AUTHOR'S NOTE: Spoiler for a character death in the movie "Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part I".
Hello my lovelies, my apologies for a chapter that may seem a little darker than usual. My muse went to a place that I wasn't really expecting, and I just let her go. And unfortunately, stress can cause people to react more harshly than they normally would.
~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~
Uncle Sam's phone rang.
"Agent Sambora," he answered. "Yes? Oh...oh man...hold on, let me get my notebook..." he shifted on the front seat and pulled out a little notebook and pen. "Go ahead...wait, that's the same site as the first one...Geez...all right. Let me talk to my partner and I'll get back in touch with you." He disconnected the call and looked over at Daddy. "You're not going to believe this," he said. "There was another attack, at the very first site, where..." he jerked his head at me.
"Oh man," Daddy said under his breath. "When?"
"About 45 minutes ago, some hikers discovered it." Uncle Sam was trying to talk quietly.
"So this thing is getting bolder." Daddy said, shaking his head.
"Yeah, or more desperate." Uncle Sam said. "Want to go check it out?"
"Yeah, I do," Daddy said. "But we've got to get to the hotel by 4 and check in, and if we go back to the site after, it's gonna be even further away...shit," he sighed and raked his hand through his hair. "What are we gonna do about Charlie? I'm not taking her there."
"Let me call Dad and let him know, see what he suggests." Uncle Sam said.
"What's happening?" I asked, leaning forward and looking back and forth at them. "Did you say- did you say the, the creature came back to the place where- where Mommy—" I burst into loud sobs, and curled up in a ball on the seat.
"Hey, Charlie," Daddy said. "It's all right."
Uncle Sam put his finger in his ear. "What? I can't hear-you know what, Dad, let me call you back," he said in a loud voice. He hung up the phone and turned to me. "Honey, it's all right, you're safe," he said. "Nothing will happen to you."
"But what if you go there to check things out and it's still there, and it- it- you said it's getting bolder!" I wailed, hiccuping with sobs.
"Charlie," Daddy said in a loud voice. "This isn't helping anything. Get ahold of yourself. We need to make some plans."
I tried to stop crying, but I couldn't. Daddy and Uncle Sam talked in low voices for a moment, then Daddy pulled the car over to a shoulder on the side of the road.
He unbuckled and turned to me. "Sam and I need to make some phone calls," he told me. "You're going to stay in the car right now, got it? We'll be just outside."
Uncle Sam turned and offered me a reassuring smile, and cupped my cheek with his hand. They both got out of the car, and walked a couple of feet away. I watched them out the window as they paced and talked. I still couldn't stop crying. Why was this happening? Why wouldn't this creature stop? How had Aunt Michelle escaped from jail? Was I ever going to be safe again? Would Daddy and Uncle Sam be safe? I felt more and more anxious, until I couldn't stand it.
I opened the car door and got out, running over to Daddy. I threw my arms around his waist, and he turned, surprised. "I'm gonna have to call you back," he said into the phone. "Charlie, what-" he started to say as he hung up.
"Please don't go!" I wailed. "What if you go there and it's there and it gets you and, and then you die too? What will happen to me? Pleeeease! Don't leave me!" I was crying so hard I could barely see.
I heard Daddy sigh, but it was angry-sounding. He took my arm and tried to pull me away from him. "Charlie, I told you to stay in the car!" he snapped.
He spanked my bottom once, and I gasped and let go of him, stumbling back so he wouldn't swat me again.
"But Daddy-" I sobbed.
"Get your ass back in the car, now!" he pointed. I looked up at him and his jaw twitched. I hurried back to the car and climbing into the back, curling up in a little ball and sobbing.
A couple minutes later, I heard him and Uncle Sam talking, right next to the car. Their voices were raised. I heard Daddy say, "I don't know, Sam, do you have a better idea?This whole situation sucks!"
They both got into the car, slamming their doors and muttering under their breath. Daddy started the car and pulled out into traffic.
"Charlie," Daddy said. "Charlie, are you buckled? Sit up, get buckled, and look at me," he said, and his voice was firm.
"You keep disobeying me like that and I'm not giving you any more warnings," he told me. "I'm tired of this. I tell you to do something, you do it. You disobey me, and I'm gonna spank your butt right then and there, and I don't care if we're on the side of the road or in a crowded store. You will listen to me and do what I tell you. You got that?"
