Work Text:
Bones were heavier than Charlie imagined. Any other time she had carried some they had been Halloween decorations. Paper, plastic, or styrofoam.
Two femurs.
A shoulder blade.
Several ribs.
A skull, jaw askew.
Charlie's arms were full of...someone. It was late. She was covered in blood and walking toward a candle lit picnic table under the stars. The Winchesters--her boys--sat with tired smiles.
"Thanks for coming, Charlie." Sam patted the concrete table and Charlie placed the bones there.
Lighter fluid.
Salt.
Match.
Charlie warmed her fingers over the fire.
So cold tonight.
Dean pulled her into a side hug.
"Goodbye, Charlie."
~*~
Charlie sniffled and deleted the text to Dean. It was only a dream. No need to call in S.W.A.T.