𝐃𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐕𝐀𝐍

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐘-𝐎𝐍𝐄

"Dean."

"Hmm."

"Get. Your arm. Off of my neck." Katherine turns onto her stomach, tucking her hands underneath her pillow. Dean's arm falls across her back and she grunts. "Dean." Sam sucks in a deep breath of air and Katherine jumps, fully waking up. "Sam?" She squints, staring at him as he flies up on his bed on the other side of the room.

"We have to go."

"What?" She rubs her face and turns to look at the alarm clock. They'd only gotten into Michigan— "It's two AM. We've been asleep for two hours—Sam what's going on?" She quietly asks, curling into a ball. Her brow is furrowed, and she presses herself into Dean's warm side. 

"We have to go," he repeats.

Katherine sits up with alertness she didn't have before. Her heart hammers in her chest. "What's going on?"

"Right now." He grabs his bag. "C'mon."

"Dean." She nudges the man harshly and throws her legs out of bed and stumbles for her toiletries. She's in the middle of brushing her teeth and Dean still hasn't woken up. "Dean," she says around her toothpaste, wiggling his arm.

"Dude," he grunts.

"Dean, we gotta go."

"Why?"

"Something's up with Sam." Dean practically flies out of bed. Katherine turns to the sink and rinses her mouth out. She doesn't bother with contacts, knowing her eyes will sting to hell if she tried to put them in with only a few hours of sleep, and shoves her glasses onto her nose. She throws her shorts into her bag and tugs on a pair of her cropped leggings, knowing Dean isn't wasting his time ogling her, and grabs her coat and bag before running for her car. She throws her bag into the trunk and waits for Dean, following behind the Impala.

Katherine radios in on the road. "You know what the hell is going on?"

"Sam had a nightmare," Dean tiredly responds.

She huffs and jams the button down once more. "We're driving in the middle of the night because—"

"He said it's like the ones he had before."

Katherine frowns. "With your guys' old house?"

"Yeah. Sam, that plate's not gonna check out." Dean's voice drops from her radio. Katherine waits for a moment holsters the walkie and sighs, leaning against the door with her left elbow, and puts her temple in her hand. 

Dean picks up the pace and she presses down on the accelerator to match him. "It matched," he says to her.

Katherine presses down on the side button, glowering at the back of the Impala. A smile tugs at her mouth, though, when an idea pops into her head. "Unit One to base, I've got a speeding 1967 Impala, plate KILO-ALPA-ZULU TWO-YANKEE-FIVE. You copy?"

Dean picks his walkie up and sighs. "Shaddup."

She giggles, holstering her device. A few hours later, they roll into town in Saginaw, Michigan, and Katherine is still in the dark about the whole operation.

She can't keep her eyes open. Once they pull up to a house surrounded by ambulances and police cars, she crawls into the back, feeling like death. Her gut twists with something strange.

Dean knocks on the window. Katherine leans forward and cranks it down. "Hey, kid—you all right?"

"No," she sighs, resting her chin on the seat. "I feel horrible." He frowns. "I ache, I can't stay awake. I'm burnt out, man." She nods to the house. "What's going on?"