air, and she wanted to gag. Why did Rowena need her help? Why couldn't she assist Charlie with the computer? At least that was clean and logical. Charlie let out a frustrated sigh, leaning back in her seat and rubbing her temples.

"Damn it," Charlie muttered.

"That miraculous machine of yours hasn't solved everything by now?" Rowena taunted, faking a cough. "Overrated, I'd say."

"I'm using the computer to find some pattern in the book's coding or any synchronicity with the symbols in Nadya's codex."

Rowena rose slowly from the table, her movements deliberate and almost theatrical. "Oh. I'm more old-school. I read the signs nature shows me... the forces that ruled before there was man."

"Wow. Why didn't I think of that?" Charlie replied sarcastically just as Cas walked in, carrying a plastic bag.

"Oh, just in time for a catfight, Cas," Jovi spoke in relief, glad she wouldn't have to play mediator.

"I don't see any cats," Cas said bluntly, glancing around in confusion. Rowena chuckled softly.

"It's a figure of speech," Jovi responded, rolling her eyes. Cas sensed the tension in the room as he awkwardly glanced around before holding up his bag.

"Anyway, it sounds like blood sugar is dipping in here. I got snacks. When I was human, I grew very fond of these pork rinds."

"What do you know about the chick who wrote The Book of the Damned?" Charlie chimed in, eyes still focused on Rowena as she slowly stood from her seat. Jovi skipped over to Cas, who pulled out a small box containing a pie. Jovi gasped happily, grinning up at Cas.

"You're a literal angel," Jovi said. Cas blinked, trying to decipher if she meant it literally or as another figure of speech, so he simply muttered, "Thank you?"

Jovi happily walked back to the table with a spring in her step while Rowena began informing Charlie about the witch Agnes. "Agnes was a hermit nun... and as mad as a hatter. Made it her business to undo curses," Rowena said, sitting on the edge of her chair's armrest.

"Like the one that caused the Mark of Cain?" Cas interjected, earning a nod from the witch.

"As in any struggle between good and evil, balance is required. To cure one curse, Agnes had to know how to inflict another. They live side-by-side in the magic world. One cannot be without the other."

"That sounds cheerful," Jovi scoffed, shoving a spoonful of pie into her mouth. Rowena sent her a disgusted look but then remembered this was Dean's daughter. What was she expecting?

Charlie stood from her seat, pacing around the table as she spoke. "Sure, sure. Like, uh, a binary system. So, I got to think like a hermit nun." Jovi looked down, keeping any jokes to herself. Rowena closed her eyes for a moment before speaking.

"Did I mention they burned her alive?"

Good thing I actually kept quiet for once, Jovi thought, her eyes downcast.

"They?" Charlie questioned.

"A cornucopia of curses and satanic visions did not go unnoticed by the church hierarchy. These men would not abide a rogue nun," Rowena spoke with anger and frustration, her eyes glaring daggers at the stained glass windows.

"Poor Agnes. Ahead of her time," Charlie commented.

"Much like you and I," Rowena responded. Charlie's face fell into confusion as she snapped her head to look at the witch with a look that said, 'Excuse me?' It made Jovi giggle. Charlie looked to Cas almost for help. The angel awkwardly avoided her eyes, instead gesturing to the bag.

"Well..." He then walked away.

Charlie still stood in the center of the room, contemplating what Rowena had said. "I actually don't... see our similarities all that much." She looked over at Jovi, about to beg for backup, but then decided it would be best if she didn't. Jovi would give a brutally honest answer, which certainly wasn't what she was looking for.

Rowena stood, approaching Charlie until they were eye-to-eye. "Because you're young and good and I'm ancient and evil? Is that it?"

"Wow, she pulled the victim card," Jovi muttered, taking another bite of her pie, watching the scene with entertained eyes like she was watching her favorite reality show. Charlie stuttered out a "Wha...?"

"Let me tell you about you... a difficult and lonely childhood. Tragedy, absent parents. Always outside the mainstream. Sexually progressive. Living in your own head for solace and direction." Rowena gestured to herself and then back to Charlie, who paused, her jaw clenched before she responded.

"Yeah, but still, we are pretty different."

Rowena stepped closer, their gazes locked in an intense stare. "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."

"Bitch," Jovi uttered, a look of offense on her face.

