"Okay, so we aren't dealing with the Loch Ness, much to my disappointment," Katherine says, sitting on the edge of the table in the Winchester brothers' motel room. "And if we're assuming Will Carlton didn't drown himself in the sink of his own house, what the hell is it?" She crosses her arms and looks at the two brothers with a perfectly poised brow. "Water wraith?"
"Some kind of water spirit," Dean agrees, glancing over the teenager. She practically barged in, the key nearly silent in the lock. What he was more surprised at was the fact that she's dressed before him and Sam.
Her blonde hair falls around her shoulders in loose curls—there's more dark color at her roots now than there was when he first met her. She wears a long sleeve black mock-neck sweater tucked into a pair of dark blue waist-high Levis and gray chuck taylors. Dean can't find the staple black velvet choker on the length of her neck, but she's still wearing that diamond ring on her finger.
She looks good—and it's hard to not focus on her mouth, red lipstick pristine.
"Something that controls water," she hums in thought, gnawing on the inside of her cheek. She pushes herself off of the table and puts her palms flat on her lower back as she begins to slowly pace. "Okay, so all the vics drowned at the lake, and now the Carlton boy, but he was at home. What if it has something to do with the water source? What if the Carltons get their water from the lake? I mean, yesterday the sheriff said the lake is draining, so...that could explain why it's upping the body count."
"It'll be dry in a few months," Sam says, nodding in agreement. "Whatever this thing is, it's running out of time."
"And it can get through the pipes," Dean adds. "Which means it can get to anyone, anywhere—it's gonna happen again, soon."
"And we do know one other thing for sure," Sam says. "This's got something to do with Bill Carlton."
"Whoa." Katherine holds up a finger, glancing between the boys. "Rewind. Pause. Explain."
"It took both of his kids," Dean says.
Sam nods. "I did some asking around. Lucas' dad, Chris, is Bill Carlton's godson."
Katherine rocks onto her heels. "Well what are you two still lookin' at me for? Let's go pay the old man a visit."
✕
"I don't care who you're with," Bill Carlton quietly says, staring out at the lake with glassy eyes. "I've answered enough questions today."
"Your son said he saw something in that lake," Katherine presses, jamming her hands into her utility jacket pockets. "You ever seen anything?" He doesn't answer, and the girl sighs. "Mister Carlton, Sophie's drowning and Will's death—we think there could be a connection to you and your family, whatever's going on—"
"My children are gone," the man says, but his speech isn't enunciated, like he's talking around a lump in his throat. "It's...it's worse than dying. Go away—please."
So the three head back to the front of the house. "What do you think?" Sam murmurs.
"I think he's not telling us something," Katherine hums, leaning against the Impala.
"So now what?" Katherine's brow twitches and her eyes narrow as she gazes at the Carlton home. She hadn't noticed it before—"What?"—but it looks like Lucas' drawing.
"Maybe Bill's not the only one who knows something," Katherine quietly finishes, reaching into her pocket to pull out the folded-up drawing from Lucas. A quick analysis is all it takes to confirm the house drawn is the Carlton residence.
Katherine sits in the back seat of the Impala, staring at Lucas' drawing as Sam hunts down a phone book to pin Andrea's father's home—the sheriff. After a brief debate with Andrea, she finally let Katherine in to talk to Lucas. She led the three hunters to his bedroom at the back of the house. It's a small, dark room lined with car-decorated wallpaper and everything she would think would be in a little boy's room. A skateboard, those little green soldiers. Legos. He's drawing again.
"Hi, Lucas," Katherine greets, sitting down on her knees before the boy and shifts to her side, resting her weight on her palm. "D'you remember me?" Dean stares at Lucas' latest drawing—a red bicycle. "Lucas, I need your help," she says, sitting up to cross her legs, and leans forward a bit, sliding his drawing of the Carlton home forward. "How did you know to draw this?" She whispers. "Did you know something bad was going to happen?"
Katherine presses her lips together after another few moments of silence.
"I know you're frightened," the huntress continues. "Because I know some things, too, things other people don't. And when I was younger, what I was talking to you about earlier? Something really awful happened to my family. I didn't feel like talking either." Her voice is soft and comforting. Even the hunters have a difficult time piecing together what it is she's saying to the little boy. Andrea is on edge. "But I think my family would've wanted me to be brave...and so I try to be. Every day, I try. And my friends, Dean and Sam? Something happened to their mother, too, when they were about your age. We all try to be really, really brave for 'em." She rests her chin in her palm, torso leant over her lap. "Maybe your dad wants you to be brave, too?"
