Where The Wild Things Are

by MarionLuth

As Sam & Dean investigate a young singer, who shares their Winchester name & face, their lives collide. And...she's hiding a dangerous secret. A Supernatural dramedy deeply developed & richly written, with strong canon characters. Angels, demons, the earth's only Nephilim, Lucifer, Crowley, Jody Mills, Claire, Alex, the boys & a teen girl with the heart of an angel. Spanking.

23. ---And The Things We Don't Need

Chapter 23

...And The Things We Don't Need

Title Credit: "In the name of misbehavior and the things we don't need…" Lyrics from the song Carnival of Rust, by Poets of the Fall (Album: Carnival of Rust, 2006)

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As the distance narrowed, up ahead they saw the Impala, black and shiny in the morning sun. Despite it being a cool, crisp December morning, none of them noticed this beautiful clarity. The gently sprawling plains of Kansas, never growing higher than a twelve foot swell of land, were lined by the unfurling grid of miles of wire fence lining the road. With only this fence-lined ribbon of pavement to disrupt the plains, it had a barren beauty to it. None of this was noticed by the occupants of the two cars on this road as they each hauled ass.

The bunker had been built far away from prying eyes in the least suspecting location: Rural Kansas in the 1940s. Post WWII, many of the locals had already migrated to the coasts in search of work during the wartime effort, never to return. Those left had been older, and more inclined to keep to themselves, not exhibiting much curiosity...which was how this bunker had been so stealthily built. Overseas contractors, coming in to do this highly specialized construction, found their work was secretly completed with fewer people to ask questions. And out in the middle of these beautiful and remote fields, even in this modern time, in this modern place...the enduring starkness and obscure location of the bunker hadn't been observed by this current generation, either.

Eyes darting to the rearview mirror, Claire watched the car behind closing up on her. It was really closing up on her fast. The distance diminishing between them with every passing second.

Claire narrowed her eyes in an effort to see what kind of car it was and figure out why they didn't keep their distance. Did they need something?

The next thing that registered in her mind was the color. That vibrant purple color. Her focus fractured between looking ahead on the road and behind her in the rearview mirror, she gasped when she realized what she was seeing. A Challenger. An old, purple, Dodge Challenger. Retrieving the significance of this knowledge from her memory, Claire's recollection of Amber's story of her driving such a car, a car kept in the bunker's garage, made her mouth go dry. Fuck!

Gulping, she focused her attention solely on the road ahead. The realisation of what she had done hit her like a bus, leaving her breathless and panicked. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

Pressing down on the gas pedal was the only thing she could do. A vain attempt to escape the inevitable. What the hell had she been thinking? Now what? Slamming a hand against the wheel, she stole a glance at the rearview mirror. The Dodger was easily catching up to her. If she kept driving like this she'd be out of gas in less than ten minutes. FUCK!

Seeing her ahead of them, Dean sped up towards the Impala, pulling up alongside the black car. God, his foot was practically drilling a hole through the floorboard.

Seeing Claire in the driver's seat, Dean waved his right arm authoritatively, pointing to the side of the road indicating she should pull over. From the driver's seat, in her peripheral vision, Claire could see a fierce anger on Dean's face. Sam was leaning back to allow eye contact between Dean and Claire, a frown and hard brow lines expressing his own upset. Not daring to make eye contact with the occupants of the Challenger, Claire kept right on driving, eyes ahead. Her peripheral glance was unsettling enough. She was scared. And like a cat who darts into the road only to find a car, and instinctively darting back to its original location only to be hit, Claire was making things much worse for herself.

Cas, sensing Claire was panicking, rolled down his window and called her name loudly.

Claire could barely hear him over the roar of the two muscle cars, but she did realize it was Cas that was calling. Not Dean. Stealing a glance at him, she felt her stomach churning. Despite her panicky state she knew his presence could play in her favor. Still, she simply couldn't get herself to follow Dean's signaled order. That would mean he'd get his hands on her. And she didn't want that to happen. Knowing how futile simply driving ahead was, she still kept doing this, eyes glued on the open road ahead.

Not getting the response he wanted, Dean enacted the only maneuver he had left. Speeding up even more, he pulled ahead of the Impala, overtaking the car by fifteen feet, and started to impose the Impala's hulk into Claire's lane. Dean was forcing her off of the road.

The shoulder of the road was gravelly, and very narrow with a drainage ditch full of slush not eight feet from the side of the road. Claire was pinned in.

Pulling in front of the Impala, completely aware he may end up making Claire crash into the side of the Challenger, Dean kept the precision of his driving locked in...and it paid off. Dean slowed down as he eased into her lane, forcing Claire to slow right along with him. Braking hard, Claire was trying to avoid crashing. She was still moving, but at a much slower speed now. Finally, her brakes squealing as she stomped on them hard, she brought this half-ton of Detroit Steel to the side of the road.

When she came to a dead stop, Dean was the first one out of the Challenger, sprinting around to the Impala's driver's side door, ripping it open and dragging Claire out by her arm. Sam and Cas were both out now, standing next to them, eyes intense, breathing shallow and tight, the smell of burning brake lining acrid in the air.

Claire felt her stomach dropping to her feet as Dean pulled her out of the car. Her usual remarks, her default swearing, nothing seemed to push through this thick fear that had flooded her brain.

Cas, now standing next to Claire and Dean, exclaimed loudly, "Dean!"

His tone was both imploring and cautionary. And it was powerful. It made the oldest Winchester pause and turn to look at the angel.

Not wishing to add to Claire's high stress, Cas didn't comment on how much Dean needed to calm down. His intense look was predominant and Dean felt the commanding presence this powerful being was due.

"I will drive Claire back to the bunker. You and Sam can ride in the Impala," he instructed, looking at Dean intently, hoping he would heed his words, and therefore understand their deeper meaning.

Sam, seeing the wisdom of Cas' implied warning to not escalate this incendiary situation, found this an excellent plan.

"Yeah, Dean. Let Cas take Claire," came Sam's deepened voice. Squared shoulders intimating his willingness to back up this idea with force if need be.

Claire saw this, and knew she was being placed into protective custody with Cas on the way back to the bunker. Here, again, the giant was intervening and she was benefiting.

Jagged, angry energy pouring from him, Dean didn't say a thing, allowing Sam to take Claire's arm and guide her to the Challenger, where Cas had stepped to the driver's side door as he watched this scene. Feeling Claire's arm sliding from his hand, Dean felt he was being managed by these two and somewhere, back in the reasoning part of his mind, knew this was best. He was a virtual observer to this whole scene. His own limbic system was seeing red, his fight-or-flight response threatening to induce actions he would regret later. Like an observer at a crash site, he watched the careful extraction of the survivor, allowing this intervention.

Claire didn't resist as Sam guided her to the Challenger. Getting in, she glanced to her left, seeing Cas taking the seat behind the wheel next to her. Sam closed her door and tapped his hand on the car's hood. Seconds later, the Challenger roared to life and Cas backed it up, flipped a U-turn, and drove in the opposite direction back towards the bunker.

Sam turned back to Dean, watching his brother climbing into the Impala, caressing the steering wheel and dashboard as if he was soothing a frightened horse. Getting himself in, Sam glanced over at Dean and watched him put the Impala into drive and release the emergency brake.

"You sure you can drive? I don't mind taking over," Sam offered despite already knowing Dean's answer.

"Shut up, Sam," he answered in a clipped tone, pulling the Impala out onto the road, whipping the car around with his too-fast tight turn, and headed along the road as he intended to catch up to the Challenger.

"Dude… You need to calm down. I mean it! I'm not letting you anywhere near Claire until you do," Sam said in an urgent tone.

"Exactly why you need to shut up, Sam! Let me calm the fuck down!"

Noticing the vein in Dean's forehead pulsing visibly, Sam knew he needed to up his game. 'Cause this…this was definitely not Dean calming down.

"Dean, roll the window down," Sam commanded, knowing his brother wasn't thinking clearly and needed this cold realization to clear his mind.

"No, Sam. I'm not fucking rolling down the window in Decmeber. Are you crazy?" was Dean's expected retort. Sam was ready for this.

"Dean, do it. Do it now or I'm taking over driving. I mean it, Dean. Roll down the fucking window!"

Dean knew this tone. Sam didn't use it often, but when he did, Dean had learned to take his brother seriously.

Silently complying, Dean rolled down his window, cranking the handle, and allowing the cold air to rush into the cab, chilling them and whipping Sam's hair around. The icy shock of this bone-chilling wind was calming Dean's anger. Sam kept his eyes on his brother and felt his own anger ratchet down a few notches in tandem with Dean's.

After a few silent seconds, Sam let his gaze drift unfocused out his window. Not looking at his brother as the freezing air rushed against them, he said, "You know… For a minute back there… I got this intense deja vu."

Eyes never leaving the road, Dean asked, "What are you talking about?"

