"Dear God."

Katherine and Sam sag in frustration as Bela Talbot struts through the front door. With gritted teeth, Dean locks the door behind her.

"Are you actually squatting?" Bela demands. No one answers her. "Charming." She stops in the vacant living room and looks over Sam and Katherine with a smirk. When she still doesn't recieve an answer, she looks to Dean as he approaches her, sticking his gun in the holster at the back of his jeans. "That well, huh?"

"If you say 'I told you so,'" Dean lightly begins. "I swear to God, I'll start swingin'."

Bela sighs. "I think the four of us should have a good heart-to-heart," she says with a sweeping gaze.

"Okay, Tinman," Katherine mutters. "You first." Dean sits in a green velvet chair by the coffee table. Last night, he turned the cushion over to avoid the dust getting all over his clothes.

He doesn't even want his donut anymore.

When he looks up, Katherine is doing a low-energy rendition of the Tinman's dance. He barks out a laugh, and Sam hides his smile behind his hand. Bela scowls.

"Bite me," she snarls.

"I could contract some terrible disease," Katherine protests. 

Bela's gaze sweeps over elegant script on a rectangular piece of cardstock on the table amongst newspapers. Katherine clocks her before she even moves her fingers, and before Bela can swipe the save the date, Katherine sits on the edge of the table. Right on it.

She sighs and looks at the blonde huntress. "I'm sorry about what I said before," she says.

"I'm not."

"You don't believe in 'bury the hatchet', do you?" Bela hums.

"No." Katherine crosses her arms. "I sharpen them. The fuck do you want?"

"Everyone is so grouchy this morning," Bela protests. "I thought you might be happy. I've ID'd the ship." She unzips the portfolio in her grasp and lays out several documents. Dean picks up a dated photograph of a ship. "It's the Espirito Santo. A merchant sailing vessel...quite a colorful history. Kitty, please move your derriere." 

"I'll leave it where it is, thanks." Katherine twists to look at the photograph Dean set at her hip. 

"In 1859, a sailor was accused of treason. He was tried aboard ship in a kangaroo court and hanged. He was thirty-seven."

"Thirty-seven year cycle," Sam mutters.

Bela smiles. "Aren't you a sharp tack?" She starts flipping through the portfolio of documents. "There's a photo of him somewhere...Ah. Here." 

Dean frowns at it. "Isn't that the customer we saw last night?" He turns the photo around. Katherine tries to remember the face she saw in the darkness, but shrugs.

"I don't know...I was too far away."

"You saw him?" Bela demands, an odd sense of urgency in her voice.

"Well, yeah, that's him...except he's missing a hand."

"His right hand."

Dean frowns at her. "How'd you know that?"

"The sailor's body was cremated after cutting his hand."

"Hand of glory," Sam says.

"The hell's that?" Katherine asks, shaking her head.

Dean grins. "I think I got one of those at the end of my Thai massage," he says. Sam shakes his head. When he turns to his right, Katherine just blinks at him. His smile fades. 

"The right hand of a hanged man is an occult object," Sam says, taking the photograph from Dean. "It's very powerful."

"So they say," Bela hums. 

"None of this explains why the ghost is choosing these victims," Katherine points out.

"I'll tell you why," Bela says, standing up straight. Everyone looks to her. "Who cares? Find the hand, burn it, stop the bloody thing."

Katherine cocks her head. "Why're you telling us all this?" She asks. 

"Because I know exactly where the hand is."

"Then retrieve it," Katherine says. "And shove it."

"Doesn't hostility tire you?"

"Not even a little."

✕

"When this is all over, we should have angry sex."

Katherine pops her gum form the green velvet chair. Bela Talbot is leant against the table with a smirk, eyes the size of saucers as she drinks Dean in.

Dean. In a tux.

He crosses his arms and scoffs. "Don't objectify me."

She rolls her eyes. His tone is light. He's clearly enjoying the attention. Men are so simple.

"Don't wait up, Kitty," Bela calls, looping her arm with Dean's. 

"Wouldn't dream of it," Katherine drawls, popping her gum again as she turns her attention to her computer. 

