[fic] A Chance Meeting (Claire + Castiel, gen, PG)
Title: A Chance Meeting
Author: invisiblelove
Characters: Claire Novak, Castiel
Rating: PG
Word Count: ~1,600
Prompt/Summary: Claire + Castiel - talking about daddy? idk. JUST THESE TWO TRYING TO COMMUNICATE.
A/N: Written for mortar at spn_jimmynovak's Novakfest! So sorry to be getting this in right under the wire. Enjoy!
Claire groaned and dropped her forehead down onto her stack of papers and books splayed out across the desk. It was midterm week at her first semester of college, and she was questioning (not for the first time) her sanity in signing up for 18 credit hours.
After her father … left (what else was there to call it, really?), Claire had needed something to refocus. She had very nearly gone the route of several of her classmates and written off school and taken up underage drinking. But beer made her gag and she knew she didn’t want to be stuck in Pontiac for the rest of her life, so she chose instead to throw herself wholeheartedly into her studies, which led her to a fairly substantial scholarship that allowed her to enroll at the University of Chicago.
Which is why she is currently holed up in an out-of-the-way corner of the stacks in an attempt to force herself to study. There wasn’t any daylight where she was sitting, but according to her watch, it was already well past dinnertime and her stomach was starting to protest.
It was then that someone else in the stacks who was most certainly not a college student caught her eye. He turned slightly and Claire could have sworn her heart just about flew right out of her chest.
What was he doing here? Was he here looking for her? Why was he staring so intently at obscure books if he had come looking for her?
“Daddy?”
The man turned at the sound of her voice, but she knew immediately that it wasn’t her father looking back at her.
“Oh. Hello, Claire.” He paused for a moment; it almost seemed as if he was uncomfortable. “I’m sorry. Your father isn’t … here. It’s Castiel.”
Knowing what she was dealing with, it took everything Claire had to muster the gumption to stare the angel head on and not shy away. “Well, if you’re not my dad, why are you here?”
Castiel turned his gaze back toward the shelf he had been examining earlier. “Your university’s library is one of the most extensive in the area, and I am currently working on a case with the Winchesters … on top of dealing with an oncoming civil war amongst the heavenly host.”
“Oh.” How were you supposed to respond to that, exactly?
A moment of awkward silence passed between them before she summoned the strength to question the angel. She had to know.
“My dad … is he still, you know, there?”
“I can usually sense the presence of your father’s soul, but I haven’t felt anything from him in quite some time.”
She bit her lip and nodded, chastising herself for the hot sting she could feel building against her eyelids. She took a breath and managed to calm herself. She didn’t look up when she asked “Does that mean he’s…?”
Claire startled when she felt a hand against her shoulder. When she looked up, she saw that Castiel was examining her with an expression that seemed to convey sympathy from someone who wasn’t quite sure how to express it.
“No. I don’t believe so. Regardless, your father is already assured a place in heaven for his sacrifice, but I believe I would feel his absence more strongly if he was no longer here. It just feels more as if he is sleeping.”
Claire gave a slow nod of her head, Castiel’s words giving her only a very small measure of comfort. She knew that her father was a devout man and had prayed to be used as a tool to enact the will of heaven, but it still didn’t help abate the deep-seated sense of loss she felt over losing her father.
The silence stretched between the two, and Claire was quickly realizing that you couldn’t rely on an angel to fill awkward gaps in conversation.
“I’m sorry I’ve kept you this long,” Claire began. “Feel free to go.” She wasn’t exactly sure of the proper etiquette in ending a conversation with an angel - she remembered only the cold distance with which Castiel had regarded her after he had retaken her father as his vessel the last time they met.
She fully expected him to just disappear in a strange flutter of air, but he instead lingered as if there was something he still wanted to stay.
“Claire…” he began, and the only way Claire could think to describe the way Castiel was holding himself was uncomfortable.
