Author's Note: Major AU—takes place in a world without hunting. After all the angst on the show—hello mid-season finale, I'm looking at you!—I wanted to write something fluffy and happy and full of probably cheesy Christmas spirit. This is the result. To be clear, the boys aren't hunters. I will explain why John and Mary aren't in this story in a later chapter, but I'm going to be playing around with other characters and aspects of the show. If you don't like AU's of this nature, this story might not be for you. And yes, hurt!Sam will be coming. Because, as much of a lover of fluff as I am, I still love hurt!Sam a bit more. Please enjoy this first chapter!
"It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas
Soon the bells will start
And the thing that will make them ring
Is the Carol that you sing
Right within your heart."
—Michael Bublé, "It's Beginning to Look Like Christmas"
"Bless you dear." The old woman whispered as Charlie ladled warm corn chowder into her plastic bowl.
She was one of the regulars here at the soup kitchen where the redhead volunteered, Mrs. Winters, as she'd liked to be called. Her husband had died a few years before and she had fallen on hard times since, coming into the kitchen at least once a week. Her hair was powdered white and she was much too skinny to be healthy, still her smile was warm and she always would tell Charlie wonderful stories of days long gone by, the ones that old period movies seemed to be based on.
"You're welcome." Charlie ducked her head, embarrassed by the praise. A lot of the patrons who frequented the soup kitchen often refused to look her in the eye, ashamed of whatever circumstance brought them there. The self-proclaimed nerd did her best to try and be welcoming, but there was only so much she could do.
It was Christmas time at the soup kitchen. Garlands and plastic snowflakes hung from the walls. Happy snowmen beamed from their place at the tables. It was really a cheery sight, but for the people here, the holidays could be a distressing time. While everyone around them spent time with their families, eating decadent meals, many of the people here were homeless and often alone in the world.
"Charlie." Her supervisor, Anna Milton sauntered over to her, an easygoing grin on her peach lips. Anna was a kind, generous soul, one who had given up her own lucrative job as the manager of a large accounting firm to create this soup kitchen in Kansas. Her hair was auburn and curly—a new haircut, she'd explained a few days ago, to impress any guys she came across during the multitude of Christmas parties she'd be going to.
Charlie doubted that Anna had trouble getting dates—she was drop dead gorgeous in her opinion and if she wasn't straight, Charlie would've definitely fallen for her—but she still nodded her head in support all the same.
"How's it going?" Anna placed a warm hand on her shoulder, grinning.
"Well!" Charlie chirped, bright and energetic.
"You can get going in a few minutes," Anna informed her. "I know you said you had somewhere to be—"
The young woman's eyes widened as she processed her boss' words, "Oh! Yes, I'm meeting with someone."
Anna's eyes sparkled mischievously, "Who? A date?"
"No, no," Charlie shrugged, lowering her gaze shyly. "I told you before, I haven't got time to date."
It was true. Between her time at the soup kitchen and the other jobs she did around time, Charlie barely had a spare second for herself. That was okay though—she knew that when she accepted her fate that it wouldn't be easy. Pretty soon though, it would all be worthwhile.
By the time Christmas came, her wish would finally be granted.
"That's a shame," Anna's shoulders slumped, sighing somewhat, "I know a great girl who would be just perfect for you—"
Charlie's alarm began to go off, the soft tinkling of bells interrupting her supervisor's words.
"Sorry!" She dropped the ladle, almost spilling burning soup on her arms. Wincing, Charlie backed away from the pot, "I have to run."
"Got it." Anna took her place, grinning. "Have fun!"
Grinning, Charlie waved as she sprinted out the door.
"Wow, Kevin," Charlie took a sip of her warm tea, smiling softly at the young teen before her. "So, you've done everything?"
"Yeah," Kevin nodded his head enthusiastically, almost spilling his cup of coffee onto the table from the force, "Today's my last day."
The young woman frowned, a bittersweet feeling welling up within her heart. She knew, of course, that this day would come. When she had first met Kevin, she'd been so happy to meet somehow like her, in practically her same situation. She'd clung to him those first few weeks and he, bless him, helped her learn her duties.
