Running Away
Two new secrets revealed= Oh Shit
Claire POV
Every instinct within Claire screamed to run away at the prone form of Sam Winchester. She didn’t know why; she certainly wasn’t one of them flighty chicks who fainted at the sight of blood or a person who suddenly passed out. But seeing this struck fear into her heart. The only reason she had come running was because the asshole, Dean Winchester, had come running to him. Dean picked up one arm and slung it around his shoulder while Jared kept the other firmly around his. “Get the army bunk out from under the bottom shelf!”
Claire did an about face and went to cabinet in the corner of the room. Jared had always insisted on having a folding Army cot under it; now she knew why. With more force then nessciary she yanked the cot out from under the cabinet; it sprang free, a bolt flying past her face so now it sagged to a the side somewhat. “What’s wrong with him?” Claire asked from a respectable distance as Jared and Dean lay Sam onto it.
“He had a headache,” Jared said simply.
Claire snorted. “Yeah of epic proportions. What happened really Jare?” At this Claire turned to look at Dean. “Or do I have to get an answer out of you?”
“You can try little girl,” Dean said with a growl, his attention solely focused on Sam. “He’ll be fine…this…this kind of thing happens sometimes,” Dean said to Jared, never taking his eyes of Sam.
Claire was nervous as Hell. And it wasn’t because Sam had just fainted. There was something in the air, something almost-dare she say it? - demonic like in this room now. The feeling of dread was rolling over her and the source was Sam. But why? The only reason Sam would be the source of such demonic energy was if the yellow-eyed demon, the one Dad had called Azaeral, had dripped blood in his mouth too. Just like…
“Jared get away from him,” Claire screamed, yanking back her brother’s arm behind her with a steel vise grip. “He’s one of them!”
Dean POV
Sam’s eyes fluttered open and he shook his head for a moment, when Claire had screamed. “One…of them…”Sam said and Dean took the instinctive position in front of Sam.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Dean growled, one hand resting on his gun.
Claire let out a …growl…no a dam fucking snarl, much like a wolf than a human, bearing her teeth. The canines lengthened just slightly, her fingernails grew a few inches longer, but enough to prove what both brothers had suspected. Claire O’Conner was a werewolf. “You’re one of them aren’t you? An agent from Azazel aren’t you?”
Sam nearly jumped up from his cot. “You know Azazel?!”
“I won’t let you touch my brother,” Claire snarled again.
“Fine by me,” Dean said, pulling out his gun and taking the safety back. “I’ll just shoot you right here!”
“Calm down,” Jared yelled as he struggled to pull away from his sister’s grip. Dean noticed grimly that in true werewolf fashion, Claire’s fingernails were digging into Jared’s skin, causing bloody puncture wounds. “Damn it Claire! Either you let me go or I’ll burn you!”
And it was then Dean saw the flash of light, causing him to lower his gun for a second. One second Claire had been almost in mid-transformation, ready to rip out his throat. And the next there was a bright orange flame, the size of small sparrow that had magically appeared on Claire’s hand. She gave a feral scream and let go of her brother; survival on the brain. Dean immediately raised his gun. “Fuck,” he yelled, dropping it as the metal’s sudden hotness, burning into his hand. The gun clattered to the floor as Dean clutched his hand, the pain searing through it. “Shit on a stick!”
Sam POV
Claire immeadtily rammed her hand against the wall with full, uninhibtated strength; once, twice, three times, successfully smothering the fire out but leaving her own hand covered in ugly bluish gray bruises. Dean meanwhile, was holding his own injured hand. “Shit on a damns tick,” Dean growled, blowing on his hand.
“Dean you alright?” Sam asked beating back the vertigo that washed over him as he got out the cot.
Dean nodded. “Yeah yeah. Now I know what it feels like to have a pop tart in a damn oven as a hand.” Sam shifted his attention from his brother to Jared O’Conner. Jared O’Conner had a dreamy smile on his face, eyes casted obviously somewhere else. With the lethargy of a man just awakened from sleep he turned around, as if looking for something. His gaze, much like an addict’s seriously high gaze, settled on a half empty water bottle on one of the shelves. The water in it began to boil, slowly as if there was all the time in the world; steam curling upwards until there was none left.
“What the fuck,” Dean stated.
“That’s the understatement of the century bro,” Sam replied back, watching as Jared seemed to come back to life.
