Stand in the Rain

Disclaimer: I do not own Charlie Bradbury, Supernatural, episode 21 Dark Dynasty, or Stand in the Rain by Superchick (the song that inspired the tone of this fic).

Summary: SPOILERS for Supernatural season 10 episode 21 "Dark Dynasty." Charlie at the end of the line.

Author's notes: I'm in strong denial. I really am. It might not look like it because I wrote this, but I really am in strong, strong denial. I don't care about the promo, they've got to bring her back. They just have to...

She made a huge mistake.

Rowena had been a huge incessant pest—so much that Charlie was totally justified in wanting space, because seriously how could anyone work with her brain as complete mush because she has listen to critiquing by someone who isn't getting any farther than she is, who keeps insisting she and Charlie are just alike—which Charlie still didn't see—and who keeps insulting her nerdity? (It's not a word, but she's going to pretend it is.) Space was most definitely needed. But she shouldn't have done it.

And poor Cas, whose hands were tied, who could only do so much to fix it and make it work for everyone. They all had the same goal. She knew she could play her part, if she could just get some peace and quiet…

So she'd left.

And it was the stupidest decision she'd ever made.

She thought nothing would beat the whole "getting scared at a sleepover and calling the parents, only for them to get killed by a drunk driver" decision in the "worst decisions" category, but this—this took the cake.

She knew—she knew—that they were after her. Ever since acquiring the Book of the Damned, she was at the top of the Styne family's Most Wanted, and she should have been more careful. Less naïve, less assuming that everything would be okay, she was just getting some peace and quiet, she'd crack this code and they'd save Dean and everything would be okay. Everything.

Except the world wasn't a perfect place, and Charlie'd known that. The world was unfair and there wasn't any magic to save the day. (Because usually, in her experience of reading the Winchesters' experiences in the Supernatural books, magic ended up ruining a lot more than it saved.) She just wanted to save Dean. He and Sam had saved her enough, and even though it was looking like a worse and worse idea the more Charlie got involved (especially when she had to put up with Rowena), she was going to do everything she could to save Dean. As she'd told Rowena, he and Sam were like her brothers, and she loved them. She was going to do everything in her power to help.

But she never should have left.

And of course the douchebag had the worst timing possible. She'd just cracked the code, and there he was, pounding at the door. It was then she realized the mistake she'd made. It was then too that she had realized there was no winning this battle, that she had only horrible choices in front of her and no way of winning. Not really.

On the one hand, she could surrender her notes and hopefully be on her way (though, logically, she doubted that he'd let her go that easily. Clearly he wanted the book, and he'd never believe that she didn't have it. Besides, the Stynes didn't seem like a very merciful family). On the other hand, she could get her notes to Sam, still save Dean, and fight like a Winchester when her attacker inevitably found her, and she would at least have the hopes of fighting her way out.

So she'd made another decision, the better one in her opinion out of the two choices, and she'd grabbed her Surface and locked herself in the bathroom. What she really wanted was to give up, to hide, to be as quiet as a mouse and hope that she was never found. Or maybe find a window to climb out of, to run as she's always ran from every problem that she's ever faced.

But she'd been running a long time. And it was time to stand her ground.

So Charlie dialed Sam's phone, partly in a desperate hope that maybe he can help her, but more so because if she wasn't able to fight her way out of this tonight, she had some things she needed to take care of. She needed to get the cracked code to Sam, and make sure that it wasn't all for nothing.

And of course there was Dean, ripping the phone from Sam and demanding that she give her attacker everything they wanted: her notes, the book, the code, everything. Sam had already implored her to do so, but Dean, he was being forceful about it, his strong "you understand?" that she knew meant he was as terrified as she was, and probably more so because he and Sam had a saving people complex and there was no way either of them could possibly save her from this situation. But she knew that it wasn't possible to just give whoever was at the door what they wanted. Already she was uploading the files into an email to send to the boys, making a failsafe if she didn't make it out of this. And in her heart, she knew fully well she wasn't going to make it out of this. She never should have left, but she had, and she had to live with the bad choice she'd made. She was standing her ground.

She told him as much, told him she couldn't just roll over belly-up and hope for the best, she said very quietly but clearly, "I can't do that, Dean." And she was damn lucky, so damned lucky that she had enough time to get the file uploaded and the email sent. And all she could do then was destroy the Surface, and finally stop her running. It was when he finally found her that she realized why she'd gotten so lucky; he was missing an entire limb. And while that should have probably been to her advantage, all she had was a knife on her, and she didn't know if it'd be nearly enough.

But she didn't care. Sam and Dean were on their way, she could hear it in the panic in both of their tones when she'd called (despite only briefly talking to Sam before Dean snatched away the phone), and it comforted her somewhat. There was still no way they'd reach her in time, there was absolutely no way they could help her, but they dropped everything the moment she called and ran to her, and that was all that mattered. She knew without a doubt they loved her as much as she loved them, and that made everything worth it. The last years where she'd gotten to know them, where she got to live out real adventure she'd only dreamed about, where she'd made herself a family—it was all good, dreamy even, and now, the time was up. Good things didn't last forever. But they loved her, she was their family as much as they were hers, and that was enough.

And that thought gave Charlie the reserve to face the one-armed man in front of her, the knife pointed directly at him, and a stoic look on her face. She was not going to go down without fighting. She was a Winchester, after all; an adopted one, but still a Winchester. The man in front of her grinned at her attempting to defend herself, and although Charlie was terrified, she wouldn't let his smug attitude psych her out completely. She was going to kick it in the ass as much as possible before it was all over. The Winchesters taught her that—that, and a whole lot more that she was going to take to her grave, but it was all worth it. No matter what, she'd never regret meeting Sam and Dean.

She just hoped they didn't end up regretting her meeting them when all of this was over.