Charlie Bradbury was an incredibly smart gal. She had apparently hacked the government one time, which was an amazing feat alone. She had also helped the brothers on several previous cases, especially against Dick Roman of the Leviathans.
When Charlie stepped into the computer room, her eyes opened so wide that I swear they almost popped out of her head. She walked right up to the metallic machine and placed a small hand on the device. "Sweet Ada Lovelace. This thing belongs in a museum! I mean, it's got encryption software. It seems to be powered by something.... magical."
She continued to ramble off about the software and different little attributes of the machine that she saw as she inspected it.
"English, please?" I asked, an awkward smile on my face as I leaned back against the wall by the entrance.
"It's a kind of alarm system," Charlie dumbed it down, looking over at me. "Global badness? It freaks. This computer is what locked this place down."
"Can we use it to track angels?" Sam asked, leaning down to peer into the opening that Dean had pried open earlier.
Charlie smiled, stretching out and cracking her knuckles. "Let me see what I can do."
With that, she dove down into the machine. Dean and I shared a look and I said, "I think I love her."
Within minutes, Charlie had created a system through cables and a tablet to download the computer's information onto. She explained how it would collect every single one of the Men of Letters files.
"It's a start," Sam said, "Thank you."
Charlie grinned in triumph, setting right back to work with the cables.
"So you've been hunting," Dean drawled out the loaded question, "alone?"
Charlie's grin fell when she noticed the intimidating look that Dean peered down at her.
"I know, I know. It's not a good idea, according to the Supernatural books," Charlie sighed.
"Excuse me, what books?" I practically guffawed in surprise.
"You haven't heard of the Supernatural books?" Charlie laughed. "A prophet accidentally made a whole ass published series about Sam and Dean's life."
My mouth dropped open and I laughed heartily. "You're kidding."
"It was Chuck," Sam explained. "You really can't delete those from the internet?"
"Not even I can do that," Charlie joined me in laughing, a smile brought back to her face.
"Where do you even find them?" Dean asked, his eyes squinting.
"I found them in a top-secret place I call..."
Both brothers leaned forward, eager to hear the answer.
"Amazon."
Sam and Dean's faces fell blank.
"Also, someone uploaded all the unpublished works. I thought it was fanfic at first, but it was clearly Edlund's work."
"Who uploaded it?" Sam asked, crossing his arms and leaning back.
"I don't know," Charlie shrugged. "Their screen name was BeckyWinchester176."
I could see the brothers both physically shift uncomfortably.
"Ring a bell?" Charlie asked innocently.
"None. Uh, nobody's. Uh, no, there are no bells. Uh... No," Sam stuttered and I laughed at him.
"I'm not going to forget about this," I said. It was obvious that there was clearly some history here.
"Ugh, these files are encrypted," Charlie groaned, her eyes trained on her tablet screen. "This is gonna take a while. So... Takeout, sleepover, braid each other's hair?"
"I'm down," I said, holding up a finger, "but only if I get to braid Sammy's hair."
Sam gave me an odd look as he towered over me. A smile perked up the corners of his lips as he said, "I think I have a better idea."
Sam's idea was to watch Game of Thrones in his room. He had pulled in a big bean bag so that there would be seats for everyone. Dean and Charlie sat on the bed together while Sa and I got comfy on the beanbag. I had no idea where they found the large, cushy seat. Apparently the bunker had everything that we could possibly ever need. Dean made sure that everyone constantly had a beer in his hands, placing a cooler full of ice and brews next to the bed.
Sam's room was incredibly empty and undecorated. Boxes were scattered around the room. It was obvious that despite the boys living here for a year already, Sam had not unpacked and settled into his room. Compared to Dean's room, his was stark and cluttered.
"Wow, that Joffrey's a dick," Dean said, his eyes trained on the screen at the foot of Sam's bed as he took a swig of his beer.
Charlie's face lit up at the mention of the asshole character. She excitedly said, "oh, you have no idea! Just wait until he-"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Sam shouted, interrupting the red head and we all turned our heads to look at him in question. "No spoilers, please. I haven't read the books yet."
"What? You read?" Dean scoffed, sending his brother an arched eyebrow and causing me to burst out in laughter.
Sam sighed before looking back up at Dean, his face void and his voice flat as he said, "Yes, Dean. I like to read books - you know, the ones without pictures."