"Flagstaff. You remember Flagstaff?" Sam asked, now turning to glance at his brother.

Dean visibly gulped, but remained silent, simply nodding.

"Your eyes, when you got hold of Claire… Dean, that's how dad looked at me when he kicked in the cabin's door and found me. Do you remember what happened after that?"

Dean's eyes shifted uncomfortably in the confines of the car, his jaw clenching. He remembered. He wished he didn't, but he remembered. He felt his stomach churn uneasily not only at the memory and what it entailed, but also at the fact that Sam hadn't said it yet, but was drawing parallels between him and their father in that particular situation. His grip tightened on the steering wheel and he took in a deep breath of cold air.

Sam watched him intently, assessing Dean's shifting facial expression and his movements. Reminding him of this incident was a good call. He could see it was working.

"You can't go there with the girls. Not with Claire, not with Amber! Ever!"

Dean was silent in his agreement. And the memory was disturbing. This conversation was sobering.

"You know, I still have that scar," Sam commented, twisting the knife deeper into this toxic memory.

Blanching, Dean was coming back to himself and feeling sadness for what his then thirteen-year old brother had endured. And Sam had still been such a shrimp back then. The guilt Dean carried with him all these years, for not being able to stop their father, this had become another lead weight bearing down and adding to the immense responsibility he'd borne. He hadn't held a grudge against John for the harsh beating he'd taken, their father coming home to a missing Sam, but he did for what John did to Sammy.

"You really think I could… That I would lose it like that?"

"Dean, just now...the look on your face, it scared me. It scared us all. Claire probably thought she was going to be torn apart. You looked just like dad. I know you never crossed the line like that with me… But I just can't NOT tell you this. Especially now that we've got, not one but two, kids in our care."

Dean was silent, listening to this, really listening. He'd not been able to stop their father and it had haunted him all these years. The mere thought of him being the John Winchester in this situation made him cringe and he was feeling a bit nauseous. And this was enough of a shock to bring him down from the inflamed intensity of his anger. Taking in a deep breath, he let it out...feeling his chest loosen and then his mental inferno dampening down, the metaphorical oxygen siphoning off, unable to sustain his fiery anger. Taking in another breath and letting it out, both men could feel the shift in the energy in the Impala's interior and Dean felt he could breathe again.

"Thanks, Sammy," eyes still on the road, in the manner of men, sharing crucial conversation side-by-side, Dean was calmer now and realizing he was lucky to have his brother's viewpoint.

Hands aching from the cold, Dean made quick work of rolling the window back up. The brothers slipped into a resolved silence, each keeping to their own thoughts.

Sam could finally shift the focus of his thoughts, from calming Dean down, to dealing with the situation at hand. As he and Cas had predicted, Claire had reached her boiling point, shifting from subtle challenging to outright disobedience and breaking a major rule. And by taking the Impala… she had made it personal. She had made clear who she was seeking to act as her grounding force. Who she expected to hold her accountable.

"So… How are we handling this?" Sam asked.

"By whooping her ass."

"That's the extent of your insight?" Sam scoffed.

"What more is there, Sam?" Dean asked. His voice sounded tired.

"She's spinning out of control!"

"I know, Sam, that's why we brought her here. To smack some sense into her. Literally."

"Today… Today wasn't just about pissing you off. You realize that, right?"

"Oh, yeah? And what was it about?"

"Connection. With you," Sam supplied. At the clearly confused glance Dean shot him, he tried to explain it a bit more.

"This wasn't a running-away attempt. She didn't get her stuff, she didn't even get a coat. That means she didn't have a plan. This was an impulsive decision. And she didn't just leave the bunker. She took your car when she could have taken any other car. She's screaming for your attention, man."

"Well, she's got it. And I doubt she'll want any more of it once I'm done with her," Dean replied drily.

"Dean, I'm serious. If we want to get through to her, if we really want these weeks to have an impact, you need to walk the extra mile with her. Establish a connection. Build something positive."

Dean turned to look at his brother incredulously. "Are you listening to yourself? That kid hates my guts! And she's gonna hate my guts ten times more after the ass-tanning she's got coming."

"You might think that… hell, she might think that, but actions speak louder than words. And I'm telling you, Dean, she needs you. And she's telling you in the only way she knows, by lashing out. She used to be like that with Jody, too in the beginning. Don't you remember? The endless phone calls, Jody's worry she wasn't reaching Claire, her fear about the girl's safety whenever she did something stupid to test Jody…"

Sam watched the gears turning in his brother's head.

"Amber was like this at the beginning, too. Testing, distrusting, lashing out every chance she got… Still is to an extent, I guess, but she's doing much better."

"And where are you in all of this? Hell, where's Cas? He's in the goddamn meatsuit of her father. Why isn't she targeting him?" Dean asked in an annoyed tone. This was yet another weight on his shoulders. Yet another thing he had to make sure he wouldn't screw up. And with all the chaos and uncertainty of Amber's situation, he felt simply drained.

"I don't know. I guess the fact that Cas is in that body has made her barricade herself off from him. Not letting her feel anything. And who could blame her? How could she easily trust or bond with the creature who stole her father from her? If she sought guidance from him she'd be wide open to be hurt again. If she didn't manage to get close to Castiel it would feel like her father abandoned her for a second time. I guess she's focusing on you because of the safety of the distance. And because you're the only one who has, so far, actively tried to protect her."

Dean could see the reasoning behind Sam's words. It was a revelation. Like a brand new pair of wipers removing detritus from a dirty windshield, Sam's words were revealing the road ahead.

"You tried to protect her, too. You were with me every single time," he only commented, still trying to make more sense of this situation.

"I wasn't the one who read her the riot act every single time, was I? It was always you. Bringing her back to Jody's, scolding, threatening, lecturing. I was just a neutral presence. You were taking it personally. You always take it personally when kids are involved." Sam offered his interpretation.

"Dammit, Sammy. You were supposed to become a lawyer, not a goddamn shrink."

Small smirk forming, Sam shrugged a shoulder. "When I had to pick my major I literally flipped a coin between the two. Does that mean you get what I'm saying here?"

"Yeah, Sam, I do."

"Good. And I believe we need to call Jody and bring her up to speed."

"Right," Dean agreed.

"Dean… It's almost a week already… that Claire's been here. I don't think a month is going to cut it."

Letting out a long sigh, Dean nodded. "Me either, Sammy. Me either."

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Claire was trying hard to focus her attention on the flow of the white lines vanishing beneath the car. This image of steady, and seemingly fluid motion, used to be able to soothe and calm her down even on her most worked up days. Today it didn't seem to do the trick. At this point, she wasn't sure if she wanted Castiel to drive faster or slower. A headache circling the crown of her head, she brought her hands up to her temples, massaging the pressure.

Castiel was peripherally focused on Claire, watching her movements intently. They'd been driving for a little more than five minutes in complete silence. He sensed Claire's internal turmoil hadn't settled down. Her anger and sadness...her worry. Glancing at her, he saw her eyes dart away from his own and he felt compelled to reach out somehow.

"Claire, how can I help?" he attempted, awkwardly.

"You can't," was the sound of the door slamming shut. Claire simply refused to open up and let the damn angel glimpse at the vulnerable and fearful state she was in.

Not discouraged, seeing behind this facade and how very much she wanted someone to care, Cas tried again.

"Where were you headed?" Glancing sideways, while carefully dividing his attention between the road and his passenger, Cas watched Claire's body language and energy shift. His question went unanswered…verbally. She did answer his inquiry indirectly with her shifting in her seat, her stoic mask, her scent of fear. Cas could tell Dean had scared her a lot. And he understood this. Dean's face had been truly intimidating in his anger...and that was why Cas had intervened.

"You didn't pack your things," Cas noted.

Claire couldn't help but scoff at that. The sound of his voice made her glance at his face almost involuntarily. That was the voice of her father. Surprising even herself she answered him with a quiet, "Why should I? It's not like I have anywhere to go. Jody won't take me back until this stupid month is over."

Cas heard the well-disguised fear and discontent in her seemingly indifferent tone and knew he had to tread carefully. Now that she had engaged with him, he needed to make sure he'd keep her talking. The fact that her answer included Jody made him realise this could very well be his way in. When he opened his mouth he spoke carefully, quietly, afraid that if he used the wrong volume or tone she'd snap shut again.

"Jody knows Sam and Dean can really help you."

Claire let out a short sarcastic chuckle at that. "Yeah! Dean looked sooo helpful just now!" Her comment was taunting, but she involuntarily shivered at the memory of the man's fiercosity when he got her out of the car.

Cas couldn't help but grimace slightly at that.

"Dean's anger… it's intense. I know he scared you. He scared me a bit, too. He tends to get really angry when those he cares about act recklessly or when they break his trust."

He paused there, glancing at Claire and offering her time and space to speak if she wanted to. When she only rolled her eyes and stared out of her window he continued. "He has been through a lot. And he's coping for the most part. But there are times and situations in which he is struggling, just like everyone else. The important thing to know is, he'd never harm someone he cares about."

