I apologize for neglecting to update for such a long time. My depression has been awful and these things make it hard for me to write. As I said before though, I will not abandon this story, just please be patient with me.

Reviews would be very encouraging! Also constructive and politecriticism is welcomed as well as any positive feedback! I have a couple of plot twists in mind that could go a couple of different directions and they are very mildly hinted at in earlier chapters. See if you can guess what they are!

As usual, I do NOT own anything related to Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Supernatural or any other TV shows/movies/books/songs that are referenced. If I did, Erin would be canon, Angel never would have left Buffy, and Charlie would still be alive.

The song for the last chapter title is "A Place in This World" by Taylor Swift. I had such a hard time thinking of a good song for the last chapter! These songs make up the playlist for this story.

Chapter 20: Mz. Hyde

It had been a relatively quiet day so far as Erin and Sam sat in the library, conducting research and occasionally looking into possible cases. Not much had happened as of late and it was making everyone more than a little anxious. Erin had not been able to find a single Bringer since the night she had clawed out of her grave and that alone was putting her on high alert. What if the First was pulling back its forces in preparation for something bigger? This thought and others haunted her every waking moment while nightmares haunted her sleep.

Since her last death, her nightmares had changed. They were much more vivid now—resembling memories rather than images conjured up by her imagination—about a place she swore she had never seen before, but she couldn't shake the feeling that it was familiar.

She was always in a forest somewhere. There was never any indication as to where the forest was; she only knew it was usually overcast, yet she couldn't really see the sky, and most of the trees were dead.

The image was always the same: Erin stood in a clearing, surrounded by decapitated bodies—which were smeared with black ooze rather than blood—covered in dirt, sweat, and her own blood. The nightmare always ended right as she would turn around to face a creature barreling towards her—a creature whose entire face was a mouth with a snake-like tongue and rows upon rows of tiny, sharp teeth. It was unlike anything she had ever faced before.

A few times, Erin considered telling somebody about them, but she always decided against it. There was too much at stake these days for her to distract everyone with nightmares that might mean nothing at all.

Just as Sam was finishing up a phone call with Castiel, Dean came in balancing three plates, holding three, large, egg white omelets. Erin acknowledged him when he came to the table, but avoided looking him directly in the eyes.

Ever since the day when Claire had almost gotten Dean killed, she had been trying to keep things as casual as possible. Their relationship was best left that way, in her opinion. Anything more would complicate things too much for either of them to handle presently.

She and Sam both raised an eyebrow at Dean's choice of breakfast food as he set the plates, with forks, on the table.

"You made egg white omelets?" Sam asked, looking at his brother skeptically.

"Breakfast of champions. You know, if you're a dork like you," Dean replied as he sat down, gesturing to his brother with his fork.

Erin listened in amusement as Dean explained his "twelve step program"—more like three steps in all actuality—to be healthier in order to fight the Mark of Cain. It wasn't necessarily a bad idea, but she wasn't sure how well it would take. She took a bite of her omelet; despite its lack of yellow, yolky goodness, it was quite tasty. Dean was less than impressed, however.

Erin smirked at him as she said, "You know, Dean, if you want to eat healthy, you're going to have to do it right. While the yolk of the egg does contain more fat than the white, it also has the most nutrients.

"A little bit of healthy fat is good for you. You need lots of protein and iron, so eating things like meat and dark green vegetables is the way to go. Fruit is mostly sugar, so you can avoid that if you like. You may want to cut down on red meat, but as long as you choose lean cuts and don't eat the fat, you don't have to cut it out altogether. Try to cut down on things that are high in carbs like potatoes, cereals, breads, rice, and pastas. Oh…and sweets."

Dean paled at the last statement as he listened to her continue. Sam looked on in mild surprise.

"Things like nuts are good for protein and energy. Peanut butter is a good source for that stuff, though you need to look for the kind with little fat and low amounts of sugar. Mostly, if you avoid artificial crap, you'll notice a significant difference. Use butter, milk, and meat from grass-fed cows. Look for meat that hasn't been filled with antibiotics and shit. Use olive oil, coconut oil, or grape seed oil for cooking instead of margarine and canola oil. Avoid anything containing artificial sweeteners—like sucralose or Splenda—and aspartame. Diet foods contain those things and aren't really good for you. Drink more water as well."