She was wholly excluded from going to the Maritime Museum with them. Sam was Gert's plus one, Dean was Bela's. Invite-only. It wasn't that she was butthurt...but her inner control-freak needs a xanax. Or an orgasm. Or both.

Wouldn't that be somethin'?

Her phone rings underneath her leg. Charlie.

"Just what I needed," she chirps, putting the call on speaker. He chuckles on the other end.

"I wanted to call you right after you took off," he admits. His voice is gravelly. "So I sent an email instead in the hopes you wouldn't think I'm too clingly."

"Hmm, no, I got it immediately." He laughs with her. 

"You just wake up or somethin'?" She asks, looking to the clock. It's only seven. 

"No...think I'm getting sick. That or allergies. Everyone's got somethin' right now though."

"Sorry," Katherine says. "Wish I could make you some soup."

"That sounds good," Charlie sighs. "What are you up to?"

She hums, chewing on her gum a little harder. "Trying some meditation so I don't kill a bitch." 

"What do you mean?"

"An old nemesis."

"I thought all of your nemesises were demons..."

"Hmm, most of them," she nods and stares at the fireplace. It needs a new log. She sighs and gets to her feet. "Though...I suppose Bela Talbot could be considered one." Katherine puts another log on the cinders and sighs, grabbing the poker. There's silence. "Not actually, Charlie."

"Oh."

"Totally human."

"Oh. So regular people drama."

"Eh, kind of." She pokes at the log until it catches. "She stole a really dangerous artifact from my family. That's why I don't talk to them anymore."

"On your dad's side, right?"

"Yeah. You do listen when I speak." Charlie chuckles. "They're, uh...They're at some gala. I was singled out. It's fine...just doing all the digging on this bitch while I have time. I am going to destroy her."

"I can't tell if your nonchalance is something to admire or fear."

"Both, Charles." He laughs quietly again, and Katherine sits in her velvet chair. "Ya know, Sam's got this cougar Gert after him. Sounds like a real doll."

"Yeah?"

"Mhm." She blows a bubble in her gum.

"What are they doing at a gala? I thought y'all were hunting."

"Yeah, it's a ghost," she says. "But it's the ghost of a hanged pirate, so there's a lot of shit to wade through. Something about a right hand of a hanged man...I dunno. I finished all my cadaver labs so I'm not touching this one with a ten foot pole. That shit was disgusting." Charlie laughs. "I can handle surgery, ya know, but..."

"Who would've thought dead people would freak you out?" He muses.

Katherine hums, shaking her head. "Not so much the dead people, but the old severed limbs...I guess this hand is from the 1850s, so...I don't want to know what it looks like. At all."

"And that's why you're not mad you got excluded?"

"I'm disgruntled," Katherine admits, following a tab on her computer with her eyes.

"But more interested in total destruction of Bela Talbot."

Katherine grins. "Precisely. Oh, by the way, Sam wants in the wedding. He said a front row seat wouldn't suffice, so...we're gonna put him in a dress."

Charlie laughs. "He'd do that?"

"He would do anything for me, short of cold-blooded murder." She stops to think about it. "Well...maybe not. But I won't make him wear a dress." Katherine chews on her lip. "I really don't have anyone."

Charlie is quiet for a moment. "You've got lots of people here," he softly tells her. "Sophia, for one."

"Yeah, well, that's rocky," she sighs. 

"She's your best friend, Kit," Charlie gently reminds her.

"She's also kind of scheming, Charlie," Katherine passive aggressively reminds him. 

He sighs and nods. "Yeah, I get that. But we can't leave her out."

"Oh, we can," she mutters. "But we won't. Sam is still my maid of honor."

Charlie laughs. "You are completely entitled to that." He listens to her fingers on her keyboard for a few moments. "How did Dean take it?"

Katherine lets out a heavy sigh, forced to look in the dark corner of it all. "I...don't know. Probably not well. But when I handed Sam the invitation, Bela knocked on the door, so there wasn't a lot of time to discuss anything today."

"Other than Sam wearing a dress."

She nods as she speaks. "Other than Sam wearing a dress."

