Claire was still beyond sore from the days before. Having never been possessed before, but it took its toll. Her head was still throbbing, parts of her body were bruised and there was a twinge in her leg she couldn’t get to stop hurting. The blonde stretched painfully as she pushed the door to Dean’s room open. 

Lately she found herself crawling into bed with Dean at odd hours of the night. But they both decided it was best if she started off the night there with him, so she didn’t spend hours just tossing in turning. Just thinking about it still gave her butterflies. The fact that this was like a dream come true to her, was childish yet exciting. She had never expected Dean to even think it was an okay idea for them to be sleeping in the same but, but here she was.

Claire was getting to bed earlier than normal, her leg was just bothering her too much to really want to keep researching. Claire headed over to the dresser on the side of the room and stood on her toes to look at herself in the mirror. The blonde let her hair down from a messy bun to brush it later before she began to undress so that she could get into bed. 

Claire pulled off her jeans, tossing them aside. She pulled on a pair of shorts that were two sizes two big and covered in wholes, but they were warm and comfortable still so she had no need to get rid of them yet. Next came off her shirt and bra, soon revealing her tattoo that she had gotten a year ago now. In between her shoulder blades was a five inch tattoo. In an x shape was Dean’s gun laying over Sam’s demon knife, surrounding the two were wing’s that represented Castiel. The boys had saved her life, in every sense of the word. She had to have something on her body to represent them. 

The girl’s back was facing the door as she searched through Dean’s drawers to find an old tattered shirt to wear to bed. 

After Claire had been possessed, something between them had changed. Dean wasn’t sure whether it had been the demon’s admission that Claire felt something more for him than just a crush or whether almost losing her had finally broken whatever was in him that wanted to keep her at a distant, but he knew that both of them slept better next to each other than they did apart. So Claire had taken up residency in his bed, a fact he was more than okay with.

He knew that the possession hadn’t been easy on Claire, between the feelings the demon had thrown out in the open and the actual damage it had done while in her body. Dean had been trying to help her out as much as possible, from offering massages to running baths for her when the pain got too much, but as hard headed as Claire was she often ignored them. 

But when Claire had started going to be earlier than usual because of the pain, Dean knew something was really wrong. He weighed the option of calling Cas to see what was wrong, but a quick rejection of the idea from Sam stopped him. If Claire wanted to call Cas about it, she would have by now, and since it was her body Dean really couldn’t do much. It still wouldn’t stop him from bringing her one of the many cold presses they had around the bunker and some pain medicine.

Pushing open the door to the room that had started off as his but had slowly became their’s, Dean stopped at the sight of Claire’s bare back. It was still new to him that someone so beautiful wanted someone like him, but he wasn’t going to complain. The sight of black ink, barely visible due to the blonde hair covering a majority of her upper back, caught his attention. 

Silently making his way over to her, he could just make out what seemed to be wings covering most of her wing. “You have a tattoo,” he asked, hand already moving to push her hair out of the way so he could see the rest of it. “That’s hot.”

Claire came shuffling out of Dean bedroom in the bunker. Frankly her hair was a mess, and it wasn’t even from sex. It was from her falling asleep in a funny postion during her and Dean’s movie marathon. Claire didn’t remember what they were even watching but Dean had insisted on watching the whole damn trilogy. She guessed that Dean must have stayed up later than her seeing he was still passed out when she left the room. Claire yawned as she pulled on the hem of the shirt of Dean’s that she had put on.

She could smell the coffee from the kitchen already, the blonde guessed that Sam was already up and providing the energy the entire household would need to function. The blonde stumbled into the kitchen as she made her way to the fridge, shivering as she opened the door. There wasn’t much in there, they really needed to go shopping, or send Dean to go shopping. She pulled out a cup of one of the younger brother’s yogurt. This would have to do. Once she shut the door to the fridge, Claire nearly jumped out of her skin upon seeing someone in the kitchen. It wasn’t Sam.

She had to think back to last night. Did Sam go out? Did he bring someone home? Holy shit, did Cas bring someone back to the bunker? No, no.. Cas probably read the night away. “Uh –” the blonde started, clearing the sleep from her throat, “— wasn’t aware Sam was into older women.” She joked with a hum. She stepped around the woman to grab a spoon from one of the drawers. “Do I need to grab him for you or something?” She asked, trying to be polite. She wasn’t always the nicest in the morning so she was really trying. Waking up to a stranger in your house the bunker was beyond strange though.

The smell of coffee slowly brought Dean out of the sleep he’d been in. After forcing Clarie to watch the original Star Wars trilogy and passing out long after Clarie had, he wasn’t quite ready to face the world just yet. But coffee could make it more acceptable to be getting up right now. Bacon would make it even better, if he could get Sam to make some, or maybe convince Claire to.Slowly pushing himself out of bed, Dean grumbled to himself at the aches he could feel from sleeping the way he had.

