2008 – September
Part 2
Charlotte stuffed her hands into her jacket pockets as they pulled up outside of Pamela's house. She couldn't stop glancing at Dean. He was alive and she should've been ecstatic and over the moon. Should've been. Instead she found herself wishing he'd taken his damn necklace back. She wished that she'd known he was coming back then maybe those past five months could've been different, then she'd be happier.
He glanced at her and she couldn't muster much more than a half assed smile. She chalked it down to disbelief that he was alive and in one piece. When he'd kissed her back at the motel room she'd wanted to push him onto the bed and have her way with him, remember the line of his muscles and the shape of his body. But she just couldn't. As he looked away from her she felt herself relaxing knowing that he wasn't trying to figure her out, that he wasn't trying to work out what had happened to her or analyse every inch of her body.
She turned her own attention back to the door to see Pamela Barnes hug Bobby tightly. Pamela released Bobby and Charlotte offered the woman a tight smile as Pamela said, "So, these the kids?"
Charlotte's smile widened a touch at that and she dug her hands a little harder into her pockets. Her bloodied knuckles protested and she eased her grip up just enough. "Sam, Dean, Charlotte," Bobby started and gestured a hand to Pamela, "Pamela Barnes, best damn psychic in the state."
"Hey," the three of them responded with a mixture of awkward, kind and flirtatious. Charlotte arched a brow, the corner of her mouth catching itself in the start of a smirk knowing exactly who had tried for flirty.
"Mmm-mmm-mmm," Pamela started. "Dean Winchester. Out of the fire and back in the frying pan, huh? Makes you a rare individual.
Charlotte flicked her eyes from Pamela to Dean and back, a sudden pit of discomfort growing in her stomach. She gave a small shake of her head as Dean said, "If you say so," and told herself to think nothing of it.
"Come on in."
Charlotte followed Sam inside as Pamela and Bobby started talking. She dared a glance at Dean, down his entire body and back up, reminding herself that he was alive and well. God how much she wanted to reach out and just-
"A séance, I think." She turned her back to Pamela with a frown. "See if we can see who did the deed."
Bobby spoke her worried thoughts for her, "You're not gonna summon the damn thing here are you?"
"No. I just want to get a sneak peek at it. Like a crystal ball without the crystal."
"I'm game," Dean said and Charlotte found herself frowning. Something powerful had pulled Dean from hell and Pamela wanted to look at it? She didn't like the idea of that but kept her mouth shut. They needed answers and this was better than the alternative of doing nothing.
As Bobby and Pamela went about setting the room up for the séance Charlotte stood next to Sam, her stomach twisting in knots. Something was nagging at her, as though she should know something, and it didn't sit right in her stomach. It was like a bad itch that she couldn't reach and she couldn't help but to tune out everything around her. She stared at the opposite wall, trying to pull on something that seemed stuck in her mind, but she had no idea what she was supposed to be pulling at.
"… if Charlotte hadn't already claimed you."
She tuned back in then, snapping her round to see Pamela, Sam and Dean staring at her. "What?"
Pamela walked towards the table in front of them, setting the candles in her hands down. "Oh trust me honey," Pamela started, "I know a claimed ass when I see one and Dean has your name written all over it."
Charlotte glanced at Dean with an awkward smile before she shrugged a shoulder, "Some days I wonder why I bothered."
Pamela laughed and walked past them, slapping Sam's ass on the way. "But you, I can have all to myself."
Dean chuckled and Charlotte heard him whisper to Sam, "She's gonna eat you alive."
Charlotte rolled her eyes and it wasn't long before they were being invited to sit around the table that had been set up for their séance. She sat herself down between Pamela and Bobby and felt that same itch scratch at her mind. She was missing something, something important.
"Right," Pamela said, drawing Charlotte's attention to the psychic, "take each other's hands." Pamela's hand was wrapped around hers before she could help it and Charlotte gave Bobby a look before she grabbed his hand on top of the table. Pamela's other hand disappeared underneath the table and the frown that appeared on Charlotte' face was instantaneous. "And I need to touch something our mystery monster touched."