"Well, that Bobby guy's RSVP came back today. He's coming."

"Good," Katherine chirps. "I need to call him."

"You gonna have him walk you down the aisle?"

"Mhm." She pops her gum. It may have been thirty minutes later when her phone buzzes with another call, and she grunts. "Babe, Sam's calling—"

"Yeah, go, go."

She hangs up and accepts Sam's call. "Sam?"

"Kat," he hisses. "Kat?"

"Yeah, I'm here." She frowns. "Why are you whispering?"

"I'm in the men's bathroom," he quietly relays. "Gert won't quit touching me."

She laughs. "Sorry, I shouldn't laugh." Katherine clears her throat. "Um...how's it all going?"

"They're taking forever. It's been an hour and a half!" Katherine's eyes bug a little, and she looks to the clock on her computer. Sure as shit, it has. 

"Gee...I hadn't noticed. Is there, um...anything you can do to get Gert's paws offa ya?"

"Not without pissing her off!" Sam hisses. "She's touched my butt, like, three times."

"I mean, Sam." Katherine makes a face. "Your ass, is, like...impeccable."

"Katherine."

"I'm sorry." She rests her forehead in her palm. "I just...I understand where she's coming from."

"Not helping!"

"I know! Assault is assault. Can you...just...avoid her for a little while?"

Sam releases a heavy breath. "I can't stay in here forever."

Katherine nods. "You need to brave the onslaught."

"I can run from her."

"Your legs are definitely very long."

"I can't hide from her."

"I should've sent you off with a wig."

"Maybe if I get drunk enough..."

"Noooo! That is how we get a victim! We don't need SVU calling you, all right? We're already damaged enough." After a moment, Sam laughs. Then he gasps.

"I know what to do."

"Oh yeah?" 

"We're engaged."

Katherine frowns. "Sam, you were just complaining about the cougar touching you—"

"No, me and you! We're engaged!"

"I-Sam—"

"Thanks, bye!" She gets dial tone.

Katherine sighs and sends Dean a text. Hurry the fuck up. Sam's dying and now we're engaged. Then she calls Charlie back.

"Everything okay?" He asks.

"Eh, Sam might need a few years of therapy," she sighs. Within thirty seconds, she gets a photo text from Dean. Check it out "Jesus. How's he got the money for this?"

"Who?"

"Dean. He just texted me a picture."

Charlie scoffs. "High roller."

"I know. I'll send him the phone bill for this month, yeah?"

"Please."

Katherine gags when she sees the picture. "Oh God—"

"What—?!"

"It looks...it looks deep fried?! Oh, Charlie, please tell me you don't eat pork rinds."

"What?"

"This thing looks like a pork rind." She gags again and closes the picture. DISGUSTING!!!!! she shoots back.

LOL

She laughs in disbelief. "He said 'lol.' Dean knows what an 'lol' is. Charlie, you don't understand, he's like a grandpa with technology." Katherine heaves a heavy growl. 

"What?"

"This Bela bitch. I can't find shit on her. It's totally ruining my plan of total destruction."

"What were you expecting to find?" Charlie laughs quietly.

"I don't know," Katherine impatiently mutters. "Prison records so I could tip off former cell mates who hated her and they could kill her so I didn't have to." Silence. "A joke." Kind of. 

"Have you...killed people before?" Charlie asks. Katherine blinks at her phone.

"Not...people...humans..."

"Monsters."

"Monsters," she confirms. "You know I haven't ever lied to you, right?"

"No, I know," he murmurs. "Just..."

"Figuring out if you really want to marry me." He doesn't say anything. 

"Do you really want to marry me?"

She frowns at her phone. "Of course I do."

"Just because I asked—"

"You know I don't do things I don't want to do," she sings, looking back to her computer. 

Charlie could think of ten things within half a second she dug her heels into the dirt over. "I know. But you're also not mean."

"And I also don't like the idea of marriage in general, so...the fact that I want to marry you is saying something. Just wish I had more time."

