The bedroom door creaks, and Russell's eyes fly open. With panic blazing through his veins, he slides his fingers under his pillow and wraps them around the hilt of the sheathed bowie knife. The moment he moves his leg, he's on his feet and facing the door.

Katherine is standing at the door, fist bunched around something long and thin, rope-like. She's facing the inky black of the corridor. 

"Katherine?" He whispers, eyes darting from the blackness to her, there and back, there and back. The moonlight glints off of something metallic, suspended in the air by her knee. The grip on his knife tightens, and he starts around the foot of the bed.

A crucifix. She's holding a rosary.

He turns cold, coming to a stop a few feet behind her. "Katherine," Russell tries again, a little louder. What alerted her to the presence of a demon, and she didn't bother to wake him?

"She's asleep," Katherine says. Russell frowns. "Should we wake her?" She turns to look at him, and his heart stops when he finds her eyes are wide open...but they're not seeing him. His mouth opens and closes. Rarely is he left utterly speechless. It doesn't seem to matter. Katherine keeps talking. "Well I could always go get my squirt gun, but I think the Church would frown upon it."

She's fucking sleep walking. A new house, new people. They can't know about it. He knows how Katherine would react, and she's made so much progress.

Russell panics, but goes into a freeze mode. You're not supposed to wake up the sleep walkers, but if she starts screaming, the whole family is going to know about her...disorder. And they can't.

He starts trying to worm his way into her mind, but he doesn't know where to begin, how it always starts.

"Katherine," he says again. She turns to look at him, waiting with raised eyebrows. "We need to leave her to rest."

She heaves a sigh, but closes at the door. "You didn't call me to Naugatuck to let her rest. We need to get it out of her."

"We will."

"The Church specifically requested I come as soon as I could, and now you don't want to continue? I don't know how many exorcisms you've performed, Father Moran, but I've had my fair share. If we don't do this, she dies tonight."

Russell swallows. "Uh...You're correct," he says. "But...we can't do it now."

She tightens the grip on her rosary. "You get fifteen minutes," she says.

"Why don't you lie down while I...prepare?"

Katherine looks to the bed and sighs. "I guess a cat nap wouldn't hurt." He watches as she climbs into bed and crosses her ankles. She reaches for a knife on the nightstand he didn't realize was there. "I'm a light sleeper," she says, almost in warning, as she settles into the bed. Within moments, he can hear her heavier breathing.

"Katherine?" He whispers. She doesn't answer. Russell, having regained control of his legs, swiftly moves for the door, closes it, and turns the small lock on the handle. It makes him feel only a little better. Then he turns to Katherine, and lets the moonlight guide him back to the bed without hitting anything. It glints off of the blade at her chest, the rosary wound around her knuckles. He almost lets her keep that, but horror scenes of her choking him, or even herself, flit through his mind, and the idea is shot down almost as quickly as it was formed.

He sticks both items in his duffle, and moves for his side of the bed. He sheathes his knife under the pillow, and turns on his side to study her. Her arms have come up to her head, tucked underneath the pillow. She's snoring a little.

Russell pulls the tangled comforter out from underneath her with three quick, hard tugs, and drapes it over her lower half. She begins to stir, and Russell freezes.

"What're you doing?" She moans, turning onto her side facing him.

"Shh," he hisses, and she frowns at him.

"Tell me what to do," Katherine mutters, and shifts her hips to find comfort. Russell lies down beside her, but sleep doesn't find him for several hours.

He finds her in the kitchen the next morning, keeping a healthy distance from a pan of sizzling bacon. She's holding a pair of tongs close to her chest, staring at the pan like it has teeth.

"What are you doin'?" He asks, smiling a little. She looks to him, concern knitting her features.

"Cooking bacon. The fuck does it look like?"

"It looks like you're afraid of the pan." His voice has a light tone of humor as he dares to venture closer.

"Of course I'm afraid of it," she says, turning her gaze to the stove. "You never know when it's gonna pop, and it fuckin' hurts."

