[fic] A Father's Love - SPN
Disclaimer: I don’t own Supernatural and I make no money from this or any other fanfic I write
Pairing or Characters Involved: Claire Novak
Category: General
Rating: PG
Warning: Violence
Title: A Father’s Love
Author: yellowhorde
Notes: This was written for the A Minor Problem challenge over at spnland_writing. I was very pleased that it took second place.
So this it was what her father had felt that night he walked away from her, his family, from life as he knew it.
It was like nothing she had ever experienced. A warm light, a… presence of some sort, had surrounded her, merged with her. Now, tucked away in some corner of her own mind, her senses were dimmed, muffled as if she were experiencing her world from underwater.
I wonder if this is what it feels like in the womb, Claire wondered.
She had been pretending to be unconscious, she remembered that. But she had cracked her eyes open when she heard her daddy’s voice. He had come for her! She knew he would - he loved her. People gathered and she recognized the two men who had helped them at the house. Words were exchanged. She heard the sounds - desperate, cajoling, sometimes waspish - but not the words themselves.
Her daddy glanced at her, saw her eyes were open and, nodding his head, gave her a strained smile that said that everything would be all right. And she believed him.
But then her mother -
No, she wanted to shout, not my mother! That thing is not my mother.
- turned the gun on her father… and fired. Shot him as easily and calmly as if she had swatted a fly. There was blood, so much blood. Then without a second glance she walked away leaving him bleeding, probably dying.
It took all her strength not to cry out. And so, bound in a chair by thick ropes, she did the only thing she could. She closed her eyes, bowed her head, and prayed with all her might.
Please save my daddy, God! Please help me save my daddy!
And then a voice filled her head and the words it spoke were soft and full of urgent concern. And she knew without even asking that this voice belonged to the angel Castiel that her father had so often spoken of back when he and her mom had been arguing before he had finally walked out of their lives.
I can help you save him, the voice whispered. Will you help me save your father?
There was only one possible answer to that question.
A sense of strength radiated through her body, though she knew it was not her strength. No mortal could do the things she had done, not without divine intervention.
She caught the lead pipe the demon brought whistling down to crush her skull. Using her free hand, the angel pressed her palm to its head and burned the evil right out of its body. The man screamed, collapsed. She almost felt sorry for him, but there was no time for pity. Time was short and her daddy needed her.
The rest was a scary blur. From inside her secret self, she turned her eyes from the violence, the carnage. This wasn’t her battle. She had played her role but that didn’t mean she’d have to witness what the angel did with her body. The sense of helplessness was too much to bear. Was this what her father had felt? Had he, too, been trapped in his own body, helpless to act or even to react?
What exactly had she gotten herself into?
When the battle was over, she found herself kneeling before her father. He lay propped against a wall, pale from loss of blood and trembling from shock and pain. He wouldn’t last much longer - you didn’t have to be a doctor to see that. She wanted to weep, but couldn’t even do that.
As if sensing her emotional turmoil, Castiel reached out, gently running her hand through her father’s thick, dark hair. He turned his face to her, but didn’t really see her. Only Castiel.
“Of course we keep our promises,” It felt strange to hear her voice speaking words that weren’t her own. “Of course you have our gratitude. You served us well. Your work is done. It’s time to go home now, your real home. You’ll rest forever in the Fields of the Lord. Rest now, Jimmy.”
“…no. Claire.”
She had never heard her father so desperate. It hurt to see him like this. But she couldn’t look away. It might be her last chance to ever see him again.
“She’s with me now. She’s chose. It’s in her blood, as it was in yours.”
“Please, Castiel, me. Just take me. Please.”
Her father pleaded for her release and all the while she screamed, torn in two by her love for him. If she stayed with the angel, her father would die. If she was freed, if he took her place, he wouldn’t die, wouldn’t age, but he would be trapped and helpless within his own body… forever.
No matter what, they would never be together again, she knew that now. And in that instance, a fierce sliver of hatred cracked the perfect shell of her faith.
She wanted to demand that Castiel go away, leave them alone, but the choice had been made. Whether because the angel had taken pity on the dying Jimmy Novak and the love he held for his child, or because it would serve his purpose better to have an adult as a vessel, she would never know.
All she did know is that her father exchanged his life and freedom for hers. And he did it for love - a father’s perfect love for his daughter. And she knew that wherever he was, for as long as his spirit lived, she would be Daddy’s little girl.
