Author's Note: I miss Charlie! I hope she comes back soon. Until then, I'll just content myself to fanfiction. This is set in season 8, post "LARP and the Real Girl" but before any of the Trials stuff started. Please enjoy!


"And sometimes thro' the mirror blue

The knights come riding two and two:

She hath no loyal knight and true,

The Lady of Shalott."

Alfred Tennyson, "The Lady of Shalott"


"I really didn't want them to call you." Charlie greeted sheepishly as the two Winchesters entered the tiny hospital room. The redhead was bruised and battered, but aside from a shallow cut on her head, she'd escaped without any serious injuries.

The phone call had come a little after 8pm. The two Winchesters had just finished up a simple salt and burn and were on their way back to the bunker when Dean's phone had rang. Checking the caller I.D., he mouthed "Charlie" to Sam and then answered with a grin on his face. The grin soon dissipated as the speaker—some girl Charlie did her role-playing with—explained that Charlie had been attacked, she was in the hospital and that this contact was listed as her in case of emergency.

Of course, they came.

Charlie was, after all, starting to become something of a little sister to them. She was a genius hacker with a wry sense of humor and endless pop culture references. Somehow, she'd wormed her way under their skin and now, she was part of their fractured, patched up family.

"You didn't want us to come?" Dean ventured, confused.

"No! No, of course not!" She interjected quickly. Running a hand through her hair, she sighed. "It's just . . . I know you guys are busy and—"

"Charlie." Sam smiled at her, placing a hand on her shoulder, offering her his strength. She wasn't used to this—to having people looking out for her—and Sam knew that only time would get her to adjust to the fact that she now had two brothers looking out for her. "How are you doing?"

"Fine." She replied quickly, but Dean's gaze narrowed and she quickly added, "Well, ghost attack aside, I'm fine. Mostly."

"Tell us what happened." Sam took a seat in one of the chairs by her bedside and Dean shut the door to her room. The last thing they needed was for a nurse to walk by, overhear some of their conversation and place a psych hold on the redhead as well.

"It all happened so fast." She muttered.

"Just tell us what you can remember." The eldest Winchester told her calmly.

"I was in my tent." She nodded to herself, as if confirming it once more. "And I heard this weird rustling noise so I turned around." She sucked a breath in, eyes widening somewhat. "There was this woman dressed in this medieval dress. For a second, I thought she was one of us, but her skin was so pale—too pale!"

Sam squeezed her shoulder, hoping to calm her, to assure her that she wasn't alone.

"And then?" Dean pressed.

"She just attacked me." Charlie shrugged. "One of my Ladies-in-Waiting walked in and—"

"She let you go because she got interrupted." Sam murmured, exchanging a glance with his brother. "Why would she do that though? She could've easily taken on your friend as well."

"I don't know." The redhead answered softly, face pensive. "I really don't know."

"We'll get to the bottom of this, Charlie." Dean promised, grinning at her.

"Yeah, it'll be fine." Sam added, hoping that she would believe them.

"I know." Charlie replied, beaming.

After all, if anyone could get to the bottom of this, Charlie reasoned, it was the Winchesters.


"I really don't think you should be doing this." Dean argued the next morning as Charlie adjusted her costume. "You were just released from the hospital last night—"

"You two both said that the ghost must have been targeting me." Charlie pointed out, spinning around to face the two of them. She smiled softly, seeing the two brothers in costume. "So, the only way to draw it out would be for me to come back and resume my job as Queen—"

"It's not safe though, Charlie." Sam protested, but the Queen of Moordoor just sighed.

"Guys, you both know this is the only way to do this without anyone else getting hurt." Her logic was sound and the two brothers knew that. Had this been any other case, she was sure they would've had no qualms about using her as bait. "Plus, you two both are going to stay by my side, so I've got nothing to worry about."

"My Lady?" A voice called from outside the tent. "An audience has been requested."

"I'll be right out!" She chirped. Then, facing the brothers, she added, "Relax, okay? Everything's going to be fine."

And then she left the tent.


The day passed by uneventfully.

Charlie negotiated a treaty with the Shadow Orcs, she oversaw battle practice and surveyed her kingdom, but aside from a small skirmish in the "forest", there was no sign of any ghost activity.

"I've not nothing on EMF." Sam remarked.

"Well, this ghost has to be somewhere." Dean muttered, frustration evident in his tone. "She couldn't have just disappeared."