He paused a few moments, enough to make the silence awkward once more, screwing his brows together as if he was trying to string a sentiment together just right and translate it into something that she could understand. “The more I live among mankind, the more I learn of the way you love and the attachments you form. I realize that a parent’s love is important. And … I know that you may feel that your father and his love for you is gone, but I just want you to know that it isn’t the case. Your father’s love for you, perhaps even more so than his faith, was the driving force in his life. And I can still feel it fueling this vessel. It keeps his body and his heart strong. Even now, I feel his bond to you and an answering affection of my own now that I have opened myself up to him.”
Claire gaped at Castiel. This was certainly more than the angel had ever said to her in all of their other abrupt exchanges combined.
When Claire didn’t respond, Castiel looked down and chuckled sadly. “I’m sorry. I have made you uncomfortable. Dean says I don’t know what I’m doing when I try to talk to other humans.”
Claire’s head snapped up and, without thinking, she reached out and placed her hand upon his coat covered arm. “Thank you. Truly. I - well, it just means the world to me to hear that.” She could feel her eyes beginning to fill, and she tried to clear her throat, not wanting to begin crying in the middle of the library. She was already thankful enough that she always studied in this remote corner of the stacks, sure that the image of a freshman having an in-depth conversation of socially-inept man in a flasher trench coat wouldn’t be the easiest tableau to explain to onlookers.
Claire began to shuffle her papers and books together so they could be dumped into her bookbag. She really was getting hungry, and she certainly wasn’t going to be getting any more studying done anytime soon after this encounter. Once her things were packed, Castiel walked with her towards the library’s exit. They paused again once they were back outside in the cold early evening air. She was just about to attempt to say goodbye when Castiel abruptly disappeared.
Claire had the presence of mind to frantically glance around to make sure no one was around to see this unexplainable display before she felt a surge of irritation that the angel couldn’t even say goodbye to her before fluttering off. She was about to start her trek over to the dining hall when Castiel reappeared in a whoosh of air holding a white carry-out bag.
Claire’s eyes widened. “Is that - ”
“I’ve eaten at the Thai restaurant by your home several times since I’ve taken your father as a vessel because I can sense the pleasure that the food and the memories brings him. I could sense your hunger and thought that perhaps you would enjoy some of this cuisine as well.”
Claire wordlessly took the bag from Castiel and peeked inside and was immediately hit with the mouthwatering scent of flavored noodles, chicken, and vegetables. “Cas - ” she began, and Castiel smiled at the nickname that she too seemed to have adopted. “This is perfect. Thank you so much.”
There was another silent pause that stretched between them, but before it could turn awkward, Claire reached out with the takeout back clutched in one of her fists and wrapped her arms around Castiel. Castiel seemed shocked into stillness for a moment, but then he too brought his arms up and around her small frame. As they pulled apart, he even brushed his hand along her hairline the way he had seen Jimmy do before he had taken him as a vessel.
“Take care, Claire. I will continue watching over you, just as I promised your father I would. And I know that your mother wouldn’t believe it, but truly, I understand the sacrifice that you two had to make in order for this arrangement to work as well.” He gave a sort of melancholy smile before he disappeared in the same strange movement of air as before.
Claire was a still a moment, clutching her bag of food and trying to wrap her head around the exchange she had just experienced. Finally, she shook her head and let out a disbelieving chuckle at the absurdity of her life circumstances. Then, she readjusted the straps of her bookbag and made her way over to one of the tables on the patio along the outside of the library. She pulled the still piping hot cardboard container of food out of the bag and opened the flaps and found, to her delight, she and her dad’s favorite dish - number 12 - from the very Thai restaurant they used to eat at for weekend lunches at least twice a month. With school and the friction with her mother, she hadn’t had a chance to go there in probably about a year.
She grabbed the plastic silverware at the bottom of the bag and twirled the first bite of noodles around her fork and her mouth started watering before she could even bring it to her lips. She blew on the steaming food and took a big bite and let out a pleased little sound.