Something hit the table and Dean gave a small yelp. "Whoa. Well, he didn't touch me there."
Pamela turned a cheeky smile in Charlotte's direction and said, "A woman can't help herself."
Charlotte felt Dean give her a look and she shrugged her shoulder back at him. He sighed and started to take one half of his plaid shirt off. She watched him carefully before she saw what he was getting to: a burned hand print on his shoulder. "What the hell?" she muttered. She felt Sam give Bobby a look and she turned to look at the older man as well who just shrugged his shoulder.
"Okay." Charlotte did her best to settle back into her seat as Pamela encouraged Dean's free hand onto theirs and she closed her eyes once Pamela started chanting, "I invoke, conjure, and command you, appear unto me before this circle." She blinked her eyes open on the second repeat of the line and stared at the woman unsure. Dean frowned up at her and she shared a look with him. Then his eyes were fixed on something over her shoulder and she turned her head with a frown. A TV screen was filled with static and she stared at that for several moments before she turned her frown back to Dean. She glanced at everybody else and found that they had their eyes closed.
The table started to shake and Charlotte stared at it. That gut twisting discomfort was back and she could hear something in the back of her mind that sounded like whispering.
"Castiel?" Pamela spoke. "No. Sorry Castiel I don't scare easy."
"Castiel?" Dean repeated and Charlotte whispered the name to herself with a frown.
Close your eyes.
She snapped her head up to look at Bobby then Sam then Dean. The voice didn't belong to them and she felt panic start to rise in her chest. The table started to shake more violently as Pamela continued to try to talk to the thing, this time saying, "I conjure and command you, show me your face."
The white noise from the television started to rise and Charlotte watched as Sam and Bobby finally opened their eyes. It was the older man who said, "Maybe we should stop."
Charlotte, close your eyes and open your mind. For Pamela's sake.
Charlotte felt her heart race and she stared at Pamela as the woman pushed forward, demanding whatever it was to show its face.
Now.
She pinched her eyes shut, felt the table shake violently, heard the white noise drone louder and felt a sudden burst of warmth in front of her. She gasped and the muscles in her body tensed as she saw in her mind a bright light. She felt her mouth slip open as her eyes adjusted to the light and she gaped at the thing in front of her. She'd never seen such a thing like it before. It was beautiful, scary, magnificent and terrifying all at the same time. "Whoa," she whispered.
"Charlotte?" Pamela said and she could feel the woman shake her hand.
"Yeah?"
"Can you see it?" Sam asked.
She nodded and she searched the thing for a face. It was tall, really tall and it careened over her. As she craned her neck to look up she felt something click in her head. It was like something tapped against her skull, but she couldn't look away.
Charlotte Dixon.
"Castiel," she said.
You are a strange creature indeed.
"Thanks," she muttered and she frowned. The tapping in her head was beginning to hurt and she screwed her face up as the pain spread across her entire head.
Only certain people can view this visage of me without burning their eyes. The true me.
"Good to know." A slight groan escaped her lips and she gritted her teeth. The tapping was now just a single long whine of pain that flared hot inside her head.
"Charlotte," Bobby said, "you okay?"
She winced and screwed her eyes up. Her head hurt, it pounded, ached, throbbed and burnt and she could feel her knees growing weak from the mental strain. Her hands tightened their holds on Bobby and Pamela and she ground out a, "I'm fine. What are you?"
You know what I am.
Charlotte groaned, her entire body protesting whatever was going on inside of her mind and she could feel warmth begin to spread underneath her nose and over her lips. "I'm getting really tired of that answer," she muttered.
"Charlotte," Pamela said, "let go honey. Come back to us."
With her eyes still screwed shut she said, "What's going on?"
Your mind is straining to comprehend what is going on.
"What the hell does that mean?" She groaned, her body tensing with a whimper from her mouth. Her head burnt with pain and everybody's voices were being drowned out by the white noise in her head. Her hands were hurting from the grip she was putting onto other people's hands and she felt the pain in her head reach a crescendo.
