"You're back early," Larry states, appraising the three hunters.

Katherine takes shelter from the rain underneath Sam's umbrella, her fingers fastened to his jacket sleeve, as she looks over the two-story to their left. "We wanted to take another look at the neighborhood," she tells Larry, then nods to the coroner's van. "What's going on?"

Thunder echoes across the gray skies. Katherine always enjoyed the rain storms in Florida. They were usually short-lived, but boy if someone didn't piss a God off. 

"You met Linda Bloom at the barbecue?" He asks. Katherine's eyes shift to the coroner and a police officer lifting a black body back into the back of the van. 

"The realtor," she recalls.

"Well, she...passed away last night."

"What happened?" Sam asks.

"I'm still trying to find out. I identified the body for the police..." He hesitates, glancing to the house. "Look, I'm sorry, but this isn't a good time."

"No, no, we understand," Katherine says, nodding, and Larry excuses himself to the front porch of the home. 

"You know what we have to do, right?" Dean asks.

"Get in that house," she murmurs, nodding once more. "We can pull the car around the other side of the street and hit it through the back. I saw a fence that looked tall enough to climb up into the house."

"We don't need a fence," Dean almost scoffs.

"Well I'm sorry not all of us are half giant," she says, eyeing the Winchesters, and moves for the car.

"How tall are you anyway?" Dean asks her. "Five-four?"

"Ha, ha," she sourly says, opening the door. "I'm five-nine."

The minute the cops leave, Katherine is leading the charge up the fence. "I can give you a hand," Dean says. She eyes the fence with pursed lips. What is it, nine feet? Sam can easily pull himself over that. Dean raises his eyebrows and Katherine sighs. 

"No more height jokes. I'm really not small." Dean interlocks his fingers and she carefully places her boot on the platform he's made for her. "When I was eleven years old and 5'4", I was being made fun of. Now I'm a tall young woman—" she grunts, pulling her weight up onto the narrow top of the fence. "—and being made fun of by freaking...a personification of Orthanc."

Dean frowns. "What the hell's an Orthanc?"

"Dude, Lord of the Rings," she sighs, carefully creeping to the window. "The tower of Isengard?" Dean shrugs and pulls himself up. "You are so uncultured."

The window leads right into the bedroom, and judging by the placement of electrical tape, this is where Linda was found. 

The bathroom door is open, the carpet and tiles are smeared with blood, and the shower door is broken, glass scattered about. Dean moves into the bathroom and glances around at the floor. When he moves the towel, a couple of dead spiders fall out, and Katherine stiffens, pulling out her knife. "Relax, Indiana Jones. What, are you gonna stab 'em to death?"

"I was going to throw my knife at a spider, yes," Katherine says. "You think Matt did this?"

"Maybe," Sam says. 

"So what's the motive?"

"I say we go find out," Dean says. 

It's easier climbing down the fence. She tries not to get shaky as she lowers herself down—because really it's only fifteen feet and it shouldn't scare her so much to be a bit higher off of the ground.

"The guy should be getting out of school soon," Katherine hums. "I saw a sign for the bus stop up at the front of the neighborhood, by that big mound of dirt?" She tucks her hands into her jacket. 

They roll up near the bus stop just as Matt is getting off of the bus.

"Hey," Dean grunts. "Isn't his house the other way?"

"Yeah..."

"So where's he going?"

"Maybe to a friend's house," Katherine suggests, then glances around at the ghost town of a new development. "Just kidding." She sighs as the boys climb out of the car, and she follows quickly after. 

He doesn't go far into the woods, but Katherine keeps her distance—the Two Towers between her and that bug Matt's got on his hand. She very well can't look over Dean's shoulder, so she stands halfway behind him. 

"What are you doing here?" Matthew asks, glancing between the three hunters. 

"We want to talk to you," Dean says. 

"You're not here to buy a house, are you? Wait...you're not serial killers..."

Katherine gives him a tight smile. "If that bug comes anywhere near me, all bets are off."

"Ignore her," Dean says. "I do."

"And you usually end up in craptastic situations," she retorts. "But no, we're not serial killers."

Matt's eyes flit between Katherine and Sam for a moment. Then he realizes she's standing behind Dean. "Well, are you married, even?"

"Personal question," Katherine evades, putting a hand up. "The answer is also no. Don't go spreading that little rumor." She smiles. "So...you know a lot about insects, I gather," she says, shifting a little uncomfortably as she stares at the long bug on Matt's hand. 

