A/N: Yes, I've written another season 11, save!Cas, fix-it. This is for electrons, because we both miss Charlie, and if she were still alive, she wouldn't have let Cas get so low as to say yes to Lucifer.
This will be a two-shot because it's almost 7,000 words. Which means the second part will be posted next Monday…unless there's an overwhelming consensus to postpone the next Brother Where You Bound chapter for this on Friday instead. That story isn't in the midst of a cliffhanger at the moment, so good timing.
Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. And if by some chance any of the myriad ways I write Casifer resolutions ends up actually happening, it's pure coincidence. Thanks to 29Pieces for beta reading!
"No Place Like Home"
Part One
Ever since she'd met the Winchesters, Charlie's life had been better—and worse. Better because Sam and Dean were like her brothers and she loved them. Better because a fantastical world she'd only LARPed and pretended to be a hero in turned out to be real, and she could be a noble champion like she'd always dreamed of.
…Worse, because pain, blood, and death followed the Winchesters like a plague. Charlie wasn't immune, not once she'd immersed herself in their world. There'd been her whacked out, non-human boss, the fear djinn, her trip to Oz and the war there. There'd been tracking down the Book of the Damned and getting shot for it. Those were just the physical hurts. There was also the heartbreaking, crushing pain of watching Dean slowly succumb to the Mark. It's what had made Charlie sign on for Sam's crazy plan, even though it was behind Dean's back. "For Dean," they had all said—her, Sam, and Castiel.
Love made them do stupid things.
Like sneaking out to an unprotected motel. Charlie knew the moment the banging started on her door that she had made a fatal mistake. Dean, on the other end of the phone line, begged her to hand over whatever the Stynes wanted. But she couldn't do it.
After uploading the files and smashing her laptop, then drawing her short sword, Charlie hadn't expected to face down utter evil again after that night.
Yet she'd somehow survived. Beaten, sliced up, and left for dead, Charlie nevertheless found herself waking in a hospital bed sometime later. She remembered little of that first foray into consciousness, except maybe asking if an angel had healed her. That had to be what happened. Castiel brought her back from the dead.
The nurse had smiled and said Charlie's brothers had brought her in. But when Charlie asked where Sam and Dean were, the nurse's expression had turned sympathetic, and some heavy duty pain medication must have followed soon after.
Charlie only later learned that Dean had snapped. The attack on her had caused him to go after the Stynes, to fully embrace the rage and bloodlust of the Mark. Sam was…still desperately trying to find a cure.
Castiel had been the one to tell her all this when he'd finally come to see her. With a sad smile that left his eyes hollow, he'd placed two fingers to her forehead, easing some of her pain.
"I'm sorry," he'd said, sounding heartbroken. "I can't heal you all the way."
Charlie had noticed he seemed to be holding himself extra stiffly, one arm wrapped almost protectively across his ribs.
She'd smiled weakly, yet encouragingly, at him. "I cracked the code."
Castiel had nodded, and moved his hand to settle on the top of her head. "You did good, Charlie. Just rest now. We'll save Dean." His voice had hitched at the end, but once again the pain meds were making her sleepy, and the next time she woke, Castiel was gone.
Charlie didn't hear from the Winchesters for a while, until finally Sam called to tell her Dean was free of the Mark, but something called the Darkness had been unleashed. He told her to get better quickly, because they'd need her help researching. But it sounded forced. And the truth was, just thinking about going back to…all that, made her sweaty and nauseous.
So she'd done what she did best, and disappeared off the grid. If the world was ending, it didn't really look like it, so Charlie was able to bury herself in freelance programming jobs or waste whole days away playing Moondoor online. Somewhere in the back of her mind she realized she was probably suffering from a form of PTSD, and it'd probably be a good idea to get help. But who would she talk to?
'So, I got stabbed multiple times by this sadist descendent of Dr. Frankenstein. And before that I'd been split into two separate people, one good, one bad.'
Yeah, no.
But…she was good at pretending, and ended up joining a support group for survivors of trauma. And even though she couldn't share everything, the therapy…helped. What she was feeling, lots of others had experienced, too. The more Charlie learned, the more she started analyzing the Winchesters, figuring they could use a good dose of talking things out as well. Not that they'd ever go for it. But thinking about them made Charlie miss Sam and Dean and Castiel. She missed the home she'd had with them.
She started checking her old email inboxes on occasion. There were a few messages from Dean, dated months ago when Charlie had first left. They mostly consisted of Dean apologizing for her getting hurt, saying he understood why she left, and that he just hoped she was okay. Charlie couldn't bring herself to respond.
But then, a few more months later, she saw a new message from Dean saying that Lucifer had escaped the Cage and was riding around in Cas.