“Claire, make sure Howie isn’t-“
“Already on it,” Claire chirped, stuffing her bruised hand into one pocket as she ran out to the front.
Sam watched Jared rub his temples, his mind racing. So they were physic? Well Jared was. That meant that Jared was like him, one of the Special Children. And somehow Claire was a werewolf. So much to learn and discover; this felt like being in a damn washer machine. Jared flashed Sam an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry you had to see that. As you’ve probably gathered, I’m one of the Special Children. My power is pryokinese; the ability to create flames with my mind. I’d rather we discuss this in a more private setting, such as my home.”
Sam nodded. It made sense. Dean being Dean however, had other ideas. “Wait…so you could heat a hot dog up just by thinking it?”
“I can make a man’s face burst into flames if I thought it,” Jared replied back solemnly. “And I’d prefer it if you didn’t try to kill my sister or I’ll do more than burn your hand.”
“That a threat?”
“That’s a promise.”
“Both of you calm down,” Sam snapped. The last thing he needed was for Dean himself to burst into flame. And judging by the threatening glare Jared was giving Dean he wouldn’t hesitate. They had to get somewhere to talk. There was still a werewolf to find, Azael to deal with, and now Claire the possible killer with her pryo-brother. Why couldn’t they be a normal pair of brothers? No serial killer werewolves, no human blow torches that work in a dam gun store for God’s sake! Just a normal pair of human brothers living uneventful lives. Because God was too busy laughing at them right now.
Sam could hear light, approaching footsteps before Claire appeared before them, hair slightly mussed. “Howie is such a girl sometimes. Everything ok?”
“If you mean getting burned by the human microwave here no.”
Sam and Claire both swiveled their heads to look at Dean. “Shut up Dean!” they yelled silmtouisoly. Claire sighed and brushed some hair from behind one ear. “Sorry about this. But it’s not like I can say, ‘Hey there! My name is Claire and I turn into a giant dog. This is my brother, the human campfire but just call him Jiffy Pop.”
“Well you could have warned us about Zippo here,” Dean growled, distrust obvious in his eyes as he mentioned towards Jared.
“You two do know I’m still here right?”
Sam sighed. This was going to be a long day.
Every instinct within Claire screamed to run away at the prone form of Sam Winchester. She didn’t know why; she certainly wasn’t one of them flighty chicks who fainted at the sight of blood or a person who suddenly passed out. But seeing this struck fear into her heart. The only reason she had come running was because the asshole, Dean Winchester, had come running to him. Dean picked up one arm and slung it around his shoulder while Jared kept the other firmly around his. “Get the army bunk out from under the bottom shelf!”
Claire did an about face and went to cabinet in the corner of the room. Jared had always insisted on having a folding Army cot under it; now she knew why. With more force then nessciary she yanked the cot out from under the cabinet; it sprang free, a bolt flying past her face so now it sagged to a the side somewhat. “What’s wrong with him?” Claire asked from a respectable distance as Jared and Dean lay Sam onto it.
“He had a headache,” Jared said simply.
Claire snorted. “Yeah of epic proportions. What happened really Jare?” At this Claire turned to look at Dean. “Or do I have to get an answer out of you?”
“You can try little girl,” Dean said with a growl, his attention solely focused on Sam. “He’ll be fine…this…this kind of thing happens sometimes,” Dean said to Jared, never taking his eyes of Sam.
Claire was nervous as Hell. And it wasn’t because Sam had just fainted. There was something in the air, something almost-dare she say it? - demonic like in this room now. The feeling of dread was rolling over her and the source was Sam. But why? The only reason Sam would be the source of such demonic energy was if the yellow-eyed demon, the one Dad had called Azaeral, had dripped blood in his mouth too. Just like…
“Jared get away from him,” Claire screamed, yanking back her brother’s arm behind her with a steel vise grip. “He’s one of them!”
Dean POV
Sam’s eyes fluttered open and he shook his head for a moment, when Claire had screamed. “One…of them…”Sam said and Dean took the instinctive position in front of Sam.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Dean growled, one hand resting on his gun.
Claire let out a …growl…no a dam fucking snarl, much like a wolf than a human, bearing her teeth. The canines lengthened just slightly, her fingernails grew a few inches longer, but enough to prove what both brothers had suspected. Claire O’Conner was a werewolf. “You’re one of them aren’t you? An agent from Azazel aren’t you?”
