"I can walk."

Katherine beams, fingers tightening around his jacket as she pulls him from the Impala. "Maybe I just like being close to you."

Dean smirks. "Then I'm not gonna protest." He winds an arm around her waist.

"Get grabby, you're gonna be in the mud," she warns him. "I don't even care that you're kind of a cripple." His expression turns sour as he stares at the rain-dotted white tent filling with injured people from all across the country; particularly at a sign that contains the words "faith healer."

"You're lying bastards," he accuses. "I thought you were taking me to see a doctor."

"Specialist," Sam corrects. "I believe we said 'specialist.'" He looks at Katherine, who quickly nods in agreement. Dean moves away from Katherine, carrying himself like the injured animal he is. "Look Dean, this guy is the real deal."

"I can't believe you brought me to see some guy who heals people out of a tent."

A woman in a pink coat turns to them, passing by. "Reverend La Grange is a great man."

"Yeah, that's nice."

Katherine chuckles, shaking her head as she loops her arm with Dean's. "Be nice," she tells him.

"I'm not nice."

"Of course you are," she objects, gazing at a scene before her. A man is standing between two police officers, shouting at the top of his lungs to anyone who has an ear.

"I have the right to protest—this man is a fraud! He's bilking people out of all their hard-earned money!"

Dean raises his brows and points over his shoulder at the man in the pea coat. "Not part of the flock, I take it."

"When people see something they can't explain, there's controversy," she tells him, stepping over a mud puddle.

"Come on, guys," Dean huffs. "A faith healer, really?"

"Hey—you took me under your wing, I'm taking you under mine and exploring everything under the sun," she says. Her eyebrows raise, and Dean knows she's hinting at their conversation last night.

"Maybe it's time to have a little faith, Dean," Sam chimes in.

"You know what I got faith in? Reality. Knowing what's really going on."

"How can you be a skeptic with the things we see every day?"

"Exactly! We see them, we know they're real!"

"If you know evil's out there, how can you not believe God is out there?" Sam questions.

"Because I've seen what evil does to good people."

"Maybe God works in mysterious ways." A pretty blonde woman before them turns around, and the first impression Katherine has of her is very Nicole Kidman.

Dean lets out a heavy sigh. "Yeah, I've heard that one before." He flashes her a tight smile and starts into the tent after his brother and Katherine.

The first thing she notices is a surveillance camera tucked into the tent corner. The second thing is people still shy away from the front row of a religious service.

With a devious smirk, she turns around to wait for the Winchesters, smiling politely at the blonde from outside and an older woman beside her. The brothers pop in and gaze curiously at her.

"We're sitting up front," she proclaims, turning on her heel.

"What?" Dean asks, eyes wide, and looks to his younger brother. "Sam, stop her."

Sam goes along with her, tugging his brother to the front, and he plops Dean down in the aisle seat beside Katherine.

Dean leans over to the girl's ear. She's already smirking, lips pursed to one side, deepening her dimple. "If I make it out of this, I'm kicking you to the curb," he promises her.

Katherine giggles, pressing a HotHands pack into his palm as she gazes at the man standing up on the stage. "Cool it, Scrappy."

The man wears sunglasses, wears a white dress shirt, black tie, trousers and shoes, and has a tuft of white hair sticking out of his ruddy head. The woman beside him, his wife no doubt, helps him to the lectern. He's smiling. It's a bit unnerving to the teenage girl. "Each morning, my wife, Sue Ann, reads me the news," he begins. Katherine makes a mental note that she has similar sunglasses. Another strange thing—an unfamiliar relic sits on the table just beside the stage. It's old-looking, stone perhaps; the lower half of a crucifix supports a circle with another cross inside it. She frowns a bit. She's never seen that one inside a church or area of worship, and she went to church often as a little girl. Still, it tickles something long forgotten in her brain. "Never seems good, does it?"

"No," the audience choruses. Dean huffs.

"Seems like there's always someone committing some immoral, unspeakable act."

Dean grunts, leaning to his side a bit. "I'm gonna be sick."

Katherine sighs, gently pushing a few strands up to meet the rest of his gelled hair with the tips of her fingers. The sensation sends a familiar shiver down his spine. His mother would do that to him. "You're such a baby," she grumbles. "Stop talking." Dean pouts.

"But I say to you, God is watching." Sounds of agreement echo through the ill. "And God rewards the good, and he punishes the corrupt." Everyone choruses in agreement once more. "It is the Lord who does the healing here, friends," Reverend La Grange proclaims with a smile. "The Lord who guides me in choosing who to heal by helping me see into people's hearts."

"Amen!"

"Amen!"

"Or into their wallets," Dean mutters. Katherine elbows him.

"You think so, young man?" A wave of cold mortification rolls down the girl's spine as she gapes at Dean. He's just as surprised as she is.

