Heaven was different this time around.
The last time she was here, she had immediately woken up to find herself surrounded by loved ones on the best day of her life. It had seemed so real, it was almost disappointing to be yanked back down into her body and to wake up in the Winchesters' bunker with nothing but a fading memory.
This time, though, she found herself sitting in what looked like a waiting room in a generic doctor's office, surrounded by other bored-looking people flipping through issues of Heaven Today: What the New System Means for Your Afterlife. There was a copy in front of her, but she didn't bother. Dean had told her that heaven was a place where you got to relive your greatest memories for eternity. A few hours and she figured she would be back at Christmas dinner with her family, only pausing occasionally to wonder how her adopted family was holding up.
Every once in awhile, someone dressed in a professional-looking suit (probably and angel) would come and speak briefly to someone before ushering them out of the room. Soon, Charlie was the only one left, with nothing but the faint ticking of a nearby faceless clock to keep her company.
Someone cleared their throat, and she turned to find herself face to face with a well-dressed man with dark hair and a five o' clock shadow. She jumped to her feet.
"Sorry," she said. "Hi. What's up?"
The man looked bewildered for a split second, but quickly regained control of his face. "Celeste Middleton?" he said.
Charlie bit her lip. "Technically, yes," she said. "But I haven't gone by that name in a long time."
The man smiled. "I know," he said. "We've been keeping an eye on you for some time now."
"Why me?"
"Anyone so closely associated with the Winchesters is, shall we say, a person of interest. Very few people were ever as close as you."
Charlie felt a twinge of annoyance. "So, what?" she said. "You've been keeping tabs on me in case I'm a threat or something?"
The man's eyes widened. "Not at all!" he said quickly. "In fact, it's thanks to us you managed to get the Book of the Damned to the Winchesters in the first place."
"What do you mean?" Charlie demanded.
"The Mark of Cain is very dangerous," the man explained. "The idea of Dean Winchester having it is...troubling, to say the least. We're doing everything we can to ensure that it's removed."
"Because you're worried he'll find a way up here and kill you all? Or are you guys suddenly best friends or something?"
The man looked uncomfortable. "I'm not fond of Dean Winchester," he said, "but even I won't deny that the world is a better place for having him and his brother in it. Besides, I'm mostly doing this as a favor for...for a friend."
Whatever answer Charlie was expecting, it wasn't that. "A friend? You guys have friends? I mean, I know Cas is weirdly fond of the Winchesters, but I always thought he was just different."
At the mention of Castiel, the man actually flinched. "It doesn't matter," he said, not meeting Charlie's eye. "I'm not here to discuss the Winchesters in any case. I'm here for you, Celeste. Or Charlie, if you prefer."
Interesting, Charlie thought, making a mental note to annoy this guy's history with Cas out of him if she got the chance. The man lowered himself into one of the chairs and motioned for her to do the same.
"Now, I understand from your file that this isn't your first time here," he said as Charlie sat down. "I don't think I need to explain where you are or what happened."
Charlie shook her head. She could still feel that jerk's knife piercing her belly. She wondered if Sam and Dean had found her body yet and how they would react.
"I'm in heaven," she said. "You're an angel. And you're probably here to take me to my greatest memories so I can spend the rest of eternity reliving them in an endless Groundhog Day-style loop, right?"
The man smiled and shook his head. "There's been a few changes," he said. "After a recent incident, we determined keeping each soul isolated in their own personal heaven was doing more harm than good. No one's immune to loneliness even in the afterlife, and not knowing how your living loved-ones are can make the experience more painful than pleasant."
Charlie felt a surge of hope. "You mean I'll be able to see Sam and Dean?" she asked.
"Not every minute of every day," said the man, "but you'll certainly be able to check in on them once in awhile. Communication won't be permitted, of course, but you should be able to see and hear."
"So, what, you interrupt Christmas dinner with my parents once in awhile to update me on what my boys are doing?"
"We also eliminated what you call the 'Groundhog Day' aspect," the man said. "Your experiences in heaven will be genuine and new, although based around the people, places, and things you knew while you were alive."
