1990 - August

Minnesota, Fairmont

At the tender age of 8 Charlotte knew the routine better then she knew her 8 times tables. If her Dad hadn't returned after three days she was to phone Bobby. Of course she knew his number off by heart. It was the one thing her Dad made sure she knew.

So she stood in the phone booth at some back water motel, reaching on tiptoes for the buttons. When Bobby asked who it was she simply said, "Dad's not back Uncle Bobby."

There was a sigh on the other end of the line that she guessed was from how late it was. She didn't want to ring the man first thing in case her Dad would be back. Or in case he came back to find her on the phone in the afternoon. Even then he had come back in the last hours of the night before. But half eleven was still a time to begin to worry. "Where are you kiddo?"

Her eyes peered at the name on the phone booth, mind working to spell it out. "Mine- ne- so- tar?"

"Minnesota." She could hear the man moving on the other end of the line. "What motel and room number?"

The neon lighting was easier to decipher, "Sun rise and five."

There was another sigh. "Pack your bag kiddo. I'm on my way."

"Bye Uncle Bobby!" She skipped back to her room and did as she was told. She packed her single bag. The first ten minutes were spent trawling the room for her clothes to throw them into her small luggage bag. The next ten minutes were spent finding everything else she owned and putting them into the case. A yawn escaped her and she shook it loose. She needed to pack and wait for Bobby. Ten minutes later and she was zipping her bag up, still trying to lose the yawns that were following her.

There was a chair by the window and she put herself in that, the lights off (as instructed by her Dad) and the curtains slightly open. She perched on her knees with her back straight and her arms over the back of the chair. Watching. Waiting.

Bobby was taking forever.

She yawned, felt her knees become sore and decided to lie on her bed and wait. Blue eyes fixed themselves on the ceiling, trying to make patterns out of the marks on it. That could be a dog, that a strawberry. Before she could stop it darkness closed in and she fell into a slumber.

The next time she awoke it was to Bobby pulling up outside of his own house. It was light out now and the man had just turned the engine off. He looked down at her curled on the chair and she swore she could see the old man smile. "Morning sleeping beauty."

A yawn. "What time is it?"

"Just after twelve. Come on." He jumped out and grabbed her bag from the back of the truck. She jumped out, rubbing her eyes, and followed him into the house. The TV was already on and she could hear voices. Two boyish voices. Now she was waking up. "I hope you boys have had breakfast."

"Yes Sir," a voice replied, footsteps following the noise into the kitchen.

Charlotte eyed the boy and swore he looked familiar. The boy was looking at her in the same way. It was the eyes that she remembered. Those sharp green ones that she hated when she first saw them. "Dean?"

He was taller. But so was she. Not as tall but still, she was taller. "Charlotte?"

"Who wants dinner?" Bobby asked, Charlotte's bag already placed underneath the kitchen desk.

Sam entered then and smiled up at Bobby, "Yes Uncles Bobby!" Then his brown eyes found Charlotte's. He didn't forget her, or seemed to see the resemblance, or heard Dean. Either way, she smiled when he said her name, "Charlotte? You're back."

"So are you."

"Our Dad's busy being a superhero! Isn't he Dean?"

Dean looked to Sam with a tight smile and Charlotte could sense something in the air. "He sure is Sammy. Come on, let's go watch another film."

"Oh," she followed in their footsteps back to the living room. "What are you watching?"

"Terminator," Dean said. Nothing more, just followed Sam to the only couch in the room and sat on the other end.

Charlotte stood in the doorway, eyes looking to the couch, the TV and back to the two boys. Sam had his eyes fixed on her whilst Deans were fixed on the TV. "Can I watch?"

Sam nodded eagerly and scooted closer to the arm, "You can come sit next to me."

She jumped up and scooted herself between the two boys. Dean's words made her glare at him, "This might be too scary for little girls."

"I'm not a little girl."

"Are too."

"Uh uh."

"Uh huh."

"You're just being mean cause I'm a girl."

"Yeah Dean," Sam added, leaning forward so that he could look at his brother. "Stop being mean."

Charlotte stuck her tongue out to Dean in triumph and settled herself back into the couch. Dean looked a little miffed but she didn't care. She won this time. About twenty minutes later Bobby brought in two plates of sliced pizza and placed them on the boy's laps. "Share it out, now" his eyes turned to the TV. "Once this is over we're gonna enjoy the weather and go to the park. Alright?"

Both her and Sam cheered whilst Dean nodded and took a slice of pepperoni pizza. Sam had cheese and Charlotte took one from each, slapped them together like a sandwich and took a bite. Both turned to look at her and she shrugged her shoulders around a mouthful. "What?"

"You're weird," Dean said.

She glared at him again and took another bite with force. "So." She swallowed and kept her glare on him. "You're weird too."

"Not as weird as you." His smirk as he took a bite made her glare more but she slumped in her seat and just carried on eating. The plates were emptied and cleaned and Bobby was rounding them up, getting shoes on and laces tied up. Seconds later they were squished into his truck. Minutes later they were on the park. Her and Sam had ran straight for the climbing frame whilst Dean walked over to the swing set, eyes watching the pair.

Bobby sat himself on a bench, his eyes loitering over everybody in the park for a few seconds before he forced the paranoia away.

After several minutes of watching the older boy gently swing back and forth Bobby moved to his truck and pulled out the gloves and baseball he kept in there. He tossed one glove to the older boy and nodded his head to a clearing. At Dean's wide eyes glance towards Sammy he waved him off, "Sam'll be fine kiddo. And he's not alone. Come on."

Charlotte reached the top of the frame after Sam and pouted. She didn't like losing. But he was taller and had an advantage. She hated being small. "Why are you guys with Bobby?"

"What?" She repeated her question and watched as the boy ticked it over in his mind. He shrugged and ducked his gaze, "Dad's busy saving people. He said it's safer for us to be here."

Charlotte nodded and worked her way across the top of the frame to sit next to him. "My Dad's saving people too."

"Do you think they know each other?"

She shrugged. "Maybe. But my Dad says there's a lot of people out there who save other people."

"Our Dad says we can't trust everybody. But we can trust Bobby."

She nodded in agreement. "Bobby's cool."

"He is."

There was silence for a few seconds before Sam turned to her with a grin, "Race you to the monkey bars."

"You're on," she said, already working her way back down the frame.