"Sam and Dean are like my brothers, and Jovi's like my little sister. I love them," Charlie defended herself and Jovi, who sent her a smile, adding, "Love you too!"

"I know. And that steadfast loyalty will be your undoing, my girl," Rowena replied, slowly turning on her heel and walking away.

☆

Being in that damn basement felt like a descent into hell for Jovi Winchester. The air was thick with the constant bickering between Rowena and Charlie, their voices echoing off the stone walls. Jovi lay sprawled on the cold, concrete floor, letting the coolness of the stone ease her migraine. She had tried to mediate, but Rowena had snapped at her to be quiet, which only incited Charlie to launch into another defensive tirade. Jovi appreciated the support but longed for peace and quiet. She hated the weird witchy rituals Rowena had her doing—witches always made her skin crawl.

Jovi's head rested on an open book, her boredom palpable. How long did her father think Comic-Con was, anyway? Rowena, seated opposite her, hummed as she filed her nails, a picture of casual indifference. Jovi's eyes narrowed as she glared at the witch.

"Why'd you make me stay here? I'd much rather be elsewhere," Jovi said, her voice dripping with disdain.

A smirk curved Rowena's lips as she looked up at the curious teenager. "Relax, dear," Rowena purred, her voice as smooth as silk. "I'm merely interested in your potential. Your... unique abilities."

Jovi crossed her arms on the table, a defiant smirk playing on her lips. "I don't have any abilities. Unless you're referring to my questionable sense of humor, overused sarcasm, and a dash of mental instability."

Rowena's smile widened, a knowing glint in her eyes. "Oh, but that's where you're wrong, lass. You're so much more than you realize."

Jovi tilted her head, skepticism written all over her face. She'd always been told she was special, but she never thought about it in a good way. She didn't want to be special—just normal. "I'm not so sure about that," she stated, gripping her amulet necklace.

"Magic isn't always something we can see or touch," Rowena continued, her voice taking on a mystical quality. "Sometimes, it's hidden, locked away, waiting for the right moment to surface."

The pounding in Jovi's skull intensified with Rowena's words. She took a sharp breath, trying to steady herself. "I don't understand."

Rowena chuckled, the sound almost mischievous. "Oh, you wouldn't. Maybe your father would—perhaps he dropped you too hard as a babe."

Jovi faked a laugh, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Fake laugh, hiding real pain. Starting to think maybe you dropped Crowley too hard, too. How bad does someone have to be at parenting that their kid becomes the King of Hell? Sister, you royally screwed up there."

Rowena's eyes flashed with annoyance, and she leaned forward, her expression turning venomous. "I mean it, Jovi. Ask your dear daddy about your altered memories. I'm sure he has all the answers."

Jovi's confident manner faltered. Altered memories? What the hell was she talking about? Her father would never do that to her... would he? He'd done it to Lisa and Ben to protect them from the supernatural, but her? His own daughter? She didn't believe he would. "You don't know crap about me or my dad, so I'd reel it in unless you want to take a deep breath through your fucking forehead," she threatened, standing up and walking away toward where Cas and Charlie were conversing.

"Oh! Hit a nerve, did I?" Rowena teased, watching the girl stomp away.

☆

"...and that is why Billy Loomis and Stu Macher were totally secret gay lovers. It's common sense," Jovi declared, had she gone on a half hour long rant about how said characters were totally in love throughout the whole movie Scream? Yes. Yes she had. Had Charlie listened to every word and given relevant answers back? Yes. Yes she had. Had the two of them snuck out of the secret dungeon and off to a motel without Cas knowing? Yes. Yes they had.  Was it a terrible idea? Definitely. Did Jovi know better? Yes. Did she care? No. Rowena was getting on her tits massively and well Jovi needed an escape and Charlie offered the perfect one.

Charlie inserted the key into the motel door, unlocking it. "I fully agree. And Tatum was totally into girls, too. She gave off too many mixed signals."

Jovi gasped, following her friend inside. "Literally! She deserved so much better. So many iconic outfits gone to waste."

Charlie laughed as she set up her computer on the desk in the room. "Not her whole storyline going to waste?"

"That too! But the outfits were perfection every time. Speaking of, I really need to start a clothing line for hunters because what is it with all the flannel? It screams 'trauma' without anyone needing to say anything."

Charlie glanced over at the teen, who lay back on one of the beds, facing the ceiling. "Is that what you want to do? Be a fashion designer?" The redhead's tone was genuinely curious and soft.