And now, he was leaving her.
"So, I guess this is goodbye?" She tried to smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. She should be happy for Kevin. This was the culmination of everything he'd worked for the past few months—she should be celebrating with him, not almost crying in front of him.
"For now." He placed a warm hand on hers and grinned.
"What are you going to do when you get back?"
He thought for a moment, biting his lower lip, before meeting her gaze once more. With a voice barely above a whisper, he admitted, "I want to hug my mom."
Charlie couldn't help but laugh. Kevin was a mama's boy, that much she knew, but she was happy for him. He had a family to return to, one who would love him and protect him.
He was really lucky.
"Hey," He caught her attention. "Let's meet again."
It was highly improbable that they would meet again. After today, he would be back with his family and his memories of this time—of her—would be gone. That was the trade off, of course. You couldn't get something for nothing, after all.
"Yeah."
And though her heart was breaking, she still managed a watery grin.
"Charlie Bradbury."
She froze in the middle of her tiny kitchen, knowing that monotone voice better than any other in the world.
"Castiel." She greeted with a grin, turning off the burner of the stove in order to the face the angel. She motioned for him to sit, but the angel stood stiffly in the corner, tucked away by her refrigerator. She tried to suppress a laugh—despite having known the angel for almost two months, he still surprised her by how awkward he could be.
"You've made great progress." He stated, the closest thing that he would ever get to a smile on his lips as his cerulean eyes locked onto her gaze. "Heaven is pleased."
"I'm glad." She grinned.
"We have deemed that you only have one more task to complete before your wish is granted."
Her mouth fell open and she quickly forced it shut.
"Really?" She exclaimed, wanting to jump for joy.
"Yes," The angel nodded his head. "You have until Christmas to mend a broken soul."
"A broken soul?" She echoed, the word foreign on her tongue. She racked her brain to try and decipher their meaning. All of her other tasks until now had been simple—volunteer her time, help people in the town. This, by far, was the most cryptic.
"Yes. A broken soul."
"And how will I know—?"
"You'll know."
Then, in a flutter of wings, the angel was gone.
"Cryptic much, Castiel?" She exclaimed, though she knew it would do her no good. Heaven had made up its mind. She had one more task to fulfill before her wish was granted. She would find this broken soul and she would definitely fix it in no time flat!
And then, she would finally be able to live her life again.
Tuesdays and Thursday nights, she volunteered at the local hospital. She helped clean sheets, distributed food and tried her best to cheer up the patients that she visited.
In room 248, for example, a gruff man named Bobby Singer was recovering from a bad fall off his ladder. His leg was broken and though he was perfectly fine, he'd been admitted on his wife's request after she found him running around on his cast. Mrs. Singer was a sheriff in the next town over and from what Charlie had been able to understand, she wasn't someone to be trifled with.
A lot of the other volunteers wouldn't go near Bobby and to be fair, he was pretty intimidating. He cursed at the TV often and loudly, his gaze was always narrowed and it seemed like he was perpetually grumpy. In fact, the first night she'd encountered him, he had yelled at her for bringing him the wrong food order. Charlie; however, had refused to be intimidated and told him that he got what he got and he better not throw a fit.
Bobby had sputtered for a moment and then laughed, calling her "one hell of a girl" and said she was welcome to visit him anytime.
So, she did.
Every night she volunteered, she made sure to snag him a sandwich from the wonderful shop downtown and sneak it to him. Then, they'd talk about her day and how his doctor was a "fucking idiot" and she'd try not to laugh.
Tonight was no exception.
"Mr. Singer, I brought you your—"
There was a young man in the room with vibrant green eyes and a well-worn leather jacket. He gave her a cursory glance as she entered the room and then sighed, like she was wasting his time.
"Oh, Charlie, come in!" Bobby called, the happiest she'd seen him since he got here.
"Uh, sure." She awkwardly stepped into the room, trying not to stare at the man who was glaring at her.
"Dean, this is Charlie."
Dean didn't acknowledge her.
"Charlie, this is Dean Winchester. He's the closest thing I've got to a son."
High praise coming from Bobby. He didn't strike her as the man who kept a large circle of friends or family.
