A/N: TW: mention of debilitating depression and anxiety. Standard disclaimer. Anything relating to Supernatural is not mine, I am simply borrowing it for a while. Except my OCs. They're mine. Enjoy :)


Claire stood anxiously in the arrivals lounge of terminal three, her stomach in knots. Crowds of people surrounded her, some clutching names on cards, others bearing flowers and gifts. She felt strangely alone in this sea of human life, suspended in numb anticipation. Her eyes were fixed on the doorway through which the first few passengers were beginning to stumble, tired and weary. Some made their way directly through the crowd; regular travellers returning home. Others were leapt upon by family and friends, returning from holidays or business trips. Still more were met by taxi drivers and chauffeurs sent by companies or rich relatives.

Eventually, when the majority of the crowd had dissipated, their loved ones or colleagues in tow, two bedraggled figures appeared in the arch. Claire smothered the grin threatening to spread across her face, and gave a restrained wave. Sam, who was bodily supporting a semi-comatose Dean, gave a half wave and a smile, then went back to dragging Dean towards her. Concerned, Claire ran towards them.

"What happened? Is he ok?!" She slipped Dean's arm over her shoulder and wrapped her own around his waist. "Jesus Christ, he's heavy!" They supported him as far as a seat, where they unceremoniously dumped him, moving to stand in front of him. Sam put his hands on his hips and sighed.

"He's fine. I mean, he threw up six times in the first three hours of the flight and then slept for the last four – he smells foul, but I swear he doesn't normally." Claire began to giggle nervously, and dug into her handbag and pulled out the energy drink she'd intended on drinking earlier. Twisting the cap off, she offered it to Dean.

"Here, drink this. It'll help." He blinked at her groggily.

"Thanks." Claire raised an eyebrow, continued her struggle against the grin which was still fighting to spread from ear to ear, and pushed the bottle into his hand.

"Just get on with it." She closed her eyes for a moment and let the grin expand across her face. Opening her eyes she looked at Sam. "So, I got to meet you two, huh?" His matching grin told her everything she needed to know and she gently leant against him, as one of his arms wrapped around her shoulders. Dean took a few sips of the liquid, and slumped against the back of the seat, eyes closed. A minute or so later, he opened his eyes and took a couple more gulps from the bottle, looking significantly better than he had previously. "Oh hello, stranger." Claire's eyes were sparkling. "Ready for an hour on the road?"

"Hell yeah! I've had enough plane travel for a lifetime." He struggled upright and swayed slightly, turning vaguely grey.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Slow down, speedy." Claire instinctively moved to support him. "If you throw up on me I have to warn you that I won't have the least sympathy for you." He wrapped his arm tightly around her shoulder.

"That's fine." A worried look crossed his face. "There isn't too much walking to your car is there? I'm not sure I'm up for all this bouncing around."

"You mean walking?"

"Yeah. That. Bouncing." Sam came over to support Dean's other side.

"No, I parked in the terminal car park, but I think there's some speed bumps on the way to the motorway."

"You think. Nice to know you were paying so much attention on the way here." Sam gave her a look. "I mean seriously, what if you'd-"

"If you dare say died, Sam Winchester, the moment I'm not supporting our brother I will give you the slapping of your life." Dean let out a laugh and looked like he instantly regretted it. "And it wasn't a case of not paying attention, it's more a case of not needing to pay attention to the road surface. Traffic calming measures don't really bother me." She wasn't defending herself, not exactly. Her tone was more one of a parent explaining something for the hundredth time to a child who persists on asking the same questions and has pushed them past the point of anger. Sam winced.

"Sorry." Claire's stomach dropped. It was too soon for them to fall out over something stupid, and she was suddenly terrified that was where things were going. They'd finally left the terminal building and were about to cross the road to the car park.

"I…don't…it's ok." She bowed her head, as though it was suddenly too heavy to bear. The boys watched her, uneasy. She took a deep breath and lifted her head again. "Car?" The false brightness in her tone made Sam prick up his ears and gave Dean a shudder of unease.

"Sure." Dean squeezed her waist tighter, and she briefly leaned into him. By the time they got to the car there was an awkward silence hanging over the three of them. Dean stopped walking when he saw Claire's car – or what he assumed was Claire's car; it was the only one in the terminal car park. A look of horror crossed his face as he clocked the tiny black Toyota. "You want me to get into that-" Sam jabbed him in the ribs. "That?"

