Fix the Sky a Little, part three

[chiiyo86]

They made a quick work of warding the house after Jody had put the kids to sleep. Both children were exhausted, and Jody was good enough at making them feel safe in spite of what had happened that it took much less time than Claire had thought for them to fall asleep. They also seemed to like Castiel, unexpectedly-or maybe it wasn’t so unexpected- and reached out for him once they were in their beds until he awkwardly kissed them on the forehead. The scene put a melancholic look on Jody’s face.

Working on something concrete made Claire feel significantly better, able to push past her own exhaustion. It also gave her time to think back to what had happened and see through her own feeling of inadequacy. Maybe there was something she could have done to prevent Millie from being taken, or maybe not, but, as she remembered the scene, she increasingly felt that the little girl had let herself be kidnapped. And there was a sound reasoning behind it: it had saved her brother and sister from the same fate, got Ramiel and the demons off her fellow fallen angels for a little while at least, and it also-

Claire was distracted from her thoughts by the sound of someone clearing their throat. She turned around: Ben and Jesse stood in the middle of the living room, holding hands, Ben looking a little green. Claire’s heart fluttered wildly at the sight of them. All other considerations fled from her mind, and, taking advantage of the fact that both Jody and Castiel were in another part of the house, she flung herself at the boys.

“Hey,” Ben said, catching her by the waist and burying his face in the crook of her shoulder. “Glad to see you too.”

The three of them remained entwined for a moment, Ben breathing wetly against her neck and Jesse with his nose in her hair, taking deep breaths like he wanted to relearn her scent. They only separated when they heard someone walking down the stairs: it was Jody, followed closely by Castiel.

“We are now safer here than in Fort Knox,” Jody said with a wan smile. “Thank you,” she said to Castiel, who nodded at her in response.

“We’d better get back home,” Jesse said, but he looked tired, and it seemed that Jody had picked up on it too because she said, “You can stay for the night. I have enough room, and-” She gave them a sly smile “-I assume you three don’t mind sharing.”

Ben flushed a bright red, but Jesse looked nonplussed by the comment. “Oh, it’s fine,” he said innocently. “I can take them back home. What’s one more trip, right?”

Claire didn’t outwardly react to the statement, because, if Jesse was too tired, he shouldn’t feel forced to transport them, but inside she felt herself go slack with relief: she really wanted to be somewhere familiar right now.

“Okay,” Jody said pleasantly, then asked Castiel, “Are you staying here?”

He was, and it gave them the last incentive to go back home without having to worry about Jody having to protect the kids on her own if the demons decided to come back and finish the job. Jesse took Ben and Claire’s hands, and, as Claire closed her eyes, she felt the dizzying weightlessness characteristic of Jesse’s teleportation. It was a little nausea-inducing, but she kind of liked the feeling-for a few seconds she felt like she could lift off the ground like a balloon.

She heard swearing and half-smiled before she opened her eyes. Not everyone liked travelling this way, and Ben was a particularly bad case.

“You’d think it would get easier,” he grumbled, face pale as a sheet. “I don’t understand how you can do it with a smile, Claire.”

“It’s fine,” she said. She wouldn’t mock him so if she didn’t know from experience he would quickly start feeling better; already, some color was coming back to his cheeks. “I even sort of enjoy it.”

“You,” he pointed a dramatic finger at her. “I renounce you.”

She reached across Jesse, who was still holding both of their hands and watching them argue with an amused look, and took Ben’s other hand to pull him to her and kiss him, squashing Jesse between them in the process.

“No, you don’t,” she said in a breath once she broke the kiss.

He smiled against her lips. “No, I don’t. The flesh is weak.”

They were still all holding hands, standing close to each other and breathing in sync, and none of them seemed inclined to move.

“Shall we go to bed?” Jesse asked.

“It’s still early,” Claire protested. Her head swam with exhaustion, but she was wound too tight to rest.

“Who’s said anything about sleep?” he said with a roguish smile of the sort she hadn’t seen on his face in a long while.

Ben looked hesitant. “Maybe Claire doesn’t-”

“Claire does,” she said firmly, giving his hand a strong squeeze.

She didn’t want to think about anything, and this needed no thoughts. Want burned in her chest and she became sharply aware of Ben’s and Jesse’s body heat, of the brush of their skins on her bare arms.

She led them both by the hand up to Ben’s room. They fell in a heap onto his bed, touching, caressing and kissing in turns, and quickly, her tiredness lifted up. They had that kind of three-way making-out down pat now, knew how not to bump into each other and how not to leave anyone out. Today it was a little different, both boys focusing on her more than on each other: Ben nipping at the skin over her collarbone; Jesse behind her, brushing her hair away to kiss the back of her neck. She knew she should just let herself enjoy it-and she did, definitely-but she felt uncomfortable with that level of focus on her and ended up pushing them both away, asking them to stop.

“I’m fine,” she said quickly, riding over whatever words of concern Ben was about to utter. “You don’t have to-Okay, if I’m reading this right, we’re doing what I want tonight, aren’t we?”

