A/N: I know people don't like when authors ask for reviews, but I would really like to know what you think of the story so far.


Chapter 2: Ghosts of our failures

"So... you were saved by an... angel" spoke my uncle, his eyebrows raised to the top of his forehead.

"I was not." Snapped Dean.

"Yes, yes you were." I answered, rather annoyed by his behaviour.

"Oh, yes, you sniffing him out is proof enough" he drawled, sarcasm lacing his words.

I glared at him and opened my mouth to retort but was cut off by Sam.
"Well, then tell us what else it could be." He spoke, trying to make his hot headed brother see reason. Talk about mission impossible.

"Look, all I know is I was not groped by an angel." Snapped Dean, making me snort with laughter.

"Do you have something to say wonder nose?" snapped Dean and I narrowed my eyes at him.

"Get over yourself hot shot. I hardly believe that Castiel is some underpaid waitress, seeing as only such people could fall for your manly..." I said and gave him a smirking once over "charm." I finished and noticed that he started to turn red at my words.

"Well, still better than no one wanting to grope me, but you'd know all about that situation wouldn't you?" he snapped.

"Aw is the big boy insulted?" I hissed, walking around him, "that the best you can do hot shot?"

"You little" started he and turned towards me but was interrupted by my uncle clearing his throat.

"Charlie, Dean, behave." He spoke and Sam chortled with laughter, earning himself glares from the both of us.

"Okay, look Dean" started he, turning serious and wisely choosing to keep his mouth shut on the subject of our mutual dislike towards each other. "Why do you think Castiel would lie to you about this?"

"Maybe he's some kind of a demon." He spoke and let out another unlady like snort. "Demons lie." He said and turned to me, just to glare, receiving a rather rude gesture on my part in return.

"A demon who is immune to salt rounds and devil's traps... and Ruby's knife? Besides, Charlotte was with you, she could have sensed him out. Dean, Lilith's scared of that thing!" tried Sam.

"Don't you think that if angels were real, that some hunter somewhere would have seen one... at some point... ever?" demanded Dean. "And Charlotte seems rather partial on this matter doesn't she? She defended him from the beginning. Care to share something with the class Charlie?" spoke he, turning to me.

I scowled, and crossed my arms over my chest, my eyes set on the wall.

"Well, kiddo, he has a point. " started my uncle. "You have been rather adamant on this entire thing this whole time. Do you know something we don't?"

I clenched my teeth, battling with myself and then hissed out.

"I don't know anything. I just feel that I... can trust Castiel. I can't explain it." I said, biting on my lip.

"So we're supposed to just trust her feeling?" demanded Dean.

"I trust Charlie" spoke my uncle. "She doesn't know." His tone had a distinct layer of finality and I felt relief, knowing that my only living relative still trusted me.

"Well, Dean, she kind of has a point," started Sam, and when he received a glare from his brother he raised his hands , palms facing forward in a sign of surrender. "What I meant to say, you kind of are the first hunter to see one. Just now."

"I'm trying to come up with a theory here, okay? Work with me." He spoke, somewhat calmer.

"Dean," spoke Sam with a sigh" we have a theory."

"Yeah one with a little less fairy dust on it please." Answered Dean.

"And how is a demon more plausible than an anger for saving your soul? Talk about fairy dust." I answered, walking off to a window.

"Okay look" spoke Sam, once again cutting Dean off from making what was sure to be a rather rude comment. "I'm not saying we know for sure. I'm just saying that I think we..."

"Okay, Okay" interrupted Dean "That's the point. We don't know for sure, so I'm not gonna believe that this thing is a freaking Angel of the Lord if it says so!"

"I understand" I spoke and all heads turned to me. "You need proof, because you have no faith. "

"Yes, I don't believe" he snapped " after seeing all of the things I have, I cannot believe. Don't tell me you can, especially with your little superpower. "

"I believe" I answered, holding his gaze. "I always have, and after seeing all I have, I cannot believe that there is so much evil, without any good to counter it. I feel it in my bones. There is God"

Dean narrowed his eyes at me, but couldn't counter my explanation as my uncle spoke from behind his cluttered desk.