"So?"

"Did you hear about what happened to Linda?"

"I heard she died this morning."

"Spider bites," Katherine confirms with a nod.

"Matt," Sam begins. "You tried to scare her with a spider."

"Wait," Matt scoffs. "You think I had something to do with that?"

"You tell us," Dean says. 

"That tarantula was a joke! Anyway, that wouldn't explain the bee attack or the gas company guy."

Katherine's eyes harden. "You know about those?"

"There is something going on here. I don't know what, but something's happening with the insects." He stares at the hunters for a moment, almost pondering something. "Let me show you something." Katherine takes a cautionary step backwards, watching him carefully as he collects his bag and strolls past the hunters.

"You could look a little less suspicious," Sam tells her.

"The kid has a nine foot bug on his arm," she hisses, starting after him. "No way I trust anyone with that kind of composure!"

"You dig up dead bodies," Dean softly retorts.

"Correction, I dig up bones," she says, walking alongside him. "Bones don't move, they don't bite, and they don't fly."

"If you knew about all of this bug stuff, why not tell your dad?" Sam asks Matt. "Maybe he could clear everybody out."

"Believe me, I've tried," Matt scoffs. "But Larry doesn't listen to me."

"First-name basis," Katherine hums. "Ouch."

She knows all about that.

"Mostly, he's too disappointed in his freak son," Matt continues. 

"I hear ya," Sam hums.

Dean's eyes flit to the back of his brother's head. "You do?"

"Matt, how old are you?"

"Sixteen."

"Well don't sweat it, 'cause in two years, something great's gonna happen."

"What?"

"College. You'll be able to get out of that house and away from your dad."

"What kind of advice—" Katherine clamps her hand over Dean's mouth, and he turns to glare his coldest at her. She shakes her head.

"Not here," she murmurs. "How much further, Matt?" She calls, slowly moving her hand from Dean's face. "Kind of feel like you're taking us to Aragog."

Matt chuckles. "We're close. And believe me—this is freakier than Aragog."

Katherine's eyes bug and she digs her heels into the ground. "Absolutely—" Dean drags her forward. The worst part is, she can't resist much. "Just because you're fifty feet bigger than I am in every aspect of the word doesn't mean you can drag me around—"

"It's just a bug."

"We don't know what he's taking us to," Katherine hisses.

"Stop fideting or I'm carrying you."

Katherine smirks and yanks back once more; Dean has her by the jacket and quickly pulls her forward and onto his back. She grins and locks her arms around his neck. "Less walking for me," she hums. "The air's kinda nice up here." He doesn't laugh. Katherine rests her chin on Dean's head.

"If you mess up my hair, so help me—"

"Relax, Cher Horowitz."

"So you're afraid of bugs and heights. How very teenager of you."

"I have no shame in my aversions to certain things," she says, tightening her arms around his neck a little. "What about you?"

His smile is impossible to miss, especially from her side angle. His eyes crinkle and his cheeks pull high. "I'm not afraid of anything."

Katherine rolls her eyes. "Yeah, right. I'll figure it out sooner or later."

"I've been keeping track of insect population," Matt calls, stepping into a small clearing. "It's part of my AP science class."

"Are you in environmental?" Katherine asks. Matt nods. "I took that."

"So you're all peas in a pod," Dean dryly hums. 

"What's been happening?" Sam asks, clearly ignoring Dean.

"A lot," Matt answers. "I mean, from bees to earthworms, beetles...you name it. It's like they're congregating here."

"Why?" Dean asks. Katherine slides down his back and onto the ground, and she carefully begins to inspect. 

"I don't know," Matt replies.

Katherine points to a large mound with a stick, darker grass than the rest of the forest. "You see that?"

"I see a worm on that stick," Dean says, moving to stand beside her. "I dare you to eat it."

"That's disgusting," she hums, wiggling the stick to rid it of the worm. "I'm talking about that weird pile over there." She takes one large step forward and continues to said weird pile with everyone else following. 

She stands before the circle of worms with a frown and moves them to the side. A hole appears, caving in, and Dean gently nudges her. "Dean, if you push me, so help me God," she threatens, raising a cautionary finger. She pulls her flashlight from her jacket pocket and shines it down into the hole, moving the dirt around with her stick. "Oh, holy Hell."

"What?"

Everyone leans forward as she produces a human skull on the edge of her stick. 