"Sorry," he finally amends, acutely aware of the gazes turned towards him.

"No, no...don't be. Just watch what you say around a blind man—we got real sharp ears." Everyone laughs. "What's your name, son?"

The hunter clears his throat. "Dean."

"Dean," the reverend repeats, nodding. "I want you to come up here with me."

Katherine beams, turning to him as everyone starts applauding. "No, it's okay," Dean says, shaking his head.

"What are you doing?" Sam hisses, leaning across Katherine to scold his older brother.

"You've come here to be healed, haven't you?" Reverend La Grange questions.

Dean hesitates. "Well yeah, but—" The eldest Winchester is interrupted by applause. "Maybe you should just pick someone else." Katherine clasps her warm hand over Dean's cool mouth. He pinches the back of her hand between his fingernails and she winces, shaking her hand out with a disgruntled expression.

"I didn't pick you, Dean," the reverend laughs. "The Lord picked you."

Dean sighs a bit, masked by more applause and encouragement. He turns to his right, glancing at the expectant gazes of his brother and their companion.

Katherine is smiling widely, but there's obvious intent in her eyes. It reeks of determination, a sort of 'if you don't get up, I'm going to kill you myself' and it's intense enough to pull him to his feet. He takes her with him.

"If you'd taken me to a hospital, you could've fixed this," he accuses through his teeth and false smile.

"Not a real doctor yet," she softly sings, helping him up onto the stage. "And we did take you to a hospital." Afterwards, she moves back to sit by Sam and the two exchange mirror expressions of hope.

"Pray with me, friends," Roy directs. Katherine and Sam glance around at everyone else, watching their hands lift into the air, palms facing the ceiling.

She certainly never prayed like this, but hell, if it worked then there's no reason to not adopt it. Sam grips her palm firmly, keeping their hands anchored to their laps. In suspense, Katherine's hand overlaps Sam's, and he's pleased with the warmth of her slender fingers. Her large, worried eyes are glued to Roy, barely listening to the piano playing as the reverend's hand moves to Dean's head. He wobbles a bit before he drops to his knees, and the grip between their hands tightens. Anxiously, Dean looks to his brother before his eyes shut and he collapses onto the floor.

Something isn't right. It's another one of those stomach qualms.

Katherine doesn't understand why everyone is cheering, and she and Sam rush the stage, crouching beside Dean.

"Are you okay?" Sam asks, wiggling Dean's shoulder. "Say something!" Disoriented, Dean sits up a bit with wild eyes, focused on the reverend. Katherine's palms rest on Dean's cheeks, soaking in the warmth of them, before she grins and kisses his head, pulling Sam into a hug with her other arm.

Dean is too busy sorting through what he just saw over the reverend's shoulder to listen to anything anyone is saying.

"I think he's okay," she whispers, nodding with a wide smile. "He's warm again."

Dean is sour as ever during the drive to the nearest hospital, and wordless, too. The X-ray technician informed them that nothing was wrong with Dean's heart. No evidence of ever having suffered a heart attack.

A strange thing, though, is a guy just as old as Dean—and even more athletic—suffered a heart attack.

"That's odd."

"Coincidence?" Sam suggests. "Hearts give out all the time."

"No they don't," Dean protests.

"Do we really have to look this one in the mouth?" Sam questions. "Why can't we just be thankful the guy saved your life?"

"Because I can't shake this feeling, that's why."

Katherine frowns, leaning against the wall as she stares at the eldest Winchester, intrigued. "What feeling?" She asks.

Dean's voice loses its hostile edge as he speaks to her. "When I was healed, I just...it felt wrong." He shrugs, pulling his jacket on. "I felt cold, and...for a second, I saw someone—this old guy. Wearin' a suit. I'm telling you, it was a spirit."

"If there was something there I think we would've seen it," Sam says. "Right Katherine?"

Her apprehension to answer isn't lost on the Winchesters. She nods slowly, retaining the same puzzled expression. "Look, you guys are just gonna need a little faith on this one," Dean says. "Sam, I've been hunting long enough to trust a feeling like this."

"Yeah, all right," Sam sighs. "So what do you want to do?"

"I could go for a burger," Katherine says, inspecting her nails.

Dean points to her. "First, we check out heart attack guy. I'm gonna visit the reverend." Sam nods and they look to Katherine. She looks between the two.

"What?" She asks.

"Where are you going?" Sam asks.

The girl blinks. "I'll go with Cripple in case he passes out." Dean rolls his eyes, starting from the room. Katherine catches up to him easily. She grips his bicep and turns him around. "That feeling you got," she says. "Being cold?" Dean nods. "Was it before the healing?"

