Supernatural: Endgame
Chapter 7
Sam had just finished locking the door to the motel room when the blonde girl heaved a tremendous sigh, and sat with a flump on the end of the dingy bed. He took a seat in a chair across from her and smiled encouragingly.
"Ok," he started. "What you said on the phone, about being followed, do you know who these people are?"
Claire's eyes shifted to the side as she chewed on her lower lip. "No, I've got no idea who they are. And I might have…sort of…embellished? A little?"
Sam scratched at his temple, dreading even asking what she meant by that. "Claire…"
"No, I mean," she sighed. "Let me start over. They're not actually following me. For weeks I've been having these dreams. Nightmares, really. This man keeps telling me I'm important, I'm important and he needs me. And then I explode. But not like normal, you know? It's like…like a really bright white light. Like…with Castiel."
Sam regarded her with curiosity, wondering if it was simply her subconscious remembering the ordeal of her childhood when her family was ripped apart, or if this was some new terror for the teenager. He figured he'd better find out.
"You're sure you don't know the man? Can you describe him?"
"Short. Curly hair," she thought for a moment, then scrunched up her face. "Really bad teeth."
Sam didn't have to think very hard to land on who, exactly, that sounded like. He closed his eyes. "Metatron."
"Yeah!" Claire exclaimed. "Yeah, that's him!"
"Great," Sam said with an eye roll. "Anything else happen in these dreams of yours?"
"Umm…" she said, thinking. "Yeah. Actually, the last few times, after I go all Big Bang, these people start chasing me, and they've got these long silver blades. So I turn and I run. And that's when I wake up. But the thing is, the reason I called you. Two nights ago, I saw one of them."
"Did they see you?"
"No, at least I don't think they saw me. If they did, they didn't react at all. I came back here and called you. I haven't left the room since."
"Good," Sam said, rising from his chair. "Pack up your things, we're leaving in five."
While Claire threw what few belongings she had with her into a duffel, Sam ventured outside to the car to fill Dean in on the situation.
"So the chick has a few nightmares, now we gotta be babysitters?" he grumbled.
"Dean, you know as well as I do that this probably means Metatron is looking for a way to get to her," Sam countered.
"Meta-douche. I'm getting real tired of this guy. The hell's he want with a teenage girl anyway? I mean apart from the obvious," Dean smirked.
"Really dude? Gross. And I don't think it's his need for teenage girl as much as it is his need for Claire herself. Think about it, Dean. When an angel possesses a vessel they leave behind some of their grace. Castiel possessed Claire, and I'm betting that grace is what he's looking for. Although to do what? I've got no clue. I just want to get her back to the bunker where she's safe, then we can work out details."
Just then Claire came bounding out of the motel room, threw her bag at Sam, smiled smugly up at Sam and chirped "Shotgun." Sam gave a side-eyed glance at Dean, and folded himself into the backseat.
On the drive, Claire filled the guys in on what had been happening in the life of the Novak's since Castiel had taken over their patriarch. Apparently, her mother, Amelia, had gone full rebel: booze, pills, late nights out with God-knows-who. Claire had rarely seen her over the first 4 years, and midway through her sophomore year of high school she had disappeared for two whole weeks. When she finally showed up at 3 P.M. on the 16th day, disheveled and wreaking of vodka, Claire had packed a few belongings and taken off. She'd been on her own ever since, sleeping in whatever warm place she could come across. Whenever she ran out of money, she managed to pick up a job waiting tables or washing dishes for a couple of weeks, sleeping in the backroom, keeping her tips stuffed in the bottom of her duffel until she had enough to move on. It hadn't been a great existence, but she'd been fine with it. Until the nightmares started up.
Sam listened attentively, but his mind was working a mile a minute as he processed the teenager's story. He knew that eventually Cas was going to be a part of this, and that he was going to be around. What he didn't know was how Claire was going to react to that. Sure, Cas was a decent enough guy. He tried hard. Granted, he tried hard at some supremely wrong things, but he meant well. But he had taken the girl's father from her, and for all intents and purposes, had killed him. His body was still there, just fine as you please, but whatever was left of her father had long since moved on to…Sam wasn't quite sure. He cleared his throat.
"Claire, you know…we've got some things going on, things that we've been trying to take care of for a while now, and…" He paused. "I just didn't know how you'd feel about…Castiel."
She stilled in the front seat, staring out the passenger window at the wheat fields flying by.
Sam continued, "I mean, he's not there right now, but that doesn't mean he won't be soon. And I'm not sure for how long…"
Claire sighed, and turned to face him. "I can't say he'll be my new favorite playmate, Sam, but…I'll try to deal, ok? I mean, the man did turn my life to crap, so…" She tipped her head for a moment. "That's not really right though, is it, calling him a man? So what then? Angel? Dickwad?"
Dean guffawed from the driver's seat, smacking his hand on the steering wheel. "That's Cas, man. Dickwad of the Lord."
Claire grinned at him, then sobered as she turned back to Sam. "I promise I will behave, as long as he keeps his distance, ok?"
Good thing, Sam thought, as he glanced down to see the text Cas had sent in response to his request to get his butt back to the bunker ASAP. It read "I shall be waiting" (and was accompanied by a selfie of Cas, grinning from ear to ear, in front of the library shelves). Sam felt bad for lying to the girl, but while listening to Claire's story about her nightmare, he had a stroke of genius. He knew how to get Castiel's grace back.
