Hi, everyone! I've been working on my pre-series sis fic Growing Up, Winchester Style for awhile now and I thought I would try my hand at writing my character Kate into actual episodes. I decided to start with Season 2, Episode 1 to mix things up.

Huge thank you to ispiltthemilk, sweetkiwi604, and SPNxBookworm for their encouragement and support! Don't forget to check out all of their stories, because they are AMAZING!

Please give me your feedback and let me know if you think I should continue and what things you liked/didn't like about this chapter. All reviews, good and bad, are greatly appreciated as they help me improve as a writer :)


My eyes shot open and jolted around the room. I had no idea where I was. My breathing started to increase as the panic settled in. I looked around the room and all I saw were pale white walls and a dark blue clock hanging on the wall in front of me. I squinted as hard as I could to see what time it was, but my eyes refused to cooperate as they were still adjusting. I shifted a little in the bed, as I tried to get up. I felt some pain in my back, which was nothing new. Sleeping on those crappy hotel mattress for 19 years really took a toll on my body. Wow, that made me sound like an old lady. Just to clarify—I was not an old lady. Even though my brothers Sam and Dean had been known to call me that on occasion because I was a fan of getting 8 hours of sleep. Screw them, I was in fact 19 years YOUNG and apparently I was running low on power. Two attempts later and I finally managed to get the cover completely off of me.

As I went to slowly sit up, I felt something pull at my arm. What the hell? An IV? Ugh, I hate IVs. I was going to kill whoever gave consent for them to jab a piece of metal into my arm, because I sure as hell didn't approve. Wait…an IV, plain white walls…was there a draft in this room? I reached around to touch the small of my back and realized it was just out there in the open. Oh gosh, first an IV and now a giant sized hospital gown? And they didn't even tie it right. Someone was clearly failing at their job. As I tied the gown as tight at the strings would allow me, my mind started to process through everything. My heart started racing and I felt another wave of panic wash over me. Holy crap, we Winchester didn't do hospitals. Ever. Unless it was a life or dea…oh no. No, no, no.

The last memory I had came flooding back in one big jumble. Sam shooting Dad. Dean being beat up and bleeding. Sam driving us to find a hospital. The semi truck…Oh, shit. I ripped out my IV, quietly yelping in pain as I swung my legs over to the side and slowly tried to stand up. Ugh, why was my body protesting everything? Every muscle ached as I slowly continued to make my way to the door. If there were any ants crawling on the floor beside me, they were surely running laps around me.

"Katie, you're awake!" I looked up to find Sam standing in the doorway. He looked like he hadn't slept in a month, but he had a small smile on his face. "Woah, woah, what are you doing up?" He said as he took a few steps and was instantly beside me, trying to help steady me.

"Sam!" I felt some of my worrying disappear. At least I knew one of my brothers was okay. I gave him a once over making sure he was good, except for the few visible cuts I could see. I reached out to give him a hug, but instead of receiving it with open arms, he quickly grabbed on to my right arm, stopping me mid-hug. Talk about rejection.

"You're bleeding." Concern was clear in his voice. Bleeding from a ripped out IV that I did not authorize was the least of my worries right now. Since when did a little blood worry a Winchester?

"Sammy, I'm fine. Where's Dean? Dad? Are they ok? I gotta go to see them." I tried to push through him, but my 5'8" stature and current lack of strength was really no match for Sasquatch. But I had to see them. I remember Dean and all that blood and…

"You have to calm down. I'll take you to see them, but you need to sit back down first." Not leaving me any other option, I let Sam guide me back over to the bed. "How do you feel?"

"Like a pretty pretty princess." Okay, so my sarcasm got the best of me. I wasn't worried about how I felt; there was a more important issue at hand. " Sam….Are they…are they alive?" My voice was shaking even just asking the question. I was scared to hear the answer. Sam sat down on the bed next to me and wrapped his arm around my shoulder.

"Yes, they are. They're alive. I'm so glad you are awake now. The doctor should be coming in soon to give me an update on them. It's all going to be okay, Kate," Sam comforted me. I exhaled loudly, not even realizing I had been holding my breath. I tried to scan Sam's face for any more clues about what was going on. I knew that look though. He was hiding something from me. He had never been able to hide his emotions very easily.