Lucas slowly sets his crayon down and looks up at Katherine. A small smile tugs at her red lips, the dimple and lines in her cheek only making her seem all the more friendly. He looks to Dean, Sam, and his mother. Back to Katherine. To the drawings. He sifts through the pile for a few moments before handing a piece of paper to the teenager.
Two buildings—a yellow house and a church. A gate, a little boy in a hat, and a red bicycle.
Katherine looks up from the drawing with a small smile. "Thanks, Lucas." She rolls onto her feet and waves to the boy. "Thank you, Andrea," she murmurs, glancing back into Lucas' room. She nods, a little stunned, and the three hunters move to the front of the house.
"Andrea said the kid never drew like that until his dad died," Dean says, shutting his door to the Impala.
"Well," Katherine sighs. "There are cases...going through a traumatic experience could make certain people more sensitive to premonitions and psychic tendencies."
"What if Lucas is tapping into whatever's going on?" Sam suggests.
"Probably wouldn't be far off," Katherine says, leaning forward with the drawing in hand.
"The only problem is, I'd be willing to bet there are a million two-story yellow houses in this county," Dean says.
"But not a million churches," Katherine quips.
Dean's head whips around to look at her, a small smirk on her face. "College girl think she's so smart," he mocks. Katherine lets out a quiet giggle, biting on the inside of her cheek as she gazes at the drawing.
"Pull over where there are people," she says, sitting back in her seat.
Dean frowns. "Why?"
"Because College Girl thinks it makes more sense—and it saves time—if we get out and ask people where the thing is instead of driving around for hours," Katherine tells him.
The locals' directions lead them to the corner of Birch and Childs, and across the street is a yellow two-story with a tall, rounded fence, just like in Lucas' picture.
"Now what?" Sam asks.
"Ain't it obvious?" Katherine replies, tucking the drawing into her jacket, and starts for the yellow house. The boys' long strides make it easy to catch up with the smaller girl, reaching the porch as she knocks on the front door.
An older woman, a few inches shorter than Katherine, answers the door. Her white hair is disheveled and her blue eyes are a bit wide, startled. It's dark in the house.
"Sorry to bother you, ma'am," Katherine amends. "But does a little boy live here by chance? Blue ball cap, red bike?"
The woman looks down and shakes her head. "No...not for a very long time." She swallows and looks up at the three hunters. "Come inside, why don't you?" The woman turns on her heel and starts away from the three. Sam shuts the door behind him. "His name was Peter. He's been gone thirty-five years, now." She turns, picks up a squared object from the entry table, and hands a framed photograph to Katherine. The young boy in the photograph has shaggy brown hair, dark eyes, and in very 1970s fashion, wears a striped turtleneck sweater. "The police never...I never had any idea what happened to him. He just disappeared. I can show you his bedroom, if you like."
"That would be great," Sam says, flashing her a quick, small smile. The woman waves the three upstairs. She twists the doorknob to the first door and pushes it into the room after taking a deep breath. "Losing him," she murmurs. "It's worse than dying."
Bill Carlton said those exact words.
And the first thing Dean notices in Peter's bedroom is the lack of dust on the toy soldiers sitting up on the dresser. He nudges Katherine and nods to them. Her face goes lax, connecting the same dots he did.
Lucas has those same little green men.
"Did he disappear from the house?" Katherine asks, blue eyes sweeping from the army men to Peter's mother.
"He was supposed to ride his bike straight home after school," she explains with difficulty, wiping her eyes. "And he never showed up."
They all take that as a solid 'no.'
A few moments of silence pass before Sam pipes up. "Do you mind if we take a quick look around?" She shakes her head, gesturing to the room, and makes a slow exit to the downstairs area. Katherine moves straight for the toy soldiers, picking one up and analyzing it. Perhaps Lucas feels some sort of connection with Peter. They have similar things in their rooms, anyway.
Dean plucks a photograph from Peter's dustless mirror. "Peter Sweeney and Billy Carlton, 1970," he reads, holding the photo up for the other two.
"I think we need to repay him a visit," Katherine murmurs, setting the toy down, and moves quickly for the stairs with a strange determination glinting in her eye. "Thank you for your time, Miss Sweeney," she calls, peering around the staircase. "We'll be on our way now."
"Oh—of course."
Katherine flashes the woman a small, empathetic smile before exiting the house with Sam and Dean shortly behind her. "Okay," she says, pressing her back up against the passenger door to face both brothers. She holds a finger up. "So Pete vanishes, and somehow Bill Carlton is connected."
"Bill sure as hell seems to be hiding something," Dean grunts in agreement, wrenching his door open.
"What if he knows how Peter died?" Katherine suggests, climbing into the car, and shuts the door behind her. "Or knows something worthy of getting punished for it? A vendetta against his family?" She crosses her arms. "What if Bill killed him?"