Tears filled my eyes again as he talked. Why was he being so mean?
"Y-yes, Daddy." I said quietly.
"What? Answer me!" he said loudly.
I cleared my throat, "Yes, Daddy," I said louder.
"Dean," Uncle Sam said.
"What, Sam?" Daddy snapped. "Didn't you yourself say that you weren't going to keep letting her get away with shit, that you were going to call her on it right away?"
"Well...yeah...but, I mean, she's upset now," Uncle Sam tried to sound reasonable.
"She's upset because she got in trouble and got her butt smacked," Daddy said. "Charlie, we're going to go check into the hotel, and then we have to go out. You're going to stay with either Dad or Bobby."
"But—but-" I started to protest.
"I don't want to hear it!" he snapped. "That's the way it has to be right now!"
"But Daddyyyy!" I whined.
He slammed his hand on the steering wheel. "Dammit, Charlie, I don't want to hear any whining! What did I just say to you? Do I need to pull this car over again and put you over my knees?"
I shrank back against the seat. "No, Daddy!" I said. "I'm sorry!" I bit my lip and turned my head to look out the window, hoping that looking outside would distract me from all the upset in my tummy and head.
"Dean, chill out," Uncle Sam said quietly. "You're starting to sound more and more like Dad when he was in his full on military mode."
"Well, maybe I'm starting to understand why he pulled that on us," Daddy muttered. "It's frustrating when you've got a kid who won't listen. I can't imagine having two pulling the same shit. No wonder he blistered our asses like he did."
"Dean-" Uncle Sam said, and then he shook his head, and turned away, looking out the window.
The rest of the drive was quiet. We pulled into a big fancy hotel, and I took Daddy's hand right away when I got out of the car. He was walking fast, and I had to hurry to keep up with him. Grandpa John and Uncle Bobby were already in the lobby.
Daddy let my hand go, and said, "You stay with Uncle Sam."
I stepped close to Uncle Sam and took his hand. He looked down at me and smoothed his hand over my hair.
"They told me that Dean has to be the one to fill out all the paperwork," Grandpa John said. He looked down at me. "Charlie, want to go check out the pool after we get settled?"
"Uh, I dunno," I said uncomfortably.
I shifted, and pulled on Uncle Sam's hand. "Uncle Sam, I gotta go potty," I said quietly.
"Okay," he said, looking around. "Let's go ask where they are."
We walked up to the counter next to Daddy. He looked down at me and frowned. "Charlie, what-" he started, and then he noticed Uncle Sam.
"We'll be right back." Uncle Sam told him.
He led me down a hallway to the restrooms.
"Are you okay to go in by yourself, or do you want to come in the men's with me?"
"I'm okay." I said nervously.
"I'll be right here, all right?" he smiled at me.
I did what I needed as quickly as possible, and hurried out to the hallway, breathing a sigh of relief when I saw Uncle Sam. I took his hand again and we walked back out to the lobby. Daddy was standing with Grandpa John and Uncle Bobby.
He handed Uncle Sam two plastic cards.
"We're in the business wing," he said. "You need a key card to get on the floor, this blue one, and the white one is for the room. There's also an alarm we can activate at night."
"Let's go get some of the bags, so we can get her settled," Grandpa John said.
"I'll wait here with Charlie, and we can all go up together," Uncle Sam said. The others left the lobby, and Uncle Sam said, "Look, there's a huge fish tank. You want to go over and look at it?"
We walked over and watched the fish swimming around. It was in the front of a restaurant that was in the lobby.
"Looks fancy," Uncle Sam said. "Maybe we can eat there one night. Have you ever eaten in a fancy restaurant before?"
"Uh, a couple times. Cousin Jackie had a wedding thing at one, and Mommy's work had a Christmas party at one once too. Mommy said it wasn't worth it to bring me though 'cause I never wanted to eat the fancy foods."
"Yeah, I know," Uncle Sam said. "Kids aren't used to fancy stuff, are they?"
"There you are," said Daddy. "Let's go."
We went into an elevator- which didn't have buttons, you had to press a number code into a keypad- and then went onto the floor. There was a small lobby when you got off the elevator, and you had to put the plastic card into a slot and wait for the door to open. We followed Daddy down the hallway.
"Here is is," he said. When you opened the door, the alarm system made a beeping sound.
