A/N: Well dear readers, announcing the winner of our ' Character Write-In Contest'...

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EmilyAnnMcGarrettWinchester!

Congrats EmilyAnn!

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MarionLuth and I have been working on her original character where she's interacting with the three Winchester siblings, Claire and Cas. You'll all meet her in Chapter 21.

And...Thank You to all of you who frequently give us reviews. You are like family to us.

Now, without further ado, we give you Chapter 20. A Personal Milestone for us as a writing duo.

Enjoy,

MarionLuth & LauWhisperer


Chapter 20

No Retreat, Baby, No Surrender

Title credit: Lyrics from song "No Surrender", by Bruce Springsteen (1984, Album: Born in the USA)


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The ride to the bunker had been quiet. Claire was still uneasy with how she agreed to this...how much Jody was upset with her. Amber hadn't known what else to do, so she'd held her tongue. What could she and Claire possibly discuss in front of Sam and Dean, anyway?

The same for Sam. He hadn't known what he could or should say to the blonde, so he kept assessing the two girls from the rearview mirror...checking on them both. It had only been a four-hour ride, so this wasn't overwhelming.

Dean, on the other hand, was very clear how this was going and had no trouble interjecting their silence with occasional talk.

"Hey Claire, Amber...either of you need to stop at the next gas station?"

He'd been met with silence from the entire car, and normally he was fine with this, but he'd asked a question and he wasn't in a lenient mood. Keeping his face as neutral as he could, he persisted.

"Hey." Dean's punctuated tone sounded like a muffled gunshot.

"Do either of you need to stop at the next gas station? Both of you, I'm asking a question."

Looking up into the rearview mirror, Claire saw Dean's stern eyes. She never thought she'd have to answer to this man. What an asshat. Looking away from his reflection, Claire mumbled, "No."

Amber, deciding she needed to keep herself separated from Claire's antagonism of Dean, simply replied, "No, I'm fine."

Sam glanced over at Dean, giving him a less-than-impressed look. Dean, catching this, simply shrugged as he met Sam's unspoken meaning. What else was he supposed to do?

When they finally parked in the bunker's garage, Amber let out a sigh of relief. She was fed up with the thick tension of the car ride and couldn't wait to get a minute alone with her friend. Despite the reasons behind Claire joining them in the bunker, Amber was happy she'd have Claire with her for a whole month.

Practically bolting out of the car, the youngest Winchester headed to the trunk, quickly retrieving her duffel bag and her guitar case. She watched as Claire climbed out. Headphones still attached to her head, Claire followed Amber's lead.

Turning to Sam and Dean, who'd also exited the Impala, Amber offered, "How about I give Claire the grand tour? Help her settle in?"

The brothers exchanged a look.

"We need to have a private chat with each of you," Dean answered curtly.

Sam glanced at him before reasoning, "Let's give Claire some time to settle in first."

His tone was even, but Dean instantly caught how strongly his brother felt about this. Pursing his lips, conceding, he nodded.

"Fine. Go ahead. But I want both of you in your rooms in fifteen minutes, tops. We need to talk to both of you."

Amber gulped at his words. Was she in trouble? She had no idea and she hated this uncertainty. Deciding she didn't want to lose any more time, she turned to Claire and motioned with her head for the blonde to follow her.

Heading into the bunker, Amber felt this odd sense of home for this place. Like a ship returning to port after surviving a storm at sea, it was with a sense of relief she headed towards the bedrooms. She'd help Claire with finding her own.

Turning down the hallway, all of a sudden, Amber was confronted by her feelings. She'd never thought she'd feel this way about this cave, but there it was. After the close call in the graveyard, with those demons, the blowup at Jody's, and the uncertainty of Kyle and what this all meant, this place held a sense of routine, predictability, safety...and welcome relief.

Claire looked around her, an indifferent expression plastered on her face. This was the second time she'd been in the bunker, but this time she was here to stay. At least for a while. She knew she'd love aspects of this situation. But she had a hard time looking past how much she hated that she had no say in her being here. Not considering that she did indeed have other choices...they just weren't as supported as this one...Claire remained steadfast in her own sense of self-righteous indignation.

Approaching her own room, number 16, Amber extended an arm, pointing in the direction of the remaining rooms that Claire could choose from.

"Take your pick. They're all the same. I'm here," Amber said, pointing to the number 16 on her own door.

"You'll have your own bathroom. We all do. They're right across from our rooms."

At this, Amber walked the three steps opposite her bedroom, to her own bathroom, and pushed the door open, showing Claire what to expect. Claire, taking a step closer to look inside, merely looked around through the cracked bathroom door, and allowed the door to close as she retreated back into the hallway. She wasn't excited about any of this, but this wouldn't be too bad. Not good, but not too bad.

An intense wave of dejavu hit Amber as she watched her friend. Her posture, attitude, and reactions brought back her own first time of going through this room-picking process. She remembered the uncertainty, and fear, of that first night and wondered just how hard Claire was trying to play it cool. Yeah, Claire had to be having an internal war with this all right about now...and keeping it all on lockdown. Amber had done the same thing back then, too.

Claire finally turned and opened the door right next to Amber's. She walked inside without giving it a second thought. Letting her bags fall on the ground, Claire peered around the room. Not bad...spartan, but not bad. She'd lived in much worse places when she was in juvenile detention and some of those foster homes. At least here she had her own bedroom and bathroom.

Amber opened her room's door and practically threw her things inside before following Claire into her claimed space. Closing the door, as soon as she entered room 17, Amber walked to the bed and sat on its edge, looking at Claire as she got out of her coat and draped it over the back of the desk chair.

Amber found herself not really knowing what to say or how to approach Claire. Clearing her throat a bit awkwardly she finally managed to get out, "Thanks, Claire."

The blonde turned to look at her, hands moving to her head and lowering her headphones. "What for?"

"Covering for me… about the cemetery," Amber supplied in a hushed tone. She didn't want to risk Sam or Dean overhearing any of this.

Claire let out something between a scoff and a sigh. "No point dragging you down with me. If one of us could get out of this scott free, why the hell not? Plus, you tried to cover for me, too. If it hadn't been for the asshats - no offense - being after the same demons I was, you'd have probably succeeded."

"So, you're not mad?" Amber asked, with uncertainty.

Claire peered at her for a few silent seconds. "Mad? No. A bit pissed, but not about that."

Looking up surprised, Amber crossed her hands in front of her chest. "What for? What did I do?"

Claire raised both eyebrows as she leaned against the desk behind her. "We might not know each other for too long, but I kinda considered you a friend. And was pretty open with you about everything. Can't say you've done the same."

Claire's words felt like a slap on the face. Amber opened her mouth and closed it again. Her mind raced to the events of the previous days. She'd suspected Claire would have caught some of the demons' words at the cemetery. And then the whole Kyle scene that played out right in front of her… Of course she had realized Amber kept things from her.

Shit.

Contemplating how she could possibly go about this, Amber bit her lower lip. After a few more silent seconds she offered the only words she could, "You're right. There are things I haven't been able to share. But trust me, it's not that I don't want to. I just can't. And I mean can't! As in life threatening can't."

Claire's face turned from confrontational to bewildered. She did the math in her head, but still she couldn't make sense of any of this.

"Amber, what the hell's happening here? Why were those demons after you? And how is Kyle linked to any of this?"

"Claire," Amber practically whined. "Please don't push this. I wanna tell you. I will. As soon as it's safe to do so. But I can't talk about this right now. I'm sorry…"

The blonde huffed, annoyed.

"I can tell you this, though… I have no idea how Kyle is mixed up in this shit. And I don't like it. And I'm begging you, don't mention any of this in front of Sam and Dean!"

"I don't like any of this," Claire snapped. Noticing how Amber's face fell, she let out a frustrated sigh.

"Fine. I won't say a word and I won't ride your ass any more about this. For now. But we're not done here!"

Amber managed a small smile.

"Thanks, Claire."


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In the kitchen, Sam was looking through their fridge, assessing what food they had.

Dean, coming in, noticed Sam taking inventory and figuring they would need a trip to the grocery store now that they had two teenagers to feed. Dean also thought it best to address Sam's burning issues.

"OK, what's up with your silence?"

Turning to Dean, Sam shot him an uncomfortable look, returning his focus to the running grocery list he was tallying in his head. Still facing into the fridge, Sam spoke as he continued his work. Unlike most men, Sam could multitask.

"Dean, I get how you want to lay down the law on Claire...and I think you should. Just be...be a bit less 'in her face' about it, alright? She's here to learn. She's not incarcerated."

Dean, feeling a bit undermined by this, scoffed loudly.

Sam, stopping his mental inventory, turned serious eyes to his brother.

"I mean it, Dean. She is not going to accept things like Amber has. Compared to Claire, Amber is so well behaved and yet you've been such a hardass on her."

Reflecting on the conversations Sam had had with Amber, about her behavior towards Dean and later on, towards himself, Sam considered how quite a bit of their actions had been justified with their sister. Yet, Sam had played interference many times against Dean's knee jerk, authoritarian impulses. And this had made the difference for Amber. This middle ground, and the rapport that Sam and Amber had built up, this had helped Amber's attitude towards being here turn a corner.

Standing up straight, looking his brother in the eye, Sam warned, "This won't fly. Not with Claire. She'll be out of here in no time. Then what do we do? What will we tell Jody?"

"We did what we had to do with Amber and we'll do the same with Claire," Dean answered, arms crossing in front of him. At Sam's words, he felt his defenses kicking in. Sure, he'd been hard on Amber, but they had to. And Sam ought to know this more than anyone.

