I have taken a liking to these episode tags. ;) Here is my adaptation of what happened after 8.20.
All rights reserved for Kripke for the wonderful world of SPN, and Tolkien for the borrowed snippets from The Hobbit.
The book trembled in her hands. She neared the end of the page, of the book, of her decision, and she still didn't feel ready.
Then the last lines fell into place;
"'You are a very fine person, Mr. Baggins,'" Charlie read, her voice no where near the deep, commanding voice she always imagined Gandalf would speak through. It sounded much too high and cracked for the wizard… "'And I am very fond of you; but you are only quite a little fellow in a wide world after all!'"
A small, sad smile wormed its way onto her face, and she paused a moment as childhood memories swam just out of reach. Younger years, innocent times, unreachable moments; they were all presented, and they were all so far behind in her past they were almost like dreams. Almost.
"'Thank goodness!' said Bilbo," concluded Charlie. How her mother had done the voices of each character so well was beyond the girl's comprehension. Charlie was having trouble just keeping her tone even!
Her hands shook more with the strain to appear normal. Normal, Charlie, come on, you got this, she mentally coaxed herself. Just finish the book, for her.
The voice that squeaked out was barely a whisper now, the book nearly tumbling from her unsteady, trembling grasp.
"...laughing…and handed him, the tobacco-jar.'"
A snap, a sharp intake, a shuffle, and a gulp,
Charlie stood by the door with one hand on the handle and one on the strap of her bag, as if she were waiting for a sign from the comatose woman; giving her on last chance before the nurses were signalled and things went beyond the control of some geeky hacker.
A wave of emotion so strong knocked into Charlie as she stepped away from the door. She never got to say goodbye. She never got to hear her mom read her to bed one last time. She never had time to reaffirm her love to conscious ears... or say sorry.
Brown eyes fell through the window and landed on the peaceful, sleeping figure once more and the tears came thick and fast, however much they continued in silence.
Sometimes you had to let go of the ones you loved most in the world. And sometimes it was necessary.
It was Dean's low tones that she replayed in her head after that, repeating the words of their last meeting; words Charlie thought she had banned from her head a long time ago:
Sorry, kid. But you gotta let them go sometimes.
Charlie raised her hand, a gap in the centre between her middle and ring fingers. A bittersweet goodbye to the woman who made Charlie the Charlie she was today, who introduced her to everything she loved, the one she cared about most. All she wished now was for the woman – her mother – to end up somewhere better, somewhere safe. And seeing where things were headed on Earth, it was only a matter of time before Charlie followed just behind.
But until that happened? She made the silent promise to keep on fighting, no matter what anyone else was thinking.
That was something she could keep.
He took to writing poetry and visiting the elves; and though many shook their heads and touched their foreheads and said "Poor old Baggins!" and though few believed any of his tales, he remained very happy to the end of his days, and those were extraordinarily long.