The room was big, with high ceilings. It had a large sofa facing a flat screen tv, and a full kitchen with a litte stove, fridge, and microwave. There was a large desk in the corner as well as a table and chairs in the kitchen area. At the back of the room there was a door, and it opened into a bedroom with two large beds and a bathroom.
There was another door next to the wall where the front door was, that opened into another set of rooms. That was the set for Grandpa John and Uncle Bobby.
"You and I will sleep in the bedroom, Sam can take the fold out couch," Daddy said.
"Fine by me," Uncle Sam said. He set my backpack with all my toys on the sofa. Daddy took the other bags into the bedroom.
"Charlie, I also brought in your drawing supplies and your 3DS," Uncle Sam said. "Maybe playing that will take your mind off of things."
"There's room service as well as that place downstairs," Daddy said. "They offer continental breakfast in the morning too."
"We can order room service tonight," Grandpa John said. "Have you ever had room service before, Charlie?"
"Uh-uh," I said. "What is it?"
"We order food from the kitchen and they bring it to us, and we eat it here," he told me. "We can eat laying in bed, watching tv, it's pretty decadent." He smiled.
"Uh- does that mean I'm staying with you?" I asked, and then I realized how rude that sounded, and tears filled my eyes.
Daddy was over at the counter, going through a duffle. I saw him fiddling with the gun again.
"Charlie, it's all right," Uncle Sam said. "We won't be gone long."
"Sorry, kiddo," Grandpa John said apologetically. "I know I'm not your first choice. Maybe we can find a movie that you like, huh?"
"She loves the Harry Potter series," Uncle Sam said.
"Great, I'll see if I can find one of them."
"All right, we ready?" Daddy turned and came over to me. He bent down and hugged me. "Be good," he said firmly.
"I will," I said, trying not to cry.
Daddy tapped under my chin. "Be brave, kiddo," he said. "You can do it. We'll be back."
I hugged him again. "Daddy-" I said, the tears spilling over.
"Come on, Charlie, I already hugged you," he said. "Let go."
"Come here," Uncle Sam said. I turned to him, and he picked me up and hugged me tightly. "It's okay," he said softly. "We'll be fine, and so will you. Grandpa John understands that you're a little uncomfortable."
He set me down on the floor, and they left, with Uncle Bobby bringing up the rear.
Grandpa John picked up a plastic folder. "You hungry? Let's see what they have to eat."
I sniffled and wiped my face off. "Okay," I said. We walked over to the sofa and I sat down next to him.
"Do you want to get a pizza?" he asked.
The thought of eating pizza made my stomach flip, since I had thrown up pizza two times recently. "Uh, no thanks." I said.
We decided on hamburgers and french fries.
"Don't tell Uncle Sam I'm not making you eat any vegetables," he said, grinning at me so that his dimples showed. "I know he's a stickler for that."
He turned on the t.v., and started flipping through the channels.
"Wait, go back," I said. "I like that cooking show."
It was the one I watched with my mom.
"You want to watch that?" he asked.
I told him about the show and the people on it and how it worked. He put his arm on the back of the sofa and I moved in closer to him.
There was a loud knock on the door and I jerked, startled.
"It's probably our dinner," he said. He got up, and walked over to the door. He talked with someone for a moment, and then came back over holding a big tray with a two silver domes on it. He set the tray on the coffee table, and took the domes off. The plates were fancy and the burgers were large.
He handed me a tall cup. "I got you a chocolate milk shake," he said. "Hope you like them. I remember you saying you like chocolate."
"Yeah, I do," I said, smiling at him. "Thanks."
We ate and watched the cooking show, and then after it was over, I picked up the remote and started flipping through the channels.
"Oh, look, one of the Harry Potters," I said. We watched it together for a while, and then I remembered which one it was, and why I had only watched it once, because Dobby died.
I burst into tears, curling in on myself.
"Come here," Grandpa John said gently. He lifted me onto his lap and I leaned against him. He put his arms around me and let me cry. He was wearing a flannel shirt just like Daddy and Uncle Sam wore. I turned my face into the softness and noticed again that he smelled like camp fire smoke. It was comforting somehow, and I slid my arms around him.
"It's hard when you lose someone," Grandpa John said quietly. "I lost Mary when your Dad was 4 years old, and I still miss her every day."
I looked up at him. His face looked sad.
"Daddy was 4?" I asked.
