"I'm going out."

"Can I come with?"

Dean spins on his heel, an unsure and amused smirk tugging at his lips as he looks at Katherine. Her hands are held behind her back, and she's dressed in her typically-casual ensemble of jeans and a camisole. A dark blue, black and white flannel is draped over the chair behind her, and her blonde hair tumbles in messy waves over one shoulder. "You want to come with me?" Katherine shrugs. "To a bar?"

"What, are you scared I'm gonna throw off your game, grandpa?"

Dean scowls. "I'm not old."

"Yeah, whatever. Don't worry, Sam, I'll look out for 'em." Katherine turns to Dean with a grin. "It's time I show you how much fun I can be."

Dean's smile returns once more. "I look forward to that."

"Can I drive?"

"Hell no."

Katherine sighs. "Fine. You're probably gonna be drunk later anyway." She steps outside, shielding her eyes from the sinking sun.

"Be back later, Sammy," Dean calls.

"Hey," he says, and Dean looks over to him. Sam's got that look...

"Oh, stop with the stray puppy dog face. I'll keep an eye on her." Sam doesn't seem all that convinced as Dean shuts the door behind him. "All right, kid—" Katherine sighs, and so does Dean. "Sorry. Force of habit." She turns her piercing blue eyes to him. "You bring a fake on this little road trip with you or do I have to back-alley it?"

"See, I never really...had any reason for a fake."

Dean carefully eyes her. "What?" She shrugs and he holds a hand up. "Wait, wait, wait. Are you saying you've never had a drink before?"

Katherine lets out a hysterical snort. "Come on, I'm not sheltered. Sophia and I have friends who work in bars." She shrugs. "There's this place we go to all the time, Ruth's—it's a country bar."

"Country bar, huh?" Dean muses, opening up the car door, and closes it behind him. "Have some cowboy fantasy I don't know about?"

She laughs. Dean puts the car into reverse and heads for the nearest dive. As they're just passing into the joint, Dean holding the door open for her, she lets out a yawn.

"Dude," he deadpans. Katherine's brow slowly furrows, her eyes looking over him in confusion.

"What?"

He shakes his head. "None of that. It's six o'clock."

"Well you know what, I'm not exactly used to this four-hours-of-sleep program you have running."

Dean moves towards the bar. "You want anything to eat?"

Katherine gives him a noncommittal shrug. "Whatever you're having." He nods and turns. "Ah, no onions."

Dean gawks. "No onions?" Katherine shrugs and turns on her heels, looking for a table in the already-packed area. Dean sighs and moves to the bar top. "Two beers and, uh...two bacon cheeseburgers. Everything, with onions."

Katherine holds her phone to her ear, an arm crossed over her chest as she listens to her father's voicemail. "Dad," she murmurs. "It's...me. Soph called, said you were looking for me. I'm with the Winchesters." She glances to Dean as he approaches the end of the bar and swiftly hangs up.

"What was that?"

"Nothing," Katherine tells him. "Nosy." Dean slides her beer across the bar top, and she takes it without protest. She stares at it thoughtfully, reflecting on her life and everything she's experienced. And yet... "You know, nobody's ever bought me a beer before."

Dean chuckles. "I'm honored to be deemed 'cradle robber.'" Katherine lets out a giggle, shaking her head. "First beer ever?"

"Nah." Katherine shakes her head.

"So you hunt and go to school. Or...did, anyway." She slowly nods. "I call BS."

Katherine snorts. "Okay."

"How'd you do it?"

"Well, it wasn't without my fair share of missing weeks of class at a time, but really, what is there to university besides outlined courses and pre-determined paper topics?" Katherine's brows shoot up.

"I wouldn't know."

"Right," she nods once and takes a hesitant sip.

"Tell me about it."

She sighs heavily. "In a word...tough."

"Tough?"

