[The Things We Left Behind]
Dean was kneeling in a room, covered in blood. Decimated bodies littered the ground around him. A blade was in his hand as he glanced around at the carnage surrounding him. His expression was a mix of shock, sorrow, and acceptance.
Dean woke with a start, gasping as he sat up in bed. He looked around, breathing hard. He realized he was in his bedroom at the bunker. He looked down at the Mark of Cain on his arm.
YOUTH TRANSITION CENTER - PONTIAC, ILLINOIS
A teenage girl with curly blonde hair and lots of eye makeup was brought through the doors by a policeman holding her arm.
"Get your hands off me, perv." The girl retorted. "I'll sue your ass."
The policeman handed her bag off, then led her further down the hall. They stopped in front of a woman, Sandy.
"What was it this time?" Sandy asked.
"Shoplifting." The policeman replied. "The guy ain't looking to press charges, but I figured you'd want her back."
"That's forty-eight hours in isolation."
"Oh. Scary." The girl commented.
The girl sighed as the policeman led her down to a room, then pushed her inside. Sandy stood at the door, watching as the girl walked over and kicked the bed before walking over and punching the wall.
An orderly walked up beside Sandy and asked, "Who is this girl?"
"One of our frequent flyers. Claire Novak."
The next morning, Claire was sitting on the floor when the orderly opened the door. "Novak. You got a visitor."
"Really?" Claire questioned, surprised.
"Your father's here to see you."
Claire looked shocked, then her breath caught before Cas walked through the door. When she saw him, a memory stirred.
"Daddy?" Young Claire asked.
"I am not your father." Cas replied.
Claire managed a small smile as Cas said, "Hello, Claire. It's been a long time."
Claire stood up, never taking her eyes off of Cas, who turned to the orderly. "Can we have a moment?"
"I'll be outside." The orderly answered, closing and locking the door behind them.
Cas stepped towards Claire. "I'm not your father."
The hope dissipated from Claire's eyes. "Right. "I'm not your father." Those are the first words you ever said to me, remember?"
"I remember everything."
"So do I, Castiel. My dad...Is he still in there?"
"No. The human soul, it can only occupy a body while it retains a certain...structural integrity, and this vessel, it was...It was ripped apart on a subatomic level by an archangel."
"Well, then how are you...?"
"I was reassembled. Your father is in Heaven."
"Well. Yay for him. Anyway, good talk. You can get the hell out of my life now."
"Claire--"
"What? Huh? What? You took everything from me. What do you want now?"
"Nothing, I just--I came here to help you."
YOU ARE READING
Pretty, Reckless, Winchester
Mystery / ThrillerShe's survived demons, death, and all sorts of creatures that haunt the night. She's pretty sure she's seen it all... or has she? She found love. She protects those who can't protect themselves. She saves people, hunts things, the family business...