"Yeah, and Sammy was just a baby. It was a hard time for all of us."
"Uncle Sam never even got to know his mommy," I said, and that made me sad, and I started to cry harder.
"Shh," he murmured, rubbing my back. "Charlie, can I ask you about when you used to...see Mary?"
"Okay,"I sniffled and tried to stop crying.
"When would you see her? What do you think made it happen?"
"I was having lotsa bad dreams," I said. "I didn't want to go to sleep at night sometimes 'cause I was scared of them."
"Do you remember what the dreams were about?" he asked.
"Uh, not really," I said. "Oh, there was one, it was really scary...there were people with lotsa diff'rent color eyes."
He stopped rubbing my back. "What colors? Do you remember?"
"Umm... they were black, like their eyes were empty. It was really creepy. And there was one, this one guy, he had yellow."
I felt Grandpa John tense up. "Do you remember anything about him?" His voice was calm, but it seemed like he was trying to make it calm.
"No, but...that dream scared me so bad I wet the bed." I ducked my head, embarrassed.
"That's okay, it happens," he said. "Anything else?"
"Well, I would wake up in the middle of the night and be so scared that I couldn't even call out for Mommy," I told him. "But then I would feel it get cold in the room, and when I opened my eyes Mary was there by my bed. And she would smile at me, and it made me feel like there was a warm blanket over me." I cleared my throat. "And she would tell me that I was safe and it would be okay, and that she was watching over me."
"That's amazing," he murmured. "Did it help you?"
"Yeah," I said. "I don't think she told me her name, but I just knew it. Like when I know about people, you know?"
He chuckled. "No, I don't know. I can't even begin to understand. I'm glad she was there for you and able to help you."
"Me too," I said. He hugged me tightly for a moment.
"Thank you for telling me about it," he said.
I hugged him back. "You're welcome."
"You're a special little girl, Charlie," he said. Then his phone rang.
"Hey," he said. "We ate, and we're watching t.v. How's it going? Really? I know it's frustrating, it'll get caught eventually. He is? That sounds good. All right. Oh, you want to talk to her?"
He handed me the phone.
"Hi, Charlie," Daddy said.
"When are you coming back?" I asked him.
"We'll be leaving shortly. Are you being good?"
"Yeah," I said. "Grandpa John got me a chocolate shake."
"That was nice of him. I want you to get into your pajamas, and go to bed at 8."
"Okay, Daddy." I agreed. "Will you be back by then?"
"Should be, but if not, I'll come tuck you in when we get back. All right?"
"Yeah." I handed the phone back to Grandpa John.
"I'll see you soon. Yeah, bye." he hung up. "I'm going to get this cleaned up." he said, and he put all of the dishes back on the tray, and then stood up. He walked over to the door.
"Where are you going?" I asked worriedly.
"I'm leaving the tray outside on the floor, that's what you do in hotels," he told me.
"It is?"
"Yep." he opened the door and stepped outside, and I felt myself get tense. I sighed with relief when he came back into the room.
"Why don't you get your pajamas on now," he said.
"Okay." I stood up and went into the bedroom, then came back to the door. "Uh, I can't reach my suitcase." I said. He came into the room, and unzipped it and opened the top. The bureaus were a little tall, and I couldn't see into my suitcase.
"What are we looking for?" he asked me. He pulled something out. "This?"
It was my pink Hello Kitty nightgown. It was a little too small for me, and short, but I didn't mind it.
"Yeah, that's okay." I said, taking it from him. "Thanks."
"You need help?" he asked.
"No, I can do it myself," I told him. He left the room, and after I got changed I came back out to the other room and sat back down on the sofa. We found another cooking show and watched it together until we heard the locks on the door clicking. Uncle Bobby and Uncle Sam followed Daddy in.
I ran over to them as they came in, and threw my arms around Daddy. He gave me a loose hug, and let me go. He seemed distracted.
"Get your teeth brushed, and let's get you to bed." he said.
"I want to sit with you," I complained.
"Charlie, it's after 8. I want you to go to bed. I need to talk with everyone about what's going on."
I let him go. "O-kaaay," I said, and I trudged into the bedroom again.
"Uncle Sam, I need my toothbrush," I called.