"You three chuckleheads gonna keep fighting over religion, or do you wanna come take a look at this?"

I sighed at that and turned to him, approaching the table and taking one of the opened books in my hands.

"I got stacks of lore, Biblical, pre-Biblical. Some of it is in damn cuneiform. It all says an angel can snatch a person from the pit." He explained.

"This is old" I muttered to myself, gingerly turning the page to see a picture of an angel fighting a horned creature, perhaps a demon.

"What else?" asked Dean, his eyes set on one of the books.

"What what else?" replied my uncle, his brows furrowing.

"What else could do it?" clarified Dean, and I instinctively knew the answer.

"Airlift your ass out of the hot box? As far as I can tell, nothing. " responded my uncle, confirming my suspicions.

"Dean, this is good news" spoke Sam, a smile on his lips.

"How?" asked Dean with a raised eyebrow.

"Because for once, this isn't another round of demon crap. I mean, maybe you were saved by one of the good guys, you know?" spoke Sam and I could see the hope in his voice.

"Okay, say it's true. Say there are angels. Then what? There's God?" asked Dean, clearly not understanding of the concept.

"At this point. Vegas money on yeah." Answered my uncle, shrugging his shoulders.

"I don't know guys." Spoke Dean, pacing around the room.
"Do you believe in demons?" I asked, my voice quiet but it somehow brought even more silence to the room. All eyes were on me and Dean gave me incredulous look.

"Do I believe in demons? Where have you been? I fight them on a daily basis, of course I believe in freaking demons!" snapped he.

"Then why not angels?" I asked. "If you believe there are creatures out to destroy this world, why not believe that there are creatures who are willing to save it? Don't lose hope Dean."

He frowned at my explanation, staring at me.

Sam was the one who broke the silence and Dean resumed his pacing.

"Okay, look. I know that you're no choir boy about this stuff, but this is becoming less and less about faith and more and more about proof!" spoke he.

Dean and I responded in the same time, frowning at each other as we did so.

"Proof?" we repeated.

"Yes" smiled Sam and I tilted my head to the side slightly considering this.

"Proof there is a God out there that actually gives a crap about me personally? I'm sorry, but I'm not buying it." Dean answered and I fought back a sigh.

"Why not?" asked Sam.

"Because why me? If there is a God out there, why would he give a crap about me?" demanded Dean and I realized something at that moment, how insecure he is.

"Dean-" started Sam but Dean apparently wasn't quite finished yet.

"I mean, I've saved some people, okay? I figured that made up for stealing and ditching chicks. But why do I deserve to get saved? I'm just a regular guy." He ranted on.

"Apparently you're a regular guy that's important to the guy upstairs." Smiled Sam.

"Well, that creeps me out. I mean I don't like to be singled out in birthday parties, much less by ... God." He explained.

"Okay, well, too bad Dean, but I think he wants you to strap on the party hat" answered Sam, a little too much mirth in his voice for my liking.

"Fine, what do we do about angels?" sighed Dean.

My uncle took that as a sign to place a hefty pile of books in front of each of us.

Dean gave it one long look and then turned to Sam. "You're gonna get me some pie."

He then took one of the books from the pile at random and walked back to one of the old sofas.

I sighed and took one as well, settling in front of the window for a long day.


My uncle walked into the room after a while and I looked up as he shut his phone, worry written across his face.

"What is it uncle?"I spoke, looking up from the book I've been reading and above my reading glasses.

"It's Olivia" he spoke and I shivered as a sense of dread coursed through me.

"She hasn't answered yet?" I asked, and was for once grateful Dean needed a break from reading, after doing so for a grand total of twenty minutes.

"No. And she hasn't called back." He spoke, still staring at his phone, most likely half expecting it to ring any second.

