claire winchester is not your typical superhero (goallbuffyonus) wrote in colligo_threads, @ 2012-12-28 21:01:00 |
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Entry tags: | claire winchester, dean winchester |
who | Claire and Dean.
what | A reunion.
when | Around midnight.
where | Casa de Winchester.
rating | PG.
status | Complete.
Ten years. That’s how long it had been. Ten long, lonely years where Claire had stayed in the shadows and simply watched the world pass her by. Granted, the first few years had been easy enough, what with no one she knew being around. It had just been her, and the locals, and she had spent most of her time trying to figure out ways to get back. Then she had arrived in Colligo - at least, the original version of herself had arrived - and Claire had realized that there was no going back. There was no way out of the mess she was in. She was simply going to have to wait it out, while staying out of sight and doing her best not to meddle in, well, anything.
It hadn’t been easy. Having to stand idly by while Dean was killed, or while her friends suffered, had been far more difficult than she ever would have imagined. Even knowing things worked out in the end hadn’t helped much. She was still plagued with the understanding that she could have done something to ease the suffering of both her past self, as well as others, yet chose to stay out of it. Sure, it was for the best, but who really gave a rat’s ass about what was best when you were watching your husband’s lifeless body being driven away in an ambulance when you could have easily kept it from being put there in the first place?
Still. She’d managed. And by the time a decade had passed, and the fateful Christmas day had arrived when her adventure had first begun, Claire was something of an expert at staying hidden. Yes, she had slip-ups from time to time. It wasn’t easy, keeping constant tabs on everyone around her when she lacked access to the network and couldn’t get close enough to them in public to overhear things that were being said. But aside from a few moments here and there, she’d done pretty well. Or, at least, well enough that she knew Dean was definitely not going to be expecting her to turn back up no worse for the wear.
She had considered putting that off, in fact, if only because she didn’t want him knocked off his game with everything that was going on in the city. Having a husband who was distracted by his wife’s miraculous return from the unknown wasn’t the best way to ensure he survived an invasion filled to bursting with deadly adversaries, after all. However, in the end, Claire finally let her selfishness win out. The fact was, she missed him. She missed her family. She missed her friends. She missed every single aspect of the life she’d had taken from her a decade earlier, and she wanted it back. Now.
Ultimately, it was that thought that gave her the strength to make her way up the walkway to her home. She had waited until it was plenty late enough that the kids would hopefully be in bed, and had even made herself hold off a few days following her disappearance in case she’d gotten her dates turned around over the years and didn’t actually leave on Christmas day as she remembered so vividly having done. But that was all the compromising she was going to do, she told herself. Because the time had come for her to finally reclaim what was hers, and Emmanuelle help anyone who tried to stand in her way. And with that decisive point made, even if only in her own mind, Claire raised her hand and knocked softly on her own front door.
It wasn’t until the echoes of the knocking had faded and footsteps could be heard from inside, drawing closer, that she realized she had forgotten one very important little detail. Throughout all of her planning, despite all of the times spent imagining this moment and the hours upon hours spent rationalizing her decision to show back up rather than waiting until the invasion had passed and returning with all of the others who might be lost along the way, she had forgotten something pretty damn important. Perhaps, even, the most important thing of all.
She had no freaking clue what she was going to say.
Dean was at a loss. Claire was gone. Not dead. Gone. And he didn't know what to do in the face of that. If she'd been dead, it would simply have been a matter of waiting for her to come back. But there was no telling where or when the angels had sent her or if she'd ever return. He knew she was immortal, but there was every chance she had been sent back in time somewhere else, or that in the time since she'd been sent back she got returned home. He just wasn't sure. So the only thing he could do was act as though his wife was dead and do his best to carry on while hoping she would come back.
He was worried about the kids, the way he always was when things like this happened in the city, but he knew they were strong. Emma had been a huge help, as had Adam and Benny and the others, but nothing would really make up for his wife's absence. Still, Dean refused to even consider the possibility that his wife was gone forever. She would come back, because she always came back and that was all there was to it. Until then, he'd just do his best for his kids and hope they all got through this in relatively one piece.
Now though, he was just glad to have a moment to himself. The kids were asleep and the others were giving him space, and he was just relieved to have some time alone. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate everyone, he did, but he hadn't really been able to process Claire's absence with so many people around him. Alone in the living room with a beer, he frowned at the Christmas tree, lost in his thoughts.
The knock startled him, mostly because of the hour, but he figured he couldn't exactly leave someone out there with all the chaos, no matter who it was.
Opening the door, he couldn't contain the sigh of relief. "I like the hair," he said with a tired smile, for lack of any sort of intelligent response. He was just so glad to see his wife again. "How long's it been?"