"It's in the little black bag on the dresser," he called back to me. I walked over to the dresser and found it- it was a small rectangular canvas bag about the size of a shoebox. The dresser was too tall for me to look into the bag, so I took the bag off and walked over the the bed with it. I put it down and unzipped it. It was Uncle Sam's toiletries bag- there was an electric razor, his toothbrush, a comb, a hairbrush, a bottle of aftershave, deoderant- I couldn't find my toothbrush at all. I tried to move stuff around in the bag and then saw the glint of my sparkly purple toothbrush at the very bottom.
I picked up the bag and turned it upside down, holding it open and shaking it so that everything would come out. Everything fell onto the bed with a clatter, and I started to sort through it all. I saw the tube of my toothpaste, and picked up what was on top of it, to move it- it was a short knife in a leather case, with a brown and white handle.
"CHARLOTTE ANNE WINCHESTER, DROP IT!" Daddy bellowed, rushing over to me. He yanked the knife out of my hands and then sat down on the bed and yanked me down over his lap. He began to spank me, the swats falling hard and fast, and I couldn't breathe for a second because it took me by surprise, and it hurt so bad. I tried to pull away from him, and when that didn't work, I twisted my body and tried to push up in his lap which I realized was a mistake, because my nightgown got twisted up and moved above my waist.
"Daaaddyyyyy!" I wailed. "I wasn't playing with iiiiiitt!" I burst into tears, still struggling.
"What did I tell you, Charlotte Anne?" he yelled. "What! Did! I! Tell! You!" After each word he laid down a hard swat on my panty-clad bottom, which hurt worse than I could ever have imagined.
I wailed wordlessly and then tried to talk. "Duh-daddy I was tryin' to guh-get my tuh-toothbrush out! I- I couldn't fuh-find it! Pleeeeease!" I howled.
His hand kept falling and I kicked my feet, and then I heard Uncle Sam say, "Dean, stop! I forgot that I had that knife in my bag!"
"I came in here and she was holding it!" Daddy snapped.
"But look, she dumped everything out, and her toothbrush is at the very bottom, underneath everything."
Daddy stood me in front of him and held me by my upper arms. His face was red and angry.
"Is that what happened? Or are you lying to cover up the fact that you were fooling with the knife?" he asked harshly, shaking me once.
"I-I wuh-was guh-gettin' my st- stuff, honest!" My chest was hitching so much I could barely get the words out. I was afraid he was going to start spanking me again.
"Dean! Stand down!" Grandpa John said in a rough voice. He was standing at the door. "Take a walk and get ahold of yourself!"
Daddy glared at him, and then let me go. He stood up and walked around me, walked past Grandpa John, and then I heard the door beep and then click.
I turned. "D-daddy-" I sobbed, taking a couple of steps towards the door. Uncle Sam leaned down and gathered me up in his arms.
"I'm so sorry, honey," he said gently. "This is all my fault, I forgot about that knife. I'm sorry, baby." He rubbed my back, and I wrapped my arms around him and buried my face in his flannel, starting to cry all over again.
Grandpa John came over to us. "Jesus, Sam! Did you forget all about weapons safety protocol?" he snapped.
"Dad, it was a mistake! Like I said, I totally forgot it was in there!" Uncle Sam said.
I felt a hand on my back. "You gonna be okay, darlin'?" Grandpa John asked me gently.
"Wh- where's D-daddy?" I asked, my chest still hitching.
"I'll go look for him. He needs a good talking-to anyway." Grandpa John in a stern voice. He turned and walked out of the room.
"Do- does Daddy hate me?" I asked Uncle Sam.
"No, he doesn't hate you, why would you think that?" Uncle Sam looked at me.
"He- he was so muh-mad," I sobbed. "I'm a b-bad girl."
"No, you're not," Uncle Sam rubbed my back some more. "He was angry because he was scared you were going to hurt yourself. He doesn't hate you, I promise. And you're not bad, all right?"
I couldn't stop crying, no matter how I tried. Tears just kept falling and falling. My chest kept hitching and then I would hiccup. Once I heard a loud sound in the hallway, of a door slamming, and I jumped in Uncle Sam's arms, and started to whimper and then sob again. He held me in his arms and paced the room, rubbing my back and the back of my head, and stopping to grab a tissue so I could wipe my face or blow my nose. Daddy didn't come back, and neither did Grandpa John.
I heard Uncle Bobby's voice. "She awake?"
Uncle Sam shifted me in his arms and I looked up at him.
"Yeah, she is," he told Uncle Bobby.
