Carry on my Wayward Daughter: A Supernatural FanFic

Chapter Six: Father-Figure & Wayward Daughter

…2014…

Coming to reality again was like emerging from the bottom of the ocean. I remember going to the beach for the first time when I was 4 years old. My mother and Uncle Jimmy stood a safe distance away from the sea. I remember thinking how out of place they looked in the way they dressed – my mother in black skinny jeans and heals; Jimmy in a dress shirt and slacks. I remember the way the salt tasted on my lips and the feeling of the sand under my toes. I remember the way the waves almost knocked over my small body. I remember Uncle Jimmy holding my hand as my mother got a tattoo on the pier. I remember the way all three of us squeezed into the photo both and took a series of four pictures. It was the first and last time I’d ever been to the beach.

My eyes open and everything comes flooding back: the fight with my mother, Paula with black eyes, the blinding white light coming from Uncle Jimmy’s palms, holding Paula’s dead hand as I looked into the eyes of her murderer, two fingers placed on my forehead, and then nothing. My eyes focus on Jimmy first. He looks the same as he did in the photo booth strip; sad in the eyes, but a smiling pulling at his mouth. It was how he always looked at me. “Cassidy –” He starts.

“She was my best friend.” I say closing my eyes, not bearing to look at him any longer.

“She was a demon.” He says matter-of-factly. 

“Great.” I deadpan, “You’ve been snorting God knows what with Mom.”

“What?” Now it’s his turn to be confused. “Addison –”

“She’s lost it this time. And this time it was just me. No magical Uncle to save me. Just a murderer,” I open my eyes and see the hurt in his.

“Cassidy –” He tries again, but I sit straight up (a regrettable decision as the world begins to spin) and activate all my anger that had been building up over the past day or two.

“Listen you son of a bitch –” This time I break off and slap him, because he starts laughing. “What!”

“You just remind me of your father – a lot actually. At first I thought it was just the eyes, but now I realize it’s the personality too.” He smirks again, “I suppose it’s in the Winchester blood.”

“Walker. It’s Cassidy Walker. I’ve never met a Winchester before in my life.” My cheeks flush with anger and embarrassment. I’ve never been called a Winchester before and it stirs up unrecognizable feelings in my gut. 

“Huh. That’s interesting considering your mother was one.” His smile fades, but his eyes are still bright as if remembering a good memory.

“They were married?” This is news to me.

“He never intended to leave you. He wanted me to tell that to you when he sent me just now.” He turns around to grab some new clean, un-ripped clothes for me.

“What do you mean he sent you, Jimmy?” I say and grab the clothes from him. They don’t look like they’ll fit like they’re supposed to, even though I’ve seen my mother wear them in pictures in frames that she keeps in drawers; black skinny (or baggy for me) jeans and an (oversized) button-up flannel. 

His face contorts in pain, “My name isn’t Jimmy. I’m not even your uncle. I have no relation to your mother.”

Another building block falls down. “More lies? Wow. How am I not surprised?” The sarcasm masks my hurt, but not very well. “Take me home.”

“My name is Castiel. I am –” My father’s words fill my head:  Just ask my friend, Cas. The other Cas; Castiel.

“Take me home.” I plead again. “Take me home to my mother.”

“I can’t.” He flicks his eyes away; looking at everything else but me. 

“Why not!” God I sound like a child throwing a tantrum.

“Your friend, Paula was it? She was possessed by a demon, and your mother has been too.” His face hardens in stone, and mine follows suit.

“Stow the crazy. Why are you kidnapping me?” I cross my arms.

“You saw Paula’s eyes. Black. She was a demon Cassidy. There’s no other explanation. I’m sorry.” Jimmy is now getting extremely impatient with me. He keeps nervously checking his watch.

“One possessed my mom?” I finally ask the question I think he wants to hear.

“Yes. A demon named Theresa is hunting down all those with Winchester blood. She herself possessed Addison thinking that you’d come back.” His voice is a mixture of uncertainty and confidence.

“Why does she want me? Or any Winchester for that matter?” A feeling of dread washes over my body. I’m not sure I want to know the answer.

“I don’t know, but in order to keep you safe we have to go to a safe house.” Jimmy, I mean Castiel says. 

“Long overdue family retreat?” I say with faux enthusiasm.

“Too long” He smirks and motions for me to change as he leaves the room.

I slip into the clothes rather quickly, but then I stand alone in the empty room for a while. Realization hits me like a wave against my four-year-old body. I’m finally going to see my father. I become overwhelmed with many conflicting feelings: sadness, anger, excitement. I do what any semi-rational person would do at the end of this uncontrollable 24 hours. I cry.

My sobs must echo out into the hall, because soon Castiel enters the room and wraps me in a hug. It’s awkward to say the least. He’s not exactly sure how to comfort me and I’m not exactly sure how to control my tears. We stay like that for a while; father figure and wayward daughter together again.

Once I stop crying he asks the question that threatens to set me off again, “Are you ready to see your father?”

“Ah, but isn’t the question ‘Is he ready to see me?’” My voice never cracks.