"Well, Dean, that is my car. Unless you'd rather bounce all the way home, you're going to have to get into it." Claire gave him a mischievous smile and her tone was laden with sarcasm. She swallowed. "Before we get in…I think I might have overreacted before. It's just…I spent my whole life being picked on for the smallest things I did. I defend before I recognise tone, it's what I had to do…don't- don't interrupt for a minute, Sam." Sam – who had opened his mouth to defend her – closed his mouth and looked at her. "I overreact. And I've lost friends because of it. I don't know how to make things better, and living with depression and anxiety makes it impossible for me to try. So…this is me trying to stop myself ruining things, and this is also me telling you that I'm broken, almost beyond repair – but in a completely different way to the ones you're used to." She trailed off and unlocked the car. "Let's get you in the car, Dean."

"No."

"What?" She looked at Dean askance.

"No. There's something I need to do first."

"There is?"

"Yep." He took a breath and supported himself completely, and then held out his arms to Claire. She looked at him. "I think you need a hug." She smiled and stepped into the space he'd created for her, sliding her arms around his waist and resting her cheek on his shoulder. As he carefully wrapped his arms around her, she smiled and blinked away the tears forming in her eyes. They stood that way for a moment or two then she lifted her head.

"Come on then, brothers, mine. Time for you to deal with my driving." She let out a surprising cackle and opened Dean's door. "Get in then." She looked at Sam. "You're going to have to go in the back, I'm not risking Mr Up-Chuck here in a space where the windows don't open!" Sam laughed and opened the back door, his face falling as he noticed the lack of leg room. Claire gave him a look.

"I'm a single, jobless journalist. I don't need legroom in the back. Sit behind me, my seat's further forward." As Sam was getting into the car, she slung their bags into the boot, and climbed in herself. "All buckled in?" Her brothers nodded. "Off we go then."


"I don't like being on this side of a car and not having the steering wheel," Dean complained for the fifth time in half an hour. Claire had managed to get out of Heathrow without getting lost, and they were now just passing onto the M3.

"Well, Dean, you're just going to have to get used to it." Claire had plugged her phone into the car, and they were listening to Band of Horses back catalogue. Sam was happily bobbing along with the music, but Dean was on the verge of mutiny. "Would it make you happier if I let you change the music?" He nodded gloomily. "Go on then. There's a playlist on there somewhere I think you'll like." He gingerly picked up her phone.

"How?" She glanced at him.

"Press the button on the top. Swipe to the right. At the bottom, press the red button with the musical note on it. At the bottom of that screen press playlists. There should be one called Carry on Wayward Son. Tap that, and then the first song." Dean was following her instructions, and suddenly the car was full of Kansas. Dean's face was lit by a childish smile, and the three of them had a moment of bonding as they cruised smoothly along the motorway singing loudly.

The playlist saw them all the way back to Winchester. Claire didn't immediately take them back to hers; it seemed that as soon as they pulled off the motorway, they were turning down a dark country road and barrelling along at speeds which had even Dean clinging on for dear life. Claire noticed and laughed.

"I've been driving these roads for years. There's nothing to worry about." The dark trees overhead formed a tunnel, and the darkness of the night deepened.

"Where the hell are you taking us, Claire?" Sam had ended up semi-reclined across the back seats in an attempt to calm the cramps in his legs.

"Just a place I know. It's lovely during the day, but it's truly beautiful at night." She swung confidently into a gravelled car park, and stopped the engine. "I hope you guys are up for a bit of a walk?" Dean raised an eyebrow at her.

"I'm feeling much better, thank you. I should be able to manage a walk. How 'bout you, Sam? Those mile-long legs of yours up for a walk?"

"They'll be fine once they're straight again.

"Ah, but the point of walking is to continually flex and extend your legs. It's no use if they're just straight." On a peal of laughter, Claire stepped out of the car and popped the boot open, pulling out a University of Winchester hoody, and tugging it over her head. "You two might want to find a jacket – it's a bit exposed out on the hill, and the wind can be chilly." She guided them past the barrier at the end of the car park and up a rough path edged with brambles and trees with outstretched branches.