"I got a text from John. He and Dean are having a... talk, over a couple of beers."
"Great...just great." Uncle Sam sighed. "In the meantime, Charlie's over here, still upset. Can you let them know?"
"Will do."
Uncle Sam walked over to my side of the room and tried to put me on the bed.
"You should try to go to sleep now."
I clung to him like a monkey. "Nooo," I whined. "Pleeeease."
He shifted me again, and his arm pressed against my bottom for a moment, and I winced. He looked down at me, raising his eyebrows.
"Charlie, I want to just take a peek-" he murmured, and I felt him move the hem of my nightgown up, and then pull the waistband of my underpants down slightly in the back. He made a little noise in the back of his throat, and adjusted my panties.
"Is your bottom still sore?" he asked. His mouth was a tight line.
I buried my face in his shoulder, embarrassed. "Yeah," I whispered.
He carried me out to the living room area. "Bobby, can you get the kid's ibuprofen? It should be in the little med kit, in the duffle with the supplies. And get her some water?"
"Sure," Uncle Bobby said. In a couple of minutes, he was standing in front of us, handing me the little plastic medicine cup. I drank the liquid and gave him the cup back, and then he handed me a plastic cup of water. I drank some of it as Uncle Sam walked us back to the bedroom.
He sat down on the bed, propped up against the headboard, and I laid on his chest, with my arms around his neck. He moved me so that I was fully on my tummy and there was no pressure on my sore bottom, and he held me with his arm around my waist.
"Close your eyes, honey, it's late." Uncle Sam told me quietly.
I could hear the muffled sounds of the t.v. from the other room, and between that and Uncle Sam stroking my hair, I started to doze.
I jumped awake with a startle when I heard the beeping of the door and the click of the locks. I sat up a little, and so did Uncle Sam, blinking sleepily.
Daddy and Grandpa John came to the door of the bedroom and stood there for a moment. Then Daddy came over to me in a hurry. Uncle Sam sat up all the way and put me on his lap.
"Oh, Charlie, I'm so, so sorry-" Daddy said, his voice full of regret. He reached for me, but I wrapped my arms around Uncle Sam and burst into tears again, burying my face in his flannel collar. Uncle Sam put his arm around me.
"I think you need to back off tonight until you get your head on straight," Uncle Sam said, and his voice was low and hard. It gave me the shivers.
"Yeah, I've already been reamed by Dad, okay?" Daddy said bitterly.
I felt his hand on my arm, and then Uncle Sam pulled me away.
"No, Dean," he said in a stern voice. "I mean it. Sit down and look at how you've been acting, and get your shit together, man. Her bottom was bright red. You were way outta line tonight. In fact, you've been outta line all fucking day." Hearing Uncle Sam talk like that to Daddy, and say the Eff-word like that, gave me goosebumps, and I knew that Uncle Sam must be really angry with Daddy to say that, because he rarely cussed. It was scary when Uncle Sam yelled because his voice was so big, but I realized that it was even scarier when his voice was quiet like it was now.
"Sam-" Daddy said, and his voice broke.
"Come on, Dean," Grandpa John said. "Come sleep in the other room. You've got some more thinking to do."
Daddy sighed, but it wasn't angry sounding, it sounded sad. I heard their footsteps leave the room.
Uncle Sam laid back down on the bed. He kept his arm around me and I nestled my face against his neck, laying halfway on top of his torso on my tummy. It took me a long time, but I managed to fall back to sleep.
I dreamed that I went into the house that Daddy and Uncle Sam had been in, where the witch was. There was a blonde lady and Mommy and Aunt Michelle sitting in the living room, having tea. Mommy looked at me and said, "I made a mistake, your father is an unsuitable guardian for you. You have to bring me back, so I can care for you."
"What does that mean?" I asked.
"He's not equipped to be a father, he's a hunter and that's all he'll ever be. I'm the one who should be caring for you. Find a spell to bring me back."
"But how?
The blond lady said, "You need to find a book called a grimmer. That's a special spell book that witches have. And all the supplies you need to do the spell should be in the back of that black car."
"But what if I can't find one? What do I do?"
"Keep looking, you will find one. You can find what you need if you look hard enough."
"But Mommy, what if I can't?"
"You can do it, you're smart, you'll figure it out."