“Anything you want,” Ben said with the eagerness of a puppy.

“Right,” she said, feeling a small surge of adrenaline. “Then I want you to kiss. Each other, I mean.”

Ben and Jesse shared a look, a little puzzled on Ben’s side. Jesse shrugged and said, “Eh, well, you’re not too shabby, mate. I’m game if you are.”

Ben rolled his eyes at him, then said to Claire, “So you wanna watch, hmm?”

She smiled and nodded encouragingly. The truth was that she didn’t have the same voyeuristic streak that Ben did and didn’t like watching quite as much, but it was a reason he would buy and she didn’t know how to explain the urge to watch them kiss.

“Tick, tock,” she said, and Jesse grabbed Ben by his t-shirt and pulled him flush against him.

“You heard the lady,” he said.

He pressed their mouths together, his fist still knitted in the fabric of Ben’s shirt. Ben’s reaction was a strangled moan and one of his hands fluttered before he settled it on Jesse’s hip. Claire watched them get into it, feeling her own arousal grow steadily in waves, until she couldn’t just watch and had to interrupt them. She had them rock-paper-scissor which one of them would do her, and Ben won.

“Get me ready,” she told Ben, cupping his cheek with her hand as he looked at her-looked at her in a way that was so familiar and yet that she still couldn’t comprehend after all these years. “Get him ready,” she said to Jesse, and ignored the way her voice caught in her throat for no reason.

Experience had taught them that threesome sex was like a dance that needed a careful choreography, and after a few minutes of negotiations they made it work with Claire straddling Ben’s face and Jesse’s between Ben’s legs.

“It feels kind of unfair,” Ben said breathlessly as he took a break, hands gripping Claire’s thighs tightly. “Feels like it’s all about me right now. Should be-”

“Shut up and get to work,” she said, reaching out behind her to brush over Jesse’s hair.

Jesse sucked dick with an enthusiasm she’d never quite been able to muster herself and Ben was starting to unravel under his ministrations, having to take more and more frequent breaks from eating Claire out, muffling moans in the creak between her thigh and stomach, until he finally begged for mercy and they all fumbled to change positions.

“Doing okay?” Ben asked Claire as he propped her propped up against the headboard. He was red and sweaty, radiating heat, almost as much as Jesse on a normal day.

“Yes.” She leaned in to give him a kiss. “More than okay.”

She cradled him in her arms, wrapping her legs around his hips as he buried himself inside her. She closed her eyes, feeling his lips graze her neck, his breath warm and moist on her skin. He went slow at first, careful with her as always even though he knew she wouldn’t break, knew just how much she could take.

“Don’t hold back,” she said, cupping the back of his neck. “Please, I want to feel-”

When he started in earnest she opened her eyes to be able to see him, his wide eyes and his half-open mouth, his dark hair curling and clinging to his forehead from the sweat. He held her eyes and, for a moment, he filled her entire vision field and there was no one else in her world, but the illusion broke when his breathing hitched and his eyes shut tight suddenly. He pressed the crown of his head under her chin, his rhythm momentarily going staccato as Jesse rose from above his shoulder, replacing him as Claire’s focus.

“Hey there,” he said, his smile wide and smug.

“You look pretty happy with yourself.”

“Why shouldn’t I?”

His cheeks were flushed and his eyes sparkled; something came alive in Claire’s chest at seeing him like this.

“Why not, indeed,” she said.

It was an uneasy balance, having the three of them joined together that way, and Claire would have regretted the interruption in Ben screwing her if not for that flash of genuine pleasure on Jesse’s face and the way Ben was trying to bite back sounds, shaking a little in Claire’s arms. They had to wiggle around a bit, trying to find a comfortable position for everyone. Jesse braced himself against the headboard with an arm so his weight wouldn’t rest completely on Ben’s back. “Ready for it, mate?” he whispered to Ben’s ear, and it was the only warning either of them got before he started thrusting in earnest.

Jesse wasn’t brutal, but he wasn’t overly careful either, and it took a moment before Ben could do anything but take it, his face pressed against Claire’s as she soothingly stroke his hair and the back of his neck, feeling the repercussions of Jesse’s shoves as if he were fucking her himself. Then Ben started pushing back against Jesse then into Claire, and the three of them were like a mythological monster, a chimera with three heads and twice as many arms and legs, struggling with itself in a wild dance. Claire and Jesse met at odd moments for uncoordinated kisses that they couldn’t keep for long.

The boys came within seconds of each other, Ben muffling a curse against Claire’s shoulder, and Claire bit her lower lip through her own climax. They crumpled over each other and none of them moved for a few minutes, but, eventually, Ben and Jesse’s combined weights became too much for Claire to bear. She had to push at them before they deigned moving. She slipped out to the bathroom, both to clean up and to have a minute to herself. Sex was fantastic, making her feel alive and connected, more aware of her body than she usually was, but it also made her feel just a little too vulnerable, a bit out of control. That was more frightening that she would ever admit to anyone.

