Fandom Supernatural
Chapter Character(s)/Pairing(s) Amelia, Claire, Jimmy; Jimmy/Amelia
Genre Dark/Drama/Family/Fantasy/Het/Revenge/Supernatural
Rating PG-13
Word Count 1588
Disclaimer Supernatural c. Kripke, CW, WB
Summary At first Claire blamed Castiel and then God for her father abandoning the family, yet the more she thought about it, the more Dean Winchester appeared to be not only the right person to blame, but the only entity she could eliminate to prevent Castiel from harassing her family ever again.
Warning(s) ideologically sensitive, spoilers for all seasons
Chapter One, in which Jimmy returns to his family and Claire realizes what she must do to keep him put.
Notes I've been meaning to write this story for a while, but the words wouldn't come to me until recently. I decided to peg Claire as about thirteen in the episode she appeared in because I bet you can't be possessed by an angel without being at least thirteen-years-old. I also have chapter two completed and am half-way through chapter three. I think this story should be somewhere between four and six chapters.
Vindictive Lamb
Chapter One
It had been over a year since Claire Novak's possession by Castiel. Claire and her mother Amelia were living on the eastern coast of the United States now, surrounded by lore and a large fishing industry. According to Amelia, Claire's job during the school year was her studies, but during the summer, Claire tried to find what work she could. Amelia was working two jobs and taking university classes on the side. It kept Amelia out of the house except for Sundays when she would drag Claire to church, thinking that as long as they remained faithful everything would turn out all right in the end.
Claire was uncertain about church. There they recited from a book that was a mistranslation of a translation while following rituals that seemed antiquated and in need of reevaluation. There was no mention of angel possessions. There were no assurances that her father was out there somewhere alive and safe. There was no way of knowing, no matter how long she stood up at the rafters of the church to try and glimpse God, that her life would ever return to normal.
At first, she blamed Castiel. Yet, he, for lack of a better pronoun, was just a pawn in some larger game. She could still remember the conversations and events that occurred during her possession. She remembered the angels whispering to her when she was one with them. They were all one big football team filled with jerks with muscles the size of their heads trying to impressed their absent coach. After a few months of being unable to find satisfaction in blaming Castiel, Claire blamed God. Even then, however, it did not last. Did God control genetics? Maybe He just let things go like dominoes and her father and she were just unlucky all these generations later. Besides, blaming God did not give her anything tangible to scream at or question. How could a person lash out at a burning bush? How could a person lash out at sunshine? At rain? Claire really could never figure it out.
Therefore, after about six months in the small New England town, she came to blame Dean Winchester. He had been rather cute, so blame came slowly. Yet, as she moved from being a seventh grader to an eighth grader, she felt like everything became clearer. Castiel liked Dean and he liked him a lot to the point of denial. She knew why Castiel vacated her father's body and why he had been punished. Sometimes the few images of the torture she gleaned from their shared consciousness invaded her nightmares. She also learned Castiel had taken her father in the first place because Dean had gone to Hell. Everything came back to Dean, spurring Claire to formulate a plan over the past three months.
A loud thump in her mother's bedroom startled the teen from her plotting. Her mother would not be back from work for two more hours. Everything was dark except a hallway light downstairs and Claire's own desk light. Claire slowly reached down and grabbed the broom she kept near her feet. It was the best weapon she could have in the house without raising suspicions about its unorthodox purpose. Claire listened but for a long moment, but there were no subsequent noises. She got up and kept the broom close to her.
The hallway was dark. She head the springs of her mother's bed creak, but if Amelia had come home, she would have said something. Even when Claire was asleep, she heard her mother speaking through her door so Claire would not get suspicious of noise in the house. Claire winced when she slid her hand against the broom handle and came away with a splinter. She stared at her mother's closed door and watched the knob turn. She prepared to lash out, but the broom fell from her hands and clattered to the floor. The man in the doorway's clothes were worn and the scent of stale alcohol, months of sweat, and other unpleasant smells clung to him like a bum. He stared at her a long moment.
"Claire…?" His eyebrows drew together and his face twitched as though he might cry.
