𝐃𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐕𝐀𝐍

𝐅𝐈𝐅𝐓𝐘-𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐄

"You and me, kid, we're going to take the world—!"

Katherine flies up, covered in a blanket of cold sweat. Her hair feels clammy near the roots, her body is too hot. Her heart feels as though it could beat straight through her sternum. A brief flicker of repulsive yellow flashes by the back window of the Impala with the speed of the car. She lets out a cross between a gasp and a heavy breath, flattening her spine against the opposite door. Trembling fingers freeze. A few more loud, shaky breaths escape her dry lips. Dean glances back at her through the rearview mirror.

She hasn't said much to him since they left the pier in Galveston. She's also woken up in the middle of the night for the past several nights, but she hasn't shared the reason why.

The Winchesters have a vague idea.

Katherine angles her knees, resting her elbows on them, and runs her hands through her hair. She focuses on her breathing. On the sickness in her stomach that rises into her throat. On Charlie. On the yellow eyes—

"Welcome back," Sam jests. "You were snoring."

"Shut up," she rasps, leaning forward, and slaps the flat of her hand against his chest. Sam laughs. "I don't snore."

"No, no, you do when you're really out," Dean disagrees. "But nothin' like Chainsaw over here—"

"I don't snore!" Sam protests.

"Yeah, and Dean's a virgin," Katherine scoffs, resting the tops of her arms on the front seat.

"Hey!"

She shrugs.

"Have a good nap?" Sam asks.

"As good as ever," she mutters. He can see the weariness beneath her eyes in the light purple circles, hollowing her dead eyes even more.

"So Bobby says he's got crop failure and cicada swarms outside Lincoln," Sam says.

"Man, I hate cicadas," Katherine says, grimacing, and inspects her fingernails. "Them bastards is ugly. And you know what? It could just be a bad crop year and an overdue pesticide service call."

"Yeah, well, it's our only lead," Sam tells her. Katherine shakes her head.

"And no freaky deaths?"

"None that Bobby could find."

"Well I'm slightly freaked out," Katherine says. "It's been five days and we've got bupkis. I mean, I was kind of expecting 'Fire sale, impending apocalypse, everything must go'." She frowns a bit, fingertip catching on a hangnail. "I need a manicure," she mutters, leaning back in her seat.

Of all things to worry about, you choose your paint job.

"And ya know, we've gotta do somethin' about this possession situation," Katherine barrels on, crossing her arms. "Meg possessed Sam, Yellow Eyes possessed me. Who's gonna possess Dean?"

"Nobody," Dean scoffs. "Unlike some people, I have my protection amulet."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Katherine drawls. "I figured Charlie would need it more than I would since he's, ya know, not trained to defend himself against these things! My mistake."

"Damn right."

She grits her teeth. "Well anyway, there are at least ten times more demons flying 'round here. And we've got no more of those things—Bobby gave us the last of 'em, I already asked."

"Looks like we need something more permanent," Sam says. "How do we ward ourselves against demons?"

The genius in the back seat's ears perk up. Her eyebrows furrow a little. "What'd you say?" She asks.