"Anything?" Charlie asked, walking back into her tent.

"Nothing." The eldest Winchester replied, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Maybe she went away?" The redhead posed hopefully; the boys' gazes quickly darted to her. "Or not."

"She's here." Sam informed her. "The question is, where?"

"Well, the day's over." Charlie told them. "It's time to head home, but we can come back early tomorrow before everyone else if you guys—" Her voice cut out abruptly. "My mirror."

A rustling sound echoed in the tent.

"What about your—?" Sam questioned, before laying eyes on it.

"Shit." Dean cursed.

The mirror that used to rest against the small dresser that Charlie had in the tent was shattered, black ectoplasm dripping from the broken pieces and onto the carpet.

"Did that just happen—?"

The EMF wailing cut off Sam's voice and immediately the temperature in the room dropped.

"Charlie, get behind us!" Dean barked, pulling out his pistol and Sam reached for the shotgun filled with rock salt that they'd placed in the tent earlier in the day. The redhead did as she was told and not a moment too soon for the woman soon became visible.

"That's her." Charlie confirmed, voice quavering.

The ghost turned her head, blonde hair swishing as her gown rustled. Her eyes, an icy blue, locked onto Charlie's form. Her dress, a blood red, seemed to highlight how pale her complexion was.

"Queen." She hissed.

Dean didn't give her another chance to say anything and fired off a shot. The ghost dissipated, but then quickly reformed.

"Give me the Queen." The ghost demanded.

"Not going to happen." Sam growled and the ghost frowned.

"You have knights, it seems." The ghost commented. A bittersweet smile alit on her lips. "I won't be left behind again though."

They fired another round of shots, but the ghost deflected them. Then, with another flick of her wrist, she sent the guns flying. Raising a hand, she pulled Dean towards her.

"I will have knights as well."

She snapped her fingers and the eldest Winchester's eyes flashed a bright red. The fight drained out of him and instantly, Sam knew what had occurred.

"Charlie." He glanced behind him, just to confirm that she was still there. "We're going to run in a second."

"Run?" Charlie echoed, scared. "Why would we—?"

"Kill the Queen, my knight!" The ghost commanded and Dean charged.

"Now!" Sam gripped Charlie's hand, pulling her behind him as they raced out of the tent. He wasn't sure where to go or what to do, but they needed to find a safe place to regroup.

"There!" The redhead called. "The gaming guild!"

Sam nodded and they darted in there. The computer screens lit the tent with their blue hue and the youngest Winchester quickly dug out a few packet of salt. It wouldn't keep the ghost out if she was that determined, but it would buy them some time.

"What now?" Charlie asked. "Dean's under her control, we don't have the salt or guns and she wants me dead—"

"We figure out who she is and we stop her." Sam told her, turning on one of the computers.

"Yeah, right." The hacker muttered, turning on another as well. "I'll research this area and see if there's anything out of the ordinary."

"Good."

Mission set, they began to research.


"The Lady of Shallot?" Charlie echoed.

"The Lady of Shallot." Sam confirmed. "Or someone who believes she is the Lady of Shallot."

"That's the woman who had a curse on her, right? She had to weave forever and the day she turned from her weaving to see Lancelot riding by, she died, right?"

Sam nodded his head.

"I think whoever this is, she was angered by seeing what was going on. It does look kind of—"

"Like Camelot." Charlie completed. Nervously tugging on a strand of her hair, she met Sam's gaze. "So, how do we get rid of her?"

"If she thinks she's the Lady of Shallot, we'll need to find her loom." Sam informed her. "That would be my guess as to what's holding her here."

"So, we just need to find—"

The salt lines blew over and Sam tensed.

"So, this is where you've been, my Queen." A bitter voice resounded.

In the tent stood the Lady of Shallot, with Dean by her side.

"Let Dean go!" Charlie shouted and the Lady of Shallot smirked.

"Come now, you expect me to give up my knight, loyal and true?" She stepped further into the tent and Sam and Charlie quickly took a step back. "Guinevere, I will not allow you to take this chance from me."

"Dean, please!" Charlie called.

"Kill her, my knight." The Lady of Shallot ordered.

Dean's gun had been replaced with a sword now, long and sharp. He held it with the ease of someone that grew up wielding one all his life.

"Wait!" Sam interjected. "You would break the code of honor for duels?"