"Before, during, after." He shrugs. "Why?" She shifts her weight, glancing down the hall, and Dean narrows his eyes. "Katherine."

"I felt it too," she says, shifting her attention back to Dean. He stares at her, perplexed. "I don't know, but...something was off. You were right."

"Well thanks for helping me out in there." He starts back down the hall.

"Well I'm not cornering Sam," she says, quickly falling in step with Dean. "I actually value his friendship."

"Oh, and you don't value mine? Ouch." She chuckles and rolls her eyes. "Hey, I'm not dying anymore. How about that kiss?"

Katherine jams her hands into her jacket pockets and purses her lips like she's actually considering it. Then she glances around the corridor. "Not the right place," she tells him, turning on the soles of her shoes, and starts for the doors again.

"Tease," Dean accuses.

At the La Grange residence, Katherine barely tunes in to Sue Ann and Dean's conversation. She sits on the sofa beside him, gazing inconspicuously at the decor with that strange relic from the tent in mind.

But nothing was suspicious.

Nothing except the closeness of Dean's leg brushing against hers. She could feel the heat of his thigh against hers, through the layers of denim. It was nice. Made her feel like a schoolgirl.

Outside, the Nicole Kidman reincarnation greets Dean and Katherine with a wide smile. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh—my mom." The gal gestures to the older woman climbing the stairs. "She wanted to talk to the reverend."

"Layla," Sue Ann greets from the door.

The blonde—Layla—smiles sheepishly. "Yes, I'm here again," she sighs.

"I'm sorry, but Roy is resting. He won't be seeing anyone else right now."

"Sue Ann, please," Layla's mother pleads. "This is our sixth time—he's got to see us."

"Roy is well aware of Layla's situation, and he very much wants to help...just as soon as the Lord allows. Have faith, Mrs. Rourke."

Katherine stretches up onto her toes, her lips brushing the shell of Dean's ear as she speaks. "It's rude to eavesdrop," she whispers, sending a chill down his spine, raising the fine hairs on his arms. She lowers herself to her heels, nodding to the Impala.

A disgruntled Mrs. Rourke turns her scornful gaze to the two hunters. "Why are you still here?" She questions. "You got what you wanted."

"Mom," Layla scolds. "Stop."

"No, Layla, this is too much. We've been to every single service. If Roy would just stop choosing strangers over you—strangers who don't even believe—" Her fiery gaze is once again focused on Dean.

"Look, I'm sorry—" he begins.

"No, don't apologize," Katherine interrupts, stepping in front of Dean, blue eyes narrowed at Mrs. Rourke. She turns to Layla. "What's wrong?"

"I have this thing—" Layla shrugs.

"It's a brain tumor," Mrs. Rourke cuts in.

"I'm sorry," Dean apologizes again.

Layla presses her lips together. "It's okay."

"No, it isn't," the older woman gaffs before turning on her heel to glare at Dean. "Why do you deserve to live more than my daughter?"

"He doesn't owe anyone apologies or explanations," Katherine tells her, taking a step closer. "We just showed up like everyone else, all right?" Mrs. Rourke removes herself, starting into the mud as she walks away. Katherine huffs briefly, watching her breath cloud, waiting for the flush to leave her cheeks. "I'll be in the car," she murmurs to Dean, starting away from him with her hands jammed into her jacket pockets.

Dean sighs, turning to Layla. She's smiling. "Your girl's right, you know," she says. "You don't have to apologize for anything. If anyone, I should be apologizing." But she doesn't, and she follows quickly after her mother. So maybe she really was mad, just like her mom, about the whole situation.

Katherine is right. He doesn't owe anyone an apology. He didn't even want to be healed. But he still felt guilty.

Dean settles into the Impala, gazing curiously at Katherine. "What?" She snaps.

"What was that back there?" He asks, starting the car up.

"What was what?"

He smiles. "You were smarting off to an old lady."

"Well she was being a dick."

Dean chuckles. "An old lady was being a dick."

She shrugs. "Girls can be dicks and guys can be bitches."

Dean laughs this time, pulling out of the gravel drive. "You're not wrong there."

✕

"Somehow, La Grange is trading one life for another."

"Think it's hoodoo?" Katherine questions around a mouthful of bacon cheeseburger.

"Dunno," Sam responds.

"Marshall Hall died to save me?" Dean questions.

"Dean, the guy probably would've died anyway," Katherine says, thumbing through the pages Sam printed off while the two were gone. He searched for everyone Roy has healed in the past several years and cross-checked local obituaries—the victims died of the same illness the healed was afflicted with. Like Dean and Marshall Hall.

It's fairly easy to predict Dean's about to spiral into one of his irrational mood swings.

"You never should have brought me here," he states.

"Dean, we didn't know," the girl murmurs, pushing her foil-wrapped dinner away. "We were just trying to save your life."

