Thank you so much for all of your wonderful support! You readers are truly amazing. I am slowly making laps around all of my stories to try and update them a little more frequently :)

Here's the next drama-filled chapter for you! A special shout out and thank you to Emma Winchester 424. She's been a great cheerleader and helped me polish off this chapter! Be sure to check out her fabulous Dean-daughter fics! And you better hold on to your socks, because they will rock them off!

Read, Review, but most importantly, ENJOY!

Windows had been cracked to cool off the intense frustration and heat that filled the car, crude comments had been thrown around every now and then just so Dean would know I was still pissed (clearly that wasn't changing anytime soon), and shoes had purposefully been smeared across the back seat as an added bonus. The sun was setting off in the distance and little by little the only thing illuminating the car were the lamps and hallways lights from the hotel. The stand off battle had gone on for the long haul and Dean had seemed dead set on trying to patch things up before we excited this car and I was 110% determined to do anything but that.

Seeing no point in continuing this pointlessness, I abruptly sat up and opened the door, throwing over my shoulder, "I think we're done here."

The second I slammed the door behind me, I realized my plan was not very well thought out because all of my shit was still in the trunk of the car. It was like life was mocking me. I just couldn't catch a break, damnit! I grunted in annoyance, making my way to the back of the car. When Dean didn't show any signs of getting out, I banged my fist down on the trunk…not hard enough to dent it, but just enough to piss him off, making sure he'd get out of the car and try to stop me.

I could hear him muttering obscenities under this breath as he got out. "Would you watch it?!" Dean shot back as he stood facing me. I just shrugged indifferently and motioned with my head for him to open up the trunk. He hesitated for a moment, before feeling the need to add, "You're not going anywhere."

Even though that wasn't my current plan, not tonight at least, I didn't see why he had to know that. I twisted up my lips as I looked over both shoulders and all around the parking lot. "I don't see Andy anywhere. Guess I can do whatever the hell I want."

Dean rubbed his temple and I could almost see his veins throbbing. "Kate…"

"Just open the freaking trunk, Dean," I demanded.

He reluctantly sighed and opened it up, tossing my bag over at me. Without another word, I took off toward the lobby. I should have made my way to the road, hitchhiking my way to God knows where, but I was too pissed off to see straight. And I was sure if the person who picked me up shared any remote resemblance to my brothers, there was no telling how harshly I'd react. No, it was better to calm my shit down and think of an even better plan. I opened the lobby door, making my way over to the reception desk. There was no way we were staying in the same room because they would surely find two cadavers in there come morning.

In some kind of sick, twisted cosmic or demonic joke, the only available room in the entire ten-room run down place just happened to be beside my brothers' freaking room. I should have just taken off right then and there…hot wired a car and got the hell out of dodge, but I needed to rest. I needed to gather at least some thoughts and then make a plan. And logic was the last thing on my mind right now.

As I exited the lobby, it was hard to miss Dean's silhouette as he rested against the Impala, undoubtedly waiting to see which room I'd go into. I heard a soft chuckle as I stopped in front of the room next to theirs…whether it was from him noticing the irony or him being relieved that I'd be close, who knows. I didn't feel like turning around to find out and then I slammed the door as hard as I could, hoping Sam could hear my frustration as well next door.

"Fuck me," I muttered as I took in the room's appearance. If you'd thought things couldn't possibly get worse, you'd be wrong. I stared at the extra door along the right wall…these weren't just side-by-side rooms…they were adjoining rooms. Seriously?! Nobody was on my side right now.

I immediately threw my stuff down on the bed and started to push all of the furniture in front of that door, should they think it was a good idea to try and come in. After exerting all my energy moving things around, I threw myself on the bed furthest from the door out of pure habit. I stared blankly at the ceiling that was only illuminated by the wisps of light peeking in through the closed curtains. A never-ending list of questions ran through my mind at lightening speed…

Why had he done that?

Why had he fucking done that?

How long had Sam known about his plan?

Screw them, I'll eat…or not eat for that matter…whenever I sure as hell please.

How could they betray me like this?

I sure as hell would never do something like this to them. I could never hurt them like this.

And the list went on and on…going around in circles, like a merry-go-round that I couldn't get off of, no matter how hard I tried. Then slowly the thoughts morphed from pure hatred into the longing and sadness I felt deep down inside. The last thing I remember thinking before my body gave into the exhaustion and I fell asleep was…

…God, I wish Dad was here. Why did he have to die!

Bang…bang…bang. My eyes instantly shot open at the sudden noise. Someone was pounding on the door. I blinked hard a few times, trying to get my eyes to focus to my surroundings. I glanced at the digital clock beside me. 7:14 a.m. I stood up, almost stumbling a little. I lacked coordination in these obscene hours of the morning, not to mention when I was ripped from my sleep.

I quickly grabbed my silver .45 from my duffle bag and slowly approached the door as the person continued to bang on it relentlessly.

This motel had apparently been too cheap to purchase doors that had peeping holes on them, so I was left to believe that whoever was on the other side of this door was either a monster here to kill me or two morons that I was unfortunately blood related to.