…Charlie didn't even know where to begin. She surged from her chair, already mentally running through a checklist of things she had to pack. Then the panic flared up. Could she go back? Was she ready? Her hands started to tremble, pulse racing. She recognized the symptoms and concentrated on taking deep breaths. Her family needed her; of course she had to go back.
Pulling up in front of the bunker and knocking on the door left her more jittery than she cared to admit, and when the door swung open to reveal Dean, she gave him an embarrassed smile, apologies rehearsed on the trip ready to leave her lips.
But Dean scooped her up into a bone-crushing hug. "Hey, kiddo," he whispered in her ear, sounding choked up.
"Hey," she squeaked back.
Then Sam appeared, looking hesitant as he held his arms out for a hug, too. Charlie didn't feel a single instance of doubt, and threw herself into his embrace. He lifted her off the ground for a brief second.
"How are you doing?" he asked after setting her back down.
She nodded, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "Okay. Better than you guys, it seems."
The looks on the brothers' faces nearly broke her heart, and Charlie found herself slipping back into her old self with ease, pulling out her laptop when they got downstairs and asking for a full run-down on everything that had happened. The whole story about the Darkness, and Castiel giving the Devil permission to possess him, gave her a few hiccups along the way, but while the fear simmered under the surface, Charlie found herself mustering the determination to meet this fight head-on.
"For Castiel," she declared, drawing her shoulders back.
Sam's eyes glistened with emotion, no doubt remembering their last rally. "For Cas," he said.
Dean glanced between them, unaware of how this had played out only months ago for him. "For Cas," he agreed. And they got down to business.
But, just like with the Mark, they were coming up empty. Eventually, the Winchesters got word of Amara, so they took off to check it out while Charlie stayed behind to continue scouring the Men of Letters archive. That must have been what Lucifer was waiting for—Sam and Dean to leave. Charlie had no idea how he figured out a way around the warding, but the next thing she knew, the front door had blown open, and Charlie was once again confronted with one of the greatest evils of all time, wearing the mask of a beloved face.
Castiel—no, Lucifer—slowed his descent down the steps and cocked his head curiously when he spotted her. "And what do we have here? I didn't realize the Winchesters had gotten a new pet."
Charlie took a nervous step back for each one he advanced.
"Makes sense they'd replace Castiel," the Devil remarked blithely, running his gaze up and down her. It was frighteningly eerie how alien everything about this imposter was, despite the superficial appearance resembling her friend. "Ah, there's the memory. Charlie Bradbury. Last anyone knew, you'd disappeared."
She swallowed hard. "Well, I'm back now."
"Hm, not for much longer, I think." His face split into a wicked grin that sent chills down her spine. "I was planning to just slip in and out unnoticed," Lucifer continued, swaggering closer. Charlie sidestepped to keep one of the tables between them. "But I think leaving your disemboweled corpse for the Winchesters to find will be much more fun."
She turned and bolted for the back hallway, slippered feet slapping across the concrete floors as she barreled down corridors in search of a place to hide. She nearly lost her balance and slammed into a corner wall trying to get her phone out of her pocket. Pulling up Dean's number also wasn't easy while running for her life.
"Hey, Charlie," Dean answered.
"Dean! He's here, Lucifer's here!"
"What?"
"I don't know how he got past the wards, but he's in the bunker." She threw a look over her shoulder. The Devil wasn't on her immediate tail, but he could play cat and mouse with her all day if he wanted.
"Use the banishing sigil!" Dean shouted.
Her heart hammered against her rib cage, threatening to explode right out of her chest. It was too similar…the bunker walls the same color as the motel bathroom, Dean's muffled voice screaming at her desperately over the phone.
"Charlie!"
She skidded into one of the artifact rooms and slammed the door. Looking around frantically, she grabbed a samurai sword off a crate, and went to duck down behind some rolling shelf units. "I…I can't remember what the sigil looks like."
She'd learned it, of course she'd learned it. But she'd never actually used it before, and her brain wasn't working right.
"Sam's texting you a picture and it's gotta be in blood," Dean rushed out. "Just do it, okay? We're on our way."
They were at least a couple hours from the bunker, but if she managed to use the sigil… Her phone pinged with a multimedia message, and Charlie tapped the thumbnail to enlarge the photo. She looked from the sword she was holding to her forearm, gorge rising at the memory of her own blood spilling out of her body. She couldn't do this. She was going to die. Or worse.
Would Castiel see Lucifer kill her with his hands? That thought almost made her throw up too, and Charlie tossed the sword away. It clattered across the floor, making her wince and throw a panicked look at the closed door. She needed somewhere else to hide, somewhere Lucifer couldn't get to…
Eyes widening, Charlie jumped to her feet, phone forgotten. She knew exactly where she could hide. But the key was in another storage room.