When I woke up there were tears on my face. I loved Daddy and Uncle Sam, but I still missed my Mommy a lot. And everything that had happened yesterday with Daddy had made me feel hurt and confused. When I thought about how he had spanked me, I felt especially hurt. My feelings felt all jumbled up in my tummy.
I looked over and saw that I was alone in the bedroom. I could hear voices talking in the other room. I got up and walked over to the door- it was open a couple of inches, and I stood and listened.
Grandpa John was saying, "- noticed that a lot of her responses are similar to PTSD responses. She startles every time someone knocks on the door, when people come in she tenses up. She's fearful and cautious outside. Is she still having nightmares?"
"Not for a couple of days." Daddy said.
"She got scared when a woman in a suit walked by, thought it was her Aunt." Uncle Sam commented.
"This poor kid, she's been through so much in the past few days, and I didn't really understand what she had been through with her mother until recently. Charlie is one amazingly resilient little girl, Dean. I'd be really surprised if she didn't start falling apart and throwing tantrums and the like. I'd say she's almost earned the right to throw a couple," Grandpa John said.
"Well, she throw tantrums when we draw lines," Uncle Sam replied. "She had no rules, no boundaries and no consequences, and nobody calling her on any lies or anything. She needs a firm hand right now. You said to me once that rules make kids feel safe, didn't you?"
"You're right, I did."
"She hasn't grown up with that, she's had a whole lot of unsafe, from a pushover mother who was permissive to start with, and who then couldn't make or enforce any rules after she got sick. Imagine how she felt, not having any rules to push against. No wonder she throws such a fit with us- she's testing those boundaries to see if they're going to topple, and testing to see if we'll keep caring about her."
"I agree with you for the most part," Grandpa John said, "But I also see that some of her behavior is indicating that she's not able to hold on like she used to, that there are cracks appearing in the foundation. Just keep that in mind when you deal with her."
"We'll have to figure out what is a response to what she's been through and what is her pushing the boundaries." Uncle Sam said.
"That should be pretty easy actually," Grandpa John said. "We just need to look at how she's acting and not respond with anger first. Dean."
I heard Daddy sigh. "I know, I know!" he said defensively. "I'm not the only Winchester in this room who's guilty of 'spank first, ask questions later', ya know."
"All right, point taken," Grandpa John said with a chuckle. "Just try to be more aware of the fact that everything she's been through is impacting how she acts. And that she's having trauma responses to normal things."
"What can we do, Dad?" Daddy asked.
"I don't know anything about PTSD in kids. She may need therapy if it gets much worse. Let's look it up online and see if we can find anything that we can do to help. It breaks my heart to see her reacting the way she does." Grandpa John said.
I had no idea what they were talking about, or what 'PSDD' was or anything, and I didn't want to listen to them talking about rules for me anymore, 'cause rules are dumb and annoying. And I was hungry.
I opened the door, and walked out. Daddy and Uncle Sam were sitting at the table in the kitchen area and Grandpa John was leaning on the counter, holding a mug in his hand. I could smell coffee in the room. He saw me and said, "There she is!" and smiled at me.
Daddy and Uncle Sam turned their heads toward me and they both smiled too, except that Daddy's was sad.
"Charlie, I need to talk to you," Daddy said.
"I'm hungry," I said. "Can we go get that continel breakfast you talked about? What is that anyways?"
Uncle Sam chuckled. "Continental. It's a light breakfast, usually a buffet that hotels have so that they don't have to offer a full meal and pay chefs to cook for everyone." he explained.
"Thank you Mr. Dictionary," Daddy said sarcastically.
Uncle Sam looked at his watch. "They offer it until 11:00, I think. We'd better hurry so we get down there before they close up."
"Go get dressed, Charlie, and we can go," Daddy said.
"I was gonna," I said grumpily. "I'm not dumb ya know." I turned and went back into the bedroom and found where someone had put my suitcase on the bureau. It was kind of tall and I had to stand on my tiptoes, and I couldn't reach the zipper.
"Charlie," Daddy stood in the doorway. "Please don't start with the attitude."
"I need help, I can't get my into my suitcase." I said.
Daddy walked over to me and took the suitcase off of the bureau, and placed it on the bed. He leaned over and unzipped it, and then he looked at me.
"Are you not responding to me because you're mad at me?" he asked.
"I dunno," I said, because I didn't.