"Kat, they couldn't have been more than ten," Sam tries to reason.
"Kids do psycho stuff all the time!" Katherine cries. "In 1968, eleven-year-old Mary Bell strangled a four-year-old and dismembered a three-year-old boy's genitals and carved an 'M' into his stomach."
"It's disturbing how you know that off of the top of your head."
Katherine shrugs, folding her hands up in her lap. "I read," she simply explains.
She's the first out of the Impala, and moves swiftly to the front door of Bill Carlton's home. She poises her knuckles to knock, but stops when she sees the door is cracked open. she uses the tops of her fingers to nudge the door open, and proceeds with caution. Her hand twitches to the gun wedged between the waistband of her jeans and the small of her back. In a quick, higher-cognitive thought that required little more than that, she pulls her gun and drags the concealed carry clip to her hip bone—better withdraw time. Dean watches the girl carefully, following behind her.
He'd never been nervous like he is now. Of course he had his suspicions when his father gave him instructions to find Katherine. She's a nineteen year old girl for crying out loud. Inexperienced, as far as he's concerned. Inexperience makes Dean twitch. So if it came to life and death, would she make the cut?
"Mister Carlton?" She calls into the house, standing up straight. Her glaucous eyes sweep the entryway and her steady feet carry her into the kitchen—nothing. Katherine turns, finding Dean just behind her, and shakes her head. "Bill?" She asks, moving around the corner and into the living room. Nothing there, either. Dean checks the bedrooms, Sam goes for the attic. Katherine circles back to the kitchen and stares at the sink with pursed lips.
This must be where Will drowned.
She rests her hands on the edge of the counter and leans forward, waiting for the boys to finish their sweep. And then a little boat speeds by on the water, carrying Bill Carlton. Her eyes blow wide. "Boys!" She shouts, moving for the door. "Mister Carlton!" The boys watch, barely able to keep up with the girl as she sprints to the dock. She's faster than lightning, that one. "Mister Carlton! Turn the boat around!" As the other two arrive, she doesn't even seem winded as she shouts at the top of her lungs over the roar of the motor. "Bill!" He probably can't even hear her.
So suddenly that Katherine takes a step back, nudging Sam's solar plexus with her elbow, Bill Carlton and his boat are shot out of the water and sucked under the surface. The only evidence of their time on the water is the ripples across the water, the waves.
"Damn it to hell," Katherine mutters, kicking at the dock, and puts her hands on her hips as she paces. "Well now what?"
"Call the sheriff, for starters," Sam says.
"And say what?" Katherine asks. "That Bill Carlton and his boat got blown fifty feet up and sucked back down like a friggin' reverse water spout?"
"It wouldn't be the craziest thing, would it?"
The teenager lets out a low sigh, scowling out at the water. "I guess not," she mumbles, reaching into her jacket pocket, and dials Sheriff Devins. "Not for us."
He doesn't ask too many questions after learning it's out at the lake—besides the generalities—and orders a sweep of the lake, like the rest of the disappearances, and the three of them head back to the station for filing.
"I heard about Bill Carlton," Andrea murmurs, crossing her arms as she gazes up at her father. Lucas sits on a swirling chair, staring down at the ground, with a bucket of the family's dinner in his arms. "Is it true? Is something going on with the lake?"
"Right now, we don't know what the truth is," Sheriff Devins tells her. "But I think it might be better if you and Lucas went on home."
Lucas' head shoots up and he whimpers, forcefully setting the bucket of fried chicken off to the side. His hands shoot to Katherine and he yanks her arm. She lets out a surprised grunt, her knees more than willing to buckle at the unexpected tug. "What is it?" She asks, kneeling before him. He continues those quiet grunts, tugging on Katherine's arm, his gaze shooting between her and Dean. Andrea moves over to Lucas and tries to pry him off of Katherine.
"Lucas, it's okay," Dean says. "It's okay—" he works carefully to appease the strong grip of the little boy from Katherine's wrist. Her finger is twisted awkwardly, no doubt painfully, crushed under his other hand's grip. Finally, he lets go, and Andrea is quick to take him away. Katherine rises to her feet, flexing her fingers as she gazes after the little boy. He's hesitant to let her out of his sight, looking perhaps more fearful than she did when she was six years old and a demon appeared in her closet.
"Follow me," the sheriff says, retreating into his office. Sam follows after him.
Dean glances to the teenager's profile as she stares after Lucas. "You okay?" He asks. She nods and presses her lips together before turning on the balls of her feet to face him. "No you're not."
Her face twists a little. "You've known me for two weeks," she states, glancing him up and down.
"I'm good at reading people."