When she returned to the room, she thought she’d find Ben and Jesse snuggling, but Jesse was standing by the window wearing only a t-shirt, while Ben, still on the bed, was looking at him with undisguised worry. Claire reached for her discarded clothes, watching Jesse. He was staring fixedly outside, but the window didn’t offer much in the way of a view, only windows and balconies from the nearby building. Some windows were lit up but the balconies were empty-dusk was settling in and it wasn’t warm enough yet to keep the windows open and have people chat on the balconies. Jesse was tense, fingers running a little feverishly over the seams of his t-shirt. Walking around the room he did the same to Ben’s desk chair and a few other objects in the room, mapping it out like a blind man.

“It’s fine,” he said, not looking at them, his back too straight. “Just waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

“It won’t,” Ben said gently. “You’re not sleeping. This isn’t a nightmare that’s going to turn a nice moment into hell.”

This time Jesse half-turned, just enough that Claire could see his face, could see that he was trying for a smile. “I’m not sure that being awake guarantees that things won’t go to shit,” he said, but he seemed to be relaxing a little. “We don’t have a great track record on that.”

“Okay.” Ben unfolded and slid off the bed, obviously finding it safe to approach Jesse now. “Then find comfort in the fact that, if something bad happens now, it’ll be real.”

“You’re a shitty comforter,” Jesse mumbled, but he let Ben draw him into his arms.

“What triggered it?” Claire asked, crossing her arms over her stomach, feeling a little out of place.

“I don’t know.” Jesse shot her a wry smile over Ben’s shoulder. “Too much of a good thing at once, maybe.”

“I’d hate to have to ban sex,” Ben said.

“Well, nothing stops you and Claire from doing each other.”

Ben shoved at him. “You’re such a romantic.”

With that quip the moment was broken, and, if Ben kept shooting Jesse careful looks as if to make sure he really was fine, none of them said anything about it. This was just the way Ben was-he worried. He cared. And, as if to underscore that fact, Ben focused on Claire next, pinning her with a gentle look once they were all in bed again.

“You did what you could. Today, I mean.”

Claire stiffened. “Yes.” Had she? But wondering about it now wouldn’t do Millie any good. “I think she wanted to be taken. I think she-”

She hadn’t let herself think much about why Millie would have wanted this, beyond the immediate benefit of getting the threat away from her siblings. But-of all the fallen angels, Millie was the only one, as far as they knew, who remembered her true self. She knew who she was and she knew who Claire was. Adrian, the boy who’d died, had been lost, confused, had stumbled onto his connection with Claire without knowing what to do with it. Which meant-

Claire sat up in the bed like a shot, sending the bedcover flying.

“Claire?” Ben asked worriedly, while on the other side of him Jesse mumbled sleepily, “Wha-?”

“She’s going to try to contact me.”

“Who is?”

“Millie. She let herself be taken on purpose because she’s aware enough that maybe she’ll be able to have a real conversation with me, pass information.”

“Why contact you and not Castiel, though?”

Claire paused then, trying to think past the excitement that made her heart pace like a galloping horse. She remembered Millie’s look right before she was kidnapped; it really felt like she had tried to pass some sort of message there, and at the time Claire had thought she was merely trying to tell her not to act rashly.

“She looked at me and-Maybe if I expect it it’ll be easier for her. Maybe the fact that we’re both humans and only somewhat angel, whereas Castiel is pure angel, will make the connection easier. Or maybe she’s just that mistrustful of him.” She flopped back on the bed. “I need to fall asleep.”

Ben’s warm hand stroked over her bare arm. “You need to relax. You won’t fall asleep if you’re tense like this.”

“I know,” she said, and she heard the impatience in her voice even before he chuckled and pointed out, “You’re just proving my point, you know.”

Jesse wasn’t saying anything, so he had probably fallen asleep. Lucky him, she thought, until she remembered guiltily just how little sleep he got on a daily basis, and how much he needed whatever scrap of it he could get.

“What would you have me do?” she asked Ben in a frustrated whisper, trying not to wake Jesse up in case he really was sleeping.

“Just relax, it’s not that hard.” They were both whispering now. Ben scooted closer to her, looping an arm over her waist. “Let it go. Give in to me.”

“You’re sounding like a cult guru.”

Another chuckle, sending puffs of air against her cheek. “I’m going to sing you to sleep.”

And he did; old Beatles songs, Metallica and AC/DC-Dean’s influence, most probably-childish lullabies, and current pop songs that she had only a vague awareness of. He sung until his words merged into each other and made no sense, leaving only the deep rumble of his voice to lead her to sleep.

---

The dream, at first, felt like a regular dream. It was cold and damp and a fine drizzle was descending on her, making it feel like she was breathing chilly water. It was dark, but she couldn’t tell whether it was night or the lid of charcoal-gray clouds was just that thick.

