Look Back in Anger, ch. 9
Claire turned around.
Toby Rogen stepped out of the shadows. His blue button-down shirt was splattered with blood. He held a large knife in one hand, using it to casually clean under the fingernails of the other.
"Toby?" Claire said hoarsely, unable to believe her eyes. "What have you done?"
Angel pushed herself away from Claire's arms, so she could see Claire's face.
"That isn't Toby," she said quietly.
"'Out of the mouths of babes,'" Toby said with a smirk. For the first time he let his eyes roll over into all black. Without pupil or iris they were as flat and lifeless as a shark's eyes, or…
"Doll's eyes." Claire whispered.
She shuddered violently. Angela slid to the floor, but Claire quickly put protective arms around the little girl.
The demon that was inside of Toby Rogen smiled at them. "I'm surprised you don't recognize me, Claire. After all, I was there when your mommy shot your daddy. I would have thought you'd remember everything about that day."
Claire shook her head, refusing to let those memories take hold.
"Why? Why would you do this?" She demanded. She was still trying to shield Angela, although she knew perfectly well Angela had seen Heather's body.
"What, this, in general?" The demon held out Toby's arms to encompass the room. "Or why did I slice up your roommate and cold cock her lunkhead of a boyfriend? Well, the second one is easy—I had to speed up my timeline."
"What do you mean, your 'timeline'?" Claire demanded. She frantically was trying to think of something she could do, anything. But nothing came to mind.
"Oh, Claire, poor, sad little Claire. We remember you, you know. We were supposed to retrieve the angel's empty vessel that night. You were just going to be collateral damage. Only then the angel possessed you, and we realized you've got the same freakish ability your father had. I had some time on my hands, so I thought I'd come up here, poke around, see what trouble I could make for you."
It smiled wolfishly. "You and your friends were such easy marks, too. Like Toby here. He was more than happy to listen to me. I gave him nothing but good advice, and in return all he had to do was let me borrow his body from time to time. And you, Claire. You were so busy feeling sorry for yourself that you never saw me, did you?"
Claire was silent.
"I'll take that as a 'yes.' And Heather, that stupid slut, thinking that a little black magic here and there would get her what she wants…"
"Don't you dare say Heather's name!" Claire yelled.
"Oh, she was hardly innocent in all this, you know. Every spell I had Toby give her and Chris, every Ouija board session and card game I made sure came out in their favor, just made her more convinced that she really was a witch."
The demon paused for a moment.
"In fact, do you know why Heather asked you to bring the child here? Because she was going to try a new spell, one that she thought would get her and her grease monkey enough money to buy this dump. After what you told her about angels she thought just having the kid here might grant her enough mojo to pull it off. It wouldn't have worked, or course. But that's the funny thing about black magic—you get a taste, and you just keep wanting more."
The demon eyed Claire. "I already had Heather and Chris listening to me. I figured pretty soon I'd have you, too, Claire. And then I could have snapped your mind like a twig."
"Why? Why waste all your time on me?" Claire asked.
"Because I thought it would be funny," the demon chortled. "And it has been—it's been hilarious! I've been with you for ages, and you never had a clue!"
"How long have you been in there?" Angela asked quietly, huddling close against Claire's side.
"In Toby, you mean? Oh, on and off for a year. Maybe two."
"Years? You've been possessing Toby for years?" Claire echoed in horror. "Is he still in there, too?"
"Of course. Otherwise that little brat next to you would have picked me out in a second the other day. I made sure I was nowhere near Toby then. But I'll tell you, what- let's see if your friend is with us now." The demon mockingly rolled his eyes around as if pretending to gaze inside his skull.
"Toby? Toby? Nope, he'd not answering, I'm afraid. I think he snapped when I cut Heather's throat. He was crazy about her, you know. Always waiting for the day when she'd finally look his way. I promised him that when I'd made him powerful enough he could have any girl he wanted." The demon laughed. "I mean, seriously. What a schmuck."
"Don't listen to him, Claire," Angela urged. "Demons lie."
"Yes, we do, but in this case I happen to be telling the truth." The demon pointed the dagger he held at Angela. "I had my little plan all set up and running. Then of course you had to show up, with the Winchesters and Heaven's Whore…"
Claire's mind was reeling. "Who?"
"The brat's mother. That's what we've called her since the day she was created." The demon shrugged. "How could we have known she was going to actually live up to the name and start screwing angels? Anyway, as I was saying, I had to speed things up, so here we are."