"Sheriff's waiting." Dean reaches out and grabs Katherine's sleeve, tugging her back. She huffs, glaring up at him through her long lashes. She juts her chin and sets her jaw. "Just because you're bigger and maybe stronger than me doesn't mean you have to—"
"I've seen that look a hundred times on a hundred different faces," he says. Katherine's nose twitches, the only minor slip in her stony expression. One of her tics. "What's buggin' you?"
"He hasn't acted like that before," she blurts, crossing her arms.
Man, she folds like a cheap suit.
Only she really doesn't.
"All panicked like that," Katherine continues. "He hasn't grabbed anyone, that's for certain."
"And?"
"What if it means something?" She asks, glancing back to the door.
Dean frowns a bit and then shifts on his feet. "You think that was...a warning...for you?" She shrugs.
"Well he didn't grab anyone else, did he?"
"Katherine," Dean sighs, shaking his head. "You have no connection to Bill Carlton."
"Okay, but what if now that Bill's family's wiped out and Peter's not satisfied...what if he's like some vengeful spirit and will hurt anything he gets his hands on?" She challenges. "It's not exactly uncommon."
"No, it's not," Dean agrees. "But you know what everyone else don't have that you do?"
"An IQ of 304?"
"Me," Dean corrects, shaking his head. "You got me."
A furrow creases her brow. "No offense, Dean, but I'm confused."
"I promised you when I first brought you in to all of this, I'd protect you. My word ain't nothin'."
Katherine rubs the back of her neck, glancing back to the door, and moves for the sheriff's office.
"Just so I'm clear," Sheriff Devins begins, sitting on the edge of his desk. "You see something attack Bill's boat, sending Bill—who is a very good swimmer, by the way—into the drink, and you never see him again?"
"Ten-four," Katherine confirms.
He's still skeptical.
"And I'm supposed to believe this?"
"Well you weren't there, so yeah, hopefully." She raises a brow and sits back in her seat.
"Even though I've already sonar-swept the entire lake...and what you're describing is impossible...and you're not really with the wildlife service?" Dean frowns. "That's right, I checked. The department's never heard of the three of you."
"We're very low on the totem pole," Katherine says, making a gesture with her hand, lowering it to the armrest of her chair. "I started a few weeks ago."
Well, it's not a lie—
"Enough, please," she sheriff sighs, closing his eyes. "The only reason you are breathing free air is because one of Bill's neighbors saw him steering out that boat just before you did. So, we have a couple of options here: I can arrest you for impersonating government officials and hold you as material witnesses to Bill Carlton's disappearance...or we can chalk this all up to a bad day, you get into your car, you put this town in your rearview mirror, and you don't darken up my doorstep ever again."
Katherine pushes her lips out, holding very still under the man's intensely cold, rage-filled glare. Not even a smile could get her out of this one. Unusual...it didn't happen often. She could always charm her way out of something sticky. "Door number two sounds good," she quips at the same time Sam does. She would've smiled and shot him a look, but the sheriff is still glaring at her.
"That's the one I'd pick," he quietly says. "Go now."
The three hunters rise in unison and move outside. It's a two second drive up the street, and a quiet drive.
Dean shuts his door and gaze curiously at the teenager on the other side, emerging from the back seat, in the setting sun. He jingles his keys, frowning. She notices and returns the expression. "304?" He asks.
Then she releases a chuckle and starts for her motel room. Dean follows her. "304," she confirms, unlocking her door.
"You know, I thought super smart people are supposed to be geeky and socially awkward and not very attractive." He leans against the wall beside her door. Katherine slowly looks up from her lock, smiling lopsidedly, dimples on full show. He smiles back, tucking his hands into his pockets.
"Attractive, you say?"
"Of course that's the only thing you heard."
Katherine chuckles. "There is actually a positive correlation between intelligence and looks," she informs him, swinging her door open with a raised brow.
Dean can't tell if it's an invitation or just something she did.
She smiles, wiggles her key, and moves into her room. It doesn't take long for the trio to gather their belongings and pack them into the Impala. They hit the road after nightfall, Katherine voicing her discomfort with leaving the freaky lake unsolved, un-creatureified, un-ghostified, whatever.
"What if we filled hula hoops with salt?" Katherine asks, leaning forward on the front bench seat. Sam grins, twisting around to face her. "I mean it would definitely save salt if we just used the same hula hoop over and over again."
"How would we use it?" Dean scoffs, rolling to a stop as he stares up at the traffic light.
"We would lure a spirit or whatever, obviously, and wait until it gets close enough to throw the hoop around it. Boom bitch, you're trapped with a hula hoop." She smiles proudly, resting her chin in her palm. "I mean, it looks a little strange," she murmurs, eyes moving up to the stoplight. It flips to green, and Dean waits still. "I could go for a nice steak...what say you? Green, by the way." She nudges Dean's shoulder.