She never got a chance to hear Castiel's response as she gasped and her head fell forward to land on the table.
Dean and Sam were on their feet in an instant whilst Bobby and Pamela were pulling Charlotte's body back. There were thick lines of blood running from her nose and ears. "Grab a towel and a bowl of cold water," Pamela ordered and Bobby was the one to follow her orders. Dean and Sam worked on moving Charlotte's body to a couch and Pamela settled a hand against Charlotte's head. "She's burning up," she said with a frown.
"What happened?" Sam asked.
Pamela shook her head and looked up at the two Winchesters. "She saw it, whatever it is she saw it."
Dean turned his eyes down to Charlotte's unconscious body, "And this? Is this normal?"
Pamela shrugged her shoulders, "Some people's minds can't handle what they see."
"But why did she see it?" Sam asked.
Again Pamela shrugged and Bobby entered then with a couple of towels and a bowl of cool water. "Maybe I accidentally channelled it through her. Thanks Bobby." She dipped one of the towels into the water and wrung it out before she pressed it lightly to Charlotte's head. "My other theory is that there's some sort of connection between her and this thing. Here," she held out a slightly damp towel to Dean, "make yourself useful and start cleaning."
Dean started to wipe at the blood, panic rising in his chest. Whatever this thing was it wasn't good news and he was carful with Charlotte's head as he cleaned the blood away. He'd just wiped a load of drying blood from her mouth when she started to move. "Hey," he whispered down at her as Pamela dabbed a damp towel to her head. She blinked her eyes up at him and he smiled. "Morning Princess," he said.
She groaned and brought a hand up to her face, "Don't call me Princess."
"How are you feeling honey?" Pamela asked.
Charlotte flicked her eyes back open and winced, "Get me a drink and I'll be fine." She started to push Dean and Pamela away but they just waved her arms away and helped her to sit up. "I'm good," she ground out with a wince, "I'm fine, just," she sighed and leaned back against the couch.
"What happened?" Sam asked.
She shrugged her shoulders, her eyes still closed and shook her head carefully, "I don't know. Tell you this though I've never seen anything like it before."
"So we're back at square one?" Bobby asked.
Dean shook his head, looking up at the older man as he continued to wipe at a stain on Charlotte's neck, "We've got a name, Castiel." She batted a hand at his and grabbed the towel from his hand to wipe at her own neck, her eyes still closed.
"Charlotte," Sam started and Dean watched her blink her eyes warily open up at him, "what did it look like?"
She shrugged her shoulders again, a frown creasing her brows. "I don't know just," she shrugged again, "just big."
She closed her eyes with a wince and Dean watched that wince turn into thought. "What is it?" he asked.
Charlotte looked up at him and he watched the conflict in her eyes before she dropped her gaze, "It said I knew what it was."
"So you have seen it before?" Sam said.
"I'd remember seeing that Sammy, trust me."
Another wince had her pinching her eyes shut and it was then that Pamela came to her rescue and told the others to let her rest. Dean stayed by her side on the couch as the others stepped away to talk things over. He turned to look at her and noted the concern in her face. He reached a hand out and grabbed her knee with a gentle squeeze. She looked over at him, her face tired, and he smiled and said, "You okay?"
She just stared at him for a moment, the muscles in her jaw working before she closed her eyes and sighed. She dropped the towel into her lap and slowly lifted her gaze back to him. "No," she whispered, "I'm not."
He frowned at her and shuffled closer, his hand still on her knee. "What happened? I thought Pamela was supposed to be the psychic one here."
Charlotte just shrugged her shoulders, "I don't know." She glanced at the group of three before she looked back at Dean. Her shoulder rose and fell for several seconds before she said, "It spoke to me, told me to close my eyes or Pamela would be blind." Dean recoiled slightly at that and turned to look over at the psychic in question. When he looked back at Charlotte the look of panic that covered her face had him worried.
"What's going on with you?" he whispered, pulling his hand back into his own lap.
She blinked at him and so many emotions flashed across her face before she whispered, "I wish I knew.