Claire could feel hot tears running down her face. "You're saying you killed Heather and destroyed Toby because you thought it would be funny?"
"Demons don't need a whole lot of motive to kill and maim," Angela observed quietly. "They're jerks."
The demon folded Toby's face into a gruesome, teeth-baring semblance of a smile. "You watch your mouth. If Crowley didn't have a thing for your mother he'd have let us kill and eat you when you were a baby."
"Crowley knows he can't lay a hand on my mother or me," Angela corrected. "You're stupid if you think you can."
"I can give it my best shot," the demon countered. "I mean, I was just going to have a little fun with Claire here and then you drop into my lap? How can I resist?"
For somewhere in the distance they could hear a crash, the sound of metal against metal.
"Oooh, the cavalry is here," the demon chucked.
Claire looked down at Angela, scarcely daring to hope.
The child nodded. "They're coming, Claire," Angela said soothingly. "Just stay calm."
"Too bad they won't get here fast enough." The demon smiled. "Even your daddy would take awhile to work through all my sigils," he told Angela.
His all-black eyes flickered back to Claire. "But then, he's your daddy too, isn't he?" He mocked. "Angela's daddy inside the body of Claire's daddy. That must be confusing. The two of you should have your own reality show.'"
"Sam and Dean won't have to call Castiel," Angela said calmly. "They'll take care of you themselves."
"Tough talk from someone so small." The demon cocked its head. "But just out of curiosity…"
"I can text," the little girl said calmly.
"You wouldn't have had time," it scoffed.
"I had time to text the word 'trouble.' That was enough. My Uncle Dean and I are bonded together. He could find me blindfolded in the middle of a snowstorm if he had to. But I wouldn't expect you to understand how that works."
"How sweet," the demon said tartly.
The sounds of crashing were drawing closer. Claire took a deep breath. She had to focus. The only thing that mattered now was making sure Angela come out of this ok. She just had to keep the demon talking for a little while longer…
"It was me you were after. Why don't you let Angela go?" Claire asked. "She's just a child…"
"Oh, please, don't try that line on me! She's much more than a child and you know it!"
They could hear boot steps now, pounding up the metal staircase.
"But, since you asked so nicely…" The demon said.
The next events happened so quickly that even years later Claire could not remember the exact order.
The demon reached for them at the same time the doors burst open. Claire shoved Angela away from her, hard enough to send the child sprawling backwards.
The next thing she knew the demon's arm was coiled around her neck, and she was staring down the barrel of two guns.
"Angela?" Dean Winchester asked. His eyes didn't move from the demon, and the gun in his hands did not waver for a moment.
"I'm right here, Dean. I'm fine." The child got to her feet, brushing herself off. As if they had rehearsed just such a scenario the child immediately went to stand behind him, placing his solid body between her own and the danger in the room.
"Hello, boys," the demon hissed. "Long time, no see."
"Let the girl go," Sam Winchester ordered.
"Ah, no, don't think I will. But thanks anyway."
"You heard the man," Dean said. "Let her go."
The demon bared its teeth. Its chokehold around Claire's neck tightened.
"You got what you came for," it said. "You've got the little abomination back. But I have to have a little fun, too. Let me snap poor Claire's neck and put her out of her misery, and we'll call it even, OK?"
"No deal. You've lost this round. Let Claire go," Sam repeated.
"No," the demon hissed.
"You're not getting another warning," Dean told it.
"Go ahead and shoot. You'll either hit her, or you'll hit me but I'll be able to break her neck anyway. It's a win-win from my standpoint."
Claire pulled frantically at the steel-like arm around her neck. Little pinpricks of light sparked across her eyes as she gasped for breath. Blood roared in her ears.
The demon laughed. "You don't actually think I'm afraid of you two, do you?"
"No," Dean told him. "But you should be afraid of her."
The demon turned around a split second too late.
Jane reached out and laid the palm of her hand on the demon's forehead.
It let out an agonized shriek, dropping Claire almost immediately.
Sam rushed to her and picked up her limp body, moving back to a safe distance. He held her as she wheezed and coughed.
From her vantage point behind Dean's legs Angela watched what happened next. Dean lowered his weapon and put a reassuring hand on her head, but he didn't force her to turn away.
Jane didn't have to exert any pressure or force to hold the demon in place. It was if it was suddenly rooted to the floor upon which it stood.
Claire was finally able to stop coughing and retching long enough to speak.
"What is she doing? It'll kill her!" Angela heard Claire gasp painfully.