As if right on cue, the doctor lightly tapped on the door and came inside. "Oh my," he said when he spotted the blood on my arm. Well, hello to you too. This doctor was clearly overreacting. It's not like I was bleeding out or anything. This IV was literally becoming more than a thorn in my arm. I needed to know about my family, but before I could verbally scold the doctor, he had stepped back out into the hall and instructed a nurse to come and put my IV back in. The doctor returned, followed my some stout, black haired nurse. She immediately grabbed my arm and began to clean it. Since when was it illegal to ask my permission before poking and prodding at my arm! But I had other pressing issues and decided to let it slide, this time.

"Doc?" Sam asked as I nervously bit my bottom lip.

"Your father's awake. You both can go see him if you like," he explained. I felt my shoulders relax a little. Okay, that was two family members down. One to go…

"And my brother?" I asked with wide, hopeful eyes. The nurse walked to the other side of me to grab onto my arm and start poking a new torture hole.

"Well, he sustained serious injuries: blood loss, contusions to his liver and kidney. But it's the head trauma I'm worried about. There's early signs of cerebral edema," the doctor explained in a sympathetic tone. I felt my heart literally drop to the floor. None of that sounded good. I felt a sharp pain in my arm and turned to glare at the nurse. Couldn't she see I was in the middle of an important conversation? This lady was officially now on my hit list. Well, for when I had time to get around to it.

The doctor continued, "Well, we won't know his full condition until he wakes up. If he wakes up."

"IF?!" both Sam and I said at the same time.

I'm not even sure what the doctor said next. Something about most people don't even survive this long and Sam and I pretty much need to prepare for the worst. My body entered some sort of trance of shock. I didn't know what to think. I couldn't move. I couldn't speak. I just stared directly ahead at the lame painting of a barn in the countryside that was hanging on the wall. It looked so peaceful. So calm. I just wanted to transport myself there. Finally I snapped back to reality and noticed the doctor was gone, Sam was staring at me, and the nurse was putting the final touches on that needle torturing device.

"Take me to see him. Now, Sam." I don't think I was very threatening. I mean I was wearing that garbage bag sized hospital gown that had to be 6 sizes too big, so I was literally swimming in it. I could just feel my hair was going every which way. And if I looked like I felt, I looked like I'd gone 5 rounds with a wood chipper. Sam and the evil nurse made eye contact and apparently had some mind reading thing going on because she scurried out of the room and came back with a wheelchair.

"Okay, you can take her to see him now," the nurse said as she sat the chair down in front of me.

"Like I needed your permission to see my brother." Okay, so that wasn't meant to be said out loud but somehow it slipped past my filter. Oh well, I didn't like her anyway. Sam gave her an apologetic look as she walked out of the room in a huff. Sam helped me into the wheelchair and we took off down the hall towards Dean's room. My mind was racing. Every case scenario was running through my head. The order of things was just out of whack. Dean was the strong one. He wasn't supposed to be sick. Or in a coma. But hell if he wasn't going to wake up. Winchester didn't ever play by the rules. So Dean was going to wake up. He just had to.

Sam had left me alone with Dean while he went to go talk with Dad. I just stared at all of the machines in the room. None of this was right. It was too much. How was he going to bounce back from this? I slowly reached out to grab his hand, but pulled it back. I didn't want to touch him. He looked so fragile. I just didn't want to make anything worse. As I got lost in my thoughts, I felt my breath steady in rhythm with the breathing machine and my mind drifted back to the last time I had been so worried about Dean like this…

"Kate!" Dad yelled as he came barging through the motel room door. I immediately put my book down and looked over to see him holding onto Dean. Dad practically had to drag him into the room. Dean's body didn't seem like it was able to support its own weight.

"What happened? Is he ok?" I felt panic settle in as my heart started racing out of control. After Sam had left for college a year ago, Dean was really all I had left. I ran over to help Dad sit Dean down on the side of the bed. Dean's blood covered shirt caught my eye. "DAD! What. Happened." I wasn't in the mood to deal with Dad ignoring my questions. Something was wrong with my big brother and I needed an explanation.

"Damn demon got a hold of him," Dad said as he helped Dean get his blood-stained shirt off. His eyes were slowly drooping as if he was falling in and out of consciousness. He put a hand on Dean's shoulder to steady his swaying body. Having been through this process a million times before in my 15 years, I instinctively went over to Dean's duffle to grab a new shirt. As I came back over, I saw a huge, poorly stitched, gash across his abdomen. It looked like a clear liquid was seeping out of it. I immediately knew this wasn't like the other times my brother had come home bleeding. There was something seriously wrong.