"Can you sense anything Charlie?" spoke he and I noticed hope in his eyes.

I sighed and closed my book. "You know I can't do that if I am not present with the person. I'm not as powerful as Pam is. Sorry uncle."

"Yeah, I was just checking. 's alright kiddo, I know you'd help if you could." He mumbled.

"Maybe you should go check on her." I suggested, the feeling of dread intensifying with every word. "Just to see that she's safe". Dean chose that moment to walk into the room.
"Just to see that who's safe?" asked he, plopping down on the sofa across from me.

"Olivia Lowry, a hunter. She isn't picking up her phone and I'm gonna go check on her. " grumbled my uncle and I gave him a smile.

"I'm sure she's alright." I spoke, but it seemed my uncle could hear the uncertainty in my voice.

"Yeah, sure she is." He grumbled.

"Well, if you're going to check on her, me and Sammy are gonna help." Offered Dean, standing up as we heard the Impala's engine roar in the yard.

"I could use all the help I could get" answered my uncle and turned to me, as I also stood up.

"I don't think you should come Charlie" spoke he and Dean gave him an incredulous look. "if that thing is an angel, there is no cause to worry, but we don't know that for sure yet and if he's a demon, you'll be safe here."

"He's not a demon" I answered, but relented. "But I will stay here, see if I can find anything else on the angels. Just call me, to keep me up to date, alright?"

"You got it kiddo" he smiled and patted my shoulder, passing by me on the way out.

"Watch his back" I muttered to Dean as he passed me by and I heard him stop in his tracks.

"I will" he responded.


I stood by the window and watched them drive off, fighting the increasing sense of dread and death.

I tried to settle back into the couch and read, but my efforts were in vain, seeing as all my attention seemed to drift to my uncle and the Winchester's. I knew they wouldn't find Olivia alive.

I decided to distract myself by cleaning the layers of dust from the furniture, and seeing as it didn't help me at all, and I could make no progress I decided to step outside, to at least be in the fresh air as I worried.

I stood on the porch, leaning on the railing and staring out at the driveway. I hoped I was wrong, at least this once.

A scent of sea and pine drifted towards me and I spun about, seeing Castiel walk towards me, stopping a mere couple of steps in front of me. He was not as tall as Sam, more of Dean's height, but he could still tower above me.

"Hello Charlotte" he greeted and I turned away from him, able to feel his breath on my face at this proximity.

"Castiel" I spoke, leaning on the railing.

"Dean's not here, so I assume you need to talk to me" I spoke and glanced at him, only to see him staring at me with those unnerving blue eyes of his.

"I do." He said, tilting his head to the side. "You're uncomfortable"

"I am." I admitted and glanced at him "because of you." I spoke and he tilted his head in observation.

I could see genuine confusion and question in his eyes and I sighed, knowing that I needed to elaborate.

"I should react like Dean." I spoke and realized that I confused him even more. "I should be weighing every word you say, I should be demanding to know who you are, not believing that you are an angel. But... I don't. I trust you. So I have to ask. Should I trust you Castiel?"

He seemed to be considering my question and I allowed him some time to do so without interruption.

"I am an Angel of the Lord" spoke he after a while. "You believe in God, so you should believe in his angels."

"That's not what I meant" I spoke and turned to face him completely "I meant, can I trust you, Castiel, not the angels."

"But I am an angel" he spoke and I wondered if he didn't want to understand or simply didn't understand my question.
"Yes, you are. But you are an individual as well. Should I trust you, as your own being with emotions and virtues and flaws?" I elaborated, which only earned me a frown in response.

"I am a soldier, I have no feelings. " he stated slowly, like that would make me believe a word he was saying. "I exist to obey, outside of that, I am nothing."

"Is that what you believe or is that what you were taught to believe?" I questioned but sighed as his frown only deepened. "Never mind" I muttered and turned back to watch the driveway. "Why are you here?" I asked.

"I needed to warn you" he spoke, but I noticed that he still seemed to be pondering my question.

