"So you know who I am, huh?"

"Yeah," Katherine replies, her pitch rising a bit at the end of the word as she shrugs. "We're not impressed." She stands upright, prepared for anything—anything she would expect, anyway. She's not even sure a devil's trap can hold something as awful as Envy.

"Why are you here?" Sam asks. "What are you after?"

No answer.

"He asked you a question," Dean says, circling the perimeter of the devil's trap. "What do you want?"

Envy's blue eyes are bright with mischief as he glances between the hunters, their expressions ranging from blank to entirely pissed off. Katherine's expression is naturally a bit bitchier in the presence of demons.

He laughs a little, and Katherine pulls out that infamous squirt gun and squeezes the orange trigger.

Envy clicks his tongue. "I've heard of Katherine Louise and her twisted sense of humor," he says.

"I've got a Super Soaker in the trunk," she chirps, starting towards him. "You wanna get to talking, or should I bust that out?"

"We already have what we want," Envy snarls.

Dean's brow quirks. "What's that?" He asks with that classic "I'll kick your ass" smile, the reckless bravado he and Katherine seemed to share. A challenge with bared, sharp teeth.

"We're out." The demon glances to Katherine. "We're free. Thanks to you, my kind are everywhere. I am Legion, for we are many—"

"Don't you quote the bible to me, you bastard," she says through her teeth.

"I'm just celebrating," Envy whispers to her, glossy eyes dancing over her features. "Having a little fun."

"Fun?" Sam repeats.

"Yeah—fun. See, some people crochet, others golf...your friend here likes to break out this squirt gun." Envy shrugs. "But me," the demon continues says, smiling a bit. "I like to see people's insides on their outside."

Tamara takes one step inside the devil's trap. "I'm gonna put you down like a dog," she threatens.

"Please," Envy scoffs, then laughs. "You really think you all are better than me?"

"Our grammar is," Katherine says. Then she shrugs. "Usually."

"Which one of you can cast the first stone, huh?" Envy questions, sitting up straighter. Another biblical reference. "What about you, Dean? You're practically a walking billboard for gluttony and lust! And our two favorite girls," he continues, sharp blue eyes flitting to Tamara and Katherine. "All that wrath—oh, tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk. It's the reason you and Isaac became hunters, isn't it, Tamara? It's so much easier to drink in the rage than to face what really happened all those years ago."

Tamara backhands the demon. Before she can swing again, Katherine pulls Tamara out of the devil's trap.

"Woo!" Envy flexes his jaw and laughs. "My point exactly! And you call us sins. We're not sins, man! We are natural human instinct," he pronounces. "And you can repress and deny us all you want, but the truth is, you all are just animals. Horny, greedy, hungry—" he scoffs. "Violent animals. And you know what? You'll all be slaughtered like animals, too."

"I wouldn't bet on that," Katherine hums.

"The others," Envy says. "They're coming for me." He leans back in his chair with confidence. The demon never really struggled, now that Katherine thinks about it.

If the six other sins are coming, would the five of them be able to hold up against them? That's at least one demon per person. She and her father have faced worse odds. But the sins...

"I don't think so," Dean says. "'Cause you'll be in Hell." Envy's smirk fades, and Dean begins to circle the devil's trap. "Someone send this clown packing."

Tamara volunteers before Katherine does. It's right, anyway. "My pleasure," the Brit says. Bobby hands an old, thick book over, and nods the other young hunters to the other room. Dean files behind Katherine.

"If the other sins sniff around here, they'll find Envy in a hot minute," Katherine murmurs.

Bobby nods in agreement. "They're gonna be hunting us. And they're not gonna quit easy."

"Who knows if they already know where we are?" Katherine hums, gently pulling at her lower lip as she gazes off at the other wall, the cogs in her mind turning. Dean glances over her. The strappy deep red tank top, leather jacket over it. Her fringe is a mess, ruffled from running her hands through her hair so many times.