The man suddenly pulled a file - neatly labeled "Middleton, Celeste (1987-2015)" - and began flipping through the pages. "Your connection with the Winchesters certainly makes things more complicated," he said, "but Mr. Miles got in touch before I came here and said, and I quote 'If you don't get that glorious ginger nerd in here I swear to your dad I will hit the reset button and get you and all your feathery friends sent back to earth for good.'"
"I don't know anyone named Miles," Charlie pointed out.
"No," said the man. "But the Winchesters did and he's taken quite an interest in you."
He stood up. "Everything seems to be in order," he said. "If you'll follow me, I'd like to show you where you'll be spending eternity."
Charlie hesitantly followed as the man led her to a gray door. It would have looked very professional if it weren't for the words "Dr. Badass is ALWAYS in" scrawled on in what looked like red spray-paint. Something niggled in the back of her memory, like "Dr. Badass" was something she should know from a book, but for the life of her she couldn't remember where she'd heard it.
The man touched the door handle and the lock clicked. As Charlie watched, the door slowly swung open to reveal something she hadn't been expecting to see.
She was standing in what looked like a crowded roadside bar. Classic rock blared from the jukebox in the corner as two women carefully navigated their way through the crowded room carrying trays of the most delicious looking burgers Charlie had ever seen and lots of alcohol. Most of the tables were full, and the pool table was currently in use, though not for game purposes. Instead, a guy with a mullet was sprawled out on the carpeted surface, happily typing away on the most high-tech laptop Charlie had ever seen. There was something so familiar about it that for a split second, she almost felt homesick. Then she caught sight of the faded sign on the wall that read "Harvelle's Roadhouse: So Good, It's Heavenly."
"No way," she muttered, turning back to the man who had led her there. The professional, stoic look was gone, replaced by something almost wistful.
"If you need anything," he said, "just let me know. You can get in touch by praying, or you can ask Mr. Miles over there, to get my attention." He motioned to the guy with the mullet.
"I don't know your name," Charlie blurted. "So how will I pray to you?"
"Hannah," the man said. "My name's Hannah."
With that, he turned and left, the door clicking shut behind him.
The sound seemed to draw Mullet Miles' attention because he glanced up from what he was doing. When he saw Charlie, his jaw dropped.
"All right!" he said, jumping to his feet (still on the pool table) and clapping to get everyone's attention. "Ladies and gentleman, Genius #2 is in the house!"
The chatter suddenly died down and everyone turned to look at her. Charlie was never really one to get self-conscious, but she suddenly felt like she wanted to hide in a corner.
Mullet Miles seemed to have other ideas, though. He leapt off the table and pushed his way through the crowd to her side.
"The name's Ash," he said, clapping her on the shoulder. "It's awesome to finally meet you, Charlie Bradbury. Your work on the Dick Roman thing? Probably the coolest thing I've seen since I died. And I say this as someone who once invented a computer program designed to track demonic activity!"
Everything suddenly clicked into place. "You're Ash!" Charlie exclaimed, grabbing his hand and pumping it furiously in an over-enthusiastic handshake. "You were like my favorite character in the Supernatural books! I was so pissed when you died I actually threw the book against the wall!"
Ash grinned. "Hey, everyone, I've got a fan!" he said to the room in general. A couple guys rolled their eyes. The woman behind the bar threw a dish towel at him, but he dodged it pretty easily.
"I've got a pretty sweet setup here," he said, grabbing Charlie's arm and practically dragging her over to the pool table where he'd left his laptop. "See, Hannah's trying to make heaven a better experience or whatever, but we only get to check in on the people we care about once in awhile and sometimes they forget. Either that or they don't want us seeing what Sam and Dean are up to in case we don't like what we see and try to do something stupid like break out and try to help."
"Does that ever happen?" Charlie asked as Ash climbed back on the pool table and picked up his laptop again.
Ash snorted. "That's why Hannah decided to try to change the system," he said. "Bobby broke out not too long ago, released every Robert Singer in heaven, and helped that one angel break in and leave with heaven's most high security prisoner."
