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'I am not your father.'
Those are the first words he ever says to her. Kind of ironic too, seeing as how he now seems to want to be. But Castiel is not her father, nor will he ever be.
Her father is Jimmy Novak. Kind, confident, devout Jimmy Novak, his faith only ever wavering after he'd had the misfortune of actually meeting an angel and got to be of service or whatever like he'd been praying for all the time. Now he's dead for it, and the one who took his place won't leave her alone, always texting and asking if she needs anything, asking about her day.
Yet, Claire can't seem to ever finally delete the number or block him. Castiel may not be her dad, but he is…useful, whether it be for posing as her dad or hunter advice or straight up busting her out of juvie (which, okay, that was pretty cool…for an old guy). He's also…knowledgeable in a way somebody as old as dirt kinda has to be, though he always seems like he's weighed down by something, always looking at her like she'd just killed his puppy. It's pathetic. He's pathetic.
Her dad never looked like that. She only really remembers what he looks like through pictures these days, but she does know that he looked nothing like Castiel does, which is weird since Castiel's still living in her dad's corpse. She assumes it's all the angst from being an angel. Or from being around Dean all day—that'd make anybody feel like they've got a big weight on their back.
Her phone buzzes away on the ugly motel bedspread. She flips it over in passing curiosity, wondering if it's Jody asking what she's up to again (she's still torn between liking the attention and hating it), only for her already poor mood to sour even further. Castiel sent her a picture of a My Chemical Romance t-shirt hanging in the store. What is clearly a thumb is taking up an entire corner of the picture, and the whole thing was taken at an angle that demands she either tilt her head sideways like he does all the time or turn her entire phone. A few long seconds of watching the three dots bounce later and a text comes through.
'Would you like this shirt? Dean says you would like this band.'
She sends back what she hopes comes across as a particularly harsh no, realizing that if she doesn't say anything, he'll probably just stand there looking at the damn thing until the store closes and he's booted out or until it literally falls apart at the seams and disintegrates in front of him.
Seriously, it's bad enough that she has Jody constantly breathing down her neck and worrying about her—the last thing she needs is the Winchesters and Castiel doing that. Sam is cool, at least. He taught her how to dig up obscure leads and hack into credit card records. Dean has a horrible taste in everything and just screams 'old,' but at least she can talk to him and he'll understand and relate. Well, when he's not a bloodthirsty monster, at least.
Everything is just too weird to talk to Castiel. He lives in her dad's body, and even if she's actually starting to think 'Castiel' when she sees him instead of her dad, it's still weird and uncomfortable. And then the guy starts with the sad eyes and the palpable guilt, let alone trying to make amends or something by trying to talk to her when it's obvious he's no good with words, relate to her when he thinks that hideous coat is still in style and that Dean's a cool person.
A few hours later, just as Claire's starting to clean up after her hunt, Castiel texts again, asking if she needs anything and reiterating for the thousandth time that if she needs help, she shouldn't be afraid to ask for it, ending the mini-essay with a little heart emoji, as she knows he does with basically everyone he texts because he's a massive dork.
She's not really sure why she does it. Maybe it's the stretch of smoke and death in the air, the blood and guts in her hair and clothes, the fact that she has to go buy ammo again or try to wheedle some off of Jody, or even just the weather. She's not sure why, but, furious, Claire jabs on the 'call' button, practically shaking in anger as she waits for him to pick up a second later before it even fully has a chance to ring.
"Hello, Claire. Do you need help with something?" Right. It always goes back to need with him. Seems like the only reason anybody ever goes around Castiel, and honestly, Claire's starting to see why.
"Look, just stop, okay? Just stop."
"Stop…what?" Castiel asks quietly, hesitantly, and Claire just explodes.
"Stop texting, stop calling, stop sending me videos of cats falling off things—stop bothering me already! You're not my dad, so stop acting like you are just to-to ease some guilt!" There's silence on the other end, so she continues a little more calmly, "Look, you said it yourself—you're not my dad, and I'm not a little kid, okay? I can take care of myself. Have been for years."
"I know, Claire," the angel replies softly, and she almost feels bad, even though it's been a long time coming. She's not even sure what he apparently knows, but at this point, she's almost afraid to ask.
"I mean it. I can take care of myself. I don't need you watching over me and protecting me. If you wanted to do that, you should've been there years ago when my mom shipped me off to my grandma and went off the deep end, too."
Another long pause, then an almost whispered, "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you, Claire…"
Claire grits her teeth and hangs up, finding that she's still in a smelly room with three werewolf bodies in front of her and there's still blood drying in her hair, because she'd spent the time she could've been using to clean up and finish getting Castiel off her back.
Still, with any luck, it'll all be worthwhile. She can take care of herself and it's about time he knows that.
-
It's not four days later when Claire begins to regret everything. As per her demands, Castiel hasn't tried to get in touch, hasn't sent her any bee emojis or cat videos, hasn't told her good morning with those stupid stickers with the waving bears or comic-style text boxes.
When she had it, she hated all the attention. Now, she can't really remember why, only able to focus on how lonely hunting really is. It makes sense why Sam and Dean always go together; having no contact with anybody at all outside of whoever she has to butter up or threaten for information is strangely depressing in a way she hadn't really expected. Even when she was more or less homeless and bouncing from shelter to shelter, she had friends to talk to and bitch to. Then again, she thought Randy and Dustin were her friends and they tried to sell her off for a wad of cash, so…
Maybe it's not so much regret as it is…guilt. Yeah. All she has to do is picture those sad puppy eyes and she feels like a jerk, but really, she's an adult now and a proven, capable hunter. She doesn't need an angel hovering over her due to guilt or newfound obligation or…humanity. The Winchesters got the right idea about the whole thing and don't really bother her, and she returns the favor unless she needs something from their huge-ass underground library.
