"Where do we always put the beer, Bobby? In the fridge!"
"That can't be all we bought, boy. I know we bought more'n that."
"Maybe you're just too old to remember."
"Maybe you're gonna be sleeping in the Impala tonight."
I laughed and swatted Bobby on the shoulder with a dish towel. "The beer's here somewhere, Bobby. No one drank it all."
Bobby huffed and fiddled with his baseball cap. "With your brothers, it's hard to tell."
Dean snorted from the table, where he was dutifully shucking corn, and making a ridiculous mess doing so. "I probably could, but I didn't. Did you check the cooler out back?"
Bobby stared at him. "What cooler out back?"
Dean rolled his eyes. "The one you had Adam set up earlier."
"Goddammit, I forgot about that."
Dean shrugged with his eyebrows and muttered, "I told you, you're gettin' old…"
In an act of pure maturity, Bobby stuck out his tongue and went out back to check the cooler. Dean turned to me. "Jesus Christ, what's his problem?"
I glanced out the back window before going back to the stove. "He's nervous, Dean. Ellen and Jo have never been here for a weekend. He wants it to be special."
Another eye roll. "We're grilling burgers, not throwing a banquet."
I glared at him. "This is a banquet to Bobby. Be nice! Don't rattle him."
Dean flapped a hand at me, sending bits of corn husk everywhere. "Yeah, yeah. Is Dad gonna be like that, too?"
"Is Dad gonna be like what?" Dad asked, walking into the kitchen slowly, rubbing his chest.
"Ribs sore this morning?" I asked. He was still recovering from some broken ribs he got a few weeks ago.
"Yeah, a little. Nothing bad. I just…" He paused to cough. "I bent down too fast."
Dean snickered, and Dad cuffed him on the head. "What the hell - is everyone touchy today?"
"Who's touchy today?" Sam asked, strolling in.
Dean pointed at him with an ear of corn and whispered at me, "He doesn't count - he's a constant."
I giggled at Sam's confused expression. "Don't mind him. He's being an ass."
Sam snorted as he grabbed a mug from the cabinet and filled it with coffee. "When isn't he?"
I nodded in agreement. Dean threw a corn husk at Sam's head. "Hey!" Corn silk landed in his coffee, and the husk beaned him on the temple. My hand flew to my mouth to hide all traces of amusement, and before Sam could throttle Dean, Adam came running into the kitchen.
"They're here!" He flew past us, out the back door and pounded down the steps.
I deftly grabbed Sam's mug, dumped it out and began refilling it with fresh coffee. He grumbled as he picked corn silk out of his hair and Dean took that moment to disappear.
Dad just looked at me. "What the fuck was that?"
I shrugged. "Your kids, not mine."
He grunted and slowly went out back.
Sam took the fresh coffee and half-smiled a thanks. "What're you making?"
I glanced over my shoulder at the stove. "Baked beans."
Sam's eyes widened. "I'm sharing in your room tonight."
I snickered. "Your choice."
The afternoon went pretty fast. Dinner was delicious, and it was a real treat to see Bobby happy.
Holy shit, did we drink. At one point, Sam did karaoke from the hood of the Impala. That alone is a testament to how drunk Dean must have been to allow it.
Sometime in the evening, I wandered back inside to go to the bathroom. I say wandered, but I should really say weaved. I got through the kitchen pretty well, and when I hit the hallway, I figured I deserved a medal for not falling.
"Not falling down is always a good reason to celebrate, Kate."
Whoa - I'm pretty sure I heard that out loud.
I turned a little and saw a middle aged bald guy standing in the living room. He wore a black suit coat, and a crisp white shirt. I should've yelled. Or killed him. Or something.
Instead, I said, "Well, hiya. You have, like, no hair." Then I giggled. I had no sense of alarm at his presence, and since I was incredibly drunk, I didn't find that odd.
The man smiled, and tucked his hands in his pockets. "You're right. This vessel has no hair. I like it that way. Makes things easier to manage."
I leaned against a wall, nodding. "Huh. That's a good point. No hair is a lot easier. What's your name, strange bald man in my living room?"
"Uriel. And you are Kate Winchester."
I blinked at him. "Wow. You're good."
