I've found listening to The Lumineers, Now, Now, and Fleet Foxes really helps with writing this story. B)

Warnings: language, mentions of death/gore.

Breakfast consisted of eggs and toast that Charlotte had made for herself. She sat at a table and quietly ate while the grogginess of sleep still clung to her mind. Her head was propped up by the flat of her palm, and she slowly chewed through some toast. Last night had definitely taken a toll on her, and every bit of her body ached.

Sam had come out about an hour later, and looked thoroughly surprised to see her awake, "Hey Char. What're you doing up this early?"

"My brain just kinda… clicked awake," She sighed, rubbing at her eyes before finishing off the last of her breakfast. "I need to take a shower. I hope you saved some warm water?"

"Oh yeah, there's plenty," Sam laughed softly while scrubbing a towel through his long, tousled hair. "Dean's still asleep. So you better get in there quick. Oh… I wanted to ask you something… about last night…"

"Hm?"

"When you were describing about killing that witch… are you sure you're okay?"

She gave him a quizzical look, an eyebrow raised. "Uh, yeah… I am. I promise."

"Just… making sure," Sam smiled half-heartedly, and then sidestepped toward the kitchen.

Charlotte took care of her dishes and headed toward the shower. Today, she was planning on going back home. She felt guilty for staying with the Winchester's. They'd been nice enough to let her stay at their place and tag along on a hunt. Not only that, but Dean had brought her something to eat which was more than she could ask for.

After standing in the warmth of the shower for a good half hour, contemplating about how badly she should leave, Charlotte eventually dressed herself in some casual jeans and a large sweater. Much to her painful dismay, she'd run directly into Dean when she had stepped out of the bathroom, and planted face first into his chest.

"Fuck, sorry, sorry," Charlotte gasped out, clutching her face. "Ow, ow, ow…"

"I think I hurt you more than you hurt me," Dean chuckled as he slipped into the bathroom.

Charlotte shook her head and lightly punched his arm, "Shut up and get cleaned. You stink."

Once Dean had officially disappeared, Charlotte made her way back to where Sam was seated. He was typing away at his computer and diligently looking over some books as well. Charlotte plopped herself right beside him, and peered over his arm at what he was doing. From what she saw… it looked like he was researching another case.

"Vampires?"

"Mmm, yeah," Sam replied absent-mindedly.

Charlotte chewed her bottom lip. The urge to help out and join them was growing stronger by the minute. She had to refrain though, because she couldn't fall back into this life again, especially after… no, after what had happened, Charlotte needed the distraction. She was twenty-eight-years-old and had nothing to return to. What had been there… well, that had been ripped away a month ago.

"Can I help?" Charlotte asked timidly.

Sam peered over at her with an incredulous look, "You can't be serious?"

"What?" She asked in a defensive tone. "I… I don't exactly have anything else going for me. Please, Sam?"

"Dean's not gonna like this…"

Her face twisted up in frustration, "Yeah, I know… please? I'll even say I forced you to let me. I don't care. Please, Sam, I need this."

"Forced you into what?" Dean's rough voice sliced through the air. He was leaning against a wall, and his arms were folded over his chest, his head was tilted up as he gazed at them. Sam and Charlotte had snapped their attention in his direction. Charlotte could feel herself shrinking in her seat as another wave of guilt overcame her.

"I… I want to help on this case," She squeaked out, suddenly feeling much younger and tinier. Dean, for whatever reason, definitely had the 'dad effect' on her sometimes. It really pissed her off and weirded her out at the same time. Charlotte forced herself to sit up straighter, "I'm helping."

"No, you're not." He barked, his voice brooked no argument, but Charlotte wasn't going down without a fight. No matter how little he made her feel.

"I'm not a child, Dean. I know the ramifications of being a hunter." Her words became stronger the more she spoke, "I don't know if you remember, but I had been a hunter too."

He was leaning over her now, and had a hand pressed on the table in front of her. His face was dark, brooding, and his green eyes looked like violent storms.

"Dean… she's got a point," Sam broke in. "She's about as good as us."

"About as good," Dean retorted, his expression a grimace as he stared his younger brother down.

"I don't need you to protect me from this," Charlotte said, her voice gentler, but full of decisiveness."This is my final decision."

A little over a month ago, Charlotte had called up the Winchester's shivering, sopping wet and hopelessly lost. Not in the sense that she was actually lost, but mentally… Charlotte didn't know where she was. She had no one else to turn to, and the brothers had told her to call them whenever she needed help. Right then, she desperately needed their help.

A few hours later, they'd found her in the rain quietly crying in the palm of her hands. With soothing words and a warm jacket over her shoulders, they took her back to the bunker. Neither one of them had any idea what was going on, but Charlotte refused to give an ounce of detail. She wasn't ready to tell them anything.

After that incident, Charlotte refused to show that weakness again.

Now they were all sitting down and pouring over texts upon texts of different creatures. Apparently, what was initially thought to be vampires ended up being something else… but none of them were sure what that 'something else' was. Besides victims being drained of blood, there were other weird occurrences happening too. Such as limbs being ripped from the bodies, flesh and guts splattered everywhere. Something that could be considered 'out of the norm' for typical vampires.

