The one time Katherine was Sam's bed buddy, he had socked her in the face.

She cries out, cupping her jaw as she falls to the floor. It didn't even wake Dean. "Dude," Katherine grunts, pulling herself to her full height.

"Sorry," he breathes.

"You almost got your ass kicked," she mutters, grabbing her pillow and blanket. Sam shakes his head and Katherine slaps him on the back with her pillow.

"I'm sorry, Kat."

"I'll just go sleep with Princess for tonight," she murmurs, dragging her blanket behind her. "And start sleeping in the car." Dean pushes himself up a little at the commotion, turning his head over his shoulder with narrowed eyes, and watches Katherine move across the room in the darkness.

"Miss me?" He tiredly asks, dropping his head back to his pillow.

"Just don't punch me in the face," Katherine murmurs, tossing the motel pillow to the side. She replaces it with her own, drapes her blanket length-wise on the unoccupied side of the bed, and pulls her other one over her. Dean's heavy, bare arm instantly reaches over and drapes around the back of Katherine's shoulders. "You're suffocating me," she grunts.

"You're in my arm space."

Katherine rolls her back to shift his arm to her waist. She flops down onto her stomach with a heavy sigh, closes her eyes, and slowly drifts back to sleep.

Her jaw aches when she wakes again, face too hot from being too close to Dean's arm. They're both hotboxes. She pushes herself away from him and rolls onto her side with a furrowed brow. "Now I'm cold," Dean mutters, tucking his shoulder underneath the motel comforter. "How'd you end up over here?" He asks, having no recollection of a few hours earlier.

"What?" She grunts, eyes still closed.

"You bunked with Sam. Why'd you move?"

"Because Sam punched me in the face," she sighs, sitting up, and flexes her jaw.

She took a shower last night, so she doesn't have to wait to get dressed. She doesn't pay any mind to Dean as she dresses on the other side of the holey divider, and he doesn't try to look.

"I think I found something," she sings, prancing across the room. She's in much higher spirits, having eaten and actually woken up. She spins on the toes of her shoes and flops back-first onto the bed. Dean raises a brow at her from across the room. Sam is preoccupied with a stationery pad. "A string of animal deaths—cats, dogs, cattle—in Arizona." She looks to Dean with a grin and wiggles her eyebrows. "Chupacabra?"

"Are you sure those things are actually real?"

"Yes," Katherine says. "I told Sam about the one I ganked in Ciudad Juarez." She looks to Sam, propping herself up on her elbows. "Sam? Little help." He keeps on with the notepad. She grabs her pen from her hair and flings it at him. He jumps and looks over to her, then to Dean.

"Chupacabra, 1999," he says, looking back to his notepad.

Dean glowers. "You were thirteen. Maybe you were dreaming."

"Oh, whatever!" Katherine cries. "You're just jealous you haven't caught a chupacabra." She looks back to the ceiling with pursed lips. "So there's the possible chupacabra, and...oh. Dean found a guy in Sacramento. Dude shot himself in the head...three times. You know what I correlate with the number three? Demons." She tilts her head to look up at Sam. "Fishing boat turns up crewless on the coast of California?" She tries. No response from Sam. Her eyes narrow. "Dean and I are having sex in three—"

"I've seen this before."

"Wait, Sam, shut up," Dean says, waving his brother off, and turns to Katherine. "What? What were you saying?"

"Seen what?" Katherine asks, rolling onto her feet. Sam tosses her the stationery and she fumbles to catch it, gazing sourly at Sam as he rushes for the other side of the room. She stares down at the notepad and frowns. "A tree? I've seen lots of trees."

"You were getting to the fun part," Dean says to her, prompting her to continue with the forward motion of his hand. Katherine tosses the notepad sideways at him. It skids onto the table before him and stops right in front of him. She points at Dean with a raised brow.

"I'm magical."

Both hunters watch as Sam throws his father's journal onto the nearest bed and rifles through the contents of the front pocket. "I know where we have to go next," he says, moving for Dean, and Katherine follows.

