#was there a real human Charlie Bradbury? maybe. not important. now there is only leviathan!charlie

[quietwingsinthesky]

thinking about leviathan!charlie again. the stynes corner her and she Fucking Eats Them

[nerdylittleshit]

Frodo Lives

Aka The Great Meta Scavenger Hunt Round 5

For this weeks challenge Lizzy gave us this:

Now no one bends reality like Supernatural, so as a point of professional pride, I think we should re-examine our own canon to find out where and when it is only a dream/extended metaphor/biased narrative told to us in secret first person from a particular character. Did Dean never come back from the season 2 djinn dream? Is Sam still in Mystery Spot? Or Hell? Is everything before 6x20 Cas’s take on events and he literally told us the whole story when he threatened to tell us a story? Find yourself a break from the normal narrative and tell me how an episode/story arc/season/entire chunk of the show was in fact a story within a story or a dream within a dream or an unreliable narrator unreliably narrating. (x)

Also known as “It was all just a dream”, my least favourite trope. Don’t get my wrong - glimpses into alternative realities or dream worlds can be great, hell 2x20 is one of my all time favourite episodes. But they need to work with the premise that the audience knows that what we see is not real. I absolutely hate it though if we get this twist at the end. Even more if the dream itself covered several episodes or worse the whole show. Unreliable narrators can be fun if it is done right, but most of the time this trope feels to me like lazy writing, and adding a twist just for the sake of it. Nevertheless I’m gonna present my own little theory of an unreliable narrator in Supernatural, though I have to admit this theory is probably not fool proved. Either way, here we go.

The title probably already told you what this is about - presenting a theory about Charlie and the potential that she might be still alive after all. I know to most of us she still is - the Supernatural fandom ignores Charlie’s death the same way the Harry Potter fandom ignored the Epilogue at the end of Deathly Hallows. Because that’s the thing about canon - we acknowledge it as long as it is not stupid.

Now Charlie’s death hurt like no other, and there are many reasons for it. She was a fan favourite, a stand in for the audience and postive representation of a fangirl, and the only recurring queer character on the show (or you know the only one out of the closet *cough*). And let’s just say killing a queer character by Nazi-esque character, her dead body left behind in the bathtub (the fridge probably wasn’t big enough) is about as sensitive as putting a collar on a woman of color. Just saying.

But we just simply ignore all our bitter feelings for a moment, and instead of the why, we look at the how. Because for whatever stupid reasons TPTB thought it was neccessary to kill Charlie (it wasn’t), the fact remains she died in what could be only described as a giant plot hole. Instead of giving her an heroic hunter death - the way Jo or Bobby or any other hunter on the show had - she died in a way that left many of us with disbelief.

There where plenty of ways Charlie could have escaped, plenty of ways she could have fight back - after all that girl had survived a war in Oz. And it is her stay in Oz that made many believe she did perhaps fake her own death, and that she gained the knowlege to do so while she was there. And even without magic this is Charlie we are talking about. Charlie, who was so brilliant, not even Dick Roman could make an Leviathan copy of her, as we learned in 7x20.

DICK ROMAN: You're kind of completing me right now, Charlie. You have that spark, that thing that makes humans so special. Not everyone has it, you know. Those people – they can be replaced. But people like you... are impossible to copy.

And in the same episode we also got this:

CHARLIE: This ain't the first time I've disappeared. You think my name is really Charlie Bradbury? Please.

This would confirm the theory Charlie faked her own death. But another of my least favourite tropes is when characters do exactly this - faking their own death. Say she did - why would she still be hiding by now? All the Stynes are dead, Dean is free from the Mark of Cain, there is no other threat for her. So we can rule out she did it herself - but it doesn’t mean nobody else did.

Yep, that’s right. Crowley. And I know now you are wondering why he would do it? What is his gain? Well, first of all in the world of Supernatural death often works as a plot device. Sam’s death at the end of season 2 led to Dean making a deal, which resulted in his death, which led to Sam starting to use his psychic powers. Or take Kevin’s death: it was the reason Dean took the Mark of Cain. Charlie’s death then led to Dean fully embracing his dark side and giving in to his desire to kill. It is lazy storywriting at his best, to think the only way to lead a character in a darker direction is through loss. And furthermore it degrades the death itself of the character if it only happens to lead the plot in a certain direction (so, no surprise both Kevin and Charlie were killed by the dreaded duo).

So could it be Crowley arranged/faked Charlie’s death, knowing what deep impact it would have on Dean, who already struggled with the MoC at this point? Did he hope Dean would come back to him - continuing their summer of love - and eventually become a demon again? Maybe even get the First Blade back? It is a possibility. If anything it would have brought Dean closer to Crowley again, maybe even made him dependent on Crowley.

