Fix the Sky a Little, part four

[chiiyo86]

Ben and Jesse hadn’t been any luckier than them, but they also hadn’t encountered any demons.

“Maybe they’re afraid of Jesse,” Ben suggested.

It had been said without irony but drew a chuckle out of Jesse, who said, “I knew there was a reason I liked you, mate.”

“They must have tracked us one way or another,” Claire said somberly.

Castiel was gone, but she thought it was unlikely that the demons would be able to track him without Castiel being aware of it. She, on the other hand-

“Dean told me about magic coins being used as trackers sometimes,” Ben said.

“The only moment I can think of when a demon could have put a tracker on me is at Jody’s home, and I’m not wearing anything I wore that day.”

“They could have marked you, then.”

“But we had a pretty, uh, thorough examination of Claire’s body the other night,” Jesse objected.

“Were you looking for demonic marks? Because I wasn’t, and she was pretty bruised up.”

“Okay,” Claire said, making it to get to her feet. “I’m going to the bathroom to give it a look.” She gave them a warning look. “I don’t need any help.”

She couldn’t imagine mixing sex with that kind of grim activity, but obviously they could because they both looked disappointed.

“What about the parts of your body that you can’t see for yourself?” Jesse said.

“I’ll use the mirror.” He opened his mouth but she didn’t let him speak: “Please, I need to be alone right now.”

That did the trick. Jesse shrugged and said, “Okay. Call if you need anything. We’ll rush to your side in no time.”

She felt her lips twitch. “I have no doubt.”

“I mean it. If at any moment you feel like you can’t handle it-”

“Oh, shut up.”

Ben started to snicker but she ignored him, turning away. Once she was in the bathroom, she slowly peeled off her clothes, suddenly all too aware of her new aches now that she was on her own and could focus on herself. She turned to the mirror hung above the sink; the light from the neon light shed revealing light on her pallor and on the shadows under her eyes. She looked like a piece of clothing that had had one too many washings. She certainly felt like it. She wasn’t usually one to be self-conscious about her appearance, but the person she was seeing in the mirror at that moment looked too pale, too thin, and way too gloomy.

She sighed, and started to look herself over, beginning with the soles of her feet and then methodically moving up to her ankles, her calves, her thighs, the planes of her stomach. She had several series of bruises marring her skin in a few places; some were already paling to a greenish yellow, but others were new and sensitive to the touch.

She heard someone knock on the door just as she was examining her breasts, feeling stupid because how could a demon manage to mark her here?

“You okay in here?” asked Ben; he sounded like he was talking with his face pressed to the door.

She had the brief thought that he probably wouldn’t mind helping her with the examination of her breasts, and it made her smile.

“I’m fine,” she said. “Go bother Jesse.”

“Jesse isn’t standing in the bathroom naked, examining every inch of his skin.”

“If you ask him nicely, I’m sure it can be arranged.”

He laughed softly and the sound sparked a bloom of warmth in the center of Claire’s chest. When he spoke again, though, he sounded serious. “Is everything okay with Castiel? When he took you back you looked, I don’t know-tense.”

She felt a sigh make its way up her throat and stifled it. “I’ll tell you about it later.”

“Okay.” He tapped on the door twice. “Have fun in there.”

Right, fun. She resumed her self-examination, following the course of her fingers in the mirror when she got to her collarbone and couldn’t look at it directly. She had a few bruises there, looking like fingerprints and undoubtedly the courtesy of the demon she had fought at Jody’s. Most of the bruises were the yellow color of healing bruises, except for an angry red one that stood out in contrast with the others. She rubbed a finger over it and felt some sort of pattern in relief. She leaned forward, squinting at her image in the mirror: it was definitely not a normal bruise, but she couldn’t recognize the symbol drawn there. She covered it with her palm, like she could interfere with whatever tracking method the demons used.

Taking a resolute breath, she put her clothes back on and left the bathroom. The boys were in the living room, chatting in low voices but in relaxed enough undertones that she didn’t think it was about anything serious. She found them on the couch, Jesse perched on the arm, Ben sitting with his legs drawn to his chest. They stopped talking when she came in, immediately looking at her in silent question.

“I found something,” she said, cutting right to the chase. “Looks like some sort of symbol, but I don’t know where it’s from.” She hooked a finger under the collar of her top and drew it down so they could have a look.

“How come we didn’t notice it before?” Ben said, looking troubled and maybe a little guilty.

“I guess that, when the other bruises were fresh, it didn’t stand out as much.”

“How can we get rid of it?” Jesse said.

She looked at him. “Well, I do have an idea.”

She knew he’d gotten her meaning when his face fell. “Jesus,” he said, threading his fingers through his hair. “Okay, right.”

“Okay to what?” Ben asked, looking back and forth between Jesse and Claire. “What are you going to-” The tip of Jesse’s forefinger started to glow a bright red. “Oh. Aw, man.”

“It’s not that different from when you were carving that symbol into Jesse’s skin,” Claire said, trying to sound like her insides weren’t tying into knots from anticipation and dread.

“Well, I wasn’t a fan of that either, but at least I knew Jesse would heal quickly. Besides,” Ben added with the hint of a smirk, “I think he got off on it-didn’t you, Jess?”

Jesse flushed violently, but he sounded light when he replied, “Yeah, kinda. Not because of the pain, but-I don’t know, something about the intimacy, I guess.”

Ben shook his head in mock disapproval. “The two of you and your mutilation kink. For the record, I don’t like this at all.”

“Duly noted,” Claire said, but it was Jesse that Ben was looking at, all amusement gone from his eyes. “Are you sure about this?”

“Yeah,” Jesse said, but he looked more confused than sure.

“Fine,” Ben said. “But let me get the first aid kit before you start.”

Jesse’s finger stopped glowing. “I didn’t think of that,” he said apologetically to Claire while Ben was off in the bathroom. “It didn’t even occur to me.”

“It’s fine,” she told him, but, even though she saw him do impossible things all the time, this obliviousness regarding injuries gave her an uncomfortable sense of how far from human he was.

Ben came back with their first aid kit-which had undergone a serious upgrade since they had taken up hunting-and motioned for Claire to sit down on the couch. “It won’t do you good to be standing when the pain hits,” he said.