Jovi shrugged, thinking it over. "I guess so, but it's not like I'm going to get away from hunting, so no point in trying to be anything else." Her heart ached thinking about how this hunting gig would be her life forever. Not that she'd probably even live to see her father's age, but she still held onto the hope that someday they'd find peace. Where angels and demons wouldn't come looking for them, where witches, werewolves, and vampires wouldn't be on their minds, where all they'd have to worry about was what to have for dinner that evening. Jovi hated how she used to want to be just like her dad, a hunter. She fought him so hard to be part of the life, and now all she wanted was to get out and be normal.

"Hey, don't talk like that. Jovi, you are so smart and creative and so full of life and motivation that if you really want to go to fashion school, you can make it happen. I'm sure your dad will support you no matter what. Dean would probably rather have you safe at school than beside them fighting monsters anyway," Charlie said, her tone serious and disappointed that Jovi didn't even think she could get a chance at pursuing her dreams because of hunting.

"You're probably right about that," Jovi agreed. Since she was born, her dad had wanted a normal life for her, so he'd probably push for her to go to school if anything.

"Jovi Winchester, you've got to promise me that you will one day apply to fashion school and at least get a taste of normality. If not for me, at least do it for yourself."

Jovi sat up, meeting Charlie's eyes with a small smile. "Okay, I pinky promise. But just so you know, you will be my model, and the flannel is going first."

Charlie frowned at the thought of being put into clothes she'd never normally be seen in, but if it was for Jovi, she'd never turn her down. She walked over to the teen, holding her pinky out. "Seal it."

Jovi grinned, locking her pinky with Charlie's. "See? Can't break it now."

Charlie found herself smiling back. She pulled away, nodding to the computer. "Come on, let's crack this code and save your dad."

Jovi stood from the bed, her tone amused. "God, I feel so motivated."

☆

In the dimly lit library of the Bunker, shadows danced on the walls as Dean descended the stairs. He had been searching for the elusive Eldon Styne, but the only person he found was Sam, hunched over the library table, flipping through a stack of papers. The air was thick with tension and the scent of old books.

"Hey. Any sign of him?" Sam questioned, looking up from his work, eyes clouded with worry.

"Lots of signs... just no him," Dean replied, his voice rough and weary. "I followed the blood trail, which, by the way, was like the Mississippi, until it ran dry." He strolled towards his brother, each step heavy with frustration.

"Meaning what? He bled out?" Sam asked, his eyes tracking Dean's every move as he came to a stop in front of him.

"Meaning the trail stopped. Vanished. Nada," Dean said, running a hand through his hair. "He sure must have thought he was gonna win that one, 'cause, phew, was he gabby." Dean began pacing around Sam, his thoughts churning like a stormy sea. There was so much unsaid between them, secrets that hung in the air like storm clouds.

"Well, I've been going through everything we have on the Frankensteins, and it's just like Eldon said. I mean, 1,000 years of nasty. They made a ton mopping up the Black Plague. They started the Hundred Years' War," Sam explained, his voice barely more than a whisper, avoiding Dean's gaze.

"You know, I thought, 'man, there's a lot of them Stynes.' It's like Alpha-male central," Dean mused, starting to take slow strides behind Sam's chair. "And then I thought... and this is key... I thought, 'this is bad, but it would really blow if these guys had the book. At least they don't have the damn book.'"

"Yeah. Yeah," Sam muttered, his voice tight with unease, eyes cast downwards. Dean leaned on Sam's chair, the weight of his suspicion pressing down.

"At least the damn book burned. Right, Sam?" Dean's voice was a low growl, and Sam nodded, clearing his throat, the lie choking him.

"But then, Eldon Frankenstein... he hits me with this little fun fact. He says the book can't be destroyed. Says it can't be sliced, diced, shredded, burned, drowned. Cannot be destroyed. Ain't that crazy? Because..." Dean leaned over Sam's shoulder, his eyes boring into the side of his brother's head, "...I know I saw something burn."

The tension snapped as Sam's phone buzzed on the table. Dean closed his eyes, a hiss of frustration escaping him. "Sam, you answer that, so help me..."

Sam snatched up the phone, seeing Castiel's name flash on the screen. He pressed it to his ear, voice trembling. "Hey."