And it wouldn’t be the first time Crowley faked the death of a loved one - he made Kevin believe his mother was dead, hoping that her loss would take away his last hope/connection to a normal life and to isolate him more from the Winchesters. To get Kevin at a point he wouldn’t care anymore, and started working for Crowley.

But in 9x14 we learn that Linda Tran was alive all the time, trapped with others as a human leverage. Previous to that Crowley did try to mess with Kevin - telling him at first his mother was dead, only to tell him later the opposite, that she was still alive and only he knew where she was. In 9x02 he first made Kevin doubt, reminiding him that he never saw a body.

This of course is something we defenitely saw - Charlie’s body, later cremated in a Hunter’s funeral pyre. But could it be it was still a trick after all? Maybe it was enough to simply tell Kevin his mother was dead, but Crowley knew the Winchesters needed a body to be convinced. But then again Crowley’s mother is a witch and we know he has the means to pull of a stunt like this. In 10x14 we saw him using the Rune of Amaranth, an illusion spell. Of course the illusion only holds as long as nobody touches it, and Crowley needed a corporal body to convince the Winchesters. We did saw another form of illusion in 8x21, where demons looked like Sam and Dean, to trick Kevin. So maybe there was a body - it just wasn’t Charlie’s and only a spell made it appear like hers.

And speaking of witchcraft. It is possible Rowena might have helped Crowley. Maybe she was able to contact Crowley even though she was a prisoner at the time. After all she knew how important Charlie was to Sam and Dean.

ROWENA: I read you the minute I saw you. And I'm sure you're learning that the line between good and evil is quite flexible. But we part company when it comes to blind devotion. Case in point . . . the Winchesters. You've made them the family you don't have. Foolish.

CHARLIE: Sam and Dean are like my brothers. I love them.

ROWENA: I know. And that steadfast loyalty will be your undoing, my girl.

She warns Charlie that the Winchesters will be the death of her, the same way Crowley warned Kevin in 8x02.

CROWLEY:I know we're not mates, Kevin, but one word of advice – run. Run far and run fast. 'Cause the Winchesters – well, they have a habit of using people up and watching them die bloody. Toodles.

Furthermore it might be possible Rowena cast a spell on Charlie as well. Because the reason Charlie left to be on her own, to get to the motel where the Stynes found her, is Rowena.

CHARLIE: I am doing my best, but with her criticizing, breathing down my neck, trying to sign me up for team witch . . . oh, oh, and moaning how the one good year for music was 1723 . . . I . . . I am going crazy. I know. No, I mean, she is evil.

CASTIEL: She is a wicked witch, so by definition . . .

CHARLIE: No, no, no, I mean something bad is gonna happen here. Castiel, man, just spring me for two hours, one hour . . . anyplace quiet. Dean is my buddy, and I cannot screw this up, but . . . but my mind is . . . is . . . it's a wad of gummy worms. Please.

Especially the last line made me wonder if Charlie is feeling that way because of Rowena. It sounded very unlike Charlie to start a catfight and to leave a safe place when she knew the Stynes were still searching for her. So was Rowena messing with her head? Getting her out so her son could fulfill his evil plan? And could it be Charlie is still alive? That Crowley uses her skills for himself? Or again as a human leverage?

In my personal opinion I don’t believe that’s true. If Crowley kept her he would have used this leverage already against the Winchesters. Furthermore bringing Charlie back now would feel like cheap fanservice and again lazy writing. That doesn’t mean Charlie will never come back -after all you are never really dead on Supernatural - but maybe in a different way. Who knows.

[rainygalaxynerd]

Brave New World - Chapter 50B

Warnings: Not really. A question and its answer might be triggering to some (sexual abuse/noncon) but that’s about it.

Summary: Someone is hacking Frank Deveraux’ hard drive and it contains entirely too much info about Winchesters underground.

Word count: app 2500

A/N: This is unbeta’ed. I’m too far behind to get help. :/ 

This is a chapter story. Link to mobile friendly master list here.

Tagging: @winchesterprincessbride @fangirling-instead-of-working @twenty-onepages @kbrand0 @vibou25 @littlegreenplasticsoldier @deandoesthingstome @jotink78 @mrsjohnsmith @jencharlan (so sorry I missed you in the last chapter, don’t know what happened.) @sleep-silent-angel (if you want to cringe over the mistakes I didn’t let you help me correct <3 )

Short, non-graphic recap of part A right under the cut.

Turning slightly, he wrapped both arms around her and nuzzled the top of her head. Her hair tickled his nose and he sneezed, before sighing contentedly and closing his eyes.