"We didn't do so badly. Look at her. Amber's really turned out pretty well."

Sam read his brother's defensiveness. Knowing that, with Dean in defensive mode, he wouldn't get far, Sam shifted gears.

"I know we did well with Amber, but it's different. She's our… she's family, Dean. And despite you two butting heads all the time, Amber's nowhere near as reactive as Claire is. That's what I'm stressing here."

Sam stopped for a moment to let his words sink in. Dean was listening, but still not convinced and Sam could see this.

"If you want to stand a chance with Claire, don't do your 'it's my way or the highway' routine. She sees right through this and she'll do the opposite of anything you say. I'm just saying, we need to lay down the rules, but perhaps not 'lay down the law'...you know, the way dad did. I hated that. It didn't help us any!"

"So, what are you saying? Letting everything slide except major-stupid shit?" Dean challenged.

"Is that what we did with Amber?" Sam asked, some frustration finding its way into his tone.

"You just said we need to be more lenient with Claire than we were with Amber," Dean countered incredulously.

"No, Dean! I just said we need to be less confrontational with Claire than we've been with Amber. Not more lenient. Try to listen to my words for a moment, alright? And stop creating problems we don't have yet! I think following my advice has helped you on a number of occasions with Amber," Sam snapped.

As his meaning sunk in, Dean let his hands drop to his sides with an annoyed sigh. Sam continued.

"We lay down the rules she's to follow. We outline a training schedule for her, you know, similar to Amber's, and we go from there. If she breaks the rules, lay it right on her. I'm not gonna stop you. But don't assume she's constantly looking for ways to undermine you. Half the shit she pulls is because she's insecure and feels she has to do everything on her own. If you're constantly on her case, you're only making that worse. Crack a damn joke every once in a while and remember she's just a troubled kid, not a delinquent! Alright?"

Dean contemplated Sam's words. He could see his reasoning and had to admit he tended to react harshly with Claire. Not that it wasn't uncalled for, but Sam was right. Dean remembered how their father always reacted to Sam's actions, never really trying to find any reasoning behind them. Always assuming Sam was trying to simply challenge him. Dean hated that John had treated Sam that way. He grimaced slightly upon realising he hadn't been any better...where Claire was concerned.

"I hear you, Sammy," Dean finally said, his tone solemn.

Leaning his back up against the wall of the kitchen, Dean crossed his legs and arms, his eyes unfocused on the floor as he thought through everything Sam had just laid on him. Peering up at his tense-looking brother, Dean then shook his head.

"You really need to get some, bro. Your resting bitch face is reaching a whole new level."


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Amber was sitting indian style on her bed, back propped up against her pillows, with her guitar resting on her lap. Her fingers lightly strummed the strings as she practiced chords in different key signatures... emitting nothing but soft melodies. Her eyes were trained on the wall opposite her as she tried to ease her nervousness while waiting on Sam and Dean. When she finally heard the knock on her door, she sat up straighter and used her palm to stop the lightly vibrating chords.

"C'min," she called out and watched as Sam opened her door and stepped inside, closely followed by Dean. She watched them walking inside, Dean closing the door behind him. Amber scanned their faces for any indication of what was to come. To her surprise, their faces were relatively calm. This wasn't what she'd expected.

Usually, when they'd had a 'family talk', there was some issue to be worked through...and she'd take some heat...for something. Not knowing if they had bought that she wasn't at the cemetery with Claire, she was nervous. And she wasn't giving anything away. Besides...she didn't want to go there in the first place.

Seeing Amber's face looking nervous, the brothers exchanged a nervous glance of their own, earning a "Augh! Stop that!" from their sister. Amber hated how they always seemed to silently communicate right in front of her.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold your horses. We haven't come to rake you over the coals, so you need to hold your tongue."

Amber glanced from Dean to Sam with a slightly surprised look on her face.

"You haven't?" she asked, her voice rising in a surprised lilt.

Sam's lips twitched at her reaction, but he managed to keep his smile from spreading.

"No, Amber. We just wanna talk."

"About…" Amber prompted, her arms hugging her guitar close to her. The guitar felt like protection from their words. Sam saw this and understood Amber felt the habitual attack. They'd had some rocking episodes since she'd come to live with them.

"Sioux Falls," Dean supplied as he sat at the edge of her bed, torso leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees. He turned his head to keep looking at his sister on his right, examining her face.

"Before we get to the juicy parts," Dean went on, "I think it goes without saying that downing three bottles of wine with Claire, while home alone, was more than stupid and irresponsible."

Amber felt her cheeks heating up at the light scolding. She had expected them to mention this for sure, but their calm and even attitude had thrown her off.

"I know… And I'm sorry. I was just upset about...stuff, and the wine was right there… I really am sorry, guys."

"Why were you upset?" Sam asked, taking her desk chair out and sitting on it. His expression held concern. No anger, no disappointment.

Amber felt a bit more at ease with his intervention. Glancing at Dean, she noticed he, too, was looking at her expectantly. Shit! Hold it together, Amber….What could she say that wouldn't give her away?

Amber's mind traveled to that night and she recalled exactly why she was upset. But she realized she couldn't really share any of this with them. Deciding to go with the lesser of two evils she cleared her throat.

"As pathetic and girly as this might sound…" glancing up at her brothers, reluctant to admit to her feeling upset with Kyle she finished her sentence, "Cause Kyle didn't call or text or anything after my birthday. And I was really hoping to see more of him."

Sam's brow furrowed a bit and he tilted his head slightly to the right. He mulled the girl's words over in his head and, while he couldn't quite spot why, he doubted that was all there was in her story. He doubted Amber would get so worked up over a guy she barely knew.

"You sure that's all there is to it?"

Amber turned to look at Sam, her heart seizing up. This was an involuntary reaction...and Sam caught this. Dean had, too.

"So, what's with the big eyes?" Dean said, shifting to an upright sitting position, eye still on his sister's.

Shit! Shit! Shit! Amber's heart was racing. Since when had it gotten so easy for her brothers to figure her out? "Well...it has been kinda rough. Claire was talking all day long about wanting to go hunting and stuff. I mean, I wanted to go hunting, too, but she was all, 'Let's go check out the cemetery' and then 'let's go check out this demon sighting'. She's kinda relentless, you know."

"But… All that came after getting drunk, Amb," Sam answered. His expression, turning suspicious now. "What are you trying to hide?"

Amber felt that she was running out of excuses. She hated how well Sam and Dean had learned to read her. Damn! Seeing there was no other way to get out of this, she drew in a deep breath. Face flushing even more, she came clean with the truth she wanted to hide. Maybe it was for the best. Maybe the awkwardness would make Sam and Dean change the subject.

"Fine… It wasn't just about Kyle and hunting. It was also…" Pausing and glancing up at Dean, she continued, "...about you."

Dean's eyebrows knit with confusion. "What about me?"

"You know…brushing me off. While you were...out." Amber said in a quiet tone, eyes lowering.

Sam felt this realization hitting him. He remembered the phone call with Amber and how she had caught his lies about where Dean really was. Damn. But how on earth had Dean brushed her off? He wasn't there to talk to her. Turning questioning eyes to his brother, he watched Dean's eyes briefly closing and his jaw clenching.

"Amber… I… I didn't brush you off. I picked up the phone, I made sure you were okay," Dean attempted, not sure where he could possibly go with this. He felt completely oarless in this sea. What was he supposed to say? He hadn't done anything wrong, so why was Amber upset about that?

Connecting the dots in his mind, Sam was getting up to speed with how this conversation went down. Amber had called Dean and he hadn't paid enough attention to her. He'd have to talk to Dean about this. They had a teen girl under their care now. They needed to figure out a different way to go about these things.

"I know… I told you. It's stupid and girly and...and you wouldn't understand," Amber mumbled diffusion. She glanced at the brothers and was relieved to see they didn't seem suspicious anymore. This was embarrassing, but also pretty effective in shifting the focus of the discussion. And there was truth in it.

When both brothers remained silent, she continued. "I'm not saying I was right to do it, but I felt like shit…. With radio silence from Kyle, then you….you doing that and not having time to talk... Claire was just there with the wine at the right moment, I guess. I was sad, and pissed, and...and insecure, I guess...and I needed a distraction. That's what I'm trying to say here."

Sam glanced at Dean and realised he wasn't ready to offer an answer to any of this. Taking the lead, Sam offered, "Amb, I'm sure Dean didn't mean to make you feel that way, right Dean?" Looking at Dean in a meaningful way, Sam was leading Dean and hoped he'd let himself be led.

The oldest Winchester, clueless of how to navigate in the direction this conversation had taken, simply nodded, "Right."

"I am glad you realise what exactly led you to drink, though. I am sure this will help you to better control yourself in similar situations in the future," Sam continued.

"It will, I promise," Amber nodded.

"So, we're clear with the no alcohol without asking us for permission?" Dean finally spoke, more than eager to change the subject.

"Crystal!" Amber confirmed.

"And we expect you to finish the essay Jody assigned and send it to her by tomorrow noon," Sam concluded.

"I will!" Her tone sounded flustered.

"Good. Now that this is out of the way we wanted to tell you how proud we are that you thought things through and didn't follow Claire to the cemetery last night or on the demon hunt today," Sam said.

Amber formed a small smile at his words and managed to school her face into a pleasant expression. She pushed the guilt to the farthest corner of her mind. She focused on accepting the praise for her refusal to follow Claire on the demon hunt. Relief that Sam and Dean had no idea about her involvement in the whole cemetery situation washed over her. What the brother saw was relief and they took this as well earned on Amber's part.

