A/N: For NightHaunter15, who requested a case fic with Cas and Claire bonding. Hope you like what I came up with!

Thanks to 29Pieces as always for beta reading!

Disclaimer: Supernatural isn't mine. Some setup and lines from episode 11x12 "Don't You Forget About Me," but this story actually takes place after episode 11x5 "Thin Lizzie," so before Cas left the bunker to find Metatron.

Chapter 1

Dean slammed the bunker door shut behind him and jogged down the steps, spurred by the tantalizing aroma of fat and grease oozing from his takeout bag. The burger inside was a work of genius, plain and simple, and he couldn't wait to dig in.

Sam was sitting at one of the study room tables, staring intently at his laptop screen.

"Did you catch us a case?" Dean asked. Though, if he had, Dean was eating his food first.

Sam glanced up, then back to whatever he was looking at. "Uh, no." His brow puckered incredulously. "Get this. Some…some dude took a picture of a weasel riding a flying woodpecker. Midair. It's kinda nuts."

Dean pulled up short, trying to visualize that for a moment. He gave up and shook his head. "So I'm guessing there's nothing on the Amara meter either."

"Uh, no. No more reports of people sounding like they're turning up soulless that I can find."

Dean slid into the chair at the end of the table. "Guess that's a plus." He reached into his takeout bag and pulled out what was sure to be the highlight of his day. Shooting his brother an ecstatic look, Dean carefully set the paper tray on the table and pushed the wrapping down, revealing the most beautiful thing Dean had seen in a long while. Immensely pleased, he tossed the paper bag over his shoulder, leaving the burger on full, undisrupted display.

Sam stared at it. "What the hell is that?"

"That?" Dean said, grinning madly. "That's the Elvis."

"Elvis?" Sam repeated.

"Mhm-hmm," Dean mumbled, basking in anticipation of that first bite.

Sam's forehead creased as he reached out to touch it. "Is that a—?"

"That's a glazed donut," Dean confirmed.

Sam yanked his hand back and rubbed his fingers together.

"Two, actually," Dean went on. "One topside, one on the bottom. Now, your inferior versions, they'll just take one donut, split it right down the middle. Mmm-mm." He shook his head and clicked his tongue, pointing to the work of art. "Boom." He blew a kiss and leaned back in his chair.

Sam's mouth quirked. "Alright, well, uh, I hope you enjoy it." He slid the tray back toward Dean, adding under his breath, "Wow."

Dean stared at his brother in disbelief, started to gesture to the other bag and the second burger he had brought, then let out an exasperated noise. "You know there are starving children out there."

Sam raised his palms in defense. "Dude, I'm not gonna survive hundreds of monster attacks to get flatlined by some double donut monstrosity—"

"The Elvis!" Dean corrected sharply, just as his phone started to ring.

"Whatever!" Sam rejoined.

Mentally grousing about his younger brother's utter disregard for the finer things in life, Dean fished his cell out of his pocket and looked at the caller ID. Oh, this should be good.

"How many calories are in that thing?" Sam continued, but Dean ignored him and hit the answer key.

"Hey! Long time. Your Caddyshack review is way overdue."

He was greeted by an exaggerated huff that came standard on all emo teenagers. "I need your help. With a case."

No time for small talk, then. "Yeah, you got it. We're there." He hung up and looked over at Sam. "How do you feel about South Dakota?"

His brother's brows shot upward. "Was that Claire?"

"Yup." Dean picked up the Elvis and shoved a huge bite in his mouth. If they were gonna hit the road soon, he wanted to finish his burger first before it got soggy. "Sh sab theb's a case."

Sam's face scrunched up as Dean tried to talk around his mouthful. "Okay, uh, you gonna tell Cas?"

Dean chewed thoughtfully. Cas had been binge watching Netflix for the past week, barely leaving the room they'd set him up in. He'd been "healing" after Rowena's curse did a number on him, but surely he was ready to get back in the game by now. Dean wondered what Claire would say if they brought Cas along. Not that she'd mentioned not wanting to see the angel, and Dean thought they'd parted amicably the last time, despite them failing to save Claire's mom. Besides, Cas would want to know how Claire was doing.