She complied, her skin now tingling with nerves. She almost wished that Jesse had done it right when she had suggested it so that it would be over with already. Jesse sat beside her and she had to half-turn to face him, pushing her hair to give him access. His finger glowed like simmering embers and he inched closer to her until they touched. Claire could feel his breath against her skin and she suddenly understood what he had meant about intimacy.

“Ready?” Jesse said softly, his gray eyes searching her face for signs that she didn’t want to do this anymore. “On the count of three: one, two-”

“Ow!”

Jesse scooted away from her, hands falling back to his sides. “Are you okay?”

She had to stop pinching her lips to grind out an answer. “Not really.”

She’d known it would hurt, but she hadn’t had the time to give it much thought and she realized now that some part of her had assumed it would just be one bad moment to weather, like getting a shot. But actually she felt like the pain was just getting worse by the second, and now she could swear that Jesse had burned the whole underside of her collarbone.

“I’m sorry,” Jesse said.

“It’s okay.” She didn’t feel much like talking, but he looked stricken and she had done this to him, so she forced out a smile. “I asked you to. Thank you.”

“Hopefully it’ll be enough for the mark to stop working,” Ben said. “Let me see it.”

Jesse gave away his spot on the couch to Ben, and then he must have disappeared somewhere because she couldn’t hear or feel him in the room and didn’t dare try to turn her head to look.

“He’s gone?” she asked Ben as he was cleaning up the burn with a disinfectant that didn’t sting.

Ben’s eyes briefly flicked away to check. “Yeah.”

“I should have just done it myself. I shouldn’t have asked it of him.” Jesse’s powers had been used to hurt people before. She hadn’t even stopped to take this into consideration.

Ben looked up from her wound and into her eyes. “Yeah, maybe you shouldn’t have. But hey, what’s done is done.” His fingers were now rubbing some cream into her burn in slow circles, soothing the pain to a manageable level. “Better now?”

“Yes. Thank you. And sorry.”

Ben cocked his head. “About Jesse? If you feel like apologizing, then I don’t think I’m the right target. But you know, I don’t think he’ll get it if you do. You asked for something, he didn’t have to think twice before giving it to you. If he feels bad about it now, he probably think it’s a failure on his part.”

Claire felt her cheeks burn. “I’m the worst girlfriend ever, am I?”

“Oh, no, hey.” Ben stroked a hand over her hair, up to the top of her and down to the back of her neck. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel like shit about it.”

She nodded, the weight of his hand warm against the nape of her neck.

“Sometimes I feel like I’m performing a juggling act, dating you two,” he said.

“You don’t have to take everything upon yourself.”

“I know. Must be my nurturing nature,” he said dryly. “Anyway, don’t feel bad. You had to act quickly before the demons used that mark again. And you look like you had a really crap day, hmm?”

His hand had moved to massaging the junctions between neck and shoulders with his thumb and fingers, digging expertly into the hard muscles there. She rocked back her head into the contact and closed her eyes.

“Yes. Very crappy day. Much wandering about into caves and storage lockers and being stalked by demons.”

“Sounds like my day. Except for the ‘stalked by demons’ part.”

“Castiel asked my permission to use me again as a vessel when we fight the Leviathan.”

The hand on her neck stilled. She didn’t open her eyes, unwilling to confront the expression she could imagine was on his face.

“Tell me I’m not petting Castiel right now.” There was a strain to his voice, like he was trying hard to sound light-hearted but couldn’t quite get there.

“Of course not. You would notice the difference, believe me. He was just asking, in case-It would only be temporary.”

“You’re considering it.”

She had to open her eyes then, because she couldn’t read his voice at all, but it turned out that the look on his face wasn’t much easier to decipher.

“It would only be temporary,” she repeated, and hated how it came out as almost pleading.

“Why does he need you?” Ben had dropped his hand from her neck and she felt the loss keenly. “I thought-You told me before that he’d promised your father he wouldn’t use you again. What happened to that?”

She felt a tightness in her chest, like a hand closing on her heart, the pain fresh again at the thought of what Castiel had revealed to her.

“My father is dead,” she said, looking down to her hands. “He’s just an empty shell now, and my father’s soul is now-in Heaven, I guess.”

“Oh, Claire.”

“It means that Castiel doesn’t have as much power as he would with a living vessel. That’s why he needs me to fight the Leviathan.”

She still wasn’t looking at Ben, but she felt the couch move with the shift of his weight, and it wasn’t a surprise when his arms circled around her.

“I’m sorry,” he said against her ear. “But at least, your father must be at peace now.”

She hadn’t considered it under that angle; now, she felt the prickle of tears in her eyes at the thought. Her father in Heaven meant that he really was dead; her father in Heaven meant he was no longer chained to a comet.

“You don’t want me to accept Castiel’s request,” she said, and Ben released her.

“The decision is yours, as it’s always been. I’m just… scared that you won’t come back from it. That you won’t want to.”

She wanted to give him the assurances he needed to hear, but she wasn’t actually sure of what she felt, and lying to him wasn’t something she had in her. “It’s not-You and Jesse have each other.”

“Is that supposed to make it okay?” he snapped. “Do you think you two are interchangeable in my eyes?”

“No. Of course not. I didn’t mean it that way.”

He looked away, like he didn’t want her to see his face, but his body language was just as easy to read. As if summoned by his anguish, Jesse appeared right in the spot Ben had diverted his attention to, and Claire saw Ben’s tension flop from his shoulders. Claire felt a pang at the sight: just as he was afraid that she wouldn’t come back from her angelic possession, Ben was always afraid that Jesse wouldn’t come back when he went off like this.

Jesse’s hair was a mess, tousled like it had been whipped by the wind, but he looked relaxed and he smiled at the sight of them on the couch.

“Hey.”

Claire stood up and walked up to him, put her arms around him and her chin on his shoulder. She could feel his heart beat, reverberating from his ribcage through hers. He smelled like fresh air and his skin was cooler to the touch than usual.

“Sorry,” she whispered.

“What for?”

She pulled away and gestured to her collarbone, to where she could still feel a dull pulse of pain. “This. I shouldn’t have asked.”

“But you couldn’t have just done it yourself. It was more practical that way.”

She shook her head. He wouldn’t understand, Ben had said. She held Jesse tighter, and after a moment she could feel him run his knuckles against her spine.

