Back From The Dead

Tattoos, Salt, Silver

Ten minutes later Dean stopped the car somewhere on a dirt road, next to a small stone stairway that led down to a big iron door. I sat on the passenger's seat. Sam sat behind Dean with Charlie next to him. Sam had pointed a gun at both me an Charlie the whole drive, but now standing still Sam had handed Dean's gun back to him. Sam pointed his at Charlie and Dean pointed his at me. I realized I didn't worry about it. I knew they were skilled gunmen and I wasn't about to make any quick movements. I waited in front of the car and as I expected Dean grabbed my left shoulder with his left hand and pushed the end of the gun in my back.

"Walk," he said. So I did.

Out of the corner of my eye I could see Sam be more careful with Charlie and for the first time I realized the depth of their friendship. I had heard about a redhead hanging out with the Winchesters, but I assumed it had been Rowena.

Without letting the gun stop touching me, Dean opened the iron door and ordered me to get inside, walk down a stairway and sit down on a chair. Charlie sat down next to me and while Sam went into a different room, Dean leaned against the table in front of us and stared at us with a blank expression on his face. Sam returned not even a minute later with rope and a role of grey tape.

"So," Sam said to Dean, rubbing his hands together after tying us up, "what now?"

"Now," Dean said, leaving a silence that lasted too long for my taste, "they talk."

Charlie, in the chair next to me, was trying to move her hands. I couldn't blame her. Sam's strength sure matched his length and it hurt when he tied my hands together. Even now, with the rope having loosened a little bit, I could still feel the burning on my skin.

"Dean, are you serious? It's me," I could hear in Charlie's voice that this was not going how she was expecting it to go, "Come on, Sam. You know people can come back."

"Dean?" I said.

"What?" It sounded more like a bark. Angry, and annoyed.

"Look, I don't know how to prove to you that Charlie is... you know, Charlie. But," I said and looked at the girl sitting next to me, "she seems fine to me."

Dean got up and held up his gun to the light, the reflection blinding me for the fraction of a second. But before he could speak, I continued my story. I was bluffing, but I could see Sam was about to give in and I knew I was a good liar.

"And me? I drank the holy water, you can check my collarbone for my anti-possession tattoo, you can say 'christo' in front of me," I paused, "what else do you want to do to prove I'm human? Shoot me?"

"Well..." Dean said and put his gun on the table. He grabbed a shotgun cocked it.

"Dean, no," Sam said and pushed down the gun Dean was pointing at me, "I think she's telling the truth."

Dean rolled his eyes and turned to Sam. They were whispering but I could hear them perfectly.

"Sammy come on, are you serious? We have been through this before."

"Dean, it's Charlie. What do you want to do?"

"I don't know."

"I think it's her."

"Fine. But it's checking the tattoos, salt, silver, and then I will consider the possibility of it being her."

So that's what the Winchesters did. Dean checked Charlie's arm and Sam pulled on my shirt until the black tattoo on my collarbone was completely visible. They pricked our fingers and literally threw salt in the wound, which hurt a lot but was nothing compared to what I was preparing for. Silver. Sam grabbed a silver knife from the table and walked over to Charlie.

"I'm sorry," he whispered as he kneeled next to her.

He made a small cut on the upper side of her arm. Nothing happened, except for a small stream of blood welling up from the wound and dripping down Charlie's tied up hands. Sam got up and kneeled next to me.

"You okay?" he said.

"Yep," I said, "fine".

Sam held up the knife, and I felt the sharp iron cut my skin. I took all my power, everything I had, to pretend I was fine. That it didn't hurt. Within a second I felt my hands getting sweaty. Sam looked at me and I smiled. The smile that I had taught myself, that only I knew was fake.

"Good," Sam said and got up.

"Good," Dean repeated, reluctantly.

"We can't check everything Dean, we don't have a way to check everything. But don't you think this is enough?"

"Fine," Dean said and cut the rope around Charlie's arms.

She jumped up and hugged Sam, who almost completely covered her head with his big arms. I could hear her whisper that she missed him, Sam uttering a 'hm-hm' in response without letting go of her.

Dean cut loose the rope around my arms too and I quickly rubbed my wrists and pulled down my shirtsleeve, trying to hide the burn mark that was already healing. I stood still, looking at Charlie and Sam's happy reunion when Dean grabbed my shoulder again.

"Hey," Dean said, staring into my eyes, "my brother believes you. That doesn't mean I do."

He held the knife dangerously close, so I just stared at him.

"But for now," he said and held out his hand, "you are welcome here."

"Thank you," I said and shook his hand.

He nodded at me and then walked over to Charlie and gave her a hug. I didn't want to interrupt so I just waited. After a few seconds Sam walked over to me and held out his hand too.

"Sorry about that," he said as I shook his hand, "precautions."

"I know," I reassured him, "don't worry."

"So, where are you from?"

"Eh, Colorado," I said. Usually the first question was 'how did you get into hunting?'. "You?"

"Lawrence, Kansas."

"I heard it's nice there," pretending I didn't know already where they were from, "except for the gate to Hell part."

Sam laughed, "yeah."

Five minutes later we were sitting on the table the brothers had been leaning against before. It was big, with a world map beneath a layer of glass as the tabletop. My plate was floating somewhere in the Indian Ocean. Sam was sitting across from me, with Charlie next to him and Dean was sitting beside me. It looked like we made the right choice with the waffles, as the brothers were halfway theirs in no time. I looked at Charlie. She looked happy, telling her story and enjoying hearing the stories Sam and Dean told her. I kept quiet for the most part, enjoying something I hadn't felt in a while. I didn't know why now, or why here, with people I barely knew, but for some reason I felt like I was home.