Thank you so much Jenjoremy for beta'ing and sharing ideas with me. Thank you Gredelina1 for helping and supporting.
Chapter Fifteen
Charlie loved her life.
She had always made friends easily, but they were surface friends who were good for drinks and Moondoor battles, but that was about it. She couldn't have told them the real facts of her life: the loves, the losses and the fight that it had been at times just to make it through the days. She had been Cheery Charlie, always good for a laugh, a partner for Comic Con queues, and computer genius, but no one had known who she really was since she was twelve.
But that had all changed.
If a fairy godmother had come down and asked what she wanted in a friend, she would have told her she wanted someone who really understood her. If she'd been pushed, she would have asked that they also understood the references she made—the ones that made Sam and Dean look at her blankly—and maybe even understood what she'd lost and what it felt like to be a part of the real world of monsters and demons that few others knew about.
Her fairy godmother must have been a mind reader, as she got all that and more in Kevin. He was awesome. He got it. He had lost, he had survived, and he understood how it felt to get your arm broken by a Leviathan when you'd been roped into a fight you didn't want to be a part of as he'd once lost a finger to the King of Hell. Not only that, but they also liked a lot of the same things, like Playstation and tabletop games. They shared appreciation for Aziz Ansari and agreed he was seriously undervalued as an actor. She could not wait to get him to a Moondoor weekend. He was going to rock the armor, unless he was seduced by those damn elves of course. Sure, the elven girls were pretty, but what did they really have to offer the world?
He understood the real world, too. He was just as overwhelmed by everything that had happened in it—the things that normal people were unaware of. He wasn't down for hunting like she was, but that was probably because he was busy carrying the prophet load. She was sure he would be otherwise. Charlie was filling him in on the history of the Winchesters as told by Carver Edlund when she could get time with him without Sam and Dean listening, as you just had to mention the Supernatural books for Dean to start cursing and Sam to get that pinched face that made it look like he was getting a headache. He knew the important parts now, though; he knew they had saved the world. And she thought that helped him as it seemed to them that the world needed saving again from that Metatron asshole and Abaddon bitch.
She had Sam and Dean, too. She'd not been a lonely child, but what little girl didn't wish for a big brother to protect her from the jerks of the world sometimes? She had two now! And they would really do anything for her. They would do anything for any one of their little family, and that was what they were, as proven when Castiel went missing two weeks ago.
He'd gone into town for groceries, a simple enough task, one he'd successfully done before, but when an hour passed and he didn't return, they'd all been confused. Confusion had morphed into worry when Sam's and Dean's calls went unanswered. Sam, who had been lagging a little still while he was healing, seemed to surge with energy and vigor as the adrenaline hit. He and Dean had driven into town to check the store, leaving Charlie and Kevin at the bunker in case he came back.
Worry had skipped right into panic when they returned with the news that Castiel had been apparently frog-marched out of the store by a woman dressed like a corporate secretary. The description had clued them in that it had been an angel.
When Charlie had asked what an angel would want with Castiel, Dean's answer had chilled her: "Nothing good." It transpired that Castiel was on the run from pretty much every angel in existence since they had fallen. He was evidently a part of the reason the fall had happened in the first place. Sure, Charlie had read about badass Castiel in the books, but he'd seemed pretty mellow and awesome to her. Surely not a part of a plot to empty Heaven.
Dean and Charlie had set themselves up with laptops and gotten to work hacking road cameras for a sign of the SUV the clerk had seen the woman and Cas climbing into. They tracked it as far as the Oklahoma state line, but there they'd lost it. Things had been tough after that. Dean had side-eyed the liquor and Sam had sagged, his energy leaving him. Things hadn't gotten better until Castiel had called, having found freedom on his own.
When he had gotten back to the bunker, the heartfelt greetings from Sam and Dean's tempered anger and relief had shown Charlie that, just because the Winchesters were diametrically opposed to saying the L-word, they did truly care about Castiel.