Caitlin lay awake for hours, confused about the many facets of the mystery named Dean Winchester, nervous about what the next day would bring, and finding a new understanding her own life story thanks to Dean’s insight. 

I promised a recap of Chapter 50 part A for those who didn't want to read it. Dean had a nightmare about his time in hell and the day he finally said yes to Alastair. There were parallels to Caitlin's discovery about her own repressed memories in chapter 49. In the dream, Alastair got angry when Dean wouldn't obey him and choked him. Caitlin was awake and worried and couldn't wake him. Bobby showed up, introduced himself to Caitlin and jumped into Dean's nightmare and woke him up. Bobby "left" again and Dean and Caitlin went back to sleep.

Chapter 50 - Interception (part B)

Half past six, Sam banged on the door. “Guys, wake up. Something’s come up.”

Dean extricated himself from Caitlin who seemed unable to return to consciousness. He glanced down over himself. Yep. Something’s up, alright. “Hold on, Sammy, I’ll be right out.” He began the hunt for clothes.

Twenty minutes later, the three of them were cramped in Sam’s room, eyes glued to the laptop screen, where an enthusiastic redhead was busy supposedly hacking Frank’s hard drive.

“Well, fuck.” Dean ran a hand through his already sleep-mussed hair.

“Charlie Bradbury.” Sam pointed to a nameplate over the desk, barely visible in the pixelated video feed.

Dean fished his phone out of his pocket and searched. “I’ve got an address.”

“How far?”

Dean tapped some more and his face fell. “Thirteen hours.”

Sam exhaled slowly, rubbing his forehead. “This was yesterday afternoon. We need to get to her before she gets back to Roman Enterprise.” Sam looked at the laptop clock and mentally subtracted on hour due to time zones. “We’ve got about two hours, depending on how early she leaves for work.”

Glum silence filled the room as minutes ticked by. Caitlin rubbed her arms against the morning chill.

“Why dontcha call the angel, ya idgits.”

Sam’s head whipped around as he stared wide-eyed at the apparition. “Bobby?”

“In the flesh, Son. Or… ya know.” Bobby flashed a wry smile.

Dean went outside to pray.

Meanwhile, Sam stayed in a state of shell shock over Bobby’s sudden appearance and closely followed disappearance.

Caitlin went back to the room she and Dean had shared to pack her things. She wandered around aimlessly, picking up items and putting them back down, laying stuff in neat piles on the bed only to jumble the piles into a giant heap minutes later. Her stomach growled angrily but the thought of food made her want to throw up. Seven hours until Derek Morgan and his team arrived.

There was a knock on the door, and Dean entered briskly, mouth open to speak. He glanced around and frowned. “Redecorating?”

“No. No, just… packing.”

Dean’s eyebrows shot up as he took in the mess on the bed. “Right. Well. Good.” He watched her flounder around in unacknowledged confusion some more. Stepping forward to block her path, he pulled her close. “Don’t know where your head’s at, Caitie, but I need you here right now. Can you come back to me?”

Drawing in a shuddering breath, Caitlin relaxed into his embrace. The sound of his voice, his scent, brought colors back to the world. “Dean.”

He stroked her hair and held her, temporarily forgetting everything else.

“Did you figure something out?” She had her arms around him, hands fisted in his flannel.

Dean almost jolted as the realities of the situation came back to him. “Yeah. Yeah, I came to tell you. Cas is gonna zap us to Alabama, then come back here and stay with you.”

Caitlin nodded her understanding but didn’t let go of him.

“He’s, um, he’s waiting for me.” Dean reluctantly took a step back, forcing her to loosen her grip. “We’re just going to find out if this Charlie is a big mouth or a human and persuade her to keep whatever info she might have found to herself one way or another.” He reached out and held her face in gentle hands, thumbs caressing her cheeks. “We’ll be back before you know it.” He leaned in to press a chaste kiss to her lips.

She closed her eyes, wanted to keep them closed so she couldn’t see him leave. Keep them closed until he came back.

But he didn’t move away, his breath ghosting over her face, his rough palms warm against her cheeks. “Caitlin, look at me. You’ll be fine.”

She looked at him, compelled by the gravel in his voice. Despite the reassurance of his words, his eyes were asking her for confirmation. She braved a smile. “I will. I’m so nervous right now, I can’t even worry about the Charlie-thing. It’ll be better once I get this afternoon over and done with.”

“Good.” He leaned in for another, longer kiss.

The door burst open to reveal Castiel, immediately looking contrite. “I’m sorry. I forgot about doorknobs.”