Adrenaline coursed through her veins, and her chest hitched on the verge of hyperventilating as she slowly approached the door. What if she opened it and Lucifer was standing on the other side? But if she stayed put, he'd eventually find her. She had to chance it.
Cracking the door, Charlie peeked out into the hall. It was clear. She inched out, padding softly across the floor as she ducked down another corridor toward the room she needed. She froze as Castiel's voice echoed through the halls, too high-pitched, too taunting.
"Here, kitty, kitty, kitty."
Charlie quickened her pace, and made it into the storage room unhindered. She tore through boxes, trying to be both quick and quiet—two feats that did not go well together. Where was it? She'd been with Dean when they'd filed the key away for safe keeping.
She knocked over a box, scattering its contents in a raucous clatter. Her heart stuttered and tears of panic pricked the corners of her eyes, blurring her vision to the point she almost missed the key that had fallen out of the box. Charlie snatched it up and whirled toward the door. Blood was roaring so loudly in her ears, she couldn't hope to hear whether Lucifer was just outside or not.
All she had to do was get the key in the lock before he found her.
Yet just as she lifted it to the hole, Charlie hesitated. Her brain, which had been muddled with fear and terror, suddenly had a flash of clarity. She couldn't run like this. What if Sam and Dean got back while Lucifer was still here? They could be killed. And Castiel…if it was his hands under the Devil's control that hurt the Winchesters, it would destroy him. Charlie could lose every last member of her family in one fell swoop.
Her knuckles whitened around the key, its edges digging into her palm. But what could she do against Lucifer, practically the epitome of evil?
Wait… She glanced down at the key in her hand. Could that actually work? Given past experience, Charlie knew on an intellectual level that it was a monumentally stupid idea. But here in the moment, with few choices and the lives of those she loved on the line, she was willing to take the risk.
Before she could chicken out, Charlie yanked the door open, only to let out an undignified squeal when she found Lucifer on the other side.
He quirked his lips. "There you are."
Charlie tried to recoil back a step, but the Devil was faster, and he lashed a hand out to grab her throat and squeeze. A startled gasp gushed out, and Charlie frantically clawed at the unrelenting arm. Lucifer lifted her a fraction so that her toes scrambled desperately at the floor.
Lucifer grinned. "Poor little kitten got snatched by the big bad wolf." He tutted. "Sam and Dean really should take better care of their pets."
Charlie mustered the courage to glare at him. If she truly was going to die here, it'd be with claws out and scratching. Working her other arm up, she shoved the key against his chest.
Lucifer glanced down in mild amusement. "That's not even the pointy end."
But then his expression shifted to confusion, and his grip on Charlie's throat loosened. Black spots flitted across her vision, but she saw when the key began to glow. Lucifer reacted, and as soon as his fingers wrapped around the device, Charlie wrenched herself away. She staggered back into some boxes, nearly doubling over as she gasped in oxygen.
Lucifer was staring at the key in curiosity. "What kind of power is this?" He tugged his arm as though to lift the key up for closer inspection, but frowned when it didn't budge. Charlie knew what came next. Anchored to an essence, the key had begun to dissect it, separating out the good and bad.
Wisps of blue plasma began swirling out from Lucifer's body. His face twisted in alarm and rage, and he had just enough time to shoot Charlie a murderous glare before the crackling light engulfed him in a haze. Then the pulsing aura began to blur and seep out to the sides, until they'd completely separated, and Charlie now found herself facing two identical Castiels. Or, she really hoped, one Castiel, one Lucifer.
The Castiel on the right staggered and blinked dazedly, while the one on the left glanced back and forth between them in stunned disbelief. Charlie really hoped she hadn't just made everything colossally worse.
"Well…" the one on the left said—definitely Lucifer. He raised one hand to examine it, then looked at the key in his other hand. "This is interesting."
Lucifer angled his gaze to the other Castiel—hopefully the real one—who still appeared disoriented. A grin cracked the Devil's face, and without warning, he gripped Castiel by his shirt front and threw him into the storage shelves. Metal buckled and clattered under the force as boxes rained down to bury Cas. Charlie flinched.
Lucifer turned toward her. Oh crap.
She let out a small squeak as she backed up.
Lucifer sauntered forward casually. "Now where did you get this?" he asked, twirling the key in his hand.
"Um…"
"You know I'm trying to help here, don't you?" Lucifer sighed in exasperation. "Who else is gonna defeat the Darkness? Now this," he paused and held up the key again, "is magic I've never seen before. So…"
Charlie's back hit the wall, and Lucifer closed the distance, trapping her. He leaned his face down toward hers, stopping mere centimeters away.
"Tell me where you got it," Lucifer commanded softly.