"He needs a doctor!" I yelled as I slammed the shirt into Dad's chest.

"I fixed him up," he said as if that was enough. I could clearly see he had done it, with it being such a piss poor job and all. Dad helped Dean slip into the clean shirt. Dean seemed like a little kid again, unable to dress himself. His eyes fluttered open and closed as he tried to stay focused on the shirt.

"He needs a real doctor." I had seen enough beaten up and battered Dean, Sam, and Dad to know the fine line between 'I can survive this with some floss and alcohol' and 'I need the real stuff'.

"'m fine," Dean said, causing both me and Dad to stop and look at him. I breathed a sign of relief. At least he was still aware of what was going on around him.

"Now get the first aid kit and keep an eye on him. He'll be fine by morning," Dad said as he helped Dean lay down on the bed so he could rest.

"Let's take him to the hospital," I pleaded one last time.

"No, 'm 'kay." Dean didn't seem to have enough energy to even form complete words. He was barely moving his lips when he spoke. Okay my ass.

"Katelyn, that's enough. He's gonna be fine. Now you stay here with him. I'm going back after that demon. I think it has information we need. You take care of him," Dad finished as he gave Dean a soft squeeze on the shoulder and headed out the door, leaving me without a chance to argue more.

I turned to Dean. I hadn't realized how pale his face was. "You're not okay." I was beyond concerned. Now I was forced to pick up the pieces alone this time, thanks to Dad's sudden, yet not shocking, exit.

"Yea, 'm good...don-worry. Batman-don-die." His words were all slurred together, coming out as one long, mumbled bunch. "'ma sleep n be fine," he finished as he gently laid his hands down beside himself and closed his eyes.

I crawled into the other side of the bed and sat up against the headboard. I didn't take my eyes off of Dean until I noticed that his breathing had evened out, telling me he was finally asleep. The scrunched up, painful look on his face told me it wasn't a very peaceful one though. I wasn't going to leave Dean alone and there was no way I was going to sleep tonight. I couldn't get rid of the unsettling feeling in my stomach. I wondered if this was how Dean felt every time me or Sammy got hurt or were sick. Obviously he was a lot stronger than me because I just couldn't handle this.

A few tears fell down my cheek and I quickly wiped them away. Dean needed me to be strong, not crying. Crying wasn't going to help him. He was going to pull through. Just like he did that time before.

Suddenly I felt someone lay a hand on my shoulder, startling me. I turned around to see it was Sam. "Hey, I'm going to meet Bobby and pick some things up for Dad. I won't be long though. You want me to take you over to his room?" he asked.

Without taking my eyes off of Dean, I replied, "No. I'm fine here. I don't want Dean to be alone." I wanted to see my dad, I really did. But I just didn't have the heart to leave Dean alone. I mean if he…if he di…No, no. I just didn't want him to be alone. No matter what.

"Okay, I'll tell Dad to come over here then," Sam replied as he gave my shoulder a loving squeeze before I heard him take off into the hall.

At least thirty minutes must have passed before Dad came into the room and pulled up a chair beside me.

"How are you feeling, munchkin?" he asked. I turned to look at him. I can't remember the last time he had called me that. I think I was probably 6 years old. For some reason just hearing that come out of him made me feel even worse. I had tried to hold the tears in and keep myself calm, but that one word broke me down. As the tears starting filling my eyes, he gently laid his hand on my cheek as if giving me a once over to check for other injuries, but at the same time offer some kind of comfort. He had never been a man of many words. We sat in silence for a while before I finally decided collect myself enough to speak.

"Why aren't you doing anything, Dad? Why aren't trying to help Dean? You can't just leave him here to die! You have to go find a way to fix this…Dad…please." My voice cracked as I faced him, a few tears escaping.

"Trust me, Katie. I'm doing everything I can," he replied as he reached out and laid his hand on Dean, as if trying to tell Dean the same thing he was telling me. I gave him a confused look before I turned my focus back to Dean. Doing everything he could? Gee, sure looked like it to me. But if there was one thing I had learned in my 19 years of life, it was you don't question John Winchester. At least not to his face. So I just had to trust that he was telling the truth this time.

