Chapter two yay!
Here we go...
Disclaimer: The supernatural universe; brothers, angel, and impala included, are not mine. Charlie's mine! As are a few others you might not recognize, but for the most part, I thank Erik Kripke and the Supernatural people for their wonderful creation.
The Winchester's only started worrying about her appearance when she ended up saving their skin….especially when it happened again…and even more so when Cas' name came up.
"Sammy! Sam, where'd you go?!" Dean ran up the stairs, two to three steps at a time, frantically searching for his little brother. The third member of a ghost family had dragged him away when Dean's back had been turned fighting off the other two ghosts, and now Dean couldn't find the kid. He'd taken care of one ghost, the other one had got away, and the third had, obviously, taken his brother.
Dean started slamming through doors, pausing on a bedroom where Charlie stood, a sledgehammer on the floor by her feet and hands rummaging through the ruined wall. She froze at what she was doing.
Dean started making his way purposely towards her, and Charlie squeaked, putting her hands up in surrender.
"There's an old family scrapbook in this wall! It has locks of hair!" She screeched quickly.
Dean paused, legs spread, then narrowed his eyes. "Pull it out." He demanded.
She did so quickly, holding it up so Dean could see.
"Burn it." Dean demanded, patting his pocket for matches.
Charlie held up her own set of matches. "On it." She agreed solemnly.
Dean eyed her suspiciously. Her eyes widened, and she jumped up then rushed him. Dean braced himself for contact, but she crouched in the nick of time, sliding between his legs to swing her sledgehammer at the ghost who'd materialized right behind him.
Dean's eyes widened. "Thanks."
Charlie shrugged. "They were killed in the basement. If they'd run anywhere, it'd be there."
Dean nodded quickly, then ran out. Charlie grabbed the scrapbook and matches, and then after a moment's deliberation, her sledgehammer, following behind him quickly.
Dean got to the basement in time to save his brother, and the two fought together for a few moments before Charlie appeared in the doorway, the burning scrapbook in her hands.
The ghosts disappeared for the last time in wisps of smoke, and the brothers paused. Breathing heavily.
"Thanks." Dean said again.
Charlie beamed. "Hashtag you're welcome!"
And then she was gone.
Sam shot his brother a look. "Who was she?"
Dean shrugged. "Who knows?"
It was the same month when they ran into each other again. Or; as Sam would describe it; that she saved their skin…AGAIN.
"I can't believe you." Dean muttered angrily.
"Me? How is this my fault?!"
"Why didn't you just shoot him? He didn't even know you where there until you choked!"
Sam huffed. "You wanted me to shoot a sheriff in the back?"
Dean, despite the ire he felt, smirked. "You wouldn't have shot the deputy."
Sam rolled his eyes. "Really? This isn't the time; they're going to look us up and find out we're wanted by the FBI and then we're going to go to prison!"
Dean, slightly less angry, shrugged. "We've broken out before."
"Which doesn't mean we can do it again?"
"Hey." Dean spoke sharply. "They put us in an interrogation room together. That has to mean something, right?"
"Yeah, they're going to pick us off at the same time!" Sam hissed in response.
Dean rolled his eyes but didn't have a chance to retort because an officer entered at that moment. The two men straightened, probably vying for the picture of innocence.
The officer simply sent them a look, shook his head, and slid their wanted posters onto the table in front of them. Both Winchesters wilted, and Sam shot Dean a beautiful example of what Dean labeled "B**** face."
The officer looked at them for a moment longer before chuckling and leaving again.
Dean sighed and slumped.
"Well this sucks."
A detective stepped in an hour later. He was fifteen minutes into an attempted interrogation, (Dean was being entirely unhelpful,) a familiar face entered.
"Excuse me."
Sam and Dean shared a surprised look, and the detective didn't even bother to rise.
"I'm in the middle of an interrogation here," he spoke harshly, turning to glare angrily at the newcomer.
Charlie; dressed in a dark blue suit and wearing fake glasses, looked down her nose at the detective.
"Really?" She spoke frostily. "You're holding an interrogation with my clients," she stressed the word client and the detective paled but didn't rise, "without their representation present. Interesting." She scribbled something on a legal pad she held in her hand, and finally the detective rose.
"You're their lawyer?" He spoke slowly.
Charlie sniffed. "Dylan McCoy. Legal representation of the falsely accused Dean and Sam Winchester."
The detective went red-faced. "Falsely accused? Look lady-"
"MS. McCoy," Charlie pressed severely. "And I know of what I speak."
"They've got posters, ma'am. And I'm not blind yet, I can tell they're the same person." The detective grabbed for the wanted posters on the table, and when his back turned, Charlie sent the brothers a wink. Sam just looked confused, but Dean…he relaxed. She'd had their back a few times before this…who's to say this time would be any different? Though how she was going to get out of them was going to be…well…interesting.