Charlie's stomach lurched, her heart rate palpitating at an unhealthy speed. "O-Oz," she stammered.
Lucifer's brow creased. "Oz? Never heard of it."
"It's another world. You-you need a portal." Dammit, what was she doing? She couldn't unleash the Devil on an unsuspecting Oz, on Dorothy. She flicked a glance toward the broken shelves, but Castiel had yet to get up.
"Interesting," Lucifer hummed thoughtfully, gaze dropping to the key again. "I suppose this might open said portal?"
Charlie swallowed hard. This wasn't what she'd had in mind at all.
Lucifer leaned back a fraction. "So, where do I find this portal?"
Every nerve fiber in her body was screaming at her to answer, because it remembered what happened when she defied a monster. So she clamped her jaw shut and shook her head, more to herself than to him. She would not fall apart. This was what it meant to fight on the side of good—sometimes it required sacrifice.
Lucifer sighed dramatically, and then like a cobra, lashed out to grab her arm and crank it back. Bone snapped and Charlie screamed. Her knees buckled and she dropped, tears spilling down her cheeks as Lucifer held her up by her broken arm. Not again, not again.
"Come on," Lucifer crooned. "It's rude to keep secrets."
Charlie let out a choked sob. "Any door." I'm sorry, Dorothy.
Lucifer released her arm, and she jerked it close to her body protectively. "That wasn't so hard, was it? And since you were so helpful, I'll be nice and give you a quick death. How's that sound?"
He raised a hand, fingers poised to snap. Charlie closed her eyes.
There was a scuffle from her right and a shout. Charlie's eyes flew open again in time to see Castiel tackle Lucifer, driving them both to the floor. They rolled, exchanging a few punches, and Charlie had no idea which was which anymore. She vaguely recalled the shape of the banishing sigil now, though if she used it, she'd banish Castiel too.
As the fight continued, Charlie began to be able to distinguish between the two: Castiel was slagging, his blows forceful but just a fraction slower than Lucifer's. Then the Devil gained the upper hand, landing punch after punch that drove Castiel to his knees, blood streaming from a variety of cuts on his face. Lucifer had one hand clamped on the other angel's shoulder, holding him up as Castiel swayed.
"I should kill you, Castiel." He paused, canting his head in consideration. "But I know leaving you alive will be an even worse torment for you."
Lucifer glanced at Charlie, who pressed herself harder against the wall, fighting back a whimper. The Devil merely smirked, shoved Castiel to the floor, and turned toward the door. He casually closed it, inserted the key, and then opened it again. Through the frame, the glittering realm of Oz shone, radiant sunlight spilling over the threshold to light the dingy storeroom.
Lucifer tossed a look over his shoulder. "Give Sam and Dean my regards." With that, he strode through the portal, taking the key and shutting the door behind him.
Charlie sagged. What had she done?
Her gaze drifted to Castiel, still lying on the floor. Grunting from the pain, she started crawling toward him. "Castiel?"
He lolled his head toward her, eyes clouded with anguish and confusion. "I don't understand," he rasped. "How did you…?"
"Um, I kinda went through this phase where Good-Me and Bad-Me were split into two people. And I thought…well, since Lucifer is evil and you're good, the key might separate you two." She gave him a half-guilty shrug. "It worked, right? I mean, it didn't split pieces of both of you into each other? Because I'm pretty sure there isn't a nice bone in the Devil's body." She was rambling, as she often did when her nerves were frayed.
Castiel frowned, gaze turning inward. "No. There's…there's no Lucifer."
Charlie let out a breath of relief. "That's good."
Castiel pushed himself up onto his elbows, expression darkening. "You're hurt."
She glanced at her broken arm. If she didn't move it, she could pretend the pain wasn't so bad. Talking also kinda hurt, and she figured she'd have finger-shaped bruises on her neck. Best to avoid mirrors if she didn't want to trigger a flashback…
"Charlie, I'm so sorry." Castiel reached two fingers toward her forehead. She thought she knew what to expect from the other times he had healed her, but there was no instantaneous dissolving of pain. She felt a tendril of warm energy seep into her skin and trickle down to her bruised throat, then her broken arm. She bit back a yelp when the bone fused back together, as though it'd been done manually. Only then did the pain recede.
Castiel collapsed.
"Cas!" Charlie gripped his shoulders and gave him a small shake. When he didn't rouse, her pulse started spiking again. What should she do? She looked around desperately before turning back to the angel and patting his cheek. "Come on, Castiel. Wake up."
He didn't. Sam and Dean would know what to do, but it'd be hours before they got back. Castiel was too heavy for Charlie to move on her own, and there was no way she was leaving him down here alone. Scooting closer, she lifted his head to pillow in her lap, and prayed the Winchesters would be back before Lucifer.