Sam is holding a photograph of four people; two adults, a little boy, and a baby. She knows John Winchester's face, and though it's significantly younger in this photograph compared to the last she saw him in '95, it's him. And the little blond boy is Dean, the baby is Sam, and the blonde woman on the far left has to be Mary.

"This photo was taken in front of our old house, right?" Sam asks. "The house where Mom died." Katherine stares at the picture. She never knew what Mary looked like. In many ways, she reminds the teenager of her own mother. The gentle eyes and soft smile.

"Yeah," Dean answers.

"It didn't burn down completely...they had to rebuild it, right?"

"I guess so, yeah." Dean shrugs. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"This is gonna sound crazy," Sam warns, sitting at the table across from Dean. "But the people who live in our old house...I think they might be in danger."

"Why would you think that?" Katherine inquires. Her tone is gentle and curious.

"I just...look, you guys've gotta trust me on this, okay?" They watch as Sam rushes for his bags again.

"Can we get a little more than that?" The girl asks, watching him furiously shove his belongings into the canvas.

"I can't really explain it."

"Well tough," Dean says. "I'm not going anywhere until you do."

Sam lets out a short breath and faces Dean. His older brother prompts him to continue with a shoulder roll, head twitch, and hand gesture. "I have these nightmares," Sam begins.

"I've noticed."

"And sometimes they come true."

Dean rocks back onto his heels. "Come again?"

"Look, guys...I dreamt about Jessica's death days before it happened."

"Sam, people have weird dreams, man," Dean reasons. "I'm sure it's just a coincidence."

"And Katherine's...gift is just a coincidence?"

"Whoa, whoa," Katherine almost scoffs, raising a hand up at Sam. A gift?

"I dreamt about the blood dripping, her on the ceiling, the fire—everything. And I didn't do anything because I didn't believe it," Sam continues. "And now I'm dreaming about that tree, about our house, and some woman inside screaming for help. That's where it all started! This has to mean something, right?" He looks to both of the hunters for help. Dean gazes down at the photograph and shakes his head.

"I don't know."

"What do you mean you don't know, Dean?" Sam asks, moving quickly to the bed beside the table. "This woman could be in danger! This might be the thing that killed Mom and Jessica!"

"Just slow down, would you?" Dean snaps, moving away from the other two. "I mean, first you tell me you've got The Shining...and then you tell me I've got to go back home, especially when..."

"When what?"

"I swore to myself that I would never go back there." Dean stares down at the photograph.

"What if he's right?" Katherine asks. "What if...what if whatever's going on with Sam...what if it's like me?" Dean whirls around to glower at her, but he's unable to hold it. Her eyes are wider than usual. She's scared. But there's something else. "Like how I knew Sam was in trouble, what if he knows something's gonna happen there?" She gestures to the photograph. "Dean, I understand that you don't wanna go back—"

"No, you don't—!"

"More than you know, I do," she says, raising her voice from the gentle tone she used before. "I haven't been within fifty miles of Haley since my house was burned to the ground. So if you want to stay behind, Sam and I can go check it out."

"I'm coming with you."

✕

"Yes?"

The old Winchester home looks something similar to a farmhouse, painted mint green. A younger blonde woman answers the door. "Sorry to bother you ma'am," Katherine begins. "We're with the Federal—"

"I'm Sam Winchester," Sam interrupts. "This is my brother Dean and our friend Katherine. We used to live here." Katherine and Dean glance to each other and back to Sam. "We were just driving by and we were wondering if we could see the old place."

"That is so funny," the woman says, glancing between the brothers. "I think I found some of your photos the other night."

"You did?" Dean inquires.

"Come on in," she says, opening the door up wider for the hunters. Katherine enters first, followed by the brothers. The woman leads the hunters down the hall and into the kitchen. Moving boxes are stacked in the hallway, some pictures and other artwork already hanging up on the walls. In the kitchen, a little girl sits at the table and a toddler bounces in his pen, chanting "juice." Katherine smiles at him as his big eyes land on her, and a wide smile breaks out across his face. "That's Richie," his mother says. "He's kind of a juice junkie."

"That makes two of us," Katherine hums.

