(Gragnis you need to find Claire, she is in trouble)
You looked up from the list of demon names in front of you, your eyes subconsciously fixing on the king of Hell as you listened to the prayer.
(She is going to do something very stupid)
“What are you looking at?” Crowley shot at you after he noticed you stare. “You should be looking at those names, there, since you were so keen on taking a break long enough to let twelve demons get out within three hours.”
(Gragnis help)
Castiel’s voice was pleading in your mind, the vulnerability in his begging enough to take your mind from the list in front of you, entirely. Crowley seemed to notice your sudden shift in attention, because he snapped a finger, making sure that it was in your line of sight, and let out a loud “Hey!” in an attempt to refocus your concentration. That, of course, did not work, and within a second you found yourself flying to Claire—who was apparently in a convenience store.
There were only three people in the building at that point: the person behind the desk, a person checking out, and a teenager wearing a dark hoodie, the hood of which was pulled up to cover her head. You immediately recognized the shape of the body as being that which belonged to Claire Novak, and when you saw that she was holding something in her pocket that had the same outline as a gun, you were quick to walk up to her. Reaching a hand out and grabbing on to her upper arm, you spun the girl around and smiled.
“You need money, Love?” You asked her, your eyes dropping from her startled expression to the gun that she was concealing in her pocket. “You could have just asked instead of committing a felony.”
Claire tried to twitch her arm from your grasp but you were too strong for her, electing, instead, to pull her out of the store after giving a small, everything-is-okay wave to the apparently concerned person behind the desk. Much to your surprise, at the exact time that Claire’s foot hit the ground outside of the convenience store, a 1967 Impala squealed into the parking lot and stopped a few feet in front of you.
Castiel jumped from the backseat and ran toward you and Claire, his eyes wide as he leaned down to look her in the eyes. He did a quick, surprisingly human search of Claire, putting his hands on each of her cheeks and moving her head from one side to the other while he hunted for any evident harm that had been done to her. Claire fought him, slapping at the angel until he finally backed away.
“What were you thinking?” He asked, ready to go on with a parental rant, but Claire had other ideas.
“Screw you.” She yelled at the angel before looking at the two Winchesters, who were now standing on either side of Castiel. When Dean raised his arms and told the teen to calm down, she scoffed. “Eat me, Hasselhoff.”
She turned to leave but you grabbed her by the arm, bringing her back to the circle of parental guidance while Sam said “Claire, hold on a second. Look, I’m—“
“Sam.” Claire snapped back at him, then nodded to the older Winchester. “Dean. We’ve met, remember?” She jerked her arm away from you and you released her slowly, a silent reminder that if she tried to run again, you were only going to be a few steps behind her.
“Claire, were you going to…” Castiel looked at you, his eyes begging a question that you answered with a simple nod. He turned back to the girl. “Were you going to rob that convenience store?”
“So what if I was?”
“That’s wrong, Claire.” Castiel responded, making Claire laugh a sick, humorless laugh that seemed to echo off every surface within a hundred-foot radius.
YOU ARE READING
Hell's Greatest Weapon
FanfictionAfter centuries of incessant war, Reader finally managed to settle down into a normal human life; she attended medical school, bought a house, made friends that didn't make a habit of killing everything that moved. She was out of the life, out of H...