She tries to ignore it. Jody still bugs her and Alex sends dumb memes every week, so she convinces herself that it's for the best if she keeps Castiel at an arm's length and just does her thing alone without anybody's help. It's not like they really want her around, anyway; they all just feel sorry for her.
That's when she gets jumped on what was supposed to be a simple vampire hunt by a group of demons that claim they can smell the angel grace in her (which, okay, that's not creepy at all). They drag her to their creepy sugar shack and strap her down before they start bringing out these huge needles and chanting some Latin crap and Claire can't help but do what she'd done when she was young and scared and alone while both of her parents and her whole childhood fell apart around her: she prays.
Desperate prayers spill from her mind when those grimy hands poke around her neck for an artery. Castiel never answered her prayers when she was a kid, but he's less of a stone-cold warrior with a mission and more of a-a human almost these days, so she sends them without even trying to, anyway. Prayer after prayer, plea after plea that spike when the needle starts going in.
By some stroke of luck, before the needle can get too deep, one of the demons' cell phones rings (what a world) and they all pause. With an annoyed sigh, the one holding the needle pulls it back out and answers the phone with a huff as the other two bitch about somebody named Rowena. Claire blinks around the blood steaming into her eye from a cut on her forehead, stuck somewhere between wanting to pray again to be saved by somebody else for a change and wanting to try to figure a way out of this herself like she's used to.
Before she can decide, the door bursts off its hinges, and all three demons turn in silent shock, one of them dropping her phone to the floor with a gasp. Trench coat billowing behind him, Castiel storms in, eyes glowing as he slaps a hand on two of the demons' foreheads and smites them to ash, moving past their bodies when they drop to the ground with barely a glance as he goes over to the third that's hovering near Claire's head. This one gets her head cut off, eyes still wide in horror and surprise. Claire, too, feels like she can't move when those cold eyes, still glowing with the remnants of pure angel grace, move towards her, the tip of the blade in his hand still dripping blood down from the tip to the floor.
Then, like flipping a switch, the warrior part of him disappears and his whole face softens. "Claire," the angel breathes, soft and concerned, hands hovering like he wants to touch and hold and protect. What a dork. "Are you all right? I heard your prayers."
Claire opens her mouth, then closes it, not sure what to say. She's embarrassed, for sure, but still grateful the guy had even showed up and thinks about commenting on it. Instead, she says, voice cracking a little, "I'd be a whole lot better if I weren't still strapped to this chair."
Castiel is quick to untie her and press two fingers to her head without asking. She wants to yell at him, but every little cut and bruise and even minor pains she hadn't realized were there disappear in an instant as she's flooded with a pleasant sort of warmth, like a hot shower on a cold day—something she hasn't experienced in a while between the detention centers and crappy motels. Well…Jody's place usually has hot water when Alex doesn't sneak in before her and blast the water for an hour and a half…
The sensation fades after Castiel's fingers disappear and he repeats, "Are you all right?"
"Peachy," she bites out, standing up on shaky legs and batting Castiel's hands away when they come up to help her. "I'm fine."
He looks at her dubiously. "Can you walk?"
"Sorry to disappoint, but yeah. No princess carrying today." Castiel just tilts his head, but Claire shakes her head and pushes past him to the door. "You got a car around here or what?"
"I…yes." Outside is that same old car with jacked up hydraulics that she'd seen him with before, probably hotwired and stolen years ago. Not that Claire's never stolen a car before, but the idea of an angel doing that… She raises an appreciative eyebrow to cover the twinge of unease as she climbs into the passenger seat. "Do you have somewhere to go?" Castiel asks after the car's engine turns over no less than four times before finally starting; Claire really hopes they don't break down on the side of the road or something…
"C'mon, why do you even ask? We both know you're taking me to Jody's whether I want you to or not." Castiel glances over at her and she just rolls her eyes. When they hit a paved road a few minutes later, something occurs to her. "Wait, how'd you get here so fast, anyway?"
"Oh, um…" Curiously, Castiel looks sheepish. Great. Fantastic. "I've been…following you. Jody was worried because you haven't been answering her texts, but she was busy with work…"
Realization hits and Claire shoots him a glare. "She tracks my phone, doesn't she." It's not a question.
"She worries about you, Claire." Likewise, that isn't really an answer.
"So yes." The angel sighs, and Claire pulls her phone out. Maybe Sam would lend a hand and help her ditch whatever's tracking her. Then again, he's probably in on it, since Castiel doesn't seem like he'd be able to find her location from something that's not, like, a book. Or a prayer.
She digs around for a while, but comes up empty. They stop back at her motel to grab her stuff before she settles back into the passenger seat and, knowing it'll be a long drive, tries to get some sleep. While she may not like how Castiel won't stop texting and keeps trying to connect with her or whatever, she does trust him, if only because his endless pools of guilt will make him feel obligated to keep her safe. (Also he drives like a grandma and never does over sixty.)
"Why do you have a car, anyway? I mean, it's probably stolen or whatever, but can't you teleport?"
"No, not…anymore."
"Hm. That sucks." She shifts uncomfortably against the door, unable to help but wonder if it's really a good idea to fall asleep.
Having a guardian angel (or, well, borrowing Dean's for a while) is nice and all, but the last time she thought she had a family, they tried to sell her and she probably would've been at least raped if the Winchesters and Castiel hadn't burst in like that—and after she pointed a gun at them and everything, too. Granted, Dean did tear everyone in that room apart and probably traumatized her for life, but…
Jody's a cop and Alex is annoying (in a sisterly sort of way) and they're the closest she's got to a family now, but will they really be happy if she starts sticking around all the time like they say they will be? She's obviously got a bad taste in character, and even if the Winchesters vouch for them, she doesn't really know them, either. Maybe she's just…not meant to have a family. All the ones she's tried to have just crumbled around her. Maybe she's destined to be alone, jumping from one motel room to the next and chasing after monsters that tear up other people's families.
