"Should I be insulted?" Charlotte grunted as she was pressed against the police car next to Dean, one of the officers that came along reading their Miranda Rights. When the officer finished Charlotte asked, "If I got laid every time I heard that." And she saw Dean smirk at her little quip. God knows how many times either of them has been arrested and 'died'. Charlotte felt a cold, burning at her wrists and hissed in pain. She looked down behind her at her wrists to see simple handcuffs. Handcuffs burning the detainees? That's a first.
When Dean was cuffed she could hear him say to the officer, "Kinky." But nothing else, not a simple sound of pain and Charlotte felt like her whole body would burn.
Making their way to the station, she whispered to Dean "You have a plan?"
"Working on it." He muttered back.
"What do you mean you're working on it?!" She hissed, clearly pissed that Dean had no plan.
"Well you tell me when you get one." He murmured back "You seem to be able to disappear all the time anyway." Dean sulked
"We are not having this conversation." She whispered back
"Oh yeah? Why not? We've got all the time in the world." He spoke, showing his wrists up to the drivers in the front.
"Dean, I wouldn't have-"
"Don't bullshit me."
"Listen to me-"
"I'm serious, don't do it."
"Winchester, I swear to-"
"Hey, you two cut it out!" The Sheriff warned them, the Sheriff next to him hitting the chained wall that separated the front seats from the back seats. The rest of the ride, Charlotte and Dean glared at each other, the pain from her cuffs dying down that she actually felt stronger, more resistant. Was that weird?
Dean was pissed beyond definition. How dare she try to say she pretended to be dead for his own good and would have told him if he needed to know! He saw her body; he and Sam gave her a proper hunter's funeral. He couldn't imagine how Sammy felt when he saw her alive and kicking the other night. He had been absolutely heartbroken when he found out about that accident.
Charlotte looked over at Dean, a small sympathetic smile his way. Of course he'd feel betrayed in not knowing she was still hunting. She had left them pissed and never coming back. She remembered driving off on her Harley after Sam had left, pissed with Dean's lack of a reaction to his brother's abandonment and Charlotte was still definitely pissed at John, but she had to work with him, though Sammy's voice in the back of her mind kept telling her she wasn't working with John but for him. She remembered part of the accident: The collision, blacking out, waking up in a hospital room with only John, waiting for her, it seemed. He told her to look after the boys. A little space would be healthy for all of them but he wanted them supervised while he was off. Charlotte obeyed without questions and hasn't ever since. She had just wondered when she'd be able to see her beloved Winchester boys again, and she knew now was the right time. She did the right thing.
When they got to the station, Dean and Charlotte were put in different holding/interrogation cells, Charlotte's more official than Dean's. One of the officers, Officer Termaine as his nametag would have it. Termaine sat on the side of the table, facing Charlotte though he uncuffed her and she let out a sigh of relief she didn't know she had held in. Termaine gave a knowing smirk as if he knew anything about her then sighed, placing both hands on either knees, "So, here's the thing, you and your boyfriend-"
"Not my boyfriend."
"I don't care. You've both died on public record multiple times, you've been charged, again, multiple times, for corpse mutilations, armed assaults and the like. Do I even have to mention that you two were found in a room with pictures of the missing men dating back 30 years ago with satanic ritual signs all over the place." He explained what she already knew. Charlotte slouched in her chair as he explained. Charlotte knew this speech like the back of her hand.
"Cut the point, will you?" She asked with a tired sigh.
Termaine gave her a look that bordered a cross between murderous and lustful intent, which kind of creeped her out. What kind of fetish did this guy have? "You and this Dean Winchester are top suspects as to this point."
"You do realize this means I'd have to have been a serial killing fetus, right?" She asked sarcastically.
"Yeah, but we know about John Winchester, and he's an older fellow isn't he?" He replied back as sarcastically "We also know about Jimmy Cast, your father." Charlotte took a deep breath in and looked to the floor. This bastard was trying to push her buttons. Her father, Jimmy Cast, she'd never met and she'd been on that bastard's trail for a long time. He left her mom as soon as he found out Charlotte was on the way. Growing up, she always thought Jimmy had left because he was a drifter asshole. Later, when she met the Winchesters, she realized he left because he was a hunter, and a famous one at that. He killed basically anything fickle, no exceptions. From what she knew, John admired her father but she wanted him to go die. Her mother had become an alcoholic since he left so when…that happened, Eliza, Charlotte's mother was credited for getting her liquor to close to an open flame.