"At least he won't get scurvy." The teenager chuckles. Richie is appeased as his mother hands him a handled plastic cup. "Sari? This is Sam, Dean, and Katherine." The little girl looks to the three hunters and smiles. "They used to live here."

"Hi."

"Hey, Sari," Sam says.

"So you just moved in?" Katherine asks.

"Yeah, from Wichita. I'm Jenny, by the way."

"Do you have family here?" Dean asks her.

"No," Jenny says after a moment. "I just, uh...needed a fresh start, that's all. So, new town, new job—I mean, as soon as I find one—new house." She smiles, but it isn't a genuine one.

"How are you liking it so far?" Sam asks.

"Well, uh...all due respect to your childhood home—I mean, I'm sure you have lots of happy memories here—" Dean smiles awkwardly, and Katherine feels a bit of that second-hand. "—but this place has its issues."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, it's just getting old, y'know? Like the wiring? We've got flickering lights almost hourly."

"Oh, that's too bad," Dean says. "What else?"

"Uh...the sink's backed up. Rats in the basement..." Katherine's skin crawls. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to complain."

"No," Dean tells her, smiling and shaking his head. "Have you actually seen the rats or just heard the scratching?"

"Just the scratching, actually."

"Mom?" Sari murmurs. Jenny's attention is diverted and the three hunters exchange mirror expressions. "Ask them if it was here when they lived here." And just like that, they all have the same concerned features as they shift their attention to the little girl.

"What, Sari?"

"The thing in my closet," she answers.

"Oh, baby," Jenny chuckles. "There was nothing in their closets. Right?"

Her tone is loaded with lie, her eyes communicating the same, as Jenny turns to the hunters. The brothers shake their heads. "No, no, of course not."

"She had a nightmare the other night," Jenny explains.

"I wasn't dreaming," Sari insists. "It came into my bedroom and it was on fire."

Jenny sighs and pats her daughter's hair, turning to the hunters. "I, um..."

"We could just grab the pictures and get on our way," Sam tells her. Jenny nods and leads him down into the basement, and Dean and Katherine wait at the door.

"A figure on fire," she says as soon as the front door shuts, and the three book it to the Impala. "Dean?"

He shrugs. "I've never seen it before. Jenny was the woman in your dream?"

"Yeah," Sam answers. "And you heard what she was talking about—scratching, flickering lights! Both signs of a malevolent spirit!"

"Yeah, well, I'm just freaked out your weirdo visions are coming true."

"Forget about that!" Sam snaps. "The thing in the house—do you think that's the thing that killed Mom and Jessica?"

"I don't know."

"Has it come back or has it been there the whole time?!"

"Maybe it's something else all together," Dean says.

"Those people are in danger—!"

"Boys, let's settle down," Katherine cautions.

"We have to get them out of the house!"

"And we will," Dean tells Sam.

"No—right now!"

"How are we gonna do that?" Dean retorts. "You got a story she's gonna believe?!"

"Then what are we supposed to do?!"

"Let's just de-escalate a little bit, all right?" Katherine asks, wedging herself between the brothers. "My blood pressure is skyrocketing just listening to you two shout. Forget not, we're on an occupied street talking about freaky stuff." The brothers glance down the blacktop. "Yeah. So let's find a place to collect ourselves—like any other case." She leans against the side of the car. "We dig into the history, except we already know what happened here."

Sam looks to Dean. "How much do you remember?"

"About that night, you mean?" Sam nods, and Katherine looks down to her boots. She recalls the evening of her nightmare. She felt the blaze of her house fire on her skin, and when she woke, Dean was there to listen. He shared his story with her, too.

It's a guilty pit in her stomach that expands and swallows her up when she realizes Sam doesn't know what she does. Sam, Dean's own brother, doesn't know what happened the night of the fire. Hasn't heard Dean's account.

Dean shakes his head, jamming his hands into his jacket pockets. "Not much. I remember the fire. The heat." Images of her nightmare flit across her mind, and she flinches, recalling the feeling of the flame lick at her skin. "Then I carried you out of the front door." She looks from Dean to Sam, and back to the older brother.

"You did?" Sam asks.

"Yeah. What, you never knew that?"

Sam shakes his head. "No."