"Yeah, well… I'm not in that subgroup, so…" Was Claire's bitter comment.

His suspicions confirmed, Cas shook his head, "But you are Claire. You don't know everything that's going on in his life right now. Let me assure you, had he not cared about you, he wouldn't have offered this opportunity to you. Especially not now. He wouldn't devote his time to someone he didn't care about."

Claire's arms crossed over her chest, her face turned to look stubbornly out the window. She wanted to believe Castiel. And she knew he had a point. But she couldn't let herself accept his words. After all, other than the angel's words, and her suspicions that the WInchesters were keeping some sort of big secret, she had zero proof about any of this.

Cas knew she was far from convinced. He also knew today's actions were her own unconscious and desperate attempt to test this deeply-rooted assumption of hers; Dean didn't care.

The angel's thoughts traveled to what would follow their arrival at the bunker. He knew that Sam would make sure Dean would have calmed down before approaching anything with Claire. But he also knew that there was no way Dean wouldn't dish out physical discipline for this. Claire broke one of the major rules and conditions of her stay. And she stole Dean's car, too. There was only one way this could play out. He couldn't say he objected to the way Dean was bound to handle this. Castiel had seen this approach working with Amber. And it was a well accepted reality in their life. He didn't have to like it though. Deciding that the only way he could make this better for Claire was to offer some reassurance and attempt to eliminate some of her fear, he gathered his next thoughts.

"He won't discuss any of this with you before he's calmed down enough," he offered.

Claire gulped uneasily again. When she spoke her tone was clipped, laced with worry she couldn't conceal. "I don't think there'll be much discussion nvolved."

"In fact, there will be," Cas countered evenly. "There will be quite a bit of talking involved. But the important thing is Dean will have calmed down from what you saw. I am guessing he will still be angry with your actions, but it will be reasonable."

Castiel's words held some sort of reassurance, but Claire didn't know what to make of this comment. And she sure as hell didn't know how to respond to it. The incredulity of her situation hit her. There she was sitting in a muscle car, heading to the goddamn Winchester lair, talking to an angel who had stolen her father's body, about the beating she was about to get from Dean-fucking-Winchester. What the actual fuck!

"I know it does not feel like it, Claire, but it's going to be okay," Castiel offered, sympathetically.

"Fuck off, Clarence!"

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She felt it before she heard it, the Impala and the Challenger were back in the bunker's garage.

Sitting in the library, legs draped sideways over the arm of her favorite chair, Amber had stayed behind in the bunker when the emergency retrieval of Claire had gone was only the second time Sam and Dean had trusted her, or rather had been forced to trust her, to do so. Her finger playing with the tip of the page she'd been reading, she wondered if she should go to her room while she had the chance or keep a low profile and stay quietly where she was. This way she might get to watch at least some of what was about to go down with Claire without appearing too nosy.

When she heard the door open she inched her head down trying to get a better view of who would be coming down the stairs to the War Room. First the hard shoes, and then the hem of Castiel's raincoat, were the first things to appear, followed by Claire's black, Converse-covered feet. She watched them reach the large table, standing there awkwardly when it was apparent they were waiting for Sam and Dean. Claire was shifting her weight from hip to hip, arms crossed over her chest, her face the epitome of perfect indifference...which was a lie. Amber knew better. Watching Claire's masked fear, Amber couldn't help but marvel at how brave she was. In the same position, Amber doubted she'd be that cool and collected. Had she been in the blonde's shoes right now, ready to face Dean after sneaking out and stealing Baby, there was no way she'd manage to keep up a couldn't-care-less facade. If she hadn't been so mad at Claire for trying to get her in trouble that morning, she'd be concerned about her. She clearly was upset and having a very hard time. But Amber was mad at her. And she wouldn't care. Despite that stubborn thought, her eyes remained focused at Claire and she couldn't help the churning sensation of her stomach, uncomfortably knowing what was in store for her. After all, Amber had been there before.

"Amber, I think it would be best if you gave all of us some privacy."

Castiel's voice in her mind made Amber jump in her seat, the book she held falling on the floor with a loud thud. She wasn't used to this type of communication with the angel.

Looking towards the sound, Claire's face turned towards the library, nervous and jumpy. Emerging from out of sight, Amber appeared as she prudently decided to make an escape to her room.

Eyes meeting, Claire and Amber silently assessed each other, Amber descending to the floor of the War Room as she passed Cas and Claire. Oh man, Amber felt the fear and was starting to pick up images that felt too real. Goddam, she needed to get out of there fast. Her pace quickened and she headed towards the kitchen and hallways, disappearing into her room. Shutting the door, she leaned her back against it as if she were barricading this panic away from her. While not exactly feeling sorry for Claire, Amber didn't feel happy for her misfortune, either. This was going to be bad.

Back in the War Room, Claire and Castiel's eyes snapped upwards as the bunker door was heard opening for a second time. The Impala had caught up to them a few miles before they'd reached the bunker, following them into the garage. Sam and Dean seemed to need another minute alone in the car. Cas had caught onto that and got Claire inside the bunker first so the two men could finish their talk.

Waiting in the War Room, the angel and Claire watched the Winchesters descending the stairs, faces serious and tense.

Claire's eyes lingered on Dean and she noticed he didn't seem as furious as he had been thirty minutes ago. She hoped she was right. Her heart started beating faster as the two brothers approached them.

Exchanging a look, the brothers seemed to have a plan, with Sam nodding to Cas and indicating that the angel should follow him, which Cas did. Walking past Claire to reach Sam, Cas squeezed the girl's shoulder, making her turn surprised eyes up to him. The discreet gesture lasted less than a second. Cas followed Sam into the kitchen.

Then it was just Dean and Claire.

Dean pulled out a chair and sat down at the large table, indicating that Claire should take a seat across from him.

Surprised, but entirely ready to be a table away from him, Claire pulled out a chair and slowly sat down, keeping an eye on Dean in the most peripheral manner she could muster.

Once seated, Dean cleared his throat.

"Why the Impala?"

Dean didn't waste time working up to his point. Slightly taken back by the bluntness of this, Claire noticed Dean's eyes were irritated, but not raging, his shoulders lowered, his hands were casually clasped together resting on the table.

Unsure of what to make of his question she took in a steadying breath.

" 'Cause I always wanted to drive it," she got out as quickly as possible trying to keep her voice even. She couldn't look vulnerable to Dean. She wouldn't.

Well, this was probably truthful, and Dean understood this. However, this was only the start.

"And what was your plan?"

"Plan for what?" was Claire's pissy response.

"Really? You're giving me an attitude right now?"

He hadn't yelled. His voice was completely composed. Yet his tone and warning look made Claire visibly stiffen up. Lowering her eyes, she remained silent.

"Your plan, Claire. What was your plan for AFTER you got caught?"

"I think it's clear there wasn't much planning involved. I wouldn't be here right now if there had been," Claire answered with as much cockiness as she dared. "I just wanted to drive the Impala."

"So you just went into my room, stole my keys, got into my car, and drove off, not ever considering that you'd eventually have to come back here? That we'd eventually catch on to what you'd done?" Dean asked, sarcastically. "You actually expect me to buy this?"

Shifting in her chair, Claire was visibly uncomfortable with this question, still she kept her face stoic, a mask. But the twitch of her mouth was a dead giveaway. Claire had planned nothing and yet, her whole reason for this had been because she felt invisible, worthless. Dean's intense gaze unnerved her. Slowly but steadily she was losing her calm.

"Here's what I think is happening," Dean said, when it was clear she wasn't going to answer his question.

"I think you stole my car and left the bunker without asking for permission because you wanted to see what would happen if you ignored our rules. I think you didn't have a plan because you wanted to be caught. And I think you're testing me to see if I'm actually gonna tan your ass like I promised I would if you broke the rules."

Claire was so uncomfortable listening to Dean's spot on analysis, it was painful for him to watch. She sat there, jaw getting tighter, left eye twitching, arms getting tighter across her chest, her frown deepening.

He let her suffer silently for almost a minute, shifting in her seat under his accusation.

Wordlessly, Claire's face colored and she looked off to the side of the room, unable to deny any of this.

"So, let me clear things up for you. I am gonna tan your ass like I promised. That's a given. That's how this little talk of ours is gonna end," Dean said in a hard tone. He let his words hang in the air for a few seconds.

Claire felt her throat tightening and her chest constricting her breath. She hated this. She felt her face flush and despised that she had to sit there and listen to his mortifying pronouncement. She had mentally prepared herself for the physical part of this ordeal, but not for this. She had come to terms with the fact there might be tears involved, but not before Dean was actually hitting her. And there she was, all flushed and already feeling the waterworks starting. She felt her eyes glistening. Realizing how obvious her discomfort was, her anger was spiking.

"Then go ahead and do it," she ground out, hating how weak and trembling her voice sounded.