Sam nearly jumped up from his cot. “You know Azazel?!”
“I won’t let you touch my brother,” Claire snarled again.
“Fine by me,” Dean said, pulling out his gun and taking the safety back. “I’ll just shoot you right here!”
“Calm down,” Jared yelled as he struggled to pull away from his sister’s grip. Dean noticed grimly that in true werewolf fashion, Claire’s fingernails were digging into Jared’s skin, causing bloody puncture wounds. “Damn it Claire! Either you let me go or I’ll burn you!”
And it was then Dean saw the flash of light, causing him to lower his gun for a second. One second Claire had been almost in mid-transformation, ready to rip out his throat. And the next there was a bright orange flame, the size of small sparrow that had magically appeared on Claire’s hand. She gave a feral scream and let go of her brother; survival on the brain. Dean immediately raised his gun. “Fuck,” he yelled, dropping it as the metal’s sudden hotness, burning into his hand. The gun clattered to the floor as Dean clutched his hand, the pain searing through it. “Shit on a stick!”
Sam POV
Claire immeadtily rammed her hand against the wall with full, uninhibtated strength; once, twice, three times, successfully smothering the fire out but leaving her own hand covered in ugly bluish gray bruises. Dean meanwhile, was holding his own injured hand. “Shit on a damns tick,” Dean growled, blowing on his hand.
“Dean you alright?” Sam asked beating back the vertigo that washed over him as he got out the cot.
Dean nodded. “Yeah yeah. Now I know what it feels like to have a pop tart in a damn oven as a hand.” Sam shifted his attention from his brother to Jared O’Conner. Jared O’Conner had a dreamy smile on his face, eyes casted obviously somewhere else. With the lethargy of a man just awakened from sleep he turned around, as if looking for something. His gaze, much like an addict’s seriously high gaze, settled on a half empty water bottle on one of the shelves. The water in it began to boil, slowly as if there was all the time in the world; steam curling upwards until there was none left.
“What the fuck,” Dean stated.
“That’s the understatement of the century bro,” Sam replied back, watching as Jared seemed to come back to life.
“Claire, make sure Howie isn’t-“
“Already on it,” Claire chirped, stuffing her bruised hand into one pocket as she ran out to the front.
Sam watched Jared rub his temples, his mind racing. So they were physic? Well Jared was. That meant that Jared was like him, one of the Special Children. And somehow Claire was a werewolf. So much to learn and discover; this felt like being in a damn washer machine. Jared flashed Sam an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry you had to see that. As you’ve probably gathered, I’m one of the Special Children. My power is pryokinese; the ability to create flames with my mind. I’d rather we discuss this in a more private setting, such as my home.”
Sam nodded. It made sense. Dean being Dean however, had other ideas. “Wait…so you could heat a hot dog up just by thinking it?”
“I can make a man’s face burst into flames if I thought it,” Jared replied back solemnly. “And I’d prefer it if you didn’t try to kill my sister or I’ll do more than burn your hand.”
“That a threat?”
“That’s a promise.”
“Both of you calm down,” Sam snapped. The last thing he needed was for Dean himself to burst into flame. And judging by the threatening glare Jared was giving Dean he wouldn’t hesitate. They had to get somewhere to talk. There was still a werewolf to find, Azael to deal with, and now Claire the possible killer with her pryo-brother. Why couldn’t they be a normal pair of brothers? No serial killer werewolves, no human blow torches that work in a dam gun store for God’s sake! Just a normal pair of human brothers living uneventful lives. Because God was too busy laughing at them right now.
Sam could hear light, approaching footsteps before Claire appeared before them, hair slightly mussed. “Howie is such a girl sometimes. Everything ok?”
“If you mean getting burned by the human microwave here no.”
Sam and Claire both swiveled their heads to look at Dean. “Shut up Dean!” they yelled silmtouisoly. Claire sighed and brushed some hair from behind one ear. “Sorry about this. But it’s not like I can say, ‘Hey there! My name is Claire and I turn into a giant dog. This is my brother, the human campfire but just call him Jiffy Pop.”
“Well you could have warned us about Zippo here,” Dean growled, distrust obvious in his eyes as he mentioned towards Jared.
“You two do know I’m still here right?”
Sam sighed. This was going to be a long day.