Claire still dreamt of Castiel every night.
At first, she was dreamt the past. She was Castiel, throughout history, and boy was there a lot of it. She began to do really well in class because she dreamt it every night, and at one point got in an intense argument with her World Religions teacher about John the Baptist.
Then, the dreams began to change. These new dreams seem to be current. In them, Castiel fought heaven, the Cage where Lucifer lay was opened and the Horsemen roamed the earth. Lucifer was locked back up, and Castiel spent a year in heaven fighting Raphael. Then he paired up with the two hunters again, made a deal with the King of Hell, swallowed the souls in Purgatory, let the Leviathans out, and died. Al while wearing Jimmy's body. It was a little disconcerting, and Claire constantly had to remind herself that it wasn't her father doing those things, it was Castiel, Angel of the Lord, Warrior of Heaven, billions of years old and able to smite in a breath.
The dreams went back to the past for about a month, and then, she dreamt that Castiel came back, but couldn't remember. Castiel was Emmanuel, healer and married to Daphne. That was an extraordinarily strange period of time for Claire. She had to watch Jimmy's body be married to another woman, other than her mother. After he remembered again, Claire specifically dreamt him thinking about one of the hunters a lot – the shorter one, Dean – even more that he had before.
When Castiel and Dean were sent to purgatory, Claire realized something. After Castiel ran away, he still thought of Dean constantly. The way he thought, so fondly, reminded Claire of the way her mother spoke of her father. And that when Claire understood that Castiel was in love with Dean, whether or not he knew it.
When Dean found Castiel, Claire realized something else. Dean refused to leave without Castiel – he said, specifically, that he needed the angel. That was when Claire saw that Dean was in love with Castiel, whether or not he knew it.
She didn't tell anyone what she knew. Who could she tell, anyway? She had no way of contacting Castiel other than prayer, and there was no way she was doing that.
She saw Castiel stay in Purgatory for penance, and get let out by Naomi. She remembered each and every one of Castiel's "service trips" to Heaven and she wishes she could warn him, but she realizes Naomi would stop her, so she doesn't. She watches Castiel kill Dean hundreds of times and then almost kills Dean in real life, but stops and gets the angel tablet before vanishing.
And that is when she makes a mistake.
Moving to Industry, California, was Claire's idea.
Having been possessed by an angel, she learned a lot about the Supernatural very quickly, especially demons, and found not many monsters enjoy sunlight. So, small town in Southern Cali sounded great. They changed their name, Claire went to school, Amelia got a job. They were happy, for a while, and other than the dreams Amelia knew Claire had but never talked about, they could forget about everything. They said Jimmy died, and Claire never talked about him to anyone.
She was riding the bus home when she slipped up. Sitting next to a teenage guy, she turned to him and said hi.
"Hi. Luke Devarough." He held out his hand to shake.
"Claire Novak," she blurted before covering her mouth. "I mean, Moore. My name is Claire Moore."
He looked at her, confused. "Ummm, how did you mess up your last name?"
"It's a new name – my stepfather's." She said the first thing that came to mind. "We changed our name, only to have him run out on us. Never changed it back, just moved here. I still mess up sometimes, sorry."
He nodded, but something in his expression seemed off. "Did you say Novak?"
"Yes," she said slowly.
"Is that your mom's maiden name, or…"
For some reason, she felt compelled to tell the truth. "It was my dad's."
"Oh." He seemed surprised. "What happened to him?"
"He died," she said shortly. She did not feel like talking about it.
"Oh," he said. "Sorry." Pause. "What was his name?"
"Jimmy. Jimmy Novak," she blurted. Damn, she couldn't control her mouth, could she.
"How'd he die?"
She glared in response. The bus stopped, and she got up. "This is my stop." It really was, but she would have gotten off anyway.
He stood as well. "Really? Mine too."
They got off together, and Claire hurried off. He chased her. "Wait!"
"What," she huffed, annoyed. She'd already said too much.
"Can I walk you home?"
She rolled her eyes. "I'm fine, thanks." She stared off again.
He grabbed her arm. "Really, a young lady like you, this late? It would be courtesy."
"It's barely dark, and I can take care of myself. I'm stronger than I look," she said tightly. "Now let go or I'll have to show you."
He let her go then, and Claire practically ran the whole was home.
She'd forgotten about it within a few days.
School was tough – she was in her junior year, taking almost all AP classes and getting ready for college. She'd been hoping to go into Religious studies as a major and become a professor – with her dreams, she'd be able to tell everyone so much more. With her Finals coming up, she was studying all the time, anywhere she could.
She went to school on Monday, the week before her Finals, still stressed and studying. That morning, she'd been in such a rush to get to school she hadn't even greeted her mother past a quick "Bye, love you". Coming home late after a study session/tutoring thing she did with a couple friends, she walked inside the house and went straight to her room.
When, after 7:30, her mother still hadn't called her for dinner while they usually had dinner around six, she went to investigate. Walking into the kitchen, she saw nothing. No pots, no oven, no smells – it was like her mother never even had lunch. Her breakfast plates were still in the sink, unwashed.
That was when Claire became worried. Heading to her mother's room in their tiny two-room apartment, she opened the door.
And screamed.