Charlie barely glanced at the posters before sniffing. "These are old copies. How often does your department check the posters authenticity? Legislation states all departments should do so on the 1st of every month…which was nearly a week ago. Had you done so, you would not only be up to date on the REAL criminals, but you would also be aware that brothers Sam and Dean Winchester have been cleared of all charges and found to be framed by corrupt members of the police force. Are the most recent posters within your reach, or has your department just not followed orders? Shall I inform my superiors of this precincts numerous violations, or are you going to be very prompt with confirming the information I've just handed you, information you should've already been aware of, I might add, and releasing my clients with your apologies?"
The detective looked gobsmacked, and unable to say anything, he made his escape.
Charlie smirked at his departing back, then turned to the brothers.
"Sup."
"Who are you?"
Sam elbowed Dean harshly at his impolite inquiry, but Charlie just laughed. "I'm a friend of Cas'. I gave him some…" Charlie searched for the word, "friendly advice, once, and we help each other out every now and then. He said you'd been arrested."
Dean frowned. "We call him for assistance and he calls you? If you're really "friends" with Cas, how come we've never heard of you?"
Charlie snorted. "Cas doesn't tell you everything."
"And he tells YOU everything?" Sam asked.
Charlie shrugged. "I guess."
"You must mean a lot to him." He inferred.
Charlie smiled softly. "He means a lot to ME."
The detective entered the room again, face scarlet. "It appears you are correct, Ms. McCoy. My deepest apologies."
Charlie raised a brow, and the detective grimaced, but turned to the brothers nonetheless. "And apologies to you, as well."
Dean inclined his head regally, and the detective snarled. "You're free to go!" He hissed before storming out.
"Where are you going?" Sam asked quickly.
Charlie shot Sam an assessing look. "I don't know yet." She answered honestly.
Dean, who didn't really care either way, pursed his lips. "You're not running around alone, are you?"
Charlie shrugged. "I'm used to it." She winked at Sam. "Hashtag you're welcome."
"Thank you!" Sam smiled, but she was already out the door.
"What do you think of my associate?"
"You mean the chick running around by herself the whole time?" Dean asked, mouth full.
Cas nodded slowly.
"She's a menace." Dean answered honestly.
Sam rolled his eyes.
"What Dean means is that she's young. Too young, to be on her own. She's not alone, right?"
Cas frowned. "She does not often work in groups, if that's what you ask. Most of her assignments she does solo. It is to my knowledge that she has no family."
Sam frowned at that news. "It's too dangerous for her to be alone."
Cas nodded. "I agree."
Sam thought hard…. "Do you think…"
Cas knew where Sam was going, and he nodded quickly. "I think that would be a wonderful idea, not just for her, but also for…" Cas' gaze shot Dean's way, but Dean was too busy plowing his way through his food, and didn't notice.
Sam hid a smile. "I agree."
"Hey!" Dean pointed a finger at Cas. "How come you've never mentioned this chick before?"
Cas shrugged. "I don't know."
Dean's eyes narrowed. "I don't know about her."
Sam scoffed. "She's a kid; hunting…alone."
"And we're not babysitters." Dean retorted.
"So you say we just leave her on her own then?" Sam pressed.
"Why not?" Dean asked.
Sam stayed silent. Cas tilted his head.
Dean grumbled. "FINE. We run into her again, we'll keep an eye on her, take her with us. But only for like….a week. Alright?"
Sam and Cas smiled. "Of course." They agreed simultaneously.
Dean just grumbled again and took another bite of his burger.
"Hey. Dean."
"Mm mm"
"Dean."
"Mmmgufhen"
"Dean!"
"Uh! What?!"
"You awake?"
"Unfortunately."
"So get this…"
Dean groaned loudly.
Sam rolled his eyes. "C'mon Dean, we're almost there, don't you want to know what we're hunting?"
Dean frowned. "Yeah, okay, what is it?"
"I'm not exactly sure."
Dean glared at the side of Sam's head. "So what does it look like?"
Sam sent Dean a glare of his own. "What's up with you?"
Dean shrugged. He wasn't going to answer….but then he really, really wanted to. And Cas was urging him to share, or whatever, (which coming from Cas, was really freaking advice,) so he opened his mouth. "I've just been thinking about that kid."
Sam nodded in understanding, hands gripping the wheel of the impala comfortably. Sam LOVED driving the impala; and he rarely got to; so he enjoyed it whenever he could. Getting to drive the Impala and a heart to heart with his brother?! What a great day! "Cas' friend? The one we haven't seen in a while?"
"That's the one." Dean grumbled, slouching into the passenger seat. He let Sammy drive and now he had to share? Worst day ever. He let the silence linger, then sighed. "You think she's ok?"
"Worried?" Sam guessed.
Dean made a face…but didn't deny it. Sam nodded.
"Me too. But with the luck we've been having, we'll probably run into her eventually. We can kidnap her then." Sam added brightly.
"Way to make it creepy, dude." Dean sent his brother a slightly disgusted look, and Sam laughed. "You know what I meant."
"Yeah, we can ask her to join us for a while, whatever. Unless she's dead." Dean muttered, low enough so that Sam didn't hear him. "How much further anyway?" He spoke in a normal voice.
"It's just around the block." Sam turned on the turn signal as he spoke. "Shouldn't be too difficult, just sounds like a haunting, although it's in a new complex, which is a bit sketchy. My guess is,"
"Don't bother." Dean interrupted darkly, gaze intent out the window.