Erin finally noticed the stares she was receiving as she finished speaking. She looked very much like a confused puppy as she asked, "What?"

"Since when did you become an expert on eating healthy?" Sam asked. "I seem to recall you eating cheeseburgers as often as Dean here."

Erin shrugged. "I'm not an expert. I told you, I read a lot. And how do you think I've managed to eat cheeseburgers and still look this damn good?" she asked, jokingly gesturing to her waistline. "I kick ass to burn my calories and I avoid artificial shit. Best damn diet plan in the world. I also ask that my burgers have as little grease as possible and ask that my food be made with real butter, eggs, and honey or real maple syrup instead of white sugar and fake crap."

Dean seemed to be considering her advice as he begrudgingly choked down the rest of his omelet. He gagged a bit at the end as he said, "Ugh, God! The sooner we get rid of this demonic tramp stamp, the better!" he looked at his brother, "Please tell me you got something."

Sam gave him "no luck" expression. Talk of the mark reminded Erin that Giles was sending more help their way and she decided now would be a good time to mention it.

"We may be in luck," she said slowly. Both Winchesters looked at her with raised eyebrows.

"Oh?" Dean asked curiously. He sounded as if he were trying to avoid getting his hopes up.

Erin went on to tell them about her conversations with Giles and how he was sending back up their way. While it meant that they were probably in deep trouble, it also meant they wouldn't be facing things with just the five—six when Castiel was present—of them at the bunker.

"So…did he say who he was sending?" Sam asked, feeling a tad bit skeptical. He wasn't sure how he felt about sharing the bunker with yet more unfamiliar people. Sure, Faith and Robin seemed trustworthy enough, but would this back up prove to be the same?

"He gave me names and sent me pictures so I would know who to expect," Erin replied.

"Well let's see these pictures then," Dean said. He too, was a bit skeptical, but he was also willing to do anything in the universe to remove the mark.

Erin typed a few things in her laptop and then turned the screen to face the brothers. There were two pictures on her desktop. One was of a cheerful-looking, redheaded woman who looked like she was in her thirties—at most—and the other was of a woman who appeared to be a twenty-something brunette with bright, blue eyes.

"I'm not sure how I feel about this," Sam said uncomfortably, though he let his gaze linger on the picture of the brunette woman for a moment.

"I understand your concern, Sam, but at this point we don't have any other options available to us. Your brother is still afflicted with that damned mark and I know next to nothing about what I'm supposed to be doing or how I'm supposed to help you. And we seem to be dealing with an evil as old as creation itself. We're desperate. Not to mention, if Faith and Robin can trust these people, I think they're probably worth a chance," Erin responded.

Sam and Dean looked at each other silently, contemplating the ways this could all go to hell. Erin looked back and forth between the two of them, chewing on her bottom lip.

At last, the brothers looked back to her in what appeared to be resignation.

"So when should we expect the cavalry?" Dean asked with a sigh. Erin shrugged.

"I wasn't told when they were coming; only to expect them. I assume Giles is keeping me in the dark to make sure no one can predict when they'll show up and intercept them."

"Seems like a smart move," Sam said. Erin nodded in agreement.

"So what do we do until they get here?" Dean asked in mild frustration. Erin smirked, unable to resist making a joke.

"The same thing we do every night, Pinky…research," she said, the last bit sounding rather sour.

After hours of researching—during which Dean tried to choke down a kale smoothie, much to the amusement of Erin—Sam muttered, "What the hell?"

"Cain or Crowley?" Dean asked without looking up from the large book he was flipping through.

"Charlie!" Sam replied, surprise evident in his tone. Erin raised an eyebrow quizzically and joined Dean as he moved to stand in front of the younger Winchester's laptop.

"Is she back from Oz? She didn't call?" Dean asked as he bent over to see what was on the laptop.

"She's been busy," Sam said, pressing play on a video of a tiny redhead beating the snot out of an older male.

Erin had no idea what she was supposed to think; apparently, she wasn't the only one.