I'm not sure how much time had passed, but Sam was back and standing in the doorway. He motioned for Dad to come out in the hallway. Apparently I wasn't special enough to warrant an invitation to this top secret meeting and quite frankly I didn't care enough to argue. I was mentally pleading them to help my big brother. The one who had always been there for me. The one who took care of me. The one with crap taste in music. The one who picked on me all the time and expected it in return. The one who got so easily frustrated with us. I felt a small smile pull at the corner of my lips as a memory from a few months back come pouring across my mind…

"Guys, have you seen my phone?" Dean asked. Sam and I turned back to look at him as he continued to search through the crap motel room, pulling up sheets and checking under everything in search of his cell phone.

Sam shrugged his shoulders as he continued to eat and I didn't find the topic interesting enough to respond yet. "GUYS!" Dean shouted, this time annoyance clear in his voice.

"I'm going to buy you one of those waistband clip holders for your phone. I swear you misplace it more times than Sam and I combined," I said as I took another bite of my cheeseburger.

"Yeah, I hear they're all the rage with the kids these days," Sam joked.

Dean sighed in frustration as he stormed over to the table where we were sitting. "How about you both shut up and just tell me where my phone is." He slammed his hands down on the table as he looked from Sam to me, seeing which one of us would break first.

"Well which is it Dean? Shut up? Or tell you where the phone is?" I asked innocently, not being phased by his death glare.

"Yeah, you kinda have to pick one or the other. We can't do both, for obvious reasons," Sam joined in, not being able to hide his smile. Seeing Dean get flustered was definitely one of Sam's and my favorite pastimes these days. Living life on the road left for very little entertainment, so we had to create our own. Only this time it was extra special, because it was so unexpected. Truth was neither of us actually hid his phone, but where was the fun in telling Dean that?

Dean rubbed his hand along his jaw line, as he took a moment to calm down. I'm sure he was getting frustrated with me and Sam, but clearly that was just out of line. I mean we are a pleasure to be around. "Tell me. Or I'll beat it out of you," Dean threatened as he came around to the other side of the table and stood in between our chairs.

I let a small laugh escape. "Um, I'm pretty sure Dad made it very clear you can't ever punch me." I smirked as I continued chewing on some fries.

"Yeah, well, I'm pretty sure he never said anything about this…," Dean trailed off as he quickly turned towards my chair, grabbed the back of it and pulled it out from underneath me before I even know what was happening. I hit the ground with a loud thump.

I let out a very annoyed groan as I sat up. "Why am I always the one who gets thrown on the ground!" My eyes met Dean's, equally as pissed off now.

"Well Sam's kinda super sized, so my options are limited," Dean retorted.

"What? So I get punished because I'm not an overgrown giant!" I pulled myself back up and grabbed the chair out of Dean's hands before sitting back down, careful to keep a watchful eye on his every movement.

"Life's not fair. Get over it. Now give me my phone!" Dean impatiently held out his hand and waited.

"We don't have it," Sam said calmly. Dean's glare told us he wasn't buying it. "Honest truth, man. No idea where it is."

Dean looked at me now, expecting me to have some sort of response too. "Look," I said as I help up my phone and dialed Dean's number. "Now listen." We all waited in silence until we heard the muffled sound of a phone vibrating and playing music close by. I could hear a guitar blasting and drum banging and instantly realized it had to be an AC/DC ringtone. I rolled my eyes as Dean slowly tried to follow the sound, which lead him to his own duffle-shocker. He quickly dug through it, discarding clothes all over the bed in the process. Finally he pulled out his phone and held it up triumphantly as the ringtone continued to blare. I listened more closely and realized it wasn't just music but there was singing too.

Problem child…

I'm a problem child…

Problem child…

Problem child…

As the words processed in my mind, I looked down at my phone that still said "Calling The Short Brother". Then it finally hit me. That ringtone was meant for my calls. My face scrunched up in anger. "That's the ringtone you have for ME!"

Sam laughed. "I can't believe you still have that on there." I whipped my head around to Sam.

"Still?" I threw my glance back to Dean. "How long?"

"Well, let's see…when did you first get a cell phone?" Dean answered, laughing.

I was officially offended. "I think out of the two of us," I motioned between myself and Sam, "I'm the less problematic one!"

"Well that's still up for debate," Dean said as he took a seat with us at the table with his infamous, devilish smirk plastered across his face

I smiled as I thought about that evening. I looked up at Dean and realized I missed that stupid smirk he always had on his face when he knew he had won. That stupid smirk that always pissed me off. I never thought I'd miss that smirk. I reached out and placed my hand over his, trying to be as gentle as possible. "Yeah, well look who's the problem child now, Dean. So hurry up and get your ass better, so things can just go back to normal," I said softly, hoping that somehow he could still hear me.

