I was practicing being a spy. I had read through most of the Hardy Boys books, and all of the Encyclopedia Brown (boy detective) books, and I had learned about spying. There was one Hardy Boys book where they got involved with spying on a businessman, to find out if he was doing illegal things. And there were a couple of Encyclopedia Brown stories about him practicing being a spy, with some suggestions on how to do things like sneak around. I practiced tiptoe-ing through the house and I paid attention to which floorboards were creaky in different rooms and on the stairs. I had started to look through things in the house, like the drawers in the kitchen.

The men were all busy with a case, they had a big map spread out all the time and they would make me leave the room a lot so they could talk. I tried to sneak and listen in, but Uncle Sam had caught me eavesdropping and had given me a couple swats, with the promise of a spanking if I did it again. I thought I heard one of them say the word 'vampire' but I didn't want to ask, because that would be admitting that I had been listening in, and then that would mean a spanking for sure. But I also saw Daddy carving pieces of wood so that they were sharp on one end like a point.

Almost every night, Daddy got a call from Miss June and talked to her for a long time, or he went and met her for coffee. He said that she needed support and a listening ear, and that's what he was trying to be. Cole had hurt a couple of other kids and she had gotten kicked out of her kid's playgroup because of it. She was trying to find a doctor for Cole but was having trouble. She was upset a lot.

Because they were so busy with this case, we didn't go to the playground as much. They looked stuff up on the computers and talked to other hunters on the phone a lot and had conference calls. I couldn't be in the library when they did that either. Daddy had put all of the Legos in my room, so I could play with them there. I had started to build a house out of Legos for my Hello Kitty figurines, because I missed my dollhouse.

"Charlie, come down here," Daddy called up the stairs.

I went down to the kitchen. He and Uncle Sam were packing a duffle.

"We need to go, Charlie," Daddy told me. "We got a call from a hunter friend who needs our help."

"But- who's going to be here with me?" I asked.

"Grandpa John and Uncle Bobby will be here tonight. I expect you to behave for them, you hear me?"

"Yes, Daddy." I said. "Where are you going? Will you be gone a long time?"

He looked uncomfortable. "We should be back tomorrow or the next day at the latest. It will be fine."

"I don't want you to go!" I whined.

"This should be quick," Uncle Sam said. "Quick and easy." he smiled at me. "Don't worry, Charlie."

Grandpa John came into the kitchen as Uncle Sam was hugging me. He let me go, and then Daddy leaned down to hug and kiss me. I clung to him.

"Don't go!" I pleaded.

"Let go, Charlie, the sooner we leave and take care of this, the sooner we'll be back," Daddy said. I let go of him and stepped back, tears filling my eyes. Grandpa John put his hand on my shoulder as Daddy and Uncle Sam left.

"They'll be fine," Grandpa John said. He and Uncle Bobby took me out to eat that night, and then they let me stay up late watching the first Harry Potter movie. I woke up when Grandpa John was tucking me into bed.

The next morning, he got a call from Daddy, and he had to leave to help them. I know that he felt bad, and Uncle Bobby felt bad when I cried. I stayed in my room for a long time. Uncle Bobby was nice and all, but I could tell he wasn't used to having kids around, much less a girl. He took me out to the diner for dinner again, didn't make me eat all of my dinner, and let me get a chocolate milkshake and an ice cream sundae.

I was almost asleep when I heard voices downstairs, more than one. They were home! I jumped out of bed and ran down the stairs to the kitchen.

"You doin' okay, Sammy?" I heard Daddy ask.

I walked into the room- Uncle Sam was sitting at the table with his shirt off, and Daddy was sitting in front of him sewing up a cut on his arm!

"What happened?" I squeaked, scared of all the blood. There were bandages and first aid stuff all over the table.

Everyone looked at me. "Charlie," Daddy said uncomfortably. "Go back to bed."

"How did Uncle Sam get hurt?" I asked, walked over to them.

"Charlie, did you hear me?" Daddy said, and his voice was stern.

"Dean, she's scared," Uncle Sam said. "It's okay, honey, your dad's going to stitch me up and I'll be good as new," he smiled at me.

Daddy sighed, and turned to me. "Come here," he said. I went to him and he hugged me. He smelled like pine trees and smoke.

"Were you outside?" I asked him.

"For part of the time," he told me. He let me go, and then patted my bottom. "Go on back to bed now."