"Nice to meet you." She extended her hand; he did not shake.
"Bobby, I've got to go—" Dean's voice was husky, much deeper than she had initially imagined it. His hair was somewhat askew and there were dark bags under his eyes. Was he getting enough sleep, she wondered idly, or maybe he was sick?
"Yeah, sure," Bobby dismissed him, nodding his head. "Say hi to Sam for me."
"Will do." He brushed past her on his way out of the room.
"Don't mind him," Bobby caught her attention, his eyes still locked on the door where Dean left. "This time of year is always hard for him."
Her ears perked up, "Yeah? Why?"
"It's a long story." Bobby replied quietly.
"I see." She didn't, but she couldn't help but feel like she should go after Dean. There was something stirring within her—a longing to connect with him, a desire to help him—and Castiel's voice rang within her ears.
You'll know.
Dean had a broken soul and it was her job to fix it.
And once she did, her wish would finally be granted.
She hesitated in front of the door.
Bobby had given her the address and after a few well-placed lies on her part that she was surprised he'd bought—The hospital really wants its volunteers to connect more with family members, you know, and offer our support—she'd gotten in her trusty car and drove the half an hour away to this very impressive building. It wasn't really a house, more of a bunker, like those built in the 50's in case of a nuclear disaster.
"What am I doing?" She whispered to herself.
She didn't know Dean Winchester. She knew next to nothing about him. For all she knew, he could be a creepy serial killer who abducted and tortured redheads for fun. Here she was, going off a weird feeling in her gut, approaching a stranger's door in order to convince him to let her help heal his broken soul.
Yeah, that totally didn't sound crazy.
But, Castiel had said that she would know whom to heal.
And at the hospital, while shaking Dean's hand, she felt such a profound agony in her chest that she ached and wanted to burst into tears. That was the pain he carried around with him day after day.
She had to fix it.
"So, Red, you going to knock or what?" A joking voice inquired and Charlie huffed out a laugh as she faced the archangel who was sitting on the hood of her car.
"Gabriel, hey," She greeted, coming down the steps to meet him. "I thought you were busy doing some sort of official business." That's what Castiel had told her when she'd inquired after him.
"Official business?" Gabriel echoed, barely suppressing a laugh. "Yeah, right, Red. Can you imagine me doing official business?"
"No, not really." She confessed sheepishly.
"Heard Kevin got his wish," Gabriel mentioned casually, much too casually and her gaze dropped. "You okay with that?"
"I'm happy for him." She forced herself to say. "He gets to go back to his life."
"He won't remember you though." Gabriel stated softly.
"I know." She whispered.
There was silence for a bit.
"So, what about you?" Gabriel pointed towards the bunker. "This for a job?"
"Yeah, actually." She answered. "I'm supposed to heal a broken soul."
Gabriel's nose wrinkled up in disgust and chuckled, "Yeah, cause that's not cryptic."
"That's exactly what I said!" Charlie exclaimed, her voice much too loud.
"Good luck, Red."
"Wait, Gabriel where are you—?"
"Hey, you!" A voice shouted and Charlie spun around to see Dean Winchester standing in the open doorway. "What the hell do you want?"
The young woman cringed she grimaced. So much for a battle strategy, she thought.
She took a few steps towards the doorway and Dean's eyes narrowed.
"You're the girl from the hospital," He deduced. "Is everything okay with—?"
"Mr. Singer is totally fine!" Charlie explained rapidly. "Sorry, I, uh, well, I—"
"Out with it." Dean spat.
"Dean Winchester." She met his gaze, refusing to be intimidated. This was what she was meant to do. He needed her help and she would give it to him, regardless of whether or not he wanted it.
"Dean Winchester," She spoke again, her voice louder and more confident, "My name is Charlie Bradbury and I'm here to fix your broken soul."
Author's Note: I know there are a lot of unresolved questions, especially regarding Charlie's situation, but I don't want to give everything away now. I will explain what is going on slowly over the course of the story. Next chapter will feature a lot of Sam! I hope you guys will stick with me as I delve into this AU world. Please review if you have a moment! Thanks!