Then she could hear words, snippets of a conversation that was reaching her as though through a radio with very bad reception: when… promise… enough… more…

The voice was vaguely familiar, but, as she was trying to place it, something moved in front of her and-She was standing facing a wide lake, or maybe the ocean because there was only water as far as the eye could see. She didn’t know if she had been there all along and hadn’t realized it because the gray waters merged seamlessly with the gray sky. The surface of the lake rippled and swelled, and rose like a mountain was growing from the bottom, water streaming from it as it surged up, dark and gigantic and alive.

She couldn’t breathe. You don’t scare me! yelled the voice from before, suddenly crystal clear, but she was scared and not stupid enough to deny it. The live mountain was so big that at first all that registered was one huge mass, still dripping with water, cut out against the dark gray sky. It moved sinuously, leaving a dark trail behind it where part of its body was still hidden under water. It screeched and then she could see a mouth, rows of sharp and pointy teeth barring its access like a chain of mountains. Details could now be made out: its belly was a clearer gray, almost white by contrast, and on what she could see of the rest of its body the skin looked cracked and crevassed, covered in bumps and craters like the surface of the moon. It had two appendices, some sorts of fins maybe, that flapped on both its sides, sending water in the air.

The creature screeched again but this time it wasn’t just a noise that pierced her eardrums, but sound with meaning, a message that didn’t use language the way she understood it but that she could still perceive loud and clear.

Angels, it said.

Claire woke up with her heart in her throat. She didn’t think she’d made a sound but both Ben and Jesse were instantly awake with her, Jesse with a choked out noise, fighting for breath as he often did since the mare.

“What the fuck was that?” Jesse asked tensely, a hand pressed against his chest.

“You-Did you see it?” He had never reacted to any of her dreams before.

“I heard you gasp,” Ben offered. “I guess you had a new dream. Millie?”

“I didn’t see anything,” Jesse said, overlapping with Ben. “But I felt something. It felt distinctly angel-like,” he added, sounding clearly disgruntled at the fact.

Millie had to be so much stronger than the boy had been for Jesse to feel the difference, Claire thought absently. She sat up, and felt Ben follow suit like she was pulling at him with a string.

“It was probably Millie,” she said, thinking back to what she’d seen in a clinical way she’d been unable to reach with her previous dreams. “But I didn’t see her, I think I-I think I saw what she was seeing.”

“What was she seeing?”

A monster, some childish part of Claire answered, maybe the part of Millie that was still a human child and couldn’t process what she had seen. But in the moments between her vision and waking up, Claire’s adult mind had connected the dots and come up with a label for that monstrosity.

“The Leviathan,” she said. “Or a Leviathan, at least, although I sure hope there isn’t more than one of those things out there. Someone-Ramiel, most probably-was talking to it and… It sounds rather crazy, but I think that the Leviathan is the, um, the brain of the operation. It’s pushing Ramiel to capture the angels.”

“What for?” Ben asked. “Does it want grace too?”

“Maybe it wants to rule all things fishy,” Jesse suggested.

Claire could see the monster in her mind as clearly as if she were still facing it. It had seemed impossibly huge to her, but she had to remember that she’d been looking at him from the perspective of a small child. The air hadn’t felt salty, so the water she’d seen probably wasn’t the ocean but rather a lake.

“If it managed to slip by through the Purgatory door when Castiel had it open, it couldn’t have been the size it is now.”

“Monster on angel steroids,” Ben groaned. “Lovely.”

When Claire managed to get back to sleep, her head pillowed on Ben’s shoulder, her last thought was for Millie, cold and damp, facing a giant sea monster.

---

“I started looking for potential grace spots,” Sam explained. “Anna’s was a giant oak tree that sprouted in the space of a year in Kentucky. Witnesses spoke a shooting star the night of her fall, so I’ve been looking for odd reports of shooting stars and occurrences of abnormal plant growths.”

They were at the Winchesters’, crowding around the coffee table where Sam had his laptop. The bay window was open on the back yard, letting a soft breath of warm air slip inside. Facing his brother in a chair by the empty fireplace, Dean squinted like a man who needed glasses but hadn’t gotten as far as admitting it. There were faint lines of old pain around his eyes and mouth, but he seemed to be feeling fine at the moment, if a tad cranky-but then it didn’t make a big difference from Dean as Claire had always known him.

She wondered where Castiel was, if he was out there looking out for the kids. The thought kept nagging at her like the pinprick pain of a needle’s sting, and she felt annoyed at herself for it.

“I’ve found a couple of trees that match those criteria,” Sam went on. Ben, sitting to Claire’s right on the battered couch, looked deeply interested, while Jesse, to her left, seemed about to fall asleep. “But that doesn’t account for the number of fallen angels we have, so I had to review my criteria a bit. In the end I’ve found a dozen or so weird occurrences that could be explained by a sudden showering of grace: water of a spring that gained healing properties overnight, a house that seems to keep forming new rooms in a way that mystifies the owners, plants that changed colors or started shining, and even something that people swear is a talking tree.”

