprints for Dean. Sam fumbles for his phone, hands trembling, as he runs to catch up with her. "Dean, can you hear me?" She carefully turns him onto his back. "Hey, .make sure that car doesn't go anywhere!" She shouts at the standers-by. The old man from the diner, Mr. Pickett, turns his head out of the window. "Dean, it was a damn car!" She shouts, shaking him. He's already dead. "A car!"

And it starts all over again. Asia. Katherine brushing her teeth. Dean tying up his new boots. Messy toothpaste tube.

"Hey, Tuesday! Pig 'n a poke."

"Would you listen to me? Because I'm freaking out."

Katherine is staring at the table, quieter than last time. Doris approaches. "Are y'all ready?"

Sam speaks before Dean can. "They'll both take the special, he wants a side of bacon and a black coffee, she wants water, nothing for me, thanks."

Doris blinks. 

"Nothing for me, either," Katherine quietly says, shaking her head at Doris. 

"You got it," Doris murmurs, and slowly starts away.

"Sammy, I get all tingly when you take control like that," Dean says. 

"Quit screwing around!"

"Okay, okay," Dean says, patting his hand. "Katherine, you aren't hungry?" She shakes her head. "All right Sammy, so you think you're in a time loop." Sam nods, and Katherine keeps staring at the table. "Like Groundhog Day," Dean says.

Sam's eyes blow wide. "Yes! Yes, exactly like Groundhog Day," he says, relief flooding his system. But Dean only seems amused. 

"Uh-huh." 

Sam blinks at Dean, disbelief eroding at his relief. "So you don't believe me."

"It's just a little crazy," Dean sighs. "Even for us. Like, uh..."

"Dingo ate my baby crazy?" Katherine asks. Dean looks at her with a frown. Sam stops breathing.

"How did you know I was gonna say that?" Dean asks.

"Because you've said it before," Katherine murmurs.

"That's my whole point," Sam insists, palms flat on the table. He looks at Katherine. "You too?" She nods. "Well how come—"

Doris comes back. "Coffee, black, a water for the lady, and some hot sauce for—" Sam reaches out to catch the falling bottle of hot sauce and holds it up for Doris. "Thanks," she says, staring curiously at him as she lowers the bottle to the table.

Dean leans forward, brows furrowed and lips pursed as he's prepared to ask a question. "No radioactive spiders," Sam says. "I knew it was gonna happen."

"Okay, look," Dean hums. "I'm sure there's some kind of explanation--"

"You're just gonna have to go with me on this, all right? You owe me that much—"

"Calm down," Dean coaxes in a quiet voice.

"I can't calm down! I can't, all right, because—"

Dean shrugs. "What?"

"Because you die today," Katherine says.

Dean looks at her with furrowed brows and chuckles. "I'm not gonna die," Dean says. "Not today."

"You have," Katherine quietly says with an insistent nod. 

"Twice," Sam adds. "And KD and I couldn't do anything about it. And I can't—I won't do it again, okay? I can't watch Katherine try to save you anymore." Katherine looks out to the window again, hands stuffed into the pockets of her jacket. "You're just gonna have to believe us."

"Yeah," Dean murmurs, nodding. "Yeah, okay."

"So what are you thinking?" Katherine asks, completely ignoring the barking golden.

"Father Time?" Dean suggests, walking quickly behind Sam and Katherine.

"Didn't we kill that douchebag?" Katherine mutters. She dodges the woman with the stack of papers.

"I think it has something to do with the mystery spot," Sam says. "Maybe it's the real deal, y'know? The magnetic fields bending space-time or whatever."

The moving crew.

"So we'll go tonight after close," Dean suggests. "Get ourselves—"

"Ah-ah!" Katherine widens her eyes at Dean, quickly shaking her head, and Sam joins in. 

"Nononononono," Sam says.

"What, I die there?" Dean scoffs.

"Owner had a shotgun," Katherine tells him.

"Huh. Okay...let's go now." Dean starts forward again, and Katherine and Sam loop an arm each into Dean's at the sidewalk, where a green car barrels past them. 

"Get out of the way!" Mr. Pickett from the diner shouts. Dean laughs a bit in disbelief, but Sam and Katherine don't seem all that amused.

"Wait, did he..." Sam nods. "And?"

"And what?"

"Did it look cool, like in the movies?"

Katherine's face is about as flat as a sheet of paper. "You peed yourself."

Dean looks to Katherine with furrowed brows. "Peed?"

"Everyone defecates when they die," she flatly tells him, looking both ways before tugging him across the street. 

"They don't put that in the movies," Dean mumbles.

"No one wants to see that in the movies," Katherine retorts. "But that old bastard needs his license revoked. I mean seriously, there are age minimums, why not age maximums?"

"Then the entirety of Florida wouldn't need a highway system because everyone here is old," Dean points out. She shrugs, nodding in consideration.

"Good point."