---

Waking up in the middle of the night from a dream seemed to have become a habit, one that she could have done without. It wouldn’t be as bad if each time she didn’t also wake up Ben or Jesse or both.

“Claire?” Ben mumbled. “Again?”

You knew things were bad when one of the first things the person sharing your bed said was ‘again’. But this time, at least, she wasn’t feeling the usual dread, panic or incomprehension. On the contrary, as the adrenaline from the dream started to ebb and she was parsing the meaning of her dream, her main emotion was excitement.

“Is Jesse awake?” she asked, trying to sound calm and not even a little bit unhinged.

“Yeah,” Jesse grumbled. “Yeah, now I am. What-”

“Castiel!” Claire called. “Castiel, come here!”

“What?” Jesse scrambled to a sitting position. “Oh, no, you’re not going to summon an angel to our bedroom-”

“Hello,” Castiel said. “Don’t mind me.”

All the lights in the room-from the overhead lamp and the nightstand lamp on Claire’s side-flashed on and off and the shelf fixed above Ben’s desk trembled.

“Oops,” said Jesse. “Sorry about that. Oh, hey, hi, Castiel,” he added wryly. “Please, make yourself at home.”

Castiel looked unfazed at finding the three of them in bed. Claire wondered for the first time how much awareness he had of their relationship, and what exactly he thought of it. Jesse didn’t seem to share Claire’s nonchalance about Castiel’s apparition and acted uncharacteristically worried about his modesty, pulling the sheet to cover himself with it.

“Am I dreaming?” he asked, the tense undercurrent in his voice reminding Claire that, coming from him, this wasn’t entirely a joke. “Although, given the ridiculous of the situation, I guess this is reality after all.”

“What’s going on, Claire?” Ben said.

Castiel looked around the room before he set his eyes on Claire. “I don’t see any immediate threat,” he said with a slightly questioning intonation.

“Ah, no, sorry.”

He looked at her, and she found herself blushing under his inquisitive stare. Why hadn’t she waited for the morning before calling him? Trying to compose herself-as much as it was possible when wearing a flimsy night gown and sitting in her bed-she used her most even voice to explain: “There’s no threat, but I had another dream, one that I believe was sent to me by Millie, and I think that what she tried to show me was the location of the sword. Did Millie-well, Muriel-knew Balthazar? Enough for him to confide in her?”

“I…” Castiel frowned. “Maybe. I guess. I was out of touch with my brethren for a little while so I imagine it’s not impossible that at some point they got closer to each other. Are you sure the sword is there?”

“Really pretty sure.” Claire felt a renewed surge of excitement. “But we actually have to wait for daytime before we go there,” she added, a bit embarrassed. “I just… I couldn’t wait to tell you.”

She heard the eagerness in her voice like she was listening to another person, a girl waiting for fatherly approbation-but Castiel wasn’t her father, was he, he was only masquerading as Jimmy Novak. The bitterness and horror at learning about her father’s death came back with a vengeance, and she felt something cold and nauseating curl at the pit of her stomach. She managed to school her features into something cool and neutral.

“I’m sorry for calling you up for no reason. You can go now. Just-” They needed to figure some plan of action, didn’t they? “Let’s meet tomorrow at the Winchesters’ place, okay?”

“Okay.”

Castiel left, and Claire fell back on her pillows, looking up at the ceiling.

“Sorry,” she said. There was a silence, and she suddenly worried that the boys were mad at her, the thought tugging at her heart in a most unusual way. Then Jesse said, “Can we go back to sleep now?” with enough good humor that she knew that he had forgiven her for Castiel’s intrusion.

When they met with Castiel at the Winchesters’ the next day, Claire explained her dream to everyone.

“I don’t know,” Dean said, his mouth curving downward. “That sounds like an odd way to hide a fucking divine sword.”

“It does sound like Balthazar, though,” Castiel said pensively. “Very… human.”

“Mm, yeah,” Sam said distractedly. He hadn’t stopped typing away on his laptop since they had gotten there. “Meanwhile I have a few possible locations for the Leviathan: I looked for large bodies of water, testimonies about things hiding in the water, strings of deaths or missing persons. I’ll ask Bobby to make a few calls to his network, try to narrow it down.”

“And what do we do once we have the sword?” Jesse asked. “Just go and-” He made a swinging motion with his hands. “-chop the monster’s head?”

“Sounds like a plan,” Dean said dryly.

“What about Ramiel?” Ben asked. “And his demon lackeys? Even without the Leviathan they can keep trying to take the kids.”

“Ramiel will be a lot easier to deal with than the Leviathan,” Castiel said.

“And I don’t think that he’s really in control of the situation,” Claire said, remembering the voice from her Leviathan dream, the one shouting defiantly at the monster. “I think he’s in way over his head.”

“And we aren’t?” Jesse murmured, but then shrugged and said in a louder voice: “Let’s not waste time, okay?”

Ben and Jesse came with Claire and Castiel, in case Claire was still being tracked and they had more demons problems. Claire didn’t point out that they had handled it okay the last time, because right now she wasn’t very comfortable being alone with Castiel, the awkwardness of the previous night and the day before crystalizing into a ball of dread weighing the bottom of her stomach. Nothing about who they were to each other had ever been easy, but now it seemed simply untenable.

By tacit agreement that didn’t need more than a few exchanged glances, Ben travelled with Castiel and Claire travelled with Jesse. They all popped up in a Chicago back alley, the only witness to their feat being a skinny calico-colored cat that hissed and screeched at their arrival. The tiny creature snaked around her ankles and disappeared behind the corner.

It was probably close to noon East Coast, and the sun was higher in the sky than in California. It was cooler here, the wind carrying an icy edge, but they had planned for it except for Jesse, who never feared the cold. When Claire shivered despite her extra layer of clothing, Jesse wrapped an arm around her, immediately bathing her side in heat.

“California has thinned your blood,” he said teasingly, giving her shoulders a squeeze.

“You have an unfair advantage,” she replied, pretending to push him away.

“Where to now?” Ben said.

