A/N: Hi guys! So this has been a long time in coming. I meant to publish it before 12x18 but I've had next to no time so I had to push it back again so I'm now three weeks behind. Whoops. I'll catch up before the next episode airs hopefully. In the meantime, enjoy!
When Claire Novak was five years old she would sit on her father's lap and listen, rapt, as he told her stories of angels with their gentle smiles and soft wings. He would tell her that they watched over her to make sure she was safe and that, as long as she was good, no harm would come to her. Claire believed him. For years, she believed in the kind angels and when her father disappeared she prayed every night that they watch over him too, and bring him back to them, safe and sound.
A year later, he returned and Claire thanked the angels for listening. She was so grateful that she consented to Castiel possessing her to save her family, only to learn that what her father told her all those years ago were just stories. Angels were not kind or merciful or gentle. They didn't watch over humans or keep them safe. She cursed the angels as she watched one walk away wearing her father's body, and she resolved never to pray again.
Claire had never been very susceptible to illness growing up. She passed it off as a combination of a strong immune system and sheer force of will, but inside she knew the truth. Every time she so much as sneezed she could feel the tiny shred of Castiel's grace he left behind working away to fix her. As the years went by she hoped that it too would fade away, but no such luck. She learned to live with it, but never stopped hating it because angels don't fix things. They destroy, not rebuild. She never told anybody about it, not even Jody, because they would tell her that she should be grateful for the gift. They didn't understand. How could she be, when she knew the cost?
She never truly forgave Castiel. Every time she saw him it was like needles in her heart because it was her father's face, her father's voice, but the look in his eyes held nothing of Jimmy Novak. Deep down, she knew it wasn't Castiel's fault, but she blamed him nonetheless, if only because if she didn't she would blame herself instead.
He tried, she could see that. But whilst her father always knew what she needed, Castiel didn't. He couldn't understand how she felt, the toy cat showed that. She kept it though. It helped, but she would never admit it.
Claire hated to admit weakness. The way she saw it, being weak was what hurt her in the first place and she was determined never to be so helpless again. But that determination to be strong made her stupid, made her reckless during hunts. It was what made her walk away from Sam that day, right into the werewolf's trap. It bit her and, fuck appearances, Claire was scared. She was scared of turning into the monsters she hunted and she was scared of dying and she knew that dying was pretty much the only possibility at that point. Either she would do it herself, or Mick would, or the cure would fail and kill her anyway.
She almost died. The pain tore through her body and in her mind she begged for it all to be over. She felt her breath coming slower and slower and knew the end was near, hoped it would come quicker. Then the pain left as quick as it had come and her chest stilled and Claire waited. For what, she wasn't sure. Heaven? Whatever happens after death for monsters like her? Nothing happened, though, and that was when she felt it. It was small, but the grace flared up and set to work repairing her. She came back and when she saw the relief on Sam and Dean's faces, she knew it was worth it. Wherever he was, Castiel had saved her life so, for the first time in years, Claire sent up a prayer of thanks to the angels and hoped they heard.
A/N: Short, I know. I'll direct you to the three weeks behind if you're wondering why. I hope this was okay. Please leave a review if you have a moment. Bye!