Dean simply shook his head. "No. Not so fast. 'Cause I don't think you're really getting why we're here right now. "

He watched her intently for a few more seconds trying to decide where he could go from there. At this point he wished Sam was in the room with him. He'd know to ask the perfect question to get to the bottom of this.

"And why the hell does that matter? All you care about is beating me up for this, so just grow a pair and get on with it," Claire snapped at him, her voice wavering, loud in her fear and frustration.

Dean's eyebrows furrowed, his mouth dropping open.

"That's what you think this is? You think this is all I care about?" Dean's voice was rising in volume as he questioned Claire's thinking.

"Well, damn, Claire! I never thought you were stupid, but that's clearly the case. Cause anyone with a working brain would be able to tell I wouldn't spend whole days of my life driving back and forth to Sioux Falls to save your ass if I didn't think your life was worth saving. I wouldn't bother trying to get through to you if all I cared about was 'beating you up'. I wouldn't talk or yell or goddamn be there if I didn't care, would I?"

Claire's mouth went dry. Her mind was whirling, her body was uncoordinated, and she was glad she was sitting down. Against expectations, her eyes were starting to glisten even more and Claire felt herself tearing up. Dean could see this, too. He was getting somewhere now.

"I wouldn't offer to bring you here, to train you right along with Amber, despite our situation, if all I cared about was 'beating you up'," Dean was now practically yelling.

"But this is all you've ever cared about. You're always dragging me back to Jody's and just dumping me there!"

"Well, yeah. You and Jody have your thing. I'm just big enough to get you back to Jody's. Getting you in line, that wasn't my job. The rest was between you and Jody. I've always respected your...whatever stuff you and Jody have. I'm not a part of that."

"Yeah, well, maybe you should fucking be a part of that, Dean! You never asked me if I wanted to just be shipped off to Jody's! You never showed up once when I wasn't screwin up hunts! You weren't there for me. You were there for Jody," was Claire's teary, angry response.

Now it was Dean who felt stabbed in the heart. She'd felt that? He had no words as his mind was processing this revelation. Sam might have brought things into some sort of focus for him during their car ride, but this was not even close to what he'd been expecting.

Claire watched Dean's face, and she was seeing his utterly devastated confusion, as he sorted through hers.

Pushing his chair away from the table, the legs squeaking loudly, Dean got to his feet, and Claire's eyes darted to him, apprehension gripping her face.

Dean needed to get up; he needed to think and no way could he sit still any longer. His eyes cast off to the side of the room as he was gathering his thoughts and his feelings. He was hurt and he was unaware of Claire's compressed fear at him suddenly standing up. Dean's thinking had always been physical. Pacing, wild gesticulation, angry wall punches...Dean had to feel his emotions through his body before he could even begin to understand them in his mind.

Claire's eyes never left him as he began to walk back and forth across the space, left arm tucked under the other, right hand rubbing his chin. Dean's pacing brought him closer to where Claire sat.

"Okay… Let's...let's sort some things out," he finally spoke, now standing within four feet of where Claire sat. Leaning forward, his elbows on the table. He watched her inch away in her chair and felt a pang of guilt at how scared she looked.

"Claire, we're only talking right now," he interjected. When her shoulders relaxed a tiny bit he continued with what he planned to say to her.

"When we sent you to live with Jody… Do you remember that day?"

His question taking her by surprise, Claire gaped at him.

"You're seriously asking me that right now? What do you think, Dean? Do you remember the day your mother died?" was her harsh answer at this painful memory.

Stunned at her response, but understanding the parallel, he summoned his strength and continued.

"Fair enough. So, you do remember that was your first hunt?"

Claire looked at him dumbfounded now. "What?"

"I said, that day you had your first hunt. No, don't look at me like that. Think! You tracked down your mother and her last contact. We joined you. You filled us in on your dealings with that Ronnie douche. We figured out your mom had probably been taken and hadn't disappeared on you. After our mini-golf match, we figured out that he had some sort of angel weapon. You helped me research what it was. It was you who figured out we were dealing with a grigori. You remember what I did next?"

Claire pushed through the painful memories of that night trying to retrieve the details Dean was asking for. She remembered them crouched over the old volumes reading and searching like crazy. She remembered how she spotted the sword and the angel it belonged to. She remembered showing it to Dean. She remembered them researching some more and then Dean declaring he was heading to find Sam and Cas… There she paused. She turned to look up at the forlorn man who was waiting for her answer.

"You… You gave me that revolver," she trailed. After a short pause she added, "and you took me with you to kill that thing."

Dean stared back at her, his eyes darkened. "You had just turned fifteen. One year younger than what Amber is now. And I handed you a gun and took you with me to kill a fucking grigori."

Claire looked up at him upset and confused. "Why are we talking about this?"

"Because that's on me, Claire. Two years ago I took a fifteen-year-old out to hunt a grigori. Every single time I came to bust you out of a hunt that went south, that's what I remembered. I remember me ready to send you off to Jody's, knowing you had taken that angel sword with you, finding it in your duffel… And simply throwing a book for enochian lore in there with it, telling you to do your homework before you go hunt."

Claire kept gaping at him, still not getting where this was going.

"I took you to that first hunt. I handed you your first weapon. I was cursed, I'll concede that. My head wasn't in the right place with the Mark of Cain, but I know two things. First, that I took you with me, 'cause I knew you had what it takes. I knew you could be a good hunter. I knew you had the balls and the brains. I also know I went about it in the worst possible way."

There, Dean paused. He watched Claire's face tensing up with emotion at his words.

"You know… Before any of this went down I remember talking to Cas. Telling him how I thought you might be stronger on your own…" He shook his head. "I can't tell you how happy I am he didn't buy my shit. 'Cause I've never been more wrong in my life. When all that was finished, when we reached out to Jody and sent you to her... We didn't do it lightly. We didn't send you to some random hunter we barely knew. We sent you to someone we consider family. To someone we trust. You weren't 'shipped off'. You were sent somewhere where we thought you'd have some sort of normal, happy life for a change," he paused to peer at her. Her eyes were glued to her fidgeting hands, but he knew he had her attention.

"Every time something came up with you, every time you risked your life… We intervened not just for Jody. We did it for you, kid. Cause we want you safe and alive. And yeah, you're right, I'm not big with words and I don't always make things clear… But this was never a chore, you hear me? You are not a chore to us."

Scoffing, Claire snuck a glance up at Dean's face.

"You don't think so? Then why did we keep going after you every time you went off on a hunt by yourself, huh? Why would we do this if you didn't matter?"

Not wishing to acknowledge his point, and still desperately wanting to be convinced he was telling the truth, Claire snorted, "Cause Jody kept calling you and sending you to get me. You did this for Jody."

Rolling his eyes, Dean felt his patience wearing thin. God, how much reassurance did this kid need?

"If we just wanted to please Jody we could just send someone else, Claire. If this was just about Jody why would I bother trying to drill into your head not to do stupid things and not to go headfirst into trouble, huh? Why? I did this each and every time. Why would I bother doing anything other than dropping you off? Why would I offer to bring you back with me and train you all those times? All those times which, by the way, you pitched a fit not to be sent off with me?"

Not having any rebuttal, Claire obtusely countered this with, "I don't know. 'Cause you're dense?"

Looking her square in the eye, Dean felt he needed to bring this to a close. He kept his face on her, not uttering a word and letting her words die in the air….falling back to earth along with her failing defense.

"You don't know everything that's been going on with us these past couple of months. Let me assure you, it's been a shitstorm. A major shitstorm. And despite this, you're here. Cause you matter and we care. And because it's high time you got your act together," Dean said in a serious tone after a long, silent pause.

"You mean like the act you and Amber are keeping up?" Snark was her cloudcover and she was cornered...really cornered. Dean's words felt reassuring. Truthful. Almost comforting. And yet she wasn't ready to show just how they made her feel. This confrontation between them had been one of the hardest she'd ever had to endure. And yet this bottom-line, 'it-stops-here' containment, was exactly what she'd been seeking. Still, she wasn't about to let Dean know that. She simply couldn't.

Dean's eyes remained steady on Claire's, a warning look emblazoned over his face as he remained silent, his attempt at reaching her deepening into feelings of exasperation at her dismissal and disrespect. She was seriously pissing him off and his face was hardening in anger. Claire's stare wavered and Dean spoke again, his voice now stern.

"The only words you are to focus on are that you matter, that we care, and that you're to get your act together. Is that clear?"

Claire looked stubbornly to the side, not answering his question. Despite her refusal to acknowledge anything Dean was saying, she felt her stomach drop to her feet at the unnerving tone he was now using. Dean was scary and, truth be told, he scared her often and she usually dealt with this by her refusal to respond to her fear. Her mind traveled to the memories of that day, the day he'd just reopened for her. She recalled herself in that cab, driving off towards Sioux Falls for the first time. She also remembered the lingering feelings of connection to them, from her encounter with them, and even a little bit towards Castiel, that she'd been left with. She also remembered how they slowly morphed into pent-up anger and frustration at their constant absence.