"Well...you know Dad's story as well as I do. Mom was on the ceiling...and whatever put her there, it was long gone by the time Dad found her."

"And he never had a theory about what did it?" Sam asks.

"If he did, he kept it to himself." Dean sits up on the hood of the car with his brother. "God knows we asked him enough times."

A few moments of silence pass. "If we're gonna figure out what's going on, we have to figure out what happened back then." The brothers look to Katherine.

"What?" She asks, sitting away from the car. "You think I know? I didn't even know you guys—hell, I wasn't even born."

"That gift of yours," Dean says. "The freaky I-know-something-bad-is-gonna-happen-before-it-does thing. Can it work backwards?"

She shrugs and shakes her head. "No?"

Dean slowly nods. "We're gonna have to figure this out like any other case. Talk to Dad's friends, neighbors from the time."

"And the gas tank is almost empty," Katherine tacks on. "So...we should get some gas before then."

The hunters found a motel to dump their stuff in. Dean left to go grab gas and food, and Katherine and Sam were researching. Rather, Sam was researching and Katherine was taping information up onto one of the motel room walls, singing Night Moves over and over again. Sam didn't mind it.

"What?" She asks, ripping a piece of Scotch tape from the roller.

"What, what?"

"You're smiling," she says.

Sam turns to look at her, stone-faced. "Is that a crime?"

Katherine grins, shifting her weight. "Well when people laugh to themselves, I tend to get a little concerned, but that's just me." She turns around and pastes an article about the house fire up on the wall.

"You just remind me of Dean a lot."

Katherine's brows knit together. "How?"

"Well for starters, you've been singing Bob Seger for the past thirty minutes."

Katherine's shoulders hitch defensively as she stands taller and indignantly, playfully, crosses her arms. "Do you not enjoy Night Moves?"

"No, no, it's fine. Just an observation, Kat."

The teenager smiles a bit and turns back to her wall. "What's he like?"

"Dean?" Sam shrugs. "You're around him all the time."

"I meant before I showed up. Was he any different?"

"Well, there was less dry humor in the room." Katherine chuckles. "But no. Not so different." A few moments of silence pass. "Do you want anything from the vending machine?"

"Dean should be back soon—" Katherine watches Sam rise to his full height and she presses her lips together, measuring him with her eyes. He's a growing boy. Needs the energy. "Never mind. Uh...if they've got apple juice."

"Apple juice," he muses with a growing smile. "How easy it is to please you."

"That's what I keep saying," she hums, shaking her head with a 'well whadda ya know' expression. Sam smiles and ducks out of the motel room, and Katherine turns back to her information web. Then the door opens again. "That was fast."

"I was gone for an hour." She glances over her shoulder at the sound of Dean's voice.

"Thought you were Sam," she says. Dean tosses two cheeseburgers her way.

"Whatcha workin' with?" Dean asks, crossing over to her.

"Sam's looking for your Dad's friends. I just finished going through the property records, found a couple of neighbors who are still around," she tells him. Dean stands at her side, appraising her work.

For the first time in a couple of weeks, she remembers what that shifter said back in St. Louis.

She glances to Dean out of the corner of her eye, slowly chewing on her food.

Take you somewhere no one would find you...tie you down...

He could've been lying, of course. But the way Dean reacted the night of the fire, how he was so ready to believe Katherine was at fault...what if he still thinks she's a monster? Keep your friends close, right?

"I found Mike Gunther," Katherine begins after a deep breath, turning her eyes back to the wall. "The guy you said used to own the garage with your Dad. I called around—the mechanic shop is closed now, but it'll open again around nine tomorrow." Dean nods.

"Hey, I noticed we went through all of the snacks, so I got more." He gestures to Katherine's blue backpack resting on the table.

"I was wondering where that thing went," she says. "Thanks."

"Yeah, well. Katherine crabby without snacky."

She snorts and he smiles. "You doin' all right?"

"I'm fine," he says, his expression sobering. "Why?"

Katherine shrugs. "You just seemed a little...disquieted today is all. I mean, it makes sense. You haven't been here since your Mom died." Dean raises a brow and she returns the expression with twice the sarcasm. "All I'm saying is you can talk to me if you ever need to. I'm not just another hunter, Dean. And you have your brother, too."