“Right,” Dean sighed, mouth quirking slightly upward. “Next on solid objects for dummies: Knocking before forgetting about doorknobs.”

Castiel raised an eyebrow in puzzlement. “I thought you and Sam were in a hurry, Dean.”

Dean’s eyes fell to the floor. “You’re right. Let’s get this show on the road.” He trailed a hand down Caitlin’s arm and squeezed her hand with a humorless smile. “Stay safe, Caitie.” He walked out the door.

Castiel stood on the spot for a few seconds before trailing after Dean, muttering: “What show? What road?”

Caitlin softly stepped over to close the door after them. “You too, Dean,” she whispered into the silence.

Charlie sat in front of her computer, chewing her nails. The only time she had left her chair since she cracked the hard drive her boss had trusted her to retrieve the data from, had been to avoid pissing her pants literally. After all, metaphorically, they were already wet and smelly.

She shouldn’t believe what was on that hard drive. Logic and reason dictated that she write off this Devereaux dude as a conspiracy theory nutcase. Occam's razor and all that.

Except. Why would her boss ask her to extract this information as a matter of utmost importance, if it was all mad ravings? Except. Several of her co-workers had been “off” in the past few months. Except. Soap dispensers in the restrooms at work used to be empty at least twice every week. Juan still worked there, the lazy ass janitor, and as far as she knew nothing anyone had ever said to him had made him change his routine of only refilling them too late. So why had they not been empty even once for six weeks?

She shot up from her chair to find everything boraxy she owned. She managed two steps before her path was blocked by three men. One second she had a clear view of the doorway to the kitchen, the next they were standing there, three stooges with somber looks.

She stumbled back, grasping for something, anything, to use as a weapon. She got hold of her Glamdring copy and fervently hoped that she’d been lucky with the quality of a low-cost geekaphernalia, for once. Please, God. Just this once. She held the sword protectively in front of her. “Stop.” Maybe that was a bit redundant as none of them had as much as twitched. “I had funions for dinner, I’ll taste horrible. You’ll probably get sick.”

The dude in the middle squinted at her and the tallest raised his hands disarmingly.

“We’re not Leviathans.” He gave her a look of earnest sincerity combined with a built in puppy-in-a-shelter vibe that had Charlie’s hands shaking. “That’s exactly what one of them would say,” she managed, adjusting her grip.

“You’ve read Frank’s research? They’re allergic to soap. You can test us.”

Cas showed up again shortly after leaving with Dean. He didn’t bother with the door, opting to appear in the one chair in a corner of the room.

Caitlin had been pacing, still under the pretense of packing, cleaning up, being useful. She had once again slipped into a strange no man's land where nothing seemed real. The way she didn’t startle or feel her head spin at the angel’s arrival, was disturbing.

“Charlie is a human. She believed us. She will not give Roman any information.”

“That’s good news.” Caitlin smiled at the angel, who seemed as stoic and immovable as ever.

“I will remain by your side until they ask me to bring them back here.” Cas’ intense eyes bore into hers as if his words had a deeper meaning.

If they did, it was lost on Caitlin.

Castiel said nothing more, simply sat stiff-backed on the chair and stared out the window where a sparrow collected twigs and straw for its nest.

Caitlin kept sneaking glances at the angel. An angel. He had healed Dean completely, no wounds left, no longer hypovolemic. He kept teleporting left and right. Angels were real. God. What did that mean? Why did things like the Mitchells happen to anyone? Why did they happen to Caitlin? If God and angels were real, what had she done to be punished so badly?

Castiel turned towards her, expression serious. "My Father does not believe in micromanaging. You were not being punished. You were simply unfortunate."

Caitlin stared at him. "You read minds?"

"No. Normally I can only hear prayers. But you were thinking extremely loudly."

Caitlin couldn't help a snort. "That's reading minds by my definition."

"You were projecting your thoughts at me, wanting answers."

Caitlin figured he was right. It didn't make her feel any better about any of it. So many out there believed, prayed, and thought angels were these amazing creatures that helped and watched over people. Apparently, the joke was on them, even though angels existed.

"Castiel?" She didn't know how to ask or if she even wanted the answer, but she continued. "If angels don't look after humans, then why are you here?"

Cas glanced at her only for a fraction of a second. He clenched his fists and looked out the window again. "I was responsible for getting Dean out of hell during the beginning of the end," he finally mumbled.

Well. Not thinking about FBI now. “I… Hell? Dean was in hell?”

Cas looked at her again. “Did you not know this?”

Mutely, Caitlin shook her head.

Cas sunk his head in his hands.”I can’t do anything right,” he groaned morosely.

