Chapter Text
Castiel smiles softly to himself as Claire walks to the bathroom, the evening is going well. He had been afraid that Claire would never allow him into her life, allow him to help her, but she had agreed to staying together surprisingly easily. As he waits for her to return, Castiel spends several minutes musing on what exactly she meant when she told him to get "stuff for the road" before recalling how Dean often purchased unhealthy snacks and a magazine when embarking on his own road trips. Castiel selects some items that seem appropriate, choosing a magazine quite different from what Dean would have bought, and proceeds to the cash register. It is only when he reaches inside of his coat for his wallet that he realizes things haven't been going as well as he thought. He rushes out of the restaurant just in time to see Claire get into an unknown silver vehicle and drive away. Castiel stands in place, confused by the teenager's behaviour. She was acting as though she was running away from something, but surely, she must understand that Castiel intended her no harm. Lately, he has often heard Sam complain about the moodiness of teenagers, perhaps this is a manifestation of that?
Castiel reaches for his cellphone and selects the first number from his contact list. He hears the phone on the other end ring a few times before someone picks up.
"Hey Cas, what's up?" Dean asks.
"I need your help with something."
"Really? Does that mean that you aren't siding with Sam, on this whole "you need to stay out of trouble right now" thing?"
"Well, this isn't exactly a hunt" Castiel prefaces. "In fact, I think it might be something you're currently uniquely qualified for."
***
Claire walks into the gas station convenience store, a black hoodie pulled up over her blonde hair. She can do this, she knows she can. Randy needs her, and he has given her so much, taken her in when she ran from the group home, and given her a home and a family. Now it was all being threatened by people looking to collect on Randy's debts. They needed money, and fast. Her new family was counting on her to get this done.
Still, her fingers shake as she pulls out the gun, checking that it's loaded properly for the hundredth time, psyching herself up for the next step. Finally, forcing her feet to move she looks up at the sales counter and steps forward with resolve. That resolve dies as suddenly as it came when she accidentally makes eye contact with a boy who a moment before had seemed engrossed by the store's selection of jerky. He is her age, maybe a little younger, and he stares at her, eyes filled with shock.
Under the boy's gaze, Claire suddenly realizes how she must look, wearing all black and carrying a gun, she probably looks unhinged enough to start shooting any second. Claire and the boy stare at each other for a long moment. His surprise fades into something more questioning and if Claire didn't know better she would almost think that he was daring her to go through with it. But she doesn't. Barely realizing what she's doing she takes a step backwards. This single movement is enough to break her out of her panicked indecision and soon she is running out of the store, the bell jingling behind her.
Claire sits on the curb outside the store, slumped over with her head in her lap. After everything Randy has done for her, she can't even bring herself to do this one thing for him. She only gets more frustrated with herself as she feels tears well up in her eyes, she isn't a child, she can do this. Steeling herself to get up and go back in, she stops as she hears the sound of shuffling sneaker-clad feet as someone sits down beside her on the curb.
"Hey, you okay?"
She looks up to see the boy from the store looking at her with a concern, apparently now completely unafraid of her. She blinks at him, trying to clear the tears from her eyes. "Don't you think you should be staying away from the crazy lady with the gun?"
He grunts in amusement. "Well you don't seem all that crazy to me, just surprised me is all, and it ain't like I never stole anything from a Gas'N'Sip before" he says pulling a stolen pack of Twizzlers out of his pocket as evidence, "never used a gun for it though."
"Yeah, well, desperate times" she says weakly.
"Must be pretty desperate to risk a record like that. Even if you're underage, the cops don't just let something like armed robbery go." He rips open the package and offers her a Twizzler.
"Yeah" Claire mumbles taking one and biting off the end. They sit together for a minute, chewing on stolen candy, neither one of them speaking, until a new idea comes to her. Even if she hasn't got the money, she has the gun, maybe she can still help Randy. "I've go to go" she says.
"Okay" the boy shrugs, "well it was nice talking with you, not crazy lady."
She glances back at him. "It's Claire."
"Daniel" he replies with a smile.
Claire takes off, she doesn't look back behind her as Daniel pulls out his cell phone and makes a call.
***
Claire's feet pound against the sidewalk as she runs home, one hand still wrapped around the gun in the front of her hoodie. She's almost made it home when she hears the single whoop of a police siren as a cop car pulls up to the curb in front of her. Thinking fast, Claire tosses the gun into the bushes as unobtrusively as she can. With any luck, the officer will be too busy parking to notice.
"Claire," the officer said closing the door of his car with a thunk and walking around to stand in front of her, "I heard you'd made a run for it again."
Great, it was the same asshole who had caught her earlier this week. It was like he was out to get her or something, but how had he found her so easily? She usually managed to evade patrols for several weeks before getting dragged back into the group home. And why did it have to be now of all times?
"Well, you know the drill" he says, grabbing her by the arm and shoving her forcefully into the car.
Half an hour later, Claire is back in the group home's isolation room kicking the door in frustration.