Dean swallowed and set his burger down with a sigh. "Yeah, I'll go tell him."

He briefly considered taking Sam's rejected burger and offering it to the angel, but Cas would probably diss it too. Did no one else in the bunker have good taste?

Dean gave the Elvis a longing look before regretfully pushing out of his chair and heading down to the dormitory wing. He reached Cas's door, which was open a crack, the flickering blue luminescence of an LED screen filling the darkened space.

Dean rapped his knuckles on the door before pushing it open. Cas sat crosslegged on the bed, his trench coat and suit jacket draped over the desk chair. For a guy who was supposedly healing, he had dark circles under his bloodshot eyes. Dean frowned at Cas's state and lack of response. Okay, this was bordering on unhealthy.

He cleared his throat and switched on the desk lamp. Cas flinched at the intrusive light, which really wasn't all that bright to begin with.

"Dean," the angel said, voice rougher than usual.

"Cas." He flicked his gaze to the laptop perched on the dresser. "Daytime television, really? I thought we were past this crap."

"It's mind-numbing."

"Yeah, that's why we need to say no to it." Dean grabbed the remote off the mattress and hit the pause button. "Listen, Sam and I have a case."

Cas kept his glazed eyes glued to the screen. "Okay."

Dean shifted his weight. Maybe he shouldn't say anything if Cas wasn't up to a hunt. Although…it also looked like the dude seriously needed to get out for a bit.

"Claire called, said there's a monster in Sioux Falls. Sam and I are gonna head over and check it out."

Cas finally jerked his head up. "What kind of monster?"

Dean shrugged. "Don't know. I'll get the deets when we arrive. So, uh…you wanna come with?"

Cas's brow furrowed, and his mouth pressed into a tight line. Slowly, he scooted off the bed. "Should we leave now? You don't think Claire will try to hunt this thing on her own, do you?"

Dean held up his hands. "Whoa, whoa, calm down. She called for help, remember?" He did not mention that the last time they'd seen Claire, Dean had let her take the Grigori sword and slipped her an Enochian lore book, thereby indirectly encouraging her to hunt. But it was for her own protection. Once a civilian learned about the things that went bump in the night, it was hard not to run into them.

"Me and Sam will pack our gear and we'll be on the road soon," Dean said.

Cas seemed momentarily appeased by that, and moved to the chair to grab his suit jacket and coat. Dean resigned himself to enjoying the Elvis some other time.

Castiel fidgeted in the backseat of the Impala. He couldn't understand his uneasiness; he'd ridden in the car with the Winchesters countless times before, had even come to enjoy it. Now, however, his heart rate was higher than normal and his nerves felt frayed to the point he was wound tighter than Fate's loom.

The passing landscape, which at one time had been soothing to watch fly by, now only made Castiel more anxious. Shapes would pop in his peripheral vision, setting off internal alarms that they might be under attack. But it would just be a tree branch extending across the edge of the highway, or a power line sweeping overhead.

Castiel was beginning to regret leaving the bunker. The darkness of the bedroom with the distraction of the television had provided an anesthetized mental shroud Castiel hadn't realized he needed.

He tried to focus on something else, like Claire. It'd been a while since he'd checked up on her…since he'd failed to save Amelia, actually. It wasn't that Castiel was intentionally neglecting her; no, he truly wanted to look out for the girl whose life he was responsible for ruining, though Claire had made it clear that she thought she could look after herself. Theirs was a…complicated relationship.

Castiel knew this, yet it still stung slightly that Claire had reached out to Dean for help instead of him. He couldn't really blame her, though. Castiel hadn't exactly been reachable while dealing with the Mark of Cain, and then afterward he'd been under the attack dog spell. If Claire had needed him at some point during those times…he wouldn't have been available to even answer. And if he had…if he'd gone to her…

A flash of Dean's bloody and swollen face appeared before his eyes. Castiel flinched as he felt the crack of bone under his knuckles. A red haze fell over his vision like a curtain, and in the next instant, it wasn't that poor, nameless woman he saw himself chasing through that warehouse. It was Claire.