"No, it won't. Jane is a Lazarus," Sam explained quietly in Claire's ear.
"Like in the Bible? That Lazarus?"
"Yes. Demons can't bear to have physical contact with her, but they can't resist it either."
Indeed, Jane's touch was holding the demon as effectively as a fly on a pin. It flailed its arms and gnashed its teeth. But it could not break free.
Angela put her hands over her ears as the demon screamed again. It seemed to be suffering terribly, but Angela could not bring herself to feel sorry for it.
Still Jane did not break contact.
A moment later black smoke erupted from Toby's mouth, billowing towards the ceiling. It writhed and twisted as if still in pain, doubling back on itself again and again as it tried, and failed, to get away from the Lazarus.
Angela's mother drew back slightly, and the smoke dropped to the floor. It burbled weakly, seeking refuge. It roiled and rolled over and over again upon itself.
Finally Jane dropped her hand. The black smoke quickly sought out a crack in the floor. It slid down into it, and a moment later was gone.
Jane brushed off her hands carefully as if they'd come into contact with something dirty. Then she held them out to her daughter.
"Mommy!" Angela rushed to her and allowed her mother to pick her up off her feet. She buried her face in the crook of her mother's shoulder, breathing in her reassuring scent. "I'm sorry, Mom," she whispered.
Jane just squeezed her daughter tighter.
"You can put me down now," Claire told Sam weakly.
"Yeah, right. Sorry." He gently set her back on her feet.
Claire took what sounded like a deep and pained breath. "You guys need to get out of here."
Dean looked from Heather's bound body, to Toby sprawled limply on the floor, to Chris, who was just beginning to stir again. "She's right."
"What are you going to tell people?" Sam asked her.
"I don't know," Claire said. Her voice was still soft but there was steely resolve behind it. "But I'll think of something. Take Angela and go."
"You don't have to tell me twice." Dean tucked his .38 back into his waistband. "Give us fifteen minutes, and then call 911."
"Got it." Claire nodded.
Sam reached out and pressed something into the palm of Claire's hand. She glanced down and saw a small silver cross on a leather strap.
"Tie it on your wrist," he told her. "The strap has been soaked in saltwater. Silver and salt burn anything that isn't human. So don't let anyone touch you without touching this first."
"I won't," she vowed.
"Can I help them, Mom?" Angela whispered to her mother. "Can you?"
"No, sweetheart," her mother told her gently. "I already checked on Heather. She has been dead for several hours. Neither you nor I can undo that. I'm so sorry."
"But I'm supposed to be able to help people, aren't I?"
Jane just pulled her daughter closer.
Angela let her mother carry her out of the room. She looked away from Heather's body and the barely-breathing human husk that had once been Toby Rogen.
The last thing she saw before the door closed behind them was Claire, standing straight and silent and alone in the middle of the room.
"Is he going to be all right?" Claire asked as the paramedics rolled Chris out of the building on a gurney. Chris was struggling to open his eyes, but he still was unable to speak.
"Looks like a compressed skull fracture. He's lucky to be alive. We'll get him to the hospital and they'll do everything they can for him," one paramedic said gently.
Claire nodded and stepped back.
The night was cold and dark but emergency services had the building lit up like it was daylight. Police were still combing through the space looking for evidence. Another officer had cordoned off the area, keeping a small cluster of curious onlookers away from where they were working.
The next gurney to be removed carried Toby, or what was left of him. He was breathing, but there was no other evidence of life now that the demon was through with him.
Claire shuddered violently. One of the detectives laid a hand on her shoulder.
"Let's sit you down before you fall down." He steered her over to the open door of an ambulance and helped her sit on the bumper.
Another paramedic handed her a blanket. Claire hugged it around her own body, her teeth chattering with delayed fear.
She had taken Sam Winchester's advice. With the leather bracelet tied around her wrist the silver cross dangled against the palm of her hand. Everyone she had come into to contact with had either shaken that hand, or she had made certain to brush it against them somehow.
"Calm down and take a breath," the detective now advised. "We've called your mother and she should be here soon. OK?"
"OK," Claire managed to say.
It seemed like days had passed since she had found Heather's body. But in reality she knew it had only been a few hours. She had answered all of the police's questions as honestly as she could, omitting only the presence of Angela and the Winchesters from her story.
"Toby kept saying that he was a demon," Claire now repeated. "It was like he was a totally different person, standing there with that knife in his hand."
"Sometimes people just snap," the detective told her.
