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Independent (SPN, Claire Novak)


castiel_angel

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Hello everybody! This is a fic for @sneezelover32

I am excited to do this fic because Claire Novak is not an extremely recognized character on the show, so let’s change that:happysmiley:

Hope you enjoy!

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Claire Novak had been living on her own since she was young. She learned how to live for herself, provide for herself, and survive herself. When she woke up that morning with an ache in her body and pain in her head she knew she was on her own. But what was so different about that? Day in, day out, one at a time, all in search for her parents who had forgotten her. She knew her mother was out there. Somewhere and somehow she’s out there, waiting for the day to see her face. And Jimmy? Well, after Castiel took his vessel her hopes of having a once faithful dad were lost. Why did she care though? After all these years of living in her solemn reckless abandon her mind still searched for a way out. She often just drank away the pain. Her past was gone and this was her future. Alone, drunk, abandoned, unwanted. There was always the Winchester’s though. They were the closest thing she’d ever really had to family, and they’d always be there when she’d find herself slip up. But why did they matter? She was a young, independant woman who could deal with things on her own. Nothing could bring what she once had back. 

She set down another empty glass and sighed. Drinking was the only way to free her mind of the jail it was locked in. The aching in her head spread with each impulse, and her vision felt a little hazed around the edges. “Most likely the drinking,” she thought. She pulled out her phone to call for a ride home. Not that she would consider herself responsible, but she didn’t exactly have any car and the heavy rain outside was an unappealing option. As she scrolled through her contacts she got caught off guard with the impending tickle in her nose. huh’itsch! h’itschoo! She wiped at her nose unconsciously and paused as she came across Dean’s number. It was kind of late, but he was the only one she knew would probably answer. Claire muffled a few coughs as the phone rang. “Hello? Claire?” The gruff voice on the other line asked. “Hey Dean, could you pick me up from the bar? I don’t have any way home and I’m kind of well....drunk.” She said a bit hesitantly. “Yeah, alright. We’ll be there in a bit,” Dean said. “thanks,” Claire said hanging up as soon as possible. The tickle in her nose was building and she didn’t want the Winchester’s to know she was sick. huh’itsch! h’eshuu! huh’tschoo! Her sneezes were soft, but forceful, taking up about as much energy as she had left. She was feeling pretty dizzy and was running merely off of alcohol and fatigue. She found herself wrap her jacket around her frame tighter as her body racked with shivers. She really hoped Dean would get here soon. She got down yet another shot of whatever sort of drink she ordered. Who knew anymore. Maybe this was all a dream. Yeah, that’s it. The bar doesn’t exist. The alcohol doesn’t exist. She doesn’t exist. Dean? Her vision darkened around the edges and soon her panic was at cease. Nothing.

The next thing she knew she was laying on the couch in some sort of motel. She blinked a few times and slowly sat up, groaning at how much effort it took. If she thought her head hurt before, than she was wrong. She was cold, tired, and confused. “How’d I get here?” She asked, not even sure if she would get an answer. “You sorta kinda called me to pick ya up, and you sorta kinda passed out so I sorta kinda brought you here.” The voice said. The figure came into view and she blinked a few times to focus. “Dean?” She asked. “Yep, it’s me tiger,” he asked, coming over to rest a hand on her forehead. As much as she wanted to deny any weaknesses she found herself leaning into the cool touch. “Your burning up!” Dean said, sounding more like a mother and less like the hellbent hunter she knew. Instead of replying she found herself unable to speak as the hitching in her breath overtook any sort of reply she had. huh’itshoo! h’etsch! huh’tschoo! She sniffed and wiped her nose against her sleeve. “Bless ‘ya,” Dean said tossing her the box of tissues. She rolled her eyes but took one none the less. Sam walked in carrying a stack of new books for their new case. “Oh heya Claire,” he said, setting the books down on the table. “Hey,” she replied back weakly, standing up. Dean pushed her back down by the shoulders. “And just where do you think your going?” Dean asked. “Look Dean, I appreciate everything you’be done for me but I’m leaving.” Claire said with more confidence than she felt. “Claire, you wouldn’t last a day out there, not in your condition,” Dean said crossing is arms. “And what makes you say that,” she started. huh’itschoo! h’eshuu! h’tsch! “Um, well that.” Dean said. “Dean I lived alone my whole life! I know how to deal with a petty cold,” she said with a bit more bite then she intended. “I can’t let you go out there and drink like that. Not on my watch.” Claire realizing she lost the battle sat back down with crossed arms. “Fine, I’ll stay. But if you get too mother-hen I’m out,” she said. 

She shivered a little and wrapped her jacket tighter around her. Dean came back with medicine and a thermometer. “Open up,” he said. Claire rolled her eyes and grabbed the thermometer from him and stuck it in her mouth. After a few seconds her eyes went wide. Her nose was overwhelmed with the familiar tickle once again. She looked over to Dean who seemed to get the idea. “Hang in there, just a few more seconds.” Her eyelids fluttered shut as Dean removed the thermometer right after the beep. h’tschoo! huh’itsch! ‘etschoo! huh’ishoo! She groaned and flopped back against the couch. “101.7,” he read. Sam came in with a few pills and a glass of water. She downed them and sighed. This was a real set back on her journey to find her mom. Dean got out a blanket and draped it over her body. As much as she hated to admit it, the fuzzy blanket was super soft and comfy. It reminded her of when her mom hugged her right before bed. Warm and fuzzy. A single tear rolled down her cheek. Life without her mom hasn’t been easy and she just wanted it all to be over. Everything. Monsters. Jimmy. Being alone. Why couldn’t life be like a Hallmark movie. Perfect in every way. Instead it had to be like the Walking Dead. 

“How about some tea?” Sam asked from his spot at the table. Claire, half asleep, just mumbled an incoherent “sure” so Sam took it as a yes. Dean propped up his feet and relaxed in a chair, finally having a reason to do nothing. Damn it felt good to just do nothing. Claire on the other hand found herself prepping for another bout of sneezing. huh’eshoo! h’tschuu! huh’itsch! “Bless ‘ya,” Dean says. Claire just mumbles a “thanks” and pulls the soft blanket around her. She didn’t really remember what had happened after that because she went into a fitful sleep. When Sam came back with the stewing herbal drink he smiled. Setting the glass down on the table, he joined Dean in another chair. “Patient zero down,” Dean said with a smile. “Mission Impossible accomplished,” Sam said with a tired sigh. “What was with that fighting earlier?” Sam asked while looking at an enochian book. “Teenagers,” he said with a sigh. Sam laughed. “You think she’ll pull through?” Sam asked. “I know she’ll pull through. She’s a strong independent woman after all,” Dean said, half mocking half speaking the truth. Whether he liked it or not, Claire was pretty badass herself and knew a thing or too about surviving. “Yeah, she’ll pull through.”

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fin:heart: hope you enjoyed @sneezelover32

 

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8 hours ago, castiel_angel said:

stewing

Yeah um sorry, this was supposed to be steaming😂😬sorry about that

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This was literally everything I could’ve imagined and more! Thank you so much for writing this!!

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19 minutes ago, sneezelover32 said:

This was literally everything I could’ve imagined and more! Thank you so much for writing this!!

No problem! I actually really enjoyed writing Claire-so glad you enjoyed

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