"Well, the first thing I want to tell you is I'm sorry. I'm sorry for how I treated you yesterday, and I'm sorry I spanked you last night."
Tears came to my eyes, and I looked down at my feet.
"I was in the wrong, okay? I understand if you're angry with me." He reached over and touched my cheek gently. "We can talk more later. I'll let you get dressed."
He turned and walked out of the room. I found an outfit and got dressed quickly, putting my sandals on.
I wasn't mad at Daddy. Well, maybe I was. But I was also sad and confused. I guess we'd figure everything out when we talked. I went back out to the living room, where they were standing up and getting their wallets and cell phones.
Daddy glanced at me, and I saw that his eyes still looked sad. I didn't like that, or thinking that he was sad because of me. I ran over to him and threw my arms around his waist.
He bent down and picked me up, holding me tightly.
"That's my girl," he whispered. "Thank you."
He carried me to the elevator, and put me down when we got inside.
I held his hand as we walked out to the restaurant. We went in and found a table near a window.
"You go ahead, and I'll wait here and hold the table," Grandpa John said, and he snagged a newspaper off of the table next to him and sat down.
There were a few people sitting at different tables, mostly grown-ups in business suits, reading newspapers or looking at laptops.
We walked over to the far wall where the tables of food were, and got in line. Daddy handed me a plate. Uncle Sam was looking over people and craning his neck to see that they had.
"It looks like they've got bagels, danish, toast, fruit, bacon, sausage, and I can't see what's in those containers."
"What are you in the mood for, Charlie?" Daddy asked.
"Everything," I said, and he and Uncle Sam laughed.
I put a bagel and strawberries and bacon and grapes on my plate. I was reaching to scoop some scrambled eggs out of a large rectangular metal tray, when a woman said, "Excuse me," and stepped between me and Uncle Sam. Daddy had already moved away from me and was getting some coffee at a table that was a few feet away.
I looked up at the woman and gasped- Aunt Michelle! She had on a blue business suit and the same hairstyle as when I met her at the memorial service.
I heard a loud clatter, and then someone was screaming, "NOOOOO!"
All of a sudden, I realized it was me that was screaming. I could feel warmth on my arms and legs, and I looked down. I had dropped my plate, and it was in pieces on the floor in front of me, and I had spilled warm scrambled eggs on myself.
"What the-" the woman said angrily. She was glaring down at me. I saw that I had spilled eggs on her skirt and shoes, too. It wasn't Aunt Michelle.
All of a sudden Daddy and Uncle Sam were there.
"Charlie, it's all right," Daddy said, squatting down in front of me. "Charlie!" he said, with a concerned look on his face, and he took my shoulder and turned me towards him.
"Charlie, talk to me!"
Tears were pouring down my face, and I opened my mouth to talk, but I screamed, "NOOOOO! HELP!"
Daddy picked me up and stood up, putting me on his hip. "Sam, I'm going back to the room," he said.
I heard Uncle Sam saying, "I'm so sorry, ma'am, can I pay for your dry cleaning?"
I buried my face in Daddy's shirt and cried. I was shaking, and I didn't know why.
"Sir?" I heard someone say. "Sir? Is the little girl all right?"
"She'll be fine, she had a bad experience recently and she gets upset sometimes," I heard Grandpa John explaining.
I felt us walking, and then I heard the chiming of the elevator door, and then more chimes, and the beep and click of the room door.
Daddy sat down on the sofa with me in his lap and held me. I cried and shook and coughed and cried and shook.
"Charlie, what are we going to do about this?" Daddy asked softly, rubbing the back of my head. His phone rang, and he moved me off of his lap so he could get it out of his pocket.
"-ean!" it was Uncle Bobby, and he was talking so loud that I could hear him. "-don't have...ood connec...woods..." he said.
"You're breaking up, Bobby-" Daddy said in a loud voice.
"I'm here at the site!" Uncle Bobby said loudly. "They got it! The rang...ot the creat...and you ain't gonna believe this!" His voice was suddenly clear.
"What? " Daddy said. "Did you say they got the creature?"
"YES!" Uncle Bobby shouted. "And y'all need to get over here!"
There was loud static for a moment. "-ey don't kno...at to do...it's her..."
"What?" Daddy asked loudly.
"Dean, get your butt over here, pronto! The locals are freaking out- it's her, Dean, the aunt! After they shot the creature, it changed! Into Charlie's aunt!"