Sigils And Swords (Redemption)
Disclaimer: Sigils And Swords belongs to Anna. Supernatural and all related characters belongs to Eric Kripke
“Are you trying to kill us?” Claire yells and pushes Dean back in his seat to take control of the rogue car. “Break!” She orders sharply and it somehow goes through to Dean’s brain, because his foot hits the break, sending the Impala to a squealing halt.
Claire is panting in the seat next to Dean, eyes blue and wide with adrenalin and fear. “What the Hell, Dean?” She demands and grabs his chin with surprising strength, forcing the hunter to face her. “What is wrong with you?”
Dean is stunned for another moment, this time because of the unnatural, but very familiar eyes looking into his. Regaining control of the whirling thoughts in his head he drags his eyes away from hers and closes them all together.
“You really didn’t know?” Claire asks, voice apologetic and soothing. Dean just shakes his head.
“I’m sure he would have told you himself, if he had a chance.” She looks Dean over with concerned evaluation, before she gets out of the car, walk around the front and opens the driver’s seat door. “Scoot over.” She orders, and for no good reason Dean does as he’s told.
Claire starts the car back up and pulls back into the road. As they eat up more miles of the two lane road, Claire sometimes glances over to check on Dean, who doesn’t seem to be focusing his stare at anything, eyes empty and emotionless as Claire has never seen them before. In the end she leans over and presses two fingers to his temple and watches as he drift out of consciousness.
….
When Dean wakes up it’s dark outside and a quick scan of the poorly lit room tells him that he’s alone. He tries to recall how he got here, but there is nothing coming back to him. He lets his head drop back into the pillow and closes his eyes, suddenly remembering Claire’s sharp voice telling him that Cas was still alive.
Dean doesn’t know how to excuse his reaction. He didn’t even think he would care if Heaven brought Cas back again. He had convinced himself so thoroughly that Castiel, frigging angel of the Lord was a closed chapter, that the stupid, suicidal bastard had caused more tears already than anyone was worth.
“Cas? Castiel?” The words are nothing more than a whisper, but still it’s the first time in months that Dean says Castiel’s name out loud. “I don’t know if you can hear this, man. I don’t even know if you’re there, or maybe you just don’t give a shit. I can’t say I blame you.” Dean stops, because he really doesn’t know what he’s meant to say. Right when it happened, right when they’d lost Castiel and Dean though the Leviathan had just lied to him, Dean had prayed a lot. And even after, when months passed by and there still were no answer, he had prayed inside his head, sometimes just to tell Cas about something that had happened on a hunt, about some irrelevant issue with Sam, about what happened to Bobby… But now he had no words.
“Claire said you were alive.” he tries hesitantly. “I suppose she have a better chance of knowing that the rest of us. And I don’t know what to say here except, shit Cas, please don’t stay away this time. You promised.” Dean’s voice breaks and he wipes a hand down his face to regain control.
“He doesn’t answer me either.” Comes Claire’s soft voice from next to the door. “And I’ve yelled at that son of a bitch ‘till my throat was sore.”
Dean jerks at the sudden sound and thinks for a second that he’s gotten too old for this shit, that he’s slipping. Because the only one who were ever able to sneak up on him like that… He raises both eyebrows and stares blatantly at her. Claire seems to catch his trail of thoughts and smiles.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Dean. I used the door. Not my fault that you’re getting old.”
“How did I get here?”
“I drove us.”
“And I just passed out?”
Claire bites her lips. “I suppose you were in shock. You didn’t seem to notice anything. I even slapped you in the face, but you were so gone. When I dropped you in the bed you were out. You don’t remember?”
Dean doesn’t and shakes his head. He lets a few second of silence pass before he drags himself out of the bed and hold out his hand for his keys. Claire rolls her eyes at him, but hands over the keys without argument.
“Can’t we at least stay? There’s a job in town.”
“How would you know?” Dean pushes past her and opens the door, just to be reminded that it’s the middle of the night.
“Same way you would know.” Claire teases, sugar sweet voice back. “I did the work, I did the research. All I need is a partner.”
“What you need is to get home. I should call Amelia.” Dean steps back inside and closes the door. He supposes they might as well stay the night here. He can’t focus on driving now anyway and no way is he letting Claire back behind the wheel of his baby.
“Dean.” Claire’s hand is on his arm, and he knows he shouldn’t turn and look at her, he knows, but he does it anyway, because he just love fucking up his own life.
Claire’s eyes are huge and blue and just like her dad’s. Dean always thought that the color was wrong. Wrong the same way Castiel’s eye color was. Like there’s something else there than just pigment. And for a second he wants to ask her again, if she’s sure there’s no angel in there.
“Dean.” Claire repeats. “Just trust me okay. I need this. Ever since my dad left again I’ve known. I’m supposed to do this. I just need your help. Or your support at least.” She holds on a little tighter, her small hand digging into his arm. “Please!”
“I already got one little girl with daddy issues killed, Claire. I’m not going back down that road.” Dean says, and he thinks his tone is pretty final.
“I’ll do it with our without you, Dean. I thought you’d promised to protect me.”
“There’s a lot of broken promises going around these days.” Dean says, thinking that he finally sounds like the bitter old man that he really is.
But in the end he doesn’t say ‘no’.
Chapter Three. Master Post.
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