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[She means to head the opposite way; Cami's shift at the bar is over , and she's headed down to her room to rest for a bit. But on her way out her phone slips between purse and hand, falls to the floor in just the right place for Cami to kick it further down the hall. She huffs out a laugh at her own clumsiness, turns intending to take the few steps needed to pick it up--

Then stops mid-stride as she sees the trail of blood where it's landed.

This isn't at all the first time Cami's come across a massacre. In her own world they're--well. Far more common than such a tragedy has a right to be. But even though there is only one body at the end of the path, there's so much blood it feels like there should be more. She swallows hard, wills back the urge to be sick as her stomach rolls, the panic that wants to grip her mind. There's too much blood to expect this poor soul to be saved, and yet she still has to try.

So she moves over to the body, once living and whole, reaches into the mess to try and find where his pulse should be. A futile effort met with its expected reward, fingers covered in red, tacky fluid. How could they not be, when so little of him is left in tact? She doesn't want to look, but part of her knows she has to. She needs to figure out who this is, except that when she does, it's completely wrong.

She's not supposed to meet Sam this way. They only run into each other at parties, where Cami makes jokes about ridiculous hats and gets him to dance even when neither of them really want to, just to tease him.

She sucks in a deep breath, although that almost makes it worse. That much blood carries with it a smell, metallic and sharp, and she can almost taste it for how strong it is. But she can't let herself falter now. Someone has done this, and with no event in progress, that someone remains a danger to everyone else in the mansion.]

[She stands up, takes a few steps away from the body. Her eyes keep a constant watch on the hall around her, even as she turns on the phone to send out a message--audio only. She won't subject anyone else to this sight if she can avoid it.]

Um. I'm sorry, but--there's been a murder on the fifth floor. [There can be no other word for it. This violence, this cruelty can be no accident.] I found the victim. Sam. It's Sam Winchester.

[God, what is she even saying? Cami, of all people, should be able to put these words together better.]

Please don't come up here unless you absolutely have to. I'm near room--[A pause, as she looks for the nearest door] Room thirteen. I don't know who did it; there wasn't anyone here when I found him, but someone did. So please, be careful.

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[ She shakes her head again, and once she shuts the door to close them in, Charlie's tugging at her sweater to wrap it around herself a little tighter. ]

I'll be okay. I was just thinkin' about-- [ Cutting herself off, she steps closer to Bigby like she's going to lean into him but thinks better of it. ] Seeing it like that makes me think about home. [ And all the terrible stuff that had followed. ]

[Bigby nods his head, fully understanding what she was talking about. Blood, death, dismemberment - hell, that was the situation he'd left back in Fabletown. Another bloody body was just another Thursday to him. Funny how you could get used to the death until it was someone you cared about.]

I think it hits close to home for a lot of us. Why don't you sit at least? I'm afraid you might fall over. You're shaking.

[Bigby puts his hand gently on her shoulder. He doesn't push her into a hug or nudge her towards the closest chair. Instead, his hand is there to offer a little comfort as if to say You're not alone.]

I-- okay.

[ It's the worst thing for her because there had been plans. They'd talked about things, and now those things are on hold for who knows how long because of this. Not to mention, well... Charlie turns to look at him, staring as if she's actually seeing him for the first time, and her face pulls tight, like she's going to cry. But she doesn't, instead moving closer so she can hide against his shoulder and hug him.

Maybe she should say something, but she does doesn't do anything except squeeze him tight. She'd thought all of this gruesome stuff had been over with by being here. ]

[Bigby has never been the go to guy for comfort. Most tend to keep their distance, given what he is, but Charlie didn't seem to even think about it. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders, squeezing her gently, sliding his hand against her back. He didn't say anything - there wasn't anything to say. All he could do was be there for her.]