"What? Why?" Sam frowned.
Dean gestured out his window, and Sam followed his gaze, to the police cars that sat, lights still blinking, a crowd of scared looking civilians standing around in bunches.
"Well." Sam parked the impala. "This could either be a good thing or a bad thing."
Dean snorted. "With our luck, do you even have to ask?"
Sam and Dean both got out of the car, striding towards a young looking cop.
"I'm sorry you can't," The officer began, but Dean interrupted him. "Agents Guster and Spencer, FBI. What's going on here?"
The young officer straightened. FBI? That was legit. He turned on his professional voice, fixing his posture. "We're not exactly sure. The witness statements are all different, but our guess is breaking and entering turned hostage situation. We've got it taken care of though." The officer added with a grin. They didn't need no FBI.
Sam and Dean shared a look. "You caught the perp, then?" Sam asked.
"No." The officer admitted slowly. Then he brightened. "He's dead."
Sam and Dean shared another look. "How?"
"He got caught on fire. It was a bad one too. All that's left of him are ashes."
Sam and Dean shared another look. A hunter? Who?
"All the same, we'd like to speak to the witnesses." Dean spoke, eyeing the clumps of people standing around.
"Sure thing, why not? You should probably start with the sanest witness, said her name was Samantha. Didn't give us a last name, but she's over," The officer looked the crowd over. Dean spotted a figure walking quickly away from the scene. "That her?" He asked dryly.
The officer nodded, a worried look on his face. "Yeah, but she's not been cleared to leave yet."
Sam clapped the officer on the shoulder. "No worries, we'll take care of it."
Dean went around the back to corner her in case she ran, and Sam went for the direct approach.
"Hey!" He called out.
The figure turned around quickly. "Hey yourself!" She hollered back, and Sam, despite himself, grinned.
She began walking towards him, and Dean, seeing that she wasn't going to bolt, reversed and made his way back to Sam. It was too dark to see her that far, but Sam knew by her voice who it was. Apparently Dean did too.
"Is that who I think it is?" Dean muttered to Sam.
"Yup."
Their suspicions were confirmed when she got closer, and Cas' friend grinned up at them. "Well. Fancy seeing you here!"
Dean frowned. "We could say the same about you."
She just grinned. "Are you guys hungry?"
Sam beamed. "Starved!"
There was only one decent place in town to get a good pie, and that was Bertha's. Berthas was your run of the mill small town diner, complete with booth seats and bright colors. Dean, Sam, and their new friend shared a back booth.
It was quiet for a few minutes after they'd ordered, then Dean broke the silence.
"Samantha, huh?" Dean smirked.
Charlotte Dylan Eden Kirk shrugged. "Proof I was thinking of you guys." She winked. "But it's Dylan to you." She grinned.
"Dylan huh? So that's your real name then?" "Dylan", smiled.
"Sure."
Dean's eyes narrowed, but Sam just smiled harder. "You're the one that got rid of the ghostie, then?" He asked.
Dylan nodded slowly. "Hashtag you're welcome."
Dean snorted. "Was the ghost why you're in town? Or are you here for another reason? Besides driving us crazy?"
"I heard about the ghost, thought I'd stop in. Didn't know you two'd be making an appearance." Dylan relaxed in her seat.
"So you're a hunter?" Dean scoffed, looking at the small thing in front of him.
Dylan leveled a glare his direction. "In my spare time." Dean and Dylan glared at each other for a while before Sam coughed lightly.
"So what do you do when you're not hunting?" he asked.
Dylan relaxed. "This and that. I'm a free spirit, I suppose, no pun intended," Dylan grinned at her own joke, "I just go where I'm needed. Why?"
"It's not safe." Dean spoke gruffly. "For you to be out on your own."
"Why? Because I'm not capable of protecting myself? What, do you think I need someone around to protect me? Are you offering?" Dylan snapped, going from amiable ton enraged in less than a second.
"Actually yes." Dean snapped back, crossing his arms. Dean grimaced lightly, but didn't take back his words.
Dylan sat back in her chair, assessing both brothers interestedly. "You were all too eager to see the back of me before. Why the sudden change of heart now?"
"I thought you were just roaming around on a whim, that you'd be back in the bosom of your parents soon enough." Dean admitted.
Dylan snorted. "I don't have parents." Dean winced.
"Which I realized." He spoke crossly. "Which is why there's a sudden change of heart."
"So, you're offering to let me go with you guys?" Dylan clarified, a small smile on her lips.
Dean and Sam looked at each other. Sam shrugged, and Dean sighed. "That's what it looks like."
"Sweet." She nodded. "I accept."
Dean rolled his eyes and Sammy grinned.
"Which, thanks again for taking care of that ghost for us." Sam added with a grin.
Dylan grinned back. "Hashtag You're Welcome."
So Charlie is Dylan!
And Dean's a butthead and Sam's the peacekeeper!
Let's see how Dylan does as a Hunter, shall we?
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Love to all mah readers!
~CLC~