He looked strained and unhappy, and Claire understood why when she caught one of the unfriendly glances he was shooting Castiel. He had always acted fairly neutral toward Castiel, mindful of the Winchesters’ complicated friendship with him and of his odd connection to Claire, but not forgetting the part where he had tried to kill Jesse when he was a kid. This was Ben, loyal to a fault even when managing different loyalties started to look like a delicate exercise. Claire was pretty sure that Ben’s own history with Castiel-the fact that he had tinkered with Ben’s memories on Dean’s order-wasn’t a big part of how he felt about the angel. But now, with Claire’s confession from the day before, it looked like the balance was tipping in Castiel’s disfavor. Or maybe Ben was scared Castiel would just go and snatch Claire right under his eyes, even though she’d explained to him that this wasn’t how it worked.

She gently disentangled herself from Jesse. “Follow me,” she said, and walked out of the narrow alley to a larger street with the others trailing behind.

She’d never come here in reality, but her dream had been specific enough that she recognized her surroundings, even though it had been night time when Millie had shown her the place. They walked up the street, Claire looking around for the landmarks Millie had given her: here a colorful mural, covering the red bricks with a palette of blues, from bright azure to pale aquamarine; there, the red and yellow awning of a deli, whiffs of chicken and fresh rolls coming from it. She stopped, burying her hands in the pockets of her hoodie, hunching her shoulders against the cold.

“It’s here,” she murmured.

Here was a narrow bar, squashed between a bakery and a pharmacy. It felt strange to see it for real, looking identical to her dream. They crossed the street and entered the bar with trepidation. Inside, it was dark and stuffy; brick walls, a low ceiling, and even though Claire couldn’t see anyone smoking-in fact, the bar was nearly empty-it looked like there was a faint cloud of dirty smoke hanging at face level.

“Hello,” Claire said to the man behind the bar, who was playing some sort of card game with himself. Mounted on the wall above his head was a flashing TV screen; the TV had been put on mute but showed scantily clad girls dancing to a silent beat.

“Hi,” the man said, palming away the cards with the ease of a magician. He had greasy blond hair brushed back and a skinny, angular face. “What d’you wanna drink?”

“Uh,” she said. She’d thought the man would somehow know what they were here for, and now she was at loss for what to say: should she tell him the truth or make up an excuse?

Castiel took over, fishing out a photo that he slid across the counter to the barman. “Do you know this man? We have come to retrieve something he entrusted to you.”

The barman examined the picture, frowning. “I don’t-” He looked up at Castiel with glowering suspicion. “Are you a cop? Because I’m not-hey, wait a minute. I know you.”

The statement seemed to push Castiel off-kilter. “I… very much doubt it. I have never been here before.”

“No, no, I know you. I know you.”

The man turned his back on them, keeping a finger pointed at Castiel even as he left his bar and walked to a door at the other end of the room, repeating I know you on a loop. Castiel turned to them, a very human expression of helplessness on his face.

“I don’t understand,” he said.

“Well, obviously this man recognized you,” Ben said a little impatiently.

“But I’ve never seen him before,” Castiel insisted, frustration seeping into his voice.

“That’s not what he-”

“Maybe you’ve just forgotten about it,” Jesse said, surprisingly placating. He eyed Ben warily, probably having noticed the new hostility as Claire had, but lacking the context to make sense of it.

“That’s impossible. I do not forget.”

“It’s true,” Claire said.

She remembered the man from Millie’s dream, and didn’t get why he had recognized Castiel, but not Balthazar’s picture. Had Balthazar actually sent Millie to hide the sword? Was it why she knew so much about it?

She was at that point in her musings when the barman came back, carrying an oblong object wrapped in a frayed blanket. Someone pushed the door of the bar and entered, and the barman swiftly hid the package under the counter and went to ask the new comer what he wanted to drink.

“Do you think that’s-” Jesse murmured under his breath, practically without moving his lips.

Claire could feel something pulse slow and warm from under the counter. “I think so, yes.”

The new patron took his drink to a further corner of the room, and the barman directed his attention back to them. He leaned toward them, angling himself away from the rest of the room, and they all shifted closer to heed him.

“I don’t know what this is,” he said, pushing the package over to Castiel. “I just know it’s for you. I didn’t even remember-” His eyes were wide, the whites of them shocking in the semi-darkness of the bar. “Take it and get the hell away. I don’t want to have anything to do with this.”

He gave the package a little shove and Castiel grabbed it, hiding it away in his trench coat. The barman then turned his back on them and proceeded to act as if they weren’t here.

“Well, that was weird,” said Jesse once they were outside, Claire feeling the relatively cooler temperature bite at her cheeks.

“Is it even the sword?” Ben asked, casting a doubtful glance at the bulge under Castiel’s coat. “And why didn’t Balthazar just give you the sword when he gave you the other angelic weapons in the first place? Why the whole charade with the barman?”

“I think that maybe,” Castiel said carefully, “Balthazar didn’t completely trust the person I was when he gave me the other weapons.”

It was only once they had got back to the alley where they had arrived that Castiel started to unwrap the package.

“We’re going to look silly if this isn’t really the sword,” Ben murmured.

But it was-or at least it was a sword, and, judging by the aura of power Claire could feel even more clearly now that it was bared, it was no ordinary sword either.

“What’s this?” Jesse asked, pointing at a symbol drawn on the inside of the blanket.

“It’s Enochian,” Claire said, but she couldn’t remember the meaning before Castiel explained, “It’s what made the barman forget he had it until we came in. Anyone else but a select few come for the sword, and that man would have been unable to remember he even had it. It probably also explains why he couldn’t recognize Balthazar.”

Jesse looked transfixed by the sword. “Who’s gonna wield it?”

He held his hand as if to reach for it but stopped himself before he completed the movement, fingers curling like against intense heat.

“I’m not touching this thing with a ten-foot pole,” Ben said emphatically. “And neither should you-who knows what an artifact made by Heaven could do to you?”

“Oh. Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“I’ll use it,” Castiel said, closing his fingers around the handle. He glanced at Claire; she thought we’ll use it, and it sent her heart racing, adrenaline flooding her body.

“We should leave before someone sees us waving that sword,” she said.

As they made the jump back to the Winchesters’, she could feel the sword, its power throbbing through her body like a second heart.

---

The next day, as they were getting ready to go to the Winchesters’ to decide on a plan, Blake showed up unannounced with a Blue-Ray and a bottle of cheap wine.