Castiel sucked in a sharp breath and squeezed his eyes shut. No, no, no…

"Cas, you okay?" Sam's voice sounded far away as though underwater, but Castiel desperately tried to latch onto it.

He pried his eyes open and stared at his lap. There was no blood on his hands and clothes. The rumble of the Impala's engine vibrated along the chassis and up through the seats, chasing away the last echoes of screaming.

"Cas?" Sam said again, and he finally looked up to meet the hunter's worried gaze. Dean was also throwing him furtive looks in the rearview mirror.

"I'm fine," he managed to get out.

Sam's frown deepened as though he didn't believe him. "You sure?"

Castiel drew his shoulders back. "Yes." He gritted his teeth when Sam exchanged a silent look with Dean. If it wasn't already too late, he would have changed his mind about coming on this case. But he was here, and without wings or wheels of his own, he couldn't go back to the safety of the bunker.

Besides, this was Claire. Castiel could pull himself together for her.

They finally pulled up to Jody Mills's house. It looked quiet, set across the street from a park. Castiel had never met the Sheriff, but Sam and Dean trusted her, and Castiel thought this seemed like a good place for Claire to get her life back on track.

The three of them exited the car and walked up to the front door. Dean knocked. A few seconds later, the door swung inward, revealing Claire. Her hair was down in a more comely style than the one-sided cornrows she'd had before, and she was wearing 'hunter plaid' as the Winchesters sometimes called it. She looked good, though still wore the mascara a little thick.

Her expression slackened for a moment when she saw Castiel, but it was quickly covered up with an air of aloofness. "Oh, you came too."

Castiel glanced at the Winchesters, who were exchanging awkward looks. He cleared his throat. "Of course. Dean said you needed help with a case."

Claire gave a begrudging nod, and opened the door further. "Yeah. Come in and I'll tell you about it." She moved away and into the adjoining living room. Sam, Dean, and Castiel filed in behind her.

"Claire," Castiel said, before they could get down to business. "How are you?"

She crossed her arms. "Fine. Except there's a monster in the woods."

"What evidence do you have?" Sam asked.

"A guy was found dead, his throat ripped out."

Dean's brows rose. "Just one? Uh, okay. Why don't you start from the beginning?"

Claire opened her mouth to explain, but was interrupted by the door squeaking open and two women walking in with grocery bags.

"Well, there goes the neighborhood," the older brunette greeted.

Castiel was certain that was meant to be a negative saying, but her tone was cheerful.

Sam moved to give the woman a hug. "Jody." He pulled back and reached for the grocery bags. "Hey, let me help you out."

"Oh, thank you." She passed her load off to Sam, and then waved Dean over. "Come here."

"It has been too long," Dean said, engulfing her in a fervent hug.

"Yeah, clearly it's been too long," Sam said, turning to the girl who'd come in with the Sheriff. "'Cause Alex, that is you, right?"

The young woman rolled her eyes, much the way Castiel had seen Claire do. Must be a teenager thing.

"I don't look that different," she huffed.

"It's amazing what you can accomplish when you spend two hours in the bathroom every morning," Claire groused.

"Since when are you even up in the morning?" Alex retorted. "I'm surprised you're awake now."

"Hey!" Jody interjected sharply. "I'm pretty sure the guys didn't come here to watch you two kill each other." She finally looked Castiel's way. "And this is…?"

"Castiel," he hurried to say. "I'm, uh…" he glanced at Claire, not sure how to introduce himself.

Jody's eyes widened, and she flicked an uncertain look at the girl as well, then back to him. "You're the angel who…"

Castiel ducked his gaze. "Um, yes."

"Cas is cool," Sam chimed in.

"Right," Jody said, still eyeing him cautiously. "So is everything okay? I didn't accidentally butt dial you or anything, did I?"

