Chapter Text
As a child Kate was never scared of the dark. Of course it could be menacing and who knows what doesn't lie in wait in the darkness, but she never felt scared. Not as much as a regular 10 year old typically is. No. Holding her dagger made her feel safe.
Safe.
It was such a nice concept. To be warm and snuggled tight, wrapped in a soft blanket and hot cocoa in you hands, maybe some old rerun of a film you've seen so many times already. What was not a nice concept was being stuck in a freezing car with the lights turned off while you waited for someone to come back for you. She knew it would happen, it had happened so many times before, until it didn't. Her brothers would come back for her but as the low growl grew closer, she gripped her knife harder and harder, the hilt starting to dent her hands from being gripped so tightly, she grew less and less hopeful. The sharp blade getting closer and closer to the soft flesh of her tiny hands. Why her 13 year old brother was able to kill his first werewolf and not her Kate would never understand, not even when the not so comforting words of her eldest brother told her that it isn't too much of a wait until she is able to kill her first.
And so here she was: waiting like always. Even after showing her how to kill a number of different beings and how to properly defend yourself in basically any situation, she was still stuck in the backseat with the lights off holding her knife so tightly in her hands it had begun to break the skin. Keeping her eyes focussed on the woods they were still in Kate tried to not think about how long they had been in there. How long is too long? Hers was a simple order, "stay put, I don't want you meddling in shit you can't handle.", to which she responded with a rushed, "yes, sir", trying to not let the panic seep into her voice. It was only until her father had turned his back and began striding towards the trees that Dean had turned to her with his kind eyes and reserved smile and given her a spare knife of his that he no longer found any use for, not after getting a new sharper jagged one. Still, it put her at ease, only slightly but enough for the initial panic to subside. She kept her eyes trained on his movements as he clapped Sam on the back and followed their father, his weight still carefully shifted to the right to avoid putting too much pressure on the still healing wound on his leg which he refused to acknowledge.
As the minutes began ticking closer to the next hour, Kate began contemplating running into the trees herself. It wasn't that she didn't know how to kill a werewolf, her father just didn't want her to be a 'burden on the boys as they are trying to do their work'. Sexist. She was capable. She knew she was. And yet time and time again they still left her behind. Maybe it would be different when she is older, a more vital part of the team instead of 'helping' Sam with research, something she found so boring she usually ended up falling asleep by his side while he worked for hours on end. It was only as she began to delve deeper into those memories of long days in libraries and how many more were still to come the phone beside her began to ring. One ring then nothing. Another, but this time more consistent. Kate rushed to answer, speed was necessary, " bring me that other shotgun and more ammo NOW!". The harsh voice cut out almost as soon as it had started but this time she had an order. This time she had a chance to show them she was ready. This time she had a chance to prove that she was not a burden.
Hurriedly she moved, grabbing the spare shotgun, grabbing the bullets, run. She would have gotten lost if not for the constant wailing, of the werewolf or Sam she didn't know.
Finally she reached them, spotting them surrounding an injured beast that looked a lot different to old depictions, she looked up from the creature to see her father's eyes glaring down at her, motioning for her to hand him the shotgun that rested in her hands. Almost tripping, she moved over holding the gun like a peace offering, the bullets tucked away in the pocket of her jacket, an old one that was slightly too big from Dean. "The bullets?", it wasn't a question really, more of a sharp spike that went straight through her heart as his disapproving manner made it seem like she couldn't even complete the most simplest of tasks without constant guidance. She took the bullets out of her pocket and handed them to him, eyes starting to feel blurry as tears welled up as he dutifully ignored her after getting what he needed, effectively pushing her out of the way and telling her to stand by "that tree over there", not even sparing another look to see if she got there safe.
After painstakingly loading the shotgun it was handed to Sam who looked equally dejected. He didn't move. It was loaded and in a position that one shot and it would be over. But there was still no movement. It was almost as if someone had stopped time if not for their father getting angrier the longer that Sam didn't shoot. Apparently it was too long and the shotgun was ripped out of Sam's hands and in John's before a loud bang stopped the silence.
Kate couldn't move. The werewolf was dead, no movement save for the twitching fingers as its head lay in pieces scattering the leafy floor. She could hear voices, probably her father's telling them to get back to the car off to research for another case and maybe an hour of sleep, she didn't listen. She couldn't. She couldn't rip her eyes away from the corpse. Evidently her father couldn't spare her a second thought and was more than happy to leave her in the forest as he stalked towards the impala as Dean's face came into focus in front of hers, speaking something but she couldn't make out the words. "what?", her voiced sounded stretched thin even to her and must have seemed worse to her brother as she was pulled into a hug and let herself bury her face in his jacket. "Come on Kay, let's get to the car", he sounded worried? whatever it was it snapped her out of her reverie and allowed herself to look up at him and start moving towards the car but not before realising the sharp stinging on her palm. Pain must have registered on her face as worry lit up like a neon sign on her brother's face, "what? what's wrong? Kay talk to me", he began checking her over, trying to make a mental comparison of how she was before and how she was now," I'm fine it's just my hand I think I cut it when I was holding the knife earlier", she lifted her hand for him to see and a nasty gash painted her skin. They decided it would be best to sort this out with the first aid kit in the car but as she sat in the backseat, her hand being gently stitched close by her older brother she felt safe, fantasies about hot cocoa long forgotten, Kate looked to the future and decided that even if she didn't have any semblance of a normal life at least she was safe with Dean.