I pressed my ear up to the door, seeing if I could hear anything on the other side.

"I don't think she's here," Sam said before someone knocked on the door a few more times.

"Of course she is," Dean claimed, his unwavering confidence evident in his tone.

"Dude, she was pretty pissed off yesterday. She might have taken off in the middle of the night," he countered, his voice laced with concern.

There were three hard bangs on the door in rapid succession and I had to pull my ear away for a second, almost going deaf from the harsh vibrations. "I sat out here all night, Sam. I think I would have noticed if she tried to leave. There's no other way to get out of the room except this front door!" More pounding.

"Maybe you fell asleep?" Apparently the only logical reason to Sam as to why I wouldn't answer the door was simply because I wasn't there. I guess it never occurred to him that I'd ignore their incessant attempts to conjure me out of my cave.

Dean let out an aggravated sigh. "Damnit Sam, just give it to me already!"

My confusion was short lived because seconds later I could hear the ever familiar sounds of him trying to pick the lock.

Well eff me. I should have expected they'd try that…I mean between those two convicts, there wasn't much they didn't know how to do to get into a room if they were determined enough. And judging by Dean's low, disturbed tone, he was determined all right.

I look a few steps backs, stopping about halfway across the room. Not even a second later, the door came flying open and I raised my gun at the intruders, whether it was out of reflex or sheer anger, I wasn't sure. It just kind of happened.

"Get out," I bellowed, training my gun on them.

Dean instantly held both hands up, the lock pick clearly visible in his right hand. He took a step forward, standing closer to me than Sam. "Woah, Kate, what are you doing?"

"I could ask you the same thing," I bit.

"We came to talk," he spoke slowly, taking a tiny step toward me. I didn't even bother to reply, just glaring between the two of them, their faces filled with a mixture of confusion and concern. "Kate, put the gun down. We're your brothers," Sam emphasized, like that would somehow make me realize the error of my ways.

For the love of all things evil.

"You are not my brothers," I spat, anger dripping off every syllable as I waved my gun at Dean. "Because my brothers never would have betrayed me like that. My brothers wouldn't have treated me like freaking lunatic who needed to have her mind controlled to be fixed."

"Kate, you're taking this-" Dean tried again.

I refused to acknowledge him. "And you!" I pointed the gun at Sam. "You knew about this, yet you did nothing! You just sat there and let me be humiliated, completely degraded." I moved the gun between the two of them. "What happened to free will, huh?"

I couldn't hold them back any longer. The hot tears that had tried to push their way to the surface ever since this all happened had finally made their appearance. I blinked harshly a few times, trying to keep them at bay, but it was no use. They started streaming down my face and I felt so exhausted. Like the weight of the world was crushing me. The gun slowly fell down to my side as I continued to stare at them through watery, burning eyes. There was a long pause as everyone tried to gather some sort of thoughts.

Finally Sam broke the silence. "I didn't know," Sam explained gently. But fuck me if that wasn't a lie.

And I couldn't help it. It triggered something within me and I pointed the gun at him again, ready to lash out a slew of insults that had been on the tip of my tongue all night. But before I could even get a word out, I saw it. It was the slightest movement…Dean taking a step to his left, standing directly in between Sam and me. It was something I'd known him to do all his life…if there was danger, he was the first one to throw himself in the line of fire to make sure nothing happened to us. But now that I was on the other side of it, seeing if from this angle, from a monster's view,…I realized they actually felt threatened by me. Somewhere in that jackass's brain, he thought I was actually a threat to Sam.

Yes, I was pissed off beyond belief. Yes, I was holding a gun to them, but that had only been from the coincidence that it'd already been in my hand. Maybe this was how serial killers were born? In a fit of rage, they did the unthinkable. And at least some part of Dean, maybe his innate instinct, actually thought it might come to that. All I'd wanted to do was to scream at the top of my lungs, lay it on them thick, but this had turned into so much more.

I didn't know what was worse. The fact that they had broken into my room "to talk" (like that was ever going to happen) or the fact that they thought I would actually kill them in cold blood. Granted, I won't deny that the thought crossed my mind on multiple occasions, but when all was said and done, in the actual moment, how could one of us actually go that far?

"I wouldn't do….I just…needed…," I mumbled, unable to form a coherent thought at I pulled the gun back toward me, staring at it.

"Katie, give me the gun," Dean requested, his tone treading lightly as he took another careful step closer.

I didn't want to hand him the gun. That I knew. Because handing him the gun somehow meant that he was right, that I was giving in to him, letting him win whatever standoff battle we were in the middle of. And that wasn't going to happen. For a brief second, it felt like the entire room was spinning and I couldn't quite keep my footing. I blinked harshly a few times, trying to remain focused and then in one swift movement, I brought my other hand up to the gun and quickly hit the release button as the clip went crashing onto the floor. I thought it was something that only happened in movies, but I could literally hear the both of them let out a stupid sigh of relief. Like they had somehow been holding their breaths, nervously waiting to see what I was going to do.