There wasn’t much comfort in the thought, but it was the best she could hope for.
THE END
Pairing or Characters Involved: Claire Novak
Category: General
Rating: PG
Warning: Violence
Title: A Father’s Love
Author: yellowhorde
Notes: This was written for the A Minor Problem challenge over at spnland_writing. I was very pleased that it took second place.
So this it was what her father had felt that night he walked away from her, his family, from life as he knew it.
It was like nothing she had ever experienced. A warm light, a… presence of some sort, had surrounded her, merged with her. Now, tucked away in some corner of her own mind, her senses were dimmed, muffled as if she were experiencing her world from underwater.
I wonder if this is what it feels like in the womb, Claire wondered.
She had been pretending to be unconscious, she remembered that. But she had cracked her eyes open when she heard her daddy’s voice. He had come for her! She knew he would - he loved her. People gathered and she recognized the two men who had helped them at the house. Words were exchanged. She heard the sounds - desperate, cajoling, sometimes waspish - but not the words themselves.
Her daddy glanced at her, saw her eyes were open and, nodding his head, gave her a strained smile that said that everything would be all right. And she believed him.
But then her mother -
No, she wanted to shout, not my mother! That thing is not my mother.
- turned the gun on her father… and fired. Shot him as easily and calmly as if she had swatted a fly. There was blood, so much blood. Then without a second glance she walked away leaving him bleeding, probably dying.
It took all her strength not to cry out. And so, bound in a chair by thick ropes, she did the only thing she could. She closed her eyes, bowed her head, and prayed with all her might.
Please save my daddy, God! Please help me save my daddy!
And then a voice filled her head and the words it spoke were soft and full of urgent concern. And she knew without even asking that this voice belonged to the angel Castiel that her father had so often spoken of back when he and her mom had been arguing before he had finally walked out of their lives.
I can help you save him, the voice whispered. Will you help me save your father?
There was only one possible answer to that question.
A sense of strength radiated through her body, though she knew it was not her strength. No mortal could do the things she had done, not without divine intervention.
She caught the lead pipe the demon brought whistling down to crush her skull. Using her free hand, the angel pressed her palm to its head and burned the evil right out of its body. The man screamed, collapsed. She almost felt sorry for him, but there was no time for pity. Time was short and her daddy needed her.
The rest was a scary blur. From inside her secret self, she turned her eyes from the violence, the carnage. This wasn’t her battle. She had played her role but that didn’t mean she’d have to witness what the angel did with her body. The sense of helplessness was too much to bear. Was this what her father had felt? Had he, too, been trapped in his own body, helpless to act or even to react?
What exactly had she gotten herself into?
When the battle was over, she found herself kneeling before her father. He lay propped against a wall, pale from loss of blood and trembling from shock and pain. He wouldn’t last much longer - you didn’t have to be a doctor to see that. She wanted to weep, but couldn’t even do that.
As if sensing her emotional turmoil, Castiel reached out, gently running her hand through her father’s thick, dark hair. He turned his face to her, but didn’t really see her. Only Castiel.
“Of course we keep our promises,” It felt strange to hear her voice speaking words that weren’t her own. “Of course you have our gratitude. You served us well. Your work is done. It’s time to go home now, your real home. You’ll rest forever in the Fields of the Lord. Rest now, Jimmy.”
“…no. Claire.”
She had never heard her father so desperate. It hurt to see him like this. But she couldn’t look away. It might be her last chance to ever see him again.
“She’s with me now. She’s chose. It’s in her blood, as it was in yours.”
“Please, Castiel, me. Just take me. Please.”
Her father pleaded for her release and all the while she screamed, torn in two by her love for him. If she stayed with the angel, her father would die. If she was freed, if he took her place, he wouldn’t die, wouldn’t age, but he would be trapped and helpless within his own body… forever.
No matter what, they would never be together again, she knew that now. And in that instance, a fierce sliver of hatred cracked the perfect shell of her faith.
She wanted to demand that Castiel go away, leave them alone, but the choice had been made. Whether because the angel had taken pity on the dying Jimmy Novak and the love he held for his child, or because it would serve his purpose better to have an adult as a vessel, she would never know.
All she did know is that her father exchanged his life and freedom for hers. And he did it for love - a father’s perfect love for his daughter. And she knew that wherever he was, for as long as his spirit lived, she would be Daddy’s little girl.
There wasn’t much comfort in the thought, but it was the best she could hope for.
THE END