Claire had been wandering the streets of town for a couple of hours. She had only been there for a couple of months, and spent most of that time sulking in her room, but now that Castiel had reverted to his old, selfish ways and gone out with the principal, she felt like she actually had some freedom.
She had never felt like that with her mother. They had had a good relationship, and when Amelia started to get sick Claire had been there, looking after her. It was only once she was gone that Claire had pierced her nose, bought black clothes and started to overdo the eyeliner. And on these streets on a busy Saturday night, they felt like a kind of armour, protecting her from douchebags.
The town was one of those quaint little ones, full of rustic style stores and throwbacks to the fifties, like her dad's book store. Which meant that there was nothing good to do when you were nearly sixteen and unable to drive and living downtown over a store. Claire found her way to a cheesy retro diner, and once she established that her dad wasn't in there, went inside and ordered a burger and curly fries with a chocolate shake. Her food had just arrived and she was taking a huge bite out of her burger when Alex walked in with a couple of other popular kids. She groaned internally and focused back on her meal, hoping they didn't see her, or try to talk to her. She was officially done with people.
But she was also completely out of luck, because Alex separated from her friends and sat opposite Claire, ordering a salad and a diet soda. Claire studiously ignored her.
"Do you even have a home?" Alex asked once her coke was put in front of her. Claire flipped her off, confident that there was no one to punish her without her father or any teachers nearby. "Because my friends were wondering if you lived in the trash somewhere."
"When someone gives you the finger, it means go away," Claire muttered, and scooped ketchup onto a curly fry before taking a bite.
"That's cute. I was going to say, my foster mom will take you in. She's called Jody. She's cool."
"Tempting." Claire took a huge bite of her burger, and then talked around her mouthful. "I live with my dad."
"Not your mom?" Alex actually seemed concerned. But Claire wasn't prepared to talk about her mom with the stuck up cheerleader in front of her, so she returned to her meal and tried to pretend Alex didn't exist. But Alex didn't take the hint, instead sitting there and chattering away, and waving at their English teacher when he walked in.
"Oooh, look who got dumped by his brother boyfriend!" Alex whispered.
"You believe that crap?" Claire wrinkled her nose.
"Ohmigod, you're new, you don't know. They have a totally weird relationship."
"Mr Winchester?" Claire called him over. He came over slowly, pushing his long hair back behind his ears.
"Claire, Alex, I didn't know you were friends." He gave them a smile.
"Oh, we're totally not. But Alex here was saying you're dating the principal. Is that why you're both Mr Winchester?"
She blinked innocently up at him, daring him to mention where Dean Winchester was. Apparently Mr Winchester didn't break that easily, or help with the gossip that much.
"He's my brother," their English teacher frowned. "And I'm picking up my girlfriend, she works here and her shift is about to finish."
Claire smirked, and bit into a fry, raising her eyebrows at Alex.
"That doesn't sound like he's with the principal?"
Alex rolled her eyes, as their English teacher hovered. Claire supposed he wanted to say something else, maybe tell them off for gossiping about the teachers or to ask Claire if Dean was with her father, but he remained quiet. After a few more moments, he drifted off to the counter where he had been aiming for when he first came in. Alex leaned forward across their table.
"What are you doing?"
"What are you doing? I was sitting here, enjoying my food, and then you came all up in my business."
"And it was sad, you sitting here all alone, eating the first hot meal in forever. I felt sorry for you."
Claire gave her another dirty look and returned to her burger. She didn't have to put up with perfect Alex and the way she rubbed her perfect life in Claire's face. Alex could sit there all she wanted, to Claire she didn't exist. She was so sick of this town already.
As soon as she finished her burger, she threw down some of the bills Castiel had given her, and walked out, shoving her hands into the pockets of her jacket and hunching her shoulders up as she walked, not really aiming for anywhere but just feeling the need for motion. She could feel her chest aching, and she didn't want to let thoughts in about her mother, her dad's abandonment, any of it. If she did, she would break down and she was sick of being upset, sick of all the pity, and sick of feeling like her mother was the only one who ever wanted her.