"Why don't you guys take Tamara and head for the hills?" He suggests. When Katherine looks over at him, her fingers dropping from her lip, Dean reaches over and adjusts her splayed fringe in a brief swipe. It sends a panic through Katherine's body, electrifying her muscles, pumping adrenaline through her veins. It could almost be taken as a lighthearted goodbye gesture. And it's practically confirmed with why Dean says next.

"I'll stay back, slow 'em down, give you a little time."

"You're insane," she deadpans, heart thumping in her chest, pulse thickening in her neck.

"Forget about it," Sam agrees.

Dean glances between the three before him. "There's six of them. We're outmanned, we're outgunned...we'll be dead before dawn."

"Maybe," Bobby starts. "But there's no place we can run that they won't find us."

"And if we're going down, we're going guns-a-blazin'," Katherine chimes. "Together—right?" She glances between the Winchesters with raised brows and intense eyes.

Dean lets out a sigh, shifting his weight to his left leg as he stares over the fiercely determined features of the young woman to his right. The lighting is dim, highlighting the arches of her brows and cheekbones, darkening the valleys of her cheeks and jaw. The freckles on the left side of her throat are hidden in those shadows.

This could be the last time he sees her.

"You're not gonna let this go, are you?"

Katherine responds by pulling the thick length of her wavy hair into a haphazard ponytail at the crown of her head. As soon as the elastic snaps against her hair, the candle flames on a neighboring end table are extinguished.

There's silence for a brief moment, until Tamara's heeled boots clack against the floorboards and she appears beside Sam. "Demon's out of the guy," she says, passing the hunters by. They all frown.

"And the guy?" Sam asks.

"He didn't make it." Something about Tamara's tone tells Katherine that the older woman isn't all that bothered. "If they're coming, we need to stock up." With that, the blonde follows Tamara into the other room.

They all load up on holy water and salt, draw devil's traps.

"How many demons have you taken on before?" Dean asks, nudging a few shells into his shotgun.

Katherine shrugs out of her leather jacket and rests it on the back of the chair. "By myself?" Dean shrugs. "Four."

"Four," he repeats. "Seriously?" Katherine nods.

"With my dad, we'd have as many as seven."

"How come I haven't come across so many demons?" Dean asks.

She smiles and shrugs. "Maybe they're not attracted to you the way they are me."

"Are you saying I'm not as pretty as you are?"

Katherine releases a breathy chuckle. "I'm saying demons probably don't hate you as much as they hate me," she murmurs, starting over to the bathtub, and turns the faucet on.

"Yeah," Dean hums. "Donovans are, like, torture experts or somethin'. Right."

"I prefer enhanced interrogation specialist," she cheekily retorts. Dean rests his forehead to the back of her head, nose pressed into her orange and vanilla scented hair. Her skin is warm and smells of ginger and bergamot. Katherine twists around and winds her arms around his neck, almost stretching up onto her toes. His arms pull her closer to him and he lifts her up an inch or so. She sighs into his neck as he squeezes her and tries not to cry. 

He rests his chin on her shoulder and watches the bathtub fill.

"Are you getting in that?" He murmurs.

Katherine snorts. "That's a demon bath. Hopefully, I'll have enough time to bless it before the Sins show up."

"I'll hold 'em off for ya."

"My hero," she hums. They stay like that for a few minutes more, her arms locked around his neck, his caging her ribs. Their hearts beat in synchronization, their lungs expand and contact in synchronization.

Dean finds himself wishing he wasn't so stupid.

Quiet moments like this, with Dean, had always been Katherine's favorite, but it would be selfish of her to absorb his attention like this in the eleventh hour. "Why don't you go help Sam out?" She softly suggests. "I've got it covered up here."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. 'S greenhorn work." Dean nods. "We'll be all right," she murmurs. It's the truth. It's the only explanation. She can feel it in her bones, and it radiates in a strange warmth through Dean's fingertips. He nods, and his mouth parts for him to speak. But the words don't come. They're stuck in his throat, his thought process halted with it, as he stares at the wide blue eyes before him.