It wasn't long before Pamela was moving back over to them. "Right," she started, "you boys get out of here." She turned her attention to Charlotte and smiled softly down at her, "I'm gonna take care of this one."
"I'm fine," she tried and she started to get up. Her knees still weren't quite working and her head began to spin as soon as she was up. "Or not," she whispered, falling back into the couch with a sigh and her eyes closed.
Pamela turned to look at Dean and said, "She'll be fine. I'll look after her."
"Listen," Bobby said, "thanks Pamela, for everything."
Dean turned his attention to Charlotte and tried a reassuring smile. "We'll figure this out."
She nodded her head with a tight lipped smile, "Yeah. Just don't do anything stupid." He smiled and squeezed her knee again before he got up and left with the other two men. Charlotte slouched in Pamela's couch, a hand to her head. It pounded away painfully and she swore it felt as though somebody had broken something inside of her mind.
"Alright Charlotte," Pamela started and she took Dean's previous seat next to her, "let's see what's really going on shall we?"
The woman picked up Charlotte's hand and she just arched one brow at her. "What are you doing?"
Pamela smiled with a small chuckle, "Trying to help you figure out what's going on inside of your own mind sweetie. Now relax, you don't have to do anything." Charlotte sighed and just settled back into her seat. Carefully she studied Pamela's face, watching it as she frowned, her eyes slowly opening. "What do you feel guilty about Charlotte?"
Charlotte stared at the psychic and sat up a little straighter. "What?"
Pamela looked at her sadly and said, "Whatever you've done it's eating you up. Not to mention that there's something else," Pamela frowned and Charlotte felt her heart race once more, "something hidden." Pamela snapped her hand back and looked down at Charlotte's hand still outstretched in front of her. "Well you are something different."
Charlotte stared at Pamela and pulled her hand back. Slowly she pushed herself to her feet and steadied her hands on the couch arm. "No kidding," she muttered and she stumbled to the table she'd been sat at almost an hour ago.
"You already knew."
Charlotte scoffed and shook her head. "Yeah, for a while now."
"Okay, I'll bite, what are you?"
She gritted her teeth and clutched her hands tightly to one of her chairs. The pain in her head had started to ease up but it still hurt like hell. "Nephilim."
"Nephilim? I've never heard-"
"Nobody has, not until now because there's just one because my Dad-" she bit down on her tongue and on the anger that had started to rise. She closed her eyes and forced deep breaths down her throat. "I'm sorry," she muttered. "God I'm a mess," she whispered to herself.
Pamela chuckled and Charlotte almost snapped her head in her direction before she remembered the banging in her head. "Honey, nobody needs a psychic to know that. You wanna talk about it."
Charlotte scrubbed a hand over her face and felt her shoulders relax, "Not really. Not yet at least."
"Stubborn too." Pamela gave a short laugh before Charlotte felt her hand on her shoulder, "I'll get you that drink shall I?"
Charlotte smiled, "Thanks."
"Just take a seat."
Charlotte nodded and pulled out the chair in front of her. Sat down the pain started to recede and she rubbed at her temples. You know what I am. She sighed, trying to figure out what the voice had meant. "What?" she whispered to herself. "What are you? Why would I know?" She closed her eyes and started thinking about what else it had said: Strange creature. Mind struggling to comprehend. Only certain people can see the true me. She blinked her eyes open with a frown. "What are you?"
Pamela came back in then, a bottle of beer in her hands and Charlotte took the offered drink. "So what's going on inside your mind?"
Charlotte took a soothing sip of cool beer before she shrugged her shoulders, "Just trying to make sense of it all."
"And?"
Charlotte stared at Pamela, her own mind still working. She could see the thing but Pamela couldn't. Pamela was a psychic and she was a Nephilim. Half angel, half human. The thing was powerful and had a true form, a bright true form… bright. She'd seen one bright thing before and it was connected to the angel part of her. She frowned and took another sip of beer. But that part was supposed to be locked away…unless? Her mouth slipped open and she stared off into space. The angel part of her mind had been locked away and the thing had said that only certain people could see their true form. Pamela was a damned good psychic and yet, it had chosen her.
