fly high across the sky ( Claire & Castiel | ~1k words | Read on AO3)
A 10x09 Coda
Castiel doesn’t smell like she remembers her father smelling.
He looks like him—a little more tired, different trench coat, but him all the same—and for one shocking, stupid moment when he’d walked in the door at the group home her mind had screamed Dad and every part of her had ached for him, to throw herself into arms she knew would be at once hard and soft and warm, hands that would stroke her hair and lips that would kiss her head and tell her everything was okay. Jimmy would have done all of those things, and he would have said a prayer with her for God to watch over her.
But if God exists he’s a bastard like Castiel, and Jimmy’s dead because of them both.
The anger isn’t new but it’s shocking now, to feel that fury alongside the visceral ache deep in her bones that longs to reach out to him, the part of her that looks at the angel and screams father even though she knows he’s no longer there. And after that man—the loan shark who came after Randy for payment—had touched her, she was left broken and shaking and scared, just like the child she swears she isn’t, a weak little thing she promised herself she would never be after Castiel stole her father for a second time. But it was so easy, after Castiel saved her, to climb into the back seat of that big black car and curl into his heat, comforted by the sight of the familiar face he wears, that strong arm settling stiffly around her thin shoulders.