“We’ll have to keep on eye on those spots, see if our old buddy Ramiel get there,” Dean said.

If Ramiel got there, it would mean that he had found Millie’s grace and had no more use for her. Claire would rather not to think about the possibility.

“What’s Castiel doing?” she asked before she could help herself.

Dean shot her a shrewd look. “Checking on the baby angels.”

“Oh. Right.”

“I don’t think we can keep an eye both on the kids and on the potential grace spots, and then hope that Ramiel himself is just going to show up and not send his demons cronies again,” Ben said.

“Ben’s right,” Sam said. “We’re stretched very thin, and Ramiel is apparently being cautious about involving himself.”

“What’s he trying to do, anyway?” Jesse asked. He looked wide awake now, and more than a bit uncomfortable. “Do you think he’s going to try and open Lucifer’s Cage again?”

“We wouldn’t let it go that far,” Ben promised hotly, and the protectiveness made Jesse smile even though all three of them knew that Jesse could take care of himself.

“We need to look for the Leviathan,” Claire said. “He seems to be the one… in control, I guess? Or at least at the origin of the whole plan.”

Dean snorted. “An angel in cahoots with a giant sea monster. Sounds like the start of a bad joke. But finding that beast is one thing-what do we do when we know where it is?”

“The Lord with his hard and great and strong sword will punish Leviathan the fleeing serpent, Leviathan the twisting serpent, and he will slay the dragon that is in the sea,” Claire murmured.

“What,” Dean said, at the same time Sam was saying, “It’s from the Bible, right?”

“Isaiah 27:1,” Claire confirmed. “That sword, do you think it might-”

The wash of warmth she associated with Castiel swooped over her one second before he actually materialized in the middle of the Winchesters’ living room.

“Hello,” he said a split second too late to be natural, as if only remembering what he was supposed to say; if he was surprised by Claire and the boys’ presence, he didn’t let any of it show on his face.

“Hi, Cas,” Sam said, not diverting his eyes from his computer screen.

“How are things?” Dean asked.

It never failed to amaze Claire how nonchalant the Winchester brothers were with Castiel, like they were just regular friends meeting for a barbecue. No Heaven, no Hell, no Apocalypse. No pesky matter like Claire’s father body being used as naturally as ordinary people step in their shoes.

“The children are fine,” Castiel said. “For now.”

Sam took upon himself to explain Claire’s dream about the Leviathan. “According to Claire,” he said, “the Bible mentions a sword being used by God to kill the Leviathan. Is that sword among the angelic weapons your friend Balthazar stole?”

Dean winced, and Sam seemed to realize he’d said something he shouldn’t have because he tore his eyes from his computer to meet with his brother’s. “Uh,” he said, turning to Castiel with an apologetic look on his face.

Ben shared a look with Claire that said, what the hell, and Claire shrugged. The name Balthazar rung a bell as an angel Castiel had been friendly with, but she didn’t know why he seemed to be a sore point for him.

“Yes,” Castiel said, his voice clear and precise in the awkward silence that had settled. “The angelic weapons indeed include a sword that may very well be able to kill the Leviathan.”

“Okay,” Dean said, watching his friend with caution. “And do you have any idea where-”

“I’m not sure. I am sure it’s not among the weapons Balthazar gave back to me, but I know a number of Balthazar’s hiding places that I could check.”

“You do that,” Sam said, looking relieved by Castiel’s non-reaction to the name of his friend. “I’ll look for possible locations for the Leviathan. A gigantic sea serpent shouldn’t be too difficult to find. You said you thought it was in a lake, right, Claire?”

“Yes. But I don’t know if this lake is even in the US.”

“If the Leviathan escaped when Purgatory was open,” Sam sneaked a covert glance at Castiel, “then it’s likely it’s still on the continent. It would’ve gone for the closest patch of water.”

“I’ll look for the sword,” Castiel said. Then, unexpectedly: “Claire, would you come and help me?”

For a moment, she didn’t know how to answer that. What could he possibly need her for? She had never met this Balthazar, was no expert at finding divine monster-killing swords.

“We can help too,” Jesse said over her silence. “I mean, if you don’t mind us.”

“Yes,” Castiel said, nodding along. “If I give you some of the locations, we could split up and cover more ground. Thank you for your offer.”

Ben and Jesse shared a look that Claire had no trouble deciphering: this wasn’t what Jesse had wanted to suggest; he’d wanted to be there as an emotional support for Claire in case she needed it, and she felt warmed by the knowledge. At the same time, she understood in a flash that Castiel wanted to be alone with her, and she couldn’t help but wonder why.

“This is a good idea,” she said, standing up to join Castiel. “I’ll go with Castiel, you two go together, and I’m sure we’ll find this sword in no time.”

She tried to communicate with her eyes that she was okay with it and they didn’t need to worry. It seemed to work on Jesse, because he shrugged and said, “Sounds like a plan.” Ben, for his part, held her eyes a little longer, as if checking on any hidden distress. She repressed a fond eye-roll of exasperation; she would have found it more annoying, that protectiveness of his, if he hadn’t been the exact same way with Jesse. At least she knew it wasn’t a reflection on her ability to take care of herself.