"You really showed us we can trust you, kid," Dean added, his eyes crinkling at the corners in a cautious smile.

"Thanks, guys," Amber answered with an appreciative nod.

"Is there anything else we need to know about your stay at Sioux Falls? Claire told us that one of the demons was the bouncer from the tavern where we had your birthday party. Did you notice anything unusual? Anyone tailing you and Claire? Did anything else happen?" Dean questioned, his eyes studying Amber's face.

Amber kept her face as neutral as possible and simply shook her head.

"Nothing really, no… My powers were a bit unstable throughout the weekend, but like Cas has already said, it's probably because my grace is getting stronger. The bouncer might have triggered it, too. At this point I can't really tell. It will randomly go highwire and I can't tell if there is a reason or not."

Dean and Sam exchanged a look. Again.

"Hey, stop that!" Amber snapped, annoyed.

Sitting up, Dean countered, "Hey...pipe down. Mind your tone."

Sam, wishing to dispel Dean's hard stance, added, "Cas has mentioned that your grace may react to danger even if you aren't aware of the danger. Does this make any sense to you?"

Finishing this exchange, Sam frowned at Dean, frustrated at how his brother always grabbed onto the 'obedience thing'. It was so exasperating.

Amber, hearing this...and thinking back on the seemingly random episodes of her angel grace acting up...she wondered about this. Unfocused gaze on the bedcovers, Amber was running back over the episodes she recalled and wondering if any of this could be corroborated to a threat she didn't see….but was there nonetheless.

The night of her birthday party, at the tavern, that had been really were other times, too. But that had been the worst. And the bouncer had definitely been there. Looking up at her brothers, their faces open and concerned, she ventured a thoughtful, "Maybe."

"Maybe, what?" was Dean's concern coming out overly harsh...as usual.

Frustration starting to grow from his perceived criticism, Amber's eyes flashed with anger. Dean was being an ass again. She started doubting whether he was truly concerned about her, or just trying to find something, literally anything at all, wrong in her actions.

Sitting up straight, grip tightening around the guitar she was still clutching, Amber felt the connection that brothers had started to create with her, she felt it breaking. Amber's face took on a stoic expression, jaw hardening, her mouth compressing into a line.

Sam, sighed. Dean heard this and was defensive. Turning to look at his brother, he let out a confused, "What?"

Like hiring a bad translator and inadvertently getting into a territorial dispute, Sam was feeling undermined here.

"Dean, let me talk. You two…" and this is where Sam glared at both of his siblings, "...you two just need to let me talk. Why do we always have to do this? Getting riled up over the smallest things! You two are so annoyingly alike."

Amber and Dean both exchanged heated glances. Yeah, they were guilty of this, but neither of them liked it when Sam rubbed their faces in it. Glancing up, Amber's face was looking at Sam, and then Dean. After a few silent seconds she couldn't stop a sheepish little grin peeking out from beneath her dissolving anger.

Dean, feeling befuddled that his younger brother was lecturing him in front of Amber, and was right, developed his own sheepish expression. Yeah, he'd stepped in this. Dean didn't have anything to say, but his dropping shoulders told Sam everything he needed to know in order to move this conversation forward.

"OK. So, the point here is, have you had your grace act up when you didn't actually see anything dangerous...and now you understand that there had been danger?"

Sam let his words hang in the air...establishing his authority and intent over this line of questioning.

Amber, deciding to address the most obvious and safe scenario where this played out, started reflecting over the episode she'd experienced in the tavern...the night of her birthday.

"Well, at the tavern. You know...while I was up singing ..."

"While you were laying low," Dean scoffed, sarcastically.

"Dean, out. I've had it with you. Get out, NOW!" Sam's booming voice reverberated in the room, his tone coming from deep in his chest. He had no more patience for Dean's attitude nor was he willing to compromise Amber's openness about the weekend's events. Sitting up straight, Sam aggressively pointed towards the door.

When Dean didn't make a move, Sam repeated himself strongly.

"I mean it, Dean! Get out!"

Dean and Amber both looked stunned, neither of them moving, both of their mouths open in shock.

Amber wondered why Sam was reacting so intensely. Sure, Dean was being an ass, but this wasn't the first time...and it sure as hell wouldn't be the last.

"Sam, it's okay," Amber tried to calm her brother down. When both his, and Dean's, eyes landed on her, surprised, she realized it was the first time she was the one intervening between them.

"Yeah, Sammy! Geez!" Dean commented half annoyed, half amused.

Sam rolled his eyes, feeling undone by these two.

"I promise, if he really pisses me off I'll kick him out myself," Amber said, her commitment to this action clear in her voice. It was her attempt to bring things back to some sort of focus.

Dean raised a single eyebrow at her words, but decided to not say anything. He wanted to hear this just as much as Sam.

Sending a warning look in Dean's direction, Sam then turned his focus back to Amber.

"So… You were saying... that something happened while you were singing?"

"Yeah…" Amber began reviewing what had happened up on stage. Staring off at the wall, kind of defocusing as she scanned the details from her memory, she began relating to them about the headache that came on mid-song, the pain behind her eyes, the tightening of her chest, the anxiety that seemed to be all around her...

Sam and Dean both listened quietly. When Amber finished, Dean looked at her seriously, before glancing at Sam.

"Can I mention how irresponsible her not sharing that with us that night was, or are you gonna pitch a fit?"

"You can kick him out now, Sam," Amber prompted, annoyed by this. But when she turned to look at Sam, she found him gazing at her just as seriously as Dean.

"I think he's more than justified this time," Sam said.

Shrinking back, and half-hiding herself behind her guitar, Amber simply pouted. She knew they were right, but she didn't have to be happy about this.

"We've discussed this more than once, how damn important it is to share this sort of thing with us," Dean said sternly.

"I know… But had I shared that with you, can you honestly tell me you'd have let me stay at Jody's?" Amber countered in a small voice.

"Like hell we would've! But we would be right not to. I hope you realise that now," was Dean's sharp response.

"Dean's right, Amber," Sam added. "The bouncer was in there. I remember catching him staring at our table more than once. I even remember a glaring contest between him and Kyle… Kyle must have noticed the bouncer's interest, too. I think it's safe to assume he'd been sent to Sioux Falls to get you."

"Well, we don't know for sure if he was possessed that night," Amber threw out, not liking where this was going. Her little share had backfired.

"That's bullcrap. Your powers acted up. You said you felt threatened on that stage and the meatsuit Claire and Kyle killed at the cemetery, he was in that tavern when all this happened," Dean said sharply, immediately shooting her down.

Eying her solemnly, Sam was putting it all together.

"That was a big foul on your part, Amber. I can understand why you did it… I get how much you wanted some days off. I really do, but this can't happen again. Ever."

Sam spoke in a deep, deadly calm voice...scarier than any shouting Dean had done. It was sobering...and frightening. What now? Was she in trouble?

Closing her eyes, and leaning back against the headboard, Amber felt trapped. Right now all of her thoughts revolved around one thing: She could never be right. She could never make a choice her brothers approved of. Doing the "right thing" meant her life on lockdown. Her life was shit. She was shit!

Eyes still closed, she was collapsing internally. After a moment, her head hung down, bringing both of her hands up to cover her face, hair hanging forward. This was all too much. Amber felt tears starting to well up. She was feeling overwhelmed by this all. Quietly, tears began rolling down her face, despite her intense effort to keep them hidden.

The hand that clasped on her shoulder made her jerk her head up. She expected to see Sam, but it was Dean who had reached out. His face was open, concerned...and his grip was reassuring, comforting even, making Amber wonder what the hell he was doing.

Watching her face, Dean saw this girl's expression collapsing, her mouth pulling back into a grimace as she lost control over her crying. The sound that came out of her was a thin, high-pitched sobbing. Neither brother had heard her cry like this before.

"Hey, hey, hey. Calm down," Dean said in a hushed tone, his deep voice sounding like a woodwind. "We're not going to punish you for this," he said, spelling it out. Dean's hand remained on her shoulder and Amber felt it close firmly around her, giving her a squeeze.

Seeing her pain, all Dean felt capable of was keeping his hand on her, hoping this was enough.

Not being able to hold this in any longer, Amber needed contact, comfort, and she launched herself towards Dean, her guitar pushed to the side, clutching him around the neck, hugging him tightly as she kept crying.

Dean, realizing what was happening, his own heart feeling for the tough position this girl was in, rocked her gently as she clung to him.

Sam watched on in amazement. Dean was having a heart for Amber's situation. It kind of brought him up short, warming his own upset. He was relieved by Dean's reaction, and it was unexpected. If his brother had decided to punish Amber over this, frankly, he wouldn't be able to change Dean's mind… because Dean would've been right. Amber knew better. But he doubted, given this situation, if ending this particular discussion with a punishment of any kind would prove useful or helpful. Amber's whole life seemed like one long punishment. Maybe Dean had paid attention during their discussion at Jody's.

Dean waited patiently for the girl to calm down, stroking her back, continuing to rock her, until her tears stopped completely. When her light sobs had stopped, he ended their embrace and pinned her tear-stained face with a serious and warning look. He really needed her to listen. This was killing him. Dean lifted her face to his own, his finger under her chin. He was speaking gently, with a firmness he made use of as he emphasized his words.

"Amber, I feel for you, I really do. But we'll never let this slide again! We've been over this. This can't happen...can't keep happening."

Dean's expression was clear and firm. Amber felt his commitment to his word.

"The only reason we're not bringing down the hammer this time is because you were so responsible and careful during your stay at Jody's." Here Dean was quiet...rectifying this statement, "Well…for the most part."