"You seem troubled," Castiel states out of nowhere, startling her, though she won't admit it. The side of his face is illuminated by the passing streetlights, casting shadows that grow and shrink as they move, and he never takes his eyes off the road to even make his observations. Must be an angel thing, since they're supposed to have tons of eyes. "Is something wrong?"
"Just trying to figure out what this gross stain on the floor mat is." There's no gross stain; the car is immaculate, no matter how big and blocky it looks on the outside.
The angel hums quietly and doesn't reply for a moment, though he probably sees right through her non-answer after so much time with the Winchesters. "I know you don't particularly like me, but you can talk to me. I've been told I'm a good listener."
Now that she can believe. "It's nothing. Just human crap."
That gets him to glance over, looking strangely sympathetic. "If you need to eat or urinate, I can find somewhere for you."
"That's not what I meant."
"Oh."
The car is silent except for the sound of the wind rushing past, the tires rolling over the road, and that weird ticking sound she thinks is coming from the engine. Doesn't his boyfriend like old cars? Maybe that's why he stole such an old one and not because it won't be as missed…
"What do you know about humanity, anyway?" she asks, somewhere between a scoff and a genuine question.
"Well…I was human, for a time."
Claire's eyes snap over to him before she can stop herself, taking in the tension in his shoulders and the way he grips the steering wheel a little tighter. Hey, if he can make her uncomfortable, she can return the favor. "Really? How'd that happen?"
"I was deceived by an angel. Metatron." Castiel sighs, slumping back out of his tense posture in apparent defeat, and no matter how Claire feels about him, she doesn't like it. "He said he knew a spell that could permanently close the Gates of Heaven and prevent any angels from leaving, but he…he lied."
"Damn. That sucks." She tries and fails not to think about Randy and Dustin and how they were playing her probably from the start. Nobody should be that quick to sell off someone that's supposed to be like family to a bunch of loan sharks. "What was the spell really for?"
"It…it was to cast all the angels from Heaven and send them to Earth. You may remember a…I believe they called it a meteor shower in May of 2013? That was the angels Falling and their wings burning to ash and bone." Castiel swallows audibly, but Claire can't find anything to say. "It was my fault the angels all lost their wings. My grace was one of the ingredients, and when Metatron took it—most of it, at least—I became human."
Not liking his despondent tone, she scrambles for something to say. "I'm sure it wasn't all bad, though, right?"
"I suppose it did allow me to experience the taste of many foods. PB&Js, for example—with jelly, not jam. I found jam to be unsettling. I also developed a fondness for pork rinds."
"See, there ya go. Got to taste all sorts of stuff and live it up in that big dungeon you guys stay in. Couldn't have been too bad." Claire can't help the bitterness that spills out, because a year and a half ago, she was ducking out of foster homes and living on the streets until somebody caught her and she got sent to juvie again.
"Well, I wouldn't know; I was homeless for the duration of my time as a human," Castiel replies so casually as he switches lanes, and Claire looks at him in surprise. "There was a…situation, and Dean… I wasn't able to stay at the Bunker while I was human. I was already being hunted, and with Sam being so vulnerable after his own Trials…"
Claire thinks that there was a very real possibility that they could've met up in a homeless shelter, and the thought shakes her to the core. "Where was your hangout? I stayed in a pet shop for a week once. Stunk like cat pee but the security was basically non-existent, and there's nobody there to take your stuff." Also, there were cats, but she doesn't mention that. She has a reputation to uphold, after all.
"I worked in a Gas-N-Sip and slept in the storeroom. I had to clean the bathrooms, but it granted me a place to stay, and I even had an employee discount on the microwavable snacks."
Claire tries and fails not to picture Castiel shivering on a street corner with a cup of change, heading to work dead on his feet just to have a place to rest. An angel should never have to go through something so…human. "It's tough, huh."
"It was…difficult, yes, but situations can always improve, Claire. I got the remnants of my grace back and I'm an angel again. I have Sam and Dean again." The angel shrugs somewhat stiffly, like none of this is bothering him. He's so full of crap… "To everything, there is a season."
She rolls her eyes because he's a doof, but can't help but remember the spooked look on his face when he caught her preparing to rob a gas station for the guys that only wanted to use her for money. She wonders if he's ever been robbed before like that, if that's why he stopped her as much as not wanting a major violent crime to go on her permanent record or anything. It makes her wonder how much stuff he's been through that she can't even imagine; living for as long as he has without experiencing anything doesn't seem possible.
Instead of voicing this, she just snorts. "Please don't tell me you just quoted the Bible to me." Really, though, how many people can say they've had an angel quote the Holy Book to them?
"My apologies. Dean suggested that I try to relate to you, so if you'd rather, I could quote the lyrics of 'cold play' to you. Dean said you would like that one."
Claire rolls her eyes again. "Tell Dean to kiss my ass." Castiel looks over at her, looking torn between confusion and concern. Dork. He still has that tie on, too. Then again, Claire's still got that Grumpy Cat stuffed animal in her duffel bag, so it's not like she can say anything. "Nevermind. I'd rather hear embarrassing stories about the Winchesters, anyway. You have any idea what kind of ammo that gives you in the hunting community?"
"Gabriel impressed upon me the importance of the ancient celestial equivalent of 'blackmail' long ago, and I imagine the two are not dissimilar."
"Wait, Gabriel? Like the archangel Gabriel?"