"Well Heather said there was that opening at the ranch—"

"No, I know. One couple's misfourtune is our fortune. I think a winter wedding will be cool." She smiles. "I haven't been in snow in a long time...I hope it snows that day."  The front door swings right open, and Sam and Dean come stalking inside. "Oh...shit."

"I'm gonna kill her!" Dean roars. 

"The fuck was that?" Charlie asks. 

"Let me call you in a little while," Katherine murmurs. "Love you."

"Katherine—" She hangs up and drops her phone into her lap. 

"What happened?" Katherine asks, closing her laptop, and gets to her feet. 

"Bela stole the damn hand!" Dean snaps, yanking his tie off his neck, and throws it onto the table. "I can't believe she got another one over on us!"

"You," Sam coolly mutters, strolling past his brother. 

Dean turns, almost in disbelief. "What?"

Sam stops at the foot of the stairs. "Well...she got one over on you...not us."

There's a brief silence before Dean breaks it. "Thank you, Sam." Hard green eyes look to Katherine. She's still in her teal t-shirt and cozy jacket and yoga pants. There's no heat in this place, no electricity, and she seems to have scavenged all the candles and matches in this place and lit up the living room. 

"Take five?" She asks. Sam continues up the stairs. Dean huffs and plops onto the dusty sofa. "Oh...man, come on." Katherine covers her nose.

"I forgot," he sighs, plugging his nose, and moves away from the sofa. "Sorry, sorry." He leans against the opposite wall and shrugs out of his jacket. Katherine looks at the fireplace and pads over to it to replace the wood. Dean watches her. "So...you and Charlie picked a date?"

"Next month." Dean doesn't say anything. "I'm...I'm sorry, Dean. I don't know what to say right now."

"No, it's okay," he murmurs, looking at his shoes. "You gotta get on with it all, you know?"

"Can we not talk about the wedding right now?" She requests. "It's late, we're all tired, and you're angry."

"I'm not angry." He shakes his head, still looking at his shoes. "Well, I am, but...not about that. I stopped being angry about me and you, so...I'm trying to be happy for you. That's what nice people do, anyway." He chews on his cheek. "So you can talk about it. I want you to be happy."

"Seing you upset doesn't make me happy, Dean," she whispers. 

He cracks a small smile. "I'm always sad, darlin'." Dean lifts his eyes to her. She's still by the fireplace.

"What happened tonight?"

Dean sighs and fishes in his jacket pocket. He produces a ship in a bottle and walks over to her. "Bela stole the hand and replaced it with that. Found it in my jacket pocket when Sam and I got in the car." Despite being surrounded by dust, he can still smell the vanilla and jasmine and citrus that clings to her. He wants to lean into it, into the dizzying feeling he gets around her, but tries to respect gravity. Respect Charlie. "She probably had a buyer lined up the second he heard about it."

"Probably. Stupid bitch." Katherine hands the bottle back to him. Dean tries to ignore her fingers on his hand, and he winds up doing something stupid. 

He grabs it. Feels her hand in his, leans towards her. She doesn't move an inch. 

"I missed you," he whispers. His forehead rests on hers.

"Dean," she quietly returns. But she doesn't pull away. "Please...please don't make this harder for me." She sniffs. "I have to let you go." Finally, she does pull away from him, and she rubs at her nose. It's the dust. 

"Can I ask one thing?" 

"You already did."

"Don't be a smart ass," he mutters. "Can I...can I give you away?" Molten blue eyes snap to him. She doesn't know if the firelight makes him seem more desperate, more distressed, than he is. 

"No," she shakes her head. "No, Dean, you can't. I'm not yours to give away."

"I hope your night was way better than mine," Sam calls from the top of the stairs, descending in a t-shirt and a pair of sweats. His hair is mussed from—

"Did Gert get a hold of your hair?" Katherine asks.

Sam smoothes it with a panic-stricken face. "Is there a thing she didn't get a hold of?" Katherine's gaze darts to his groin, just for a second. He stops on the third stair with a hollow face. "There, too."

"Oh, buddy," she sighs. "Want a loofah?"

"I need three. And a silkwood shower, maybe. And Dean needs to pick up poker again. This squatting shit is shit." Sam plops down in Katherine's velvet chair. "Have fun tonight?"