"Dad!" Claire wrapped her arms tightly around Jimmy's waist and buried his face into his shoulder. Even if he was scruffier and smellier than she had ever known him, she knew it was Jimmy and not Castiel instantly.
Jimmy returned the hug tightly. He kissed the crown of her head. "Where's…?"
"Work." Claire reluctantly let her father go when his stomach rumbled loudly. "I can whip something up." She turned to the stairs. "Mom will be home in a couple hours." The home was a two story duplex with two bedrooms and a narrow staircase that led down to a parlor and entryway. When they turned left, they entered the kitchen, which had a dining room off to its left that connected back to the parlor. Claire began pulling down the ingredients for spaghetti. She filled a pot half way with water and set it to boil. Chewing on her lip, she glanced over at Jimmy who was getting a drink. "So…uh…Castiel…?"
"Went to Heaven." Jimmy turned the faucet all the way to cold as cold it could get. "My service is over."
Months passed. Fitting back into the family they once were was impossible, but slowly new dynamics took hold and became normal. Jimmy eventually found a job working in the advertising department of the local government. Amelia kept one of her jobs and moved to a day shift. Claire came home from school and there were family dinners again.
Claire had friends one of whom could drive and they went to all the basketball games for something to do on the weekends. Their school pulled students in from all over the county was set to go to the state basketball championships that spring. The championships were a few hours away in the capitol of the state and Claire would be due back late that night. The championships had been fun especially with friends goofing around in the bleachers even if their high school lost. Creeping into the house at a quarter to midnight, Claire debated announcing her presence but hushed voices from the kitchen made her pause. Claire closed the door quietly and removed her snow boots, careful not to make a sound. Then she made her way to the stairwell and sat down. From there she could almost make out what her parents were saying.
"…Jimmy." The rickety wooden kitchen chair creaked when Amelia shifted her weight on it. "I'm trying – "
"I know," Jimmy interrupted. "You don't have to accommodate this. It'll eventually even out."
"When?" Amelia paused and then asked again, "When does it end? When you crash the car asleep at the wheel? Jimmy, you're taking sleeping pills and not sleeping. You need to talk to someone about this."
"Who?" Jimmy's chair creaked and then there was footsteps pacing on the linoleum floor. "Any good doctor will just toss me in with all the crazies."
Amelia's footsteps joined him. By the squeak in the floor, Claire estimated that they were standing somewhere near the kitchen window. Amelia spoke something too quiet for Claire to hear. Jimmy responded, his murmur sounding apologetic. It was a variation on an argument Claire caught sections of ever since her father returned to them. He was not sleeping due to something related to his experiences with Castiel was keeping him awake. She knew that one night he woke screaming as though something was trying to rip his heart out of his chest. She knew that many times whether she was getting a drink in the middle of the night or waking up earlier than usual to get to school for a project or something that Jimmy was always awake as though he had been up a long time before she appeared.
Claire took a moment and then walked over to the door and opened it before closing it again. "I'm home," she called out as though trying to avoid waking anyone who might be upstairs.
"We're in the kitchen," Amelia called out.
Claire put her gloves in the pockets of her coat before hanging it up and entering the kitchen. Her parents stood near each other by the sink. Her mother had her back to the stove and her father was leaning on the kitchen counter with his back to the window.
"How were the games?" Jimmy asked. He still looked rough around the edges and his eyes were dark and sagging.
"It was…basketball," Claire offered and retrieved a ration of milk. "I'm going to head to bed." She looked between her parents. When Jimmy reappeared, she told herself she would not extract revenge against anyone. What was the point if the reason for the revenge was now undone? However, the more she watched her father struggle with normal life, the greater the temptation to enact her plan became. He was barely clinging to the job he had, the only proof he slept was the fact he still was alive. Although, Claire was not certain that outside forces might keep her father alive so Castiel would have a vessel. She certainly was never going to say yes to that angel ever again. She also could not let Castiel repossess her father, and there might be only one way to keep that from happening.
Claire Novak had to get rid of Dean Winchester.
To be continued…