As she hadn't really thought of what to say, Claire was most definitely struck silent when Dean appeared in the doorway. Of course, even if she'd had a speech that she'd written, re-written, worked over a bit more, and ultimately memorized, she probably still would have been silent anyway. Because it was just too much, at first. The sight of him, knowing that this wasn't some dream where she was going to wake up, alone, again, the realization that she was finally home and could once more be with her family, it was all just too much. There wasn't any other way to put it. She was wholly and completely overwhelmed.
So for a moment, even after he'd asked her a very pointed question, all she could do was stand there. Her vision slowly began to blur as tears filled her eyes, her lower lip trembled, and she felt as though she might come undone at the seams at any given moment. Yet she still simply stood there, trying like hell to make her brain even though it seemed to have remained across town in the crappy little apartment she'd called home for the past decade rather than travelling with her here, to the place where her nightmare was finally going to be over.
Then, a horn sounded up the street and, just like that, Claire snapped out of her shock. At least, she snapped out of it enough to manage a watery sounding, "Ten years." And no sooner had the words left her mouth was she rushing forward, covering the few feet remaining between them to pull him into a hug that really wound up being much more like her clinging to him and trying like hell not to cry loudly enough to wake the kids.
"It probably still smells like dye," she mumbled after a second, her face pressed against his shoulder. Sniffling a bit, she realized that having half of a conversation in her head and the other half out loud wasn't the best way to communicate. Burying her face against his shoulder for a moment more, she finally tried again.
"My hair," she admitted as she pulled back just enough to look at up him. "I kept it brown, so I wouldn't be so obvious if someone saw me or something. I just dyed it back blond yesterday."
Dean wasn't sure what he'd expected, but it wasn't Claire standing there staring at him, as if she was the one looking at some kind of impossibility. She was the one who'd been gone, not him. If anyone got to look like that, it was him. Even though it had only been a few days, he'd still missed her. He'd still been tormented by the idea that his wife might never come back. Still, he didn't want to push her, so he waited for a response rather than prodding her for more, as much as he really wanted answers.
And then he couldn't even bring himself to be frustrated or annoyed, because she looked like she might cry and the words that came out of her mouth made him freeze in place. Ten years. Jesus, that was messed up. Sometimes Dean seriously questioned Asaph's judgment. Or, really, most of the time he did. Especially when he learned that his wife had been virtually alone, without him or their children or anyone, for a full decade.
"Ten years," he repeated quietly, catching her as she threw herself into his arms and holding her tight. The relief he felt was practically overwhelming and all he could do for a long moment was hold Claire tightly. "Ten years...man that's fucked up. You realize you're older than me now, right?" He smiled slightly as he looked down at her.
"I don't care how it smells," he said, playing idly with her hair before leaning down to kiss her. Even after so much time had passed for her, kissing her still felt the same. He figured some things just never changed. "It's weird," he said, when they finally pulled back, "you being in the city this whole time and nobody ever even realizing. It's really fucking weird. But I'm just glad you're back. I missed you, babe."
For Claire, the kiss solidified everything far better than any words ever could. Sure, hearing him speak, seeing him standing there, all of it had confirmed in some small way that this was really happening. However, feeling his lips on hers made it all come full circle and any doubt that she might be dreaming, as she’d dreamt of this moment so many times over the years before, evaporated in that instant. The tears slowly began to stop falling and she sighed heavily, the motion born purely from relief and the feeling of finally, finally being home again.
"I missed you too," she replied, her voice still a bit watery sounding but definitely not nearly as shaky as it had been moments before. She sniffled once, quietly, before finally peering up at him with a smile. It was a bit frayed around the edges, and definitely showed how tired she was from everything, but it was unquestionably sincere and one of happiness too. It had been far too long since she’d really smile like that and she vowed, right then and there, to never let a day go by when she didn’t smile again. "And I think I did realize it, at least a little."
Finally stepping back enough that they could talk without her clinging to him like a drowning man holding onto a life raft, she absently ran a hand through her once again longer hair. “I mean, I remember seeing someone who looked like me, just a few days before the invasion started. Which actually was me... I mean, this me... that the other me saw. Only I was the other me at the time and...” She trailed off, her nose crinkling a bit. With a half-snort, half-laugh, she scrubbed a hand down her face. "And I really hate time travel." Sighing a bit, she peered up at him.
"So let’s make a deal. No more of me going near Weeping Angels. Like... ever. Work for you?"
Was there a lot they needed to talk about? Yes. Was it going to take her a while to get fully back into the swing of being back in her life again? Of course. However, much like every other issue the city caused in their lives, Claire was relying on the tried and true method they’d developed of brushing it off, for now, and just taking the good while they had it. There would be time for talking, later. For now, she just really wanted to enjoy being home again.
