Chapter 10

"Men, men, men.. "

M. O. L. Bunker

815am

Sam looked up when he heard Dean slowly trudge into the kitchen, looking haggard and distracted. He grabbed the pot of freshly brewed coffee and poured his brother a cup."You look pretty rough around the edges this morning. You ok?"

Dean let out a heavy sigh. "Depends on what your definition of ok is?" Dean responded. He accepted the coffee gratefully and sat down. "Charlie had another nightmare."

"Again?" Sam responded concerned.

Dean nodded. "Yeah. It took awhile for her to fall back asleep. I'm betting she'll be out for awhile."

Sam looked confused. "That's odd." He commented.

Dean looked back at Sam questioningly.

"She's actually already up. She came in here earlier." Sam stated. "She's in the shooting gallery."

"What for?" Dean looked confused.

Sam nodded, "She said she needed to let off some steam. It was strange but I figured.." Sam stopped mid sentence when his brother put down his coffee and unexpectedly headed out of the kitchen. "Hey Dean?" Sam called.

A minute later...

Bunker, Shooting Gallery

Charlie stood with her back straight, her arm outstretched and her hand firmly clutching a semi automatic. She aimed and squeezed off several shots with deadly accuracy. Dean took a few slow measured steps into the room.

"This is the last place I thought I'd.. well.. ever find you. I thought you were still sleeping?" Dean said while she reloaded.

"Sleep is overrated." She responded before she again took aim and squeezed off several more shots.

Dean looked on. "You're good."

"Was there ever any doubt?" She smiled.

"Ah, no. Not since you schooled me the last time we were in here." He smiled nostaglically at the memory. It seemed like a lifetime ago. "Can we talk?" He asked.

She nodded her head as she clicked the safety back on her gun and held it to her side. She turned to face him and waited. Dean wasn't ready for the quick attention.

"Ah, are you alright?" Dean asked hesitantly.

Charlie stared at him intently and he found it a little unnerving the way her eyes seem to bore into his.

"Yes. I'm fine." She spoke almost mechanically.

Dean raised an eyebrow. "You're fine?"

"Yes, I'm fine." She repeated.

Dean looked at her quizzically. "It's just that nightmare you had last night had you completely shaken."

"Well, I'm fine now." She repeated. Her response struck him as odd and it left him feeling a little flustered.

"You keep saying that." Dean said.

"Do you not want me to be ok?" She asked in a flat tone.

"No, of course not, but.., " Dean stammered caught off guard by her comment.

"But what?" Charlie cut in.

Dean suddenly felt as if he were tip toeing over a field of old weathered mines ready to explode at the slightest stirring. He took a pause in an effort to gather his thoughts.

"It took over an hour for you to calm down. You were crying, shaking and saying things that were frankly.. concerning." He shook his head, lines etched into his forehead as he spoke.

"Well, that was yesterday." Charlie responded. "Today is a new day." She responded. "So, yeah, I'm good."

"Just like that?" He asked her skeptically.

Charlie narrowed her eyes at him. "You want me to act scared? Be vulnerable?" She asked calmly.

"No. No, I don't want any of that." Dean protested.

".. and yet it bothers you that I don't seem to exhibit any of those things here today." Charlie said.

"That's not what I said." Dean looked at her with surprise.

"Then what's your point?" She asked rather brazenly.

Dean was taken off guard by her reaction. He again felt like he had to be on the defensive.

"My point is it's one hell of 360." Dean shot back, his voice raised slightly. "What did I miss?"

She just stared at him for a long uncomfortable moment. "Are all men like this? Wanting us to stay weak and compliant? Bend us to their will so they can tell us what to do and how we should feel whenever they fucking please?"

"Whoa.. whoa.. what the hell is going on here Charlie?" Dean stared at her wide eyed, his emotions now swirling into a mixture of confusion and disbelief. His instincts were making noise at him again. He wasn't sure what they were saying but they were definitely waving red flags all over the place. He had never heard her speak this way before, not to him, not to anyone. It was very disconcerting.

"I am so sick of men thinking they have the right to control everything all the time. Men, men, men taking what they want when they want. This world would be a whole lot better off without men at the helm." Charlie tilted her head to the side as she took a menacing step towards Dean with her gun still tightly gripped in her hand.

She raised it slightly, her eyes never wavering from his. The mere motion had him second guessing what was to come next. Several tense seconds passed between them, each staring at the other like it was a game of chicken.

Charlie finally blinked several times before she looked away. "I... um.." She paused when she stared down at the gun gripped firmly in her hand. Dean noticed a sense of surprise and confusion in her expression. What the hell, he thought.

"I... think.. I'm done here." She frowned, looking around the room uncomfortably before she passed off her gun to Dean. "I'm gonna go. Yeah, I'm gonna go." She said awkwardly. Then she walked right out of the room without another word.

Dean was a little stunned by what he had just witnessed. He looked down to the gun he now held in his hand and turned it over. His brain was fighting hard to wade through the confusion that barraged him.

Sam entered the room moments after. "Hey, what happened? Charlie just brushed past me without a word."

Dean wasn't sure of much at that point, but he knew one thing for certain as he gave Sam a side glance. "We're gonna need Cas."

... to be continued...