[ She's fine. More than fine. This is probably just an overreaction anyway, and it'll be out of her system after she cries about it. It's not like Charlie likes to do that, but sometimes, she just can't help it. And she can't now, glad for Bigby's support and amazed how their fling had evolved into this strange friendship of theirs. There's the slightest sniff, voice muffled. ]

We were supposed to go out. [ Which isn't entirely what this is about. ] And he's so nice. I can't get why somebody'd want to do that to him. [ She's tried figuring it out. ]

[Bigby knows all too well the shit that life throws at you, nice guys or not. Sometimes it seemed that only the evil bastards were the ones to end up on top. But Snow had shown him that in the end, there was something to be said about goodness. It was the reason he had stuck with being the Sheriff for so long.]

There's never a reason. Shit happens. It's terrible and I wish I could say otherwise. The only thing this place gives us, though, is a second chance. He might be gone for the moment but he will be back. And then... then you'll be able to go out and tell him how nice he is.

[ She grits her teeth and pulls back, the sleeve of her sweater used to wipe at her face. This is almost as bad as when Michael had shown up and told her that her kid was going to save the world. Charlie shakes her head. ]

What's a second chance gonna do if you end up dead anyway? [ What if it happens to her? What if being here doesn't even matter? ] I can't... No one knows who did it, but Sam-- [ Sam would, and that just complicates everything???? ] I didn't think bein' here was so bad, but I hate it.

[ She feels sick. ]

[Her anger doesn't shock him. In fact, it meant that she was slowly coming to grips with what she had seen. Hell, he'll take the full force of her rage. It wasn't as though she could ever hurt him.]

You don't have to like it. It's not fucking fair. It's never fair. No one wants to be here because we don't belong. We all should be someplace else, existing at a different time and in a different place. Just because he comes back doesn't mean that you shouldn't feel like you want to scream. Scream. Rage. Break some fucking glasses.

But he will be back, Charlie. And when he does, he's going to need a friend. Someone who hasn't gone to pieces.

[ But that isn't who Charlie is. She can bottle it up like the best of them, but it's nothing that ever really amounted to much aside from a night drinking or something just as tame. All of what he's saying makes sense, but it doesn't make her feel better. It doesn't take away the pain of losing someone else, coming back or not, and it certainly doesn't help her with wanting to know why this is going on. ]

He's probably got plenty. You think he'd really pick me?

[ The girl who happens to look like his dead girlfriend? Yeah, that's all she's been thinking about after she'd seen him, since... Charlie shakes her head, looking away and pulling her arms tight around herself. She just needs some time, but she can't say anymore than that. ]

[Bigby really wished he knew what to say when it came to relationships. He'd never experienced one before, outside of the casual fling and the thing he had with Snow. He'd never dated before - not unless you counted the times he met with Mary Margaret here in Wonderland. But even that was destined to end as soon as her Charming arrived. She wasn't his. And always he had to wonder if it was because he was never meant to have a 'Happily Ever After'. His stories never ended that way. He was the villain, after all.]

Why wouldn't he pick you? [Bigby shrugged.] I'm not really the guy to understand how any of this works. But you're pretty, you can see more than what's on the surface and that means a hell of a lot more than most think. I'm sure he'll want you when he wakes up.

[ The crazy thing is that it's not a relationship, not the one he's probably thinking of. They're friends before anything else, and she'd be lying if she hadn't occasionally thought about more but-- She looks at him in an effort to keep herself from being angry. It's not Bigby's fault that any of this had happened either; her track record must be terrible, even in Wonderland. Charlie rubs at her cheeks again and nods, trying for a smile. It's thin and doesn't quite reach her eyes, but it's something. ]

Thanks. [ It'll just be a thing she's going to have to deal with when the time comes. ] I think I've been locked up in here too long, and it ain't really helping. You think it's safe to go out and-- [ A shrug. She wants coffee, some liquor, and maybe an entire pack of cigarettes. ]

[Bigby knew she needed a distraction. Hell, anyone else in her situation would have already crawled head first into a bottle just to dull the pain. He didn't judge - in face, he was about to encourage she chase the bad emotions away until she was in a better state to manage them.]

It's safe. If you're worried, I can walk with you to the bar. I'm assuming that's where you're headed.

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