So, yeah, Charlie had her family, and she loved her life. She just wished they could crack the angel problem already. She had spent so long in that library, trawling though books for something to help, and she couldn't help but fear it was pointless. If Castiel, who had actually been an angel, didn't know of a way to help find 'Ezekiel', how were the Men of Letters supposed to?
Sam slammed a book closed, making Charlie start. "Nothing," he said bitterly.
Charlie sighed. "It was unlikely you were going to find anything in…" She peered at the spine of his book. "Oh… An Encyclopedia of Enochian Rituals."
"Yeah," Sam said. "This is the most hopeful looking book I've found in weeks, and there's just nothing."
Charlie sighed. "Do you really need to kill him, Sam? Can't we just be satisfied that he's out of you, you're back, and he's probably floating around without a vessel like all the other angels Castiel told us about?"
Sam's expression became stony. "Yes. I need to kill him."
"Okay," she agreed. "Death to the angel. But I vote we take a break."
Sam nodded vaguely, already getting out of his seat and making for the bookshelves again.
Charlie sighed and stood. "I'll be right back."
Sam didn't even seem to hear her.
She marked the page of her book and then wandered out of the library to the kitchen where she found Dean and Castiel talking. Dean was leaning against the counter, his arms crossed over his chest and Castiel was standing tensely in front of him. They fell silent at her approach.
"Uh… coffee?" she said.
Dean moved away from the counter and waved at the pot. "Cas has it stocked."
"You want?"
"No, thank you," Castiel said mildly and Dean shook his head.
Charlie picked up two mugs from the drainer and filled them.
"Don't let me interrupt," she said in response to the tense silence of the room.
"Where is Kevin?" Castiel asked.
"Grocery run," she replied. And a video game store run, but that was between them. "What's going on in here?"
"We're having a discussion," Castiel said.
Dean huffed out a breath. "Yeah. Maybe you can weigh in on it. Cas thinks we need to take a break from the hunt for the angel that screwed us over and live it up a while."
"I agree," Charlie said quickly.
"Exactly!" Dean said triumphantly. "Charlie agrees with… What?"
"I think we all need a break," Charlie said, returning Castiel's smile.
Dean gaped at her.
"Dean," she said gently. "Sam is fried. Me and Kev take some downtime every now and then, but when was the last time you saw Sam reading a book that wasn't about angels, or watching TV, or even paying real attention to a conversation that wasn't about that angel?"
"See?" Castiel nodded. "Sam is obsessed, Dean. It's like he is hunting Lilith all over again, and, well, look how…."
Dean's expression darkened. "That ended? Was that what you're trying to say?"
Castiel looked back at him impassively. "Not just that. Look how it ended when I was opposing Raphael—the Leviathans were freed."
"I've not forgotten," Dean said.
"No. I don't imagine you have. And when I tried to reunify Heaven, it was emptied instead. These kinds of fights don't end well. I know what happened to Sam was terrible, but…"
"You don't know," Dean said harshly. "You don't know what happened to him when that angel was inside." He raked his fingers through his hair and blew out a deep breath as if he was trying to calm himself.
"What did happen to him?" Castiel asked.
Dean shook his head. "It's not my story to tell. It's Sam's. He'll tell you if he wants you to know. Trust me when I say it's enough to make sense for him to want to kill that angel though."
Charlie bit her lip. She didn't like that they were keeping secrets from Castiel, but she respected the fact Sam deserved his privacy. Dean obviously felt bad for confiding in her already.
"Be that as it may," Castiel said. "There is no harm in him taking a break for at least one day."
"Fine," Dean said. "If you can persuade him to stop for a day, I'll get on board. I'll do whatever it is you want to do. But we're staying in the bunker to do it. I'm not risking you getting grabbed by another angel."
Castiel smiled slightly. "Very well."