"Maybe whatever it is…" Charlotte's voice trailed off, "what if it's working with vampires? Or maybe the vampires are getting really creative?"

Dean looked incredibly dubious, but Sam shrugged a shoulder, "Well, it's possible."

Charlotte pressed her forehead on the book she had been looking over. Her brain raced on what else would drain the blood of its victims. The bite marks were way too abnormal to be vampires, but still… her head was aching from an oncoming migraine. She'd forgotten how strenuous and annoying research could be. Especially when you had hardly any leads.

"Oh, hey," Sam piped up, his face illuminated by the laptop in front of him. "There's been another attack. It's about a day's drive from here."

"What're we waiting for? Let's go." Charlotte practically jumped to her feet. She needed to get out of this stuffy bunker before her head exploded.

They'd arrived at the police station early the next day with the sun inching just above the horizon. Charlotte had donned a uniform of fitted black slacks, a white button up and a pin striped tie at her throat. Her brown, shoulder-length locks were pulled back in a loose bun so only a fringe of hair covered her forehead. With an air of authority, she was the first one to walk in. Even though she stood a good foot shorter than Sam and Dean, the police officers focused entirely on her.

"We've been waitin' on you," One of the officers announced. "This is the third case this week. We were careful not to announce too much detail about the others, because we didn't want to cause panic among the public."

"Oh?" Charlotte raised an eyebrow, her hands rested on her hips. "And all of these cases were similar? Were there connections between the victims?"

"Very similar. Nearly identical," The officer, named McKinley, concluded with a heavy nod. "But no. Every victim has been different in one way or another… no connections other than…"

"Bodies being ripped apart and the blood drained?" Sam inquired with a frown.

"Yes, exactly. I'd suggest goin' to the coroner's office, if you haven't been there yet," McKinley glanced between the three of them. "Whoever is doin' this is a complete whack job and needs to be offed soon."

When they were all out by the Impala, after leaving the police department, Dean lightly rapped his knuckles on the hood of his car, "Three in a week? Sounds like whatever is killing these people are bein' really damn bold."

"Agreed." Sam nodded, his brows pushed together, "I have a feeling we aren't just dealing with a nest of rogue vampires, either. From the look of things… I feel like we've got something much worse on our hands."

"But what…?" Charlotte muttered as she clambered into the front seat. Sam had been nice enough to let her sit shotgun, and she wondered if maybe it had to do with him being worried about her; as if he didn't want to keep her out of his sight. She had told him that she was fine… so she didn't understand the need for his concern.

The coroner's office wasn't very far from the police station, but there was a sprinkle of rain, and no one wanted to walk in the poor weather. The overcast had rushed in quickly after the sun started to rise, blocking out the heated rays and leaving everything grey and dull. Charlotte pulled a coat snug around her shoulders and led them inside.

Someone greeted them almost instantaneously as if they'd been waiting for their arrival. "It's about damn time the FBI showed up. We've been on our toes, and on edge, all week. Practically waiting for another death. The police are in a scramble."

"I've noticed," Dean grumbled, offhandedly rolling his eyes as they followed the coroner down a series of hallways.

They were brought to a very clean, organised room with rows of large slots, against one wall, where bodies were placed inside. The entire room had a metallic sheen, the walls cream in color and the floors were plain white tiles speckled with grey flecks. There were a few tables lined neatly beside one another, and there was a body covered in a sheet laid on one of them.

However, the coroner wheeled over a huge bin, and waved his hand, "Well, this is the most recent body… I guess I shouldn't say body. More like, bits and pieces. Feel free to dig around." He seemed to laugh at his own words before leaving Sam, Dean and Charlotte to their business.

"Crap. I ain't touchin' that," Dean shuddered as Sam went over to the bin.

"Quit being such a baby, Dean," Sam sighed as he snapped on some gloves and popped the top off. His nose scrunched up at the stale smell and the god awful sight. The body was quite literally chunks and pieces, and the head hardly looked human anymore. Charlotte was hovering nearby, with her own gloves on, and reached down to grab a hunk.

"We better start searching around for something," She mumbled, frowning. The marks were all the same as the previous victims. There were long tears and rips, indicating that claws were used. Multiple bite wounds, and jagged lines on the neck, shoulders and face. Hardly any blood was apparent.

After some serious looking around and pushing through flesh and bone, Sam let out a quiet noise of discovery.

"I think you two better look at this," Sam held a small object between his thumb and index, holding it up under a large magnifying glass. He twirled the thing between his fingers, so that they could all get a good look.

"It's a tooth," Dean observed, "what the hell?"

"Another wendigo, you think?" Sam asked, peering between Charlotte and Dean.

"No… it doesn't make sense." Dean shook his head, and his arms were crossed over his chest while he thought. "They don't drain blood. Unless this one is doin' it for kicks."

They had hit a partial dead end, but at least this time they had some sort of advantage. Now they needed to figure what exactly this tooth belonged to.