Charlie narrowly missed a fatal blow to the head as she was pushed into the bathtub. At least it might have ended it all faster. Eldon didn't need to go on. She'd lost too much blood to put up a real fight anymore. It wasn't fun if there wasn't a fight or at least a chase. She'd bleed out soon enough, no point sitting around to watch.

Eldon smirked at her, muttering something too quiet to hear, her hearing beginning to muffle and deteriorate, and making his escape.

She couldn't breathe, her breaths growing harsh and laboured as she desperately got air into her lungs. It couldn't be much longer now.

Sam, I have to call Sam, Charlie thought, but even thinking of clambering out of the tub and retrieving her cell from the other side of the room was too much. Her limbs were heavy, useless. There was no way she could get help. The effort to get her phone may kill her quicker.

The loss of feeling had taken over her feet and begun to creep up her legs.

She'd never see Dorothy again, never thank her for the adventure she'd always longed for. Charlie missed her, they'd grown so close in Oz before they parted ways. If only they had more time together.

The numbness spread from her fingers, her vision beginning to cloud while stars sparkled and danced before her eyes.

She'd miss the LARP community. She'd only just got back in contact with Moondoor. Of course, her time away meant she'd lost her crown, the kingdom was ruled by the elves now. But she'd loved every minute of being a follower of the Moon prior to her coronation and was happy to get back to that. The former Queen trusted her kingdom was in good hands.

She couldn't feel her legs at all anymore.

Hopefully Rowena would be kept under raps. She caused this, she made her leave that place, find herself a motel where she could work without distraction. She was the reason she'd ended up in this bathtub. Rowena was up to something, Charlie was sure of it. And took great pleasure of toying with Cas and Sam.

Her arms weighed a ton, They were compleely numb.

Cas, oh, Cas. They'd barely met but she adored him. She only wished she could have met him sooner, had more time to get to know him. He's a good man, or angel, or whatever he wants to be called. I shouldn't have run off she thought, I should have at least told him. No point being frustrated at her own stupidity now, there was more blood in this bathroom than there was in her body down. It was too late.

Her arms were numb, the numbness climbing up her neck.

More than anyone, Charlie wanted to talk to Sam. She knew those boys well enough, she didn't have to have read the Supernatural books to be aware of the younger Winchesters's dangerously low opinion of himself. He didn't recognise his capability. He'd pin any blame he possibly could onto himself that he possibly could. Sam Winchester would pile guilt, rage and blame on himself for her death. She wished she could talk to him. She wished she could get up, get her phone and call him, tell him that she doesn't blame him – it was her own fault, for running off like she did. Tell him he can do this, he can get that mark off Dean, he can fix everything. Tell him he's smart, brave, so strong. Tell him to keep fighting, keep doing what he does. Tell him he's the big brother she never had and thank him for helping her, saving her, and accepting her as his family. She wished he was here, wished he could grab her up in one of his giant bear hugs her head tucked under his chin, taking in his warmth as she finally let go. But she wouldn't want to make him go through that, watch another of his loved ones slip away in front of him. She couldn't do that to him.

She couldn't forget Dean. He wasn't himself, she knew that, but the thought of him grilling his brother over her death made her chest clench through the numbness. She loved Dean, of course, but knowing he will mostly turn to rage upon losing her, and take out that rage on Sam, hurt her. She didn't want to cause this between them, she didn't want to be the reason that Dean hurts Sam. She didn't particularly want to be the reason for causing them grief in the first place.

The Woman of Letters closed her eyes, her eyelids too heavy, struggling to catch her breath as the end was clearly looming.

After everything, she was grateful for the time she had. The sixteen years of her life after losing her parents had been unbearable at times, so much so that she'd tried several times to end it, only stopped if she thought of her parents, or that time a stranger literally walked her off a ledge, or the time she was found in a motel room and rushed to hospital before it was too late. If only she could tell her twelve year old self that it really does get better. That when she's twenty-eight, she'd meet two guys, two guys that would change everything. With the faintest of smiles, Charlie drew her last breath.

Charlie gaped at the sight of her own body. She was grey, so lifeless, blood everywhere. The familiar rumble of the Impala distracted her from her sadness. It wasn't as gentle a rumble as she remembered and enjoyed. The engine was roaring, the car had been speeding. The Winchesters were desperate to get to her, and they were just seconds from finding they were too late.

Sam called out her name, and he was suddenly in view. Charlie said his name in return, walked towards him, but of course he couldn't see nor hear. She was a spirit, yet to be reaper and nothing to the mortal world.

And there was Dean, both her brothers had rushed to her aid, the adrenalin flushed away by shock, guilt and grief.

Sam's reaction caused a sob to catch in Charlie's throat. The tears streamed down his face. He wretched, having to cover his mouth in fear of throwing up. She could see the guilt plastered all over his face. He approached the bathtub, collapsing to his knees beside it and beginning to cry helpless, mournful cries from a man pushed way beyond his limits, lost too many. She only wished she could tell him all she needed to.

Charlie cried out as Dean, finally moving from his frozen position, punched his brother in the face, and again, and again. That was, however, until Charlie built up the strength to push Dean away in the heat of the moment. Dean stumbled clumsily, leaving Sam dazed and bloody on the floor, before lifting her body and leaving the room. Sam didn't even look up.

She'd seen enough. Turning to her reaper, who'd been patiently waiting behind her all this time, she followed them through the door.

She went through all the good memories. The trips with her parents, the Tolkien marathons and conventions and cosplay. Meeting the Winchesters, their Game of Thrones marathon, the good times in Oz. Her greatest hits really were great, she just hoped there wasn't a montage of the negative times coming up.

"Lesty?"

She was home. And there they were. Smiling, tears in their eyes, just like her. Celeste instantly felt guilty, by keeping her mother alive, had she kept her from reuniting with her father in heaven for sixteen years? It didn't matter anymore. They were together, their little family, there and back again.

Thanks for reading! This was just a random idea that came into my head the other day. Sorry for the feels

Title comes from the final chapter title of The Hobbit

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