A/N: I AM SO FUCKING ANGRY AT THE WRITERS. NOT BECAUSE CHARLIE DIED because it'll happen some time, plus everyone dies in Supernatural, BUT BECAUSE IT WAS COMPLETELY ILLOGICAL AND RELIED ON THE STUPIDITY AND IRRESPONSIBLY OF THE CHARACTERS. There are 26546581531899411 WAYS CHARLIE COULD HAVE BEEN SAVED and here's just one. WOW.
Not only have they seriously fucked up in writing Charlie's death, but I'm also seriously pissed off on HOW MUCH THEY DOWNPLAY ANGELS. THEY'RE WARRIORS. Why is Castiel written so USELESSLY in this season and the last?!
Come Save Me
This was a gamble, she knew this was a gamble, but cold walls and evil witches? It wasn't helping her work on this codex at all. Charlie sprinted to the car Sam left her and turned the key while looking over her shoulder. Clear so far, and Castiel hadn't finished with Wicked Witch Reprise yet; Charlie's breath escaped her in a shuddering sigh. The motel wasn't far from the warehouse Sam had brought her to and it'd only taken her six minutes (six long, terrifying minutes) to jiggle the key into the door of the motel room. She closed the door and locked it quickly.
She wasn't an idiot (contrary to what some other kind of writers might think,) she knew the Styne family was still after the Book of the Damned and who was the last person they knew had it? Ding-ding! Charlie! So she had to be quick, and her brain was everything speedy, and if she only had a few minutes of quiet she knew she could crack it. It'd be worth it. For Dean.
And just as she knew she could, she'd done it. Matches found, she felt a spark of victory jump through her chest, and then settle cold again at the banging of the door.
Shit, she really thought she had more time than that. Snatching her computer, she retreated to the bathroom and locked the door. She couldn't hide forever, she knew, but she could stall for enough time to send the deciphered codex to Sam and Dean. She'd done it, she would have smiled if there wasn't, y'know, a murderer outside the door breaking furniture and emptying her backpack. Her heart beat faster and she shuddered in denial of fear. She would be brave.
And then—duh—She realizes there's an angel on her shoulder, quite literally, and though she'd never done it before, it seemed like a good enough shot. The intruder outside was knocking something else and throwing things around the room.
"Castiel?" she called to the open air, "Yeah, me, praying, and stuff… Um… Save me or something? Angels can do that ri—"
"Charlie," Castiel was suddenly next to her, his voice sharp and heavy with relief. "Where did you go? I told you not to move and left for one se—"
"Yeah, yeah, I'm an idiot! Focus that anger on the guy with a knife out there, yeah?"
"I'm not angry—"
Castiel's protest was cut short by the door bursting open. A man with—half an arm?—grinned at Charlie first and then his gaze darkened with it met Castiel's. Castiel stood in front of Charlie protectively, shoulders square and fists clenched.
"You got something I want. Give it to me now, and no one gets hurt," his voice was almost mechanical, and Charlie wondered how many times he'd said it before. Probably a lot.
Charlie's eyes flickered from the back of Castiel's head to the stranger's, and she swallowed thickly, knowing she had nothing to give. Castiel, however, didn't seem nearly as scared as she was, if anything he seemed livid and nearly ready to snap the guy's neck, (Charlie wondered why he didn't already.)
"You won't touch a hair on her head," Castiel threatened. His voice was low and powerful, carrying a presence that occupied more than the room.
"Yeah? Won't I?"
The man made a move, swiftly swinging a knife into Castiel's chest. Castiel, of course, remained unfazed. His eyes darkened and he reached and pulled the knife from his chest and dropped it on the floor, (honestly, Charlie wasn't sure why he'd do that instead of sticking it in the bastard's neck or something that seems like a better idea if you ask her.)
Instead, Castiel grabbed the man's neck and held him up off his feet against the wall with no effort at all. Charlie almost felt afraid herself. It was like there was this whole other presence in the room, and the man was held still against the wall as if by chains. Angels are powerful, (some writers might forget this from time to time,) absolute, and ruthless. Fully restored, Castiel hadn't had much chance to use his Grace to its full extent until now.
"No," he breathed, and the air around them moved in a gust of wind, "You won't."
It was at that moment Charlie thought he'd really snap his neck (finally,) but instead the man started to scream, and a bright light flowed from Castiel's fingertips throughout the man's body. Charlie felt cold inside, watching him writhe and shout, and after a full minute of agony, the bright light burst through his eyes (or what was left of them,) and he fell limp against the tile floor.
Charlie fisted her hands in her hoodie, breathing quickly, fearfully, still peering at Castiel's back. He seemed so much more… Frightening than when she's first met him, definitely more than she'd imagined. Was this the same dorky guy who smiled awkwardly when she'd bounced up to see him?
"I'm sorry," Castiel said eventually, "I suppose I should have been more merciful in your presence. I could see into his mind and what he was to do to you had I not been here."
After the last word, Castiel slowly turned and the atmosphere quieted down. She felt safer under his gaze, like a child might feel in their father's arms. She had a quick intake of breath, and she nodded up and down a few times.
"Yeah," she squeaked, "Um, yeah, that was pretty intense."
"I'm glad you're safe," Castiel's lips pinched into that awkward, dorky smile, and yep, everything was right again.
Charlie stood from where she'd pressed herself against the wall, grinning. "Thanks for coming to save me and everything, but like, you flew here, right? On actual wings?"
"Well, yes, I—They're damaged, but the distance was short and you were in distress—Yes."
Charlie smiled wider, "I've never been flying."
"Well, no, no humans have to my knowledge. At least not without mechanical aid."
Charlie rolled her eyes, "Fly me somewhere?"
"Back to where you should have never left," Castiel gave her a pointed glare, but it was weak under his sincere happiness.
"Pssh, I've got a little angel that'll come save me."