"If I'd gotten here a little sooner…"
The detective shook his head. "If you'd gotten here sooner you'd be dead now, too."
"I know." Claire started to shiver again.
"Claire?"
She looked up at the sound of her mother's voice, but her own throat was still too sore to call back. She could see Amelia, being held back behind the police tape and now arguing with the officers.
A moment later her mother was in front of her, throwing her arms around Claire.
Claire hugged her mother tightly, letting the silver cross brush across the back of Amelia's bare neck.
Nothing happened. Claire took a deep, relieved breath.
"What happened, baby?" Her mother asked her. "Are you all right?"
Amelia took in the deep, purple bruises now ringing Claire's neck.
"No, you're not—what happened! Nobody on the phone would tell me anything." She looked from the detective to Claire and back again.
The detective gave Claire's mother a brief summary of events. Amelia put her hand over her mouth in horror as she listened.
"Oh, no, poor Heather! Are her parents…?"
"We've already send a squad car out to notify them, ma'am."
Amelia shook her head. Then she straightened her shoulders. "I want to take my daughter to the hospital myself. Can I do that?"
The closest paramedic nodded. "We've already checked her out. She's just got some scrapes, and bruised windpipe. But absolutely."
"Detective?" Amelia asked.
"Go ahead. She's answered all the questions we have for her right now." The man turned back to Claire. "We'll probably want to question you again tomorrow, though."
Amelia put an arm around her daughter's shoulders. "That'll be fine. She'll be at home with her family if you need her."
Claire almost chuckled as her mother helped her over to the family station wagon. "I can walk, Mom. My legs are fine."
"Just humor your mother, OK?"
Claire let herself be settled into the passenger seat, her mother tucking in the blanket around her like she was a toddler.
Amelia slid into the driver's seat and closed her own door firmly.
The two women sat in silence. The coroner's office was now removing the last and final gurney. Heather's body had been completely covered, but Claire could still see flashbulbs and cell phone cameras going off.
She looked away.
"Could we get out of here, please?"
"Yes." Amelia's expression was grim as she pulled away from the curb.
"Are the boys all right?" Claire asked as they drove. Evening rush hour was over. The streets downtown were nearly empty.
"Your stepfather is with them. We didn't tell them anything."
"Good. They don't need to hear about all this. It'll probably be all over the news in a few hours anyway. God, poor Mr. and Mrs. Murray. This is going to kill them."
Amelia was silent, staring straight ahead at the road. After several moments she spoke again.
"Toby didn't come up with this on his own, did he?" It was more a statement than a question.
"No, he didn't. It was a demon. It was after me. Apparently it had been for some time."
"Why?"
"Because…because I'm like Daddy, I guess. And because the demons remember what happened all those years ago, just like you and I do."
"Do you know, that's the first time in ten years I've heard you call your father 'Daddy,'" Amelia said quietly. "I don't know how to tell you how sorry I am, Claire. You know Jimmy never wanted any of this to happen to you. He loved you so much…"
"I know, Mom."
Amelia glanced over at her only daughter. "You weren't in that building alone."
"No. I had Angela with me. And if it wasn't for her, and for the Winchesters, I'd be dead now."
Amelia pulled the car over to the side of the road. She was shaking too much to drive.
"Mom, everything's OK now." Claire said gently, reaching out to put her arms around her mother. "I'm OK."
Amelia took a deep breath. "You know, the day that child showed up on our doorstep she said she'd come all this way to help you. That's what she kept saying. That she wanted to help you. I remember thinking, how is this little tiny child going to help my Claire? What can she possibly do?"
"I know, Mom. I was wrong about her, too."
"And those men…you know, this makes three times now they've saved you." Amelia pulled a tissue out of her purse and dabbed at her eyes. "Three times."
"I know that, too." Claire smiled tremulously. "Listen, let's just go to the hospital and get them to look me over. And then when we get home let's you and I sit down and have a long talk. I need you to tell me everything you remember about what happened the night Daddy left for good."
Amelia blinked at her. "You really want to hear about all that? After all these years?"
"It's way overdue, don't you think?" Claire smiled.
Angela knew she was perfectly safe.
And yet here she was, hours later, still sitting in her mother's lap. She found she wasn't ready to lose that physical contact just yet.
"Go to sleep, baby, please," her mother coaxed her again. "It's after midnight."
"I'm not tired, Mom. I want to stay up with you and Sam and Dean."
As soon as they had left the warehouse her uncles had hastily packed up the motel room and relocated them to another one on the west side of the city. In the morning they would be leaving for Montana.