"Yes. He likes candy and practical jokes. He once dyed Michael's wings hot pink. I'm still surprised Michael didn't smite him for that."
Okay, Castiel may be an angel living in her dead dad's body, but he's clearly got some interesting stories to tell, and Claire would just be an idiot if she missed the opportunity to hear stories about Heaven's archangels starting century-long prank wars on each other. There are worse ways to pass a long drive. And, yeah, maybe Castiel's not all that bad, either.
When they do finally get to South Dakota, Claire hesitates by the car door after she gets out, realizing that Jody's out on-call anyway since the lights are off. "Y'know, you can maybe…text me. If you want. Just—not so often. Kinda hard to sneak up on vampires when your phone starts buzzing."
"Yes, I understand. Sam said that you can make the cell phones be silent, but I'm still not sure how to do that. I can ask him for you if you need assistance. I'm sure he wouldn't mind explaining it again."
Claire bites the inside of her cheek to unsuccessfully smother a smile. What a dork.
-
Their relationship improves a little after that. She's not gonna go make friendship bracelets or anything, but she does feel more comfortable calling if she needs anything. Besides, Castiel's a walking supernatural encyclopedia and Google Translate for any and all ancient languages. If she needs any help with anything on a hunt, she's only saving time by calling him about it. And maybe the stickers of waving bears aren't that annoying. It's not like she's on a phone plan limiting texts, anyway…
Logically, she knows and has seen that there are clearly quite a few sides to him, most of which are about as threatening as a gummy bear. Still, due to the nature of their relationship, Claire only ever really talks to Castiel about things that are hunter-related. She doesn't think he minds one way or the other, but it does make her feel a little bad that for all their talking, they never just…hang out, especially considering the first and last time they did that, she snatched his wallet (which she saw Dean give back, but still).
Then come the few weeks where he stops sending her any sort of message at all and doesn't pick up when she tries to call him. It's…damnit, it's worrying, but Sam and Dean blow her off when she tries to ask them about it. Then, within a couple of weeks, Castiel sends a simple apology for being absent and asks what she's been up to and they settle back into the weird routine they had before.
But she's not sure if she wants to settle back into Castiel being there only for information, so eventually, she just decides to hell with it and calls him, and the first thing Castiel says is: "Claire. Do you need help?"
This creates quite the hole for her to dig herself out of. How does she ask somebody she's basically got only a working relationship with to just hang out? Going out for a drink is probably out of the question, since Castiel not only knows Jody's number but is also totally the type to frown upon underage drinking. Then again, people used to put alcohol in bottles and feed it to their kids, so maybe he's more from that era.
"Claire?" Castiel calls again, sounding concerned.
Claire chickens out last second and goes for the safe option. "I found a ghost hunt in Oregon if you're up for it."
"Oh. Yes, of course. I'll begin driving there immediately." As he's talking, there's some shuffling and then what's clearly a car starting. Dork. Still, no surprises there. Claire hangs up and sends the coordinates before trying to catch a ride there herself.
She's able to book a motel room long before Castiel shows up and asks herself as she waits just what the hell she's doing, excusing it as turning over a new leaf. She's done some serious thinking lately about her place in this world after she, Jody, and Alex got jumped by a bunch of vengeful vampires. She's really trying to give this family thing a try, but sometimes, she just needs a little space.
Dean kinda gets it and rightfully told her that she was being a douchebag to the only people that really care about her anymore, so she's…she can't promise that she'll get it right, but she's trying. Kind of. Being a hunter doesn't really go hand in hand with poring over meaningless schoolwork, though, and while she understands that Jody's just trying to let her try out the normal life, that normal life ended long before she started hunting, long before was sixteen and her grandma died, long before Castiel ever got into contact with her again after all those years.
A few hours later, there's a knock at the door, and Claire opens it to find Castiel standing there, looking almost exactly as he did the last time she saw him in person. "What took you so long? Dean could've gotten here in half the time."
"Dean disregards speed limits. I made it here as quickly as I could while following all the rules of the road." So he still drives like a grandma, then. Super.
The ghost hunt turns out to be a painfully easy one and just as straightforward as it seemed in the newspaper snippet Claire had found; vengeful old guy pissed at his great granddaughter for marrying a Muslim decided to start killing off all his great grandkids up until they salted and burned his vanilla ass right in his clearly marked grave.
Throughout the hunt, Claire notices that Castiel is an absolutely atrocious liar (just as he'd been with that group home agent with the exterminator thing), continuously defers to her for instruction (which is weird, but she's guessing it's either an angel thing or he's trying to see how good she is at her 'job'), and that he will inevitably become distracted whenever a bee or a cat or anything small and fuzzy crosses their path. Also he has no idea how to tie a tie despite wearing one 24/7 and still thinks ketchup is a vegetable because Claire once told him it was and Dean apparently reinforced it.
Don't get her wrong, there's definitely a badass buried somewhere in that meatsuit; she'd dropped her box of matches when the ghost popped up and was quickly dispelled by a firm sweep of a tire iron, unable to get anywhere near Claire as she salted the bones with Castiel standing guard over her. But still, something about the angel is just…soft.
"Hey, you remember those demons that grabbed me a little over a year ago?" Claire asks at the dinner as she empties a third ketchup packet over her basket of fries before nudging it closer to Castiel and encouraging him to take some if he wants, even though he apparently doesn't eat. "They said I still had angel grace in me. Is that a thing?"
"It's more of a byproduct, but…yes. When an angel leaves a vessel, traces of their grace are left behind, though the amount varies depending on how long the angel occupies the vessel." Castiel squints at her for a moment and continues, "The grace within you is already gone due to the length of time that has passed since you were possessed, if that's what you're asking."
It's somewhat of a comforting thought. "What about you? How's your magic angel juice these days?"