But she couldn't stop herself from going over and over it, and she collapsed in the gazebo that stood in the middle of the town's square, hiding behind one of the panels and letting herself sob, curling up into a tight ball and hoping the mood would pass soon.
She had been there for maybe twenty minutes when she heard someone walk up the wooden steps into the gazebo and stop, clearly looking at her. She tried to cry silently, which just gave way to hiccups, and she was mad at herself to giving in to the pain.
"Claire?" The person said gently. A person who sounded a lot like her English teacher. Of all the people to witness her break down. "Are you okay?"
"Fine." She said bluntly, though it was ruined by a hiccup a moment later.
"Anything you want to talk about?" She heard him sit on the steps in front of her, blocking her into the gazebo.
"No."
"Is this about, you know, my brother?"
She didn't understand why he wasn't getting the hint that she didn't want to talk about anything. Not with him, and not with anyone else. She made herself breathe, trying to get rid of the hiccups, putting all her focus onto that.
"I mean, I did wonder why you were asking about that stupid rumour when I thought you knew … is that what's bugging you?"
"Go away, Mr Winchester."
"Call me Sam. Outside of school." He shifted on his step. "And please don't tell me to go away. It's late, it's not that near the book store, you're upset and at the very least you should let Eileen and me walk you home."
"Don't you mean Eileen and I?" Claire said from behind her hair.
"Are you trying to teach me English now?" He sounded amused. "No, I don't. You use what makes sense in a sentence when you remove the other names. You should let I walk you home? No. Doesn't work."
"Your girlfriend doesn't say much." Claire muttered.
"Only because she can't read your lips right now." He sounded amused. "And I'm not looking at her, so she can't read mine either. You're not refusing a walk home though, so let's go."
She uncurled herself and took a peek through her hair. He was offering a hand to help her up, and one of the waitresses who hadn't served her table stood just beyond him, looking concerned. Claire gave an exasperated huff but scrambled to get up, ignoring Sam's hand, and avoiding his girlfriend's eye contact. But even her black mood couldn't dent Sam's happy one. He bounced up and put an arm around his girlfriend, kissing her temple protectively. It was like a punch in Claire's gut. It was the same thing Castiel had done a few hours before. She watched as Eileen looked up at Sam smiling, and he explained what they were doing. She nodded, and looked at Claire.
"You live at the bookstore?"
Claire gave a short nod, and Eileen grinned at her.
"Sam's always loved it in there. When he's reading a book, he turns more deaf than me."
Claire did a double take. She thought Sam had been joking, but clearly not. Eileen didn't seem to care about her handicap, or about Sam giving some teenage girl attention, and that was enough for Claire to start walking with them through the town square and along the path that would lead to the bookstore that was her new home. They didn't bother her as they walked, and she felt herself calming down, her grief giving way to an aching sadness. It didn't seem real, that she was walking through this town she barely knew, with two near strangers, on the way to her father's new place when he wasn't even there. And there was no chance of going back to the place that had been her home, because her mom wasn't even there and someone else lived in that house now and her friends didn't even bother to talk to her online. So why not walk with her teacher of two weeks and his girlfriend that she just met?
"Claire?" Sam interrupted her internal dialogue, his voice hesitant. "Why did you ask about me and my brother in the diner?"
"Because it's a stupid rumour and Alex is pathetic for buying into it." Claire growled.
"Most people do," Sam sighed.
"Then they're all stupid." She thrust her hands into her jacket again, and tried to keep her anger down. Sam hadn't earned it. She would store it up and release it on Castiel.
"So, I take it you're not exactly making friends?"
"Ugh," Claire made sure he could see her eye roll. "I get this from dad, I get this from Dean, I don't need it from you as well, okay?"
"Okay," Sam held up the hand that wasn't wrapped around Eileen in defence. "I'm just concerned."
"Yeah, well, don't worry. I'm not going to accidentally burn this school down." She jutted out her chin. "And that was an accident, at the other school."
Sam grimaced, but said nothing. Even though it was obvious to Claire that her principal had at least ratted her out, even if Sam didn't want to admit it.
"Do you guys even have confidentiality with students?"
"Of course we do. But the school board reassured all the teachers you were assigned to at the start of the semester that it shouldn't happen again."