"I'll do my bit," Charlie said. "See if I can persuade him to take a proper break: rehabilitate rather than just caffeinate." She winked at Castiel and then picked up the mugs of coffee and carried them through to the library, Castiel and Dean following.
When she got there though, Sam was nowhere in sight. She set down their drinks and called his name, a hint of worry curling in her gut.
"Back here," a voice echoed back along the halls.
Dean strode ahead of them, and after exchanging a glance, Charlie and Castiel followed. Sam was standing in the doorway to the filing room that also housed the dungeon. There was a smudge of dust on his cheek and in his hand was a manila file.
"I found something," Sam said excitedly. "I was looking in the card catalogue, and I found reference to a file on location spells." He pushed back his hair with his free hand, his eyes bright and expression wired. "I thought it would just be demons, like the spell Bobby used to scry for Lilith, but since we're scraping the bottom of the barrel here, I thought I'd check, and there's something about angels, too!" He held up the file triumphantly.
"We can scry for an angel?" Dean asked, glancing at Castiel with a hint of accusation in his eyes.
"No," Castiel said. "That only works for a demon."
"Yeah, this one talks about grace," Sam said. "We've never used that before."
Castiel's eyes narrowed but he didn't speak.
Sam brushed past them and walked into the library again. He set the file down on the table and ran his finger down the page. "Okay, I need…" He turned to the bookshelves and scanned the titles, pulling out a book and flipping it open. "Here! Cas, it's Enochian. Can you read it?"
Castiel moved around the table and peered down at the book. "It says, 'And the departed shall remain, and the remains shall be the departed.'"
"Any idea what that means?" Dean asked.
"I believe it is referring to the grace that is left in a vessel following a possession." Three faces stared at him blankly and he explained, "When an angel possesses a human, it leaves behind a portion of grace upon leaving. It is how I was able to use Raphael's vessel to communicate with him when we trapped him, Dean."
Sam blanched. "Wait! Does that always happen?"
"Yes," Castiel replied, looking troubled.
"So there's still a part of Lucifer in me?" Sam asked, looking a bit horrified.
Charlie's gaze snapped from Sam to Castiel, as eager and yet concerned for the answer as Sam obviously was
"No," Castiel said reassuringly. "When I took your body from Hell, the taint was removed. It does, however, mean that there is a part of the angel that posed as Ezekiel in you."
Charlie expected Sam to look dismayed that the angel he hated so much was still a part of him, but instead he looked pleased, smug even.
"Uh… what…?" she started.
"This is good," Sam said. "We've just got to find a way to get the grace out of me and we will be able to track the bastard down. This is awesome!"
Dean turned to Castiel. "Any idea how we get it out though?"
Castiel looked uncomfortable. "No. I don't know how we would do that."
Charlie was surprised. She had a suspicion Castiel was lying. She couldn't understand why though, not until Sam snatched the book out of his hands and rifled through the pages, coming to a sudden stop with a wide grin. "I'm not sure," he said, "but I think this might help." He turned the book around and showed them a diagram of a large syringe with a wicked looking needle. "What do you think, Cas? Will this do it?"
"Possibly," Castiel said reluctantly. "Probably. Yes."
"Awesome," Sam said. "I think I know where it'll be, too."
He rushed out of the room and Charlie went after him. They passed through the living quarters and into a hall lined with doors labeled Storage Three, Laboratory, Clinic, among other things. Sam pushed open the door to the clinic and strode inside. Charlie glanced back and saw Castiel and Dean coming along behind them. Castiel looked wary, uncomfortable, and Dean uncertain. She guessed it was the idea of that brutal looking syringe that was worrying them. It was worrying her, too.
Sam was searching through a cupboard, muttering to himself. He seemed more alive with energy than he had been since before the witch and angel business started.
He pulled out a dusty box and set it down on a table beside the gurney in the center of the room. He flipped open the lid and lifted out the cast metal and glass syringe they had seen in the book. "Got it!"