"Huh?"
"Light's green," she softly hums, gesturing up to the light. He turns right. "And the interstate is that-a-way," she says, her finger moving behind her as Dean turns.
"I know."
Katherine sits up straight. "We're going back into town?"
"Yup."
"The sheriff'll shoot us on sight," Sam states.
"Something doesn't feel right," Dean says.
"I think the job's over. If Bill murdered Peter Sweeney and Peter's spirit got its revenge, case closed. The spirit should be at rest."
"And what if this thing isn't done?" Dean challenges.
Katherine scratches her head. "More salt hula hoops?"
"We're not doing the salt hula hoops."
"Oh, come on! Put a little swivel in the hips."
"My hips have plenty of swivel," Dean scoffs. "And that is so not the point. The point is, I think we missed something, and when we miss something, people get hurt."
"Why would you think that?" Sam asks.
"Because Lucas was really scared," Dean tells him. Katherine lowers her gaze a bit.
"That's what this is about?"
"I just don't want to leave town without knowing the kid's okay."
Sam gawks. "Who are you, and what have you done with my brother?"
"Shut up." Dean sighs.
Katherine sits back in her seat and fiddles with her mother's ring as Dean speeds the fifteen minutes back into town, right to the sheriff's house. Around the block, anyway.
The three hunters creep up the street and into the sheriff's back lawn.
"Are you sure about this?" Sam questions, watching Katherine reach over to ring the doorbell with an exasperated expression.
"Wait in the car, then," she says, dropping her hand. "You were talking about it the whole ride back—" The door flies open and Lucas stands before the three, hyperventilating. "Whoa, Lucas—" The little boy turns around and bolts up the hall. "Lucas!" Katherine runs after him, up the stairs and to the left in the hall. She slips and cries out, catching herself on the wall. Lucas beats on the first door on the left, where the source of the slippery floors is coming from—overflowing something. Katherine moves Lucas out of the way, Dean kicks the door open.
It's a fluid transition, requiring no pre-planning or anything, just that connection some hunters have. A connection her family has shared with the Winchesters since her father met John when they were kids.
Katherine lets Lucas go, almost pushes him into Dean's arms as she surges to the overflowing bathtub. The water is the darkest brown and reeks of sediment. She throws her jacket to the side, pushes the sleeves of her sweater up, and thrusts her hands into the water, fingers searching for something. They tangle in something floating, and it makes her want to squirm—it's someone's hair.
Her fingers slip to the edges of the inside of the tub and wrap around shoulders, and she pulls. She even anchors her feet to get more leverage, but whoever this is is dead weight. Judging by the length of hair, it's Andrea. Katherine pulls up once more, and the woman surfaces, dark hair splayed over her fair face as she sucks in a deep breath. She's pushed back under by something much stronger than Katherine, and the girl cries out, losing her grip.
She shoves her arms deeper into the water and hooks them around Andrea's chest and waist, pulling once more—it's almost so strong, whatever holding Andrea in might suck her in too. "Someone grab me!" She shouts through gritted teeth. Sam surges forward and wraps his arms around Katherine's waist. "Pull!" He does, shoes slipping on the wood, and pulls again. Katherine collapses onto her back, Andrea over her, spitting water from her mouth. "You're okay," she sighs, hitting her head back on the floor. "You're okay."
If Dean hadn't turned back, Andrea would be dead. Both of Lucas' parents would be dead.
Sam moves a towel around Andrea and leads her down the hall, Lucas following after them. Dean looks to Katherine, still lying down in the water, staring up at the ceiling with a heaving chest. "Katherine?" He asks, a brief flash of panic rolling down his spine. "Katherine Louise."
"I'm fine," she says after a moment. Dean crosses over to her and shuts the water off. Katherine unplugs the drain and sits back against the rim of the tub. Her blue eyes are dazed as they stare ahead, almost vacant. Dean reaches up and grabs a towel before wrapping it around the girl's shoulders. She tucks her chin and pulls her knees to her chest. "For a minute there, I thought it was gonna pull me in, too," she murmurs. "And I was afraid for Lucas. What would've happened if we didn't show up when we did. If you didn't turn around." She looks to Dean and rolls her lips into her mouth. "I guess I can only be glad you were just as concerned as I was, because I sure as hell wasn't gonna say anything," she chuckles wryly, shaking her head once.
Sam appears around the corner, stepping through the water carefully. Katherine rises to her feet and drops her towel onto the ground, watching it instantly soak up the overflow. "How are they?" Dean asks.