"We should call the police," Matt says.

"No!" Katherine drops the skull and turns to him. "No, that's the last thing we want to do. Go home, don't breathe a word of this to anyone."

"But—"

"If we need to tell you something, we will," she promises, glancing to the mantis on his arm. "So, uh...not a peep. We need to do some work." Matt nods after glancing to Sam and hurries off. Dean pushes Katherine, holding her by the elbows, and she gasps, gripping onto his jacket. "Dean!" She hits his shoulder and moves away from him as he laughs. "It's not even remotely funny." She drops her stick and moves in the direction from whence they came.

"Where are we going?"

"We're taking that skull somewhere," she says. "Stay here."

She returns ten minutes later with Dean's empty cassette box. Dean unearthed two more skulls, put them in the box, and went back to the house they were occupying, per Katherine's instruction. She made a few calls and set up an appointment at the nearest university with an anthropology professor to get a potential ID on the bones, maybe a brief history, if it could be managed.

Everyone had trouble sleeping that night. 

"So that kid back there," Dean begins, keeping an eye on Katherine as she walks carefully up the sidewalk ahead of the brothers. He took the box from her, though her jacket is still draped over the top. "How could you tell him to just ditch his family like that?"

"I just know what the kid's going through," Sam reasons. 

"How about telling him to respect his old man? How's that for advice?"

"Dean, come on," Sam sighs. "This isn't about his old man. You don't think I respected Dad. That's what this is about."

"Just forget it," Dean mutters, glancing to Katherine. She's waiting underneath the building's overhang, all of her weight on one leg. "Sorry I brought it up."

"I respected him," Sam says. "But no matter what I did, it was never good enough."

"What, are you saying Dad was disappointed in you?"

"Was?" Sam scoffs. "Is. Always has been."

"Why would you think that?"

"Because I didn't want to bow hunt, or hustle pool. Because I wanted to go to school and live my life, which in our whacked-out family made me the freak." Sam looks to Katherine, and she gazes back at the brothers curiously. Then she continues into the building—better to let siblings be siblings than constantly get between them.

"Yeah, you were kinda like the blonde chick in The Munsters," Dean hums, nodding. 

Sam isn't in the mood. "Dean, you know what most dads are when their kids score a full ride? Proud. Most dads don't toss their kids out of the house."

Dean nods. "I remember that fight. In fact, I seem to recall a few choice phrases coming out of your mouth."

Sam takes a deep breath, shaking his head. "You know, when we actually do find Dad, I don't even know if he's gonna want to see me."

"Sam, Dad was never disappointed in you," Dean earnestly tells him. "Never. He was scared."

"What are you talking about?"

"He was afraid of what could've happened to you if he wasn't around. Even when you two weren't talking, he used to swing by Stanford whenever he could. Keep an eye on you, make sure you were safe."

Sam blinks, shaking his head at the revelation. Dean might as well have been speaking Cantonese. "What?"

"Yeah," Dean murmurs. 

"Why didn't he tell me any of that?"

"It's a two-way street, dude. You could've picked up the phone." Dean sits there for a moments lancing over the the doors. "C'mon. Kat's impatient and we're probably already late for the appointment she set up."

Katherine's pretty blue eyes appraise the brothers as they walk into the building, a few moments apart, and she turns on her heel with a small smile. 

"So you're students?" 

"Yes, sir," Katherine says to the ancient professor, watching Dean set the box up on his desk. "We're in your class, actually. Anthro 101."

"Oh, yes." She smiles a bit. "I'll go take a look at them now. Shouldn't be long. I'll figure it out soon, what with the information you emailed me." Katherine turns to the brothers and waits as the professor analyzes the bones over in the corner of the auditorium. 

It's dead silent as they watch the professor work. But after a while, the silence makes her uncomfortable.

"I'm starving," she proclaims. "And I'm feeling especially lucky today, so I say we hit up a bar, play a bit of pool, grab a bite..." She raises her brows, rolling her head to look at Dean.

"I like the way you think." 

"Now...this is quite an interesting find you've made," the professor hums, walking back over to his desk. "I'd say these are...a hundred seventy years old, give or take. The, uh...time frame and geography heavily suggest Native American."

"Were there any tribes or reservations on that land?" Sam asks.

"Not according to the historical record. But, the relocation of native peoples was quite common at the time."

"Well are there any local legends?" Katherine asks. "Oral histories?"