It wasn’t his fault that Clarie was basically an octopus once she fell asleep and made it impossible to move, but it meant that he’d been stuck in a position that was killing his back right now. But it wasn’t like it hadn’t been worth it, not considering the blonde was warm and smelled better than anything else. Quickly throwing on a pair of pajama bottoms and Dean was ready to find coffee and breakfast.

The sound of Claire’s voice, surprised and confused all at once, stopped Dean in his tracks. Apparently it wasn’t Sam in the kitchen like both of them had thought but someone else. The thought of Sam bringing home someone to the bunker was enough to make him uneasy, if an outsider found out about their lives it would make living there very uncomfortable if something went wrong. And for all it’s faults, the bunker was home now.

“It’s about time Sammy got some,” Dean called out, after taking a deep breathe and forcing himself to walk into the kitchen. “And since someone keeps stealing my shirts, she better have poured me a cup of coffee for waking me up early.” He slowly entered the kitchen, a familiar scent blending in with the smell of coffee and making him stop dead in his tracks. Frantically searching the kitchen, he finally found the source of the smell. “Mom,” he asked, staring her down, confusion lacing everything in his body.

“Fuck you Dean Winchester.” Was the first words she mumbled as she downed her first drink of many. This was the last fucking time she went on a hunt and willingly watched Dean flirt with another bartender. So she was going to take her anger out with drinks. Which in not too long was going to be a bad idea.

She was going on about drink – well she lost count. And when she lost count that’s when clothing started coming off. First was her shoes, which she may have proceeded to toss in Dean’s direction as she headed away from the bar, stumbling sightly. She had noticed earlier an older guy, around Dean’s age, making eyes at her and why not just try and piss Dean off. 

The blonde giggled, as she leaned over the man, since he was at a table easily showing off her cleavage to the man. She had no idea what he was saying to her really, something about getting her another sounded like it was a good plan to her. Although she was more intrigued about the small dance floor by the jukebox which she managed to get the older man over too. 

As she headed over, Claire tossed off her plaid over shirt, that she maybe stole from Dean but she couldn’t remember right now. Leaning heavily on the jukebox, she flipped the song to something that had a little more rhythm to move her hips too. The moment the song started she was already swaying her hips slightly out of time to that music. She really wasn’t paying attention to the older man that was playing his hands on her hips, but instead just feeling the music. She rocked from side to side until her shirt started to feel like it was itching n her skin. 

The blonde easily pulled her shirt off, revealing a tight black tank that didn’t really leave too much to the imagination of what her lacy bra looked like. She hummed along to the music, having now to lean heavily back against the stranger behind her so she didn’t loose her footing as she tried to dance. 

The Winchester celebration of a successful hunt had always been going out and getting as drunk as possible. Well, the Dean Winchester way of celebration was that, Sam usually stayed in and nerded out over all the new information the bunker had for him to learn. Dragging Claire along hadn’t been his first choice of company, but she was a grown up and could make her own decisions. Which is how they found themselves in this situation to begin with.

Dean hadn’t been flirting with the bartender, not really, but she had been pretty to keep his attention and kept giving him free drinks. Neither of which he would ever complain about, and by about the fifth or sixth shot she’d given him he’d finally started flirting back. The feeling of something suddenly hitting his stool took his gaze away from the very prominent cleavage of the bartender. A quick glance at the floor told him somebody had taken off a shoe and if Dean concentrated on it long enough, it kinda looked like one of Claire’s. 

But before he could give it much thought, another shot was placed in front of him with a wink. His attention was kept firmly on the way her hips moved as she moved around the bar tending to patrons. A muttered curse of the older gentleman sitting next to him made him look away, following his glance to where Claire was dancing with someone too old for her with far less clothing on than she should have on right now.

Grabbing the refilled shot glass in front of him, Dean slowly pushed his way through the crowd. He wasn’t quite sure what he was doing, the alcohol in his system telling them that he needed to stop the other guy from putting his hands on Claire. Downing the rest of his shot as quickly as he, he used the fact that he was bigger than the guy Claire was dancing with to get him out of the way.

Claire bit her bottom lip as another loud crack of thunder roared over head. She had called Dean a couple days ago to help her out with a hunt, and she kinda wished she was still on that hunt. Claire could take on any supernatural creature she was given, but thunderstorms were something totally different. There was too much pain behind these storms. It always took her back, back to the days that made her like this.

She remembered the day that Castiel took her father for good. It was a storm, strong and loud, and the world shook as her father said yes to the angel. The light was so bright and the thunder broke the windows. Then Claire remembered the day her mother left, there was a storm. She remembered her screams for her mother to not leave her were drowned out by the thunder. The rain hid both her tears and her mother’s tears as she watched her mother leave and never come back.

Now, Dean was in the car with her, driving through this all. He had become something ever important to her, and the thought of another storm taking something from her made her sick to her stomach. The blonde was trying her best to remain calm though, she didn’t want to be scared. She didn’t really want anyone to see her scared. Normally she went through this alone, like she preferred. She had gone through all those things alone before and she had to face the storms alone. So having someone next to her made more afraid of them. 