"Shaken," Sam says, moving to the cupboard for more towels. That's all that happens for a while. Katherine reflects. Dean watches her. Sam thinks about the case. They all lay down towels over the water mess, throw them into the washer. It's silent. Andrea and Lucas must've fallen asleep.
And then it's daylight. No word from the sheriff.
Andrea comes downstairs where the hunters are still somehow working. Katherine and Sam are changing the load of towels over to the dryer. She talks to Sam while Katherine and Dean wait for Lucas and think to themselves, sometimes speaking aloud.
What in the hell does Andrea Bar have to do with Peter Sweeney?
"I got bupkis," Katherine mutters.
"Yeah, me too," Dean sighs and glances to her. "You okay, kid?"
"Yeah," she solemnly murmurs, blue eyes flitting distractedly everywhere but his face. He was half-expecting a punch. "Just thinkin'."
"Everyone's safe, you know," he says. "Lucas and Andrea."
"I know." She nods. Then Katherine sighs, leaning against the desk in the study. She moves back to the shelf and plucks a photo album. Dean watches her as she thumbs through it, and his eyebrows tilt as she flips past one titled 'Jake, 12 yrs old.' "What?" She asks.
"Nothin'."
Katherine flicks another page and stares at a picture. Her eyes widen and she slaps Dean on his arm with the back of her hand. "Check it out," she says, twisting the book towards him. "Peter Sweeney." She taps the boy's face and moves quickly for the hallway, to the day room, where Sam and Andrea are. "Andrea," she says, setting the book down in front of her. "Do any of these boys look familiar to you?"
The woman gazes over the photograph for a few seconds and shakes her head. "No...besides my father. He must've been about twelve..."
Katherine anxiously licks her lips and looks to the Winchesters. "Chris Bar's drowning—the connection wasn't to Bill Carlton, it was to the sheriff."
"Bill and the sheriff, both involved with Peter?" Sam questions.
"What about Chris?" Dean asks.
"What are you talking about?" Andrea asks, glancing between the three. Katherine's attention zeroes in on Lucas as he moves into the kitchen, dressed in his pajamas. He stares out of the window.
"Lucas?" Katherine asks, pushing herself off of the table. The sleeves to yesterday's clothes are still pushed up, dried all wrinkled. Her jeans are still uncomfortable and her thighs are cold from where the denim stuck. "Lucas, what is it?" He opens the back door and moves outside. The other four follow after him.
"Lucas, honey?" Andrea calls.
Katherine allows herself to feel whatever it is that may be in the area. Whatever Lucas may be feeling. But she gets nothing. She stands beside the boy as he stops in the beginning of the trees, just off of the path to the lake, and peers up at Katherine. "Why don't you get back in the house, okay?" Katherine says to him, looking out at the water. "Andrea, you too." The woman promptly collects her son and rushes back to the house. Katherine nudges the spot Lucas was standing on with the toe of her shoe. "Something's here," she tells the Winchesters.
"I've got shovels in the car," Dean says. Sam volunteers to grab them. "Katherine, are your spidey-senses tingling?"
"Hardly," she murmurs, looking out on the lake. Sam arrives with two shovels, and the boys dig until Dean strikes oil—a red bicycle, caked with mud all the way to the handlebars.
"Peter's bike," Sam breathes, and tugs up on the handlebars to lift it from the ground.
"Who are you?" Katherine stiffens upon hearing the hammer of a gun being pulled back directly behind her. It's the sheriff's voice—only a matter of time before he showed.
"Put that gun down, sheriff," she lowly says, staring at the Winchesters as their gazes flit between him and Katherine.
"How did you know that was there?" The sheriff asks.
"You and Bill killed Peter," Katherine begins, slowly turning around to look at him. "Drowned him in the lake, buried his bike?" She takes slow, small steps back to the Winchesters.
"You can't bury the truth, Jake," Dean says. "Nothin' stays buried."
"I don't know what the hell you're talking about."
"But you know something about the bike," Katherine protests. "Else you wouldn't have asked how we knew it was there." He turns the muzzle to face the girl, but she doesn't back down. It's not the first time she's been on the unfortunate end of a gun. "You and Bill killed Peter Sweeney thirty-five years ago—"
"Dad!" Andrea cries, rushing out of the house.
"—and now you've got one seriously pissed off spirit," Katherine continues. "And it's gonna take Andrea, and Lucas, and everyone you care about. It's gonna drown them, drag their bodies God-knows-where, just so you can feel the same pain Peter's mother felt. And after that, it's gonna take you, and it's not gonna stop until it does."
"And how do you know that?"
"I have an IQ of 304," she says with a smile. "And that's exactly what it did to Bill Carlton. I'm good at puzzles."
"Listen to yourself!" The sheriff cries. "You're insane."