"Well," he sighs. "You know, there's a Euchee tribe in Sapulpa. It's about sixty miles from here—someone out there might know the truth. Look for Joe Whitetree."

"Right," Katherine hums. "Thanks a lot, Sir." Katherine scoops the box up and the three head outside the auditorium. 

Dean makes the drive in an hour and a half, considering the stop for fuel and food, and the people there are friendly enough to direct the newcomers right to Joe.

He's a small man with long, silver hair littered with dark strands in two pigtails hanging over his shoulders. His expression, the deep lines in his russet skin, remind Katherine of her childhood best friend's great-grandfather. She only met him a handful of times, when she wasn't yet in double digits. He passed away when she was eight years old. 

Katherine remembers, with great fondness, his stories, and how he always smelled like soap and leather, and he always had those long ponytails. She would braid them as a child with her friend Gina. She remembers screaming the first time Poppa Alfred—that's what everyone called him—popped his dentures out. It was practical joke that scarred her for life.

"Joe Whitetree?" Katherine asks. He looks up from his card game and nods, dark eyes warmly gazing at her. "We'd like to ask you a few questions, if that's all right."

"We're students from the University," Dean begins.

"No you're not," Joe says. "You're lying."

Katherine swallows and Dean glances over his shoulder at the two Nerds in a Pod for some backup. "Uh...well, the truth is—"

"You know who starts sentences with 'the truth is'? Liars."

"Have you heard of Oasis Plains?" Katherine asks. "It's a housing development near the Atoka Valley."

Joe looks up and stares at Dean, then Katherine. "I like her," he says. "She's not a liar." He looks back to Katherine and invites her to sit before him. She glides between the Winchesters and sits in the unoccupied booth bench. "I know the area."

"Can you tell us anything about the history there?"

"Why do you want to know?"

Katherine twiddles her fingers. "Something bad is happening there," she tells him. "And we think it might have something to do with some old bones we found buried there. Native American bones."

The elder presses his lips together and exhales through his nose, those warm dark eyes lifting to hers again. "I'll tell you what my grandfather told me," he says. "What his grandfather told him. 200 years ago, a band of my ancestors lived in that valley. One day, the American cavalry came to relocate them. They were resistant. Calvary impatient. As my grandfather put it, "On a night the moon and the sun shared the sky as equals," the cavalry first raided our village. They murdered, raped. The next day, the cavalry came again, and the next, and the next. And on the sixth night, the cavalry came one last time, and by the time the sun rose, every man, woman, and child still in the village was dead." 

Katherine feels the brothers glance to her, but she doesn't remove her eyes from the old man before her. 

"They say on the sixth night, as the village chief lay dying, he whispered to the Heavens that no white man would ever tarnish this land again. Nature would rise up and protect the valley, and it would bring as many days of misery and death to the white man as the cavalry had brought upon his people."

"Six days," Katherine hums.

"And on the night of the sixth day, none would survive," Joe tells her. Katherine looks to the Winchesters, back to Joe, and smiles her warmest.

"Thank you for your time," she tells him. Then she taps the rightmost column of cards. "That's your next move."

The man smiles, looking down to the cards, and Katherine gets to her feet and exits the cafe with the Winchester brothers.

"Why did he like you so much?" Dean asks.

"'Cause I'm prettier than the both of you combined," Katherine tells him, pushing the sleeves of her henley up to her elbows. "When did the gas company man die?"

"Well, we got here on Tuesday," Dean murmurs. "So...Friday, the twentieth."

"The spring equinox," Sam says. Katherine stops.

"Oh, man," she moans, and not in the good way.

"What's your deal?" Dean asks.

"The spring equinox," she repeats, setting forward again with a bit more urgency in her step. "'The night the moon and the sun share the sky as equals?'"

Sam scoffs. "So every year, about this time, everyone in Oasis Plains is in danger. Larry built his neighborhood on cursed land."

"And the sixth night is tonight," Katherine says. "And if we don't do anything, Larry's family will be dead by sunrise."

"So how do we break a curse?" Sam asks.

"You don't," Katherine tells him, opening the passenger door of the Impala. "You get out of its way."

"We've got to get those people out," Dean agrees. 

Even with Dean driving like a bat out of hell, nearly killing everyone in the car, they don't make it back to Oasis Plains before the sun sets. So Dean moves swiftly to Plan A. He calls the Pikes and informs them that there's a leak in the gas pipe. Katherine's used that one before, especially with an unruly poltergeist and she needed more than a few hours to get rid of the thing. It usually worked quite well.