"Thank you, Dean," Amber managed to get out. "Thank you both," she added, turning her still wet eyes to look at Sam.

Sam nodded, acknowledging her words. "Just make sure this is the last time we're having this particular conversation, alright?" He felt the need to add.

"It will," Amber nodded eagerly hoping she could keep that particular promise.

"Okay, moving on," Dean called. "Claire."

Amber looked at him confused, "What about Claire?"

"How about her being here, what the two of you will do, and keeping you out of any Claire-trouble," Dean pointed out.

"Oh, yeah," Amber reflected.

"And more importantly, keeping your powers a secret," Sam added. "With Claire here you need to be extra careful, especially during training."

"Will Cas and I still train?" Amber was unsure how this would happen, with Claire and Cas having such a painful history.

"Yes. Especially now, with your powers so unstable, I think it's imperative to keep working with Cas. We just need to make sure Claire won't witness this. I was thinking about pairing you up for shooting and hand-to-hand combat.

"You mean pairing Claire and I," was Amber's questioning look. She was wondering how hand-to-hand combat training with an opponent her own size was that much preparation for the real world.

"No, you and Cas," Dean said with a roll of his eyes.

"Of course, you and Claire. And the two of you can also work on lore assignments or whatever else Sammy gives you to study."

Amber stared at her brother a bit surprised.

"What?" Dean asked, noticing her expression.

"Nothing… It's just… I thought you'd try to keep us seperated for the most part, or something," Amber admitted.

"What good would that do?" Sam countered. "Neither of you are prisoners here. You're friends and we happen to think you're a good influence on Claire. Spending time together, training together, studying together… it could be a great experience for both of you."

Amber, reflecting on the parts of her stay at Jody's that her brothers didn't know about, felt a twinge of anxiety. They could never find out. But...for the most part, she'd resisted Claire's worst ideas until she was dragged into them.

Still, whiskey in her coffee, that was a morning habit she could get used to.

Refocusing on the situation at hand, Amber brought her attention to her brothers as they continued.

"We just need to be extra careful about your powers. You only use them during your private training sessions with Cas. And if you feel a surge coming on, you run as fast as you can if Claire's around," Sam continued.

"And it goes without saying we need to keep the whole father-uncle thing going," Dean tucked on.

Ugh! I had forgotten about that," Amber sighed.

"I know. It sucks, but this has to happen," was Sam's response, his own face looking a bit tired of this whole ruse as well.

"So, you have any questions?" was Sam's next question, his forehead lines forming those horizontal lines.

Amber, eyes cast off to the side, thinking it all over, looked to the two men and shook her head. They'd covered this pretty well.

"Oh, what about going out shopping or getting some air in town? You know, getting a burger, seeing a movie...some of the things kids our age do?" was Amber's impronteau thought.

"Amber, you know you don't do much of this outside of our sight. We can't let you do this any differently with Claire here. In fact..we have to be even more vigilant with Claire here," was Sam's reminder.

"Situation hasn't changed, kid. You're still a target and now we know for a fact that hell has demons seeking you. There's no way you and Claire leave the bunker on your own," Dean said, shooting down her hopes.

"We might consider bringing you along for some grocery shopping and grab a coffee or some lunch, but we'll be with you the whole time," Sam added.

Amber felt an inner battle erupting. Part of her knew she should thank her lucky stars Sam and Dean had been so cool about her withholding information about her powers. That part of her told her to shut up and agree to everything they said. Another part wanted to scream in frustration. This was so unfair.

Sam watched her clenching fists and tensing shoulders and could tell she wasn't happy with any of this. In an attempt to make her feel better about it he offered, "Amb, it's more than just that. Claire's not here for vacation. She's here to learn some discipline and get some training. We can't make her stay here a month-long slumber party. I'm not saying you won't have any fun… I'm not saying you'll be inside the bunker 24/7, but this is training and discipline," was Sam's very pragmatic response.

Still at war with herself, Amber did understand this was discipline and structure for Claire. And internally, she felt Claire needed this.

Flippantly, Amber blurted out, "So, is she getting her ass tanned when she takes a car out of the garage?" Amber really didn't expect this to happen. It was cynicism on her part and she expected their answer to be completely unfair.

Brows furrowed, both men looked at her firmly, questioning this scenario without saying a word. With neither brother saying anything, Amber was caught off guard. Their unified force of silence implied that there would be actions Claire was going to be held accountable for.

Sam was the first one to find his voice. "What Claire does or doesn't get, if she breaks the rules, is between her and us. Just like what happens to you when you break the rules is a private matter," his tone was stern and curt. He didn't like Amber's reaction and he sincerely hoped this was nothing more than agitation over the fact she and Claire wouldn't be allowed out of the bunker. "Honestly, Amber, Claire's your friend!"

Amber couldn't believe what she was hearing. Really! She couldn't sync up the Claire she had come to know, with a situation in which Claire got herself in trouble like Amber sometimes got into. Mouth slightly open in disbelief, Amber just stared back at them.

"And do you have any reason to think Claire is going to steal a car?" was Dean's guttural line of questioning.

"She had looked impressed when I told her I… uh… borrowed the Challenger," Amber answered, her voice dropping in volume. That adventure hadn't been an overt success.

"And did you tell her about the ass beating you took after we got you back to the bunker?" was Dean's pointed response.

Amber felt her face heat up at his words. God this was embarrassing. Averting her eyes from Dean, she trained them on the opposite wall, lips a tight line. She wasn't gonna grace that question with an answer, that was for sure.

"That's what I thought," Dean commented dryly. "Piece of advice kid, be more worried about your own behavior and decisions and let us worry about Claire."

Sitting back against the headboard, Amber looked away from the men, not willing to look them in the eye. That whole Denver fiasco was...well..embarrassing.

Sam, deciding to move this along, brought up the next order of business.

"So, where is Claire's room? We need to go talk to her, too."

Looking up at Sam, then shifting her eyes to Dean, Amber said. "She's in room 17, right next door."

The two men's faces grew white. Oh, god! How thin were these walls?


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Uncomfortably half-sitting, half-standing against the desk, her ear up against the wall that seperated her room from Amber's, Claire had been trying to listen to the Winchesters' conversation as best as she could.

It wasn't like she had planned for this to happen, but when she heard their muffled voices her curiosity peaked. With Amber confirming mere minutes ago that there were things she and her brothers kept hidden, she realized some eavesdropping could very well lead to some info about what was being kept under lock and key. While she couldn't follow everything, the walls being quite dense, she was able to catch some of the louder parts of their conversation. Including Amber's high-pitched wail of crying, which soon stopped.

Her brain raced to connect the dots between the fragments of information she overheard. Which was significant to say the least.

She initially felt surprised at how much of a say Sam had in how Amber was treated. His voice, yelling at Dean to get out of Amber's room, made her eyebrows rise. Since when did an uncle kick a father out of his own kid's room? Sam was acting like a second parent to Amber.

Sam's reaction at that moment made Claire remember how Sam had intervened, however imperfectly, when he'd thought Amber was abusing drugs during Amber's first visit to Jody's. That incident had surprised her back then, but she hadn't given it a single thought since it had occurred...until now. Those Winchesters were a united force. And Dean was, unsurprisingly, an asshole. Enough to need someone to run interference, the dick. This new element of the Winchester family dynamic was unexpected. However, it could also be useful. Claire was always scheming..and this could definitely be leveraged to her benefit.

The next part of the conversation was drowned out. With the exception of the distinct sound of Amber's crying, Claire didn't manage to catch anything else. Spending the next few minutes trying to guess what in their conversation had led to tears, what she heard next stopped her heart.

"Cas," and then it was muffled. Shit! Pressing her ear even tighter to the wall, Claire was straining to hear whatever was linked to the angel's name, but had no luck. The next words she was able to make out amped up her frustration. Not catching enough of what they were saying was maddening.

"...and if you feel a surge coming on, you run as fast as you can…".

Huh? A surge of what? They were all hiding something big. Really big! Claire could feel it. She'd felt it before, but this was pointing to something beyond anything she had as a point of reference.

Dean's next words sounded almost audible through the wall.

"...we need to keep the whole father-uncle thing going".

Claire's eyebrows furrowed and her lips gaped. The following responses weren't loud enough to make out. What 'whole father-uncle thing?' Connecting the dots with the previous parts of the conversation, this was blowing her mind. This snippet narrowed her focus to a myopic pinpoint. What could this possibly mean? Were they lying about their relationship? Why the hell would they? This couldn't possibly be what they were talking about. After all the resemblance among all three of them, and especially between Amber and Dean, was there and it was intense. Nothing made any sense.

They kept talking. Claire could hear the cadence of their speech, picked up on the emotional tension, then calming down...even though she couldn't make out individual words or phrases. She could still understand that they communicated and were having emotional responses to each other. This was still a useful thing to know. Amber wasn't a voiceless prisoner. Claire had wondered.

The last thing that managed to travel through the wall was Dean's raised voice, clearly saying...

"And did you tell her about the ass beating you took after we got you back to the bunker?"

This reveal had brought Claire up short. She felt her stomach drop and her face blanched as her imagination provided an image of this happening to Amber, and by extension, to herself. An involuntary shiver ran down her spine, ending with her entire body giving a shake. So, this was a possibility? Everything was a possibility with Dean. God, he really was such a dick!