She took Castiel’s hand, signaling him she was ready to go. Ben and Jesse positioned themselves in a mirror image, holding hands too in preparation for the jump. Castiel gave them a few addresses, from all over the country and even outside of it.

“Are they all Balthazar’s hiding places?” Dean said with a low whistle. “Guy’s been busy.”

“Only the ones I know about,” Castiel said.

“Well, good luck.”

Claire smiled at Ben and Jesse. Ben was still frowning a little, looking a bit put upon, but Jesse returned her smile. “I’ll look after him,” he told her playfully, nudging at Ben to get him to react. “Bring him back home safe to you.”

“Hey,” Ben said, his voice pitched in indignation. “I’m not a puppy or-”

The rest of his sentence cut short by Jesse teleporting them before he could finish it. Castiel and Claire didn’t waste any time leaving. Being transported by Castiel didn’t feel much different from doing it with Jesse, but it was still a little less jarring. If she closed her eyes, she could almost pretend she was doing it on her own power.

They appeared under a bright blue sky studded with light fluffs of clouds, in an alley bordered by rows of iron blinds painted red. Storage lockers, most probably. Claire’s first thought was that it was an oddly human sort of hiding place.

“Balthazar took on the human ways very quickly.”

Claire almost startled at the sound of Castiel’s voice. Had she spoken out loud? Or was she just that transparent to him?

“Do you really hope to find the sword here? Do you think your friend would have left it just hanging around, gathering dust in a storage locker?”

“The fact that it sounds so improbable should make it a good hiding place, doesn’t it?” Castiel sighed. “But no, I don’t really expect the sword to be here. One must be thorough, though, and Balthazar had a way of surprising you.”

“Well. You’re the one who knew him.”

She took a sharp breath in, wanting to say something else but finding she didn’t have enough air to do it. Her heartbeat sped up and she cursed herself for her uncontrolled nervousness. It was Castiel-she knew him inside and out, quite literally. It wasn’t as if she had anything to fear from him. But then again, it was Castiel, and no one had wrecked her life more thoroughly than he’d done.

“Tell me,” she said, and she’d been afraid before she spoke that her voice would tremble, but it didn’t. “What you wanted to say. Why you insisted that I go with you and send Ben and Jesse off somewhere else.”

Castiel never looked very cheerful, but the gravity on his face at that moment didn’t do anything for Claire’s nerves.

“I may have to ask something of you,” he said. “Something that I promised I would never ask and yet I find myself in a position where I might not have much choice. You can say no, of course.”

Claire’s breath caught in her throat. Intuitively she knew what he was alluding to, but she needed to hear it from him. “What is it?”

“If it comes down to it, we may have to fight Ramiel and the Leviathan. I’m not very worried about Ramiel, as I am fairly confident that I can take him again as I have in the past, but the Leviathan-They are my Father’s oldest creations, dating from long before my kind came into being. I have never even seen any of them myself. I’m not sure what to expect, but I fear fighting that creature might be beyond my abilities in… my current vessel.”

“So you would-You would let go of my father, take me in his place? Is that what you’re saying?”

She had asked it of him before, and he’d always said no, claiming he’d promised her father, and she’d resigned herself to it but now-

“Claire.” Castiel’s normally marble features morphed into something pained. “No-not exactly. You father-there really isn’t anything left to let go of.”

“What-What do you mean?”

“Your father is dead.” As she wasn’t saying anything, he went on, “He has died, and I have been able to continue to use him but if I do take you as a vessel, he won’t be anything more than a dead body. And I intend to go back to him once we’re done. I told you before, I promised Jimmy-”

“Don’t,” she said, and he broke off.

She turned away from him, keenly aware that, whatever she was feeling, whatever the turmoil she felt roaring inside her could be called, it was probably painted all over her face. She didn’t want him to see it. All these years, she’d held onto that one thing: that what had happened to her father had some sort of meaning. Even if she couldn’t see it quite clearly, even if it wasn’t designed by the God she’d been told had up and abandoned His creation to power-hungry angels. She’d been raised to believe that everything had a purpose, and she’d never been strong enough to let go of that belief in spite of evidence to the contrary. Her father had been taken away from her but he had a purpose, and she would take over one day-she tried not to think too much of her more selfish reasons, of that awful longing that never went away-and her father would eventually be free. But she now knew that it would never happen; her father was gone and Castiel had known all along.

“Why didn’t you-” It was hard to talk past the lump blocking her throat. “Why did you never tell me?”

“I thought you knew. I assumed-”

“How could I know if you never told me?” Her anger was like a wild animal, trying to claw its way out of her ribcage.

“Everything my vessel went through, he could never have survived-”

“I thought you could heal your vessel!”

“Not if the vessel is entirely destroyed! Your father’s soul-has moved on. I’m sorry, Claire.”

