Claire sighed again, catching the last tear with the side of her thumb before settling back in her spot, her arms folded loosely on the table, away from her slightly swollen belly.
"You have any idea how many times I wished my life could go back to the way it was?" she asked gently. "Before Castiel. Before the demons. Before my mom lost her mind, and I ended up killing things for a living, never expecting to live beyond thirty years old?" While she may have been driving the point home a little harshly, Claire's face was nothing but empathetic and full of poignant compassion for her brother.
"Things will never be like they used to be- not for me, and not for you. But you know what? All the fucked up things that happened to me lead me here. To you. And Dean. To having a chance at a life I thought was dead a long time ago," she added. "Is this situation perfect? Not even close, but I'm not sorry. I'm tense and hormonal and still vaguely terrified, but I know what I have now..."
Her hand moved, taking his again as she met his eyes. "I'm sorry Max did that to you. Maybe she had her reasons, but you're my brother- kinda by choice, if you think about it, which is a big deal." Offering him a small smile, it sobered a little as she went on. "Anything and anyone that hurts you gets a big Fuck You from me. And I guarantee you, it's the same with Dean- ten fold. He's lost so many people in his life, Rory... I don't know how he's able to form attachments at all- but he does. And when they're broken, the way the island takes people away for example, those scars run deep. No one can ask him to jump into that again after it just healed over... and that whole mess that happened between you two was too fresh. He thought you were abandoning him, and went right into Lock Down."