All of a sudden, I hear some raised voices that I instantly recognized as Sam and Dad. Were they really going to have some freaking showdown in a hospital?! I gave Dean one last look before I started to wheel myself out of the room.

I slowly made my way to the door and into the hallway. This was a lot harder than I thought it was going to be. Either I weighed 50 pounds more than I originally thought or that stupid IV had given me some muscle eating disease because there was no way I was that fat or that weak! I made it to the doorway just in time to hear Sam tell Dad to go to hell.

"I knew I never should have taken you kids along in the first place. I knew it was a mistake, I knew it was wrong-," Dad yelled back at him.

Out of nowhere, the glass of water that was sitting on the table went flying off of it and onto the floor. We all froze. Nobody was even close to that glass and it wasn't like a sudden burst from the air conditioning sent it soaring. Something was going on.

Before any of us had a chance to comment on that, there were a bunch of footsteps rushing down the hall. And Sam and Dad turned towards the door to see what all of the commotion was, and in doing so seemed to notice my presence for the first time.

"Kate, what are you doing here?" Sam asked, concerned that I had just overheard their conversation. I guess rolling around at snail's pace in my wheelchair somehow gave me the element of surprise.

"Something's going on out there!" Dad said, ignoring Sam's comment. Sam quickly made his way over to me. He grabbed on to my wheelchair and pushed me back down the hall to find out what all that was about.

We stopped in front of Dean's doorway, much to my dread. Monitors were beeping nonstop, which was never a good sign. The doctor from earlier and some nurses were surrounding Dean, trying to resuscitate him. Oh gosh. No! This could not be happening. I only left him for 2 minutes and now he stopped breathing and was going to die. My throat grew tight as shut and tears began to sting my eyes. I was supposed to stay with him. He wasn't supposed to be alone! This was all my fault. Dean never would have left my side. The tears burning my eyes finally spilled over. I felt like a floodgate had been opened. Dean was literally dying and I was sitting in this damn wheelchair in a garbage bag dress, completely unable to help him.

"Still no pulse," said the needle-poking nurse. I looked up at Sam and saw tears in his eyes too. Sam held out his hand and I grabbed it, squeezing it as tight as I could.

All of a sudden I felt Sam's arm jerk and I looked at him again. He was looking around the room as if he had heard something strange.

"We have a pulse!" yelled another nurse. My eyes jumped back to Dean and I felt my heart slow. I sniffled and used the oversized sleeve to wipe away my tears. He was back. He wasn't dead. And that meant there was still hope. We had to find a way. How? I had no idea. But I was sure Sam and Dad had been making plans. Whatever freaking higher power there was out there, well if there was one, well that person had to know that Dean was a good guy. He saved people. He fought evil. And he deserved to live.

After the doctors and nurses had made sure Dean was stable and left the room, I went back to the same place I had been earlier. I was not leaving Dean's side again. He had always been there for me, especially during the last 3 years. So I owed it to him to stay here. Sam disappeared again, excusing himself and saying he had to go pick something up.

The room was dark now. The only sound was coming from the consistent beeping of the machines. One, two, beep. One, two, beep. I can't tell you how many times I counted along with the beeping. As long as the one, two, beep kept going, Dean was going to be okay. Sam eventually returned and quietly entered the room, clutching a large paper bag in his arms.

I looked over at him with scrunched up eyebrows. "Whatcha got?" I asked quietly. I wasn't sure why I was whispering. I mean, it's not like I could wake Dean up. If all it took was talking loudly, I would have started screaming at him hours ago.

"I uh…I think Dean might be around. Like he might be here with us. And I know you both are going to make fun of me for this, but I think there's a way I can talk to him," Sam said as he sat down on the floor in front of Dean's bed. I wheeled myself over towards him and glanced down at the box he pulled out of the bag.

"Mystical Talking Board? Seriously? I mean we've done a lot of crazy in our day, but doesn't this seem a bit over the top to you?" Apparently Sam didn't think so because he was already taking the board out and laying it on the ground.

"Yeah, and we've also learned to always expect the unexpected. So I think it's worth a shot," he explained as he placed the pointer on the board, ready to start. As much as I knew this wasn't going to work, I hadn't heard a better option all day. I laced my hands and rested them on my lap, silently hoping this would help us get Dean back. "Dean? Dean, are you here?" Sam asked.