"Sam, they're gone," Cas responded, his voice grim. Sam's heart plummeted as he asked, "Who's gone?"

"I've looked everywhere. Charlie and Jovi are gone," Cas informed him. Sam's face drained of color, his pallor stark under the library lights. Dean loomed over his shoulder, a dark presence filled with unspoken fury. How was he going to break the news that he lost Dean's kid and Charlie while they were both under his watch? Shit.

☆

Charlie and Jovi huddled at the battered motel table, the dim light casting long shadows as they worked furiously to break the cryptic code. Jovi, her brow furrowed in concentration, had pulled a chair beside her friend, the air thick with tension and the scent of stale cigarette smoke from previous residents.

"Ezekiel... seven letters. Seven represents the seeker," Jovi muttered, her eyes flicking from the screen to Charlie, who nodded and typed rapidly into the computer. The phrase 'no match' kept flashing on the screen, making Jovi want to slam her head against the table in frustration. "Okay. Saints represent groups of letters that stand for numbers, which represent concepts..."

Charlie typed in another string of characters, and this time, 'match' popped up on the screen. Jovi gasped, her eyes widening with amazement as she turned to Charlie. "Holy shit, you're a genius!"

"That's teamwork," Charlie replied, her voice filled with triumph. Just then, a loud, insistent pounding echoed from outside the door.

"I know you're both in there, Miss Asimov. You have it. I want it," a man's voice, thick with a Southern drawl, threatened from behind the door. Panic flickered across both women's faces as they exchanged a look. Charlie grabbed her computer and dashed to the bathroom, with Jovi right on her heels, slamming the door shut behind them.

Meanwhile, back at the Bunker, Sam had just broken the news to Dean, and it was not going well. Sam sat at the table, head in his hands, while Dean's rage erupted around him like a storm. "I don't fuckin' believe it! You got Charlie involved in this again, and now she's missing?! And my fuckin' daughter too?!" Dean roared, his anger a living thing, pulsing through the room. The betrayal cut deep—Charlie, who was like a sister to him, and his only child were missing, and Sam had lied to him for days about where Jovi was that was the one thing you don't lie to a parent about.

Sam's phone buzzed again. He turned it over, seeing Charlie's name flashing on the screen. Relief and dread washed over him in equal measure.

In the cramped motel bathroom, Charlie opened her laptop on the closed toilet seat while Jovi readied her gun, her face set with grim determination.

"Charlie, where are you and Jovi?" Sam asked, his voice laced with desperation.

"Um, a... a motel... t-t-the Blackbird. Sam, someone is here. T-t-they think we have the book," Charlie stuttered, glancing at Jovi, who was trying to open the small window in the corner of the room.

"If you have the book, give it to them," Sam urged, his voice deadly serious. He stood up, his urgency mirrored by Dean's furious glare. "Charlie and Jovi have the damn Book of the Damned?!"

"No, we don't have it. I just... I, I just have my notes," Charlie corrected, watching as Jovi tried to break the glass with her elbow. "Then give them your notes, Charlie! Give them the code... whatever they want!"

Dean grabbed the phone from Sam's hand. "Charlie, Jovi, I don't know what's going on, but you need to listen to me. Give whoever that is whatever they want. You understand?" Dean's voice was a mix of command and plea as he and Sam bolted up the stairs of the bunker.

Back in the motel, the door crashed open. Jovi froze, her eyes wide with fear as she met Charlie's identical gaze. Dean's voice crackled through the speaker. "Charlie?! Jovi?!"

"I can't do that, Dean," Charlie responded, hurriedly sending her notes in an email to Sam. Jovi jumped down from the window, her gun clutched tightly, ready to defend them. "Things just got a little more complicated," Jovi muttered, gulping as she heard the Styne's footsteps nearing. Her forest green eyes darted to the screen, watching the progress bar inch forward as the email sent. Her palms were slick with sweat, anticipation coiling in her gut. Just as the email went through, Charlie smashed her laptop against the sink, the device shattering into pieces. The room fell into a tense silence, broken only by the sounds of the intruder rifling through the motel room.

☆

Sam and Dean tore down the highway in the Impala, its engine growling like an angry beast. The car hurtled through the night at over 80 miles per hour, headlights carving through the darkness as they raced to rescue the two girls. Dean's grip on the steering wheel was white-knuckled, his knuckles pale against the dark leather. His fury was a palpable force, practically vibrating in