"What the hell am I looking at?" asked Dean.

Sam explained that he had been looking into news stories when he came across a report of a torture victim. The video had been taken by a neighbor's kid.

"Are you saying Charlie tortured someone? Our Charlie? Yea high," Dean held his hand up to indicate her general height as he said this, "wouldn't hurt a hobbit, practically sparkles?" His tone was one of disbelief as he dialed a number on his cellphone. Sam didn't have an answer for him.

"Anyone wanna explain this to me?" Erin asked, looking between the two brothers.

Sam gave her a basic overview of Charlie Bradbury and how she had ended up in their lives. Erin was sitting down by the end of it, looking rather surprised.

"So you're telling me that Oz is real? And she got to see it?" she said, clearly ignoring the more important parts.

"Yeah, I am," Sam said, mildly exasperated. Erin snorted.

"Well damn. From now on I'm checking every wardrobe I find for Narnia," she declared. Sam rolled his eyes.

Dean had been unable to get ahold of Charlie and was determined to believe her innocent until proven guilty. For once, Erin didn't know what to think; she felt a bit like an outsider for the first time since meeting the Winchesters.

The trio agreed to talk to the victims—apparently there had been two—and readied themselves for the trip. Dean seemed anxious and fidgety during the entire drive. While Sam assumed that it was because of Charlie, Erin felt like there was something else bothering the older Winchester that he didn't want to share with either of them.

Erin and Sam watched as Dean got in the victim's face, demanding that he tell them what they wanted to know.

Using their usual FBI cover had not been very productive; the victim had already wondered why three FBI agents were necessary to question him—Erin had felt that he wouldn't talk with a journalist around, so she had disguised herself as another agent instead—but he hadn't refused to talk until Sam revealed that the previous victim had been tortured into giving up his name. The trio wanted to know exactly what name this man had been tortured for.

Despite Dean's rather…unorthodox…methods, they were given the name and the woman's address. Wanting to avoid wasting anymore time, the hunters immediately started driving in that direction, hoping to catch Charlie before she struck again.

Sam read her file during the ride, discovering that her real name was Celeste Middleton. Judging by all they had learned that day, he deduced that she was going after the people who covered up her parent's car accident. The notion left a bitter taste in Erin's mouth. She had never liked salesmen or politicians.

Dean was leaning in favor of Charlie's decisions, unable to blame her for wanting revenge and while Erin silently agreed, she also knew that punishing humans was not what hunters were meant to do. Of course, she was probably going to leave a few bruises herself when she got ahold of the bastard responsible, but she planned to let him live in misery and shame. Death was the easy way out.

The one thing they could all agree on was that they needed to find Charlie before she did something she couldn't walk away from.

"Guilty much?" Dean asked sarcastically as the councilwoman closed the door in their faces.

Erin was fighting every urge in her body to kick the door down and demand the truth. What stopped her was the realization that Dean was feeling exactly that all the time and in a stronger amount. This knowledge shifted her attitude enough to calm her down for the moment.

All they could do was wait in the Impala for Charlie to make her move. The brothers were never fans of waiting, but they liked it even less so with Erin sitting in the back seat, singing every annoying song that came to mind and trying to get them to play I Spy. They wondered how she had ever managed to stake out a target without giving herself away or going absolutely bonkers. Then again…maybe she was bonkers.

The boys never thought they would actually be happy to hear someone scream, but there they were, feeling almost overjoyed when they heard breaking glass and screaming coming from the councilwoman's house. The three hunters were out of the car and running towards the house in mere seconds.

Upon searching, the three of them were greeted by the sight of Charlie holding a knife to the councilwoman's throat. The hunters had their guns ready, but were hoping they wouldn't be necessary.

"Should've known Rocket and Groot would show up," Charlie said dryly. Erin guessed that Sam was supposed to be Groot, given his height, but she said nothing.

She did, however, begin shifting her body so that she was in front of both brothers. That's when Charlie took notice of her.

"Who's this? I didn't expect Gamora to be with you," the redhead said.

"Hi, I'm Erin, official sponsor of today's ass kicking," she responded with mock-sweetness.

"Ooh, she's feisty. I like her," Charlie said with a leer.