"Olivia Lowry is dead isn't she" I asked, and wrapped my hands around myself , suddenly cold at the thought.

"Yes, and many others. You are in danger, be ready. " he spoke and glanced at my coat, specifically the pocket where my phone was.

"I will see you soon." He spoke, and with one last confused look disappeared in the blink of an eye.

I took that as my cue and made a wild dash for the house, making a beeline through the living room and heading straight to the kitchen. I kept glancing over my shoulder and snatched the first pack of salt I could find, throwing the cabinets open in my haste, and snatching a few pieces of silverware. I spun about, and sprinted through the halls, dashing back to the living room, feeling slightly more protected and snatching one of the shotguns. I ran to the hallway and kicked over a pot with flowers, revealing the hidden floor board. I dropped to my knees and prodded the floor with my fingers, searching for the slight knob. I found it and heaved a relieved sigh, stuffing the flask with holly water in my already full to the brim pockets and jumped up , startled by the ringing of my phone.

I snapped the phone open quickly and ran down to the basement whilst answering.

"Hello?" I asked, fighting to keep my tone as low as possible while still being heard over the phone.

"Charlie, it's me. Listen, Olivia's dead" spoke my uncle and I noticed a hint of sadness in his gruff voice.

"I know, "I answered, spinning about, to check if anything was behind me before descending the stairs to the basement. "I'm sorry uncle."

"You know?" he asked, slightly surprised.

"Never mind that " I replied quickly, spinning the wheel on the iron doors, that led to the safest room in the house.

"None of my friends are answering their phones, I think they may be dead as well, get to the panic room and stay there until I come and pick you up." Answered he and I sighed with relief as I finally managed to open the heavy doors.

"One step ahead of you" I muttered. "Stay safe" with that said, I cut the call and stepped through the iron doors with one last look back, shutting them firmly behind me and locking them.

I took the next couple of seconds to breathe, and my breath came out in short, shallow gasps. I decided that I really needed to work out more if I was going to stay alive in this world.

I briefly wondered why Castiel came to warn me of the danger but didn't tell me what the danger was as I walked over to the desk and plopped there tiredly, my pockets weighing me down just as much as the shotgun in my hands. I put the items I had collected on the table and shut my eyes for a few moments, wondering what in the name of hell was after us this time.

I decided that worrying would get me nowhere fast and decided to try and dig up something on angels from the books my uncle had stashed in the panic room.


After an hour of mostly fruitless research I gave up and leaned back in my chair, my nerves running haywire.

Castiel's confused face haunted my mind and I couldn't help but wonder what his life was truly like, how many of our opinions and lore were just prejudice. I wasn't a big fan of emotions and sentiments, but to live without them completely? Was that even possible?

I was snapped out of my thoughts by the sound of an engine over my head, signifying someone returned, hopefully they all did.

I stood up and took the shotgun with me, loading it and taking of the safety. I placed the salt I had taken with me in my left jacket pocket and grabbed a fistful of the salt in the panic room, depositing it in a small pouch I had secured on the belt of my trousers. I also took the silverware, placing the knife and the fork in the inner pockets of my jacket, just bellow each of my arms. The last was holly water, which got placed on the other side of the belt, for quick access.

I took a deep breath and gave myself a mental pat on the back for remembering to secure my hair up in a high ponytail, it barely reaching my shoulders.

I opened the doors slowly and peered outside through the small gap . The hall appeared to be empty and I took a couple of hesitant steps out and turned to all sides ,my shotgun at a ready. The basement was empty, but I still gripped my shotgun tighter, as a disgusting scent of rotting flesh combined with mould filled my nostrils. It took all my willpower to keep myself from losing my meagre breakfast. Ghosts, I concluded, putting a name to this unknown danger that lurked in my uncle's house.

I turned about for just a second, just to check no one was behind me and I froze in my steps as a voice called out from the bottom of the stairs.