She nods. "Unless you have a three-oh-four IQ." Katherine grins. "The only 'tough' thing for me was trying to be normal. Guess it took me a while to figure out there ain't never gonna be 'normal' for me. Dad said it was about damn time, too," she sighs. "I'd like to say that...he wanted all of us to go to school, have somewhat of a normal life...but when I told him what I did...he didn't like it too much." Her blue eyes cautiously flit to Dean. "So, when you add genius to monster-hunting, dead family, drunk father hell-bent on revenge, you get a kid who's kinda messed up in the melon." Katherine shrugs a bit. "Then I met Sophia. We had the same room assignment when I transferred to Yale. Then we got an apartment together, got matching tramp stamps and we're blood sisters." Dean's brows shoot up and she grins. "It is your job to guess the truth."

"I'm going with the apartment."

Katherine nods. "We actually met during a tutoring session. She needed help with Latin, I happen to know Latin."

Dean smiles. "Funny how that works out."

"Funny," she agrees with a full, delicate smile of her own.

"Did you ever tell her?"

"About hunting?" Dean nods. "God, no. That'd only end horribly for her." Katherine thinks for a moment. "What about you? You ever tell someone?" Dean gazes curiously at her and she grins encouragingly. "Oh, come on."

"One person," Dean tells her. "One person who didn't really need to know."

Katherine nods. "So you liked the girl."

"How'd you know it was a girl?"

"Because most unnecessary male gut-spilling happens with women they care about," Katherine says. "It's a popular motif in cinematic and literary works." She shrugs. "What happened?"

Dean sighs. "She called me crazy and I never saw her again." Katherine nods slowly.

"Sorry," she says.

"Well you're not the one who slammed the door in my face."

"Doesn't mean I can't be sorry for you," Katherine says, and then frowns a little. "What happened to you to make you feel like you don't deserve empathy?"

Dean sighs. "Remember what I told you when I first picked you up?"

"Uh...too deep too quick?" Dean nods. "Right. Sorry, again." Katherine leans back in her barstool with a smile, both hands clasped around her brown bottle. "But, case in point, you spilled at least a teaspoon of guts."

"I spilled no amount of guts to you."

Katherine scoffs, her lopsided grin making an appearance. "I bet a hundred bucks you've never told Sam you gave up the big secret." Dean sighs. "Boo-yah!" He laughs after a moment. "What?"

"You," he says, shaking his head. Katherine smiles wider. "All right. You asked a personal question, I ask mine."

She frowns. "You didn't answer my personal question."

"That's how this is gonna go. Deal or no deal?" Katherine glowers. "Don't be such a sour kitty."

"Shut up. What do you want to know?"

"When I asked about a fiancé, you reacted particularly negatively. There a story?"

Katherine's gaze shifts to her bottle, demeanor shifting into something subdued and reclusive. "There's always a story."

"What's yours?"

"Which part? I gave you a summary of the first few installments."

"The part about the guy who ripped your heart out and stomped all over it until it was soup."

Katherine's eyes twinkle, and after a moment, she's laughing. "Ripped my heart out and stomped all over it until it was soup," she hums. She turns her head towards him. "Dean Winchester the poet." He smiles and Katherine sighs. "All right. Fine. Yes, there was a guy. I met him when I was seventeen...then, at a summer cookout at his parents' place a few months ago, he proposed." She shrugs a little. "I said yes."

"And then?"

Katherine smiles. "Usually, people I tell this story to would have exploded already. Engaged at nineteen?" She gasps, feigning shock. "Is it a boy or girl?" Dean smiles, and hers turns sad. "And then, a few days before you showed up, I stopped by his place to pick up one of my textbooks that I'd left. He wasn't answering his phone, so I knew something was up. I thought something had been wrong, like...in our way kind of wrong, you know?" Dean nods. "I found him with Hannah Greggory. Twenty-one and legal in all aspects of the word. Tall, brunette." She shrugs.

"He cheated on you?" Dean asks in disbelief, shifting his weight with squinted eyes. You serious? On you?