It was just as good as she remembered.
Author: invisiblelove
Characters: Claire Novak, Castiel
Rating: PG
Word Count: ~1,600
Prompt/Summary: Claire + Castiel - talking about daddy? idk. JUST THESE TWO TRYING TO COMMUNICATE.
A/N: Written for mortar at spn_jimmynovak's Novakfest! So sorry to be getting this in right under the wire. Enjoy!
Claire groaned and dropped her forehead down onto her stack of papers and books splayed out across the desk. It was midterm week at her first semester of college, and she was questioning (not for the first time) her sanity in signing up for 18 credit hours.
After her father … left (what else was there to call it, really?), Claire had needed something to refocus. She had very nearly gone the route of several of her classmates and written off school and taken up underage drinking. But beer made her gag and she knew she didn’t want to be stuck in Pontiac for the rest of her life, so she chose instead to throw herself wholeheartedly into her studies, which led her to a fairly substantial scholarship that allowed her to enroll at the University of Chicago.
Which is why she is currently holed up in an out-of-the-way corner of the stacks in an attempt to force herself to study. There wasn’t any daylight where she was sitting, but according to her watch, it was already well past dinnertime and her stomach was starting to protest.
It was then that someone else in the stacks who was most certainly not a college student caught her eye. He turned slightly and Claire could have sworn her heart just about flew right out of her chest.
What was he doing here? Was he here looking for her? Why was he staring so intently at obscure books if he had come looking for her?
“Daddy?”
The man turned at the sound of her voice, but she knew immediately that it wasn’t her father looking back at her.
“Oh. Hello, Claire.” He paused for a moment; it almost seemed as if he was uncomfortable. “I’m sorry. Your father isn’t … here. It’s Castiel.”
Knowing what she was dealing with, it took everything Claire had to muster the gumption to stare the angel head on and not shy away. “Well, if you’re not my dad, why are you here?”
Castiel turned his gaze back toward the shelf he had been examining earlier. “Your university’s library is one of the most extensive in the area, and I am currently working on a case with the Winchesters … on top of dealing with an oncoming civil war amongst the heavenly host.”
“Oh.” How were you supposed to respond to that, exactly?
A moment of awkward silence passed between them before she summoned the strength to question the angel. She had to know.
“My dad … is he still, you know, there?”
“I can usually sense the presence of your father’s soul, but I haven’t felt anything from him in quite some time.”
She bit her lip and nodded, chastising herself for the hot sting she could feel building against her eyelids. She took a breath and managed to calm herself. She didn’t look up when she asked “Does that mean he’s…?”
Claire startled when she felt a hand against her shoulder. When she looked up, she saw that Castiel was examining her with an expression that seemed to convey sympathy from someone who wasn’t quite sure how to express it.
“No. I don’t believe so. Regardless, your father is already assured a place in heaven for his sacrifice, but I believe I would feel his absence more strongly if he was no longer here. It just feels more as if he is sleeping.”
Claire gave a slow nod of her head, Castiel’s words giving her only a very small measure of comfort. She knew that her father was a devout man and had prayed to be used as a tool to enact the will of heaven, but it still didn’t help abate the deep-seated sense of loss she felt over losing her father.
The silence stretched between the two, and Claire was quickly realizing that you couldn’t rely on an angel to fill awkward gaps in conversation.
“I’m sorry I’ve kept you this long,” Claire began. “Feel free to go.” She wasn’t exactly sure of the proper etiquette in ending a conversation with an angel - she remembered only the cold distance with which Castiel had regarded her after he had retaken her father as his vessel the last time they met.
She fully expected him to just disappear in a strange flutter of air, but he instead lingered as if there was something he still wanted to stay.
“Claire…” he began, and the only way Claire could think to describe the way Castiel was holding himself was uncomfortable.