There was a tinkling sound overhead. When Caitlin looked up, she saw the lamp shaking, shining brighter and brighter though the switch was off, until it burst with a shower of sparks and glass fragments.

“Cas!” She headed over to him before she could think better of it and knelt in front of him. “Cas, what’s wrong?”

Cas rubbed his eyes and swallowed hard. “He is already so angry with me, Sarah. So angry, as he should be. I can never make it up to him.” His clear blue eyes looked at her imploringly. “He is my friend, Sarah. I never had a friend before.”

Barely realizing he was using her given name, Caitlin fought the instinct to touch the angel. He had just exploded a light bulb, after all. The bedside lamp closest to them began to shine.

“I let him down. I betrayed him. My first friend.”

“Please, relax, Cas. Please. I’m sure it’ll all work out.” Caitlin’s voice shook, and she started violently when the light bulb burst and shattered. Closing her eyes and inhaling sharply, she grabbed his hand. When she didn’t instantaneously combust, she looked at him again. “Calm down, she whispered, and gently held his hand between both of hers.

“I’m sorry.” Cas briefly collected himself. “I was sent here to protect you, but I cannot do this. The voices…” He pressed his free hand to his ear and squeezed his eyes shut. When he opened them again, he wore a haunted look. “I cannot stay. Pray to me if you need my assistance.”

The sparrow outside the window had found a worm. Caitlin was alone, kneeling beside an empty chair. The floor and bed were covered in tiny glass fragments. The ever ticking clock informed her that there were five hours left. With a sigh, she began to clean up.

“You’re a hacker, right?” Sam paced the floor in Charlie’s small living room, ignoring the eye rollings he received from both Charlie and his brother. “Couldn’t you hack Dick’s harddrive? Maybe there’s something on there that we can use against him.”

Charlie shook her head no. “It’s super secure. Not connected to the Internet. I’d have to actually be in the room with it.”

“But you work there, right? You could go in there?”

“I’m not that brave.” Charlie hunched in on herself.

“So you could? You just won’t because you’re too scared?” Dean took one of the little figures on Charlie’s desk and scrutinized it.

She snatched it away from him. “Don’t touch my Hermione.”

Dean raised his hands in a half disarming, half sarcastic gesture.

Sam cleared his throat. “Do you think Hermione would back down from something like this?”

Charlie looked at Sam with narrow eyes before contemplating the tiny figure in her hand. “No. She wouldn’t.” She sighed deeply. “I guess I should help make sure everyone I know doesn’t get eaten.”

“The plan starts at 9 PM, then?” Dean looked to Sam and Charlie for confirmation. They had spent three hours hashing out the details.

“Yeah, plenty of time to get ahold of a van and charge those silly comm links you found in Wonko’s last year.” Sam pinched his lips at the end of the sentence and frowned at Dean, daring him to comment.

Dean smiled at him in return, open-mouthed, excited, and wriggled his eyebrows. “I told you they’d come in handy someday.” Chuckling at Sam’s annoyance, Dean kicked back in a chair comfortably. “But I think that leaves us just enough time for another trip to Elizabethtown. I kinda promised Caitlin I’d be there.”

“What?!” Sam stared at him in disbelief. “Dean, we spent several months this year on FBI’s most wanted list and you want to sit in on the interrogation? Do you really enjoy prison that much?”

“Course not, Sammy. Orange ain’t my color.” Dean rose from the chair and stood inches from Sam. “The Leviathans know everything about her and the Mitchells. How big do you think chances are, they’ll try something this afternoon?” He poked Sam’s ribs with his index finger to emphasize his next words: “If her life was on the line, would you continue tonight’s plan?”

Sam looked down, thoughtful. Then he nodded. “You’re right. I can’t believe I didn’t think of that.”

Dean made a grimace. “Maybe because you didn’t barge into the wrong house to rescue her and nearly got ate.”

Sam put a hand on Dean’s shoulder. “Man, I’m sorry. I remember. Lucifer told me just as you must’ve been going in. Those bastards at the hospital wouldn’t let me use the phone.”

Charlie cleared her throat loudly. “Okay, the FBI most wanted, I get. Not gonna ask about Lucifer, because with that name, well… and the rest just sounds... “ she chuckled nervously, “but you’re not leaving me here alone, are you? And if there’s damsels in distress needing rescuing, I wanna go.”

Dean gave her an amused look. “Eager all of a sudden, aren’t ya? Where was that adventurous spirit when we suggested a little trespassing at your workplace?”

“It didn’t involve any damsels, did it?” Charlie arched an eyebrow at him and smirked.

Dean frowned in puzzlement until the dime dropped. “Oh,” he said and scratched his neck nervously. “Oh.”