That was hunter's rule number one. As soon as a job was finished get the hell out of Dodge.
Sam and Dean were hunkered down over the police scanner. They had the television on with the sound turned off and were monitoring news feeds on their cell phones.
The story was already starting to break across the city. By morning it would be in papers all over the state.
Angela was still trying to wrap her mind around everything that had happened. It had been a genuinely scary day—the first one she'd ever had.
She had known about monsters her whole life. She was being raised as a hunter's child, just as Sam and Dean had been. That meant that her family did not lie to her about the very real dangers in the world around them.
Yet seeing those monsters in action had been different than the stories. Claire's friend Heather was dead, and Toby might as well be.
Angela had looked right at Toby, and she hadn't known. Was it because Toby hadn't come close enough to her? Or was there some other reason she had been unable to see it?
Angela was still turning it over and over in her mind. She needed to talk to Cass and the other angels. They had never been human, so they tended to see things in the most dispassionate light possible. They might be better able to explain what had happened.
Sam and Dean, on the other hand, were not particularly concerned about "why" or "how." They were just relieved that Angela had gotten a warning to them in time.
"See," Dean now said, glancing away from the television screen. "This is why we have rules. This is why we always follow procedure."
"I know that, Dean," Angela said solemnly. "I had Mom's phone with me, just like you always said I should."
"I would have preferred that you hadn't gone off with Claire in the first place," Jane said quietly.
"I know that, too, Mom." The child was quiet for a moment. "But, on the other hand, if I hadn't been there that demon would have killed Claire. None of us would have been there to stop it."
"She's right, you know," Sam said.
Dean grunted. "Doesn't mean I'm happy about how things went down. I still think it was way too risky." He eyed his niece. "You're not big enough or strong enough to take on a demon. So don't try. Got that?"
"Yes, Dean."
There was a soft tap at the door.
"What now?" Dean groused, reaching for his gun.
Sam held up a hand, forestalling him. "It's Claire, Dean."
"How did she know where we are?"
"I told her when she called about an hour ago. She was worried about Angela."
"Great. Thanks for sharing that, Sam." Dean went to the door and opened it just to the limit of the security chain. Then he nodded and opened it fully.
Claire stepped inside, closing the door behind her. Her outlandish make-up had been scrubbed off her face, and the various piercings had been removed. She looked older somehow, and much more serious, in spite of the pink hair. Sam's silver cross still dangled from one wrist.
Dean reached into his jacket pocket and withdrew Bobby's battered old flask. He held it out to Claire.
"Here. Drink up."
The young woman looked at him skeptically. "What is it?"
"Holy water."
Claire's eyebrows arched in surprise. "Isn't that…sacrilegious?"
Dean shrugged. "Welcome to our world."
Claire opened it, and took a swallow. She then handed the flask back. "Happy?"
"How do you know you weren't followed?"
"Sam said to only take city streets, and to double back four times. So that's what I did."
Angela jumped down from her mother's lap and threw her arms around Claire's waist. "Are you ok, Claire?"
"I'm fine, kiddo. My mother took me to the hospital to get checked out. I'm just a little bruised, that's all." Claire cupped the child's face between her hands. "How are you?"
"I'm fine, thank you. But I'm so sorry about Heather. And Toby."
Angela could see the sheen of tears in Claire's eyes.
"I know, sweetie. I am, too," the older girl said. "You tried to warn Heather, and me. We didn't listen. There wasn't anything else you could have done."
Claire looked over at Jane who was sitting quietly on the bed. She was the only person who hadn't spoken yet.
"Jane, please believe me. If I had any idea—any at all—about that demon I would have never let Angela near it, or me. I promise you that."
Jane remained silent.
"You have every right in the world to be angry at me. But please forgive me."
Jane still didn't respond.
Sam shook his head. "Don't take it personally, Claire. When Jane is angry she stops talking to people. She once went three whole months without speaking to Castiel."
"How did he get her to change her mind?"
"He didn't. She found out she was pregnant," Dean said flatly. "Sort of had to talk to him then."
"Oh." Claire looked down at her shoes. "Well, what she was able to do, pulling the demon out of Toby like that…that was amazing. The demon had said something about Jane being 'created,' but I didn't know what it meant at the time."
"Look, I know I'm treading on thin ice as it is," she continued. "But I have to ask. Is she human?"
None of the Winchesters looked offended by the question.
"Well, yes and no," Sam ventured.
"I'm human," Jane corrected. All eyes turned in her direction.