Grandpa John had come into the room. "What are you doing up, little one?" he asked.

"I heard your voices," I said.

"Let's get you back to bed," he said, holding out his hand. I took it and we walked back to my room.

"Have you ever gotten hurt before on a hunt?" I asked him as I got into bed.

"Well...yes, I have." He sat down on the edge of the bed.

"Has Daddy?"

"Yes."

"Hurt bad? Needed stitches like Uncle Sam?"

"Well...yes, Charlie, but I don't want that to scare you. It's part of the job, sometimes people get hurt."

"I don't like it! I don't want any of you to get hurt!" Tears filled my eyes.

"I know, darlin', but you just have to trust that we know what we're doing, and we all know how to take care of each other when we do get hurt. Lots of people have the risk of getting hurt on the job, they just don't talk about it or think about it." He smoothed my hair back from my face. "You need to go back to sleep."

"I don't want to!" I grumped.

"Lay down and I'll rub your back," he said. I laid down and rolled over, and he hummed softly as he rubbed my back. I tried not to worry, but I couldn't help it. What if Daddy got badly hurt on a hunt? What if Uncle Sam did? What if they both got hurt? What if they died? What would happen to me?

~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~

I had everything set up- circle drawn in the dirt, candles lit, herbs in the bowl- all I needed to add was my blood. I was too scared to cut myself, though, and no matter how much I tried to do it, I couldn't.

Because everyone had been so busy, they hadn't noticed me much. I had been able to sneak around and gather what I needed for doing this spell. I was going to bring my mommy back, and then she would take care of me. I had found some little candle stubs in a drawer in the dining room, a box of matches in the kitchen, and I had even been able to sneak into the trunk of Daddy's car for the herbs that were needed. I had drawn what the circle was supposed to look like on a piece of paper and written down the words to say, and brought that outside with me.

I looked down at my scabby knees. I could get blood from there—I picked at my right knee, gasping because it still hurt. The blood welled up and I put my finger on it-

and I was yanked up and backwards.

"What the- what in the holy hell, kid?" Uncle Bobby grabbed the back collar of my pajama top and pulled me up to a standing position. He stared down at everything.

"What in the name of blazes are you doin'?" he hollered. He leaned over and blew the candles out, then kicked through the side of the circle.

He grabbed my upper arm and started pulling me with him. "C'mon, kid," he said in a clipped voice.

"Oww, Uncle Bobby," I whined.

"Don't you 'ow' me, little girl," he said gruffly.

We walked into the kitchen and he pulled a chair out from the table and pushed me into it. "Sit your hindquarters down and don't move a muscle," he said.

He went to the foot of the stairs. "Hey Dean! Sam! John! Winchesters! Wake up and get the hell down here!"

They came downstairs, bleary eyed and yawning.

"We got a problem," Uncle Bobby said to them as they walked in.

Daddy looked from Bobby to me. "What's up?"

"I caught this one outside doin' some kind of spell," Uncle Bobby said.

He turned to me. "Stay right there," he said. He led them all outside, and they were back in a couple of minutes with the bowl, knife, candles, and paper.

They stood there looking at me silently, for a long moment. Uncle Sam had the bowl and he was looking through it. He crumbled one of the dried herbs and smelled it. Uncle Bobby went to a cabinet and got out a small bottle of water. He handed it to Daddy.

Daddy said "Christo." They were all watching me.

I looked at him. "Wh-what's that mean?"

Then he cupped his hand and poured a little bit of water in it, and then threw it at my face!

"Hey!" I said. "Why'd you do that!"

Uncle Bobby handed me a dish towel, and I wiped my face off.

"All right, kid, start talking," Daddy said in a hard voice.

"I was, uh, I was trying to do a, uh, a spell...for my mom," I said, shrinking down.

"What does that mean?" Daddy asked tightly.

"Uh, to, uh, bring her back."

"Wait, let me get this straight," Daddy said. "You were trying to perform a spell to bring your mother back from the dead? First off, why, and secondly, where did you get the supplies and everything?"

"Because you- you'd be better off without me here! You can't do your hunting like you used to! That's what your life is!"

"What? Where did you get all that? Have I ever said any of those things? And is that your decision to make? No!" he shook his head.

"Where did you get the supplies and the information on the spell?" Uncle Sam said in a hard voice. I looked up at him, he looked angry, but it was that quiet angry. Uh-oh.