Dean took another step closer and he was now standing directly in front of me. "Let's sit down so we can talk." He reached out to put his hand on my shoulder, but I reflexively pulled away.

"I don't want to talk." My voice was so void of any emotion that it even surprised me. The tears had stopped but I was sure that the streak marks down my face were still visible.

"We have to…" Sam stepped in, only feet away now. They were trying to pull some kind of tag team thing, like they could pressure me into compliance. Not happening. How could I make them understand that?!

I shook my head. "We don't have to do anything. I'm done with you both." Now Sam was standing beside Dean. I instinctively took a step backwards, wanting to keep the distance.

"You don't mean that." Sam's voice was calm, like he was trying to coax someone off the edge.

Dean reached out quickly and this time he was able to grab a hold of my shoulder as I reflexively tried to pull away from it. "This has gone too far."

In a sudden burst of energy, I ripped my arm back out of his grip and shoved him with both hands. The unexpected forced caused him to stumble back a step. "No, you've gone too far," I spat.

I could see the frustration on Dean's face. Whatever little patience he had when he walked in this room, it was long gone by now. "Don't you think you're being overdramatic here, Kate?" His voice was condescending.

I blankly stared at him, trying to process his words. He thought I was overreacting here? I opened my mouth multiple times to say something, but I stumbled over what I actually wanted to say. The right words never came. Finally, I just sighed heavily and snapped in a low, angry tone, "Just leave already."

"Will you let me explain what…," Dean tried again.

I interrupted him before he could finish. "There's nothing left to explain. Everything seemed pretty damn clear back at that diner. Now, get out of my room."

"Kate…" It was Sam again. What the hell was that? Was he actually trying to work those stupid puppy dog eyes? Did he seriously think that was going to magically break down the wall I had built up around me? "Let's all sit down and talk calmly about this."

"No! Just leave! Pack up your shit and leave me here!" I yelled, no patience left in my veins either.

"Like hell we are. We aren't leaving you here." Dean's voice changed. It was no longer full of remorse or persuasion but instead the same authoritative tone he always used when there wasn't any room left for discussion.

Maybe the Kate from three days ago would have listened to him because that tone of his would have instantly registered in my mind as DANGER, WILL ROBINSON! But not today. He didn't get to win. "Well I sure as hell am not going anywhere with you two. I don't even know who you are anymore," I bit.

And right then something changed in Dean's demeanor. He all of a sudden stood up taller, taking a deep breath. It was like he'd given up having whatever type of conversation he'd hope to have with me. And quite frankly, it was about damn time he realized it wasn't happening. "We're leaving in an hour. I suggest you be outside waiting," he announced, his tone low and threatening. He didn't even wait for me to respond, turning on his heel and walking toward the door. And I can't explain why exactly, but something about that pissed me off even more. Like he thought he could just boss me around and that would be that…I'd just accept it and move on. But he needed to know that things weren't like that at all.

"You don't get to order me around like that anymore, Dean. You're not Dad!" I yelled to his back.

He stopped dead in his tracks and his neck muscles tensed up. "Yeah, well Dad's not here anymore so I'm in charge," he argued as he turned around, his eyes narrowing at me, ready for a fight.

"And whose fault is that?" I snapped before the words had a chance to pass through any filter.

He shifted his stance, staring me down. "What's that supposed to mean?" he demanded. I hesitated for the slightest of seconds, mentally trying to decide if I was really going to go there. If this was really worth it…but I didn't even have a chance to finish. "If only Dad were here to see this shit show of yours," he spat, motioning to me.

And then shit had officially hit the fan. The ticking time bomb inside me went off and there was no stopping it now.

"If Dad were here? If Dad were here?! Damnit, Dean! If Dad were here, none of this would have happened! I never would have felt so empty inside or fell off the deep end. Fuck, I never would have stopped eating or tried to hide it. Sam wouldn't be a pathetic mess and for god's sake, you wouldn't have turned into the planet's biggest jackass!" I took a deep breath, reading myself for whatever was about to spew out of my mouth next. "I saw you lying in that hospital bed dying, Dean. And then magically you are alive again and two seconds later Dad is dead on the floor! Don't you get it?!" My voice rose with every word. There was something therapeutic about getting everything off my chest in a sudden burst of rage. And I no longer had control over what I was saying. It was like my mind was working in overdrive and there was no stopping it, like it was determined to find a way to try and hurt Dean as much as he had hurt me. And then without further warning, the words slipped off my tongue like oil. "If it hadn't been for you, Dad would still be here!"

The entire room was quiet. It was like time stood still. As soon as the words had left my mouth, I wanted to reach out and grab them, shoving them back inside and locking them away forever. But there were no take backs or do overs in my life. The lion was out of its den and there was no turning back.

Dean's eyes locked with mine and I knew that look behind them. It was a look that only someone could recognize if they'd been there before. It was a look of hate, of guilt, of anger. He was looking at me the same way I'd looked at him when we left that diner. It was a scowl that would never forgive.