2008 – September

Part 4

South Dakota – Sioux Falls

Charlotte had left the three men inside whilst she went out back. Her head was still sore and it almost felt as though she was light headed. God what is going on? She rubbed the heel of her hand against her eyes and frowned at the open trunk of her car. It was as messy as ever, clothes, guns, food wrappers and a couple of books decorating it. She moved her hand through the mess and lifted up the false bottom to show her array of hunting gear. Before she let her hand wonder any further she eyed the back door. Three seconds passed before she moved her hand to the assortment of screwed up rags in one corner. From underneath it she pulled out the Colt and held it in both hands. Her eyes travelled to the back door once more before she turned her attention to the gun with a sigh.

One bullet was all she had and it annoyed her. As she continued to let her fingers trail over the weapon, the 'kill any monster' weapon, she furrowed her brows and pressed her knees against the car. She closed her eyes and sighed. This wasn't right. Things were a mess and if she kept her mouth shut they would only get messier. The Colt was just one thing on a list of many that she wanted to forget or wished she could erase.

On top of that she had trouble looking Dean, Sam or Bobby in the eyes. Even just being in the room with them as they discussed Angel lore was testing and she'd retreated out here. She lifted her eyes and looked around the salvage yard, a fond smile coming over her face. It had been almost five months since she'd seen this place and it didn't seem to have changed much.

A figure in the doorway attracted her attention and she smiled unconsciously at Sam. He waved and quickly she worked on stuffing the Colt back where she'd pulled it from. By the time the taller Winchester had reached her car she'd been able to make it look as though she was sorting out the mess of weapons in her trunk. She liked the mess, grew up messy, so sue her.

"Hey," he said.

She looked up at him and smiled tightly, "Hi. How's it going in there?" She carefully settled the false bottom back across her weapons and let her eyes take in the mess of her trunk. In all honesty she really needed to clean that up.

Sam leaned against the side of her car with his hip and said, "Oh you know, Dean still trying to pretend Angels aren't real."

Charlotte laughed once and lifted her brows, "Of course he is." She leaned forward and started moving stuff around to try to tidy her car up. A lot of it needed to go straight into a bin but for now, she could make it look better. After a moment she glanced up at Sam to see him looking at her with a weird look on his face. "What?"

He folded his arms over his chest, stood up straight and looked down at her with concern in his eyes, "Are you okay?"

She frowned at him and shrugged her shoulders, "Why wouldn't I be?"

In that moment she felt the full force of a Sam Winchester bitch face and she felt her mouth run dry. "They might not want to say anything or they might not even notice, but I know you. At least I thought I knew you." She stared at him, the muscles in her jaw working. She'd hoped that she could go a few more hours before somebody said something, and if it had been anybody she had expected Bobby to say something. "When we knocked on I was expecting you to either punch Dean or kiss him." He gave a short laugh and she managed a single laugh before she watched his face drop. "You've changed."

She nodded her head at him and stuffed her hands into her jeans pockets, "So have you."

He smiled tightly and she watched as it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Did something happen?"

Charlotte sighed, closed the trunk and perched herself on it. Sam stood next to her, his hands pressed into the cool metal. "A lot of things happened Sam."

"Anything you want to talk about?"

"Aww Sammy," she said, turning a sarcastic smile up to him, "you're just a cuddly teddy bear aren't you?"

He smiled at that, "Shut up."

She ducked her eyes and let the smile slowly wither from her face with another sigh. She glanced at his hands on the edge of her vision and bit down on the inside of her bottom lip. "Sam," she started slowly, still trying to talk herself out of the words that were forming on her tongue. As much as she wanted to keep things quiet and to herself, she knew that it would eat her up, more than it was already doing. Charlotte lifted her eyes to the taller man and subconsciously licked her lips. If anybody would understand it would be him. "You ever do something," she started again in a low voice, "something, stupid, something that might come back to bite you in the ass out of desperation." She watched him straighten up, his arms folded over his chest as he nodded his head once, his eyes fixed on her. "You ever do something because," she stalled, shaking her head slightly as she looked over his shoulder at a tree, "you know it's the right thing to do but it's under the wrong circumstances?"

Sam stared at her, his brows furrowed, and Charlotte felt her heart start to race. There was every chance that this conversation was going to blow up in her face but she knew that Sam would be the only one to understand.

Eventually he nodded, his expression softening. "Yeah, I do." She tilted her head back and examined Sam's face before she nodded. "If it's with good intentions," he shrugged his shoulders and she felt the corners of her mouth twitching up, "and it's to help people, then I don't have a problem with it."

Somehow that didn't make her feel better but she kept her smile in place as she slid off the trunk of her car and settled her hand on his arm. She gave it a small squeeze and said, "Thanks."