Usually.

It backfired. Dean used the name Travis Weaver, the name of the man who lead the hunters to the sink hole in the first place, and Larry knew Travis.

Time for Plan B. 

Sam grabbed the phone and made another call to Matt. "Well make him listen—!"

"Give me the phone," Katherine demands in a panic, reaching into the backseat for Dean's phone . "Matt, it's Katherine."

"Hi," he breathes.

"Hi. Matt, under no circumstances are you to tell the old man the truth, all right? He'll just think you're nuts. Tell him you have a sharp pain in your right side, and you need to go to the hospital. Okay? Specifically, the lower right side."

"Okay," Matt says.

"Okay," Katherine repeats, nodding. "We'll be there as soon as we can," she says, looking to the watch on her right wrist. It's already late evening, past eleven, and there's another hour and a half to go. She hangs up and hands the phone back to Dean. "Hey, Sam?"

"Yeah."

"Don't tell a panicking kid to make their parent listen," Katherine tells him. "In my experience, it backfires pretty horrendously."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean they usually end up dead." Dean glances to the girl sitting on the other side of the seat, his gaze quietly imploring. "A demon, in case you're wondering," she murmurs. 

The Pikes are still home when the hunters arrive. "Do we have a Plan C?" Dean asks.

"Improvise, Adapt, Overcome?" Katherine suggests, climbing out of the car.

"Oo-friggin-rah."

She smiles, jamming her hands into her utility jacket pockets, and hurries up the driveway. She's met with a very angry Larry Pike.

"Get off my property before I call the cops!"

"Dad, they're just trying to help," Matt says from behind him.

"Mister Pike?" Katherine says, raising an appeasing hand as her gaze shifts to Larry. 

"Get in the house!" Larry snaps at his son.

The hunters look to Matt. "Sorry," he says. "I told him the truth." 

Katherine's eyes blow wide and she drops her hands to her sides. "I give him the perfect excuse and he doesn't use it. We had a plan, Matt--what happened?"

"Look, it's 12 AM," Sam says. "They're coming any minute. You need to get your family and go, before it's too late."

"Oh, yeah, you mean before the biblical swarm."

"Larry, what do you think really happened to Linda, huh?" Dean questions. "And the gas company guy? You don't think something weird's going on?"

"I don't know who you are, but you're crazy."

"Crazy genius," Katherine says, nodding. "There's a legitimate—"

"You come near my boy or my family again—"

"Things are gonna be sticky, yeah," Katherine nods again. "But I hate to be the rain on this beautiful moonlit night, but helloooo!" She waves her hands around. "Things are already sticky!"

"Dad, they're right," Matt says. "We're in danger—"

"Matt, get inside—now!"

"Why won't you listen to me?!"

"This is crazy! It doesn't make sense!"

"This land is cursed," Katherine says, taking a step towards Larry. "A lot of people have died here, and everyone in this place is gonna be dead before the sun comes up! Are you really gonna take that risk with your family?"

Dean nudges her. "Kat."

She looks at him with blazing blue eyes, but now that she's quiet, she can hear it. It's buzzing. The air is thick—and then something crackles on the front porch. The bug lamp.

"Do you hear that?" Sam asks, looking to Larry.

"What the hell..."

"Okay," Katherine says, her voice a few octaves higher than usual. "Okay, time to go. Get your wife, we're leaving."

"Guys," Matt calls, looking out into the tree line. 

"Oh, God," Katherine squeaks, afraid to turn. But she does. And she hates herself for it. 

A biblical swarm it is indeed. Seemingly every bug on the face of the earth is flying up and over the tree line, heading right for the hunters. And the more bugs, the darker that cloud gets, blocking out the bright light of the moon. 

"Everybody in the house," Dean orders. Katherine doesn't hesitate, breaking into a sprint ahead of the brothers.

"Is there anyone else in the neighborhood?" Katherine asks.

Larry shakes his head. "No, it's just us."

"Honey?" Joanie asks, appearing from down the hall in her night clothes. "What's going on? What's that noise?"

"Call 911."

Joanie rushes back down the hall. "I need towels," Dean says, moving towards Larry. 

"We're locking the place up," Katherine says, tugging on Matt's jacket. "Doors, windows, fireplace—everything. C'mon."

"The phones are dead!" Joanie calls.