Russell chuckles, wrapping his arms around her. Something he's only done a few times, but feels so natural. 

"My girl," he muses. "Hunter of creatures of the night...terrified of bacon." He kisses her head.

"Creatures of the night are predictable," Katherine sourly mutters. A moment of silence lapses. "Your girl?" She asks.

"Mine," Russell affirms. "I'm yours, you're mine, forever and ever."

"Is that Russell talking, or is that the Familiar talking?"

He leans against the island, lips pursing as he thinks. "Both," he decides. "It would be ignorant to think otherwise."

Katherine wasn't sure what he was going to say, but to deny her heart sank a bit would be a lie. Of course she was hoping he would say it's all me, babe. But who really knows?

It doesn't really matter, does it? This is the hand she's been dealt. They've been dealt.

Katherine extends the tongs towards him. "Wanna finish 'er off?"

He smirks before grabbing the tongs from her and pushing himself up. "Start on the eggs," he says.

She frowns at him, but moves for the refrigerator. "You're so bossy," Katherine admonishes. Russell hums a little dismissively.

"You're up early," he says after a moment. His mind has wandered to the events of the middle of the night.

Katherine lightly hums. "I think it had something to do with the sun glaring at my face," she says, moving behind him. Her hair brushes his shoulder, and he turns to look at her. "I had a bad dream," Katherine admits. He looks her up and down, waiting. Big blue eyes turn up to his. "You laughed at my roots." Russell frowns.

"What's wrong with your roots?" He asks, eyes flitting to the top of her head. Katherine stares blankly at him, then he sighs. "Honey, we've known you need to get 'em done. If you can't fix it in two minutes, why say anything at all?"

Katherine rolls her eyes at him and turns to the island to continue her eggs.

"You did have a bad dream, though," he carefully says. "Huh?"

Slowly, she nods. "Yeah," she whispers. "Did you see it?"

"No," Russell says, turning to the stove. "I woke up when you were opening the door." The fork clatters against the bowl, and Russell turns towards her again.

"I was sleepwalking?" Katherine asks.

"I didn't know what to do," he admits. "I kind of panicked, but...I just kind of tried talking you into getting back into bed. It worked after a minute." He swallows hard. "They're getting bad again. Is it...is it your family, or...I mean, you haven't been bad in a long—"

"It's the pills, Russell," Katherine bleakly says, and moves to the stove to empty the beaten eggs into the vacant, hot pan. "I'm not...I'm not high all the time, and they're the only thing that kept me from seeing everything all over again."

Russell stares down at her, and starts moving bacon onto a paper towel. "I can't imagine how hard it is," he quietly says.

"Well you didn't turn to hard drugs after your ordeal," she mutters. "How fuckin' hard can any of this be?"

"That's not fair to yourself, and you know it," Russell says. "Do you wanna talk about last night? Seemed like—"

"No," she quickly says. Russell feels cold dread settle in his stomach.

Katherine's sensation, pushed from her mind to his.

"Okay," Russell murmurs.

"How much did I say?" She asks.

He shrugs. "You were talkin' to someone named Father Moran," he says. "And you, uh...you joked about getting a squirt gun." Katherine gives him a look, and he shrugs. "Personally, I think using a squirt gun on a demon is a little juvenile, a little reckless," Russell drawls. Katherine once said he sounds hick-er in the mornings, which is absolutely not a word. "But I can appreciate the visual."

"No one expects the squirt gun," Katherine defends. "You don't get an answer you want, you just whip that puppy out and go to town. I mean, your finger cramps after a little while..."

Russell frowns at her. "You've actually used a squirt gun on a demon before?"

Katherine shrugs. "Gotta make it interesting somehow." She starts in on a piece of bacon. "You should go put a shirt on," she says. "Ya know, before my grandmother comes down."

"Oh, honey, please don't," Lois drawls from the entryway. Katherine and Russell start at her unexpected voice. She breezes into the kitchen in a dark blue silk nightgown and matching robe.

