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Although Claire had, grudgingly, given up the Grigori sword when she'd first arrived, and even though she had eventually stopped sulking about it and even quit looking for ways to bring it up in conversation, she had never stopped thinking about the weapon. For while she did understand why Castiel had taken it from her, and while it was true she hadn't needed it to date, in her mind the sword was still very much hers. It had felt that way since the moment she'd stabbed the original owner with it and the feeling that she was missing something, a piece of her, had never quite gone away after it had been placed out of her reach.

Chewing absently on her lower lip, she cast a quick look around the room. She'd asked Adam for somewhere that she and Castiel could practice without any interruptions. Somewhere that they couldn't break anything or would draw any unwanted attention. The kid had more than delivered on her request, she had to admit.

The building was on the edge of town, near a rock quarry. On the outside, it looked just as abandoned and run down as any old factory might. On the inside, however, it was absolutely pristine, with no signs of anything industrial whatsoever. The floor was padded, as were the walls. It almost resembled a gymnasium of sorts, but far more sparse. The potential to add more areas, though - a corner with a punching bag, and maybe some targets for knife throwing practice - well, Claire could almost picture it.

With a shake of her head, she returned to attention to the here and now. The idea was a fun one to consider but not now. No, right now, they had to prepare for whatever was brewing on the horizon, which meant she needed to take this seriously and really focus on learning how to use her sword without cutting off her own foot or something.

That is, if Castiel ever showed up. It wasn't like him to be late. Claire glanced at her watch then sighed. Ok, so maybe he wasn't late. Maybe she was a little early. By almost an hour. In her defense, she really was anxious to get started.

"Right," she muttered as she began pulling her hair up into a ponytail, "well, might as well stretch out a bit while I wait. Nobody likes pulled muscles."

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Castiel blinked, then offered a small smile. "I am glad to see you approach our sessions with such enthusiasm. And given our... new lifestyle, I appreciate that you've maintained an interest in this outside of deadly necessity."

He drew the Grigori sword--her sword, really--and handed it over to her.

Fighting as a hobby... yet another thing he would never have been able to imagine a few years ago.

"All right. Basic strikes first." He drew his own weapon. "Chest, shoulder, left lower quadrant. I want to see you follow through each one. Don't let up and rush to the next move when I parry. Fully commit to each action."

Nothing she hadn't heard before, of course, but it seemed to bear repeating with her excitement this high. She was ready to move on to more complex maneuvers but he didn't want her so caught up in moving forward that it affected her form.

Although still excited, Claire's grin immediately disappeared when he handed her the sword. As her hand wrapped around its hilt, she felt the same familiar feeling she always did when she held it. It felt right, somehow. The overhead lights reflected off the blade and her gaze traveled along its sharp edge, brow only furrowing slightly at the sight of the Grigori's name that it had once belonged to engraved upon it in Enochian.

With a slight shake of her head to refocus, she faced Castiel and nodded as his instructions. Then she readied herself. Shoulders squared, feet the appropriate distance apart to help with balance, and her weapon held before her just as he'd shown her to brandish it. "Okay, here goes," she stated and, with that, she began to strike out just as he'd said.

For a bit, there wasn't much beyond the sounds of weapons clashing and give-and-take of the padded mat beneath them as they moved. After a few strikes, though, Claire found herself curious.

"So have you talked to Adam lately?"

Claire was a quick study, and he was finding her an exceptionally driven student. Her level of energy and dedication almost reminded him more of home than earth. Dean's decision to leave it with her may have been more impulsive than informed, but it was proving more justifiable every time she picked up the blade.

If she was this serious about her instruction, she might benefit more from having access to it outside just when he was around.

"You make great strides every lesson," he told her as she stepped back momentarily. "I'm impressed. Perhaps it's time you had a little greater freedom."

Her question about Adam made him pause a moment. "The boy has been uncharacteristically reserved lately," he said. "Almost moody. But, your father says he is 'getting to be about that age.'" He frowned. "I'm not sure of the exact age he is referring to, but it seems to be enough of an explanation. Is there a specificpoint at which young people become completely inscrutable?"

God knew he'd always found Laura to be so. And Claire too, at times.

Absently wiping the sweat from her brow, Claire nodded at his answer. She had figured as much. Adam had been pretty torn up when he's come to chat with her a few days prior. He'd asked her to stay silent on the matter, to give him a chance to figure if there was a way out besides going to war. She wasn't going to hold her breath but she was going to respect his wishes and stay quiet. For now, at least. Although she did send out a silent thought aimed for the Antichrist.

Time is almost up, kid. They can both help and you know it. Time to grow a pair.

Out loud, to Castiel, she just replied, "Pretty sure it kicks in when puberty does." A pause then she tacked on, "And greater freedom? Really?" She grinned.

"Sweet."

Edited 2018-07-27 01:58 (UTC)

"I believe you're ready for more advanced lessons, and I don't think it reasonable that you should only get to practice properly when I happen to be home. Learning form is one thing, but to master using the weapon, you will need to become intimately familiar with it. Learn its weight and dimensions so well that it becomes like a part of you. And practicing with a prop store stand-in won't allow you to do that."

It was a more lengthy explanation than he tended to give for a decision this simple, but his reasoning in this particular matter needed to be carefully outlined. Not necessarily for her ears right now, but absolutely for her fathers' once she got home. The Halloween store prop "practice" sword had been Jimmy's idea of an interim compromise, and he wasn't sure how he'd react to a change in plans.