"Talked to Charlie for most of it," she says. "Did some digging on Bela...thought extensively about all the ways I could kill her...debated if I should kill her or let the universe take care of it."

"Karma's a bitch," Sam sighs, resting his head on the seat back. "Hey, remember that ghoul wedding we crashed?"

She frowns at him, leaning against the wall. "Mhm."

"How come you couldn't do that for me tonight? I've got Gert-ies."

"Gert—" Katherine keels over in laughter before descending into a coughing fit. "Gert-ies?" She chokes out. 

Sam chuckles. "Jesus, KD." He rubs his face and sighs. "Why were you looking into Bela?"

"Remember the whole KD or Universe debate?" Katherine asks.

"Why can't you be the universe's iron fist of justice?" Dean wonders, sitting at the table. 

"Kind of goes against the whole 'no cold murder' policy I have for myself," she hums. "But maybe I can cut her hand off for stealing from me."

"Atta girl."

"I shot something over to Bobby to look into," she continues. "Should be getting back to me soon. Anyway...what did you find?"

"Well," Sam sighs. "Gert told me the townspeople are talking...they're saying the Warren brothers had a hand in their father's death."

"With that big inheritance?" Katherine scoffs. "Never." She sighs, drumming her fingers against the wall behind her. "What about Gert's granddaughter or whoever. Shiela. She know the Warrens?"

"Nope," Sam pronounces. "Shiela got into a car accident as a teenager. Killed her passenger." Katherine raises a brow. "Her cousin."

Slowly, Katherine nods and starts to pace in front of the fire. "One was murder," she says. "The other was manslaughter."

"Spirit could just be going after murderers," Sam says.

"Right, but like I said, one technically wasn't a murder."

"No, but it was a death caused by someone else."

Katherine turns on her heel to stare at the would-be lawyer. "Not just anyone," she hums. "Family."

Slowly, he nods. "Kinslaying."

"We need to look into that pirate."

✕

Dean had been telling stupid jokes for the past several hours to keep the rage from boiling over. It wan't working out that well, but he was distracted for a time. His latest, and probably the stupidest, went as follows:

"Hey, Sam? What's the difference between a pregnant lady and a lightbulb?" And when he received no indication that Sam was remotely interested in hearing the difference, Dean nudged him, and Sam huffed. 

"What is the difference, Dean?"

"You can unscrew a lightbulb."

Then Sam mockingly descended into a fit of outrageous laughter and knee-slapping. Dean didn't tell any more jokes after that. 

But it wasn't long after dawn when a frantic fist came beating on the door.

Katherine sighs, closing her laptop. She'd just finished reading Bobby's email for a third time and couldn't really revel in the joy of having one over Bela Talbot. "We're not squatting anymore," she decides. "No one can find us in a motel."

"Hello?" Bela shouts on the other side. "Can you open up?!"

"Can we pretend we're not home?" Katherine whispers as Sam comes to a stop beside her. Dean rushes for the door and yanks it wide open.

"Just let me explain," Bela pleads.

Katherine didn't know when the shift was, in her time with the Winchesters, that they actually became scary, among the best she knows. Was it while she was gone? Or did they come into their own overnight?

All she knows is, she once thought Dean was a little hokey, but he looks absolutely formidable. Maybe it's because when he's pissed off, she usually is, too, so she doesn't have an opportunity to appreciate just how angry he looks. But he's leant over Bela's chair as she sits down and tells the three hunters what happened. 

Katherine doesn't want to be in Bela's spot. Literally or figuratively.

"I sold it," Bela admits. "I had a buyer lined up as soon as I knew it existed." Dean looks at the other two. I told you so!

"Wouldn't have thought," Sam mutters.

Dean circles around the back of Bela's chair and imitates shooting her in the head. 

"So the whole reason for them going to the charity ball was...?" Katherine shrugs as she sits on the arm of the velvet chair.

"I needed a cover...they were convienient."

"If you sold it to a buyer, just go buy it back," she growls.

"It's halfway across the ocean," Bela states. "I can't get it back in time."