"Let her go," Sam said calmly. Charlie glanced at the councilwoman.

"Who? Oh her?" she asked, punctuating her sentence by punching the woman in the mouth.

"Don't do this," Sam pleaded.

Erin was getting twitchier by the second. Clearly, Charlie was not the person they knew anymore and talking was not going to get things done.

When the redhead pushed her victim toward the trio and bolted for the door Erin chased her down and tackled her to the ground. Despite her having more strength and speed, Charlie beat her with one good punch to the head that made her feel her brain bounce against the inside of her skull. When her vision cleared, the ginger girl was already gone.

After making sure Erin was okay, Dean ran outside to look for Charlie while Sam tried to get some useful information out of the councilwoman.

The situation became significantly more complicated when, mere moments after Charlie drove away in a black van, she drove up again from the other direction in a yellow car.

"What's up bitches?" she asked cheerfully. Erin just stared at her, dumbfounded.

"I am so not drunk enough for this," she said, clutching her throbbing head.

The trio, plus friendly Charlie, was huddled around a small table in Berto's Ale House as the redhead explained her sudden case of magical split-personality disorder. Erin's headache was mostly gone now, but certain noises still made her ears ring. She was also fairly disappointed to hear that the wizard of Oz was evil.

"So you're telling me that one of my favorite children's books is all wrong?" she asked incredulously. Charlie nodded.

"Great. The wizard is evil, I have a minor concussion, and I can't even hurt the bitch that gave it to me without hurting someone who did nothing wrong. I need another drink," Erin groused, getting up and heading to the bar for a margarita.

Even at the bar, she could hear Charlie express guilt over hurting people and Dean telling her that it wasn't really her; it was a twisted version of her. Erin snorted derisively.

"Learn to take your own advice, Dean," she mumbled.

As Good Charlie guided Sam through the process of hacking through the councilwoman's bank files, in order to find out who payed people to keep the accident a secret, Dean joined Erin at the bar to get everyone some refills of club soda. Out of the corner of her eye, Erin could see his hands shaking. She turned to look at him fully and when he caught her staring, he looked like he'd been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"What?" he asked defensively, shifting uncomfortably under her gaze.

"Oh, nothing," she replied, faking nonchalance, "I just couldn't help but notice that when it comes to someone you care about you can make the distinction between who they really are and who they've been twisted to be, but you won't make that distinction with yourself."

Dean sighed irritably as Erin's eyes bored into him. She could tell he wasn't in the mood to talk about it, but she was tired of dancing around the issue. Nevertheless, she was able to recognize when it wasn't the right time to chat.

"Listen, we don't need to talk about this now…or ever if that's what you want. Just know this: you are stronger than you think…and I'm here if you need someone," she said, getting up before Dean could answer and joining Sam and Good Charlie.

Dean was irritated and it wasn't because of the self-help tape he was listening to or Erin bouncing impatiently in the seat next to them as they guarded the office of the man who killed Charlie's parents—though those things were rather annoying—it was the fact that Erin was clearly there to babysit him.

After much researching, it was decided that Good Charlie and Sam would return to the bunker and look for a way to fix the inner key to Oz—the key that opened one's soul, which Dark Charlie had snapped in half—while Dean had volunteered to keep an eye on Russel Wellington—the man responsible for the death of Charlie's parents. Sam, with zero hesitation whatsoever, had suggested that Erin accompany him.

While Dean did not mind Erin's company he did mind being babysat. He understood why. Had the roles been reversed he would have certainly sent Erin to watch over his brother, but this fact made things no less annoying for the older Winchester.

Erin hadn't spoken once since they had begun their stakeout, something which struck Dean as odd. He half-wondered if she was trying to give him space after their conversation at the bar. That thought was replaced with the desire to do something—anything—else when Erin started bouncing impatiently in her seat. She really didn't do stakeouts well.

Dean turned off the self-help tape—it was only furthering his aggravation anyway—and tried to think of something to pass the time. His gaze wandered idly around the neighborhood as Erin started humming a familiar tune. He couldn't figure out what the song was, but it was catchy and annoying all at the same time. His eyes landed on some Christmas lights that some of the neighboring buildings had put up; it was then that he realized Erin was humming Jingle Bells.