"I'm fine." Claire just raises an eyebrow and pops a fry in her mouth, and Castiel relents. "It's…strained. Sharing my vessel with Lucifer has weakened me, and I can't tell if it's permanent yet."
Claire chokes on her Coke and holds a hand up when Castiel leans over as if to pat her back. "You were possessed by Lucifer? As in Satan?" A nearby waitress shoots her a look and she flips her off with barely a thought, adding more quietly, "I didn't think it was even possible for an angel to body-share with another angel."
"Usually, it's not. But due to Jimmy's…absence," Castiel begins cautiously, and Claire waves him on to continue, the thought more of a comfort now than anything since it means her dad gets to live it up somewhere at least, "that is, the absence of a human soul, I am the sole occupant of this vessel now and my grace is weak enough that there is 'room' for another angel's grace. That said, having Lucifer here was…crowded. An archangel is much larger than a seraphim."
Seraphim. She knows from the church services she went to as a kid that that means Castiel got an upgrade at some point after he'd possessed her, and it makes her wonder if he'd even still be alive after…Lucifer without that upgrade. "Wow. But he's gone now, right?"
"Yes, he's gone. But on a more positive note, Mary Winchester has been brought back after being deceased for more than thirty years." She blinks in surprise, snorting when the angel adds needlessly, "She's Sam and Dean's mother."
"Just what the world needs—another Winchester." Castiel looks genuinely offended by that, and she rolls her eyes. "Relax, I'm kidding. World could always use more hunters."
And isn't that the truth. Hunters really do make the world a little better of a place, but at the cost of their own lives. Like Jody's new 'friend' Donna, a cop-turned-hunter after watching how many bodies drop around her. She keeps a brave face and a sickeningly peppy smile, but Claire knows this life ain't exactly easy.
Claire nudges the fries closer again, and Castiel indulgently eats one, chewing very slowly and face solemn like he's in a funeral home and is silently mourning. He eats another without prompt, so they can't be as displeasing as his expression makes them seem. It's just…one of his quirks. Like his weird love of emoticons, which turns out to be because they help him understand what people are feeling, having mentioned that he's always had a lot of trouble with that. Claire wonders if it's an angel thing, but deep down, she knows it isn't. It's just a Castiel thing.
She's glad Castiel feels comfortable enough around her to just be himself now that some of the guilt has passed and it's something else motivating him to spend time with her. For a few traitorous seconds, Claire even wonders if that new motivator might be love.
-
Claire discovers soon that Castiel really is great to vent to. He'll just…listen to whatever anyone bitches about and offers whatever help he can. She calls him after she turns into a werewolf for a little while, wanting someone to talk to but not wanting to admit to Jody just yet that she's not looking at colleges or wanting to talk to Alex, who looks more and more like the perfect daughter the more Claire does her thing.
She calls when she's trying to stop a ghost haunting an orphanage and killing kids in situations not unlike her own a few years before, with her being too late to stop the ghost from killing five orphans and wondering why she even bothers trying when she's too slow to stop a bunch of innocent deaths. (Castiel's quick to make her realize that while she lost five, she saved the rest and a little of the guilt is soothed.)
She calls when an overachiever with parental issues on all fronts, Patience, moves in with Jody and decides to pursue school instead of hunting, making Claire look even worse next to them as she'd decided long ago that that just wasn't for her. She says it's not jealousy, but it kind of is, especially when she wears Claire's clothes and takes her…old room. There's just a certain level of inadequacy and insecurity that comes from being abandoned by family, again and again.
But things are better now that she's got a…a mom and a sister and the Winchesters and their angel, but those kinds of feelings don't just disappear. Turns out, angels can feel that way too, can feel like they're nothing but a tool for those around them to use, that they're only as valuable as they are useful. Castiel doesn't have all the answers, but he understands and that alone makes it hurt a little less, even if that does spawn the question of why Claire is hunting at all—to help people, or to prove her value.
She calls after Kaia…dies and vents about unfamiliar feelings, realizing partway through that she has a crush, which makes her abruptly stop talking as she wonders if angels are okay with that type thing between two people of the same gender, wonders what angels might think about people like her. Turns out, God couldn't care less about sexualities, and Castiel certainly doesn't as he accidentally confirms what Claire has long suspected: he has feelings for Dean.
Like, gross mushy feelings. And it is a little weird to think about since that's her dad's body he's walking around in, but if there's one thing she's concluded over the years, it's that Castiel really does deserve to be happy—hell, they all do. Hunting isn't exactly sunshine and lollipops. But Castiel knows what it's like to lose Dean, too, how it feels like a part of him is just…missing the minute Dean disappears. Claire definitely understands that feeling, and she barely knew Kaia; she can only imagine how bad it must hurt to be so completely in love with somebody for so long, only to have them yanked away…
It's not all bad.
They hang out sometimes. One time, after a hunt gone bad, she wants some company and has greasy pizza with the dork angel and is seconds from passing out in his car when he starts talking. "It'll be okay, Claire," the angel soothes, a strangely soft cadence in his voice that comforts her despite everything. "You can rest. I'll watch over you."
Claire can't help but feel…safe, completely and wholly in a way she's only felt once for a few minutes. She doesn't really like to think about those few minutes where Castiel possessed her, but when she does, it's not actually a bad memory, even though that was the last time she saw her father. No, all she remembers was feeling completely warm and safe and secure for the first time, like nothing could ever hurt her again, like everything would truly be okay. She'd felt powerful, like she could really make a difference in the world in a more impactful way than what she does now with hunting. Then, when Castiel left, she remembers feeling empty and cold in a way she blamed on the realization that leaving her body meant going back into her dad's.