"Hey!" Dean barked, bringing her back to the present eyes snapping up to him. "When I ask you a question, I expect an answer! Is that clear?"

Claire's jaw clenched at his bossiness, but she couldn't bring herself to ignore his question a second time. "Yes," she ground out.

Claire's begrudging acknowledgement was enough for now. He could work with this. Using this as his pass to get to the next order of business he asked in the same demanding tone, "So, if it's clear, tell me… why are you about to get your ass handed to you?"

Claire felt her face heat up at the question and she remained gaping at Dean's expectant face. Did he really expect an answer to that?

"Claire…" was his warning.

" Cause you're an overbearing dickwad?" Claire offered sarcastically, frustration with what she perceived as an effort to embarrass her.

"Wrong answer! I'm a concerned overbearing dickwad. Now get up."

Walking up to her, Dean wrapped his hand around her upper arm and firmly indicated she should stand. Trying to wrench her arm out of his hold, Claire was pulling back against his grip as Dean was attempting to bring her to her feet.

"No!" Claire felt her heart racing in her chest as she realized where this was headed.

"Claire, you keep this up and I swear, you'll get your ass tanned right here and I don't care who might be around. Don't push me any farther. Now stand." Dean's staunch tone was persuasive.

Cornered by his promise, and having no doubt that he'd do it, Claire stood up. Dean led her down the hallway, almost dragging her. This was her first encounter with anything even remotely related to physical chastisement. Beatings, she'd taken and given these, but this was different and she wasn't sure how. She was scared and that's all she knew.

Coming to her room, Dean merely pushed her door open and led her in by the arm, closing the door behind them. He was starting to sweat. This was new all over again. This was always horrible, and now it was a brand new kind of horrible. He really wished Claire hadn't gone here. Not wishing to drag this out for either of them, he glanced around the room and considered his next moves. Claire was a fighter, he knew this and anticipated a struggle. And he was sure that despite their coming to some sort of understanding up in the War Room, she wouldn't just submit to this.

Standing off from him, for the first time Claire realized Dean looked white. The red, angry face she was so accustomed to, his yelling, his bellowing, it wasn't there. Only this pale face of trepidation, mouth compressed into a tight line, brows lowered. Dean was nervous and she could see this. She wondered if this could play in her favour. And more importantly HOW she could make it play in her favour.

Claire kept watching him, as he scanned the room, she frantically tried to think of a way out of this. When Dean appeared to have decided something and headed to the desk at the corner of the room, Claire felt a lump forming in her throat. She watched him grabbing the desk chair and pulling it out, her heart jumping to her throat. Shit, this was happening. She expected Dean to sit in the chair, so she was thrown off when he tugged her with him to the desk, leading her to stand in front of it, right where the chair had been. When he tugged her forearm with the clear intention to bend her over the desk's clear surface, she couldn't help but dig her heels in, desperately trying to get out of his hold.

"Claire, I recommend you start cooperating. You're not in a position to test me any further. You knew this was gonna happen the minute you decided to sneak out of here, so suck it up!"

Frightened and trapped, Claire was caught between a sense of desperation to escape and the overriding feeling that Dean actually doing this proved he wasn't full of crap after all. She hated that this was the kind of attention she was getting, completely ignoring the fact that this was the kind of attention she'd deliberately sought out. Confused by her erratic, contradicting feelings and thoughts, she reacted the only way she knew how.

"Fuck you, Dean!"

His fear replaced by frustration, Dean was feeling his determination to get this over with rising to meet her obstinate fight. Anger pushing him, Dean used his left hand to push her down over the desk with little difficulty. The old fashioned piece of furniture was tall and, in her bent-over position, only her tiptoes were touching the floor. Dean hoped this would help him. Claire was a good fighter, but she was also tiny and no match for his own strength.

Claire could feel her face burning. She started sweating in her effort to get out of this humiliating position. Using her hands, she pressed on the desk's surface trying to get herself upright again. Dean's hand on her back was too strong though. It had her pinned down. This feeling of helplessness, this vulnerability was ramping up her fruitless resistance. Dammit, she was on the verge of tears all over again.

Nowhere to go but forward, Dean raised his hand and brought it down sharply on Claire's jean-clad ass for the first time. The sound echoed loudly in the room and shocked Claire enough to still her jerking movements for a couple of seconds. The stinging sensation it brought died down quickly, but the shock of it left her breathless, eyes enlarged and mouth gaping open. The spell broke all too soon, when the second and third swats slammed down on her ass. The stinging now lingering. Feeling Dean's palm raising again, her efforts to get out of this position revived.

"Stop! Stop it, Dean!".

Despite her struggling making things harder for him, Dean focused his attention on the task at hand. He wasn't happy with Claire's attitude, but he knew her jolting and jerking would exhaust her a lot quicker than it would him. Still, he made sure his next swats came harder and faster.

"Claire, the more you fight this the harder it will be for you," he warned her, his voice loud enough to be heard over his slaps.

"No! Stop! Stop this, you fucking asshole," Claire yelled. The burning sting had now built up to a very uncomfortable level and it never faded away like in the beginning. It kept intensifying with every swat he landed. Desperate for it to stop Claire used her hands to cover herself.

His hand pausing mid air, Dean closed his eyes for all of a second in an attempt to get a grip on himself.

"Bad idea, Claire," he informed her in a stern tone.

Instantly grabbing both her hands, he repositioned his grip over the small of her back, both her wrists in his left hand. Letting his right hand descend a bit lower, he focused all of the next smacks on her upper thighs. Her toes barely touching, and not having the force that a solid push against the floor would provide, Claire tried to kick out, only managing to curl her legs up a bit. Remembering this maneuver with Amber, and improvising for this situation, Dean stepped one foot closer to her, placing his left leg solidly across her flailing legs effectively holding them down, his right leg stepping back. Holding her in place, he continued.

Claire's eyes bulged at how much worse this all hurt down there. She was pinned down, her arms immobile in his grip. She was utterly helpless to fight her way out of this. Letting out loud hisses she tried hard to keep herself strong and not let out anymore yelps. Dean's swats on her thighs didn't relent and she was losing it. This assult on her thighs kept on and a desperate, "Fuck!" involuntarily escaped from her. Then the first tears filled her eyes, leaking out and trailing down her cheeks. Not able to prevent this, Claire was entering the stage of full-on sobbing.

Dean's hand refocusing his swats on her ass, he snapped at her sternly in that tone of voice that held nothing but determination and promise, "Watch your mouth!"

Everybody knew half of his own vocabulary consisted of a wide lexicon of swear-words and that he didn't really mind when others cussed around him, but even he had his limits. And Claire was certainly testing them. He had a heart for her situation. After their discussion he could tell just how worked up and angry she had been. And with this being her first ever ass-beating he was letting more sass slide than he would with Amber, or he ever had with Sam. Still, he wouldn't have her think these were things he'd tolerate when he was dishing out discipline.

After a minute of hard swats he was now feeling her shoulders hitching under his palm. Dean had felt it when she'd started crying. More than ready to bring this to an end, he paused long enough to reach with his right hand and remove his belt.

Sensing his stop, Claire craned her head to see what he was doing, tears streaming down her face. Not seeing what he was doing at first, she attempted to push herself up, thinking that the pause meant this was over. Dean, keeping her pressed down, Claire craned her neck to look at him, only to find him removing his belt from his jeans loops. Her eyes enlarged and she felt fresh tears starting flowing.

"No! Dean, no! Stop!" She said in her trembling voice, trying hard not to sound desperate, even as she was. She had no desire to learn how that thing would feel on her already burning ass.

Dean simply doubled the belt, securing the buckle in his grasp. "Not just yet."

"Nooo, Deeean!" Claire desperately begged, sobbing distorting her words.

"Claire, when it gets to this point, you have no say in how it plays out. You break the rules, you face the music," Dean said sternly before swinging the belt down for the first time.

Unable to keep in her gasp of pain, Claire started sobbing loudly as the belt kept coming down covering her whole behind and upper thighs.

Dean, having not lowered her pants for this punishment, had no clue as to what effect his work had other than Claire's reactions and his experience with the spankings he had doled out to Amber and Sam. He wasn't laying into Claire the way he had into Amber when she'd snuck out to Denver. But then again, Claire hadn't risked her life today. Not the way Amber had. This needed to be a sobering lesson, but not an overly harsh one.

"You don't take things that don't belong to you," was Dean's statement, accompanied by three hard swats from his belt.

"You don't leave the bunker without permission," he added in a stern tone, landing three more whacks. Claire's crying, increasing in volume and her body not jolting or pushing against his hand anymore, this was his cue to stop. The hand that was holding her down flush to the desk, released her wrists and travelled up to her back, now rubbing her soothingly. Dean squeezed her right shoulder reassuringly.