"Oh," he said as she started back towards the house, "you want anything? I'm going into town to grab some food do you want something?"

Charlotte felt her phone bus and when she saw the name 'C' she frowned and quickly read the address: Livingston, Montana. "No," she said to Sam as she stuffed her phone back into her pocket. She gave Sam a tiny smile and said, "I'm good."

Sam frowned at her as he fell in step next to her, "You're not going to answer that?"

She shrugged her shoulders, trying to ignore the urge to grab her keys and go to that address, "It's not important." She rubbed vaguely at the side of her head as she felt the ache begin to subside into nothing but a quiet whisper. Inside the house she found Dean sat at the couch in the living room, book in hand, and Bobby in the kitchen by the phones. Dean lifted his eyes to look at her and she gave him a small smile. Sam took the keys Dean held out and she moved to grab one of the books on Bobby's desk before she took the empty seat next to him as Sam left.

Dean side glanced at her and she raised her brows at him as she skimmed through the pages of the book with her eyes. "Yes Dean?"

He settled the book in his lap and turned his full attention to her, "What happened?"

She lifted her eyes from the book to look at him, "What?"

He grabbed her hand in his and brushed his thumb over her still red knuckles with raised brows. "What happened?"

Her eyes fell to their hands and she enjoyed the extra warmth he provided. It would've been easy for her to turn her hand over and thread her fingers through his and squeeze. The corners of her mouth twitched as she recalled exactly what had happened. It wasn't pretty and it wasn't a story she wanted to retell anytime soon. Slowly she lifted her gaze to his face and found him examining her, waiting. She swallowed and dropped her eyes again, "Just a bad hunt."

His thumb stilled and she mentally kicked herself. "Charlotte."

She dragged her eyes up to him, silently pleading him to just drop it. "What?"

Dean stared at her for several moments and she watched his green eyes move across her face before he pulled his head back slightly, brows furrowed, and squeezed her hand slightly. He opened his mouth and shook his head slowly, "Just talk to me. Anything."

Charlotte let her eyes fall back to their hands and she let her eyes trail over every single shape of his hand. She swallowed, trying to think and trying to come up with something. Slowly she turned her hand over and slid her fingers in the spaces between his. He moved and curled his hand around hers with a gentle squeeze. She smiled. Things used to be simple. Now? She sighed and closed the book with her other hand, her eyes still fixed on their linked hands. After several seconds of silence she lifted her eyes back up to Dean and wished that somewhere along the way they'd drawn a line at what they had because right now she wished she could walk away from him. "Dean," she started slowly and she watched him tilt his head back with every sign that he was waiting and listening carefully. She clamped her mouth shut, squeezed his hand and took a deep shaky breath. "Honestly?"

He frowned at her slightly, studied her for a moment and nodded. "Honesty would be nice."

She nodded with a slight flicker to her lips and watched his face as she worked up the right combination of words in her mind. She pulled her hand away and turned her face away from him. Several times she opened her mouth, trying to get the words out, and each time she wanted to say the same six words, You deserve somebody better than me. She bit down on her bottom lip, shook her head and forced out the words, "I'm a mess."

"Who isn't?"

"Dean," she said snapping her head up to him. He clamped his mouth shut and she stared at him for several seconds before she sighed, "I'm a mess okay? I am nothing but a mess." She could feel those words fighting to come up again and she squashed them down with a shake of her head. In a whisper she said, "I've done things I'm not proud of. Things I don't want to remember." She turned away from him and ducked her head, "My head is all over the place and with you suddenly being alive," another smile flickered briefly onto her lips, "god," she looked back up at him with a wry smile, "you make me want to go running for the hills." His brows knitted into confusion and she shook her head as she carried on. "You just got back from hell and there is no way that you deserve whatever is going on with me." She couldn't look at him anymore and she felt her heart racing as she bit her lip. There was a whole backlog of words that still clawed for fresh air, but she held them in as she waited.

"Charlotte," Dean said eventually. "Look at me," he whispered. She did, reluctantly. He forced a smile onto his face and she watched him lift an arm and cup her face with his hand. "I don't care." There was a strange look in his eyes that had her frowning at him. "I don't care if you're a mess," he shrugged a shoulder and shuffled closer to her, "cause I am too."

She lifted a hand to pull his away, "Dean?"

He smiled tightly at her before he leaned forward and kissed her softly. It was gentle and tender and everything they weren't. She closed her eyes and responded by grabbing a hold of his wrist with a sigh. When they parted he pressed his head to hers with a grimace and she watched his face. He didn't look at her and his eyes were still closed as he gripped her shoulder with his other hand. "I'm a mess too," he whispered, "I remember hell." She stared at him, her eyes wide. He blinked his eyes open then and she watched him stare at her, something close to guilty sadness in his eyes, "I remember every bit of it."