"Perhaps," Katherine agrees. "But that doesn't really matter now, does it? Because we're gonna take this spirit down no matter what. Taking it down includes finding the remains, salting and burning them—please tell me you buried Peter. Or did you just let 'em go in the lake?"
"Dad, is any of this true?" Andrea asks.
"No," The sheriff says. "Don't listen to her. They're all liars, and they're dangerous."
"Can't argue with him on that," Katherine mutters.
"Something tried to drown me," Andrea says. "Chris died on that lake. Dad, look at me! Tell me you didn't kill anyone."
Silence. And the gun lowers.
"Billy and I were at the lake. Peter was the smallest one—we always bullied him, but...this time, it got rough. We were holding his head under the water. We didn't mean to, but we held him under too long...and he drowned. We let the body go, and it sank."
Katherine sighs and glances to the brothers. "Okay, listen to me," Dean says. "We need to get you all as far away from this lake—"
"Lucas!"
The three hunters look behind them as the sheriff cries out. Lucas is kneeling by the water's edge, on the dock. Katherine breaks into a sprint, passing the sheriff. "Lucas!" She shouts. "Lucas, stay where you are!" The toe of her shoe catches on a tree knot and she stumbles, but quickly regains her footing, and continues forward with the Winchesters right behind her. As they break the treeline, Lucas is found not on the dock anymore, but in the water. The sheriff freezes up, but everyone else blows right past him. Katherine's eyes scan the water, looking for ripples or any other sign as to where Lucas might be.
The top of a little boy's head surfaces, but it isn't Lucas. The skin is blue, and the eyes are frighteningly cold.
Katherine bounds down the dock and is the first to dive into the water. She can't see anything under the surface, but she keeps her eyes open. It stings, messes with her contacts. She can't tell if they've fallen out or not, but it isn't at the forefront of her mind.
She briefly registers the muffled tone of Sam's voice as she looks beneath her, head whipping around in slow-motion in the water. She moves her arms to force herself down. More looking. But oxygen is quickly spent, and she has to resurface.
She definitely can't see normally.
"Kat?" Dean shouts.
"Nothing!" She rubs at her burning eyes, grimacing.
"Sam?!"
Katherine dives underneath the surface without waiting for a response. She swims out further without resurfacing and scans. Something floats just ahead, and she moves towards it, thinking it's Lucas, or Bill or Sophie Carlton.
But it's the boy with the blue skin and horrifying eyes. It's Peter.
Her blood runs cold and adrenaline spikes, sending a shock up her spine. Katherine pushes herself away as fast as she can, but he grips her ankle and pulls her back. She's surprised it's strong enough to hold her in place, and somewhere in the back of her mind, she wonders if all spirits are strong once they die. He drags her deeper and deeper, struggling against her panic until she stops writhing, only halfway conscious. Across the way, she watches Peter move to Jake.
Dean resurfaces with Lucas. The sheriff has gone under.
"Where's Katherine?" Dean asks, pushing his hair back from his face. Sam only stares at him, cold dread filling his veins. "Take Lucas!" Sam swims for the dock with Lucas in his arm. "Katherine." Dean turns around, looking for a floating mass of blonde hair in the water. Maybe she went further out. "Katherine!" He dives back under and looks for her hair.
It's off a ways, and sinking. He swims fast and hard, diving deeper, resisting his body's screams for oxygen, fingers reaching long and arm stretching hard to grab her. Finally, his arm loops around her waist and he frantically kicks to the surface. Once above, he barely registers how far out they are from the dock, and he makes sure to keep Katherine's head up as he swims the best he can with one arm back to the shore. Sam lifts her up onto the wood and drops her onto her side. Water spills easily from her mouth. Dean rolls her back over and starts chest compressions. He's surprised at how easily the human chest depresses. A terrifying thought crosses his mind that maybe she's already dead—
Water is forced from Katherine's lungs and out onto the deck. Her skin is warm still. "Come on, come on!" Two rescue breaths, right? "Breathe, Kat, c'mon!" He watches her face as he compresses. He doesn't panic—not like Sam. He doesn't feel the ice-cold of it. Only urgency.
He promised her.
He promised him.
Katherine's chest lurches on its own, and Dean stops immediately. Her brow furrows and she coughs; the brothers roll her onto her side immediately, where she then gets to her hands and knees and heaves, her forehead resting on the dock. "Come on, ol' girl," Dean sighs, sitting back on his legs. "That's it."
Katherine wipes at her mouth, a choked sob escaping her lips as she collapses sideways onto Sam's lap. "God, that's disgusting," she mutters, coughing still. "Yeeaahh...they don't show that in the movies." She opens her eyes to look at Dean, a breathy laugh escaping her lips. Her red lipstick from the day before, still not wiped off through the events of the evening, is now smeared across her mouth.
