Crossroads - Supernatural Rewrite

Pilot

Hey readers!!!

This book follows Katerina Drayton through Season 1 of Supernatural. I plan on making a second book to follow Season 2 and so on, so stay tuned if you like this rewrite!

While this story follows the main episodes, every chapter contains important character development, plot details, and original moments that connect across chapters, so every chapter matters!

I started this story in middle school, so please be understanding of any typos/grammatical errors and feel free to leave a comment so I can fix them!

I also love to hear what you guys have to say and your thoughts on the story, so comments are encouraged :) Enjoy! <3

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The Impala tore through the silence of the open road with one headlight out, casting a lopsided glow that stretched across the cracked asphalt. Dean sat behind the wheel, his jaw set, eyes forward, fingers tapping the steering wheel as he nudged the car just above the speed limit.

Kat sat slouched in the passenger seat, legs tucked up, boots on the edge of the dashboard. Her thumb hovered over the screen of her phone, the faint glow lighting up the shadows beneath her eyes. Her fingers tightened around the device, but she didn't press "Call." Not yet. Not again.

John had been gone for weeks now—off the grid, no texts, no coordinates, no breadcrumbs left behind. And it wasn't like him, not entirely. Sure, John was a man of vanishing acts and half-explained missions, but he always made sure they knew he was alive. The silence—it wasn't just frustrating. It was wrong.

She turned her face toward the window, her thoughts wandering—as they always did—back to Iris. Her mother's name still tasted strange on her tongue after all these years, a name wrapped in mystery and dread. Iris was beautiful, strong in a quiet way, but always afraid. She would lock every window, every door, double-check every bolt before bed, and still wake Kat in the middle of the night to pack their things and flee to another town with another name. Even as a child, Kat knew they were running. Not just from men or memories—but something worse.

Kat remembered everything about the night she died, every detail—despite wishing she didn't. John took her in without hesitation, no questions asked. Raised her like she was one of his own.

Dean cut the wheel slightly to avoid a pothole, his eyes flicking toward her. "You gonna call him or just stare the battery down until it dies?"

Kat blinked, coming back to the present. She exhaled through her nose, "I don't know," she murmured, thumbing the edge of the phone. "What if something's wrong?"

Dean's mouth tightened. "Then we find him. We get Sam...and we find him."

She turned her gaze to him, studying his profile—the shadows playing along the sharp lines of his jaw, the familiar stubbornness in his expression. He wouldn't say it, but he was worried too.

The Impala roared on, pulling them closer to California, to Stanford, to Sam.

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It was Halloween, the streets packed with kids in costume, their laughter muffled by the Impala's windows. Kat thought back to her own childhood, hazy memories of trick or treating before she ended up with John. He had forbidden it after taking her in, reminding her and the boys all about the dangers that lurked around on Halloween night. And in hindsight, he was right.

As they neared Stanford, Dean parked the Impala a block away from Sam's apartment building, casting a look over to Kat. "Ready?"

She met his gaze, "Yeah, let's go."