𝐃𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐕𝐀𝐍

𝐓𝐄𝐍

Katherine lets out a sigh, massaging her scalp with her fingertips as she stares up at the wall of stuff she printed out earlier in the day. Sam is still passed out on the bed, face-down. She and Dean have changed back into their street clothes. While she's been taping and pacing, Dean has watched from the bed and table...not contributing. 

She rolls up onto the balls of her socked feet and yawns. "Okay," she says, shaking her head. "So demons are nasty sons 'a bitches, ain't no way we can get around that."

"Okay, but is there any evidence they can do stuff like possess people to take down entire airplanes?" Dean asks.

"Of course," she replies with a nod, and crosses over to the table where he is. "In Japanese culture, it is believed that certain demons are behind certain disasters, both natural and man-made." She drapes her jacket over her shoulders, which are practically bare for all of the coverage her cami provides. "One causes earthquakes, another causes disease—"

"And this one causes plane crashes?"

"Demons can do anything and everything, if they had the idea," Katherine says, crossing her arms. "Some of 'em were people, once."

"All right, so what?" Dean asks. "We have a demon that's evolved with the times and figured out a way to ratchet up the body count?"

"I guess." Dean chuckles humorlessly and shakes his head, scratching the back of it. "What?"

"I dunno, Kat...I mean, this isn't our usual gig."

"It is for me," she quietly replies, looking to Sam's computer screen. Dean turns around to gaze at the younger girl. "It's what we do, us Donovans."

"What ever made you all so crazy to pick a bone with demons anyway?" Dean asks.

He always heard stories about Donovans. They're like legends in the hunting community.

Katherine snorts. "We picked the bone," she says with a nod. "1700s, Ireland. Seamus Donovan. He was fifteen years old and his mother was dying...a woman came up to him one day at the village well and asked if he had one wish, what would it be? Of course, he said he wanted to save his mother." Katherine purses her lips. "The woman told him all would be well the moment he returned home—all she needed was a kiss. So he kissed her. Years went by, and true to the woman's word, Seamus' mother was healthier than a horse. He had two sons and a girl before that demon came back and took him. He was tricked. Never said anything about selling his soul or anything."

Dean, needless to say, is skeptical. "How do you know?"

"Seamus kept a journal. I'll show you one day—it's in one of my dad's lockups down south. Anyway, Seamus' eldest son, Brennan, was nine when he died. He describes it in his journal pretty vividly. It's amazing, really."

"So you crazy sons of bitches have been hunting demons for almost three hundred years because of some fifteen year old boy?"

Katherine smiles, but it's a little sad. "Haven't you ever heard Irish grudges are passed on?" She asks. Dean shrugs. "Dean," she sighs. "It's the same reason you all got involved in hunting. Your mom, right? Family? They didn't have much...Seamus just had his mom, his father, his brother and a few sheep." She rubs her hand a little awkwardly. "Look, if you don't wanna do this case, it's fine. I can wrap it up myself. Shouldn't take long."

"No way in hell I'm abandoning you, kid," Dean says. A small smile tugs at the corner of Katherine's mouth. Her phone buzzes on the table and she quickly answers it.

"Hello? Oh, hey, Jerry." After a moment, her eyes flit up to Dean. "Oh, man, I'm sorry. What happened?" A pause. "Where did it happen?" Katherine lets out a heavy sigh. "Yeah. You take care, Jerry. We'll catch up with you soon." She hangs up.