The Lady of Shallot hesitated.

"Right!" The redhead added. "Your knight wouldn't be a true knight unless he followed the code of honor."

"Fine." A sword materialized in Sam's hand.

"Charlie." Sam lowered his voice. "Find her loom. Salt and burn it, okay? I'll hold Dean off."

"But Sam—"

"Now, Charlie." He said a little more sharply and she scurried off.

"Guinevere has abandoned you, Lancelot." The ghost informed Sam with an almost over the top sadness in her eyes. "Come and be with me." She extended a hand. "We can be together and rebuild a kingdom—"

"If I win this duel," Sam began. "You release him."

The ghost nodded her head.

"Fight."

That's when Dean charged.


Sam never thought he'd ever be thanking his father for sword training before, but as he deflected his brother's blows and countered with his own, he knew he owed his survival right now to his father's paranoia.

"C'mon, Charlie." He mumbled, blocking another blow. "Dean, man, you've gotta fight this."

His brother's eyes remained blank, unfeeling to his pleas.

"It's not too late, Lancelot." The Lady of Shallot called. "We can still be together."

Sam's response was to parry and get behind his brother. Rushing to the ghost, he raised his sword, prepared to plunge it into her.

Pain rushed through him.

"Dean." Sam breathed. Glancing down, he saw the sword buried in his gut, blood dripping down. His brother removed the blade and Sam gasped, knees buckling.

"It would seem that I have won the duel." The Lady of Shallot smirked. "Goodbye, Lancelot."

Sam shook his head in disbelief.

He wasn't going to lie down and die here. He couldn't just give up and quit, not with his brother still possessed. Using his sword as his grip, he pushed himself up and faced the ghost.

"Lancelot." She placed a freezing hand on Sam's cheek. "We could've been—"

Then, she was gone in a puff of smoke.

"Charlie." Sam breathed, relief rushing through him.

"Sam?" He turned around to meet his brother's confused gaze. "What—?"

"You're back." Sam mumbled, smiling.

"Jesus, Sam, you're bleeding!" Dean shouted, gripping his brother now. "Who did this?" Then, before the youngest Winchester could interject, the eldest Winchester's gaze spied the bloodied sword by his side. "Wait, did I—?"

"No." The youngest Winchester whispered, not wanting his brother to be consumed by guilt. It hadn't been his fault and he had to know that.

"Sammy, stay with me!"

Sam wished he could've stayed and explained what was going on, but his vision wavered before him and before he knew it, the darkness consumed him.


The lights burned his eyes.

"Sammy?"

Instantly, the room dimmed and Sam blinked a few times, trying to clear the fog from his mind. A monitor beeped and he felt the cold flow of oxygen under his nose.

"Sam, you with me?"

The youngest Winchester turned his head, meeting his big brother's concerned gaze.

"D'n?" Sam mumbled.

"I'm here." His brother assured him. "You remember what happened?"

Dim images of his brother wielding a sword and a ghostly apparition of a lady filled his mind. He nodded slowly, the movement making him slightly dizzy.

"Charlie?" He managed to inquire and Dean pointed to a chair next to him where the redhead was asleep, blanket tucked into the edges of the seat. "She got the ghost?"

"Yeah. She did fine." Dean placed his hand on top of his brothers, fingers instinctively feeling his pulse.

"S'not your fault." The youngest Winchester felt compelled today, as he could see the wheels turning in his brother's head, putting the pieces together into one solution that would cause himself to feel nothing but guilty for days.

"I stabbed you, Sam."

"You weren't yourself."

"I could've killed you—"

"But you didn't." Exhaustion slurred his voice, but he forced himself to stay awake until he was sure his brother was okay. "I'm okay."

"But Sam—"

"I'm okay." He repeated, letting it sink in. "You know that, right?"

A pause.

"Yeah, I know."

Sam smiled and he could see the tension leave his brother's frame.

It would take a few days to convince his brother fully that he hadn't been responsible for his actions, but right now, things were okay. The ghost was gone and they were all safe. When he awoke later, they'd leave the hospital and return back to the bunker, back to real life and hunts and crazy demons, but for right now, he could take solace that they were together and alive.

And right now, Sam counted that as a win.


Author's Note: "The Lady of Shallot" is one of my favorite poems and it was so much to add her into this story. I hope you enjoyed. Please review if you have a moment. Thanks!