“Hel-looo?” he said, his eyes sweeping over the three of them, holding hands in the middle of the living room. “Are you-what the fuck are you doing? Is this some kind of dance?”

“Oh, uh,” Ben said, and snapped his mouth shut. Claire and probably everyone else in the room could hear the cogs in his mind turning, trying to come up with something.

But Blake didn’t let him think. A line appeared between his eyebrows as he frowned, and Claire remembered with some unease that he had seen them materialize from thin air once, in that exact same position.

“Fuck me,” he said. “Don’t tell me you’re-”

Ben broke off from Jesse’s hold and dragged Blake a little further away, giving them a semblance of privacy even though Claire and Jesse could still hear everything.

“What’s going on?” Blake whispered furiously. “We haven’t seen you in days. Jesse missed work! Katie sent me here because she texted you about it and you didn’t text her back. She’s worried sick!”

“Shit,” Ben said. Claire knew enough about Katie to be aware that it took a lot to worry her. “I think my phone is out of battery and I forgot-I’ll call Katie. Jesse will call work and explain himself. I’m sorry.”

“Is it-” Blake shot a look over his shoulder at Claire and Jesse. “Is it like last time? Some sort of, of angel-demon thing?”

Ben didn’t say anything for a moment. “Yes,” he eventually said. “Something like that.”

Blake glared again in their direction, and Claire was shocked at the fierce look in his eyes, even more so when she realized that it was directed at Jesse; she’d never seen Blake act anything but friendly with him.

“Blake, hey.” Ben gave Blake’s shoulder a little shake. “I’ll be fine. And it’s not Jesse’s fault, so you can stop looking at him like he stole your sandwich.”

“It’s my fault,” Claire said, drawing a nonplussed look from Blake. “It is. But you don’t have to worry: I won’t let anything happen to him.”

It was a stupid thing to say, because there was no way she could make that kind of promise, but it had come out without input from her brain and she couldn’t very well take it back. Please, Lord, give me the strength and power to keep my word.

Ben colored and mumbled, both to Blake and to her, “We’ll watch out for each other, okay. Blake, tell Katie not to worry too much, alright?”

“I don’t like this,” Blake grumbled. “Man, I’m glad you’re happy with them, but-”

He trailed off, but his meaning was clear enough. It hurt a little to hear, though she couldn’t blame Blake for thinking that way; Ben was his best and oldest friend, after all, so it was only natural that he would feel protective of him. She was surprised then when Blake turned to them and said, “Sorry, guys. I shouldn’t have-I’m just out of my depth here.”

“It’s fine, mate,” Jesse said, shrugging like he could easily roll the issue off his shoulders. “We all know the feeling.”

Blake eyed him curiously-maybe it hadn’t occurred to him that Claire and Jesse hadn’t been born into this. “Okay,” he said, breathing out the word on a sigh. “I’ll call you tomorrow, and I better get a fucking good story out of this.”

At the Winchesters’, they found that everyone was already there: Jody, who was pouring herself coffee and had a restrained little start at their arrival, almost missing the rim of her mug; Castiel, who stood in a corner of the room like a breathing piece of furniture; and an old bearded hunter with a baseball cap, who introduced himself as Bobby Singer. The man greeted Ben with a friendly pat on the shoulder and offered a hand for Claire to shake.

“Glad to finally meet you,” he said.

He shook hands with Jesse too. Seasoned hunter as he was, he hadn’t startled at their abrupt apparition, but Claire wasn’t inclined to trust the carefully neutral way he looked at Jesse. It seemed to indicate that the jury was still out on his case. Jesse paid it no mind-although he had undoubtedly noticed-and returned the handshake with warmth.

“Hey, Mr. Singer.”

“Don’t be so formal, kid,” Dean said from where he was cleaning guns; his weaponry battled for space with Sam’s computer and half-unfolded maps on the coffee table. He looked like a fish in water, his gestures easy and precise, his whole being brimming with purpose. “You can call him an old geezer.”

Singer shot him a dirty look, which Dean countered with a rakish grin.

“'Bobby' is fine,” Singer said to Jesse.

Jody gave everyone a one-armed hug, holding her coffee mug in the other hand. When she got to Claire, she said, “I hear you’ve been busy.”

“How are the kids?” Claire asked.

“Better than I would have expected. They seem to have gotten over the kidnapping attempt the very next day, and they barely ask for Millie. I wonder if she hasn’t found a way to keep in touch with them.”

“She’s contacted me, so she might have done the same with them. They’re young enough to take it in stride. Where are they now?”

“At a safe place, with a friend of mine. If everything goes well, we’ll reunite them with their grandparents soon.”

If everything goes well; now there was an awfully big ‘if’. Claire’s eyes swept around the room: daylight had started to wane, although not enough yet for a lamp to be turned on, so that it gave the scene a tired, faded air. A few aging hunters and three inexperienced youths; that was the whole head count of their army against Ramiel, the Leviathan and the Heaven knew how many demons Ramiel had on hold. Despite the sword, Claire felt very much like they were running into some heroic last standoff to be obliterated in a blaze of glory. But it was apparently the Winchesters’ specialty, and, if they were still here to talk about it, then maybe all wasn’t lost.

Sam cleared his throat, and everyone heeded this cue to gather around him. Only Dean kept at his task, not even glancing up in his brother’s direction. He had probably heard it all already.

“I think that the Leviathan is hiding in Lake Winnebago, a freshwater lake in eastern Wisconsin,” Sam explained, hunched over the map of Wisconsin he had unrolled on a corner of the coffee table. He pointed at the oblong blue spot that marked the lake. “A string of missing persons over the last few months, a few of them having been spotted here and there after they’ve gone missing-which means that they’ve likely been snatched as demon hosts-with reports of strange noises coming from the lake, a couple of sightings that no one took seriously because the witnesses were drunk teenagers. Many municipal drinking water systems draw directly from the lake, and people have been complaining about the water tasting funny."

"That doesn't seem like much to go on," Jody said.

"Yeah, I guess what really cinches the deal for me is that, even though the reports are officially considered nonsense, no local will get close to the lake anymore, and the animals are staying away too. Lake Winnebago is normally a very busy place: it’s a popular boating area, and there are usually tons of campers and hikers in the parks around it, but lately it's been completely deserted. People there are also big on fishing, but no one has dared taking a boat on the lake for any reason.”