Katherine moves for the downstairs appliances, sealing off the fireplace by pulling the hook up the shaft, and she locks all of the doors and windows, draws the blinds and drapes. She flips the lights on, but they die out almost a second later.

"Electricity's out," she calls, moving up the hall. "What, did they already chew through the lines?"

"Must have," Dean says, tossing a few towels at her.

"God, I hate bugs, " she mutters, moving for the back door. 

The interior of the house gets darker and darker as unidentified bugs plaster themselves against the exposed windows and glass pieces. The buzzing sound is overwhelming.

"What do we do now?" Larry asks.

"We try to outlast it," Sam says. Katherine rests her head against the wall, and Dean recognizes she's repeating a prayer over and over again, almost silently. Dean moves into the kitchen in search of bugspray. By the time he returns, Katherine isn't up against the wall anymore, but staring down the crowding windows. 

It's relatively calm for a while. Everyone stewing in their own silence, wondering how in the hell they outlast this. Lamb blood, Katherine ruefully thought to herself. Oh wait—this is Native American. Sike.

And then the creaking starts.

"What's that?" Joanie asks.

Katherine slowly turns to the fireplace and focuses her careful ear to it. "Oh, God."

"What?"

"They're bunching at the flute," she murmurs. "Everyone get upstairs." And then the dam breaks, letting in a swarm of pissed off bees. She usually didn't mind bees, but these ones are exceptionally obese bees. 

And Dean has turned the can of bug spray into a miniature flamethrower. "Everyone upstairs, now!"

One stings Katherine in the forehead before she realizes they've gotten near her. And then the back of her neck. She shoves everyone upstairs before her, her heart beating like a jackhammer in her throat, and she drags Dean up the stairs by the collar of his jacket. 

They all move into the attic, and before the swarm of nasty bees can follow them--before they can sting the two laggers any more, Sam snaps the door shut.

Katherine collapses onto her back with a sour expression. "I freaking hate bugs," she pronounces, swatting at a circling bee. Dean sets it aflame. "Thanks."

Their peace is short-lived. They get about fifteen minutes of sitting in silence—though it was probably longer—before part of the ceiling pops in and in swarms another herd of bees. A quick glance to Katherine's watch indicated it was past three in the morning. Time sure does fly when you're trying not to die.

Dean utilizes his makeshift flamethrower and Katherine and Sam scour for something to board the ceiling up with. She beats the panel off of the circuit board on the wall and hands it to Sam, swatting around her face, picks up a balance beam, and jams the metal panel between the flow of bees and the beam.

The bee stings are a given. And hell do they hurt.

And then another hole breaks through the ceiling.

"I am not dying from bugs!" Katherine shouts. 

"I'm all out of juice!" Dean cries. 

Sam has moved to protect the Pikes. 

And then the metal panel comes down again.

"I am so dying from bugs," Katherine croaks. She slams the board up into the ceiling again and angles the post, swatting at her neck the whole time. Dean drags her to the corner, where everyone else is, and shoves her head under his jacket with him. 

They stay huddled like that for God knows how long, enduring the stings on their exposed backs and through their clothing, on their hands. 

And then they stop.

Katherine is the first to open her eyes. "Am I dead?" She breathes, half of her body numb from keeping crouched. 

She thinks she once read somewhere the average adult could bear a thousand bee stings.

She must've been over that threshold.

She grunts, slapping at her cheek as something stings her. But the rest of the bees are gone. "It's morning?"

Within half an hour, Larry was making a call on his cell phone for a moving truck. The hunters went back to the Squatting House and tidied up.

"Even with half of your face swollen, you're the prettiest girl—"

"Not. Now." Katherine pronounces, analyzing her reflection in the mirror. Dean smirks, leaning against the door behind her. "And my face isn't even that bad," she defends, gazing at the few welts across her cheekbone and forehead. Her back hurts the worst, then the ones on her hands, and her neck. She has one on her lower lip, which Dean said he'd be happy to kiss better. She flashed him her middle finger and went to check on Sam. She decided against wearing her usual necklaces, and Sam made a joke that he'd never seen all of her neck. "Well, I'm The Girl With The Green Ribbon," she retorted.

When the hunters showed face at the Pike home, the family was nearly done packing the essentials. Larry remarked they would've been gone before the end of the hour.

And Katherine's fear of bugs grew to the realm of all bees. Especially the fat ones that seemed to mind their own business.