"But something…happened to me," Jane explained.
"Like what happened to my father?" Claire asked.
"No, not exactly. I was…stabbed. In the heart. And I died."
"Oh my God. Did a demon…"
"No, no, nothing like that." Jane looked off in the far distance for a moment, remembering.
"He was just an angry kid I was trying to treat in the emergency room. He'd been arrested in a gang fight, he was injured, scared… He got one of his hands out of the cuffs and got a hold of a scalpel…It was an accident. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. That's all."
Angela's mother pulled down her collar to expose the top of the scar that began at her breastbone. It was still raised but faded now. Angela knew it ran all the way down her mother's chest to the bottom of her ribs.
"My colleagues rushed me into surgery and did the best they could to save me. They were all talented doctors. But it just wasn't in the cards."
"So you died," Claire repeated.
"Yes. And four days later I came back."
"Like Lazarus in the Bible? That's what Sam said."
"Yes, although fortunately I wasn't in a tomb. Just a drawer in the morgue."
Claire frowned. "How?"
Jane smiled. "I don't know."
"Then, why? Why were you brought back? And why you?"
"Believe me, I've asked myself that a lot over the last seven years. I still don't know for sure. But I can tell you that after I came back, I could hear the angels."
"Daddy could do that," Claire whispered. "My mother says that's how it all started."
"Some people can," Sam weighed in. "It's not as unusual as you might think. There are those who believe the ability is biological, or even genetic, a part of certain bloodlines."
"That thing inside Toby said that's why I was able to hear them, too," Claire offered.
Jane nodded. "The demon was probably correct. About that, anyway."
"But the difference with me is that I could also talk back to them," she continued. "And I could see them, with or without their vessels. And not just angels, but a whole lot of other stuff that until that moment I'd assumed didn't exist. And it was…well, terrifying would be a gross understatement. World-shattering might be more accurate."
"I know. It is." Claire was quiet for a long moment.
"And for the record," Jane said with a slight smile, "I'm not angry at you. I'm angry at myself. I've been ignoring my maternal instincts for days now. I sensed there was danger, but I kept pushing it aside. If I'd taken those feelings more seriously things might have turned out differently."
"Maybe," Dean said philosophically. "But maybe not."
"All I know is that if Angela hadn't been there I would be dead now," Claire said plainly. "And that's the other reason why I'm here."
The young woman turned back to Sam and Dean.
"I need you two to teach me."
Sam raised his eyebrows. "Teach you what?"
"All of it. That demon was close to us for months, and I never suspected a thing. If I'd been prepared, if I'd known what to do…"
"You're saying you want to be a hunter?" Dean asked skeptically.
"If that's what it's called, then, yes. I can't keep waiting around for other people to save me. I need to know how to save myself."
"It's unlikely demons or anything else will come after you again," Sam offered.
"Isn't that what my father said to you when you tried to stop him from going back to Pontiac?" Claire countered. "And he was wrong, wasn't he?"
"He was." Dean nodded.
"OK, then." Claire held her arms out to show her willingness. "Teach me."
"It's not that simple." Sam shook his head. "What you're asking…it takes years…"
"I've got years," the young woman countered.
"It's hard," Dean told her. "Really goddamn hard."
"I can deal with that."
"More likely than not you'll get yourself killed. Most new hunters do," Dean mused.
"No, she won't," Angela corrected. "You saw how quick she thought on her feet, pushing me out of the way like that. She'll be a good hunter. You'll see."
"I appreciate the vote of confidence," Claire told the child. She then turned her gaze back to the two men. "Well?"
Sam and Dean shared a long glance.
"It doesn't sound like we have much of a choice," Sam finally said.
"There're always choices," Dean countered. "It's just that most of them suck."
He shot a steely glare at the young woman. "OK, we'll try and teach you some of what we know. On two conditions."
"Name them."
"One: you come out to Montana. We need to stay close to Angela, and she needs to be at home. It'll be months before you know enough to be anything but dead weight on the road anyway."
Claire straightened her thin figure to show she wasn't offended. "I'm graduating in June. I can do that."
Dean held up his hand.
"And, two: when we talk, you listen. Whatever Sam or I tell you to do, you do. You don't argue, and you don't question. If I'm going to be stuck being Yoda you'd better make a better student than Luke Skywalker did. Got it?"
Jimmy's daughter nodded firmly. "Got it."
She glanced around the room, taking in the three adults and the child.
"You won't regret this. I promise you that," she vowed.