Chapter 1
The motorcycle's roar lowers to a growl until the girl turned it off. She swung her leg over the side, dismounting and taking off her helmet, but not the sunglasses.
She is dressed in carpenter jeans and a button plaid shirt covered by a leather jacket. Her small feet are covered by brown rodeo boots. Her hands are dressed in fingerless gloves. Her nails are short and cracked. She wears no makeup on her face, save mascara and some gloss. Her blonde hair is pulled back in a braid.
A silver cross shines in the sunlight against her breast. On her wrist is a charm bracelet with various symbols: the cross, a rose, a star of David, a taiji, and a couple of useless charms like a cat and a heart and a flower.
But one was a star circled by a sun.
Removing her glasses, she entered the roadside bar and sat at the bench, leaning on the table with her elbow and her head propped up by her hand.
"What can I do you for?" The barkeep asked, a smile on his scrawny face.
"I'm looking for Garth," she said.
"Claire Novak?"
"You're Garth?" Claire asked, raising an eyebrow. "You don't look like a retired hunter."
"I'm not retired," he said. "I own the place. Need to have pocket money for travels, right?"
Claire shrugged. "What do you have for me?"
Garth grabbed a behind him and handed it to her. Claire opened it. "He's not in here."
"You said you wanted the Winchesters. That is Dean Winchester at a gas station in Nebraska."
"I know its Dean Winchester. And Sam's there behind him," she pointed at a shadow sitting in the black car, but where is Castiel."
"Castiel?"
Claire glanced at him. Garth didn't know about angels? Well, fine. Let him be oblivious. "Castiel is, for lack of a better word, their partner."
"Not everyone survives working with them."
"Isn't that true for every one of us," Claire stated, smirking at him. She stood and opened her wallet, handing Garth a couple hundred dollar bills. She walked out of the bar, fixing her glasses and helmet back on.
Her motorcycle roared to life and she headed to the minimart and gas station in Nebraska.
#
Dean yawned. Sam slept peacefully in the back seat, covering his eyes with a cowboy hat. He pulled into a motel and parked the car. Sam sat up, fixing his hat. "Why'd you pull over?"
"Need sleep," Dean said, getting out of the car. Sam followed after him, grumpily rubbing his eyes. He waited outside by the car while Dean got the room. A motorcycle pulled in around the same time. Sam watched the young girl curiously.
She was young. College student young. What was she doing here? Winter break wasn't for a few weeks. She looked at Sam who averted his gaze from her.
"You got old, Sam," she said, leaning against her motorcycle. Sam double backed at her.
"Do I know you?"
"I've changed quite a lot since we last met," she said, She removed her helmet. "Then again, we didn't meet. Castiel took over me for a few minutes to save your asses."
"Oh my God," Sam said, straightening. Dean exited the registration office. "Claire Novak?"
Dean paused and looked at Claire.
"Where's my father?" she asked.
The Winchesters stared at Claire. Sam looked at Dean, who couldn't bring himself to look away from Claire.
"Where is he?" she repeated.
"Claire, you didn't get into hunting because of Cas, did you?"
"Yes, I'm a hunter," she snapped. "You can't expect me not to be one after what happened to my family that night. It took a while and a lot of fucking research and practice, but I am a hunter. Now tell me where my dad is."
The brothers were silent for a long time. Finally, Sam spoke up.
"Dean, tell her."
Dean looked at Sam, who motioned to Claire with his head.
Dean sighed. "You don't want to know." He opened the trunk and pulled out a couple bags. "Trust me, Claire. It's best you don't know what happened to Cas."
"I'm not a child!" Claire shouted, lunging at Dean. Sam restrained her.
"And I don't think your dad would want you to know what happened to him," Dean said, closing the trunk. "I won't give you details, but your dad died seven years ago with Cas."
Claire stomped on Sam's foot and rammed her fist into his nose. Sam groaned, backing away. Claire seized Dean's shirt and pinned him against the Impala.
"You're lying!" she shouted, shaking Dean. "My dad isn't dead! Neither is Castiel!"
"Claire, I was there when he died. I tried to save him. He died fighting."
Sam furrowed his brow at Dean, which was a little hard to do with a bloody nose.
"Then why," Claire hissed, "do I feel so strongly that he's alive?"
"Claire, I saw him die. I'm sorry, but your intuition is wrong."
Claire released Dean and shoved him against the car again walking into the registration office.
"She doesn't believe you."
"She's pretty smart to not believe me."
"That's why I told you to tell her the truth," Sam snapped, taking his own bag from Dean. "Which room are we?"
Claire exited the office and glared at them. They went to their room. Once inside, they locked the door.
"Dean why didn't you tell her the truth?"
"If I told her the truth, she'd look for a way in. She's got that look."
Sam stared at Dean. "What look?"
"Remember when we were looking for Dad? It's the same look you had on your face that's on hers."
"You don't know that she'll run into Purgatory," Sam said.
"Would you have back then?"
"Yes, but…"
"She's lost someone, and it's not her dad. Maybe her mom. Maybe a boyfriend. It wasn't what happened that night that got her into the life."
Sam peered outside. Claire was outside her room, a cigarette in her mouth.
"Regardless what happened to get her into hunting, we exposed her to the life first. We made her. She deserves the truth, Dean. She's hardly a little girl anymore."
Dean snickered. "A little young for you, though, Sammy."
Sam closed the blinds. "Shut up, Jerk."
Dean smiled. "Bitch."
"I think we're getting a little old for childish insults, don't you?"
"Never."
#
He's not dead. I can feel it.
Claire blew the smoke out of her mouth, sighing.
He's not dead.
She saw shades move and looked at the room Sam and Dean had acquired. Did they think she was that easy to get rid of? She wasn't going anywhere without them until she got the truth out of Dean.
The earth quaked under her feet. She braced herself in the doorway, dropping her cigarette. The shaking stopped.
Sam and Dean exited their rooms. A black cloud rolled overhead.
"SHIT!" She heard Sam shout.
"THIS ISN'T GOOD!" Dean answered.
Claire stared at the black smoke, fingering her charm bracelet. For the last five or six years, there had been no sign of demonic activity. No one could explain it that well, but a lot of people guessed that somehow the demons had been banished from the earth and trapped back in hell.
One of the demons landed on the ground in the middle of the parking lot.
He took on corporeal form.
Claire stared at the demon, bewildered. Demons don't take corporeal form. They can't without possessing someone. But this demon took on corporeal form without possessing anyone here. (Not that he could.)
"Ah!" he said, "it's good to be back!"
Red eyes stared at Claire then shifted, looking for others. He spotted Sam and Dean. "Hello, boys," he said. "Long time no see."
He blinked and his red eyes turned to the normal black eyes that the corporeal body owned.
"Strange, isn't it?" he said, approaching them. "We weren't able to do this before, right? Most of them still can't."
"Crowley."