𝐃𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐕𝐀𝐍

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍

"My God, it's really been four months," Katherine muses, staring at the roof of the Impala.

Four months, and not a word from John Winchester or her father. Sophia stopped calling so often and started emailing a few times a week. Four months of hunting ghosts, looking for anything else that screamed "freaky." There was a case somewhere in the Mid-West where a few middle-school aged girls awakened the ghost of Bloody Mary.

What a joy that one was.

Christmas, New Year's, Dean's birthday, messy tubes of toothpaste, the boys' shaved beard hairs in the sink and Katherine shouting at the top of her lungs after them like some road mom. Four months of Dean listening to the same music over and over again. Four months of House Rules. God, what a horror. Four months of pranks and some days off. Four months of being punched in the face in the middle of sleep or being crushed underneath the weight of a limb. 

Four months of suppressing unwanted emotion.

But hey—four months of milkshakes.

Dean knocks on Sam's window, and the younger brother cranks it down, looking down at his lap, obviously preoccupied. "I think if we keep on this pace, we could hit Tucumcari by lunch, head South, get to Bisbee by midnight..." Dean leans sideways, staring at his brother, who very obviously isn't paying attention. "Sam wears Katherine's underwear..."

"I'm listening, I'm just busy."

Katherine frowns. "Sam, I told you, we're two totally different sizes."

"Busy doing what?" Dean asks.

"Reading emails."

Katherine leans out of her window. "What's in Bisbee?" She asks. 

"Cacti," Dean answers. She rolls her eyes. "I was thinking we could look for a chupacabra."

She snorts. "I can't believe I live in a reality where that sentence actually doesn't sound so far-fetched." Katherine's eyes move to the ticking sales meter on the gas pump. "This thing doesn't get very good mileage, does it?" She asks with a smile. They only stopped about two hours ago.

"You shut your mouth." He turns to Sam. "Who's emailing you?"

"Friends from Stanford."

Dean snorts. "You still talk to your college buddies?"

Katherine scowls. "Why not?" She asks, crossing her arms over the frame of the door.

"Easy, tiger," Dean says, raising his hands with a smile. "I know you lie to your friends, but Sam...what do you tell them?"

"Same thing Katherine said to Sophia," Sam says. "That I'm on a road trip. And it's not lying, it's just...not telling them everything."

"No, right. We hunt monsters in between visiting national landmarks," Dean says, nodding.

"Well it's better than telling them the truth," Katherine defends. 

"All I'm saying is, in this life, you don't really get to have friends. You can't get close to people like that."

"Well you're kind of the poster boy of being anti-social," she quips. Dean pushes her head back into the Impala. "Hey!" She swats at his wrists. "You can't just shove me when you disagree with something I say, especially if it's the truth! And I have friends and I hunt—I'm just fine."

"Debatable."

"I got an email from Rebecca Warren," Sam says, twisting around to look at Katherine. "One of those friends of mine."