Katherine's brows furrow. "'In time'," she repeats. 

Sam, leant against the fireplace mantle, has the smallest of evil smirks. "In time for what?"

Bela exhales slowly, heavily, and glances to the blonde. "I saw the ship," she admits in annoyance. 

Bobby was right. After a few seconds of silence, Katherine busts out a laugh. Bela's glare is like knives thrown at Katherine.

"Just when my opinion of you couldn't get any lower," Dean scoffs. Bela, in utter confusion, turns to look at Dean as he comes up behind her. 

"What are you talking about?"

"We figured out the spirit's motive," Sam replies, reaching for a photograph on the table. "This is the captain of our ship. He hanged the ghost we're after."

"So?"

"They were brothers. Very Cain an Abel. So our spirit is going after a very specific kind of target." Sam crosses his arms. "People who have spilled their own family's blood."

Katherine tilts her head and raises a brow at Bela. "First there was Shiela, who killed her cousin in a car accident," she quietly says. "Then the Warren brothers...murdered their father for the inheritance. And now you."

"Oh, my God," Bela whispers.

"So who was it, Bela?" Dean asks. "Who'd you kill?"

"I have a guess," Katherine mutters, inspecting her manicured fingernails. 

"It's none of your business," Bela cooly states.

"Oh," Dean hums. "Right. Well...have a nice life. Whatever's left of it." Dean pats her on the shoulder and starts for the stairs. "Let's go, guys."

Bela stands up from her chair. "You can't just leave me here," the Brit says. The coolness of her voice is barely masking the growing hysteria, the desperation.

"Watch us," Katherine mutters.

"Please. I need your help."

Katherine takes two steps towards Bela, just shy of a foot in front of her. "While hearing you beg brings me...so much satisfaction...I don't think a couple of 'serial killers' are people you want to tango with."

"Okay, that was a bit harsh, I admit it, but that doesn't warrant a death sentence!"

"You know what death sentence I've been avoiding since I was seventeen?" Katherine whispers. "Because of you?" Bela's mouth puckers and she shifts her shoulders as Katherine leans closer. "You took the only family I had left away from me. They want to kill me because of what you did."

"Never mind," Bela seethes. "I'll just do what I've always done. Deal with it myself."

"You aren't striking any chords of sympathy here, Bela," Katherine callously says as Bela walks away. "You sold the only thing that can save your life."

"I'm aware." Bela snaps up her coat and starts for the door.

"Maybe not the only thing," Sam says. Katherine and Dean throw twin glares at him.

The disappointment, the frustration, Katherine felt was almost immediate. Bela deserved what was coming to her. Call it karma or whatever you want. It's how the world was supposed to work. You do bad things, bad things bite you in the ass. Hard. That's how her world worked, anyway. 

They wait until night falls again. Sam spent the day hunting down whatever he could to help save Bela. He didn't expect Katherine to help, but she was there in the graveyard with him, and Dean, and Bela. She even brought her iron bat.

"Do you really think this is going to work?" Bela asks.

"Hopefully not," Katherine mutters.

"Almost definitely not," Dean says.

Thunder cracks overhead, and cold wind slices through everyone's clothing. And then it's raining. Katherine lets out a low growl, pulling her hood over her head, and zips her jacket higher.

"Sammy," Dean calls over the wind. "Better start reading!"

Katherine refused her skilled Latin services, so it was up to Sam. He needed to work on execution, anyway. Both of the brothers did.

The wind and rain and thunder grow so loud that he is soon shouting over all of it. He kept looking to Katherine to see if he was saying the words right. She would give him a nod.

The spirit of the hanged man appeared just after the candles went out, which was soon after Sam started reading. It threw Dean into a neighboring memorial and just barely had time to touch Bela before Katherine swung her bat, but the damage had been done. Bela was choking on a continuous flow of water, supplied somewhere deep in her lungs.

The moment Sam finished the incantation, the rain and clouds cleared, and the night was silent. Like nothing had happened.

And, unfortunately, Bela was fine.

Katherine huffs, wiping her bat down with the dry material of her shirt.