I knew we were both holding our breaths because when the pointer started moving to 'yes', we both let out very audible gasps. "It's good to hear from you, man. Nobody's been the same without you around, Dean." He threw a glance up at me and we shared a small smile. Damn straight we weren't the same without him around. He was our brother. He was the glue that held this family together.

All of a sudden the pointer started moving across the board, landing on top of individual letters. I couldn't see what the letters were, but luckily Sam was spelling it out. "Hunting? Are you hunting?!" Sam asked.

When the pointer landed on top of yes, I couldn't believe it. My ghost or spirit or whatever brother was hunting. I looked back at Dean lying in the bed, so lifeless. Whatever he was doing, there was no way it could be good. "What is it?" I blurted out.

I guess ghost Dean had heard my question because the pointer started moving again, spelling out another word. "A reaper? Dean. Is it after you?" Sam asked, clearly dreading hearing the answer we both already knew. I mean we just found out our brother is essentially alive. Great news and all. But now we find out Death is literally on his ass. The pointer confirmed our suspicions as it landed on 'yes'.

"If its here naturally, there's no way to stop it," Sam said. What the hell was his problem? No way to stop it? Since when did we just give up and throw in the towel before trying everything we knew first.

"There's gotta be a way! Dad'll know what to do, Sam!" I said.

"She's right, Dean. I'm going to ask Dad for help. I'll be back," he replied as he got up and practically ran out of the room. Time was literally not on our side.

I guess Dad wasn't in his room and had mysteriously wondered off somewhere. So, what's new. But in the meantime, Sam had grabbed Dad's journal and we were huddled together, searching through it, trying to find something, anything, to help Dean.

"Sam, there's nothing here. There's no way to kill Death. What are we going to do?" My eyes pleaded with Sam to come up with an answer. He was practically a poster child for Geeks-R-Us, so he had to know of a Plan B.

He looked at me with deep regret. "I don't know, Kate. But I know we are going to keep trying, okay? As long as Dean keeps fighting, so are we." Sam stood up and took a few steps over to the edge of Dean's bed. "Come on, man. You can't…you can't leave me. I mean who are Kate and I going to mess with? Dad would kill us, you know that…I just…Just hold on. It's not your time. Not today. Not tomorrow. Not anytime soon. You hear me?"

Gosh, I felt like I was one of those crazy ladies in a Mexican soap opera that Dean and I used to watch while Sam was off at college. I was crying all the time now. But Sam's little speech broke my heart. He was right. We couldn't do this without him. Heck, Dean was the reason Sam was even back with us to begin with. Without Dean, this family would just fall apart.

Sam gently sat down on the bed and I rolled myself up beside Dean, grabbing his hand again. We all just sat there quietly, both lost in our own thoughts.

All of a sudden I thought I felt Dean's hand jerk, which was so weird because he had never moved before. My eyes shot over to Sam, who had obviously noticed something was going on too. And then without warning Dean gasped, waking up and choking on his breathing tube.

I instantly stood up out of my wheelchair to get closer to him. "Dean? Dean!" I ran my hand along the side of his face, trying to calm him down and let him know that I was there, as Sam ran out into the hall to get help.

What I felt in that moment was something I could never explain. After a roller coaster of emotions today, ups and down, hopes and despairs, Dean was finally awake.

After a night of sleeping in uncomfortable hospital chairs in Dean's room, while he continued to rest, it was finally morning. They had taken Dean away to do some tests and meanwhile, the doctor finally deemed me fit for discharge. I rejoiced as the nurse took out my IV and they let me change into normal fitting clothes that Sam had brought.

I went back into Dean's room shortly after they had brought him back. He was sitting up in the bed and looking better than ever.

"So they finally let you change out of that oversized blanket? That's too bad, it really suited you," Dean joked as he flashed that devilish smirk of his. I let his insult roll right off of me because that was what I missed the most about him. That stupid grin.

"Yeah, well you're just jealous that I looked so good in it," I said, knowing exactly how to trap Dean. He had one weak spot: He couldn't be outdone.

"No way. I could totally pull that off better than you," he said. Sam looked from me to Dean.

"Yeah, Dean. You could totally rock that dress better than Kate," Sam replied smiling.