"Well some guy is dead now because of me!"

"We didn't know!" Katherine defends.

Minutes of tense silence, awkward pass. "I just can't figure out how Roy is doing it," Sam murmurs, staring at his laptop. "How is he trading a life for a life?"

"He's not," Dean protests. "Something else is doing it for him."

"What are you talking about?"

"The old man I saw onstage. I didn't want to believe it, but deep down I knew."

Katherine turns her curious gaze to Dean, dark lashes tangling with her light fringe. "Knew what?"

"There's only one thing that can give and take life like that," he says, leaning against the table beside her. "A reaper."

Katherine pushes her tongue over her teeth, swallowing her food as she steals Sam's laptop. "Never got to gank the Grim Reaper before."

Dean rolls his eyes. "Not The Reaper, a reaper. There's reaper lore in pretty much every culture on earth, go by hundreds of different names."

"More than one?" Katherine questions.

Dean shrugs. "It's possible."

Katherine frowns. "Can you kill a reaper?"

"You said you saw a dude in a suit," Sam protests, looking to Dean.

Dean snorts. "Dude, he's not gonna show up to the party in a black robe."

Katherine clicks on an article and reads through it for a moment. "Hang on, you said the clock stopped, right? With Marshall, when he died?"

"Yeah..."

"Reapers stop time." She points to a line on the laptop screen and sits back, crossing her arms. "You can only see them when they're coming at you, which would explain why Dean saw it when he was healed."

"But it doesn't explain how you knew it was there," Dean says. "Unless you're hiding some terminal illness, or you're prone to spontaneous death."

"I don't know that death isn't spontaneous outside of hospitals and ventilation tubes," Katherine mutters. "And I don't know what I felt." She shrugs.

"Same thing I did."

"Sure, but does that mean I felt the reaper?"

"How?" Sam asks.

The other two shrug. "The real question is how Roy is controlling the thing," Dean sighs.

Katherine crosses her arms, staring at the laptop with pursed lips. She grabs her burger and crams a bite into her mouth, pondering over everything she witnessed in the past six hours. Suddenly, her eyes widen and her jaw slackens a bit. "The cross." Her words are muffled around her food, and the boys have no idea what she said. Katherine chews and bolts to her bag, leaving the Winchesters curiously staring after her.

"What?"

"The cross," Katherine repeats, her food stuffed in one cheek as she sorts through a stack of cards. She grunts and plucks one before displaying it to the Winchesters. "Tarot dates back to the early Christian era, when some priests were still using magic. A few veered into the dark stuff—necromancy and how to push death away, how to cause it." She shrugs, chewing slowly.

"So Roy is using black magic to bind the reaper?"

"We gotta stop him."

"Obviously," Katherine mutters, reaching for her burger. Her fingertips come up short, though, and she frowns at the vacant space on the table. "All right, listen here, Hamburglar," she says, snatching her burger from Dean. He stares at her, looking similar to a teenager having just been scolded by his mom. "You already ate yours."

"You weren't touching it."

"I put it down. Sorry I don't inhale my food."

"How do we stop Roy?" Sam questions, redirecting the conversation.

"Like a rabid dog," Katherine says, taking another bite of her burger. She makes a finger gun and wiggles her eyebrows. "Only way."

"We can't kill him," Sam protests.

"Dude, he's killing other people," Katherine points out. "The guy's playing God, deciding who lives or dies."

"That's a monster in my book," Dean agrees.

"Guys, we're not gonna kill a human being. We do that, we're no better than he is."

Katherine groans, hoisting herself onto the counter, and swings her legs. "So we can't kill Roy, we can't kill Death. Any other ideas?"

"If Roy's using black magic to control the reaper, we have to figure out what spell he's using and how to break it."

"Because that's a walk in the park," Katherine bites. Then she stops everything—chewing, breathing, blinking.

"Katherine?"

"We look for the cross," she mutters. "Any other weird relics in that place. Maybe there's, like, a shrine of 'em or something, you know?"

"A spell book," Sam suggests. Katherine snaps her fingers and points to him. "We find the book, figure out the spell—"

"Next service is in an hour," Dean says. "Let's go." Katherine grabs her jacket and her gun, acutely aware of Sam's steady gaze on her.

She checks her rounds and locks it in with the heel of her palm before placing the weapon on safety and tucking it into the back of her jeans. "What?" She asks.

"A gun?"

She gazes flatly at him. "Last time I used a bat on something that wasn't a ghost, everyone lost their minds."

"No." Sam quickly shakes his head. "No bats."

She grins, grabbing her burger. "Then let's get moving, Princess." She starts outside before the boys. Sam looks to Dean with raised brows, and the older brother smiles.

"I like her," he says.

"She's crazy."