He turned to glance at the tiny woman to his right. It occurred to him that he had no idea whether or not she had ever been given a proper Christmas. The last time he had celebrated—like a normal person—was the last Christmas before Sam had been born. He was almost four at the time, yet he could remember the smell of his mother's Christmas ham wafting through the house as she waddled around with her pregnant belly, making last minute preparations for dinner. Dean remembered begging his dad to let him open just one present before Christmas morning arrived.

A small, bittersweet smile tugged at his lips. He cherished those memories, even if it hurt to know that nothing like that would ever be in his future. Sometimes, Dean admitted to himself, he envied his younger brother; Sam had never known what it was like to have a normal Christmas, for their mother died the very next November.

After that, Christmas was spending the night in a grimy motel room, watching holiday specials on crummy cable while their dad dosed off in a chair. They rarely ever received presents that weren't for self-defense or hunting purposes and fast food was their holiday meal. Occasionally, Dean would manage to get Sam a small gift, usually something light and easy to take with them on their travels. Sometimes he made the gift, other times he stole it. He didn't care; it was all he could do to make his brother happy.

When they grew older, Christmas was a couple of beers in a dingy motel, some fast food, and maybe a small gift. Dean usually received cassette tapes of his favorite bands.

The older Winchester turned his thoughts back to Erin, wondering what her Christmases had been like. He tried not to think about the thirteen years where she didn't even know what day it was, much less what holiday. Clearly, she had picked up knowledge of Christmas carols somewhere, though that wasn't a difficult thing to accomplish.

Dean had finally mustered up the courage to ask Erin about her Yuletide past when he noticed Mr. Wellington's car pull into the parking lot. He pursed his lips. I guess this conversation will have to wait. It's show time.

Erin sat in the waiting room, flipping through boring magazines and trying not to think about the multitude of germs that the glossy pages were harboring, while Dean was meeting with Mr. Wellington, presumably talking the scumbag's ear off. She was dying to turn on her iPod and drown out the annoying music of the lobby with some Three Days Grace, but she needed to stay on high alert in case Charlie showed up.

As she flipped through the pages of a women's fitness magazine, her thoughts were preoccupied by the realization that Christmas wasn't far away. Absently, she wondered if the Winchesters ever took time off from hunting to celebrate; she highly doubted it. While she could picture Sam getting into the spirit, Dean seemed like more of a Scrooge type.

Her thoughts were put on hold when the power suddenly went off. It wasn't a flicker, as if a storm had done it. No, this was definitely someone's handiwork. Erin waited while her eyes adjusted to the darkness; she hadn't realized they had been at the office so long. The hair on the back of her neck stood up and she instinctively reached for the concealed knife around her neck.

She stood up slowly, careful not to make any noise, and headed towards the stairs, hoping to reach Dean and Wellington before Dark Charlie did. She didn't get far before she felt something hard crack her across the back of her head. She swayed for a moment before unconsciousness took hold and she crashed to the floor in a heap.

Erin clutched her head as she listened to Dean converse with Sam and Good Charlie over speaker phone, while trying to drown out the sounds of the bar they were in. In the time that she had been unconscious, the older Winchester had fallen for Dark Charlie's tricks, leading to the stabbing of Mr. Wellington.

If she was being honest, she wasn't too broken up over the death of another scumbag. No, her concern was for Charlie and how she would cope with the things her dark side had done. She knew how it felt to have to live with yourself after killing someone.

Erin excused herself for a moment to use the ladies room while Dean was on the phone. She was hoping some cold water on her face would ease the pounding in her skull. She was annoyed that she had been caught off guard and rendered useless, but she knew there wasn't anything she could've done to help the situation. However, she would have at least suggested they pat the bitch down first.

When she returned from the bathroom Dean had already ended the call. Had she been paying attention, she would've noticed the haunted look on his face. He helped Erin stumble outside, but the Impala was nowhere to be found. Dean cursed under his breath when he realized that Dark Charlie had stolen his beloved Baby. Erin squinted through the pain to look at him questioningly.