"Hello Charlie" called the distinctly female voice. It sent shivers down my spine and I took a deep breath, willing myself to gather the courage to turn around.

There, idly standing was a woman in worn out jeans and boots with high heels, her shirt buttoned up completely and her brown hair revealing a tattoo I recognised at first glance. Anti-possession charm.

"Hello mother" I answered , fighting the regret that bubbled in my throat.

"Always so distant" she chided with a small smile, which I recognised as fake, only a prelude to the real anger that simmered beneath the surface. "Come, give your mommy a hug" sneered she and I cocked my gun.

"You are not my mother" I snarled and moved to shoot but was too slow and the ghost sent me flying through the air with one fluent move of her hand. I hit the metal doors with a thud and white hot pain coursed down my spine. I was held still by an invisible force, which seemed to be holding my throat.

"You ungrateful brat" she hissed stalking to me as I struggled to breathe against the invisible hand that held my throat and cut off my breath. "I gave you everything I had, I protected you from all those demons that came looking. I did all I could!"

The ghost disappeared after that and appeared inches from my face. "And when we needed you the most, where the hell were you?" she sneered, releasing my her grip on my throat just to swing her hand at me. I caught a glimmer of a tattoo that she most definitely did not have while she was alive before her hand made contact with my face.

My head spun to the side and she resumed her pressure on my throat, and I felt blood pool around the edge of my mouth.

I narrowed my eyes at her and she resumed her pressure.

"You let us die! You saved yourself and you let me and your little sister die!" she screamed in my face and I subtly took a fistful of salt from the little pouch on my belt.

"I...did" I croaked out " I should... have died... with you..."

"You damn well should have you ungrateful little bitch!" snarled the ghost and intensified the pressure on my throat.

"First mistake... "I croaked "you... disturbed my mother's ... rest" I managed and splashed her with salt. The ghost disappeared and I fell to my knees, coughing and fighting for breath. It took me a moment but I managed to get to my feet, taking the shotgun firmly in my hands.

"Second mistake" I spoke to myself and noted how cracked my voice sounded. "You made me hurt my mother"

I climbed the steps slowly, careful not to make even the slightest noise. Voices greeted me on the ground floor and I recognised two speakers were children and the third was my uncle. I snuck up behind them just to see two girls in white dresses, facing my uncle.

"You promised you'd save us Bobby" spoke one , and her high voice sent chills through my spine.

"But you didn't "spoke one and I hurriedly took salt in both of my hands and swung my shotgun over my shoulder.

"And now, no one is going to save you!" giggled the second girl and I stepped forward, salt flying through the air.

"Guess again brat" I hissed, frowning at how much pain that simple action brought me.

"Charlie!" exclaimed my uncle, and I flinched slightly at the nickname. He approached me and gave me a quick hug.

"Hey uncle" I greeted, turning around, trying to cover all means of approach. "Ghosts huh?" I spoke.

"Yes, and some mighty angry ones I'll give 'em that" Muttered he and I handed him a bag of salt.

"But why are they here?" I asked.

"I don't know kiddo. Who did ya see?" he asked, noting the bruises on my neck and the blood on my lower lip.

"Mom" I spoke , my eyes darting across the room, landing on anything and everything at once, but never on my uncle.

"Damn it!" swore he "how did ya make it out of that alive? How did ya know that there was a danger for that matter? You were already preparing when I called?" he asked his voice surprised.

"I was warned" I hissed and looked at him only to see him forming a circle around us in salt.

"By who?" asked he and I turned to answer him, only to see the same little girl behind him.

"Uncle duck!" I yelled and as soon as he was down, I fired and the ghost vanished.

"Good shot" murmured my uncle , continuing his work.

"There were two of them" I snarled and immediately froze, hit by an invisible force that took my ability to move away from me.

"Let her go!" demanded my uncle and charged the ghost that merely relocated.

"Don't move Bobby" singed the other girl, who also appeared, standing in front of me, mere inches from my stomach."Or your little niece get's her organs rearranged."