"I, uh, got some plants from the back yard, and uh, there was a book I found in the library, and I got the candles from the dining room, and, uh, I, um, went in the trunk... of the car," I bowed my head.

"YOU WENT IN THE TRUNK OF THE CAR?" Daddy exploded.

"Where is the book?" Uncle Bobby asked. "Which one?"

"It's in my room," I said. "The, um, the black grimoire."

He and Grandpa John left the room and I heard their footsteps on the stairs.

Daddy paced back and forth, "I cannot believe this, little girl... What were you thinking?"

"Mommy said if I brought her back she'd take care of me!" I exclaimed. "She said I didn't belong here, and that she'd take care of me forever!" I started to cry.

"When did she say this, Charlie?" Uncle Sam asked.

"When I was sick, an' havin' all those dreams! She said that you two can go on with your lives and it- it wouldn't matter if you got married or anything, cause I'd be with her!"

Daddy squatted down in front of me. "Charlie, those dreams you were having were because you were sick. We told you that. Your dreams get weird when you have a fever."

"But- but I had the dream about Grandpa John getting cuts on his face, and he- he did!" I looked from Daddy to Uncle Sam. "What if me having dreams that come true is part of my powers? What if- the rest of what I dreamed is gonna come true, and you both- you both get married and there's no room for me? Then I'll be all alone!" I wailed, and started to cry harder.

Daddy leaned forward and hugged me, stroking my back and shushing me.

"You're not going to be alone, Charlie. We're not going to leave you or make you go away. When are you going to believe that?" he pulled back and looked at me. "This is because you miss your mom, isn't it?"

I nodded, and started to sob again. Daddy hugged me tightly.

We heard footsteps coming down the stairs, and Daddy let me go and handed me a paper towel so I could wipe my face and blow my nose. I looked up at Grandpa John and Uncle Bobby coming in. They both looked serious. I gulped, because I saw that Uncle Bobby had his grimoire, but he was also holding the little spellbook I had stolen.

"This one's mine, it's the book I was lookin' for recently, but I don't know about this, I ain't never seen it," Uncle Bobby said, holding up the small book.

"Charlotte? Where did this come from?" Daddy asked sternly. He took the book from Uncle Bobby and flipped through it.

" I, uh, when I went to that book store with Grandpa John, I found it and...I took it," I said, squirming uncomfortably. I knew that stealing was wrong, and I had taken the book anyway.

All four of them said, "What?" in angry voices.

"You stole a book?" Uncle Sam shook his head, and a muscle jumped in his jaw. "This is- I can't believe this!"

Daddy looked at them. He jerked his head to the side. "Let's go talk again," he said.

He pointed at me. "Stay there," he said tersely.

They left the room, and I could hear them talking in low voices. They were gone for several minutes, then they came back. All of them looked stern and frowny.

"I'm too upset to deal with this tonight," Daddy told me. "So we're going to talk about this and...deal with things in the morning."

I gulped. "Am I—am I in trouble?"

"Well, considering that you broke several rules, yes, you are," Daddy told me. "Come on," he beckoned to me. "You're sleeping in my bed."

"Why?"

"Because I feel like I can't trust you right now and I want to keep an eye on you." he said.

I got up and followed him upstairs to his room.

"Get in bed," he waved at his bed. I climbed in and looked at him, expecting him to tuck me in.

Instead he sat down in the armchair across from the bed.

"What—what do you mean, you can't trust me?" I asked.

"We'll talk about it in the morning," he said in a clipped voice. "Lay down and go to sleep."

"But Daddy...are you mad at me?" I asked hesitantly.

He looked at me, as if he was considering something. "I'm...angry, yes, and upset, and disappointed, and...hurt."

I felt surprised. I could understand angry and disappointed, but hurt? My eyes filled with tears. "I'm sorry, Daddy. I didn't mean to hurt you-"

"We'll talk in the morning. Lay down now," he interrupted me.

"Daddy-"

"No, Charlotte. Go to sleep."

I laid down, sniffling, and closed my eyes. I felt very upset, and my feelings were all jumbled up inside. I opened my eyes and looked over at Daddy. He was sitting in the armchair, his elbows on his knees, with his hands clasped together, and his head was down. I heard him sigh heavily. I rolled over and closed my eyes and tried to sleep.