"And what to do if it does?" Claire snorted with the anger she was trying to keep at bay. "If I had tried to set that fire I would have made sure my dad was there."
There was a long, ugly pause.
"Claire, do you hate him that much?" Sam sounded concerned.
"Whatever."
"Claire," Sam pushed.
"I know my way back now. I'll be fine. Go on your date or whatever."
"Claire, please say that was some bad taste joke or something. Because I'm going to have to report it if you weren't."
Sam had stopped walking, Eileen looking up at him with her expression full of worry. Though she hadn't heard the words, she would have felt Sam speaking, would have acknowledged every movement he made. Claire stopped a few steps in front, turning around slowly.
"Report it? Didn't I just clear my name with the fire?"
"It sounded like you were threatening your dad."
"And you think I'm capable of that?"
Sam rubbed his face tiredly.
"Kids your age have committed mass murder. Kids younger than you have slaughtered adults."
"I don't mean my age. I mean me. Do you think that little of me?"
"Do you think that little of your father?"
They were at a stalemate, Claire could tell. And she was done with the evening. All she wanted to do was crawl into bed and stare blankly at BoJack Horseman until she fell asleep. And to get there, she had to tell Sam what he wanted to hear.
"Sam, I was kidding. Geez, get a morbid sense of humour and take a joke."
"You think death is funny?" Sam was incredulous.
"Well, my mom died and left me with a dad who showed how little he cared six years ago, so if that's not a joke I don't know what is. Don't judge me for how I'm dealing with this."
Sam pursed his lips, but nodded.
"Okay. It's your process. It's not funny, but I'll let it go. We're still walking you to your door."
Claire shrugged, and turned around, heading to the apartment entrance behind the store. This time she ignored Sam and Eileen, and dug into her purse for her keys. She opened the door and turned back to them.
"So, bye."
"Take care, Claire," Sam nodded, and his eyes flickered up to the apartment.
"There's no gun up there, no matches. I don't even have a candle. You can chill out."
"Are you going to be home alone?" Eileen asked. Claire had forgotten that she could speak, she'd been so quiet while Claire had argued with Sam.
"It's fine. I prefer it that way."
Sam and Eileen traded a look, Eileen nudging Sam before he took a card out of his pocket and handed it over.
"If you need someone to talk to," Sam offered. "Eileen's a great person to text."
Claire took the card, and went inside, hurrying up the stairs and peeking out the window to see if they were still there. They were, their hands flying as they spoke to each other silently. Claire didn't know any sign language, but she knew Sam was catching his girlfriend up. They glanced up once their hands stilled, and Claire waved, watching them slowly walk away. She carried on looking out, at all the other apartment entrances and the skips at the part where the stores doubled back around, at the rickety fire escapes and the way the roofs blocked out the stars. A few minutes later, a sleek black car pulled close to the house, and Claire could see Castiel and Dean talking in the front seat, not daring to look away from each other. And then they reached across at the same time, their lips meeting effortlessly, their cheeks wrinkling as they pushed closer together. She watched her dad put his hand at the back of the principal's head, tugging him closer, leaning further over. Dean's hands were nowhere to be seen, and Claire figured they were on her dad's hips.
But just as they were getting into it, they seemed to jump away, and Claire ducked down just before they looked at the window. She crawled over to her room and into her bed, putting Netflix on and throwing her clothes into her laundry bag, snuggling under the covers just before Castiel knocked on her door and entered anyway.
"Hey Claire Bear," he whispered. "How was your evening?"
She kept watching the show she had put on, some Nickelodeon reject that she had to commit to now. He waited a few moments, and when he didn't get a reply, carried on.
"The store's closed tomorrow. I was thinking we could do something together. Some father-daughter bonding. Like when we went to that pottery painting place together, remember?"
Claire shrugged, and he gave her a gentle smile.
"Okay. Well, good night Claire. And thank you for putting your trash away. You can keep the change by the way."
She waited until he had turned around, and started to shut the door.
"Are you going to see him again?"
"Dean?" Castiel asked redundantly. "Yes, I will be. It was a wonderful date. I'll tell you more tomorrow."
He closed the door, and Claire curled up with her comforter, turning Netflix over to something more watchable.