Continuing to listen, Claire let her attention move on. The rest of the conversation was too muffled to make out. What important stuff was she missing? She wished she could somehow hear all of this. Then the conversation stopped. It just stopped. Listening, Claire waited to hear something...anything. It was still. The sound of footsteps and a door opening and closing made her jump. A few steps in the hallway, and a short shuffle of two sets of boots, followed by a knock at her door.

Anxiety breaking her connection to the wall, Claire quickly righted herself, standing away from her eavesdropping spot, moving to sit herself on her bed. Grabbing her knife from her nightstand, where she had deposited it earlier, she laid down and pretended she was examining it, turning it over in her hand in an attempt to make this look genuine.

Outside in the hallway, Sam and Dean heard quick movement inside. The exchanged look between the two conveyed the assumption that Claire had. at the very least. attempted to listen in on their conversation. It was just a question of how much she'd managed to hear. Now what? How would they navigate this and not give away anything she may not have heard? Shit!

Shrugging at Sam, Dean looked flummoxed, but what could they do?

Silently mouthing, "What now?" Sam looked at his brother.

Dean, not knowing anymore than Sam, simply shrugged, frowning with an expression of, 'I have no idea'.

Turning back to room 17's door, Dean took this bull by the horns and let out a loud, "Claire, we're coming in," before, allowing a brief two seconds for a response, turning the doorknob and pushing open the door.

There, laying on her bed, Claire was seemingly admiring a large knife. Well, this seemed to be in keeping with the girl. Still, Sam and Dean knew better than to buy this attempt at deception.

Claire could feel their knowledge of her own falsehood, but she wasn't gonna say anything. Let them be the first to bring it up. After all, they were the ones with all the secrets.

"Claire, can we have a word with you?" was Dean's curt question. He couldn't outright accuse her of eavesdropping, but he didn't have to pretend he wasn't annoyed by it either. And this passive-aggressive communication of John Winchester, was a native language. And at this moment Dean took honors in this. His earlier talk with Sam, regarding this very issue, already fading behind his frustration.

When Claire remainend seemingly preoccupied, examining her knife, Dean snapped,.

"Hey! I'm talking to you!"

Remaining laying down, knife still in her hands, Claire shifted her eyes to look at the pair, disdainfully.

"And do I get brownie points if I act like I care?" She asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. Dean's tone and attitude was already getting to her.

Sam was tense, watching the exchange between these two. He could see where this was heading and he wasn't sure he'd be able to stop it. With his irritation, equally distributed between the bratty teen and his stubborn bull of a brother, Sam aimed a warning look at Claire in hopes she'd take the hint and start cooperating. He didn't want to challenge Dean's authority in front of her. This would be counter-productive. He and Dean should present a united front, especially in this crucial first talk with the girl.

Despite his temper rising, and his patience rapidly diminishing, Dean grunted, "Last chance, Claire. Sit. Up."

Raising a single eyebrow Claire stared back at him, challengingly, not moving an inch from her lying position.

Seeing how this was going to go, Dean walked over to the Blonde, grabbed the knife out of her hands, holding it safely away from her, and pulled Claire up into a sitting position.

Claire, taken off guard by this, struggled a bit as she was hauled up by the collar of her hoodie. Seeing her knife in Dean's hands, she reached out to grab it back, only to have herself held back by Dean's grip on her.

"I'll hold onto this. You'll have no need for it while you're here," was Dean's knee jerk response to her disrespectful attitude.

"The hell you will!" Claire kept reaching for the knife in Dean's right hand, only to have herself pulled back by his grip. Immediately, Claire unzipped the front of her hoodie, pulled her arms out and was free from Dean's grip. This lightning maneuver had happened in less than a second. It was a tactic she'd perfected while in the system. It always surprised the cops, but she could only use it once.

Using this moment of surprise, Claire shot forward reaching for her knife.

Sam, easily reading where a physical confrontation would lead the girl, moved quickly, grabbing her around the waist, lifting her up, face forward, effectively keeping her from going anywhere.

Claire, letting out frustrated anger, yelled loudly, "Augh! Let me down!" She tried to squirm free, but Sam had a solid hold. She couldn't even turn herself around.

"Let me down!"

Dean, seeing this opportunity, simply said, "I think a room change is needed."

Sam, following his lead, tightened his grip on the blonde, resulting in an aggravated yelp from her, as she desperately tried to find a weakness in Sam's grip. There wasn't one.

Booming voice, Sam warned, "Claire, calm down. You'll get yourself hurt."

Dean picked up Claire's bags and grabbed her coat, before walking out of the room. Sam followed, still carrying Claire, who'd stopped struggling. What was the point? Her face was flushed with anger and embarrassment. What the hell had she been thinking agreeing to this?

Once out in the hallway, Dean headed towards his own room. Having her closer to him seemed like a good idea. Pushing open the door next to his own, number 12, Dean went inside, scoping it out and plopping Claire's bags and coat down in exactly the same place as in her previous room. Following behind, Sam brought Claire in, carefully turning sideways so as not to bang her head on the door frame. Approaching the bed, Sam gently set her down, frowning at the girl. If this was any indication of what the rest of the month entailed, this wasn't going to be a smooth ride for any of them.

Correcting herself to upright, Claire sat up, glaring at the two men.

"This is never going to happen again. Do you hear me?" was Dean's raised voice, meeting Claire's angry eyes. "You keep fighting us and you'll be one sorry kid."

"What ya gonna do, beat me into submission.? Huh? You think this will work?" Claire's confrontational bravado was impressive, especially given her size. Both men stared back at her...having no prior reference point for this. Even Jo had been less ballsy than this.

"You really all that eager to find out?" Dean glared at the young hunter, searching her face for understanding. Having a large hand land on his shoulder, Dean looked to his brother, who'd just stepped up to stand beside him. He read the gesture for what it was. Sam's discreet way to tell him to tone things down.

"Claire, just calm down, please. Did it really have to come to this? We're here to talk."

Sam was leading and Claire, still in an adrenaline-induced fight or flight mode, was taken aback by this. All three of them were dealing with their anxiety-induced responses and Sam figured this needed to de-escalate. Dean, watching his brother, his face tense, listened as Sam continued.

"We need to talk about how this whole thing is going to work. How we work here. And this tantrum you've just thrown is not helping your situation."

"I want my knife back," was Claire's stubborn response. She wasn't going to give up that easily and those two needed to get that message loud and clear.

"Claire, did you hear what I just said?" Sam asked, getting frustrated with her obstinance.

"Give me my knife!" was all Claire said, standing up from the sitting position on her bed, one hand extended demandingly.

Sam, looking at Dean, was all that was needed.

"Answer Sam's question." Dean barked, standing tall in front of her. Glaring down at this fiery girl, Dean was ticking off the warnings he'd received from Jody. Yeah, yeah. Well, Claire wasn't Amber, that was for sure. And this was not something he'd ever expect Jody had to deal with.

Dean had dealt with this level of physical restraining of Claire before. Now the gloves were off. With still no response from the girl, only her angry glare, Dean was already thinking about how this would go down if he needed to take the next step today. Sam better not stop him.

"Answer him." Dean repeated, the volume of his voice increasing considerably.

The punctuated volume was like a gunshot and the reverberation of Dean's shouted words could be felt. Claire had never heard Dean snapping at her like that...and she realized she was out of her depth.

Sam's eyes were steady on the girl, waiting for a response. Seeing her bravado faltering, but her stubbornness keeping her from admitting defeat, he decided to help her get there.

"Claire, we need to talk. And we're gonna talk. One way or another. So, you can either sit down and we can all get this discussion over with or I can leave and let Dean and you figure this out alone. Your choice right now." Sam's voice was calm, yet very strong and stern.

Not moving, Claire was assessing her options. She was now seeing that Sam was not afraid to step in as needed to back Dean up. Yet, he was effectively restraining his older brother from any further hands-on action...and Claire was evaluating the benefit of keeping the giant in the room.

"OK. Fine!" Claire sat down on the edge of the bed, arms folded across her chest defiantly, her mouth a hard line, eyebrows lowered in anger.

"Good choice," was all that Sam said.

Dean was too wound up to sit, so he remained standing, feet planted, his own arms crossed over his chest, looking down at Claire.

Sam, trying to calm himself down, and salvage this situation, decided to sit at the far end of Claire's bed. He'd still be taller than her, but at least it wouldn't be an intentional intimidation.

As Sam's weight made the bed creak lightly, Claire scooted up as close to the headboard as possible, intending to show how much she wished to be away from him. From them both. Sam ignored this.

"OK... Claire, we're going to try this again," Sam said and stared at the girl. Claire had gathered her knees up in front of her chest. Her shoulders were squared and tense, and her hands, clasped in front of her knees, were white at the knuckles. She was the very image of a compressed steel spring. Sam hoped she'd at least start listening.

"Amber has a training schedule and you'll follow what she does. She's up at 6 am, we all are, and she has hand-to-hand practice with Dean. Then she gets in her shower and we all have breakfast in the kitchen. We'll show you where all of this is. And, you'll be expected to share chores with us. I'll get to this later. Then around 10 am I have Amber studying sigil and lore stuff. The whole library here is available to you. I'll have Amber give you the tour. And reshelving materials...I'm strict about this. We need to be able to find references later."

Sam watched Claire's body language. She wasn't looking anymore tense than she had been. He'd swear, she actually looked like she was genuinely considering what Sam was saying.

Listened quietly, Claire was taking this all in. This was so regimented, but it was kind of cool. It was all great preparation for being a hunter. And even though she wouldn't say it to his face, Claire respected Dean and his reputation in the hunting world. The two brothers were legends and she could really level up with all of this under her belt. Internally, Claire was feeling this might actually work. It wasn't what she had expected, but well, this could be OK. It occurred to her that Amber had been doing this all along. She hadn't complained about the schedule, just Dean.