"I called," Claire put in. "About the monster. That you refuse to believe is a monster." With that, the teen swept out of the living room. Castiel wasn't sure whether he should follow or not.

"Oh—you gotta be kidding." Jody let out a frustrated sound. "You know, if you'd checked in with me, I could have saved you a trip," she told the Winchesters.

Dean waved it off. "Well, we figured we owed you a visit."

Jody canted her head for a moment. "And you know what, actually," she said, tone changing from exasperated to pleased. "I could use the backup." She took the grocery bags back from Sam. "Let me have that. I'm gonna put another chicken on. You settle in."

Dean's mouth moved as she strode off toward the kitchen. "…You might wanna make it two, or…yeah."

Sam nodded heartily.

Castiel furrowed his brow. "What do you suppose she needs backup for, if she doesn't believe there's a monster?"

The boys paused, then shrugged.

"Dunno," Dean said. "But if there's food involved, I'm in."

Castiel looked toward the hallway where Claire had disappeared through. Part of him wanted to go after her and…he wasn't sure what. Console her? Find out what was really going on? Well, he supposed there would be time for that later, and perhaps Claire needed some privacy right now.

The Winchesters settled on the couches and started talking excitedly under their breaths about eating "real food" for dinner. Castiel didn't like the inactivity. It left room for…unpleasant things. And since the television wasn't an option here, he had to find another means of distraction. Clanging pots in the kitchen drew his attention, and after a moment, Castiel took a fortifying breath and made his way into that part of the house.

The aroma of rosemary and thyme hit his senses when he entered the kitchen, and he surveyed the pots of mashed potatoes and beans on the stove, the seasonings on the counter, and the chicken in the oven. Castiel found himself feeling completely out of his element.

Jody glanced up at him. "You need something?"

"I, uh, was wondering if you needed help." He gazed dubiously at the various cooking items, regretting coming in at all; there was no way for him to be useful here.

Jody gave him a sympathetic smile. "How about you set the table."

Castiel perked up. "Oh, yes. I can do that." He took a step forward, only to hesitate.

Jody seemed to understand, and cocked her head over her shoulder. "Top cabinet on the left."

Castiel maneuvered around the woman and found the plates where she'd indicated. He pulled out five, thought better of it, and grabbed a sixth. Though he didn't need to eat, and food didn't exactly taste as scrumptious as it had when he'd been human, he didn't want to be rude. He could force a few bites down, even if they tasted like molecules.

Though, part of him was afraid they wouldn't. He'd been so weakened after Rowena's spell, and his grace hadn't been whole to begin with when he'd gotten it back from Metatron…Castiel could very well be closer to human these days.

"How is Claire doing?" he tentatively asked.

Jody shook her head as she stirred the potatoes. "Well, she started college, but she hasn't been to classes for weeks. She doesn't have any friends. She spends all her time trolling for cases and reading lore."

Castiel tensed. "What? Claire is hunting?"

"I've got nothing against it," Jody said as a caveat. "But if she's hiding in it because she doesn't have anything else? I'm just…worried about her being so alone."

Castiel's heart fell. It was his fault Claire had no one, no family to look after her…but then, that last part wasn't exactly true, now was it?

"Thank you for taking her in," he said earnestly.

Jody sighed. "I'm not her mom. I don't have that kind of history with her."

Castiel nodded in understanding. "And I'm not her father."

Jody set the wooden spoon down and turned to consider him. "I can't even begin to understand this whole convoluted situation between you and her and her real dad. But…I think you care about her. And she doesn't seem to outright hate you."

"She has every right to hate me," he rejoined.

Jody waved him off. "Trust me, take what you can get." She switched the oven off and began sliding the chickens out. "And who knows, maybe she'll listen to you about not hunting. You and the Hardy Boys."

Castiel wasn't sure about that, but he would try.

Jody glanced over at him. "You gonna set that table, or what? Dinner's almost ready."

Castiel started, but relaxed when he realized her tone was only mildly chiding. He found the drawer of silverware and collected the necessary items, then carried everything into the dining room. It would prove to be an interesting evening.