Even though it had only been a few days, Dean felt like it had been years since he'd been with his wife like this. He knew that was ridiculous, considering it really had only been days, and it had, in fact, been years for her. If anything, he should just be grateful that in those ten years she hadn't moved on and made a new life for herself. Not that he thought Claire would do that, but he wouldn't exactly blame her if she did. He wanted his wife to be happy, even if it wasn't with him. Still, he definitely preferred her being happy with him and he was glad she'd come back. And he needed to stop sounding like such a dumbass in his own head.
The kiss could easily have gotten out of control. They were, after all, Winchesters, and their relationship had never exactly been family friendly. They'd had three kids in two years, after all, and it wasn't like people weren't aware of just how active their sex life was after the Halloween debacle and various awkward questions on oversharing questionnaires. Nobody would have blamed them for getting caught up in the moment after losing one another, whether it was for a few days or ten years.
But they could do that later. For now, Dean just wanted to talk to his wife and reassure her that everything was okay. Though they weren't kissing any more, Dean kept close to her, his arm wrapped around her as if he was afraid of letting her go in case she disappeared again. "Time travel is confusing as hell," he agreed. "But I get what you mean. You remember seeing the you that you are now back when you were the you...you were then. Okay, that didn't make sense either. Let's just not worry about that and focus on being very glad you're back."
He frowned. "And no more Weeping Angels," he said firmly. "Ever. No more statues at all. I'm seriously tempted to blow up all the statues in the city. Not taking any chances."
That taken care of he pulled Claire close again, just holding her tightly in his arms. "I don't know what I'd do without you, babe," he said softly. "I really don't. So...you can't do that again, okay? Because I'm not good at this without you and...you're just not allowed to go anywhere. I need you here with me." He knew this was the opposite of their usual method of not dealing with things, but it needed to be said. Claire needed to hear it. He was just glad everyone else was asleep, because he didn't particularly want to deal with the shit he'd get for laying his emotions out like that, even if it was with his wife.
Of course, if anyone, anyone, had been around and tried to give Dean crap about what he was saying, Claire would have most definitely given them a piece of her mind, if not threatened them to within an inch of their life - depending upon who was the guilty party, of course. The point was, she was fine - more than fine, really - with Dean expressing himself and she would never stand for anyone else to give him a hard time for doing so. Still. Part of her was glad that no one else seemed to be awake, or at least around, at that particular moment. Not because of what her husband was saying, but rather because she wasn’t sure she could deal with others at the moment. As it stood, she was having a hard enough time not breaking down into tears and simply clinging to her husband out of relief that was so powerful it was all-consuming.
Resting her head against Dean’s chest, Claire closed her eyes for a moment and simply basked in the fact that she was back where she belonged. Eventually, though, she raised her head and stepped back enough to peer up at him, offering a smile as she promised, "No more going up against the Weeping Angels." With a pause, she tacked on, "Or anything else that can take me away. Because that was awful and you aren’t the only one who can’t go through this alone." Then she pressed another kiss to his lips before pulling her head back and offering him a slow smirk.
"So," she drawled the word out before stepping back entirely and grinning fully at him. "Race you to the bedroom?"
Dean appreciated the way his wife was perfectly willing to kick people's asses over him. Not that he knew what she was thinking, but if he'd had to guess he would have had a pretty good idea. They were Winchesters, and they tended to go to bat for one another without a second thought. Looking down at Claire, Dean couldn't help but think his mom would have liked her. His dad too, once he got over thinking she was some kind of monster and trying to murder her. She was so much like what he remembered of his mom, what he had seen of her in the past. He continued holding her, thinking how lucky he was to have her back, and he gave a heavy sigh of relief. He was glad to have this private moment, considering how little privacy they got in their lives with just about a million other people in the house. He wanted it to last, but knew they needed to let everyone else know. It wasn't really fair to leave them worrying when Claire was home and safe.
But maybe they could leave it until morning. He smiled, returning the kiss, and just watched Claire quietly for a moment before speaking. He couldn't help it, not wanting to even take his eyes off her in case she vanished when he looked away. "Awful doesn't begin to describe it," he said. "But, at the risk of sounding like a complete fucking girl, we're never really gonna be alone. Because we'll always get back to each other. We're...well...we're fucking epic." He grinned. "But...yeah...let's avoid a repeat, at least for a while." He pulled her into another kiss, then laughed at her smirk and her words. Yeah, he really had lucked out in the wife department. No doubt about that.
"That," he said, "is the best idea I've ever heard." The others would probably be annoyed that they hadn't told them right away, but what did they expect? Sex was on the table. Dean wasn't exactly going to put it off to tell everybody and their mom Claire was back.