Seeing that Claire wasn't commenting on anything, Sam continued.

"We have lunch at 2 pm and then rest for an hour. At 3 pm it's gun training with either me or Dean and at 5 Amber has some private sessions with Cas or me. During that time you'll be working on your schoolwork. We're still waiting for the specifics on that front. From 7 pm we're off the clock. Some nights we hang together, others we do whatever each of us wants…"

Considering his words he added, "within reason."

Dean was watching Claire's face and noticing her listening to Sam's narration.

"And what's not within reason?" Claire asked, her eyes narrowing slightly. She didn't like where this, "within reason" qualifying statement.

"Anything that's not against the rules," Dean answered immediately.

"Rules?" Claire repeated with raised eyebrows. It's not that she didn't expect the Winchesters to have them. It's that she was hellbent on fighting them every step of the way.

"Yeah, Claire, rules. You know, those agreements between you and Jody that you kept breaking every chance you got?" Dean retorted, not bothering masking his sarcasm.

"You don't leave the bunker without permission," Sam intervened before Claire had a chance to answer.

"That's rule number one."

Claire turned to look at him, displeasure planted all over her face. "That's bull! I'm not a fucking ten-year-old that needs permission to get out of here! You just said we're off the clock at seven!"

"And I also said that whatever we do past that time has to be within reason. For you and Amber, that means staying in the bunker unless you have explicit permission from me or Dean to go leave," Sam explained. "And I'd greatly appreciate it if you cut down on all the swearing and started speaking to us more respectfully," he added after a short pause.

Sour look on her face, Claire wasn't having this restraint. And the brothers could see that they were close to having a fight on their hands.

Sam, exchanging a look with Dean, decided to set up the expectations and consequences.

"Claire, you're here for training and structure." Sam decided the word discipline wasn't a good word to throw around with her.

"Believe me, this is essential. We aren't doing this just to be dicks…"

"That's just an added bonus," Claire inserted, a smirk on her face.

"Watch it!" Dean glared at Claire. "Sam already asked you once, nicely. I'd start minding my mouth and tone if I were you!"

"As I was saying, we're not trying to be dicks, but staying in the bunker is essential. We'll all leave and go out for groceries, coffee, maybe lunch, but this will be in the company of Dean and myself. You and Amber will never be out alone. This can't happen."

"Why?" was Claire's retort.

"We have our reasons and that's enough," was Dean's impatient response. He'd had enough of this kid's attitude.

"Well, I have my reasons, too," Claire responded, tone snarky.

"Oh, I'm sure you do. And you leave this bunker without us or our permission, and you'll find yourself in trouble so deep you'll wish you'd brought a rope. You want to test me? Go for it and see what happens?" Dean was tired of this patience and crap. Sam was too nice about things.

Watching Claire's eye twitch, Dean knew he'd hit a nerve. Good!

"Alcohol is off limits, too," Sam continued when Claire remained silent. "You don't have so much as a beer without asking me or Dean for permission. This goes for Amber, too, of course. There won't be any more downing of wine while you're here."

Claire looked at the man in disbelief. "Permission for beer? Are you serious?"

"Yes, Claire. I'm completely serious. No situation that puts your health at risk or potential danger will be tolerated. And I think it goes without saying, but I'm going to spell it out for you anyway, the same goes for recreational drugs."

Clicking her tongue in fake disappointment, Claire shook her head. " Damn! What am I gonna do with all the weed I packed?"

Not gracing her remark with an answer, Dean picked up from where Sam had left off.

"No solo hunts, either. Trust me when I say you don't want to face those consequences."

Claire felt her temper rise significantly at that. "Are you fucking serious? I'm supposed to be here to become a better hunter! How the fuck am I gonna do that if I don't practice what you're supposedly so good at teaching?"

"Watch your mouth! This is the last warning you're gonna get," Dean snapped. He wasn't one to be easily annoyed by cursing, but when it was combined with this kind of attitude, it could drive him crazy.

When Claire simply glared at him silently, Dean continued. "If we think you're ready, and if you actually start cooperating, we'll consider letting you join a hunt with us. If that happens, you'll be doing exactly what we ask you to, no questions asked. Out in the field you'll be a perfect little soldier or so help me..."

Somewhat appeased by the possibility of a hunt, and despite the conditions Dean was rubbing in her face, Claire didn't offer any answer.

Watching this interaction lose its wind, Sam brought up the last order of business.

"And we all have chores in the bunker. Even though Dean usually cooks, if you'd like to cook, you can. I know you and Amber enjoyed cooking together at Jody's, so you two can do this here, too."

Sam was wondering if dangling this in Claire's face would be helpful in offering her some respite from the more restrictive aspects of her visit. Judging by her silence, this might be exactly that, but the jury was still out.

"You know, that Greek spinach thing you made at Jody's...Amber really liked that...and so did I. If you want to make this again, we'll buy the ingredients you'll need," Sam offered.

"And those Greek hamburgers, you could make those," Dean tossed out, a slight smile breaking across his face remembering Jody's improvised cooking.

Giving Dean a sideways glare, Claire quipped, "Then I'm definitely not making those."

Dean's face slumped, a frown forming.

Claire felt her irritation skyrocketing at Dean's remark. How dare he make requests and ask for favors? In her mind this was all his fault. This micromanaging control freak… All he ever wanted was to push people around. She was sure he was the one who had planted the idea in Jody's head. And even if he wasn't, she was more than happy to blame all her misery and frustration on him.

Sam, casting an annoyed glance at Dean, felt this discussion had fallen down here and he needed to move it out of this sandtrap.

"The point is we all have chores that we each do to keep this place running. I'll show you where we keep the cleaning supplies and do the laundry. Some of this stuff is old, like really old, but it still works. I'll show you how to use it. Do you have any questions?"

Sam looked calmly at Claire, not knowing what to expect. A silence prevailed as the two men waited to see what direction Claire would take this orientation to bunker life. Claire remained quiet, although she'd clearly heard Sam. She was thinking this all over. Sam wasn't too bad, in fact she almost didn't not like him. And he could be useful.

Not knowing what else to do, Sam reiterated, "Claire, do you have any questions?"

"No, I'm good for now...as long as dickwad over there keeps his trap shut."

In unison, Sam and Dean grew angry...both standing up to their full height, their faces hardened...most especially Dean's. Claire saw this and instantly knew she'd crossed a line. It just occurred to her that she might have done well to heed their warnings and drop the disrespect and swearing right in their faces. Involuntarily she scooted further back on the bed, her head tilted up to keep her eyes on their faces. Dean took a step towards Claire and grabbed her upper arm, causing her to pull back against his grip.

Sam startled out of anger, called out warningly, "Dean, hold it. Dean…" Sam drew up next to Dean's ear and leaned in, in order to make eye contact with his brother, followed by whispering something into his ear. Expression still angered, Dean's face turned into a smile at whatever Sam had said. Claire could see this mirthful vengeance behind Dean's eyes and it unnerved her.

Still holding tight to Claire's arm, Dean stood the girl up and started pulling her towards the door and out into the hallway.

Worry steadily increasing, Claire tried desperately to free her arm. She soon realised she stood no chance against Dean's vice grip. Her mind involuntarily jumped to the words she had overheard minutes ago. 'And did you tell her about the ass beating you took after we got you back to the bunker?'

Was this where she was heading?

"Let go of me. Shit! You're hurting me, you jerk!"

In Dean's grip, Claire was going from nervous to panicky. She didn't want to let Dean know this, instead using her stream of profanity as a smokescreen as she was being forcibly led..somewhere. Sam followed behind, out of the bedroom door watching Dean leading the blonde down the hallway.

Feeling a vindicated schadenfreude, Sam surprised himself by not feeling sorry for Claire. They had given her more than enough warnings to shape up. And she needed to get the message, loud and clear, that they meant business. It was just too bad this was happening on her first day.


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Standing over the still wet linoleum, Dean had a satisfied smile as he examined the floor.

Since they'd moved in, the two men had spilled so much food and drink on the floors, this was some much needed floor maintenance. Being men, they'd clean up the worst of their spills, but a real deep clean...toothbrush in the cracks clean...they just didn't feel it was necessary. Sam had noticed Alex cleaning the kitchen floor back at Jody's place with a sponge mop and a toothbrush. Sam had never seen this done before, but the result had been spectacular. And this had just popped into his mind in time to be applied across Claire's transgressions.

This hand scrubbing with a brush, while on your knees and using a toothbrush for the corners and cracks, gave a result that was miraculous! It looked like they had new floors. This had been a great idea.

"Hey, it's time to get fresh water again. Go dump this and get back here. And grab more rags on your way back. This floor shouldn't have standing water."

Not turning to acknowledge she'd heard, Claire walked down the hall, bucket in hand, not indicating she'd heard a word he'd said. Dean didn't care. As long as she did what she was told, he was alright with this.

"Hmgh!" was the only sound out of Claire, as she stood, turning away and refusing to meet Dean's eyes. She was so angry, but she didn't know what else to do. If she made a run for it, she'd be on her own. And that's if she even made it out of the bunker. She'd agreed to this for Jody..and she just couldn't go back on this to her.

Picking up the old galvanized steel bucket, the dark brown water had a weird smell. It was all of that stuff Dean had her put in the water every time she refilled it with fresh. Capfuls of this amber-colored stuff that turned the water cloudy. This was her seventh clean bucket of water. Her knees were wet and hurt from kneeling on the hard floors and her hands were getting chapped. They didn't have any gloves.