"Is it a long walk?" Dean's stomach gave a discontented gurgle.

"Nope, only about five minutes." Claire slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow and bumped her hip into his. "Come on lazy bones, there's a bench waiting for you at the other end."

Eventually, she steered them up a gravelled hill to a double kissing gate, which she climbed over with ease. They followed her towards a large mound topped with a pyramidal monument, which she looked at with fondness then walked straight past. She headed for a bench overlooking the downs and sat down at one end. When Sam and Dean caught up with her and stood on either side of her, she slid to the middle of the bench, and they sat down with her.

"So…why are we here?" Sam had slung his arm around the back of the bench and twisted to look at her. Dean was focussing on taking deep breaths and settling his stomach. Claire dug in her bag and found some peppermint polos which she offered to Dean.

"They'll help." Dean grunted his thanks. "I just thought it'd be good to spend some time together somewhere it isn't completely claustrophobic like my flat. The outdoors is good for getting to know each other." Sam tilted his head on one side and smiled at her.

"A good plan. What is this place anyway?"

"Farley Mount. The monument's dedicated to the horse buried under the mound."

"A horse?"

"Yup, a horse named 'Beware Chalk Pit'!"

"Someone named their horse that?"

"They did indeed." Claire leant back against the bench and gazed out over the dark valleys in front of her. "You know you can see the sea from here?" Her hands sketched the form of the land before them. "Over there's Fawley Refinery – I've always thought it looks like a huge cigarette butt, stubbed out by a disgruntled giant. And a bit further that way you've got Southampton docks, and Southampton Water. The other way you've got Eastleigh, and that stream of lights is the M3. And behind us is Winchester, but it's all hidden behind the woods." The boys relaxed into the moment, as Claire stopped her geography lesson and lapsed into thoughtful silence, one hand tucked in Dean's elbow, the other resting between her and Sam. "You know, about this time last year I came out here with one of my friends and enacted the story of Beware Chalk Pit. I don't think I've ever been more embarrassed in my life." The boys couldn't help but smile at the idea of Claire – awkward and nerdy, with glasses and flyaway hair – galloping around in public pretending to be a horse. "But anyway, I've just found the family I never thought I'd have, and I have no idea where to begin." Sam caught her free hand in one of his, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles.

"Start where feels natural."

"Everything feels natural, that's the problem. It might be because I've read those damnable books, but I don't think it's that – and it's not like I read all of them anyway, just the ones my editor suggested."

"Where would you start if we were people you'd just met – at uni or something?"

"Oh, I always kept things strictly business with people at uni unless we particularly got on. I kinda…made friends in first year and never made any more after that…I've never been very good at getting to know people or making friends." She paused. "It's almost like I give off this vibe – like people take one look at me and think I'm weird." The boys frowned at her.

"I doubt that's true. I didn't look at you and think you were weird. I knew you were weird, but that's a different thing altogether." Dean squeezed the hand closest to him.

"Yes, but you're not coming at me from a student's perspective – especially not a student who doesn't know me. I spent my free time researching local paranormal activity, and studying local history, hiking the downs and exploring the geography of it all first hand. They spent their free time getting drunk and having sex. Not that that's a bad thing. It's just not what I did."

"Paranormal activities?"

"I've always had a bit of a thing for the occult. I have rune stones and a Tarot deck which I use for divination, and I meditate a lot. Looking at the paranormal seemed to be the next step on."

"When you say paranormal, you mean?"

"Ghosts, bogeymen, barrow wights…there's a whole host of Celtic mythology and symbolism around here. Winchester used to be a Pagan hub, and there are stories that Winchester was Camelot from the King Arthur legends." The boys sat up straighter on their bench.

"You've done research?" Claire frowned, confused.

"Yes…should I not have done research?" Her brothers exchange significant looks over the top of her head. "What?"

"You truly are a Winchester, aren't you?"

"Well…yes…"

"You weren't even raised a hunter and you still sought it out." Sam sounded a combination of impressed and resigned. "The genes are strong in this one." Claire giggled at his Yoda impression.

"Enough cold, late-night getting to know each other?" Dean was beginning to shiver.

"Alright, if you've had enough we can head back, ok?" He nodded somewhat frantically.

"I'm not entirely sure I can feel my butt."