She couldn't sleep. Her skin itched her her mind was busy with meaningless thoughts, a rambling of her subconscious. She didn't want to call Charlie, either, though he may be awake anyway. She decides to take everyone's laundry to a laundromat. Sam and Dean are awake when she comes back.

"Where'd you go?" Dean asks. 

"Couldn't sleep," she replies without meeting his gaze. "So...did some laundry." She drops their bags onto the floor. "And grabbed some breakfast." She holds up the bag of McDonald's. "Should probably hit the road soon, yeah? I need a shower."

The front door swings open again, and in walks Bela with her usual annoying smirk.

Katherine didn't even have it in her to roll her eyes.

"You hunters should learn to lock your doors," Bela remarks, strutting across the tile. "Anyone could just barge in."

"Anyone just did," Sam mutters. "Did you come to say goodbye or thank you?"

"I've come to settle affairs," Bela says, reaching into her bag. Katherine really scoffs his time, shaking her head. She tosses a stack of cash to Sam, moves to throw one to Katherine, then decides against it, and two to Dean. "One of those is for our dear Kitten. That's ten thousand—that should cover it." The hunters all turn to look at her in confusion. "I don't like being in anyone's debt."

"So ponying up ten grand is easier than a simple 'thank you'?" Dean asks. Bela doesn't answer. "You're so damaged."

"Takes one to know one," Bela hums. Katherine moves for the door and opens it wide. She clears her throat, leaning against it, and Bela turns to look at her before walking her way. "May I have a word?" Katherine crosses her arms and raises a brow. "Thank you...for never following through with your promise to kill me."

The huntress blinks at her. "You'll get what's coming to you, one day. Maybe it'll be me...maybe it won't. But for now, I can live knowing you are an even more awful person than I previously thought. You're a murderer, you're a liar, a thief. I know I can sleep at night."

"You really are a bitch."

Katherine winks. "Bye, now." She shuts the door after Bela and turns to the Winchesters with a furrowed brow. "We don't know where that money's been," she says, holding up a finger.

"Nope," Dean sighs. "But I know where it's going."

She shakes her head. "We're not going to Vegas."

"Oh, hell no."

Katherine crosses her arms. "We're not going to Atlantic City either."

Dean gives her a look of disbelief. "Oh, come on! We can play some roulette! Get you some honeymoon money, yeah?"

"No," Katherine flatly says, moving into the other room to gather the last of their food.

Dean sighs, turning to Sam, and shrugs. "We could always knock her out and leave her in the car," he says.

Sam chuckles, shaking his head. "You'd never."

"No, I know," Dean hums. "Hey, I've been thinking. I, uh...I understand why you went after the crossroads demon." Sam lets out a shaky sigh. "If the situation was reversed, I guess I'd have done the same thing. I'm not blind, though. I've...seen what you two have been going through with this whole deal. Me going away and all that. But you're gonna be okay." Those words twist at Katherine's lungs, and tears spring to her throat. She rests her forehead against the wall of the kitchen, not allowing herself the noise that accompanies crying. She wouldn't let them know. "As long as you two stick together...you're gonna be okay."

"You think so?" Sam quietly asks.

"Yeah, you'll keep hunting. Live your life. You're stronger than me. You are. You and KD, you're light years ahead of me. You'll get over it. You can go to Florida and finish school, have friends and family...But I want you to know I'm sorry—for putting you through all of this."

Sam shakes his head, eyes misty adn throat right. "Go screw yourself, Dean."

Dean frowns. "What?"

"We don't want an apology from you. Oh, and by the way, I'm a big boy now. I can take care of myself."

"Oh, excuse me."

"So quit worrying about me, all right?" Sam continues. They're still carrying their conversation in hushed tones without realizing Katherine can still hear every word of it. "That's the whole problem in the first place! I don't want you to worry about me, Dean! I want you to worry about you. I want you to give a shit that you're dying!" Sam's voice has escalated now, and both brothers glance to the kitchen to see if Katherine is peering around the corner.

She isn't.

She's walking back into the living room now with more determination than ever.

The next opportunity she gets, she's making a deal. Angels be damned.