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The Lie You Can Live With

Summary:

Claire's not going to make it, and Castiel can't save her. But as Dean is quick to point out, there's still something he can do, even without his power.

(She dies, guys. Like, no joke. She freaking dies. Permanently. Read at your own risk! Don't read if it's going to be too much for you! Take care of your mental health!)

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Dean heard the sickening sound of metal piercing flesh as the blade went through Claire's abdomen. The hitch of her breath.

If she made it out of this one, Jody was gonna kill him.

She knew the risks. She was a hunter. She chose the life for the same reasons they all did. Every threat she took out equaled countless lives saved.

Hunters don't live long.

The creature swung it's foot in an impressive backward arc, catching the side of Claire's head. Dean heard the crack of bone. Claire was falling.

He'd seen it many times, he'd seen hunters drop to the ground only to recover between seconds and months later. His father, his brother, Bobby, Cas, he'd done it himself. It didn't mean death. Statistically speaking, down rarely meant death. He had hope.

The being they'd chased ran off with a laugh, amused at the pain and bloodshed it had wrought. Dean called to Claire as he ran to her side, dropping to the floor next to her and taking the sides of her face in his hands.

Castiel heard him, he was sure. Castiel hadn't been far. Maybe it wasn't too bad, maybe she wasn't too far gone.

She was a bloodied mess, and her eyes were hazy. It was going to be close. Maybe, even in his weakened state, his near-powerless and almost human condition, just maybe, Castiel could heal her. Maybe there was a chance.

He heard Castiel's hurried footsteps, followed closely by Sam's. He looked up to see Sam slowing. The expression on his face told Dean he already knew. It didn't look good. Castiel came closer, his first instinct to reach out and put a hand to her head, to make everything right again.

Castiel's face was grim as he weakly dropped his hand, his face filled with a sorrow he would never be human enough to hide.

Dean could feel himself shaking his head as Castiel looked to him, and he heard her speak. It was weak, forced, confused, and helpless, but she got the word out, "Daddy?"

Deep down, he knew Castiel would never just walk away, he must've had a reason, but it still hurt to watch him do it.

Sam had come closer, taking Claire's hand, checking the rate at which she was bleeding. She didn't have long.

"Dad?... Where's my dad?" Claire asked, "I know he was here."

"He's coming, sweetheart. He won't be a minute." Dean replied, patting her knee as he stood. He quickly walked the few yards to where Castiel stood, just far enough away she wouldn't notice him.

"Dean, I-"

"Cas, what the hell do you think you're doing?" Dean rasped quietly, "Get your ass back over there!"

"I'm too weak. The damage is too extensive. I can feel the bleeding in her brain... I'm sorry. There's nothing I can do." Castiel replied.

Dean shook his head hard, pointing emphatically, "No. There's not 'nothing.' Not as long as you're walking around in her father's body. Maybe you can't save her, but you can go talk to her... I think she's too far gone to know the difference."

Castiel looked uncertain, "I'm concerned... She may realize what's happening, it may only upset her."

"You had his memories, right?" Dean asked.

"Jimmy's memories are still stored in the brain of this vessel, yes."

"Use 'em... Any nickname he had for her, any time she made him proud, any little secret jokes they had, you go talk to her, as him, and you make her believe it."

"That would be a lie." Castiel replied.

"It's the kind of lie you can live with, Cas. It's the kind of comfort she deserves."

Castiel gave Dean a hard look for a moment before nodding, and walking back over to where Sam was trying to keep Claire from looking at her hands, having felt the wound on her stomach, and they now wore a coat of blood so heavy they may as well have been wearing red gloves.

Slowly, Castiel knelt next to her, taking her hand, ignoring the blood, "Claire..."

Claire was barely able to move her head, but her eyes focused for a brief second as he came into view.

"Daddy, where did you go?... You didn't come home."

"It doesn't matter, kitten, I'm here now." Castiel replied, his voice strangely different. It hadn't changed much, but it was still far more Jimmy than Cas.

"I left the lamp on every night for you."

Castiel nodded, "I know you did... You were always such a considerate child."

Claire squeezed his hand, the sound of the blood between their palms made Dean's stomach churn, but he couldn't bring himself to look away, and swallowed the minor retch in the top of his throat.

"I... I saved people."

"I know, honey... You did very well, and I couldn't be prouder of you." Castiel replied. Looking up he noticed that Sam had looked away to wipe his face as tears were silently streaming down his cheeks.

"I fought..." Claire started, her voice beginning to fail, "I fought because... I couldn't save mom."

"You tried, Claire. You tried your hardest."

Claire seemed to want to say something else, but quickly changed her mind, and tried to lift her head, "I'm cold... I wanna go home."

In Castiel's face, Dean could see it was still him. The same stiff, unsure, and inhuman movements, but he was trying. He gingerly raised Claire from the concrete, and held her carefully in his lap.

After a short time, it dawned on Dean that Castiel had begun to sing softly, and then a little later he made out the quiet tune. It was a lullaby he couldn't place, but the song wasn't important. Whether by instinct or through leftover memories, Castiel was rocking her gently.

And so it was, in a strange occurrence, that although he had passed away many years before, Claire Novak died peacefully in her father's loving arms.