She reached out and touched his sleeve, feeling the weather-worn material of the trench coat under her fingers. “This is just an empty shell, then.”

Castiel looked about to say something else-undoubtedly some meaningless words-but she raised a hand to stop him. “Let’s do what we came here for, okay?”

Castiel led them along the identical red blinds and stopped in front of one them, undistinguishable from the others save from the number above it: 427. Claire expected Castiel to produce a key to open it, but the angel merely pressed a hand over the surface of the blinds, fingers spread.

“I deactivated the wards,” he explained, catching Claire’s look. Then he bent over to push the blinds open.

“It wasn’t locked?” Claire said.

“Of course it was,” Castiel answered, sounding like locks were an inconsequential matter-and for him, they probably were.

Sunlight followed their entrance and spilled over the items stacked inside the long narrow room: boxes piled over each other, most of them with some kind of symbol painted or engraved on it-Claire recognized some Enochian, but others looked completely unfamiliar-objects coming in various shapes and forms wrapped in sheets, pieces of furniture, bocals filled with liquid in which unidentified things floated.

Castiel zig-zagged in between the clutter like he’d done it a million times and could have maneuvered in here blind. Claire followed him with less ease, bumping her shins and elbows in everything, her eyes searching the shadows for something sword-shaped.

“It’s not here,” Castiel said after a moment; she didn’t ask him how he could be so sure.

“Okay. Then let’s-”

There was a noise outside, but it wasn’t the reason she cut herself off-it was rather because of the way the hair on her arms suddenly stood up, her skin crawling with an all too familiar feeling.

She looked over at Castiel-she didn’t need to ask him whether he’d felt the demonic presence too because, if she had, he probably had too, ten-fold. He nodded minutely at her and took her hand. In a matter of a second, they had left the storage locker and were now in a street, probably in a different town and even in a different state, because it was cold and drizzly and the sky was a dull shade of brownish gray.

“What were they doing here?” Claire asked, looking around with feverish paranoia. “Were they following us? How? Oh God, we left the storage door unlocked!”

“There was little in there that would interest them or that they could use. As to how they knew where we were-”

“Maybe you’re not the only one who was privy to your friend Balthazar’s secrets.”

She didn’t think she’d sounded harsh or accusatory; in fact, she’d very consciously worked on her self-control so she wouldn’t sound anything but neutral. Castiel still flinched almost imperceptibly at his friend’s name. She could see it for what it was, now: guilt. Whatever had happened between Castiel and his friend must have not been pretty, but she found that she couldn’t muster any curiosity about it.

“Ramiel didn’t know Balthazar that well.” He sounded fairly confident about it.

“Maybe Millie did, then,” Claire said, her stomach clenching uncomfortably at the thought of what the little girl was probably going through right now. “Where are we, anyway? Another hiding place?”

“Yes. Balthazar had another storage locker not far from here. But let’s see whether they’ve followed us here before we head to it.”

They walked around for a while, taking random turns-or at least what looked to Claire like random turns-until she was damp and chilled, her clothes not suited for that kind of weather. It looked like a small town, the streets not as busy as they would’ve been in a bigger city, and they were definitely a lot further north than Long Beach, California. Once Castiel was satisfied with the lack of demonic presence, they visited another storage locker as cluttered as the first. Castiel declared it a bust too.

---

The rest of the day was spent whirling through half-a-dozen other locations. More dusty storage lockers, but also thick darkened woods and caves and lakes and deserts, and, by the time the light was starting to dim as dusk settled,-East Coast dusk, most probably, because at her watch it was still only six o’clock-Claire was wearied to the bone, cold and hungry. Even though she didn’t mind the angel mode of transportation, she was starting to get dizzier with every new trip. They’d had to dodge demons a few other times and it looked more and more like they were not just lucky-guessing at their destination, but actively following them.

“H-how-are-they doing this?” Claire said, teeth chattering from the cold of their new location: the wind-whipped side of a mountain, right at the open mouth of a pitch-black cave. She hugged herself tight, grabbing at her elbows, trying to preserve what little warmth she had left in her core.

“They must have put some sort of a tracker on one of us, or on something we have,” Castiel said grimly, his eyes sweeping over what they could see of the valley from the ledge they were standing on. “We’ll have a look in here before we head back to Ben’s apartment. We’ll have the leisure then to get this sorted.”

Something on them, or on something they had-Claire didn’t have anything on her but her clothes, but the idea that demons could have put something on her body-how? could it have happened when she had been wrestling demons at Jody’s house?-was enough to give her a full body shudder that was not entirely caused by the temperature.

“Yes. Right. Let’s have a look.”

They had explored a few other caves in various areas of the world, but this one looked particularly uninviting. Claire swallowed hard, feeling her saliva go down. Nevertheless, she took a resolute step into the shadows. Darkness seemed to engulf her almost instantly, like it had a life of its own and wasn’t just the absence of light. She felt Castiel’s presence at her back, and even though she didn’t know where to stand with him right now, it still brought her a measure of comfort and she straightened, squaring her shoulders.