I knew my uncle did not move and I did all I could to fight back my panic. My uncle did not have many weaknesses, but family is one of them.

"Shoot uncle" I hissed, fighting the grip on my limbs.

"Shhh we must be quite now" spoke the small girl in front of me in a sing song kind of a voice.

"Bite me" I hissed at her "uncle, shoot the damn brat already!"

I noticed that the girl's face morphed with anger and watched with horror as she reached inside my chest and closed her small hand around my heart. I tried to fight back a scream of pain, but it turned out that the pain was too much for me to handle.

I heard the girl speak but I couldn't make out her words over the sound of my own scream. The pain vanished just as soon as it appeared and I was flung through the air, my head hitting the coffee table with a sickening thud, my vision turning black.


"Lie?" I heard someone mumble and I struggled to surpass the darkness that enveloped me like a cage.

"Charlie?" I heard someone call again. A face flashed through my head, a gruff old man, his beard covering most of his face. My uncle, I remembered. Uncle.

I opened my eyes and quickly sat up, almost bumping into Sam who was leaning above me, trying to get me to come to, no doubt. The sudden movement sent the room flying, and my hands instinctively came to grasp my head, as if that would force the room to stop dancing in front of me.

"Is she awake?" asked Dean and I shut my eyes when I saw that he had entered the room , carrying a glass of water with him.

"I'm awake hot shot" I murmured, frowning as my fingers found a rather nasty bump on the top of my head, the area around it tender to the touch, and my fingers found sticky substance around it. I quickly withdrew them, seeing as prodding the wound would only cause a stinging sensation accompanied by stabs of pain.

I opened my eyes and brought my fingers in front of me, only to see the tips coated in a slight layer of red. My blood. It was beginning to dry up and I turned my head up, to see the worried faces of the Winchester boys.

"Where is my uncle?" I groaned, swatting Dean's hand away as he offered me a glass of water.

"We were hoping that you'd tell us that " spoke Sam and I looked up, for the first time meeting his eyes. They were a murky brown-green colour, resembling those of my mother.

"There were ghosts" I mumbled, trying to push myself of the ground. "They held me captive and used me as a hostage. They took my uncle, but I think they are keeping him somewhere on the grounds. "

Sam noticed my attempts of standing up and hesitantly offered his hand.

I, however, took it without hesitation and used it to stand up, still a little unsteady on my feet. I tried to move a step forward experimentally and my vision swayed, so I gripped Sam's arm for support.

I blinked the dizziness away and managed a couple of steps forward, letting go of Sam's arm, my strength returning rapidly.

"So Sammy doesn't stink anymore?" asked Dean, a smirk on his lips.

I narrowed my eyes at and walked straight past him.

"If you have time to taunt me, use it to find my uncle" I hissed, more out of pain that still somewhat clouded my eyes.

The smirk left his lips and he loaded his shotgun.

"I'll take the house, you take the backyard Sammy." He spoke, all mirth gone from his voice.

"I'll come with you Sam" I spoke, still moving in a slow pace, trying to save my strength.

"No you are not" responded Dean, assuming what I guessed was his best big brother pose "you might have a concussion, and you can barely move!"

I stepped closer to him, getting into his face, one of my fingers stabbing him in the chest.

"That man who the ghost have taken hostage is my uncle Dean! My only living relative ! I'll be damned if I sit and wait this one out! I WILL search for him, even if that means I die, do you understand? This is my call to make, not yours, and if you stand in my way, by God, I will shoot you down first" I hissed at him and stepped past, satisfied that my feet once again found the ground stable and unmoving.

"Come on Sam , we're wasting time!" I spoke and walked out of the house, shotgun at hand, without bothering to check if Sam was indeed behind me.

I glanced at him as he fell in step beside me.

"Uncle!" I screamed as best as I could, my throat still very sore.

"Bobby!" called Sam as well by my side, his call ringing through the grounds much stronger than mine could.