Russell grins and looks at Katherine with raised eyebrows.

"But what in God's name happened!" Lois cries, dropping her hand from the refrigerator door. Russell follows her eyes to his stitched side, a little puffier than usual this morning.

"Oh," he hums. "Wendigo."

Lois stands up straight, gazing at him in both concern and disgust. "Would you like me to help with that?"

"I mean, we're just waiting on the stitches to dissolve," Russell hums, glancing down at his side again. Her screwed up expression hasn't changed. "Help how?" 

"Well heal it, of course," she says. Russell looks to Katherine, who frowns and looks to the stove.

"Don't know why you're lookin' at me," she drawls. 

Russell turns his gaze back to Lois, then shrugs. "Do your worst," he chirps, lifting his arm up. 

Lois scoffs before moving her hand to hover over his side. Without touching him, the tightness in his side begins to ease, and the warmth he hadn't realized was there fades. 

A dozen little knotted sutures fall to the ground. Russell scoffs, pulling at his skin.

There's hardly a pink line where the wendigo slashed into his side. 

"Holy shh..." Russell looks at Lois and clears his throat. "Cow. Holy...cow."

Lois reaches into the refrigerator, smiling. "You didn't even say anything," Katherine states, gawking at Russell's side.

"When you've been practicing as long as I have, you don't need to." Lois wiggles a jug of orange juice at the two. "Juice, anyone?"

Warmth flares Katherine's cheeks. She's taken a pill this morning, and having orange juice magnify the metabolism of it wouldn't do anyone any favors. She quietly declines, and turns the burner for the eggs off. Lois looks Katherine over, who hasn't met her eyes since last night, and turns to the island. 

"The rest of the coven is supposed to arrive around three," Lois says. 

"We'll stay far away," Katherine says. 

"They would be happy to meet you."

"I don't know anything about them," Katherine says, finally lifting her blue eyes to identical ones five feet away. "I don't care that they know I exist. I'm not locking myself and Russell into a room with them."

"The door stays open," Lois says. 

"What I think Katherine is trying to say," Russell delicately attempts. Katherine turns away from both of them. "Is that this is still very new for the both of us, and it's against our nature to walk into a situation we know nothing about."

Katherine leans against the counter and crosses her arms. "You had Mitch this whole time and you never said anything," she snaps. "Since he was seven, in 1994, six years before the fire!" Her chest is heaving.

"Your mother knew where he was," Lois carefully tells her, eyes like ice. Katherine's brows knit together, and her head slips back like she's been hit.

"She knew?" Katherine asks. Lois says nothing. "And no one...said anything." 

Lois sighs, rubbing her forehead. "Katherine Louise, it was a very precarious and delicate situation. With your father growing all the more volatile, it was clear that something was going to happen to Mitch if he wasn't removed from the situation."

Katherine lets out a laugh without an ounce of humor. "You knew my dad was going nuts!" She cries. "And you left me."

Cold blue eyes meet Katherine's. "I could hardly take in all of you without your father knowing!" Lois snaps. "When we heard about the fire, the three of us drove down in the middle of the night to see what was left. Who we could save. Your father never let you leave his side, Katherine. What would you have had me do?" Lois looks at Katherine expectantly, whose blue eyes are red and rimmed with tears of betrayal.

"If you knew about my dad," she croaks. "About what he was doing with me and Mitchy, you should have intervened." 

She pushes herself off of the counter and storms for the entryway, running straight into Mitch's solid frame. She quickly pushes away from him, too, hands shaking as they ghost over his flesh, and she bolts for the stairs. 

Mitch turns to look at Lois and Russell. "How is she this pissed off at nine AM?" He asks. 

Lois sighs, shaking her head, and pinches the bridge of her nose. "Mitch, I told you not to come until the rest of the coven arrives later today, so your aunt and I would have a chance to explain all of this to Katherine." 

He shrugs. "Last I heard, Aunt Louise couldn't find her. And no one answered my calls."