"Oh yeah, I heard about that. Didn't realize it was that big a deal, though."
"Yeah, I had to promise Hannah that I would help track down Mega-douche to get Bobby out of solitary," Ash said. "Anyway, like I said: we're allowed to check in on the living once in awhile, but nowhere near as often as we'd like. So I managed to set up a program that basically gives us a live feed of everyone alive on earth. Just put in their name and presto!"
He hit a key and turned the screen to face Charlie. On it, she saw Sam and Dean sitting dejectedly at one of the bunker's tables, both holding a beer and giving the other the silent treatment.
Charlie suddenly felt guilty. She knew their sadness was because of her. As she watched, Cas walked in, clasped Dean's shoulder reassuringly, and eased himself into the seat across from him. He leaned forward and said something Charlie couldn't hear.
"Is there sound?" she asked. Ash shook his head.
"The one wrinkle I couldn't iron out," he said bitterly. "That's where I was hoping you could help, my red-headed comrade."
Charlie arched her eyebrows. "You think I can figure this out?" she said.
"Of course you can. You're a genius," Ash responded immediately, punching her shoulder and handing her the laptop. "Now get to work. I'll talk to Ellen about bringing you some food."
With that, he hopped off the pool table and made for the bar.
The program was one of the most complicated that Charlie had ever seen, taking into account dimensions that she hadn't even known existed. It took her about an hour just to figure out what she was looking at. Even from there, though, finding a single programming error would have taken forever.
Good thing she had forever. She settled down at a corner table and got to work.
What felt like hours later, but what could have very easily been minutes or even days, someone slid into the seat across from her, breaking her concentration entirely.
"What?" she snapped and then immediately felt bad. "Sorry," she said. "That was uncalled for. I mean 'what can I do for you?'"
The guy was older with a redneck beard and a worn trucker's cap. He looked like a walking stereotype of a hunter (the animal kind, not the supernatural kind). There was no doubt in Charlie's mind who the guy was.
"Bobby Singer," he said, holding out his hand. "Paranoid bastard."
Charlie giggled and shook his proffered hand. "Is that really necessary in a place like this?" she asked.
Bobby shrugged. "Not really, but it breaks the ice in this crowd," he said, motioning to the bar's many patrons.
"Are they all hunters?"
"Most of them. Some of them were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Like that blonde girl over there? Her name is Jess Moore. She was Sam's girlfriend at Stanford."
The famous Jess was even more gorgeous than Charlie had expected. She let out a low whistle. "Sam did good," she said. "Poor girl, though."
"You can say that again," said Bobby. "Look, I didn't mean to bother you. I just came over here to apologize for nearly screwing things up for you that night at Roman Enterprises."
Charlie smirked. "Honestly? I'm kind of glad you did. I don't think I would have been able to force myself to go in without that flask. No harm, no foul, right?"
"Still, it was irresponsible of me," he said. "And I'm sorry."
Charlie studied him for a moment before jumping up from her seat and hugging him. "No need for that, Bobby," she said as she felt his shoulders stiffen. "If it weren't for you, I never would have met those boys."
She released him and Bobby awkwardly patted her shoulder.
"You're a good kid, Charlie," he said. "I'm sorry you got mixed up in all this."
"Well, I'm not," she insisted. "These last few years have been the best of my life."
There was an awkward pause, and Charlie sat back down to study the program some more, only for Bobby to once more pull her out of her thoughts.
"Charlie," he said. "There's someone else who wants to meet you."
She looked up and saw two people standing uncomfortably a few feet away from her table. The woman was blonde and beautiful with familiar-looking green eyes. She was wearing a simple white t-shirt and a pair of jeans, like a soccer mom, but something about her warned Charlie that there was more than met the eye. The man with his arm around her was scruffier looking with dark hair and sad eyes that had clearly seen to much. His clothes were old and shabby and his hands were calloused like he was used to working with them. His dark, long-sleeved shirt was open - possibly because he was missing a couple of buttons - and the sleeves were rolled up to the elbows. The gray t-shirt he wore underneath was covered in grease stains and his jeans were ripped in several places. As disheveled as he looked, they were clearly his favorite clothes.