She smiles sadly, resting her chin in her hand. "Right under my nose. I guess the demon torture doesn't sound too bad now, what with the...squashed heart soup." Dean smiles. "But, uh...I guess I wasn't as grown up as I thought I was, and neither are all of the guys." Katherine shrugs. "It occurred to me then that despite my unusual accelerated progression through life, how I had no desire to do the things my peers were interested in...nineteen just isn't sound for marriage. I mean, for me, at least."

"Well, I'm glad you're back on the market." Katherine raises a brow, smiling a little. "You don't deserve a douche like that. I can kill him, if you want." She grins. "What was his name, Rick?"

Katherine giggles. "Nick," she corrects. Her eyes light up as two burgers are slid before Dean. Then she laughs again as Dean opens up one of the burgers and slides all of the onions off and into his basket. Then Dean smiles and nudges a burger over to her.

"Extra onions, free of charge," he hums. She giggles, shaking her head. "All right," Dean sighs after a few minutes. "I've gotta ask." Katherine turns to him with raised brows. "You kept the ring?"

"Oh." Katherine laughs. "No! No, I threw it at him. This—this one's one of my mom's." She holds up her right hand, and the light dances off of the small diamond.

Dean nods in appreciation. "Did you hit him?"

"Right in the forehead," she sings. Dean grins, watching her take a bite out of her food. His smile fades after a few long moments, though.

"Why did you so willingly come on the road with me?" he quietly asks. "And why did you stay? I mean, when I showed up, I half expected a nine year old girl to sass me out of the door, but instead I got a nineteen year old with a brain like the edge of a razor and the capability to pistol-whip me." Katherine laughs. "And there's no payoff for you."

"Well, it's the same payoff as any other case," Katherine tells him with a shrug. "I mean...knowing they're safe? Helping people? Donovans aren't just demon-haters, Dean," she says with a small chuckle. "And I'm still capable of sassing you out of any door." Dean smiles. "And I've never tried pistol-whipping, so if you know how...I'm a fast learner." She runs her tongue over her teeth and picks up her beer bottle. "Was I expecting to find your dad by now? Yeah, but we're not exactly missing persons investigators either. And I don't leave cases half-baked."

"I guess I just feel bad. Taking you away from your old life like that. You seemed like you...found a way out. At least a little bit."

"Dean, you and I...are far too deep to try any clean breaks from this life," she murmurs. "I still hunted in Connecticut. Mostly ghosts, but," the girl shrugs. "I hate Connecticut." Dean looks to her, puzzled. "Oh yeah. Ghosts are crawling everywhere." She places her hand out as the bartender swings around, and Dean watches, almost confused, as she smiles that damned crooked smile, all big and dimpled. "Could we get two more?" She asks, gesturing to her bottle. The bartender nods after a moment, a dopey smile on his face, and he turns around in search of the same labels. Dean keeps silent, watching the witchcraft until the very end, enthralled.

"You have got to teach me how to do that," he lowly mumbles.

"Do what?"

"The little dazzle thing you just did."

Katherine raises a brow at him from beside him at the bar, grinning—not the lethal one. "The dazzle thing?"

"Yeah, you know. Flash a smile, get whatever you want?"

"Sorry, Dean. Don't know what you're talking about."

"Yeah you do. It's like your superpower—you've got to have noticed it by now. Look at it too long and you wind up like that guy." Dean nods to the other side of the bar, where he's noticed some fly staring at the young woman beside him. Katherine's eyes flit back to Dean. "I'm convinced it could actually be classified as a WMD."

"Oh, I think he's looking at you." She laughs as Dean tenses, almost shrinking his frame.

Dean sighs. "All right, maybe you know you have a superpower, you're just unaware of the consequences. Like, seriously unaware," he says, risking a glance at the guy on the other side of the bar.

"Well does it work on you?"

"Huh?" Dean's head swings around, eyes wide as he appraises Katherine. Her eyebrows are knitted, blue eyes somehow bigger. Inquisitive. Dean's brows shoot up.

She smacks her lips. "I'm going to play pool."