"Nice one, Sammy. You really got him with that one," I scoffed, earning an annoyed glare from the older Winchester.
Charlie groaned as she adjusted her position on the bed, pushing herself up so that she was sitting up against the headboard. "Boy, there's a lot of boxes in here. You plan on moving in anytime soon, Sam?"
"I am moved in," Sam insisted, his eyes flicking to the unemptied boxes scattered throughout the room. His fingers played nervously with the label on his beer bottle as he said, "this is just my style."
Dean clicked his tongue, a tone of sheer distaste coming over his voice as he said, "Yeah, this is his, uh, style."
Sam glared up at Dean, who grinned down at him from the bed.
"Well, I'm sorry I haven't put up the hang in there kitty poster yet," Sam snapped, throwing his hands in the air in exasperation. "Feel free to redecorate."
"I might take you up on that," I said, Sam's eyes flicking over to meet mine. "I'm a nervous cleaner."
My comment was ignored as Dean countered, "Is our home not good enough for the stupid kitty poster?"
"This isn't our home," Sam stated, his lips pursed. "This is where we work."
"What's the difference?" Dean retorted, a look of agitation on his face.
"Oh my god," I groaned. "Would you two idiots shut up? You're bickering like toddlers when you're both in your thirties. It's not a good look."
That was quick to shut them up. Both brother's pursed their lips and trained their eyes on the ground, avoiding eye contact with me. Like I said, toddlers. Charlie and I shared a look.
"Uh, I'm gonna go get us some more beer," Dean said, pushing himself off the bed and shuffling out the door.
Sam scoffed at the man's retreating figure. "Always running away from conflict," he muttered quietly.
I rose to my feet and said something about helping Dean before following him down the hall. I caught up to him in the kitchen, finding him neck deep in the fridge. He heard my footsteps and barely glanced up at my arrival. "You want another beer?"
"Yes, please," I said and was handed a nice, cold bottle.
I had made a bad habit of opening my beer bottles with my teeth, but it was always a crowd pleaser. Or right now, a Dean pleaser. He practically had googly eyes as I spat the cap into the garbage can and lifted the beer up to my lips, leaning my back against the counter.
Dean closed the fridge before stalking towards me with dark and hungry eyes. He reached out and grabbed onto the counter on either side of me, caging me in. His breath felt warm on my neck as he murmured into my ear, "God, I missed having you around."
To my surprise, he backed away, three beers in hand as he headed back for Sammy's room.
"Dean," I called from the spot I had not moved from, still leaning against the counter. He looked over his shoulder back at me. "Is there something going on between you and Sam?"
Dean stopped in his tracks, turning and leaning against the doorframe of the kitchen. "Yeah. We just keep butting heads about every little thing. The fact that I'm keeping this huge secret about Ezekiel from him isn't helping."
I nodded, taking another sip of the light ale. "Listen, I don't know if I'm ever a topic of these arguments, but I'm going to be out of your guys' hair soon, I promise. Bobby has some abandoned cabins that I've been keeping an eye on and -"
"You're not leaving," Dean said flatly. "You're practically family at this point. I mean, we're all we really got. You really think I would let you go off on hunts alone?"
"It's not like I've never done it before," I pointed out. "I grew up hunting, just like you."
"Even so, I rarely ever go on hunts alone," Dean said. "It would worry me knowing that you were hunting alone out there."
I sighed. "No need to worry, I'll stick around for a while. Oh, do you have any needles around here?"
Dean quirked an eyebrow up at me. "For why?"
I pulled the neck of my shirt down to show him the half burnt anti-possession tattoo that had been causing us so much grief.
Dean nodded and said, "Sam has a tattoo gun, you should ask him for help on that one."
Almost as if he'd heard us, Sam's voice echoed down the hallway, "Dean, Romy, we're going back to check on the computer room."
"Coming!" I called out and headed to the door, Dean leading the way down the hallway.
When we entered the computer room, Charlie was already tapping away at her tablet, her mouth twisted as she focused on the screen. Sam stood next to her, watching her fingers dance around the screen.
A tickle danced down my spine as my eyes scanned the room. Something had changed.
I slowly walked over to one of the panels lining the walls. Peering between the openings, I could only see a thick layer of cobwebs, but I swore I saw something moving.