"Do you mind if we join you?" he asked. Charlie shook her head mutely and he and the blonde woman pulled up a couple of chairs. The matching silver bands on their left hands glinted in the sunlight. Husband and wife then.
"It's nice to finally meet you," the blonde woman said. "I just wish it were under better circumstances."
"The same goes for me," her husband added. He reached out and grabbed his wife's hand. It was then that Charlie noticed another ring on the blonde woman's finger: one that she had once asked Dean about and had never gotten a straight answer.
"John and Mary Winchester?" she asked softly, almost reverently. The blonde woman smiled and nodded.
"That's us," she said. "We just wanted to thank you for doing so much for our sons when we couldn't."
Charlie blushed. "I really didn't do much," she stammered. "I mean, sure I helped with the computer stuff, but Sam was pretty good on his own for the most part. And I was never that great a hunter, really and -"
"That's a load of crap," insisted John. "You think we don't know the whole story? Come on, Charlie, you read the books. You know Ash was already working on fixing heaven before Hannah came along. After the boys left that time, he managed to track Mary and I down and started working on that program you're looking at right now. It hasn't been perfect, but we've been able to keep an eye on things. And Bobby filled us in on the rest just the other day. Or was it the other week? I don't know. Time's weird here."
"The point is," said Mary, "you were good for them and we couldn't be happier to have you as part of our family."
"That's right," said Bobby. "Family don't end in blood, girl."
Charlie felt a lump in her throat and had to wipe her eyes before she could even respond. "I knew you were going to say that," she joked, her voice a little tight. "That was always one of my favorite quotes, you know. It got me through a lot of rough times."
Bobby looked sad. "You never really had a family growing up, did you?"
Charlie shook her head. "Not for a long time. Not until Sam and Dean came along and turned my world upside down."
The three of them smiled at each other. "Those are my boys," Mary said proudly. She squeezed her husband's hand. "You did good, honey."
John looked embarrassed. "I did alright," he said. "I just wish I could've given them a better life. One they deserved."
Charlie thought back to the Carver Edlund books. Her initial impression of John Winchester hadn't been favorable. She'd thought he was a jerk for dragging the boys into the hunting life at such a young age, denying them a normal childhood and eventually alienating Sam. But then she'd kept reading, and even after he'd died, John Winchester had surprised her. As more of Azazel's sinister plot was revealed and the events leading up to the Apocalypse began to unfold, she began to understand him more and more.
"You knew," she said. "You knew something was after Sam."
John nodded. "I found Mary's journal in the drawer of her nightstand not long after the fire," he said. "At first, I couldn't believe what I was reading. I thought maybe she'd been writing a book or something but didn't tell me. But then I found an entry from November 2, 1973."
"The day you died and you made a deal with Azazel," Charlie guessed, glancing between the two of them.
Mary nodded. "I wrote about it in my journal," she said, "and then I couldn't bear to throw it out. I only remembered what day it was when I saw John passed out in front of the TV and knew that the demon had gotten into Sammy's nursery."
She looked so guilty, Charlie wanted to hug her, but John beat her to it. "That was when I went to see Missouri Mosely," he said. "Mary mentioned her in the last entry she ever made and said she might be able to help. So I went to her and found out the truth."
Charlie grinned. "I liked her," she said. "Is she here somewhere?"
"No," said John, shaking his head. "Missouri's still in Lawrence, Kansas, helping out hunters whenever she can. Last I checked, she and that Cassie girl Dean used to date were working to help put people's lives back together after supernatural attacks."
"Wow," said Charlie. "Wish I could help with that."
"You might be able to," said a voice from behind her. Ash pulled up a chair and looked over her shoulder at the laptop screen. "She's one of the few people I can communicate with," he said. "Pamela helped me figure that out. She's psychic so she's really in-tune to the spiritual world as it is. Sometimes I can hack the signal and send her a message."