"I know," she murmurs. Gently, she nudges his shoulder from her. He sways with the most drunken smile on his face, eyes twinkling with mischief and delight.

No impending doom here.

"Go be with your brother," she says. She can practically feel him freaking out from all the way across the house. "He's having a meltdown."

"Sounds like Sam," Dean hums. With one last glance, he smiles briefly before breaking for the door. Katherine watches him disappear down the hall and she turns back to the bathtub, kneeling beside it until the water reaches her preferred depth. She holds her rosary above the clear water and begins to bless it.

Just as she drops the rosary in, she hears the radio turn on in the living area, playing an old blues tune.

Katherine grips her shotgun by the pump. "Here we go!" She hollers, jerking on the pump to cock the gun. That one action is a lot harder than the movies make it out to be.

I shall not be moved, I shall not be, I shall not be moved, Johnny Cash sings. It's a bit of a nostalgic tune for Katherine. Her mother would play all sorts of songs in that old two-seater '63 pickup she drove. Katherine remembers sitting in the passenger seat as a little girl and watching the wind blow through her mother's hair, her aviators just barely hanging onto the freckled bridge of her nose, and Ring of Fire was playing.

Her mother loved Johnny Cash.

Katherine peers between the boards of the window, cautious eyes scanning the dark lawn for any movement. The trees block her line of sight.

"Tamara!" A voice shouts. It's not a shout, though, it's...it's the cry of a wounded animal.

It's Isaac.

Bewildered, Katherine launches herself towards the hallway. Dean tilts his head to the left, tracking her movements through the noise of her trusty leather-soled boots. She treads down the hallway and swings around the corner, nudging between the Winchesters to stare out at the grass. "Tamara!"

"Is he still alive?" Dean asks.

Katherine shakes her head. "No way," she mutters. "I found him lying in his own blood. That's not Isaac. Where is Tamara?"

"Bobby's with her in the other room," Sam quietly answers.

"Help me! Please!"

Isaac's voice grows closer, louder. The hunters' muscles are trembling with adrenaline now. Funny how they're all still terrific shots.

Staring down at her twitching fingers, Katherine wonders what it was like for Dean to pull the trigger, knowing full well his bullet wasn't going to miss her. It would burrow right into her heart, severing pericardium and heartstrings. So final. Katherine wonders if she would ever have the strength to do that. But then, was it really strength? It must've been. Even with that thing he'd been tailing since he was four years old inside her.

"Tamara!" Isaac is on the stairs. "I got away, but I'm hurt bad!" Katherine's careful eyes are kept on the doorway covering the foyer, waiting for Tamara to burst outside to rescue her husband. She hopes Bobby is keeping a good hand on her. "Baby!" Isaac bangs his fist on the door.

"You sure it's not him?" Sam whispers. Katherine nods.

"Why won't you let me in? You left me behind back there! How could you do that? We swore at that lake in Michigan, remember?"

Isaac's voice falls far too quiet for Katherine or either of the Winchesters to hear, but the next thing any of them know, Tamara bursts through the boarded front door with a, "You son of a bitch!" and tackles Isaac out into the lawn. They watch from behind the slits in the boards as Tamara stakes Isaac with the palo santo.

There are several other figures coming up the lawn.

"Damn it," Katherine mutters. She pushes past Sam, moving towards the stairs, but Sam catches her wrist.

"You stay with Dean," he says. After a moment, she nods, and Sam breaks for the staircase just as the door flies open. Katherine shoves Dean down the hallway and she moves after him, breaking to the other room they prepped. She hides behind the door, though it doesn't do her much good.

Long, bony, pale fingers wrap around the side of the door and a brunet male leans around it, eyes black as obsidian, and he smiles. Then a brunette female starts into the room, pace unhurried and dark eyes disinterested. Her face is lax, a strong contrast to the one of the man before her.