A loud crack that shook the car, had Claire grabbing at Dean’s arm. She was just trying to find anything to ground herself. But the moment she realized what she had done, Claire pulled back her hand as if Dean had burned her. Now Claire just wanted to beat herself up even more, first she was terrified of the stupid storm but now she was getting touchy with Dean. That was really the icing on the cake. She turned to look out the window to just try to put more distance between her and Dean. She really didn’t want to have a conversation about what just happened and embarrass herself more. 

After spending the past couple of weeks going back and forth between his own hunts and helping Claire with her’s, there wasn’t much the blonde could do that would surprise him anymore. He’d gotten to use to her randomly calling him for his help, and then annoying the crap out of him until they parted ways. It was just the way they worked together. But watching Claire jump at the first crack of thunder wasn’t something he could have expected.

Sure it had been loud, loud enough to rattle teeth and shake the Impala, but it was just noise. Thunder couldn’t hurt anyone, that lesson had been drilled into his head at the age of five when he’d woken up during a thunderstorm. But maybe it had taken her by surprise, the loud crack filling the silence that wasn’t there normally. But then the rain had started and he had to push it out of his mind to concentrate on focusing on the road in front of them.

The feeling of Claire suddenly grabbing his arm broke that concentration, making him glance towards her. The terrified look on her face, the quick glance he’d caught before she’d turned away from him, surprised him. Ever since she had popped back into his life, Dean had always considered Claire fearless. Their job practically demanded a sort of courage most people didn’t have, but everyone had something that scared them and it made no sense. It seemed like thunderstorms were Claire’s airplanes.

There wasn’t much Dean could do in terms of helping her through this, not that she would even let him help as self-assured as she was, but he couldn’t just sit there and let her suffer. Slowly taking the hand closest to her off the steering wheel and sliding it in her direction seemed like the best solution. But after a couple of seconds of her not grabbing it, he started second guessing his decision. Hand holding wasn’t something they did, but it was what he’d always seen people do to comfort other.

Tightening his other hand on the steering wheel, he slowly slide his free hand along the seat until it bumped against her leg. Leaving it there, he turned back to focusing on the road since the weather was getting worse. At the rate it was going, they’d have to stop soon for the night. 

Claire, sighed glaring down at her phone. It had been awhile since she called for help. After leaving Jody’s place, Claire had gone on hunts on her own. She was getting pretty good at it actually and really hadn’t had an issue until now. She was sitting on dirty motel floor cleaning a deep wound. She didn’t expect that there was going to be more than one werewolf but now there was a pack. There was at least four of them and the girl knew that she couldn’t take them on her own, especially after the wound on her side. 

Expect she didn’t wanna really call the boys. The only thing she ever contacted them for was to just shoot a text Cas’s way to tell him that she is still alive.Ever since their last meeting, something had changed in Claire. She no longer saw Dean as an annoying piece of shit, but as something… useful to her. He had become.. attractive to her and it really made her angry. The last thing she needed was to be attracted to someone, but Dean Winchester? The fates must really have it out for her. 

The girl winced in pain as she shifted to bring the phone up to her ear. She knew it was pretty late, but Dean wasn’t that old, no matter how many jokes she made, to be sleeping right now. “C’mon pick up. There is no way you could be asleep.” She mumbled into the phone. The blonde hated that she could feel excitement stirring in her stomach at the idea of seeing Dean again. She knew nothing would happen there though, no matter how many times she wished it would. That was always in dead of night. It was times that she was alone, around four in the  morning. For once the world went silent and sometimes she’d wonder where Dean was. She’d wonder what he was up too and sometimes he’d wonder what he was thinking about. Claire would times wish that she wasn’t alone and she could hear the stupid gruff voice talking about a hunt. Yet, she’d wake up alone, like always.

“Hello?” She spoke into the phone when the line finally stopped ringing.

The hunt Dean had been on had been so boring that he’d briefly considering just letting the lower level demon go and letting nature take it’s course. But doing that went against the Winchester way, plus he wasn’t sure Sam would have agreed to letting a demon go like that. He didn’t even have to break a sweat ridding the world of one less demon, and that was always a win in his book. Which meant the familiar routine of getting rid of the demon, climbing into the Impala, and checking into the first motel that didn’t offer hourly rooms. And if Dean was extra lucky, stopping by a still-open burger place for a well deserved midnight snack.

But the universe, like it usually had been recently, was against him, and every food place they drove by had either closed early or was closed for renovations. Which left Dean in a terrible mood and hungry in his motel room, so when his ringtone blared suddenly in the middle of the quiet he’d briefly considered letting it keep ringing. But a voice, one that sounded like a strange mixture of Sam and his dad, reminded him that it could be important. Especially for that number. 

Claire’s name flashed on the screen once, bringing a tired groan from Dean. Out of all the people to randomly bother him late at night, it had to be her. Mentally kicking himself for feeling bitter, if she were calling him it had to be something important, there wasn’t any other reason why she’d be calling him of all people, he scrambled for his phone. “Claire,” he answered as soon as the phone was up to his ear. “What’s wrong?”