Dean turned to me with that cocky grin on his face, showing me he had won. I just raised my eyebrows as if to say 'seriously?' Dean let Sam's words process through his mind and he realized what we had been arguing about. The smug grin fell from his face. "Shuddup," he complained as Sam and I couldn't help but laugh.

Shortly later the doctor came in and gave us the best news. Dean's edema was gone. All of his contusions were healed. He was perfectly healthy and they had no way to explain it other than some angel must have been watching over him. Well, obviously this doctor didn't know anything because there was no way in hell ANGELS existed. And even if they did, they would stay far away from us Winchesters.

"So you really don't remember anything?" Sam asked after the doctor had left.

"No, nothing. I remember just before the accident and the next thing I know I woke up to see you two freaks hovering over me like the plague," Dean explained. I know he was just as confused about everything that had happened as we were. "Except I got this pit in my stomach that won't go away. Guys, something's wrong."

I was about to ask him what he thought could be wrong, but I was interrupted by a knock on the door. We all looked over and saw that it was Dad.

"How you feeling, Dean?" Dad asked as he made his way towards the bed. My head tilted sideways in complete confusion. Dean had been right; something was wrong. The look on Dad's face just didn't seem right. Heck, I was happy he was smiling and being friendly for a change. But there was just something different and I couldn't quite put my finger on it.

"Fine, I guess. I'm alive, so that's a plus," Dean replied.

"Where were you last night?" Sam demanded. That kid didn't waste any time getting down to business. Could we please just celebrate this family moment and the fact that Dean was alive before we ruined it with our family issues?

"I had some things to take care of," Dad replied, clearly trying to avoid the topic. He met Sam's gaze, which was clearly telling him he wanted more information. "I didn't go after the demon if that's what you're thinking." Well that hadn't been what I was thinking, but I was glad Dad cleared that up for us.

"You know, why don't I believe you right now?" Sam's voice rose, which was never a good sign. I stood up, ready to get involved in this. The last thing I needed was some bitch fight to break out and then Dean to get stressed and hurt again. Apparently Dad had the same idea.

"Can we not fight? You know, half the time we're fighting, I don't even know what we're fighting about. We're just butting heads." He paused as he took a deep breath before continuing. "Sammy…Katie…I know I've made some mistakes. I know I wasn't always Father of the Year. But I've always done the best I could for you kids…," Dad trailed off.

I stared closely at my dad. Oh my gosh…were those tears in his eyes? Since when did John Winchester get teary eyed and have a heart to heart with his kids? Now I knew something was up. "Yeah, Dad, we know," I answered slowly, still hesitant as to where this was all leading.

"Dad, are you all right?" Sam asked softly, obviously forgetting about the fight they were just having.

"Yeah. I'm just a little tired. Do you guys, uh, mind getting me a cup of joe?" he asked with a small smile. John Winchester didn't ask if you mind doing something. He just told you to do it whether you wanted to or not. That was when the red flags went up everywhere for me.

Sam walked around to the other side of the bed and stood beside me. "Yeah, sure. Come on, Kate," he said as he wrapped his arm around my shoulder and guided me out into the hall along with him. I looked back and caught one last glance of my dad staring at us. If I hadn't known any better, I would say that I saw a tear fall down his cheek.

Sam and I were too confused and in shock of what had just happened to say anything. We slowly made our way down the hall to the coffee machine. Sam put the change in and the coffee started pouring into the cup. A million things were running through my mind. Since when did Dad bear his heart to us? When did he apologize for stuff he'd done? It was just weird.

Sam and I made our way back to Dean's room. Being the normal nosy person I was, I kept my gaze to the right, looking into each room as we passed by. But then that's when I saw him. Dad. Just lying there on the floor. I reached out and tugged at Sam's arm, which caused him to drop the coffee, spilling it all over. I felt like my life was going in slow motion as Sam and I went to be by Dad's side, yelling for help.

Nurses and doctors came rushing in. They got dad up on the gurney and were hooking up machine and starting to beat down on his chest. Trying everything they could to get his heart to start again.

Dean must have overheard the commotion with his bat like ears because he came hobbling up behind us in no time. I turned around and grabbed onto his arm, trying to steady him, as we all looked into the room at our father.

"Okay, that's it everybody," the doctor said.

"No! NO! That's our dad! It's our dad!" I yelled at them, but to no avail. Dean gripped onto my arm tighter, as if offering some form of comfort. We all knew what had just happened. But it wasn't real until…

"Time of death: 10:41am."

And that's when my entire world came crashing down.