“And we are running straight into it,” Jesse said almost cheerfully. “Isn’t it wonderful.”

Claire had been half-worried that their endeavor would stress him out, but he looked more relaxed than she had seen him in a long time, smiling and quipping like it was going out of fashion. Maybe the prospect of facing a real physical threat, one that wasn’t hidden in the recess of his mind, was actually sort of comforting to him.

“When are we doing this?” Singer grumbled, looking resigned to the folly of the whole thing. “Have a TV show I don’t want to miss.”

"More Tori Spelling?" Dean said.

"Well, ain't you in great form tonight."

“We should act as soon as possible,” Claire said. “Millie has been gone for three days. It won’t be long before-” She swallowed. “-before they either get what they want or get tired of her and kill her.”

Not again, she swore to herself. Everyone was approaching the situation as if killing the Leviathan was the priority, but it wasn’t for Claire. Her priority was to find Millie and get her back safe to her siblings. Everything else took a backseat to that mission.

“The lake’s large, about 215 square miles,” said Sam, “but the western shore has many shallow reefs, so I doubt the Leviathan is able to swim in that part. The eastern part has a drop-off type shoreline. This is where we have a better chance to draw it to us.”

“And how are we going to do that?” Jody said, hands clutching at her mug.

“Ramiel will feel us coming,” Castiel suddenly spoke up. “At least there is no way he will miss the coming of the sword. He’ll have demons with him, but I don’t think there are very many left.”

“They’re for us to handle,” Dean said firmly. “One angel and a few measly demons-piece of cake. You take care of the big fish.”

“I can help you,” Jesse said, and Castiel looked at him as though he was only realizing now that Jesse was in the room. “It’s a very big fish. I can distract it or whatever. I’m very slippery too.”

Castiel frowned, probably sensing there was a joke here that he couldn’t decipher, but after a moment he gave Jesse a small nod of agreement.

They went over the details, but the frightening truth was that they weren’t exactly sure what to expect. Except for the shreds of Claire’s dream, no one had seen a Leviathan in millennia, no even angels. Castiel didn’t mention wanting to use Claire as a vessel again; he seemed to have taken her reaction upon learning her father’s fate as a refusal, and Claire found herself unable to bring the topic up again, especially since they were never alone and she could feel Ben’s eyes on her.

When it was dark, they decided to take off, and Castiel and Jesse needed a couple of trips to get them all to destination. Wisconsin welcomed them with a gust of chilly wind. They’d landed on a thin band of sand, cliffs looming at their backs. They couldn’t see any star but the overcast sky glowed faintly-the moon must have been full, or close to it. The wind blew in all directions, bringing the smell of rain with it, stirring the lake water into waves that crashed at their feet.

“Can you feel anything?” Jesse whispered to Claire.

She focused, trying to feel past the hard pounding of her heart and the metallic taste in her mouth. The burn under her collarbone throbbed dully.

“There’s something…”

“It’s here,” Castiel said.

His eyes were fixed on the rippling surface of the lake, and right when he said it, Claire, getting used to the darkness, thought she saw a large shadow move underwater, further away from the shore and towards of the center of the lake.

“What I want to know,” Dean grumbled, “is where the hell are Ramiel and his cronies.”

He was holding his shotgun ready and was flanked by his brother and Bobby Singer, who kept close to him like a pair of bodyguards.

“Maybe they’re holed up somewhere else,” Ben said. “Even if Ramiel and the Leviathan are in some sort of partnership, I guess we can’t blame the guy for wanting to keep away as much as…”

Claire didn’t hear the rest of Ben’s sentence, overwhelmed as she was by the wash of warmth announcing the arrival of an angel.

“What are you doing here!” Ramiel yelled at them.

He was still wearing Ben’s former neighbor Mr. Bennet, and seemed to glow brighter than before to Claire’s angel senses-she pushed back nausea at the thought of where this new power came from-but he also looked unhinged and unkempt. All the angels Claire had ever seen in their vessels had always looked in control of their appearance, so something was obviously wrong here. Was it because of the extra grace he had absorbed, or the strain of working with the Leviathan? Whatever it was, Ramiel went on scolding them like they were actors straying off the script.

“Are you insane? What if he sees you? Get out of here! Now, you lowly, stupid-”

“Are you talking about the Leviathan?” Castiel asked.

Ramiel startled at the sound of his voice, like he hadn’t seen him there, and the expression of panic on his face morphed into disdain. “Castiel,” he said, investing the name with as much distaste as two syllables could contain. “Still slaving for those humans, I see.”

“I trust it will serve me better than allying myself with a Leviathan,” Castiel replied. “What are you doing, Ramiel? Are you still trying to open Lucifer’s cage?”

Ramiel’s eyes wavered and settled on Jesse. “Don’t think about it,” Jesse said, glowering.

Ramiel’s haughty expression hardened. “I have moved on to bigger things, cambion. You can keep your powers to yourself, for all the good they do you.” He smirked cruelly, and Jesse stiffened. “No, I aim for bigger things. If Lucifer remains out of reach in his Cage, then I will-”

He was interrupted by Dean’s sudden bark of laughter. “Sorry, pal,” he said to Ramiel’s offended expression. “It’s just that it sounded like you were saying you wanted to replace Lucifer, and, well. I don’t want to burst your bubble, but you can gobble as much grace as you want, I really don’t think you have the shoulders for the job.”

Ramiel spluttered with indignation, but, before he could form a sentence, Sam said, “I have known Lucifer rather intimately, and I have to agree with my brother here.”

Claire had a sudden sense of pity for Ramiel at that moment: he looked puny and breakable despite the feel of borrowed grace she could feel churning inside him.

“Is that what he promised you?” she asked him gently. “The Leviathan. He told you that, if you gathered enough grace, you would become as powerful as Lucifer? What’s in it for him, then?”

She must have struck a sensitive chord, because Ramiel uttered an inarticulate cry and dashed at her. She barely had the time to pull out the angel sword Castiel had given her a year ago and block his arm with it. Trying to fend him off, she noticed he was reaching for a spot under her left breast, right where the fragment of Castiel’s grace lingered behind her ribs. It fueled her body with adrenaline and she fought harder, throwing him off her.