"I'm coming." Dean snags his fresh bottle from the wood and follows Katherine to the other side of the bar.

✕

"Where's Dean?"

Katherine huffs, shutting the door. "Okay, one, going out with him two nights in a row is like saying hasta lavista to your liver." Sam grins. "Two, he thought he saw, uh...how did he put it?" She rubs her neck. "'The opportunity...for a nice night in the making.' So, I took my leave." She drops the Impala's keys on the table, which looked...right in her hand. Like they belonged. "Said if I get an SOS text, put my acting chops to good use. Besides, I got to drive, so." She shrugs, shoving her hands into her shorts pockets with a smile. "I got an expedition-supply of free milkshakes out of it. And, he said since the weather's nice, we could go to the beach tomorrow."

"Dean? At a beach?"

Katherine grins. "What can I say? I'm persuasive." Sam laughs softly.

"What do you mean about the milkshakes?"

"If I told you, I'd have to kill you." Katherine spins on her heel and flops back onto the bed with a smile, lacing her fingers together over her stomach. "But I guess since the only intimidating thing about you is your remarkable similarity to Paul Bunyan, I suppose I'll tell you." Sam grins.

"You're drunk."

"Tipsy. And don't worry—ain't nobody 'round these parts driving. Except that one girl, with Dean, but I'm not even sure if they made it to the parking lot."

"Gross."

"Hey, you weren't the one witnessing her blatant sex eyes." Katherine rolls onto her stomach and kicks her feet up into the air, props her chin in her hands. "I mean, I was right there, and she didn't seem to care." Sam nods slowly.

"The milkshakes?"

A moment of silence.

"Sam, why are we talking about her boobs?" Katherine whispers. "Or are you talking about my boobs? I mean, I pegged Dean as the low and dirty, but—"

"No, no," Sam laughs. "Uh...I meant the expedition-supply. What's that mean?"

"Oh. Uh...well, when Dean recruited me I said I would help, and I don't leave a job unfinished unless I'm dead. And unless I'm dead right now, I'm—" Katherine opens her eyes, frowning. Her big blue eyes are glassy. "This is a strange interpretation of Heaven. Talking to you about Dean having sex with another...milkshakes." Katherine sighs, resting her temple in her hand. After a few moments, she sits up with a surge of energy. "What've you been doing while we're out?" She stands up and ties her hair up into a messy half-fallen topknot.

"Looking for a case, mostly. Surprisingly, Charleston is clean."

Katherine snorts. "Puh-lease. The place is crawling with ghosts." She crosses over to Sam and plops down at the table, chin resting on her fist. A tight-lipped, crooked smile tugs at the corner of her mouth, and her glassy eyes close slowly.

Sam nods to her necklaces. "I always wondered about those."

"About what?"

"Your necklaces."

Katherine smiles a bit. "Wondered what, exactly?"

"How are they comfortable when you start sweating?" He asks. "And what are they?"

Katherine undoes one of the thin lengths of gold around her throat and stares at it for a moment with a fond smile. She hands it to Sam. It's a simple thing—a two-sided medallion. "Christopher and Michael," she says. "The patron saints of travelers and warriors. Then there's this." She lifts the longest chain from underneath her shirt—a crucifix.

Sam chuckles. "How very fitting."

"A little confirmation present," she chuckles. "The medallion was my mom's. She gave it to me when my dad first started taking me hunting." She sorts through her chains. "And then this one...I got when I was a kid. It's my birth flower, and then the one for October, but I don't know if she knew that." She shrugs. "Her birthday is in July."

Sam passes her medallion back to her. "Hey—when's your graduation?"

"The Ivy League is actually lame and doesn't have winter commencement, per say. It's, uh...what do they call it? A conferment of degree at the mid-year. So, commencement is the Monday before Memorial Day, and I don't have to be on campus anymore in five days. Not that I'm required to be there anyway, but still." Katherine leans back in her chair with a soft smile, crossing her arms and drawing her legs up to her chest. "Five days. Then there's another, oh...one hundred sixty-four." Sam smiles.