Still, for those few minutes, she felt…connected to Castiel. She remembers that through all of the warmth she felt, Castiel felt…damaged, broken, and quite badly hurt above everything. From what she gathered, he'd just been forced back up to Heaven for what she assumes was punishment, and it must've been a pretty severe one if it got him to walk away from Dean Winchester with hardly a glance.
She tries not to think about that time. They're past that, now.
Sometime later, she meets Castiel's other kid, who's actually Lucifer's kid. They have absolutely nothing in common, but she feels weirdly responsible for Jack, which she's blaming on him being basically a toddler. He's got a nougat obsession and likes pineapple on pizza, emitting a satisfying sort of bastard energy that probably pisses Dean off.
She introduces Jack to painting his nails and encourages him to get his ears pierced, though they discover quickly that he heals up any holes they make in his ears due to his grace. Either way, she has someone to indoctrinate in meme culture since Sam and Dean are too old and Castiel wouldn't understand humor if it hit him over the head.
In the middle of the end of the world, Castiel drops by to hang out with her without much of a warning, looking like such a kicked puppy that she can't even think of saying no. They watch crappy movies that leave the angel's head almost permanently tilted sideways and get tacos at three in the morning, despite Castiel not needing to eat.
Kaia comes back again. They don't kiss or anything, but Claire thinks about it and tries to smother the thought under a mind-pillow. She wants to talk to Castiel about it, but Dean's been such a dick to him lately it seems, so she holds off, not wanting to make that hurt any worse. She and Kaia end up watching some comedy on the couch and hold hands, with Alex lying on her stomach on the floor spouting unfunny commentary and Patience passed out in the armchair.
Then, a few weeks later, she…dies. Everyone dies, as far as she knows, but they all come back eventually. Dorky little Jack with the pineapple pizza fixation becomes God, Castiel rises from the dead (again), and all kinds of dead people are brought back. There's a nice little honeymoon phase before monsters stop popping up again, and even though Claire still hunts, there's definitely some motivation to be safe and return home now, because for the first time since she was a kid, she finally feels like she has one to come back to.
-
Soon enough, Castiel comes to visit again and Claire takes him and Kaia to a lunch date that ends in a trip to the mall when she's able to prod enough to find out that Castiel had actually confessed his love to Dean (before dying, but still). Apparently, Dean still hasn't addressed his confession, and that's just such a load of crap that Claire can't just sit back and do nothing.
"Are you…certain this is necessary?" Castiel asks quietly as Claire fixes his tie (a new one, since he's incapable of keeping one through a resurrection, apparently). "If Dean wanted to go on a-a date, wouldn't he have said something by now? I've already told him how I feel, and his silence really is enough of an answer on its own…"
"Hey, chin up. Nobody likes a pouter." She pulls the tie tight and makes sure it's straight (hah). "There. Now you look like a dad." Castiel may not be her father, but these days, he comes pretty damn close, and judging by how he smiles a little at the remark, she thinks he might feel the same. "Kaia, is Romeo on his way?"
"Yep, he'll be at the restaurant in five." Kaia smirks, dark eyes sparkling. "He thinks we need him for FBI certification, so he should be better dressed than his usual lumberjack self, hopefully."
"Claire, this is a bad idea," Castiel stresses yet again as Kaia hands him a single rose. Distantly, Claire realizes he's shaking from where they're standing outside the fancy restaurant (well, if Olive Garden can be considered fancy) they'd booked, looking almost small without that trench coat to cover his suit, up until Claire relents and gives it to him in hopes the comfort blanket make him look less like he's going to the dentist. "Dean doesn't— I must've been mistaken when I thought he felt the same, and I don't want to pressure him—"
A sleek black car rolls up, and Claire pats him on the shoulder as Kaia ducks around the corner. "Too late. Now go ask that idiot out already. And a word of advice—the breadsticks are free, so make sure to keep 'em coming. Dean'll appreciate that, I'm sure."
"Claire," Castiel hisses as she disappears right before Dean, who's notably not in a suit and is decked out in flannel and leather and denim (ugh), starts walking up. Kaia and Claire watch from nearby as the angel fumbles and squirms before finally holding the rose out to Dean. "Dean, I…Kaia and Claire have…um."
"Cas, what the hell?" Kaia winces next to her and starts to move, but Claire puts a hand to her shoulder to stop her as Dean's face reddens, eyes flickering between the rose and the fidgeting angel. "Cas…you're such a dork," Dean finally says, slinging an arm around his shoulders and pulling him inside. "Seriously, on Valentine's Day? Everybody's just trying to get in your wallet, buddy…"
"Well, that went…well," Kaia says with a little uncertainty, probably due to not having the misfortune of knowing these guys enough to figure out all their little nuances. A few minutes of standing there awkwardly pass before Kaia clears her throat. "Should we maybe go check on them?"
"You mean, should we spy on them from behind our menus and take advantage of those free breadsticks? Absolutely."
They share a wicked sort of smile and go inside to sit in the booth seat directly behind the happy couple, sitting where Castiel can see them (for moral support or something) but Dean can't. Not that he'd probably look away from Dean's eyes long enough to notice them or vice versa, anyway, since they're them and Claire has been in the same room as them before and knows what they're like.
"Wow. They're such dorks," she remarks as Dean, who knows full well Castiel doesn't eat, offers a spoonful of gnocchi soup, having gotten the endless soup and salad. She keeps spying on them over the top of her menu as Castiel smiles and indulges Dean anyway as Dean moves to try to toss the salad. "I think I'm gonna throw up."
"I think it's sweet."
Their own plates arrive; they'd gotten kids meals to cut the costs down a little, since Claire's seen the portion sizes Olive Garden thinks is okay to serve children. When Claire glances over at them again as she shoves half a breadstick down her throat, she sees Dean is still struggling with the weird salad tossing tongs and Castiel is still staring at him like he'd hung the moon, stars, and every other thing floating around up there.