He smiled. "You're right about that."
"So. Whatcha want? Want me to get my dad or something?"
Uriel shook his head and took a step closer. "No. I just wanted to see you for myself before I took care of some business."
I nodded again. "Oh. Well. Here I am!" Then I twirled around, grabbing at the wall for support when I realized how stupid that idea was.
Uriel chuckled. "The prophecies diverged because of you. How...amusing. Well. It was nice meeting you, Kate."
"MmmHmmm, it was nice meeting you too!" I waved at him, but he wasn't there anymore. "Huh." I said out loud, to apparently no one. "That was weird. And I still have to pee."
The next morning, I stretched lazily, feeling warm and comfortable. I didn't want to open my eyes. Opening my eyes would mean I'd have to wake up. And that would inevitably lead to not being in bed anymore. Somehow, my head didn't hurt and my stomach wasn't rolling. I wasn't about to tempt fate, so I didn't question it.
I rolled over, relishing the quiet, and wondering if Sam ever made it to my room. Well, I was relishing the quiet until I heard pounding on my door.
"C'mon, Kate! Get up! We're gonna be late!" It was a girl's voice, loud and insistent, but vaguely amused.
"Go bother Adam, Jo. I'll be up later."
The door opened. The voice was much clearer, and definitely not Jo's. But it was familiar…
"Kate - our appointments at the salon are for eight-thirty! We gotta get a move on, lazypants! Sam will be here soon, and we have to be gone before then!"
That voice...I know that voice…
I cracked open one eye, and there she was. Long blonde hair, swept into a ponytail, bright blue eyes and a huge smile on her face.
She laughed and opened the door wider. "Who'd you think it was, silly? Who the hell is Jo?"
I had both eyes open now, and casually looked around my room. Well, whatever room I was in...because it wasn't mine. Posters of rock bands hung on the walls, along with a huge mirror over a desk. Photos were stuck into the frame all the way around, but I couldn't quite make out who was in them.
"Um...Jo's...a friend. Where are we going again?"
Jess rolled her eyes. "The hair salon. We have to get going! Sam and the other groomsmen are getting here soon, and we can't be here when they're here!"
Sam...groomsmen…"...because of the wedding?" I asked, feeling like the slowest kid in class.
"Oh, my God. How much did you drink last night?"
Apparently, waaaaaay too much, because this is one fucking vivid hallucination.
"Look - just get up, okay? You need to be ready to go in ten minutes!"
I licked my lips. "Ten minutes. Got it." More than enough time for me to figure out what the fuck was going on.
Jess shook a finger at me with this really stern look, before rushing over and giving me a big hug. "I'm getting married today! I'm so excited! You'll be my sister for real!" She planted a kiss on my cheek then ran out of the room, slamming the door shut behind her.
My head was now pounding. What happened?! I fumbled out of the sheets that were tangled with my legs and staggered to the desk, examining every photo stuck to that mirror.
They were of...us. There was Sam's graduation, Dean in front of some garage with a pretty girl, Dad and me posing with the Impala, Sam and I with a bunch of people I didn't recognize, on and on and on. They were family photos of my family in situations and places I knew never happened.
I whipped around, looking all over the room for anything familiar, anything that could tell me where I was.
There was nothing.
Realizing there wasn't much I could do at this point but go along, I hunted through drawers until I found clean clothes, got dressed, and went into the hallway.
I didn't recognize the house at all, but I was on the second floor, and the stairs weren't far away. I was about to peek inside another room when Jess bounced out of what appeared to be a bathroom. "You're up! Go to the bathroom and let's get going!" She pushed me towards the door, then sang, "We'll get Starbucks on the way!"
"Hooooray!" I sort-of sang back, clicking the door shut behind me. I went to the bathroom, eenie-meenie-miney-mo'd for a toothbrush, and generally cleaned up. The bathroom cabinets weren't much help. There were a couple old bottles of medication for Dad (a muscle relaxer and something I didn't recognize) and some over-the-counter boxes for heartburn and headaches.
"Fuck…" I swore, leaning heavily against the sink.
"Kaaaaaaate!" Came Jess's wail.
Rolling my eyes, I called out, "Coming!" And with that, I left the bathroom and went downstairs.