"How do you know it was her? You leave your windows unrolled all the time. It could've been anybody looking for a sweet ride," she said. Dean avoided her gaze.

"Because she was here," he mumbled. Erin's eyebrows shot up as her visage turned to one of suspicion and accusation. Why hadn't he mentioned this sooner? The older Winchester sighed.

"We need to hurry. She's already got a head start on us. I gave her the wrong location when we spoke, but if I know her she'll have that figured out before too long," he said.

Clearly, Erin needed to have a serious talk with Dean about monologuing your plans to the bad guy.

By the time they arrived at their destination, Erin's headache had subsided and she was able to think more clearly. She wanted to ask Dean about why he was avoiding speaking of his conversation with Dark Charlie, but right now they had bigger things to worry about. Just as they were exiting the van they had stolen, they heard a gunshot ring out from inside the house. Erin rushed up the front porch stairs, terrified that she would find Sam and/or Charlie dead. Dean trailed after her, that is, until the sound of Baby pulling up could be heard behind them.

The two of them turned to see Dark Charlie exiting the vehicle. Well, that means Good Charlie is alive at least, Erin thought.

"Figured you'd lie about where to go next—that's what I would do," Dark Charlie said with a smirk.

Erin wondered absently how neither she nor Dean had noticed the redhead tailing them. She looked to Dean, who looked ready for a fight. He stepped in front of Dark Charlie as she moved towards the house.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?" he asked menacingly.

"I just wanna talk to her," the redhead replied, putting on an innocent façade. Erin snorted.

"Is that what they're calling murder nowadays? Polite conversation?" she snarked. The redhead narrowed her eyes at her, but quickly turned her attention back to Dean.

"You take one more step and I'm gonna put you down!" he threatened.

"Dean…"Erin said warningly. She was twitching where she stood, torn between rushing inside to check on Sam and staying outside to intervene should a fight ensue.

"Now there's the Dean I love. Shame you're letting this one keep you on such a short leash," Dark Charlie taunted with a smirk. Erin snarled at her.

Before she could position herself between the two, things had escalated to an all-out fight. Dark Charlie already had a bloody lip and Dean didn't look like he planned to hold back. Erin turned to peak in the windows, relieved when she saw Sam alive, though a bit tied up, and wondering who exactly the man in the dark robes was. The wizard perhaps? She didn't have time for contemplation if she wanted to keep Charlie in one piece.

When Dark Charlie threw Dean head-first into the pipe that acted as the porch railing, Erin saw this as the opportune moment to intercede.

"How 'bout you pick on someone your own size?" she said as she stepped in front of Dean.

"Speak for yourself, munchkin," the redhead spat. Erin growled at the taller woman.

She did her best to keep Dark Charlie on the offensive—using only defensive strategies to ensure as little damage as possible would come to the redhead—but occasionally she was forced to be more aggressive.

As it was, Erin was dying to give her a good thrashing for the trouble she had caused everyone. Before she knew it, Dark Charlie was driving her back towards the house, landing one blow after another to her face and abdomen.

All of a sudden, Dean came barreling into the redhead, knocking her to the ground a few feet away from where Erin stood, panting.

Erin willed herself to push through the pain and the nausea as Dean began beating on Dark Charlie. If she didn't snap out of it, both Charlies could die.

Dean was relishing the feeling of the adrenaline coursing through his veins as he threw one punch after another. The mark throbbed on his arm as if it were drinking in the pain it was causing. There was nothing on his mind except violence. He grabbed Dark Charlie by the arm and snapped it, causing both Charlies to cry out in pain. As he continued to beat her into a pulp, his hearing picked up the sound of another gunshot.

This was enough of a break in his concentration for Erin to grab him by the jacket and literally throw him across the lawn. Unfortunately, Dean wasn't thinking clearly yet and the mark was out for blood. He came barreling towards Erin and landed a series of blows, which she did nothing to block.

Erin fell to the ground and lay there, mere feet away from the battered, dark half of Charlie, letting Dean turn her into a bloody mess. While this would not help him fight the control of the mark, it would save their friend, and for now that was enough.

For the second time that day, Erin succumbed to her injuries.