"I'm actually going to vomit if they don't look away from each other soon." Claire looks pointedly at a waitress who's walking by before glancing back at the empty breadstick basket, only just resisting the urge to shake around the empty paper in the bottom like she's calling a cat. Her efforts are rewarded when their waitress for the night fills it back up for them a minute later. "How's the ravioli?"
"They kinda remind me of SpaghettiOs," Kaia replies as she holds a piece out on her fork. Claire's pretty sure her face instantly becomes redder than the canned marinara sauce on their plates, but tries to ignore it, distracted by how weirdly cheap the pasta tastes for an Italian restaurant. "How's the pizza?"
"Actually not bad." She gives Kaia a quarter, biting the inside of her cheek when Kaia's fingers brush against hers as she takes the piece, though she's soothed when Kaia can't seem to meet her eyes afterwards either, instead focusing too intently on her crappy ravioli. God, they're as pathetic as Dean and Castiel.
Said morons are currently eating their fill of the free breadsticks (how come their basket always has more than hers and Kaia's?), which Claire swears get saltier and saltier with every basket, surely a tactic they use to shoo anyone who's eating too many away. Obviously, they haven't accounted for people accustomed to greasy fast food and living in blood and guts and sludge. A nice shirt and a tie and anybody can fake having class. That said, Claire does stick out in her leather jacket and Kaia with her hoodie, especially in a crowd of Valentine's Day phonies and try-hards in their suits and nice dresses, but it's not like they care in the slightest.
When Dean and Castiel are finished with their meal, they pay and leave, and Kaia and Claire quickly follow them out from a safe distance, Claire pretending her face doesn't change color when Kaia grabs her hand. In the parking lot, Castiel glances back at them, and Claire uses the opportunity to raise their joined hands and point at them enthusiastically, making Kaia laugh softly.
She's not really sure what she was aiming for by doing that, but the angel nods in apparent determination and almost timidly bumps his hand into Dean's. Dean takes it without even looking, and Kaia gives a thumbs up when Castiel glances back at them in surprise and confusion, tentatively smiling like he's not sure he's doing it right.
It's stupid, really, since Dean's beloved car is, like, twenty steps away, but they hold hands for those steps and then get in to drive away. Claire hurries to her car to follow at a generous distance, figuring they're probably going back to the Bunker; admittedly, they really don't need to spy anymore, but in a way, it's like she and Kaia are on a date, too, and she's afraid the atmosphere they built might disintegrate if they go do something else.
Dean's car pulls off the winding backroad somewhat suddenly, and Claire hurries to copy, hoping she doesn't hit anything as she pulls over with her headlights off, a move Jody would surely kill her over. "What are they doing?" Kaia whispers when Dean and Castiel both get out and walk a short distance from the car. "Are they gonna kiss?"
Claire grimaces at the idea of seeing the guy in her dad's body doing anything involving…anything. She squints through the windshield at the dark pull-off ahead as Dean's hands drop to Castiel's hips and Castiel's go around Dean's neck before they both stare at each other, both lightly swaying. "What… Are they dancing?"
"I didn't know they did that."
Castiel glances down at their feet for the third time and Dean's head bumps into his shoulder, and Claire snorts, muttering, "I don't think they do." She hesitates, but rolls the window down a little. It's a little chilly out, but she barely notices as she hears surprisingly soft music playing, its tune much slower than anything Dean usually listens to, making her wonder if Castiel picked the song. "It's…kinda peaceful out here."
"Yeah…" A hand touches Claire's from where it's resting on the wheel and, powerless to do anything but, she lets Kaia take it into her own, dropping it to the space between their seats.
This is their thing. They hold hands and compare scars and even hug sometimes. They bond over good food and bad movies that make them feel better about the crappy circumstances they met under. They stay up at night and Claire lays on the floor beside Kaia and her temporary sleeping bag (beds are expensive and Jody's cabin doesn't have tons of extra room) and her back feels like it's gonna break in half when she wakes up there the next morning but she still hasn't found the courage to ask Kaia to maybe go to her bed instead of the sleeping bag.
It's their thing, like staring for obscenely long periods of time instead of ever talking about anything is Dean and Castiel's, like being complete nerds in sign language is Sam and Eileen's. Pretending they're friends seems to be Jody and Donna's thing, but Claire usually tries to ignore them when they do anything emotional.
Either way, Claire's kind of glad for the distraction no matter how confusing it is. It's a little weird to watch such an intimate and gushy moment, especially since they don't know they're there. Or at least, that's what she assumes right up until a knock at her window draws her attention away from their clasped hands and up to a grinning Dean Winchester.
"Thought you guys might wanna know we're heading back to the Bunker now. Told Sammy to get a room ready, unless you'd rather spend the night out here digesting all those free breadsticks."
Claire glances past Dean to Castiel, who shifts under her gaze and won't meet her eyes. "Feathers spill the beans?"
"Well, he kept looking over at someone the whole time, and you don't get to be a hunter in your forties by being an idiot. Or by not being able to find a reflective surface in a restaurant." Overly patronizingly, Dean pats Claire's shoulder, adding, "Can any man afford such ignorance, grasshopper?"
Claire rolls her eyes and opens her mouth to reply when she hears Kaia trying and failing to conceal her snickering. Understandably, Kaia doesn't laugh much, so also understandably, the sound is…distracting, not to mention the fact that they're still holding hands, even in the view of Dean. Not that Claire even cares what Dean thinks, anyway. He's just her…dad-substitute's boyfriend. Not-dad-in-law, even.