"It's over, Claire. We're done here," he told her, his tone somber, deep.

Whipping her arms forward, Claire pushed herself up from the desk, standing up and standing in place. Dean's left leg was still pinning her legs straight. Realizing the situation, Dean stepped back, releasing his restraint on her flailing legs.

Hands up to cover her crying, Claire was hiding her face, sobbing in pain and humiliation. She had felt Dean stopping and rubbing her back and shoulder comfortingly. She wanted nothing more than to be able to jerk his hand away, and kick him in the balls. Yet, at the same time she found herself craving this gentle touch of reassurance. She was lost in a bawling sea of sadness, anger, embarrassment, and pain, torn between wanting to get up and play tough, and not having the strength or bravado to do so. This whole day, this past few minutes, had left her simply exhausted, emotionally overwhelmed.

Dean watched her for a minute, unsure of what he was supposed to do. Should he give her space? Should he try to comfort her some more? Should they talk? Should he leave her to get some rest and calm down? Taking the time to put his belt back on, in order to mull this over, he watched the girl cry and felt his stomach tightening. He didn't feel guilty for doling out this well-deserved punishment. Claire had this coming for a long while. But he did feel guilty for the part he had played, in how worked up she'd become over time with his absence. This unintended chain of events leading up to her poor decision to sneak out with the Impala. Her desperate attempt to take for herself what he was not freely giving her.

Not wanting to just leave her there, he swallowed down his awkwardness and clasped her shoulder a second time. "Claire, come on. Let's get you to your bed

Claire jerked Dean's hand off her shoulder, before frantically wiping more at her face with her palms and focusing on getting her hitching breath under control. Crying like this, in front of Dean after he had beat her ass, was so fucking embarrassing.

Dean leaned against the desk, his right hand retreating from her shoulder to clutch at his left forearm. He was unsure of his next duty in this situation. He watched her, his face concerned, but refrained from physically reaching out to her again, after she'd jerked away from his touch.

Claire, unable to face the man, did the only thing she could and headed straight for her bed. She laid down on her left side, her back turned to Dean, and let her sobs out. She could feel his eyes glued on her, but she simply couldn't stand to face him. She didn't think she'd ever could again. When she had agreed to come here, thus accepting that Dean beating her ass was likely to happen, she hadn't really given much of a thought to what would come after. Her ears caught the sound of his steps as he walked up to the bed. She felt the mattress squeaking under his weight as he sat down on its edge near the foot of the mattress.

"Claire, I'm sorry it came to this. I really hope we won't find ourselves in this position again, you and I."

Claire could hear the awkwardness in his tone. She could also tell he really meant his words. Well, she sure as hell hoped she never found herself in that position again. Not acknowledging his words she kept staring silently at the wall across from her, sobs continuing. She couldn't help it. She needed to finish crying and start mending and she needed to do this alone. She hated him still being here, yet ironically, felt comforted by his presence. He hadn't just walked out after he was done. He'd stayed there with her even as she remained crying.

Dean sighed at her silence. He hadn't expected her to be chatty, but he had hoped they would be able to exchange at least a few words when all this was over, especially after the emotional discussion they'd had in the War Room. He wished Claire was more like Amber right now. Quick to bounce back to her smart-ass attitude. That always helped in setting things straight and bringing their communication channels back to pre-smacking dynamics. Of course that wasn't the case after Amber's first punishment. Not even after the second. Remembering how long she had held a grudge after the Denver fiasco, Dean closed his eyes, hoping he wouldn't have to go through something similar with Claire.

At the continued silence, Dean's eyes shifted to the ceiling. "Fine, I get it, you're not in a mood to talk right now," he said, his voice sounded resigned and tired even to his own ears. Leaning forward, hands on his knees, Dean was figuring out what to do next. Claire clearly wanted to be left alone. Wrapping this up, reaching out and squeezing her shoulder one last time, he got to his feet and headed to her door.

"Get some rest. I'll wake you up for dinner," he said quietly as he exited her room, closing the door softly behind him.

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Sam was waiting in the library, having already poured a bourbon for himself and one for Dean. Seeing his brother stepping into the library, tired to the bone and his face lined with the weight of yet more responsibility, Sam grimaced and offered him the already filled glass.

Barely acknowledging his brother's extended offer, Dean took the drink and quaffed that first shot. Extending his hand, he seemed to indicate a refill. Eyeing this suspiciously, Sam decided now was the time to indulge his brother. Refilling his glass he let Dean down it and allowed a few silent minutes to pass. Sam watched his brother and his thoughts tried to process all that had happened in the last couple of hours. Realizing they could use a bit of perspective, he cleared his throat.

"I'm thinking we should call Jody to let her know what's happened."

Dean, not having the energy or interest to oppose this, simply grunted his affirmation. Sam dialed Jody's number, and as soon as he heard her pick up, he put her on speakerphone.

"Hey Jody. This is Sam. Did I catch you at a good time?"

Having already talked with the Winchesters earlier today, Jody knew the moment her phone rang that something must have happened. She was bracing herself for something big, she just didn't know the nature of what this big thing would be.

"That sounds promising," was her resigned sarcasm. "Hey, again, Sam. What's up? Is everything alright?"

"It's Claire," Sam offered. "Now, we've handled everything on our end, and we wanted to keep you in the loop. Ah...well, Dean had to lay down the hammer on Claire today."

"What did she do?" Jody asked, her voice strained. She didn't like what she was hearing.

"Claire stole the Impala and left the bunker. We got her back safely, but things disintegrated after that."

Involuntarily, Jody inhaled sharply, imagining the severity of this whole fiasco. That was definitely an ill-advised move on Claire's part.

"Where did she go? She didn't go hunting, did she?" She asked, her mind immediately jumping to the worst case scenario she could think of. Her own greatest fear regarding Claire.

"No. No, it doesn't seem that's what she was doing. She didn't even take a coat or gas money. She didn't appear to have given it much thought. It wasn't a running away attempt," Sam explained.

"That's something, I guess. So this wasn't an escape act or an attempt to hunt… Which leaves us with what? Trying to piss you off? Or did anything else happen? Something that might've worked her up?"

Dean's expression darkened a bit at these words. Glaring into the phone, he asked in an annoyed tone, "So you're saying we caused this?"

Jody remained silent for a couple of seconds, surprised to hear Dean's voice for the first time. She hadn't realized he was there and they were having a three-way conversation.

"God, Dean, of course not." Jody was feeling Dean's defensiveness and she needed to smash this right now.

"Dean, whatever Claire did, this is what 'She did'. It isn't' about you or something you did or didn't do. Come on, you have had Amber for a while now. From what you've told me, she does things that she doesn't think out and has nothing to do with you, right?"

Jody was waiting for Dean's brain to get up to speed. "Do you think Amber does everything she does to spite you, in response to you, huh? Do you?"

Jody waited in silence for a few seconds to see if Dean's perspective would kick in. She knew he had done none of this. She trusted this in the man, and she also knew that it was impossible to be unbiased when things happened on 'your watch'.

Seeing Dean mulling Jody's words over, Sam interjected, "Well… not really. Amber definitely does things she shouldn't, and she thinks them through. There's usually some impressive planning involved. At least whenever she does something serious, like running off."

"How do you mean? Has she ever tried to run off?" Jody asked, sounding surprised by Sam's words.

Sam glanced at Dean and noticed he was sitting up straighter in his chair, looking more alert. He was definitely starting to pay attention to this conversation.

"Twice, actually. But I'm not gonna go into the first time she did it. She barely knew us when this first happened. But a couple weeks into her stay with us…. She did something similar to what Claire did. Stole a car and drove to Denver, while we were away on a hunt and she had stayed behind with Cas. And she orchestrated this in great detail," Sam explained.

"Wow! That's impressive… Just sneaking away from an angel, that alone is...well, pretty good," Jody trailed. Her mind refocusing to Claire, and the incident they were currently faced with, she asked, "So, you believe Claire didn't plan this, but just impulsively did it?"

"Yeah. One minute she was shooting rounds in the gun-range with me and Amber and then she just left. Next thing I know Cas tells me she's gone," Dean grumbled.

"She left before your session was over?" Jody asked, trying to figure this out. Her detective skills, on autopilot, searching for every available detail to suss this out.

Dean's brow furrowed as he recalled the details. He was getting impatient, but he humored the woman anyway.

"Yes. She wouldn't concentrate, fucked up her shooting… She and Amber were snarking at each other until she got too pissed off and just left the room."

"So she was worked up," Jody commented to herself. "And then, a few minutes later Cas informed you she was gone?"

"Yes, Jody, we've been over that already."

"Where did she get the keys?" Jody asked next.

"Stole them from my room," Dean answered, displeasure clear in his tone.