"Guys," I said, "move this shelf."
Dean crept up behind me and looked in. "What the hell?"
He and Sam pushed the machine forward so that we could see behind it. It revealed a giant cobwebbed mass coating the wall. It moved, causing us all to jump a bit.
"What the hell is that?" Dean wondered out loud.
"Do we... do we dare?" I asked, not wanting to take my eyes off of the thing that was stuck to the wall.
Dean only grunted in response as he whipped out his pocket knife. He glided the blade along the edge of the cobwebbed mess. A foul-smelling gray fog emanated from the cut and a hand - still connected to the arm - fell limply from the opening.
Charlie gasped, jumping back in surprise. I took my gun out from my waistline, clicking the safety off. Charlie shot me a questioning look and I just shrugged, "What if this thing is bloodthirsty?"
Dean further cut open the thick cobwebs until finally an entire limp body fell out. To my surprise, there was no decomposition or any sign of death at all, despite the fact that this body had definitely been stuck in that confinement for years, at least. It was a young woman, her dark red hair pulled back into a low bun. She wore old clothes that reminded me of the early 1900s. She had definitely been in there a while.
Dean pulled out his gun, cautiously reaching down to the woman and pushing her over so that she was lying prone on her back. Her eyes suddenly shot open, wide and afraid as she sucked in a deep breath of air.
She gasped for breath, pushing herself up by the palms of her hands behind her. Her eyes flicked back and forth between the four of us, looking peculiar at the sight of our clothing.
"We have to find her," she mumbled.
"Find who?" I asked, gently throwing my jacket over her shoulders in an effort to comfort her.
She looked to be around her thirties, pale skin with deep brown eyes. Her deep red hair contrasted against the brown tones of her suit. She hugged the warm jacket closer to her body as she said, "The witch."
"What witch?" Sam asked, kneeling down to be eye level with the woman. "What's your name?"
"Dorothy," she said. "She's the Wicked Witch from Oz. We have to stop her."
Sam looked up at Dean, who stood over us. Charlie was busy tapping away at her tablet.
"Dorothy, can you tell us more about the witch? We need to know more in order to stop her," Sam said.
Dorothy scoffed. "Typical Men of Letters, standing around, having a nice chat with your noses buried in your books while your little secretaries take notes."
I arched an eyebrow at her. "Pardon me, ma'am, but times have changed."
"We are definitely not secretaries," Charlie chimed in, splitting her attention away from the tablet for a moment.
"You tell her, girlfriend," I clapped and pointed at her.
She quickly looked down, and I swore I saw a light pink blush rising to her cheeks.
"Without us, these big ol' oafs wouldn't know their heads from their asses," I said. "We're hunters."
"You two are not secretaries?" Dorothy asked innocently, her eyes switching from Charlie to me. "You are Women of Letters?"
Charlie placed a confident hand on her hip and gave a triumphant nod, while smirking down at Dorothy.
I held up a finger. "Well, technically, I'm more in the training part, but -"
"Nope," Dean interrupted and I swiveled my head to look up at him. "You are definitely a Woman of Letters."
"How long have I been out?" Dorothy asked incredulously, still wide-eyed and clueless.
"That's why we need to talk," Sam said, his elbows resting on his knees.
"You've been out for seventy-five years," I explained, a solemn look on my face. "According to the files, you came here in search for a way to kill the Wicked Witch, but disappeared, as well as the Witch."
"What happened?" Sam added.
"We couldn't find a way to kill her, so I did the only thing that I could," Dorothy stated, "a binding spell that came with a price - her soul with mine."
"So you've just been trapped with the Witch for seventy-five years?" I asked, scoffing in disbelief. "Man, you must have wicked patience."
"Pun intended?" Charlie quipped.
Dorothy shook her head, shooting me a look. "Not the point. Look, the Witch cannot be killed," she rose to her feet, letting the blanket that was draping her shoulders fall to the floor. "If I am awake, then so is she."
"Wait, if she's here, why didn't she kill you?" Sam asked, brows furrowed as he stared on at Dorothy. His eyes flicked up and met mine for a moment, which I returned with an encouraging nod. He stood, reaching out a hand to me to help me up.