We came to a stop in front of the salvage yard, and I looked at the many paths of cars.

"We should split up" I commented, eyeing the paths and trying to sense the ghosts. My job made difficult by the throbbing in my head and the many scents running through the air.

Sam glanced at me with surprise "You can't take them on in your state" he spoke and I noticed his eyes travelled from my bruised neck, to my swollen lip and up to the top of my head, which he could most likely see properly, something I did not want to do at the moment.

"I can and I will" I snarled, cocking the shotgun. "You take the right and I'll take the left"

"Are you sure?" he asked, his eyes lingering on my head.

I turned to meet his eyes with grim determination. "I am." And with that I took off to the left.

I walked slowly, fighting panic that urged me to run and disregard all measures of safety. My eyes danced across the path, looking for the slightest bit of movement, and I turned around every couple of steps. I called out to my uncle as loud as I could.

And I couldn't find him. It took all my willpower not to give up and fall down in tears, succumbing to the horrible little voice in my head, whispering that I would be too late. Again.

I heard footsteps behind me and I spun about, my shotgun ready, only to see my uncle and Sam walking briskly towards me.

"Come on kiddo" spoke my uncle when they reached me, Sam keeping a look out. "We've got to get in the house."

I let out a deep breath, feeling like the weight of the world got lifted off my shoulders.

"Uncle" I croaked and gave him a tight hug. "I thought..."

"Don't cha write me off just yet kiddo" spoke he, returning the hug briefly. "What happened to yer head?" he asked and I let him go, taking aim with my shotgun immediately.

"Not now, we have to go inside" I rasped, noting that my voice was steadily getting worse.

We made our way to the house, only to find a beat up Dean, sitting on the couch.

"Bobby!" called he, somehow managing a smile.

My uncle seemed to be the one in the best condition out of all of us and wasted no time in pointing that out.

"What the hell happened to ya all?" he asked, eyeing Sam's bruised up face, Dean who was holding his stomach and wincing every now and then and me, who must have looked like I got used as a punching bag.

"Ghosts Bobby, the same thing that happened to the other hunters" muttered Dean.

"Who did you see?" asked Sam and I noticed that Dean would not meet his eyes.

"Meg" he muttered.

"And I saw Henriksen" muttered Sam, no doubt trying to make sense out of the situation.

"I saw two little girls that died while I was on a hunt" spoke my uncle, looking through the window.

"And you?" asked Dean, his eyes on my bruises.

"I saw my mother" I answered and I saw that he lowered his eyes as those words left my mouth.

"Sorry" he muttered and I nodded in acknowledgement.

"So they're all people we know?" asked Sam, looking for confirmation from each of us.

"Not just know" spoke Dean and gave me and odd look "people we couldn't save" he spoke and all eyes turned on me. Silence ruled in the room but I said nothing at the proclamation. What was there left to say?

"Hey, I saw something on Meg. Did she have a tattoo when she was alive?" asked Dean, breaking the silence.

My mind travelled back to the tattoo I saw on my mother's hand.

"I don't think so" answered Sam, his brows furrowing.

"It was like a mark on her hand- almost a brand" continued Dean and I looked up.

"Just here?" I spoke, lifting my hand and pointing with my other to the area between my thumb and forefinger and when Dean nodded I spoke again "My mother had one too. It was not there when she was alive."

"I saw a mark too, on Henriksen" offered Sam.

"What did it look like?" asked my uncle and I shrugged, not really remembering the mark from the brief glimpse during the fight.

"Uh, paper?" asked Sam, patting his pockets in search of some paper.

I walked over to the desk I had occupied before and handed him a piece of discarded paper along with a pen.

"Thanks" muttered he , bent over the paper, quickly making a rough sketch of the sign I saw.

"That's it" exclaimed Dean and Sam looked up to me for confirmation.

"I guess" I spoke, staring at it with a feeling of familiarity. I had seen it somewhere before, but I could not for the life of me remember where.