"Holy crap," she muttered to herself.
"Charlotte?"
Charlotte looked back at Pamela and took another sip of beer. "I gotta go."
She made a start to stand and she felt the room begin to spin. She gritted her teeth and grabbed the edge of the table. "Easy now," Pamela said, "you're still a little weak in the knees."
Charlotte shook her head and forced herself to stand up straight. She flicked her eyes open and took several deep breaths. The room started to spin less and she slowly nodded to herself. She turned back to Pamela and said, "I've gotta find them."
"So call them and rest."
Charlotte dropped a hand to her pocket with her phone when she realised that she hadn't even given anybody her new number. She sighed and mentally kicked herself before she looked back at Pamela. "I don't have their numbers." She searched through her other pockets and found her car keys. "You got a map?"
Forty minutes later and she was shakily making her way towards her car. Her head still hurt but if she knew Dean he would want to summon the damn thing. She'd used a map to find the closest place that was sheltered and away from the general population, somewhere out of the way and perfect for summoning something unknown to them.
It was dark out and her head was feeling a little better, but she knew it was only a matter of time before she wouldn't arrive in time to warn them. She'd pulled up to the road the warehouse was on and pulled her car to a quick stop. She considered going to the trunk of her car before she hesitated and stopped. With a sigh she grabbed her gun from the glove compartment and pushed it into the waistband of her jeans. It wouldn't do much good but she felt better just for having it.
She pulled open one of the doors and just stared at the artwork inside. Her eyes fell along the walls and floor in amazement. "Whoa," she whispered.
"I thought you were supposed to be resting," Bobby said.
Charlotte stepped into the warehouse then, closing the door behind her. Her eyes were still taking in the various images surrounding them as she walked towards the table set up in the middle of the room. "Did you summon it already?"
Dean and Bobby shared a look with one another and she didn't ask about Sam. "How'd you know we'd summon it?" Dean asked.
"I know you," she snapped back and she had to grit her teeth. Her head was still sensitive but at least she could walk and talk. "Did you summon-" The metal roof started to rattle and Charlotte pulled her gun out on instinct. "I'll take that as a yes," she whispered, moving to join the other two hunters.
Dean turned his head towards her, "What are you doing here?"
She stared at him and opened her mouth to answer when the lights started to explode, sparks flying everywhere. She flinched, putting an arm over her head to shield her eyes. By her sides Bobby and Dean tried to hunch themselves over and she eyed the door. It started to open and as the doors fully opened a guy in a trench coat started to walk forward. His eyes moved across the walls and she found herself frozen to the spot, staring at him.
Dean and Bobby started firing at him but she let her arm slowly drop back to her side. She could see the looks the other two hunters were giving her, but she shoved them aside. If her assumptions were true then she was pissed and she wanted somebody's head.
As the guy continued to walk towards them, unaffected by the gunshot wounds in his chest, she felt a familiar pounding start in her head. She blinked her eyes and around this guy she could see light appearing, bright light. Charlotte had to blink her eyes a couple more times but it was there and it was surrounding him. Her mouth slipped open in surprise and she felt Dean and Bobby back up as he continued to walk forward. She furrowed her brows and refused to move, her gun by her side and her eyes fixed on his.
He just stared at her and finally came to a stop in front of her. "You," she whispered.
"Charlotte," he said back, his voice low and gravelly.
The glow was still there and it was pissing her off. This entire thing was pissing her off and the cap she'd tried to put on her anger blew. He was an angel. An angel had raised Dean's ass from hell after another angel had killed her for trying to prevent that. She grabbed the front of his coat and shoved him to the nearest wall. She slammed him against it and pressed the muzzle of her gun against his chest. "Where's Zach?" she ground out in a low whisper, every drop of anger slipping into those two words.
But he wasn't fazed by her. He didn't even flinch as he kept his blue eyes fixed on her. He let the corners of his mouth twitch into a smile as he leaned his head forward and whispered unbelievably quiet, "Let go of me and I won't tell Dean about the Colt in the trunk of your car."