Charlie Bradbury had been hyping herself up in the car for ten solid minutes before she finally marched into your shop.

First solo hunt. No Sam. No Dean. Just her, an upside down FBI badge, and a prayer to every fictional hero she’d ever loved.

She pushes through the door, trying to channel “competent federal agent,” but what comes out is more “terrified IT goblin pretending to be human.” Her hair is pinned back too neatly, her blazer is slightly crooked, and she’s repeating the phrase don’t panic under her breath like it’s a cheat code. She strides up to the counter, flips her badge open-

Upside Down. Again.

You glance at it. Then at her. Then at the badge. She freezes… still holding it upside down, trying to subtly rotate it without drawing attention, which only makes it worse. She clears her throat.

“H-hi. I, um- footage. Of the… tragedy. From three days ago. Yes. That thing.”

You let her ramble for approximately one and a half seconds before turning and heading toward the back. “You know,” you say casually over your shoulder, “if you’re gonna be a hunter, you should learn which way is up and down.”

Charlie stops like someone unplugged her from the wall. She goes pale. Then pink. Then bright red. Her mouth opens in a little horrified ‘o.’ She whispers

“How did you-? I didn’t.. I mean- hunters? Who? Me? Nooo, that’s- that’s crazy, that’s-“