"I may have seen this before. We got to move " muttered my uncle, turning around with his shotgun, just as the room turned cold again.

"Whoa" spoke Sam, looking at his breath as it left his mouth.

"Follow me "spoke my uncle, with one last look around, heading to the basement.

"Okay, where are we going?" asked Sam, immediately following my uncle.

I still stood at the same place I had been, my back to them, trying to cover all ways of approach.

"Some place safe ya idget" responded my uncle.

Dean had remained back with me, and I gave him a glance. "What the hell are you waiting for? Move!" I demanded and he backed away, me following.

The basement was somewhat warmer, and I stood at the base of the stairs, my shotgun pointed upwards while my uncle opened the heavy iron doors.

"Bobby this is.." spoke Sam and I noticed the doors were opened and I walked slowly backwards towards them.

"Solid iron, completely coated in salt. 100% ghost proof." Spoke my uncle with no little dose of pride in his voice.

"You built a panic room?" asked Sam, and I turned around briefly only to see them standing outside of the room, marvelling it while ghosts could show up any second.

"Get inside you morons!" I demanded and they quickly obeyed, my uncle shutting the doors behind us.

"I had a weekend off" commented my uncle with a shrug of his shoulders.

I felt like I was suddenly very drained of energy and I stumbled my way to the bed, plopping on it.

"Bobby" called Dean and I tiredly look over to see him grinning and turning in a slow circle, observing the room.

"What?" answered my uncle who made his way to the desk, frowning as he noticed that I had cleaned it up.

"You're awesome" marvelled Dean and stopped after seeing a poster of a model in a swimming suit. "Oh" he added with a grin.

I noticed Sam was observing me , seemingly wishing to talk to me but slightly hesitant in doing it.

"Yes?" I spoke with an arched eyebrow and he visibly flinched at my tone.

I sighed and tried again. "Look, sorry about the tone, I'm just a little tired. Do you need something?"

"Well, that gash on your head looks nasty and I think it's still bleeding, so if you want... I could take a look at it for you." He offered with a small smile.

"No need, " I refused and tried to make it sound like I wasn't being a total bitch to him "I'm fine, it's just a small cut."

"Charlie, let Sam take a look" spoke my uncle and I rolled my eyes at his back. "Don'cha give me that attitude missy, head injuries can be really serious"

"I'm fine uncle" I muttered to myself, wondering when he was going to stop babying me.

"Charlotte" grumbled he and I sighed in defeat.

"Fine. " I hissed and glared at Dean who gave me a smirk.

"Ah, could you turn left?" asked Sam and I did so, feeling the mattress of the bed sink beneath him as he sat behind me.

"Man" spoke Dean from the corner. "I knew you were short, but next to Sam you look like a midget" commented he chuckling.

I would have thrown something at him, but seeing as I had left my jacket on the chair next to the exit and had empty hands, I settled on flipping him off.

"A rude little midget it seems" smirked he .

I was just about to answer when Sam interrupted.

"May I?" asked he and I huffed a yes at him.

"Uh... you'll need to let your hair down" he murmured and I noticed that he was rather uncomfortable in my presence, which may have been caused by my insults when I first met him. Great idea Charlotte, I chided to myself.

I reached back and accidently brushed against his hand, which he immediately withdrew.

I let my hair fall down to its usual length, just bellow my shoulder blades and decided that I needed to clear up some things with Sam.

"Listen Sam" I spoke and I noticed that Dean looked up "You don't have to be so jumpy around me. I'm not sorry about the things I said, but I also want you to know that I'm not going to judge you based on your blood nor your history. So, do you think we could start over?" I asked, shifting so I was facing him and extended my hand to him.

"I am Charlotte Fields" I spoke with a small smile, noticing that his posture relaxed and he grinned at me. "Sam Winchester " he answered.

"A pleasure " I countered and turned back" Now, do you think you could patch up my head?" I asked, sending Dean roar with laughter and even my uncle's shoulders shook with poorly concealed laughter.