"So when all of this is said and done, we find our parents...what then?"

Her happy, fuzzy expression is replaced with something tired and small, eyes speaking the debate behind Sam's question. "What?"

"I mean what's next for you?"

Katherine's brows knit together and she sucks in a breath, sitting up to face him squarely. "I don't know," she answers honestly, folding her fingers together. "I...I'm good at what I do. Really good. I've been hunting for years now...I'm in med school..." She rubs her fingertips together. "Man, you ask the hard questions. Dean asks my favorite milkshake flavor and you want life answers." She smiles fondly at Sam. Or maybe it's the buzz in her eyes. Either way, she's the most friendly-looking he's ever seen the girl.

"Sorry."

"No, no. I guess it's time I figure this out anyway." She crosses her arms and clears her throat. "I don't know. I've seemed to do pretty well for myself so far, the way I have it...but I can't very well work like a doctor does and find time to get rid of all of the evil sons 'a bitches in the world. But when you put so much effort into being normal...so much time and effort...at what point do you start doing things for you?" Katherine looks to Sam curiously, seemingly on the verge of sleep. "And how do you choose between two things you like?"

"You enjoy hunting?"

"Fighting the good fight," she nods once. "I was raised to do it...it's in my blood. But then I have my mom on my shoulder." A sad smile tugs at the corner of her lips. "My mom says that I can get out now, that I'm not in it too deep."

"What's on the other shoulder?"

Her smile slowly falls.

"I'm too scared to look," she whispers. "I'm too scared to think about it, too scared that I'll choose the wrong thing. And I have a shot at being normal—well, as normal as a mega-genius gets. So either way, I guess I'm not ever gonna be normal. It's Katherine Donovan, Demon Slayer; or Katherine Donovan, Doctor of Osteopathic Medicine." Sam chuckles. "How do you choose between that? Both could be argued to do their share of good. I contribute nothing to the medical community but another vessel. And really, it's no secret that hunters have a midlife crisis around twenty." Sam grins with her. "So that's that. Die early and do a whole lot of good under the noses of unsuspecting people, or do good with a spotlight on you. I guess I can't have both. But that train's comin' fast, isn't it?" She whispers, running the tip of her finger along her knee.

"I don't think you're trying to choose between careers," Sam murmurs after a moment. "I think you're choosing between possibilities. Friends. Lifestyles." Katherine looks to him curiously. "On the one shoulder, the one with your mom...you have friends and a future family...a shot at a normal human life. And on that other shoulder, on the one you're afraid to look at...is a sad reality." She waits for him to continue, eyes wide like a child's, imploring him to continue without any shift in her facial expression. "It's lonely. Hunters don't get to marry and have kids and have that one place to call home. And if you do, it's a pretty skewed version of a life."

Katherine swallows, appraising Sam. "I guess I know what you would pick, if you were in my shoes."

Sam nods. "If...if Jess was still here, I'd be in Palo Alto right now."

Katherine looks down to her knees. "That's the thing, though," she murmurs. "I don't have someone like that. My family's dead. I haven't seen my dad in almost a year."

"I thought—"

"We talk, but I don't hunt with him anymore." She shakes her head, tears brimming at her eyes. "I didn't want to become that hunter. Not like him. But there's something about working outside of hunting that just...makes my skin crawl. It isn't right. Or something's not right." Katherine sniffs. "I don't come home to a smiling family, or a supportive and loving significant other. I have a girl I've known for three years. I cling to her like...like it'll change everything horrible that's happened to me, like she can keep me from drowning...but every time I look at her, I think of the possibility of some other kid winding up like me. Lost and wondering what in the hell they're doing." Katherine brushes her thumbs under her eyes. "I feel like a fraud sometimes. You know, like...like this is it for me. I can pretend to feel fine, I can...pretend that I fit in with everyone else, but I don't. And it hurts my head, Sam, it gives me whiplash, because I don't know what I want...and if I choose the wrong thing, I think it'll be too late."