"Huh! So this was quite targeted… So she got angry, left Dean's training session, snuck into Dean's room, stole Dean's car keys, got into Dean's car and just drove away..." Jody trailed and remained silent for a while, thinking things over and waiting to see if Sam and Dean had anything to add.

At Jody's pointed answer, Sam's 'I-told-you-so'look, and his recalling of the incident details reigniting his temper, Dean asked annoyedly, "Yeah, Jody. We get it. Her beef was with me! Now, what's with teen girls' and stealing cars? Can't they slam doors and scream like normal drama-queens? I remember Sam doing that a million times. Did he steal the Impala? No, he goddamn didn't!"

Sam, glaring at his brother, tried to bring the discussion back into focus after Dean's rant.

"We came to the conclusion she was testing Dean. Not like Amber… In Amber's case it was not just testing for the sake of it. She had an agenda. A friend to see, a rock concert to watch, getting out of the bunker for a few hours… Testing was an added bonus, so to speak. So, we were quite surprised that Claire would just risk getting in so much trouble over nothing."

"Nothing? Don't you see it? This was everything to her," came Jody's pragmatic answer. "Sure… There was no planning involved, but she saw an opportunity to get what she wanted and she jumped at it. That's Claire. I warned you before you guys left Sioux Falls, Claire's not Amber. No matter how prepared you think you are, she's nothing like what you'd expect. Or what meets the eye."

Listening, the brothers were mulling over Jody's words.

"I'm wondering… Did you talk with her, Dean? Before or after 'handling' this?"

"Yeah. I did," Dean admitted not liking where this was going. The last thing he wanted was going over everything again with Jody, in front of Sam, too. For some reason he couldn't quite place, he felt exposed at the mere idea of sharing the details of that discussion.

Jody, reading his discomfort even over the phone, prompted him to share the details that really mattered to her. The details that she'd need when she'd speak with Claire.

"Did you confirm any of this? Her testing you in particular? This being her goal?"

"Yes," Dean confirmed.

Sam watched Dean's face as he spoke, noticing how defensive he was.

"She admitted this?" Jody asked, surprised. She could see Dean interrogating Claire, but she couldn't see her girl admitting anything like this without fighting tooth and nail.

"Eventually," Dean answered, curtly.

Now, this was sounding more like what she'd expect from Claire.

"Eventually? What preceded this...this revelation?" Jody asked, curious how this conversation had gone down.

"She was scared. And embarrassed, Jody. It wasn't that hard to get her talking. She… Damn, I don't see what good this conversation's doing… She told me she thought we… That I didn't give a rat's ass about her. And that I'm doing this as a favor to you. I made it clear that wasn't the case."

"Oh. Well, I could've told you that."

Taking a deep breath to steady her thoughts, and get ready to elucidate her point, Jody paused and both brothers knew they were going to get an earful.

"Dean, I know you left Claire here and left her alone so she could acclimate to living with us, but prior to landing with us, you're the only man in her life who gave her any positive attention. Hell, I had to practically fight her to get that angel sword. She fought me tooth and nail. She was adamant that you gave this to her for a reason and I had no right to take it away. It took me days to convince her I was only gonna keep it safe for her and not take it away. I'm telling you, she clung to that thing as if it was an extension of you..."

Jody had so much more to add, so many instances and occasions Claire had shown how much she needed and wanted Dean in her life. But she felt anything more she told them would in a way betray Claire's trust….and hinder her and Dean's connection. She and Dean needed to figure things out on their own. Till then, the boys knew what they had to. This would have to suffice.

"And look at your reaction. Those times I asked the two of you for help, you were a one-man army extracting her and bringing her home. I mean, you acted like her father, short of stepping in. And this is where she kept pushing you 'to step in'. Don't you get it?"

Dean huffed at that. This was the second time - third if he counted his conversation with Sam - that he heard these words. Resigned and exhausted, but ultimately accepting of this, Dean got to his feet.

"I get it. That's why we're here talking about this. And I'm done talking. We wanted to let you know what happened. I dealt with Claire and it's all over. Can this endless soap opera end already?"

Her smirk evident in her tone, Jody quipped, "It's like I'm hearing Claire."

"Jody.." here Sam was stepping in to wrap this up. "Ah, we just wanted to let you know what was happening and get some insight from your perspective. And, frankly, we think Claire needs to be here longer than we had originally planned. A month isn't going to cut it."

"How much longer?" Jody asked, sounding reluctant.

"As long as it takes," Dean answered and his mind was made up.

"Guys… I don't know. We told her she had to stay with you for a month. That was the deal between us and her."

"Yeah, well, Claire behaving herself and obeying the rules were part of the deal, too. She doesn't seem to give a crap," Dean replied curtly.

"What Dean means is that we can present this as a consequence of her actions. This way we don't look inconsistent and we hit two birds with one stone. She gets the message loud and clear that we're not playing around and she stays here longer. That way she and Dean will have more time together to figure things out and she gets to train longer, too."

Jody clearly heard Sam's insightful reasoning. And she couldn't agree more.

"Alright. Agreed. But you're the ones telling her," Jody finally answered.

"Fair enough," Sam smiled.

"Can you get the phone to her? I really wanna talk to her," Jody asked next.

"I don't think she's in a talking mood right now, Jody," Dean answered. "How about tomorrow?"

Jody thought this over. Dean wasn't wrong. Claire was never chatty or in any way open to communication after a punishment, she knew that from personal experience. Whenever she had to ground her, Claire would brood for a full day, sometimes even longer, before she'd even glance at Jody's direction, let alone speak to her. Jody could only imagine how much more intense her reaction to a punishment of this type would be.

"Yeah, I guess tomorrow would be better," the woman sighed. "Well, alright guys. Thanks for letting me know and for everything you're doing. It really means the world."

Dean, head shaking in frustration and awkwardness left the room with a "Bye, Jody." Another second of these chick-flick moments and he'd bang his head against a wall. Repeatedly.

"Dean just ran off," Sam spoke into the phone, taking it out of speaker mode, letting some amusement slip into his tone. "You're welcome, Jody. I just hope we'll be able to make this count."

"You already are. Bye, Sam."

"Talk to you tomorrow, Jody."

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"Yeah, we thought so, too. I'll hand you to Claire now."

Claire was in the library with Sam and Dean, reaching out to take Dean's phone.

"I want some privacy," Claire glared at the brothers as she took the phone. Not having an objection, the two men left her alone for her conversation with Jody.

The whole day of Claire's wild ride, after her and Dean's "talk", she'd stayed in her room, reluctant to come out. It had only been Dean's insistence that she open the door and come out for dinner that she'd eaten, not wishing to risk getting into any more trouble by flatly refusing. Amber had also been subdued at dinner, not making eye contact with Claire. The two adults, watching the interactions of the girls, were worried, desperately wanting things to get back to some kind of normal. Things didn't. As soon as she'd finished eating the bare minimum, Claire was gone, back to her room. Amber hadn't been very talkative, either. Soon after clearing the dishes, she too, was back in her room. It was like both girls had gotten into trouble.

Leaning against the wall of the library, Claire was now watching the two men leaving her alone. She gripped the phone and waited till she couldn't see them anymore, before bringing it to her ear. She wasn't sure what to expect from Jody. But she hadn't known how much she really needed to hear Jody's voice until she did.

"Hey, Jody."

She was trying to sound as composed and indifferent as possible. Claire was guessing that the woman had been informed of everything that had transpired the previous day and that was embarrassing enough. She didn't need to sound like a whiny little kid on top of that.

"Hey, Claire. How are you doing, honey?"

"Just peachy." Despite her snarky response, the woman's concerned and sweet tone brought a small smile to Claire's face. She wished Jody had been there with her right now, invading her personal space and giving her usual annoyingly long, crushing hugs.

"Claire…" Her tone wasn't demanding or warning. It was imploring and concerned.

Sighing, Claire began to pace around the cozy room, her eyes drifting to the twinkling lights on the christmas tree.

"I'm okay, I guess. As okay as one can be…after...well, you know."

"Yeah, I heard. I'm sorry it came to that."

Jody, still rather floored that Claire would steal Dean's Impala, didn't know what else to say. This was a surefire way to get into deep shit real quick.

And Claire had been there only one week.

"That's it? That's all you've got to say? 'I'm sorry it came to that?' That… that dick used a fucking belt on me, Jody!" Claire's tone quickly turned angry. This wasn't the sympathy she was hoping for.

"Claire, you stole his car. You left the bunker without permission when they had clearly warned you not to. You knew what consequence to expect and you did what you always do….you pushed him to the edge. What did you expect? A welcome-back-party?"

Not having a good rebuttal to this, Claire was silent. Expecting it and accepting it were two entirely different things.

Neither one of them spoke for almost a minute. Then Jody ventured a question.

"Claire, you've been so hyperfocused on Dean... And you stole his car. Why are you so intent on getting his attention?"

This was not how this conversation was supposed to go. Claire didn't exactly know how she wanted this to go, but this definitely wasn't it.