“Can you-I don’t know, make a light or something?” She whispered her question, for some reason unwilling to disturb the oppressive silence.

“Of course.”

A second later, a ball of pure white light was floating at face-level between them. It was so bright that it drew no shadow on Castiel’s face, but made him look pale and washed out, almost like a corpse. Claire thought of the little flame Jesse sometimes conjured, warm and alive, writhing in the center of his palm as if trying to escape. Hell versus Heaven. She suddenly missed Ben and Jesse a lot more fiercely than a few hours’ long separation should have warranted.

“How deep is this cave?” she asked, still keeping her voice low.

“Not as deep as it looks. But this place is… peculiar. We shouldn’t spend more time here than we need. Follow me.”

She let him lead the way, trailing after the white light and the narrow back in the ill-fitting trench coat. Not being able to see Castiel’s face and expression made it easier to confuse him with her father, but he looked so much less big than he had when she was a child. Her eyes welled up at the thought of Jimmy, and she blinked a few times until they stopped burning.

Something flew past her face, not grazing her but still moving air, and it startled her badly enough that she let out a short, contained yelp. It took a few seconds for her heart to go back to a normal pace.

“Claire?”

“I’m fine. I think it was a bat.” Hopefully.

Having a light, she found out as they walked further, was a double-edged sword. The complete darkness had been unnerving enough, and she was grateful to be able to see her path. But now the shadows at the edge of their bubble of light seemed all the thicker, standing guard like a pack of wolves circling a fire, waiting for the right opening to pounce on them.

“Do you feel anything?” she whispered. “I think-”

Maybe she was too tired, too nervous, and too paranoid to make sense of what she was feeling, but she thought it felt like they weren’t alone in that cave, that they were being watched by something that wasn’t friendly at all.

“Castiel?” she said, making his name no more than a squeak. “I wanna turn back. Let’s-”

There was a distinct sound, coming from behind them, closer to the entrance of the cave. It was a crunching noise like someone stepping on gravel, and the moment she heard it she knew it was more demons. Paradoxically, it made Claire feel less terrified. A well-known threat sounded more manageable than whatever ominous presence she could feel lurking in the dark. She blindly gripped Castiel’s coat sleeve, but, before they had the time for one more Houdini act, two silhouettes stepped inside the circle of light-one unknown man, and the woman Claire had fought at Jody’s house.

“Oh, no, you don’t,” said the woman before she lunged herself at Claire.

Claire stumbled back and into Castiel, losing her grasp of him. The light vanished and darkness rushed back, leaving Claire to rely on her other senses to ward off the demons’ attacks and to find Castiel’s arm again. Hands were trying to get a hold of her, but she could feel them all the more acutely now that sight wasn’t an option anymore. She managed to block them and tried to get past them so she could run towards the exit. She’d only made a few steps when she got pushed into a wall, her shoulder taking the brunt of the shock, sending a jolt of pain through her arm.

“Castiel,” she grunted.

Sudden light breached the darkness on the trail of a scream from one of the demons, and she could see Castiel illuminated by the light rays shooting out of the male demon’s mouth and eyes. His grim expression looked hollow in the unnatural lighting. The demon’s human host crumpled on himself, and Claire felt a pang, wondering if the man was dead or alive, but the other demon, frozen for a moment by what had happened to her companion, looked ready to attack Castiel again and Claire left all thoughts aside and jumped to her feet, colliding into the demon and sending them both to the ground.

“Claire!” Castiel barked. Claire rolled aside to get out of his way and when light surged again, she could see that Castiel had hauled the demon to her feet by grabbing the collar of her jacket.

When darkness settled again Claire remained for a moment on her back, trying to catch her breath.

“Are there any more of them?” she asked.

She couldn’t feel anything, but she was rattled enough that she didn’t entirely trust herself.

“I don’t think so.”

“Are the hosts-are they-”

She heard a swish of fabric, Castiel moving, before he said, “They’re both dead.”

“Is it because you-”

“They were no more than animated corpses.”

Just as you are, then. The words burned like acid in her throat but she said nothing.

“I want to get out of here.”

Maybe the sword was here, maybe it wasn’t, but she’d be damned if she stayed one more minute. She heard a scraping noise indicating that Castiel was following suit, and told herself that she didn’t care what he did-which was a stupid thought, because he was her ride back home and she didn’t know where she was-but it made her feel better to be able to pretend that kind of savage indifference.

They emerged from the cave and sunlight hit her in the face, making her close her eyes against its assault. The wind dried the sweat from the fight off her skin and she shivered, cold and exhausted. The sound of Castiel’s footsteps came from behind her, echoing against the walls of the cave.

“What are we going to do with the bodies?” she asked, even though it was the last thing she wanted to talk about.

“I’ll come back for them later.”

“Their families-”

“I’ll handle it, Claire.”

Shamefully, she left it at that and didn’t question it further. He put a hand on her shoulder and she tensed against the contact.

“Let’s get you home.”