Around them a battle erupted as a dozen of demons had appeared and started fighting the hunters and Castiel. Gunshots broke out, light flashed whenever Castiel forcibly exorcized the demons, and, from the corner of her eye, Claire saw Jesse extract demon smoke out of a host with what looked like his bare hands. She couldn’t have said how long she wrestled with Ramiel, but her arms were aching and sweat was running down her back. Their struggles led them closer to the water and there, Claire caught Ramiel glancing worriedly at the lake.

“What is it, Ramiel?” Claire called brazenly, her chest heaving from exertion. She had her back to the narrow beach and the rest of the battle, and she thought she heard a strangled cry that sounded like Ben but forced herself not to look. “Are you scared? In over your head, are you? If you had known what you were getting into-”

“Shut your filthy mouth,” Ramiel snarled and jumped her again, catching her shoulders and trying to force her down. “I have no lesson to receive from an angel reject!” he spat to her face.

“Where’s Millie?” she shot back. “What did you do with her?”

He didn’t have the time to reply; all of a sudden, a roar came from the lake, a rush like the ocean in a storm. Battle sounds quieted behind her and Ramiel released Claire with an undignified squeak. Claire, strangely enough, felt no fear as she watched a wave of water surging up. The Leviathan emerged in its center, an enormous indistinct mass cascading with water.

The demons scurried away, some of them popping out of sight, and Claire turned back and ran to the rest of her group, who had instinctively clustered together. Ramiel was the only one brave or crazy enough to get closer to the shore and talk to the monster: “I have it under control! You can go back to the bottom of the lake!”

I feel grace.

“Yes, that’s-an old acquaintance. I’m taking care of it!”

What about the child?

“She hasn’t-She’s close to yielding! You’ll have your share of grace soon, I promise.”

They shared the grace with each other, then-that was what the Leviathan got out of their deal. That explained how he could have grown from whatever size he’d been when he’d escaped Purgatory to the giant he was now. Claire’s chest seized at Ramiel’s assurance that Millie was ‘close to yielding.’

The monster shifted and the water heaved with its movement.

Cambion.

Claire swirled around to look at Jesse, standing rigidly with his eyes on the Leviathan, the only one of them empty-handed. But not harmless: he didn’t look afraid at all, unlike Ben, who had moved protectively to his side, the demon-killing knife Dean had given him a year ago drawn out.

“Bring it on, fishguy,” Jesse said softly, cracking his knuckles in a ridiculous tough-guy gesture that didn’t really fit him.

“Jess,” Ben said warningly, gripping Jesse’s arm with his knife hand. He had his other hand pressed against his side as though it hurt, and Claire moved closer, trying to figure if he was injured and how badly. "What is it with you and bad guys who want to snack on you?" he went on more lightly.

"I don't know," Jesse said. "I must be particularly tasty."

"Man, this is getting annoying. Good thing you’re so talented in bed." His voice was trembling a little.

“Thanks, I guess.”

Oddly enough, the one person most upset by the attention paid by the Leviathan to Jesse was Ramiel himself, who shot him an alarmed look before saying, “Oh, you don’t want him. He’s probably unpalatable. Too much demon in him-too much human.”

Too much power, Claire understood. If the Leviathan fed on Jesse he would probably become unstoppable, and that was the kind of power Ramiel couldn’t share with the creature.

Ramiel trotted up to the very edge of the lake, then started to walk into the water, raising his hands in a gesture of submission or appeasement, still talking to the Leviathan. “I’ll get you Muriel’s grace, and Castiel’s grace, and as much grace as we can share. But the cambion’s power is nasty.”

“Hey!” Jesse protested, and it was because Claire was busy giving him a faint smile that she missed what happened next. She only knew that water splattered and Ramiel screamed, and, when everything settled back, he was gone from the shore and there was only one of his shoes left floating on the surface.

“Did he-” Singer started, pointing his shotgun at the shoe like he expected Ramiel to spring out of it.

“Where’s the Leviathan?” Jody asked, looking everywhere but at the spot where Ramiel had disappeared. “Where’s Millie? If Ramiel was the only one to know where she was-”

The end of a tail, y-shaped like a whale’s, rose from the water and whipped at its surface. Water rained on the group and then the earth quaked, sending all of them tumbling to the ground.

Cambion.

The word rattled Claire to the bone and she rose up on her hands and knees, but Jesse was already standing and shouting back to the Leviathan, fists clenched to his sides. “It’s me you want? Then come and get me! I’m not bloody scared of you!”

“Are you crazy?!”

Claire scrambled to her feet, feeling a pang of terror so sharp that it was like she had never felt real fear before. She rushed to him and clasped his arm, and felt Ben bump into her back, babbling questions and exclamations that echoed Claire’s sentiment: “What are you doing? Are you trying to prove something? No, don’t answer that. You-”

Jesse twisted around to face them, the three of them pressed against each other like touching as much as they could would be enough to alleviate the fear.

“I’ll distract him,” Jesse whispered hurriedly. “Please, I promise I have it under control.”

“We know you do, Jesse,” Claire said. “It’s just that-”

“That thing’s a fucking sea monster!” Ben finished for her.

“Thanks, I’ve noticed. I can do this. I need to do this.” The urgency in his voice cut right through Claire. “I’ll draw his attention while Castiel-”

He trailed off, looking over their shoulders to where Castiel probably was standing. Claire refused to check. She felt Jesse squeeze her hand and then he was gone, leaving her cold with the absence of his body heat.

“What the ever-loving fuck is that kid doing?”

It was Dean’s voice, and Claire remembered at once that they weren’t alone. The quartet of hunters seemed not to know what to do, deprived as they were of enemies they could fight now that the demons had all run away. But Claire’s eyes were drawn to Castiel, who held the sword like he was about to launch himself into battle. The blade of the weapon shone with a light that was diffuse and ethereal like the glow of the moon. He looked battle-hungry, miles away from the family man her father had been and closer to a creature made for war.

“Cas?” Dean said.

They were all startled by a howl from the Leviathan, and, when Claire looked over to the lake, she saw the sea monster writhe and toss back and forth-and at the top of its skull was a small figure, hunched over as if it couldn’t find enough stability to stand up. Jesse looked like a fly the Leviathan could squash without a thought.