"Oh sure, sure." Dean moves to the bed and relaxes, crossing his ankles, and Katherine watches him curiously. "Well...where do I begin?" Katherine shifts her weight and rolls her eyes.

He's mocking her.

"Okay, you can stop," she says, shaking her head, and Dean watches her turn around and cross her arms. "Last time I express concern for you."

He frowns. "I was seriously about to bare my soul."

"No you weren't."

"You are such an adolescent."

"And you're a child," she retorts, glancing over her wall. Sam returns to the motel room then, an arm full of snacks and drinks.

"Sammy," Dean enthusiastically greets. He watches in amusement as he hands a bottle of apple juice to Katherine. "Two snack runs—score for you, Donovan."

"The more the merrier," she hums, unwrapping her second cheeseburger. "I'm gonna grab my own room. See you fellas in the morning."

"You sure?" Sam asks.

"Sam, I love you to death, but if I don't get a few hours away from you two screwballs, I might lose my mind." She flashes him a close-lipped smile, cheeseburger jammed into one cheek, and scoops her bags up. "Later," she says, opening the door up, and shuts it behind her. Her motel room is two down from the boys' room. Just as she's climbing out of the shower, there's a knock on her door. She changes into a tank top and shorts and opens the door halfway. At eye-level, there's a strong chin and a full mouth. Her eyes move a bit north to the bright green eyes. Dean stares down at her, eyebrows raised.

"You all right?"

"How'd you know where I was?" She asks.

"It's amazing what someone can find out when you throw some money into the pot," he tells her. Katherine rolls her eyes.

"You could've just called."

"Yeah, well, I had a feeling you wouldn't have answered. Now are you gonna let me in or are we gonna do this here?"

She carefully appraises him, her heart beating furiously in her throat. "Do what?" She cautiously asks.

"What's wrong with you?"

"Oh, I see," she hums, a smile tugging ever-so-subtley at the corner of her mouth. She leans against the doorframe and crosses her arms. "You're upset you don't have a bed buddy."

Dean frowns at her. "No I'm not. You kick."

"I don't kick."

"Well you're too hot." Her eyebrows shoot up. "You're a hot box."

"You're not exactly Frosty either." She nudges her door open and turns on the ball of her foot. "If you've come here to seduce me, get on with it."

"Ha," Dean dryly replies as she wiggles her eyebrows at him. "What's goin' on?"

"Nothing. I honestly just want a little time to myself, no offense." He shrugs. "I mean, I guess I thought you guys would want some boy time, since you're in a car with a chick for eight hours—if you decide to stop every once in a while, that is." Katherine hand's land on her hips. "Sue me for being considerate."

Considerate. Sure.

Dean's expression pulls into something of a wince. "Look, Katherine...that whole feeling-sharing thing..."

Katherine's brows shoot up. "Don't strain yourself."

"It's not me."

"Obviously. Glad we had this talk." Dean looks to her with a flat expression as she smiles. "Oh, come on. Seriously, you can't just get pissy when I say I'd like my own room every once in a while. Nothing has to be wrong for me to want some distance, y'know?"

Dean stares at her for a moment and lets out a heavy sigh. "Okay," he says. "Just...if you need something..."

She puts a hand up. "That whole feeling-sharing thing...it's not me."

"Dude."

"What?"

"Nothin'." Dean shakes his head and moves for the door. "You sure you don't want to talk? Yell?"

"What would I yell at you for?" Katherine asks with a shrug. "If you don't want to talk about something, I can't force you to."

Dean hesitates, and irritation spurs in Katherine's bones. She feels like he's trying to pick a fight just by not saying everything on his mind. Her brows shoot up and her hands plant on her hips, waiting for him to explode. But he doesn't. He just nods, fingertips awkwardly rubbing together, and turns on the toes of his boots to let himself out. Katherine releases a heavy huff and rolls her eyes with a little more muscle than necessary. She flips out the overhead light and sinks onto her blankets, most of the room enveloped in a soft glow.