"Alright, I'll be back to check on you. You keep at this. After you finish the hallway you can eat. We're keeping your food warm for you."

Dean was trying something different. His first instinct had been to bust Claire's butt, but with Sam's reminder that Claire needed a different approach, and this floor scrubbing idea also planted by him, Dean was feeling quite happy about how this was turning out. If he had gone ahead and tanned her ass for her attitude, like he planned to, they'd have a war on their hands. One that would make this month unbearable for all parties. He could see this now. He could also see that would lead to bringing out the big guns too early in the game. He had to give it to his brother, he was a genius in coming up with ass-busting alternatives.

As Dean walked along the untouched part of the hallway he was heading to his room at the same moment Amber was exiting the kitchen.

Amber was heading back to her room to finish Jody's essay after having dinner. She passed Claire, bucket in hand. Well, this answered the question Sam had refused to, about where Claire had been and why Amber was eating alone.

Claire made eye contact with Amber and noticed the brunette looked confused. "What?" she snapped at her friend.

"This is a long hallway. Claire, what'd you do?"

Making an abrupt sound of disgust, Claire replied, "Nothing."

Amber was pretty sure Claire said something...to Dean. She always did. Amber briefly wondered if Claire had also caught it before being made to clean this floor. She guessed she hadn't. Sam and Dean never assigned heavy chores on top of an ass beating. They could be stern, but they weren't cruel. And Amber had never had to do chores like this. Hand-scrubbing floors…And this hallway was long. She felt some sympathy for Claire, but a part of her couldn't help feeling relieved she wasn't the one doing this.

"Well, I've never seen this hallway cleaned before," was Amber's observation. "How much more do you hafta do?"

Claire, looking back behind her at the long stretch of floor that was still left, letting out a forced sigh.

"The rest of this hallway."

Taking in the long stretch of clean linoleum, and the filthy demarcation where this ended, Amber sized up the remaining time as thirty more minutes. Amber hadn't seen Claire cleaning when she'd headed into the kitchen to start dinner, and that had been about an hour ago, she decided this could have been so much worse for Claire. Not sure what she could possibly say, Amber gave Claire a small smile.

"Claire, you're lucky," she said quietly, hoping her words would offer her friend some comfort, at the very least.

"The fuck I am," was the blonde's angry response.

"You are. Believe me, whatever you did, or said, or whatever...you got off easy," Amber insisted. Despite finding this chore disgusting and hard, it was still a better option compared to an ass tanning from her brothers. Especially Dean.

"The hell I did. This is effed-up."

Still holding her bucket, Claire almost sloshed some of the dark water out as she was talking so emotionally.

"Shit...I gotta go. I just want to get this day over with."

Turning away from Amber, Claire continued on her way to the janitorial area where she'd pour this dirty water into the cement sink on the floor and fill it up with clean. This whole thing was bullshit.

Amber, watching Claire go, wondered what had happened. She was intensely curious, but she wasn't asking. Na hah. The moment she asked, the comparison between what she had received as punishment, and what Claire was receiving, would come up and no way was she inviting this image into anyone's head.

Heading back into her own room, Amber decided to work on that essay for Jody. She was two-thirds done, had four referenced citations, and needed to get it wrapped up. She'd give it about an hour before she got ready for bed. It had been a long day. At least she'd had dinner.


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The clanking of utensils against the ceramic plates, as the two brothers and Claire ate their dinner, were the only sounds that broke the heavy silence.

Claire had demanded to eat dinner in her room, but Sam insisted she sit down with them. He recognised this as the last chance they had to salvage this first day and hopefully interact with Claire in a more positive or, at the very least in a non-aggressive, manner.

Eyes cast down, silently eating, Claire was present at the table, but making her desire to be elsewhere blatant. Dean had rustled up a decent meal in short order. He was always good for one-skillet meals of meat and noodles. Tonight he'd added a can of tomatoes and one of peas since Sam was a bitch about nutrition for Amber. While not much in the way of nutrition, it was better than his usual bachelor food of meat, potatoes, and gravy. And pie.

Eating his own meal, Sam reflected that they needed to get some fresh veg, yogurt and fruit for the girls. He needed a salad...even if it was only kale.

Clearing his throat, Sam made the first attempt to break the awkward silence.

"I had Amber bring fresh towels to your room. I'm sure you'll want to take a shower before bed."

Claire offered nothing, but a barely-there nod in acknowledgement of his words.

Chewing, looking up to see if Claire responded and looking back at Sam, Dean watched this test of another bite, he decided to focus his attention at getting his own food inside.

"And hey, forgot to mention this before… we've set up a TV in room 10. There's also a dvd player and some movies. Feel free to watch anything you like," Sam attempted again.

Eyes glued on her plate, Claire asked, "Is there any internet access in here?"

She didn't plan on gracing Sam's pitiful attempts at small talk with actual responses, but this was important. She had her laptop with her and she doubted she'd survive her stay in the bunker without internet.

"We have internet," was Dean's laconic response in between bites. He'd been letting Sam lead here, but he was feeling the need to step in.

"I'll write down the password for you after we're done here," Sam said.

Claire looked up at Sam, making brief eye contact. Sam was trying to make things better. She noticed. He was being could work in her favor. Looking back down, not wishing to have to respond to either brother, Claire just wanted this night to be over.

"Sam, don't be too nice. She'll only see this as an opportunity to get something," was Dean's neutral statement.

Taking another bite, Dean just chewed as he watched Claire's face. He knew Claire had a good side to her, somewhere. He'd seen it with Jody. Heck, he'd seen it with him, Cas and Sam two years ago, during the time they spent together and before they sent her to Jody. But this situation was too new for all of them. Anything they hadn't anticipated, this could be exploited by Claire. And she would.

"I'll need it for homework," Claire whispered in response, keeping her eyes lowered and her voice controlled, and In her mind she finished her sentence with, '...dickwad.' Her tone held a sneer.

Dean, looking at Claire and then at Sam, simply shrugged his shoulders at this situation and kept on eating. Sam, not knowing what else to do, dropped all attempts to reach out to Claire and focused on his own dinner.

The door of the kitchen creaking open made all three heads turn to see Amber coming around the corner. She scanned their faces and could feel the tension that was practically radiating off of them.

"Hey," Amber said as she closed the door behind her. At the silent staring faces, she cleared her throat before heading to an empty chair next to Claire and plopping into it.

"I felt awkwardness and despair leaking out of this room and thought I'd check it out," she added in an attempt to break the silence.

The light snort that escaped Claire, and Dean's eye roll, made Amber crack a small smile. She was getting somewhere.

"Did you finish your essay?" Dean asked, looking at his sister.

"Yes, it's finally done. I'll give it another proof-reading tomorrow before emailing it to Jody. What have you guys been up to?"

"Other than the creepy cinderella reenactment?" Claire commented in a hushed tone of sarcasm.

Amber's lips twitched at the comment, but Dean beat her to an answer.

"Cinderella would be eating scraps. Not good, home - cooked food," Dean quipped in a neutral tone. "Not to mention she wouldn't have sworn at the stepmother like a sailor."

Sam looked at him, surprised. As soon as Claire's words left her mouth he would have bet money Dean would've snapped at her.

Turning to look at Dean, for the briefest of seconds, Claire returned her gaze back to her almost empty plate.

"Not sure if I'm more amused by the amount of Cinderella details you know, or the fact that you project yourself as the evil step-mother."

Amber snorted loudly at this observation and turned to watch Dean's reaction. Seeing his own lips twitching into a short-lived smirk, she felt her own shoulders relaxing a bit. Sam looked downward, smiling and hiding this.

Not saying anything else, Claire ate the last bite of her food. She was more than thankful that Amber had decided to join them and make an effort to lighten up the suffocating atmosphere. She wasn't less mad at Dean, or even Sam, not by a long shot, but something about the lighthearted banter made her feel a bit better.

Standing up, Claire was unsure if she was supposed to do her own dishes, but she was getting out of this room ASAP, and headed into the hallway and towards the kitchen.

Still seated in the dining area, Dean decided to throw a rope to this drifting boat. Raising his voice, Dean called after her as she walked towards the kitchen.

"Just put it in the sink. We'll show you how everything works in the morning."

The Winchesters watched Claire's shoulders stiffen as she paused a step in her retreat, apparently listening to his instructions. Even though she didn't acknowledge his response, Dean figured if she did as he asked, that was enough for tonight. Tomorrow was another day. They watched the blonde doing as she was told and then silently leaving the kitchen. The last bits of tension in the room eased up as Claire left the room.

Waiting till Claire's steps in the corridor became distant, muffled taps, Amber turned to look at her brothers.

"This is going to be a long month," Amber sighed.


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Pushing open the bathroom door, Claire looked around this tiled room. God, it was so old! The medicine cabinet above the sink was tiny, the mirror etched with a flowered scroll design at the top. The sink had two handles. Well, that was pretty easy. H and C. Huh? An enclosed shower. This was weird. It was a tub with a glass door. Tentatively opening the door and peering in, she saw the huge shower head. Again, two sets of handles, one set at chest height and another down below near the spout for the tub. Sure...she could figure this out.

Boldly starting the water, Claire twisted the H handle all the way around, waiting to see what would happen. The water rushed out of the showerhead, cold at first, then it grew hot, Then really hot. Claire could see the steam starting to accumulate. OK...that was easy.