"Anyone ever tell you you look like a clown?" Dean says to her. The girl chuckles, closing her eyes as she rests her head in Sam's lap.
Sam's lap.
"Lucas?"
"He's safe," Dean assures her.
"Where's the sheriff?"
Silence.
✕
"I never drowned before."
Dean watches Katherine fiddle with the car keys at the breakfast table. They're waiting for the check, then they're gonna check on the Bars—all two of them—and hit the road.
"Drowning," he murmurs. "What was that like?"
"Awful," she tells him immediately. "It...it felt like my lungs were on fire."
"How, though...how did it happen?"
"I swam out thinking Lucas may have drifted by then...and I swam towards what I thought was him, but...it was Peter. And he dragged me back." She shakes her head. "Maybe because we were trying to help...I dunno. But he held me there long enough. It...went against every instinct in my body. Holding off the urge to breathe for another second at a time...I thought my head was going to explode. And when I finally couldn't do it anymore, when I breathed in, it...it was indescribable. Coughing, inhaling, coughing..." She frowns a little. "Then I wake up and I see your ugly mug."
"I think I saved your life, regardless of mug."
Katherine shifts into his side immediately, wrapping her arms around his waist. "I know," she whispers. "And thank you."
He offers her a small smile, but she doesn't see it. "Told you I wouldn't let anything happen to you."
"Dean, the way hugs work, it's usually reciprocated by the other person."
"I don't do hugs."
"Of course you don't," she grumbles, quickly dropping her arms from him. "You sure do have a habit of making things awkward, don't you?" Dean smiles and drapes an arm around her shoulders. "I think you still have some lipstick on you."
"Yeah, well, the next time I kiss you, you'd better be conscious," he tells her.
Katherine's cheeks burn as she wipes the corner of her mouth. Next time.
She smiles a little and faces forward, jingling the car keys once more. Sam emerges from the bathroom just as the check is dropped off. Dean pays with cash, and the three head back up the street, where they find Lucas and Andrea waiting by the Impala.
"We were hoping to catch you before you left," Andrea tells the hunters, resting her hands on Lucas' shoulders. "Lunch for the road. Lucas insisted on making sandwiches himself."
"Can I give it to them now?" Lucas whispers, looking up to Andrea. The hunters smile at the same time.
"Of course."
"Let's go load 'em up in the car, huh?" Dean suggests. Lucas nods, looking to Katherine. She smiles and follows after the two. "You can't hog these," he says to Katherine as he sits the platter in the back.
"I'm offended." She shifts the platter over and sits down, feet still on the concrete.
"Lucas, if you're gonna be talking now, there's one thing you need to say on a daily basis," Dean says. "It's very important, all right?" Lucas nods. "'Zeppelin rules.'"
"Oh, God," Katherine groans.
"Zeppelin rules!" Lucas cheers.
"All right, up high," Dean says, and Lucas' small palm slaps against Dean's much larger one. "You take care of your mom, okay?" He asks, rising to his feet. Katherine's gaze shifts to an approaching Andrea and Sam—and Andrea kisses Dean. Katherine's eyebrows shoot up and she looks to Lucas.
"You don't have to say that, you know," she tells him, tapping her thumb and pinky in an alternating rhythm on her knee. Lucas smiles, moving forward, and hugs her around her neck. Katherine lets out a soft chuckle, wrapping her arm around him and rests her hand on his back.
She wonders about her youngest brother, Dylan. What he would've looked like at his age now—seven. Maybe Lucas' age.
"Kat, move your ass," Dean says, shifting around the corner. "We're gonna lose daylight before we even hit the road."
"It's ten AM," Katherine says, still hugging Lucas with closed eyes. "Shut up." Lucas giggles and she smiles, releasing him from her hold. "Be good, Lucas." He nods, moving away from the car, and waves to her. Katherine waves back, swinging her legs inside the car, and shuts the door after her. She leans forward, arms resting on the bench seat as she looks at Dean.
"Kids are the best, huh?" She asks.
Dean grins. "The best."
Y'all.
I love and appreciate your comments. Truly. But for the love of Pete, sTOP making snarky comments about the plausibility of a girl having an IQ of 304 and using Einstein as your baseline. I mean you're reading a FANFICTION about a TV SHOW that follows two brothers fighting things like FAIRIES and VAMPIRES AND WEREWOLVES.
So. It's a fan fiction. If I want Katherine Louise to have a goblin nose and unicorn hooves for feet dammit she'll have them. If I want her to have an IQ of 304 and be awesome then she will be. If it annoys you so much, kindly exit stage left, because she doesn't get any dumber.
Xoxo,
Gossip Goat