"How often can you get through?"
"Not too often," Ash admitted. "Psychic connections tend to work best if it's more personal to the psychic in question. I never met her. Usually, I can only get through if I can get John to relay the message."
"Because they were friends," said Charlie. An idea started forming. "Ash, when you were trying to make the sound work on this program, did you consider personal connections as a factor?"
Ash scratched his head. "No," he admitted. "I never really thought of that. Why? Do you have an idea?"
"It's crazy," she said, "but it just might work."
She turned to the laptop and started to type, focusing on the Winchester brothers as much as she could. She thought about Dean's weird love of pie and Sam's desire to finish reading the books before she spoiled "Game of Thrones" for him. Practically every minute she spent with the two of them flooded through her memory as she added just two lines to the program:
"I LOVE YOU."
"I KNOW."
The laptop's speakers suddenly crackled to life and Dean's voice filled the room, sounding more broken than Charlie had ever heard it before. He was shouting at Sam, angry at his brother for lying to him about the Book of the Damned. It was so loud, everyone in the bar looked up, surprised. Jess actually dropped her drink and started crying when Sam replied. Despite the anger in the brothers' voices, Charlie couldn't help but grin. Ash gave her a high five.
"What did you do?" he asked, turning the volume down and staring at her in wonder.
"This is heaven," she replied. "I figure the limits of science and computer programming don't necessarily apply here. As long as you love the person you're trying to see - and as long as they know it - you should be able to hear and see everything they hear and see. Your computer basically establishes psychic links, right?"
"Yeah."
"So I just set up a low-level psychic connection."
Mary let out a sob and hugged Charlie so tightly she probably would have started suffocating if she'd still been alive. John and Bobby both beamed with pride, and that was when she knew that they really did consider her family - just like Sam and Dean. When Mary released her, she turned back to Ash.
"You have a projector?"
"Un momento," he said. He turned to another blonde who looked like she was holding back tears. "Hey, Jo, what'd you do with that projector?"
Jo smiled. "It's in the back," she said. "I'll go get it."
She was back in less than a minute (one of the advantages to fluid time in heaven) and Ash and Charlie hooked it up almost as quickly. A moment later, the image of the boys from the laptop screen appeared on a blank wall.
"Ladies and gentlemen, our newest program, 'Winchester Watch' has officially begun!" Ash announced as the crowd of people gathered excitedly around the screen. The woman behind the bar - who Charlie assumed was Ellen Harvelle herself - began popping popcorn, although she was just as engrossed as everyone else in the boys' argument.
Charlie smiled to herself as she watched Bobby, John, Mary, Ellen, and a few others start shouting suggestions at the boys to cut the crap and just make up already while Jo started a betting pool on who would win and how long it would last. As much as she wanted to join in the fun, though, Charlie had something she needed to take care of first.
"Hey there, Hannah," she prayed. "What's a girl have to do to get her hands on a laptop up here?"
She blinked and found herself looking at an exact replica of the tablet she'd destroyed only moments before her death. "Thanks, Hannah," she whispered as she opened the browser (the icon looked like Chrome but with wings). She was immediately taken to a home page and greeted by a welcome message in gold letters:
Welcome to the New Heaven!
As you can see we have been doing a little reconstruction. Tearing down the walls of each personal heaven is a long process, but we'd like to make your experience a little easier. The heavens are not yet wholly connected, but we're working on building roads and paths that will allow for easier travel. You will be placed in a heaven based on our best judgment of what you cared about in life, but may find yourself separated from some of your beloved departed. To make the search easier, we've created this site that will allow you to locate anyone who is currently in heaven simply by typing their name into the search bar below. Please contact Hezekiah with any questions.
Who are you looking for?
Charlie couldn't help but smile. She wished Cas could see this more than anything. The angels had come a long way since Dark Side of the Moon and he would be so proud of his brothers and sisters.
"Gertrude Middleton," she typed into the search bar. There was barely any delay before the list of results came up.
She was going to talk to her mother.