Dean never noticed when Erin lost consciousness, nor did he notice the sound of the door slamming and heavy footsteps rushing across the wooden floor of the porch; the only thing that stopped his assault was the pitiful sound of Good Charlie trying to scream, but being too injured to do so properly.

The older Winchester froze and turned to see his brother standing behind him, cradling the redhead in his arms as she looked at him in terror.

"Is she…?" Charlie's good half trailed off as she looked to Erin's unconscious form.

"She'll be alright, it's you we need to worry about right now," Sam said seriously as he moved to lay her next to her dark half. His face was grim.

After a moment, and a bit of magic, the two halves of Charlie were one again and Sam was cradling her as she sobbed. Dean could only stare in shame and horror at his handiwork; he had already checked Erin for a pulse and had found her to be dead. The knowledge that she would wake up soon did nothing to lessen the guilt.

Sam picked up Charlie and placed her in the back seat of the Impala, assuring her all the while that Erin would be fine. The redhead gasped as Sam placed Erin's limp form next to her.

"She's dead," she whispered, her eyes glassy. Sam sighed.

"For now," he said softly. Charlie looked up at him, her brow furrowed in confusion.

"What do you mean 'for now'?" she asked.

"I'll tell you when we get back to the bunker. I promise," Sam answered, putting off the awkward conversation for at least a little while.

The younger brother said nothing as he enlisted Dean in helping him dig graves for, and bury, the two halves of Clive Dylan. He also said nothing as he pointed Dean towards the passenger seat and took the keys to Impala.

The three of them, and Erin's body, road back to the bunker in funeral-like silence.

Erin was really going to miss Charlie.

After sleeping for two days straight—if you can call coming back from the dead "sleeping"—Erin graciously answered any questions Charlie had that Sam had not already covered. The two of them found common interests in movies and books and she was surprised when Charlie asked her if she would be willing to teach her more about fighting. Personally, Erin thought her dark half had fought pretty well, but she agreed to be her teacher anyway.

When Sam announced that he had uncovered information about a "Book of the Dead" that could possibly have some answers in it, Charlie volunteered to go find it. Nobody was particularly comfortable with the idea of her searching for the book on her own, but they also knew they would never be able to stop her or make her change her mind.

Erin really began to think of her as a friend after she watched the redhead, with one arm in a sling, sternly tell Dean that he was forgiven, that he was not alone, and that they would find a way to fix this.

Yes, despite not wanting to get overly attached to anyone, Erin could not deny that she was going to miss this new friend.

As Charlie turned to leave, Erin caught up with her and gently pulled her aside.

"Is something wrong?" the redhead asked.

"Nothing we haven't already addressed," Erin responded dryly. Charlie snorted. "No, I just don't want you searching for this book without at least some protection. Every big bad in the world will be looking for it. Here."

Erin undid the clasp of her silver leaf necklace and grabbed Charlie's hand, closing it around the large pendant. The taller woman looked at her quizzically.

"It's not really my style," she said slowly. Erin chuckled and pressed the small lever that made the blade flick open.

"Whoa," Charlie mumbled. She looked back at the shorter woman. "Don't you need this?" she asked.

"Nah. I can make another one eventually. Besides, if you're going after that book alone you'll need it more than I will. That's a cold iron knife, inlaid with real silver and special runes. The rest of the pendant is silver melted down from some antiques. I've also cleaned the blade with holy oil on more than one occasion. And I had it blessed by a priest. It's small, but it's better than nothing against things that go bump in the night," Erin replied.

Charlie grinned and, with some help, put the pendant around her neck before turning to leave.

"Keep in touch, okay? And be careful. The First…I've seen it. It will take the form of any person who is dead—or has died before—to get to you. It can't touch you, but it will play mind games with you until you're thinking about offing yourself. And the Bringers…don't be fooled by their blindness; they're fast and they have wicked hearing and smell," Erin explained as she walked her up the stairs and to the door. Charlie nodded as she listened to her words.

"I'll do my best," the redhead replied as she opened the door to leave.

Her departure was halted, however, when the opening of the door brought them face-to-face with the redheaded woman and the brunette woman that Erin recognized from Giles' pictures.