It was even scarier looking in real life. The needle had to be at least four inches long, and it was thicker than any she'd ever seen. She supposed comfort hadn't been a watch word when the Men of Letters were in business.
What exactly to do we with it?" he asked.
"We use it to siphon the grace, obviously, but I'm not sure how." Sam looked past him at Castiel and asked. "Any ideas?"
Castiel shifted from foot to foot. "I… Uh…"
"Spit it out," Sam said, his tone light.
"Yes," Castiel said heavily "I know how it must work. But I… Don't do this, Sam."
Sam frowned. "Why not?"
"Because shoving a needle that long into your neck comes with inherent risks." He broke off quickly and bit his lip.
Dean looked at Castiel. "What's the real problem here, Cas? I know you're not squeamish, so why freak now? Sure, I don't want Sam impaling himself on Moby Dick's toothpick there, but if it's what it takes to get that angel, it's what we've got to do."
Castiel answered, staring into Sam's eyes. "I cannot see this ending well. The angel is stronger than you. Faster. Even without its wings, it has grace. You could be hurt, killed, and I will not be able to fix you!" His voice was strong as he finished.
Sam looked at him sympathetically. "Cas, it's not your job to fix us anymore. We're past that. Your job is to just be here, the same way it's ours."
"And if you die?" Castiel asked. "If that angel kills you? What do I do then while I am 'being here'? Because you will not be here, too!"
Sam smiled and shook his head. "Not going to happen, is it, Dean?"
"No, it's not," Dean said seriously. "Sam's right. You don't need to fix us. You just need stay."
"But if you can't," Sam said, "if you can't stay to watch this, none of us will judge you. But it's happening anyway."
Charlie saw the indecision in Castiel. She felt some of the same uncertainty. She didn't want to see Sam hurting, and a needle that size was going to hurt, but at the same time she wanted to be there for him, to help in whatever way she could to get him through this and to find the angel.
Castiel sighed heavily, defeated, and said, "I will stay. I will help how I can, but I wish you would not do this. Whatever he did to you cannot be worth you risking your life."
Sam's expression darkened. "The Cage, Castiel! He shoved me into a loop of thoughts and memories of the Cage. That is worth risking everything to avenge!"
Castiel sucked in a sharp breath. "Oh."
"Yeah," Sam said. "Oh. So, are you going to help or just watch?" He picked up the syringe again and held it out to Castiel. "I'm guessing you know where to stick it, so… want to do the honors?"
Castiel's hands dropped quickly to his sides. "No," he said, his voice stricken. "I cannot do that."
Dean sighed heavily, his tone one of forced easiness as he said, "I'll do it."
Charlie knew he didn't want to though. Who would? She certainly didn't, but when she saw the way Dean took the syringe from Sam, as if it was going to bite him, she realized she needed to. She was strong enough to do this for and to Sam, and she had the added bonus of knowing where the danger zones were to avoid.
"I'll do it," she said, taking it from Dean's open hands.
"You sure?" Dean asked, voice torn between relief and uncertainty.
"I'm sure," she said brightly. "I'm the only one here with anything resembling medical know-how after all." She patted the gurney. "Up you hop, Sam."
Sam smiled at her as he unbuttoned his shirt and shrugged it off, leaving himself in a thin undershirt. He lay down on the gurney and took a breath. "Okay, Doctor Bradbury, do your worst."
"Do your damn best," Dean corrected.
"Message received, boss," she said. "Cas, where am I aiming?"
Castiel touched a point just below Sam's right ear. "Just here. And be exceptionally careful. I advise you to go very slowly."
Charlie nodded and pressed the tip of the needle to the spot Castiel had indicated. "Ready, Sam?" she asked.
"Yes," he said confidently. "Go ahead."
Charlie broke the skin and drew a deep breath before slowly easing it in deeper to his neck. Sam sucked in a breath.
"Okay, you're okay," Dean said gently.
"Yeah. Fine," Sam said, though his voice clearly held his pain.