"She can't," Dorothy said. "I am-"
"-protected with the Witch of the North's kiss," Charlie said excitedly, but her bright face fell quickly at the sight of Dorothy's deadpanning face. "What? It's from the books."
Dorothy began to shuffle towards the door, a frown still decorated her features. "Oh forget the books. They're not important. I'm protected. You aren't. Now, the witch came for something. I have no idea what it is, but we have to find her before she finds it."
"All right, all right, Charlie, dig into the files. See if you can find anything that puts a dent on a witch," Dean ordered and Charlie nodded, quickly going back to tapping into her tablet. Dean turned to me, shooting his index finer at me. "Charlie, you stay with Dorothy. Sam and I will have a look-see."
The brothers began towards the door, but I stepped in their path, my arms crossed over my chest with a firm look on my face. "You forgot to add a very important person to that short list."
"Nope, you are staying here with Dorothy and Charlie," Dean ordered, using that gruff voice that made me want to get on my knees and do anything he wanted. "It's not because I don't think you can do this, it's so you can protect them, if anything."
Sam nodded in agreement. "You know more about this place then either of them."
"Fine," I grumbled, stepping out of the way and allowing them to brush past me.
"I'm coming," Dorothy called out as the two walked through the door frame.
Instead of saying, "fine," like Dorothy probably expected, Sam said over his shoulder, "Yeah, I don't doubt it. But for now, why don't you rest up and help the smartest girl in the room?"
Dorothy turned to face us as the brothers continued on down the hall, the door shutting behind them. Her eyes flickered between Charlie and I for a moment. "The smarted person in the room?" Her eyes came to a halt on me. "You?"
I scoffed, sending the old gal my iconic RBF. "Use your eyes. Charlie literally has a freaking entire network being created at her fingertips."
"Okay, okay, I get it," Dorothy muttered, turning to look at Charlie.
An awkward silence filled the air, Charlie mumbling short phrases to herself as she continued to lightly tap away on her tablet. Dorothy just stood there in the middle of the room with her arms crossed over her chest and a defiant look over her face. I leaned over the edge of the control center of the big machine, a small smirk splaying on my face. I had to admit, this was a very amusing situation.
Charlie broke the silence, looking over her shoulder at Dorothy as she said, "So... Big fan."
Dorothy shot Charlie a sarcastic tight-lipped smile, which disappeared almost immediately.
Charlie turned away from her tablet, leaning back against the wall to face Dorothy. A smile decorated her face as she said, "Ozma of Oz -"
Charlie's smile disappeared when Dorothy interrupted her, "- is a total ass."
Charlie's eyebrows furrowed, blinking in surprise before looking down. "You were much nicer in the books."
"I never read the books, were they good?" I asked curiously.
"Those books are the ravings of a sad, old man," Dorothy muttered, "my father."
"Your father wrote the books?" I asked, my brows pulled together as I looked over at Dorothy.
Charlie added, "Your dad was Frank L. Baum?"
"A Man of Letters," Dorothy specified with a nod of her head. "Another glorified librarian if you ask me."
"Hey, these guys may have been sexist, but like all librarians, they were wicked smart, too," Charlie quipped, narrowing her eyes at the older woman. "The Men of Letters who were here when you came in - Haggerty - he kept your case file open, worked it every day until he retired. Obviously, he never found you, but if you took five seconds to read, he did find a way to fight the wicked witch."
"Damn, girl," I muttered, sending a devious grin her way. "Come on, don't leave me hanging."
Charlie shifted her weight, moving to cross her arms over her chest. Her eyes were still locked on Dorothy as she asked, "Do you remember the poppy fields in the first book?"
"That's not actually how it happened," Dorothy deadpanned with an eye roll. "It was much bloodier."
"Stop ruining my childhood," Charlie exclaimed, throwing her hands up. "Do you remember the poppies or not?"
Dorothy nodded expectantly.
"Haggerty made a deal with a fairy and got some poppy extract," Charlie explained. "I'm gonna get some guns from the gun range and make us some poppy bullets."
After the words left Charlie's mouth, she brushed past Dorothy and grabbed my wrist, pulling me along with her as we headed for the door.
"You coming or what, Red?" I called over my shoulder.
I saw an actual smile form on the woman's face before she joined us, following closely on our heels as we headed into the hall.