“Castiel!” Claire called, stopping him in his tracks.

He looked at her and tipped his head to the side in a gesture so reminiscent of her father that she could have cried.

“Yes,” she said. Her mouth was dry. “I say ‘yes’.”

Ben was still close enough to her to touch and she expected him to protest, to try to convince her not to do it or to extract a promise to come back. But she merely felt his fingers brush the inside of her wrist; all his attention was on Jesse fighting the Leviathan, his jaw set and lips pressed in a thin line.

“He’ll be fine,” she assured him. “We’ll take care of it.”

“I can’t lose either of you.”

“You won’t.”

Claire’s eyes met Castiel’s again.

“Everybody should shield their eyes,” he said, and then handed the sword out to Claire. It was heavier than she’d expected and she almost lost her grip on it, the tip dipping to the ground.

“Castiel.” Sam’s tense voice. “Are you really going to-”

But Claire wasn’t listening anymore, her focus entirely on Castiel. A halo appeared around his body, accompanied by the searing brilliance of his wings. The light from his halo increased progressively until all she could see was white, and she had to close her eyes before they burned in their sockets. With her eyes shut, she could feel the warmth more acutely, first as the comfort of a blanket around her shoulders, then as heat consuming her from the inside out. It was painfully familiar, something that she’d thought she would never get to feel again.

Here

Memories old as the beginning of time flipped in front of her eyes: a chorus of angels singing together, a bouquet of luminescence flashing with music, challenging the boundary between light and sound; the touch of God on the Garden, His presence suffusing the air and blessing it; mankind at its inception, fighting and scavenging and holding onto lives as brief as the blink of an eye with fascinating fervor.

We

The restriction of a vessel for the first time, making everything flatter and slower. Painful.

Are

Confusion and grief. I am not your father. Duty and purpose. I don’t serve man, and I certainly don’t serve you. Betrayal and loss. Yes, I’ll always have you. Balthazar. The memories swirled and colluded and merged, belonging to neither of them in particular and both of them interchangeably.

Again

Tall as the highest mountain. Vast as the widest ocean. Soaring through the air, the sky as the limit. Holding the world in the palm of a hand-what hand?-and wanting nothing more than to preserve it, even at the highest cost.

Welcome back

When they opened their eyes, there was the world, looking radically changed to the small part of them that was still Claire: new shadows and new sources of light, and objects that seemed to have acquired a couple of additional dimensions.

Ready?

The sword felt like a flash of lightening in their hand, radiant and alive.

Yes. Let’s do this.

The world lurched to the side, and a fraction of second later they were floating high over the lake and the struggling monster. Jesse was a tiny spot clinging to the Leviathan. Then they got closer, and, where the young man Claire knew should have been they saw a human-shaped black hole, tendrils of dark smoke coiling at the edges.

Is this how you see him all the time?

Yes.

It’s not all he is.

I know.

They landed at Jesse’s side. Without the ability to look at his face, his voice echoed in an oddly disembodied way.

“Claire?”

“We’ll take over.”

“Castiel?”

“Thank you.” Dismissive.

“No, you don’t-Let’s work together. I can-”

“We’ll take care of it.”

“Is she in there? Can she hear me? Claire! It’s Jesse! Try to convince this butt-headed angel that I can help!”

Castiel, let him.

Why?

Why not? Are you scared of him?

“We are not scared of anything,” said aloud.

“Then you’re an idiot!” shouted Jesse, misunderstanding the words.

The monster tried to shake them off and they fell to their knees. Jesse was sent sliding down the Leviathan’s flank, but before they could reach and try to catch him, he blinked out of sight, then reappeared standing at the top of the Leviathan’s head.

“Oh no, you don’t!” Jesse yelled, and stomped with his foot on the creature’s thick leathery skin.

It sent a schockwave that they felt to their fingertips, and the Leviathan stopped thrashing for a moment, becoming still as a huge rock.

He’s almost as powerful as you. Maybe more, if he let himself go all the way. You are scared of him.

As well I should.

But that’s why we have to let him help.

Before they could reach a decision, the Leviathan moved again, diving, and suddenly water crashed over them.

“Claire!”

They caught Jesse’s hand and it felt like flames were licking their fingers and searing the marrow of their human bones, trying to eat away at the core of their angelic grace. They flew away and landed back on the beach. The humans flocked over to them, all talking at the same time, pale shadows except for Dean, who shone brighter than the rest, and Sam, who oozed the same sort of darkness as Jesse, albeit with far less intensity.

“I’ll keep it still,” Jesse said, ignoring everyone. “I’ll do what I just did again, keep it subdued for a moment-and you, you get ready to strike with that sword of yours. Okay?”

“Okay,” they said.

“Cas!” Dean said forcefully, probably unhappy about being overlooked. “That thing’s thrashing around caused a few rock slides here. We have no way to get out of this beach without you or the kid. So-”

“I promise we’ll be swift.”

“We better go now,” Jesse said, scrutinizing the surface of the lake where the Leviathan had disappeared. “I’m gonna draw it out-”

“Wait!” Ben snatched Jesse by the wrist and yanked him in for a kiss. “There,” he said when he let go, sounding choked out. “Now go get 'em, tiger.”

He then turned to them, grabbing Claire’s face between his hands. “You let her go when it’s done. You hear me, you asshole?”

“I hear you.”

Jesse plunged into the lake head first, and Claire’s human heart leapt in her chest. For a long moment, nothing seemed to happen. Rain started to sprinkle, slowly dampening Claire’s clothing.

“Is he-” said Jody, but at that moment the Leviathan shot out of the water, his entire whale-like body jumping high over the water like a monstrous flying fish. It was hard to see if Jesse was anywhere on it until they heard his voice boom unnaturally loud, “Now!”

They flew over to the monster, aiming for its head, and managed to land between its eyes. One of the Leviathan’s pupils moved to follow their arrival but the monster didn’t flail, fully under Jesse’s power for the moment. Grabbing the divine sword with both hands, they raised it over their head. The eye blinked. They drove the sword inside just as it opened again.

A roar like nothing human or animal on Earth echoed, loud enough to crack the sky. They crashed down into the lake, and, before they could let go of the sword, they were swallowed by the water.