"If this is gonna be another freaking discussion about Dean, I'm not interested, Jody," she snapped into the phone. She wasn't going there. Not again. The two rounds with Cas and Dean the day before were enough to last her a lifetime.

"I don't give a crap whether you're interested or not, Claire. You're clearly upset.

You did something serious, and I wanna make sure you're actually learning something and working through this instead of bottling everything up and ignoring it as usual."

Jody's dry response came out in that no-nonsense tone Claire had learned not to ignore.

"I'm not bottling everything up… Trust me, everyone here knows exactly how I feel about this crap situation," Claire answered.

"Claire… You're making this so much harder than it has to be. Do you realize that?"

Momentarily stopping her pacing, Claire glared up at the ceiling.

"And what am I supposed to do? Pretend everything is alright? Thank the dickwad for beating me up? Grovel to the almighty Dean? What's the easy way to do this, Jody?"

"You think this is about bowing down to Dean? This is about learning self-discipline, training, and figuring out how to work with fellow hunters. This is how you become better on so many different levels! This is how you stay alive and get good."

Jody was getting angry now and Claire could tell.

"How is 'going for a drive to clear my head', a situation that threatens my life, Jody?" Claire countered. She knew full well where the woman was going with this, but she sure as hell wasn't gonna make it easy for her.

"Cut the crap, Claire! You're talking to me now. Not Dean. Not Sam. Me. If this was about a car ride to clear your head you'd ask for it. You wouldn't have snuck into Dean's room, stolen his keys, and taken the Impala, of all the cars in there. We both know that. You know you chose to do something that would get you in trouble. Don't pretend you didn't. You don't need to get defensive here. This is you and me talking."

Reading Claire's refusal to admit this, Jody spelled it out herself. Her discussion with Sam and Dean had confirmed this for her. And Claire needed to admit this. At least to herself.

"I can't help but think this whole thing had to do with you seeking reassurance that Dean would come get you. And do something about what you'd done. Am I right?"

Claire, closing her eyes, huffed with annoyance. Jody could tell she'd nailed this. She decided to pace with Claire.

"So, Dean and you spent some time together before you came to live here with me. That angel sword I locked up, he gave that to you. I still think that was foolish of him, but he gave it to you. I remember you constantly asking if he had called the first couple of months. If I had any news of them. If they'd visit. And I thought it was all about not feeling at home yet with me and Alex. When you stopped asking I was relieved. I remember thinking that you had finally gotten used to being with us. That you had started liking us; liked being here. And I guess that was partly true. Then, every time he was around, and most of those times he was around for something regarding you, you made a point of pushing his buttons, or being rude in some way. And when you started going on hunts on your own, he was the only one who could bring you back. You say you can't stand to be around him, yet you used to stick around long enough to throw some insult in his face. If you simply didn't like the guy, you would've just left him alone. And frankly, I was surprised he hadn't spanked your ass before. The way you fought him, hassled him...You certainly deserved it."

Here Jody ended her observations. She let Claire think about what she'd just said. Claire was quiet in that uncomfortable, too revealed way people get when their truth has been laid bare.

"So, Claire. Tell me what this is all about. Why Dean?"

Claire considered snarking her way out of this. But she knew Jody would keep her locked on this phone for hours if need be. That woman never gave up. Swallowing with some difficulty she quietly answered Jody with a question of her own.

"Because who else was there?"

"I was there… Sam was there. From what I know, even Castiel was there, still in your father's body."

"I didn't know you all that well back then, Jody. Sam was ok, sure. But it's not like he really gave more than a second's attention to me. He gave me his "college" speech and then couldn't get away fast enough. Castiel… was in my father's body. I don't think I need to explain why this didn't work out for me, do I? Dean… The overbearing asshole that he is… god, I can't believe I'm saying this, that asshat gave a shit. He didn't see me as some annoying kid that night, you know, before they sent me to you. He listened. He saw me. He gave me a gun and told me where to shoot angels to make it count. He told me not to become a hunter 'cause I'd die young.' It's stupid, but I felt he really gave a crap, alright? And then he vanished. And I already told him all this yesterday, so I really don't see why I have to go through it, again!"

"Claire, honey, we've talked about this before… You don't need to push people away to see if they're really there for you. All you have to do is talk to them, ask and let them help you."

Scoffing at her words, Claire shook her head. "That's bull, Jody. If someone wants to be here for me, they are. They don't wait for shit to hit the fan to make their appearance."

It was so much easier to discuss this about hypothetical people.

"Maybe in normal circumstances this would be true, but with hunters, especially with Sam and Dean, this just isn't practical. But you know...you living with them, with Amber, too, this is how to get his full-on attention. I don't recommend you keep getting his negative attention. Believe me, Dean is tougher than you are. He'll outlast you no matter how this is playing out. You understand what I'm saying?"

Cringing, Claire did understand and was still rather embarrassed about what had happened between her and Dean last night.

"Funny, how you think he has anything to give other than negative attention," was Claire's snarky response. Saving face required a comeback.

"Oh, trust me, he does. And if you actually start making a little effort you'll get to see it. And something tells me you'll both find some common ground you never thought was there."

"Making an effort my ass… I have been killing myself in training. What more do they want?"

"How about you not being rude? Start with this. Actually adhering to their rules would also be nice. And you can ask him about how he learned things. He'll tell you and then you'll have trouble shutting him up."

Jody was smiling to herself on the other end of the call. She was remembering one of the occasions she'd asked Dean about his favorite diners. That had been a mistake, but she remembered how Dean's eyes had sparkled. He'd looked like a little boy and he was all smiles describing the burgers, and chicken-fried steaks, the biscuits and gravy. She still got a chuckle out of this. And from that point forward she always made a point of cooking for the boys when they were in Sioux Falls. It made her heart happy to see a happy Dean and Sam.

This memory passed through and now lay in the background of her mind, as she remained on the phone, waiting for Claire to say something.

At Claire's silence, Jody realized Claire would most likely be on complete shut-down since yesterday. No matter what she said, Jody knew how she acted when she felt embarrassed and exposed.

"Claire, have you been spending any time outside your room since last night?"

"Yes. We had training."

"And besides training?"

Silence again. Sighing, Jody thought her next words over for a few seconds.

"This is new to you. Hell, this is new to Dean, too. I can only imagine how awkward you feel right now around him. If your reaction back when I first grounded you is any indication. Honey, I'm gonna tell you now the exact same thing I had told you then. Nobody looks down on you because you screwed up. All Dean wants to see is that you're willing to try. There's no point in avoiding him. Man up, admit you screwed up, learn, and move on. This is what the adult world, that you so eagerly wanna enter, is like."

Claire felt her face flushing at the woman's words. Grateful Jody couldn't see her right now, she took the words in, but refrained from acknowledging them.

"And… I'm gonna throw this out there for you to do whatever you want with it… But an apology goes a long way. I'm not saying you haven't offered it, but I wouldn't blame you if you haven't done so yet, either. Just remember that sometimes, that's all it takes to bring things to a close. Especially when consequences have already been doled out."

Even as she listened, mouth in a tight line of concentration as Jody shared her thoughts, Claire was taking it in.

"Are you listening, Claire?"

"Yeah… Yeah, Jody, I am."

"And are you gonna be okay?"

"Of course I am. It's them you should be worried about," Claire answered, managing to master her usual smug tone.

Jody found herself smiling at Claire's confident snark. This was a good sign.

"You know I love you. And I will always love you and be concerned for you," Jody's voice softening as he was saying her goodbye.

"Yeah, yeah… same here, Jody. Say something rude to Alex for me, will you? I'll try calling her when I get my phone back."

"I'll tell her you send your love."

Claire rolled her eyes and laughed.

Loud steps were coming from down below and starting to climb the few stairs leading up to the library. Claire heard this approach as she was wrapping up her goodbye just as Dean entered the library.

"You done, kid?"

Claire peered at him for a few seconds before nodding. Walking to him she handed him the phone.

"Yeah. Thanks," was all she said.

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So, that finally happened, right? How did you guys like this chapter? We know this was an eagerly expected event that brings some first resolutions between Claire and Dean.

Did you like the way it was written? And how did you find Dean's reaction to Claire's insubordination? Too much? Too mild? Just right?

Did you go back and reread certain scenes? And if yes, which ones and while you're at it, why?

Do you feel any closer to Claire after reading this? Do you think you can kind of relate more to her and understand her a bit better? We know a lot of you couldn't make sense of her so far. Did this chapter help any?

On a completely different and selfish note, do you guys enjoy the song-inspired chapter titles? I know we do and we feel it helps with keeping true to the show's aesthetic, but we'd love to know if you like them! Do you ever look a song you don't know up and give it a listen?

WE LOVE YOUR REVIEWS. Be it long ones addressing some or all of our questions or short ones just letting us know how you're liking the story, it's your feedback that keeps us going!

We Love all y'all.

Until next chapter,

~Marion & Lau