"Sloth," Katherine greets the woman.

"Oh, let me have her, won't you?" The man requests. "I want her."

Katherine's brow quirks. "Greed," she hums. "Get in line." She lunges, gripping the pale yellow t-shirt of Sloth, and throws the both of them underneath the devil's trap. Katherine quickly scrambles to her feet and whirls around just to be backhanded by Greed so hard, she's back in the trap with Sloth. But she doesn't do anything. She's disinterested, watching for the simple sake to watch. A declination of exertion. Thank God.

Katherine kicks the legs out from underneath Greed and picks him up by the shirt collar, dragging him over to the other holy-water-filled bathtub. He struggles, writhing in her grip and bringing his fist down on her forearm as hard as he can. It'll definitely bruise. She grunts, narrowly dodging an elbow to the stomach, grits her teeth together, and hits his head on the side of the tub to hopefully daze him. Then she moves around his back, legs on either side of his body, grips both wrists and twists his arms behind his back. She grips his wrists between her left hand and forces his head down into the tub with the other, allowing him to resurface after ten seconds for the sake of the host. If there's any chance of saving hosts, she'll take it. This vessel looks like it's in good enough shape.

In the other room, Dean is wrangling Lust, of all sins. The blonde smiles at him, eyes black as night, as she runs her hand down his chest.

"Listen, sweetheart, I've got a girlfriend well-versed in the art of kicking demon ass right next door," he says. "She's, uh, a lil' lunatic."

"I'm not your girlfriend!" Katherine shouts through her teeth, through her own struggle.

Bobby is probably dealing with Gluttony in the hallway, stuck within the bounds of a devil's trap. And upstairs, Sam is about to get his ass kicked by Pride and Wrath.

Greed dead-legs Katherine, climbs onto her back, and wraps her ponytail around his fist. She grips his legs and struggles to her feet, surprised she even had it in her to lift another full-grown human being like that, and slams him into the wall whilst he's still on her back. She reaches around, grips his hair, and starts dunking him again.

Upstairs, Sam's life is being saved by a mystery demon-killing-knife-weilding blonde. She killed the other demon before getting to Pride, where they both tag-teamed him, before the young woman ultimately killed that demon.

Killed. Right before Sam's eyes. There was no black demon smoke, only skin that seemed to have small lightning storms underneath the surface. Like Katherine's skin, after that fatal shot pierced her heart.

"Who the hell are you?" Sam pants, staggering backwards. His windpipe is still expanding, having been in a chokehold by Pride.

The mystery girl just barely smiles in a very Katherine way, and says, "I'm the girl that just saved your ass."

"Well I just saved yours, too."

She chuckles. "See you around, Sam." And then she left. She walked out of the room and disappeared—Sam didn't realize she literally disappeared. He figured she moved quickly and quietly, like Katherine did, and slipped out of the house before he could find her.

Katherine drags the body Greed had been possessing into the living room. With a grunt, she drops his shoulders, and walks past an exorcising-Bobby, back into the room with Sloth.

She's sitting on the ground, knees pulled to her chest, arms around her legs. Sloth tilts her head up to stare at Katherine with eyes blacker than night. Then, with a sigh, Sloth rises to her feet and drops her hands to her sides, as if surrendering.

"By all means," Sloth murmurs. Katherine curiously tilts her head a bit, examining the tall young woman before her. "Send me back, Little Catholic. You'd be doing me a favor."

"That's not something I hear from a demon every day. What you did to that family...you didn't take pleasure in that?" Sloth doesn't answer. "You know, a demon once asked me—rhetorically, of course—why she thought the demons were trying to come back up here. Because Hell was so awful. Why do you want to go back?" Again, Sloth says nothing. She just stands there, oddly staring at Katherine. The young hunter isn't sure if she's being observed or what.

So she starts her exorcism, and it's over within a few minutes. The demon wasn't clinging to the human host, digging its claws deeper into the soul of the vessel.