Adjusting the shower's water to her prefered temperature, just a notch above lukewarm, she stepped inside. With her knees, shoulders, and lower back still aching from all the scrubbing, she couldn't wait to get all the dirt off of her and climb into her bed. Claire realized there was a bottle of shampoo and a bar of soap on the one shelf. Amber must have put these in here. Good. She'd forgotten to bring her's from Jody's. Looking around for a towel, Claire noticed, yet again, a towel had been hung up on the one towel bar behind the door.

Stepping into the shower, Claire let herself be enveloped by this warm water, cascading down her, and feeling like a sanctuary away from everything else. Standing there, Claire just let this feeling of respite soothe her mind. She stood there for a few minutes, feeling better.

Getting done with her hair first she used the sponge she had brought with her to scrub at her body. Paying special attention to her hands and forearms, which had contact with that disgusting patina of aged hallway dirt, she finished her shower in less than twenty minutes. Wrapping herself up in the towel, she stepped out of the shower and grabbed the pile of dirty clothes which she'd dumped on the floor. Stuffing them in the laundry hamper next to the sink, she walked out of the bathroom and headed for her room, leaving a trail of wet footprints behind her.

Pushing open her bedroom door, Claire had the odd sense of having experienced this before. It was the first time in a new home...all those first times.

Closing the door behind her, she unconsciously reached behind her, to turn the key in the lock, only to realise there wasn't one. Groaning loudly, this lack of privacy was so frustrating, she grabbed her duffel bag and headed to the far right corner of the room in order to get dressed behind the dresser. She'd grown used to her privacy at Jody's. Though she doubted that they'd just barge in, the fact that the Winchesters could, this was so infuriating.

Pulling on a shirt and sweatpants, Claire was starting to feel, well, refreshed after such a tough day. Sitting on the bed, she noticed it squeaked a little, but otherwise, the mattress felt fine. A little flat, but she'd slept on far worse.

Toweling her hair a bit more, getting as much water out as she could, she used her fingers to comb through to the ends since it looked like she'd be going to bed with wet hair. God, she hoped she didn't get sick. Had she remembered to grab the hairdryer? Rummaging in her backpack, she didn't find it. Shit!

She'd have to ask Amber if she had one that she could share with her. Or Sam maybe. That last thought brought a smirk to her face as she continued running her fingers through her hair. A knock at the door startled her. She stood still, not knowing who it was and if she wanted to answer it. When she didn't respond, a repeated knock at her door, a bit more urgent now, was followed by Amber's voice.

"Claire. Hey Claire.

Getting off the bed and walking to the door, the blonde opened it. Amber was holding out a hair dryer, an open expression of friendliness on her face

"Great minds think alike," Claire commented with a small smirk.

"Thought you'd might not have packed one," Amber said. "When I first moved here, with nothing but the clothes I was in, the guys didn't have one. Till we went shopping I was sleeping with wet hair and it was the worst."

Claire was impressed by how thoughtful Amber was, but chose not to comment on it. She briefly wondered how all other aspects of having a teen girl living in this pithole had gone down when Amber first started living here.

"Sam didn't have one?" was Claire's only comment as she moved to the dresser and plugged the dryer in the socket on the wall right next to it. "I'm surprised."

"I really wish I had thought of making that comment back then," Amber quipped, a sly smile lighting up her eyes.

"Thanks for this. I'll return it in the morning. Now, please get out. I'm beat. I just wanna dry off and sleep."

"Sure thing. I'll see you tomorrow," Amber nodded and left.

"Bright and early," Claire mumbled as she turned on the hair dryer and focused her attention on her reflection in the small mirror that hung above the wooden dresser.

The loud sound of the hairdryer contrasted with the old decor in the room...in the bunker really. Nothing was set up for modern living...except the internet she supposed. How the hell did they manage that?

The hot air from the hair dryer felt good and Claire took advantage of this opportunity to aim the nozzle down her back, hot air ballooning up her shirt and feeling good against her skin. She did this in the front, too. After a moment she returned to getting her hair dry.

Done with this chore, Claire rummaged in her backpack, finding her laptop and cellphone. She'd have to plug these both in. Good, she'd brought the adapters and chargers. Placing her laptop on the desk, she noticed a green post-it stuck to the desk's surface. Written in neat handwriting was, what was most likely, the wi-fi password.

After setting up her laptop and plugging it in, she turned her attention to her phone. As soon as she unlocked it she saw the notifications of two missed calls Tapping on them she saw they were both from Jody. Claire stared at the screen for a long moment, biting her bottom lip, thumb hovering an inch above the touch screen. She felt torn. Part of her wanted nothing more than to hear the woman's voice. Another part of her wanted to get back at Jody in the only way she had left. The silent treatment.

She didn't have much time to contemplate her revenge. Her phone vibrated and Claire saw the screen with Jody's incoming call. She was calling her again. The concern Jody had for her, Claire involuntarily found herself getting a bit teary-eyed. Shit! This wasn't her plan of revenge.

Hesitating until the fourth ring, Claire hit the button. Hearing Jody's voice coming through the speaker, Claire felt herself starting to crumble even before she put the phone to her ear.

"Claire? Claire? You there, honey?"

Jody's voice wrapped her in a sense of safety. And Claire was feeling herself actually tearing up, a tear drop escaping down her cheek. She brushed it away.

"Yeah," Claire answered in a hushed tone, trying hard to keep her voice from cracking.

"How are you? Did you guys have a nice trip?"

"Yes. It was fine. I'm fine," Claire managed to get out.

Pause. The extended silence on the other side made Claire draw in a shaky breath.

"Oh, Claire… You're not fine. What's up? Did anything happen?"

Where to begin…..Claire kept her mouth shut.

"I'm fine Jody," was Claire unconvincing reassurance. Even she thought she sounded like she was lying.

"Claire, honey. I know it's going to be tough. Just hang in there and just take in as much of this opportunity as you can." Jody sounded so kind. Her sweet tone, her words… Everything about her contrasted so intently with the harsh night she'd had. Claire lost it.

Sobbing, Claire held the phone away from her ear, not being able to take this anymore. From the phone's receiver, she could hear Jody's voice upset for her, trying to soothe her.

"Claire, sweetie. Talk to me."

Deciding to soak up Jody's concern, Claire returned the phone to her ear, hearing the woman's voice clearly.

"I'm here," was all Claire could get out.

"Claire. Oh, sweetie, I know it's hard. I really do, but you will feel better tomorrow. I promise." Here the sheriff let her voice stop so she could allow Claire to absorb what she was saying...and encourage Claire to speak to her. Jody waited patiently. She could hear Claire getting it together.

Taking in a deep cleansing breath, Claire felt the initial rush of emotions settling. She felt she could speak now without sounding like a pussy.

"I'm OK, Jody. Dean is such an assho…." and this is where Jody stepped up her game.

"Claire. I know Dean can be tough. But remember, he's lived through so much more than either of us have. Sam, too. And this is what I want for you, to live. Do you hear me? I want you to live!"

Here, Jody's voice was emphatic and desperate. Claire heard the hopelessness tingeing her voice.

"I know, Jody. I know," Claire answered, her voice almost resigned. How many more times would she have to hear those words being thrown in her face?

"Give them a chance. Give this a chance. Trust me, Dean will grow on you. He always does. You just never had the chance to really get to know him," Jody continued. "And Sam isn't half as bad, now, is he?"

Silence on her end, Claire was considering how to answer and not sound like Jody was right.

"Sam's pretty nice, isn't he?" Jody was sounding mildy smug in a gentle tease. Claire found herself smiling at Jody's "told you so" tone.

"Alright, I don't dislike Sam," was Claire's response, knowing Jody could hear her smile over the phone. "But Dean's still an asshole."

"Claire, a bit of advice. Don't call him this. You'll make your life a whole lot harder than it has to be." Here Jody left off...wondering if Claire knew that she was likely to get herself into a whole new level of trouble with Dean if she kept up this attitude.

"You know what? I think I haven't called him an asshole," Claire answered, smugly.

"Does that mean you called him something similar...to his face?" Jody's question was laced with fear at what the answer would be.

"A dickwad. Asshole's too overdone, don't you think?" Claire asked. She found herself smiling at her own words, but the ache in her shoulders, back, and knees...this reminded her what the price had been, turning her smugness into irritation in less than a second.

"And how did that go?" was Jody's smug response.

Silence on Claire's end told Jody something had gone down.

"Oh, it went over that well, did it?" Jody's concern for Claire was morphing into an informed view of what Claire's first day had been like.

Claire remained silent. Something told her whining to Jody, about how she had spent the last hour before dinner, wouldn't earn her much sympathy.

"Honey, word of advice, don't poke the bear." Not hearing any response, Jody decided to let her words drop in sound bytes.

"You have an opportunity to become an outstanding hunter and learn from the best. Take this."

"This is like boot camp. You've been thrown into training and everything you knew before is changing and being replaced by something better. It doesn't feel better right now. It's grueling, but it'll reshape you into a far better hunter."

Listening, Claire recognized the woman's pep talk: Motherly concern with a butt-kicking to drive it home. Smirking on her end, Claire felt comforted. This was all Jody.

"Yeah, I know." Claire's words were followed by a deep yawn.

"Okay, I think It's time to hang up. You'll need your rest."

"Yeah… Thanks for calling, Jody. It helped.," Claire spoke into the phone, a finger nervously twirling one of her long blonde locks.

"Goodnight, honey."

"Goodnight."

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Will you please write us a review and tell us everything you felt, discovered, or enjoyed. How did this suprise you? What did you think of our character depictions? Did we upset you? Did you enjoy this " episode" of Supernatural and how we wrote Claire? How could we have made it better?

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MarionLuth & LauWhisperer