Still, she follows Dean's car to the Bunker (still as drafty and depressing as the last time she was there) and follows Sam and Eileen down the hall (when did they get a dog?) to the room they'd set up. Before either of them can even open the door, however, Sam runs a hand through his hair and says, "I seriously don't know how you did it, but I can't thank you enough."
"Uh…what did I do, exactly?" She glances at Kaia, but Kaia just shrugs, playing with the strings of her hoodie.
"You got Dean and Cas to finally stop doing their…non-disclosure thing. Five minutes ago, they went to the same bedroom together. Willingly. I've been trying to get them to do that for years." Sam shakes his head like he's annoyed, but the huge grin on his face spoils it. "You have no idea how many times I've thought about just pushing their faces together and locking them in the same room until they talk about it. Seriously, years."
"I've only known them for a couple of years and it's been unbearable," Eileen adds with a sigh. "It only got worse after whatever happened in the basement. At this rate, they'll be in their eighties before a wedding is on the horizon."
"Technically, Cas is hundreds of thousands of years old already," Sam says, and Eileen frowns. "They're so hopeless, but you managed to get the ball rolling."
"Now we have to put up with them being all lovey and disgusting," Claire points out. "Not much of an improvement."
"It so is. I've had to live with them, and every time something happened in their relationship, they both went to me for advice, like I'm some sort of a marriage counselor where neither party even admits their feelings." Sam's laughing, but Claire can see the true depths of despair in his eyes for all the suffering he's had to endure for well over a decade. "I still don't think either of them realize that."
"Wow." That's so them that Claire thinks she could puke. Sam has the patience of a saint. This was the guy that started one of the Apocalypses? She's surprised he didn't get both sides to sit down and talk through their problems. Forget law, dude should've been a therapist; with how much practice he's had, they could just give him the job despite his non-existent qualifications.
"Yeah," Sam replies, rolling his eyes a little before clearing his throat. "Anyway, we'll let you get settled in. Legend has it Dean's making pancakes tomorrow, so prepare your insulin shots."
"I think we'll manage," Kaia says.
Claire can't help but add, "Our bodies aren't all old and dysfunctional yet like you guys'."
Sam shoots her a look, but it makes Kaia laugh, so it's worth it. When Sam and Eileen retreat (noticeably to one room, since six people in a huge bunker apparently only need three bedrooms), Claire opens the door, where she's confronted with the fact that there's only one bed in the room.
She'd seen the inside of—well, Castiel's room, as empty and unused and depressing as it is—so she knew this before. But it hadn't mattered before. Now, though…
Claire glances at Kaia, who's already looking at her. After a moment, Kaia smiles and squeezes her hand. "Should I go ask for another room? I'm sure there are plenty."
"Oh, there are definitely more, but, uh…" Claire thinks about the day they've had and how neither of them are calling it a date, thinks about all the scheming they'd done to get Dean and Castiel together finally, thinks about breadsticks and sleeping bags and holding hands, and she somehow finds the courage to finish (but only because she doesn't want to end up like Dean and Castiel, pining for a decade straight), "we don't have to. If you don't want." She's still a coward, so she adds, "Sam's probably halfway asleep already and you couldn't pay me to knock on Dean's door when they're in the honeymoon phase."
Kaia grimaces and releases her hand, but before Claire can say anything, Kaia is flipping the blankets down and sitting on the edge to kick her shoes off. Claire goes to the other side and slowly copies the other girl after taking off her jacket, slipping her legs under the blankets afterwards and lying down, leaving the dim glow of the small bedside lamp on so that they're not in complete darkness, both having too many bad memories to sleep like that.
She knows she's going to regret wearing jeans to bed in the morning, but when she turns her head to see Kaia already looking at her, dark hair flung halfway up the pillow and hands resting on her stomach, Claire can't find it in herself to care.
Instead, she whispers, anything louder feeling too loud for the almost fragile atmosphere, "Y'know, for all that Dean talks about deluxe mattresses, I was expecting…Heaven on Earth."
Kaia smiles, whispering in response, "Either way, this thing sure beats Jody's floors."
"Not her beds, though," Claire replies without meaning to, but now that that's out there, she can't take it back. In for a penny… "Maybe next time we're up there…"
By some miracle, she doesn't have to finish the thought. "Yeah, maybe. Never know what the future holds. Life is weird like that."
Life is pretty weird. A few years ago, she hated Castiel for what he'd done, praying for her father's safe return until she realized it wasn't going to come and instead turning to cursing Castiel's very existence. Now, she's spent the whole day getting him ready to go on a date because he deserves to be happy, and at the same time, she'd ended up on a sort-of date, too.
She remembers a time where she hated Dean Winchester and everything he stood for, where she hated Castiel because he stood up for Dean even after he'd brutally slaughtered a room full of people. She remembers thinking that his even then-apparent crush was kind of pathetic, that Castiel had no right defending Dean just because he liked him. Then she'd met Kaia and she understood why. Love really does make you nuts.
It's weird. Really, Castiel shouldn't have even cared what she thought of him, having lived through so many centuries and come across so many people with so many opinions, but he had cared and he reached out. Even as Claire tried to push him away, he kept reaching out and trying to help, as annoying as it had once been.
Somewhere along the line, Castiel stopped just being an annoyance with his emojis and cheesy text stickers and air quotes that apparently carry over to text. Somewhere along the line, she stopped being bitter towards Castiel and saw his actions for what they were: a lost soul just trying to make things right. Guilt may have started their new little relationship, but it's not what holds it together, because somewhere along that line, she stopped resenting Castiel for what he'd done before and he'd slowly dropped some of the guilt and turned it into love.
Castiel may not be her father—Jimmy always will be, no matter how little time he was around—but these days, he comes pretty damn close, and Claire can't ask for much more than that.