"That's right," Dean said. "You can do this."
Charlie glanced at Castiel and he nodded, "Deeper."
She bit her lip and pushed in another millimeter. She felt something then, warmth moving up the metal of the syringe onto her hand. "I think we're there," she said.
"Good," Sam groaned. "Go ahead."
"This is going to hurt, Sam," Castiel warned, and Dean scowled at him.
"It's fine. I can handle it."
Charlie eased back the plunger of the syringe incredibly slowly, gasping when the blue-white light appeared in the chamber.
Sam cried out, his hands clawing in the sheet beneath him. Dean grabbed one of Sam's hands and gripped it in a hold so tight their skin whitened. Sam's other hand flailed and slapped against Castiel's chest. He tangled his fingers in the cloth of Castiel's t-shirt. Castiel laid his hand over it and spoke in a hoarse voice. "It's okay, Sam."
Sam didn't reply this time. His eyes were squeezed shut and his teeth gritted.
Blinking away tears, and hating what she was doing, Charlie drew the plunger back further. Suddenly Sam bucked, his back arching away from the bed and his head straining away from the pain. The needle slipped out of his neck and his hands clawed in front of him.
"Sammy!" Dean said harshly, seeing as Charlie did the trails of blood working their way out of his nose and down the sides of his face.
"What's happening?" Dean asked Charlie.
"I don't know," she said. "It could just be the stress on his body. His blood pressure has to be sky rocketing."
"Or?" Castiel asked.
"I don't know," she snapped. She didn't have enough knowledge. She wished she had studied more. She was at a loss here.
"M'fine," Sam rasped. "Don't stop."
"Sammy," Dean said uncertainly.
"No," Sam said, his voice stronger now. His eyes opened and they were bloodshot. They fixed on Dean with determination though, and he said, "Don't stop. Not for anything. Promise me!"
"Sam, no!" Castiel said horrorstruck.
Sam didn't even glance at him. His kept his gaze fixed on his brother, waiting for the promise. Charlie thought she knew what was happening to Dean: he was torn between wanting to protect his brother and respecting his wishes.
"Okay," he said eventually. "We won't stop."
Sam nodded and reached for Dean again.
Dean took his hand and patted it. "Right here." He looked at Charlie. "Keep going, Charlie. Let's get it done."
Sickened, hating what she was doing, Charlie inserted the needle again and began to draw the grace up. Sam didn't even try to hide the pain this time. He howled out in agony and Charlie blinked tears out of her eyes.
"You're okay, you're okay," Dean chanted, his free hand laid on Sam's forehead.
Sam's howls became moans and he jerked slightly, as if being shocked with low voltage electricity, and Castiel added his reassurances to Dean's. Then Sam stopped. The moans cut off, the jerking stilled, and the hand holding Dean's loosened and flopped to his side when Dean released it.
"Stop, Charlie!" Dean ordered, and Charlie pulled the needle quickly from his neck. Sam didn't even flinch. He remained almost perfectly still on the gurney.
"Sammy?" Dean asked, his voice oddly young. "Wake up."
Charlie dropped the grace filled syringe onto the table and grabbed Sam's shoulders. "Sam!" Wake up!" she commanded.
Sam jostled but he did not respond.
""What's wrong with him?" Castiel asked her.
"I don't know," Charlie said, watching the blood work sluggishly out of Sam's nostrils.
"He should be waking up," Castiel said.
"Let's just give him a minute," Charlie said.
"Yeah," Dean said quietly. "That's all he needs, right, Sam?" He pushed his brother's hair back from his brow and said gently, speaking to Sam not them. "You have your minute."
So… Uh… Sorry? If you're mad at me for putting Sam through this, blame Jenjoremy. It was her idea to draw the grace.
Next update may be a little late as I am off to Sweden to visit Gredelia1! I'll post as soon as I can.
Until next time…
Clowns or Midgets xxx