He paused a few moments, enough to make the silence awkward once more, screwing his brows together as if he was trying to string a sentiment together just right and translate it into something that she could understand. “The more I live among mankind, the more I learn of the way you love and the attachments you form. I realize that a parent’s love is important. And … I know that you may feel that your father and his love for you is gone, but I just want you to know that it isn’t the case. Your father’s love for you, perhaps even more so than his faith, was the driving force in his life. And I can still feel it fueling this vessel. It keeps his body and his heart strong. Even now, I feel his bond to you and an answering affection of my own now that I have opened myself up to him.”
Claire gaped at Castiel. This was certainly more than the angel had ever said to her in all of their other abrupt exchanges combined.
When Claire didn’t respond, Castiel looked down and chuckled sadly. “I’m sorry. I have made you uncomfortable. Dean says I don’t know what I’m doing when I try to talk to other humans.”
Claire’s head snapped up and, without thinking, she reached out and placed her hand upon his coat covered arm. “Thank you. Truly. I - well, it just means the world to me to hear that.” She could feel her eyes beginning to fill, and she tried to clear her throat, not wanting to begin crying in the middle of the library. She was already thankful enough that she always studied in this remote corner of the stacks, sure that the image of a freshman having an in-depth conversation of socially-inept man in a flasher trench coat wouldn’t be the easiest tableau to explain to onlookers.
Claire began to shuffle her papers and books together so they could be dumped into her bookbag. She really was getting hungry, and she certainly wasn’t going to be getting any more studying done anytime soon after this encounter. Once her things were packed, Castiel walked with her towards the library’s exit. They paused again once they were back outside in the cold early evening air. She was just about to attempt to say goodbye when Castiel abruptly disappeared.
Claire had the presence of mind to frantically glance around to make sure no one was around to see this unexplainable display before she felt a surge of irritation that the angel couldn’t even say goodbye to her before fluttering off. She was about to start her trek over to the dining hall when Castiel reappeared in a whoosh of air holding a white carry-out bag.
Claire’s eyes widened. “Is that - ”
“I’ve eaten at the Thai restaurant by your home several times since I’ve taken your father as a vessel because I can sense the pleasure that the food and the memories brings him. I could sense your hunger and thought that perhaps you would enjoy some of this cuisine as well.”
Claire wordlessly took the bag from Castiel and peeked inside and was immediately hit with the mouthwatering scent of flavored noodles, chicken, and vegetables. “Cas - ” she began, and Castiel smiled at the nickname that she too seemed to have adopted. “This is perfect. Thank you so much.”
There was another silent pause that stretched between them, but before it could turn awkward, Claire reached out with the takeout back clutched in one of her fists and wrapped her arms around Castiel. Castiel seemed shocked into stillness for a moment, but then he too brought his arms up and around her small frame. As they pulled apart, he even brushed his hand along her hairline the way he had seen Jimmy do before he had taken him as a vessel.
“Take care, Claire. I will continue watching over you, just as I promised your father I would. And I know that your mother wouldn’t believe it, but truly, I understand the sacrifice that you two had to make in order for this arrangement to work as well.” He gave a sort of melancholy smile before he disappeared in the same strange movement of air as before.
Claire was a still a moment, clutching her bag of food and trying to wrap her head around the exchange she had just experienced. Finally, she shook her head and let out a disbelieving chuckle at the absurdity of her life circumstances. Then, she readjusted the straps of her bookbag and made her way over to one of the tables on the patio along the outside of the library. She pulled the still piping hot cardboard container of food out of the bag and opened the flaps and found, to her delight, she and her dad’s favorite dish - number 12 - from the very Thai restaurant they used to eat at for weekend lunches at least twice a month. With school and the friction with her mother, she hadn’t had a chance to go there in probably about a year.
She grabbed the plastic silverware at the bottom of the bag and twirled the first bite of noodles around her fork and her mouth started watering before she could even bring it to her lips. She blew on the steaming food and took a big bite and let out a pleased little sound.
It was just as good as she remembered.