Soon, two brown eyes are peering up at Katherine. "Hi," the huntress says. "M'name's Katherine."

"Diana."

Katherine smiles a bit. "Well, Diana...you're all right now. Do you...know where you are?" Diana shakes her head. "Nebraska—Lincoln. You from around here?"

Diana shakes her head again. "I...that thing..."

"It was a demon," Katherine says. "An old one. You ever heard of the Seven Deadly Sins?" Diana reaches for her neck, but there's no chain. "You were reaching for your crucifix, weren't you?"

"How'd you know?" Diana murmurs.

Katherine offers her a gentle smile. "'Cause I've got one, too." She holds the gold and diamond thing away from her chest. Diana observes the other gold chains around her neck.

Diana lingers around the hunters for a while longer. Katherine gives her "The Talk" as she and the Winchesters dig a long grave for the few casualties of the evening—Pride, Wrath, Envy. Tamara is on her own, both willingly and not exactly on her own accord—nobody is ready to approach her just yet. She's been quietly preparing Isaac's body for a hunter's funeral.

"That's about all we know," Katherine says, wiping the back of her hand on her forehead.

Diana frowns a bit. "And you...do this for a living?"

"The pay is shit," Katherine lightheartedly warns. "But...yeah." She shrugs, nodding, and starts dumping salt along the corpses with Sam. Dean is on accelerant duty. With a grimace, Diana watches as Dean prepares to strike a few matches.

"You, uh..." He clears his throat. "Might not want to look at this."

"I'm a Corporal in the Marine Corps," she says. "I've...seen some things."

Katherine nods once. "Oorah," she hums. "My mom was a Staff Sergeant."

Diana is quiet for a moment. "I don't know what questions I do and don't have."

With a soft smile, Katherine starts over to the Impala and waves Diana forward. The hunter roots around for a moment before coming up with an old receipt and a pen. She writes her name and phone number down on the back before handing it over to Diana.

"Who's...Pete Jenkins?"

"No idea," Katherine hums, stuffing her hands into her pockets. Diana's brow furrows as she looks up from the receipt to Katherine. "It's a long-ish story."

Diana chuckles softly. "Yeah, I guess," she murmurs. "Uh...thank you. Really. You have no idea how awful it was, these past few days."

"I think I have an idea," Katherine softly tells her, but offers no further explanation.

Diana shakes her head. "God, I'm probably in so much trouble—"

"If you can stick around a few minutes more, we're just waiting for Bobby to finish up, then we can take you home." Diana nods. "Okay. Just sit tight over here." Katherine starts away, glancing over her shoulder as Diana sits in the backseat, her shoes planted on the grass as she watches over Katherine. "You look like Hell," she lightheartedly calls to Bobby. All of the men look over at her as she starts their way. Her skin is bright, sweaty, in the early morning sun. Her jacket is in the grass beside them, toned arms reddened from earlier scuffles. Hair is a mess, but out of all of them, she seems the most normal.

"You try exorcising all night," Bobby retorts.

"Eh—I gave The Talk," Katherine excuses, glancing over to Tamara and two burning 6x9 pallets, Isaac's body wrapped up in a white-turning-black sheet on top of it. "Kinda the same thing. Any survivors?"

"The heavy guy and the pretty girl—and the other pretty girl." Katherine nods once. "Lifetime 'o therapy bills ahead, maybe, but...they're alive."

"More than you can say for these poor bastards," Dean hums, tossing a few matches onto the corpses.

"Bobby, that knife, the one Sam told us about," Katherine murmurs. "I've never seen anything like that—nothing that can kill a demon. I thought the Colt was the only thing—"

"You and me both, kid," Bobby sighs.

"So where did it come from?"

Sam shifts his weight. "You want a really troubling question?"

"I implore you, no," Katherine says.

"If we let out the Seven Deadly Sins...what else did we let out?"

"Oh," Katherine hums, nodding. "Thanks, Sam."