"Given your level of dedication, it seems pointless to continue to withhold what would best help you to develop. You may take the sword home with you today. It's yours now, entirely." He gave her a stern look. "But you are not to store it in a mattress."

Humans liked to put important things in mattresses. It was weird.

For a few seconds, Claire was convinced he was joking. Nevermind that Castiel didn't really joke and she was about a billion percent sure he'd definitely never do so when it came to something this serious. Not for an angel who had literally been a soldier since his creation.

"Are you-" No. No way. She bit down on her excitement as best she could but her eyes definitely lit up a little. "Are you serious?" She glanced at the sword still in her grasp and swallowed. Yes, she knew, if Adam's fears were realized, her having the sword might literally save her life some day.

Castiel didn't know about the threat, though. Not yet. Which meant he was actually making this offer solely because of her. Because he trusted she was responsible enough. Unable to help it, she let out a squeal of delight.

"Yes! Thank you!" She paused, in mild confusion, then decided it didn't matter. "And I won't keep it in my mattress. Cross my heart." She even made the 'X' across her chest with her free hand before grinning wildly down at the sword once more. It was finally, finally, going to be back with her where it belonged, and it was all because of her hard work.

Looking back to Castiel, her grin faded a little as something finally occurred to her. "You know my dad is probably going to freak, right?" Not that it mattered. Well. That wasn't true. It mattered, of course it did, but no way was she backing down this time. She couldn't help it. She grinned again. "But he'll come around. I'm sure of it."

After all, it isn't like she stole it or something. Castiel had given it to her, fair and square. And he said she needed to get used to it. To make it an extension of herself. Right. That meant she probably should stop acting like a kid on Christmas and get back to training.

"So." She arched an eyebrow, her grin turning into a playful smirk. "Ready to get back to sparring?"

"Quite serious." Serious, but smiling, albeit in the odd way of angels, more a shifting, softening, warming of the expression without fully cracking a smile. It was nice to be the cause of happiness for her. "You've done well, and I am proud of you."

He paused a moment, eyebrows arching briefly. "Your father... has his reasons for being apprehensive." And Castiel was the last person who had a right to criticize it, given his role in shaping them, however unintentionally. More than that, after the house, he had a better understanding of that kind of helpless nervousness than ever. "But he will understand. He knows you are responsible girl. Young woman."

To that end, they should indeed return to the lesson at hand. "I am ready. Let's see you block, now. Start from on guard and block high when I move. We'll go round the clock four times, then we can start work on riposte mechanics. Begin."

Always careful to scale his speed down to something manageable for a human, he raised his own blade and attacked.

Instantly her mind clicked back to their first lesson, when Castiel had painstakingly taught her the proper terminology, and she automatically raised the sword in front of her. Making sure to keep it up so it was guarding her right shoulder, she waited for him to attack.

The moment he was upon her - and boy, was she grateful he always kept in mind that she could not move as quickly as he could - she raised the weapon above her head and turned it horizontal. As soon as he'd connected, she immediately shifted so that the blade was now in front of her opposite shoulder. Then it was just a matter of pointing the sword downward to defend her gut then further still for her leg, only to return to her original stance and begin anew.

This was the part she'd really been working on, during her spare time. Trying to make the sword move as smoothly as possible while training her muscles to recognize each position and hold them firm. There wasn't room for error when it came to this stuff. An inch or two off center and it could, in a real battle, end badly for her. So every chance she'd had, she'd gone through the motions much like a cheerleader practicing a routine. When cooking breakfast, the spatula was her "sword". When walking down the street, it was a stick. Anywhere, any time, even without something to fill in for the weapon, she'd practiced until she could do the moves in her sleep.

"You know," she commented idly, only slightly breathless and making sure not to miss her mark as she spoke, "it might not be a bad idea for my dad to learn some of this kind of stuff, too. Or at least some kind of way to defend himself in case..." She had no way to finish that, not without risking spilling Adam's proverbial beans. Seriously. That kid had better speak up soon. She swept aside his blade, using her own blade to push his away before returning to her on guard stance. "Well, just in case it's ever needed."

Not the best of reasons but it would have to do.

As she went through block after block, Castiel kept an eye on the smaller things, the angle of her blade as she moved it, which positions she put the most strength behind her guard. The difference was one of a few degrees, but it would inform the next phase of instruction. Ideally she should start with movements that came the most naturally to her and build on that foundation.

Her suggestion came as a surprise. "I suppose it wouldn't," he said. "Though I wouldn't know where to start, in his case. We no longer share a body--nor a weapon. Has he expressed interest in this?"

She really should have thought before opening her mouth. She should have known the minute she brought up her dad learning how to fight, of all things, that there was no way she was going to be able to continue the conversation without doing one of two things. Either she had to lie (or at least skirt around the truth in a really sneaky way) or she was going to have to betray Adam's confidence and bring Castiel up to speed.

Claire was a lot of things, but she'd never been a liar and didn't intend to start now. She was, however, an expert at gleaming just enough facts from a situation to use to her advantage while also avoiding confessing everything she knew. It was a skill that had come in handy when she had been in the group home, and one she quickly fell back on now.

So, as she performed another block, she replied as casually as possible.

"No, he hasn't. But I don't think being prepared is a bad thing." Another block. "Maybe not a sword but just something. It couldn't hurt." She blinked, swallowed, then tacked on, "And I know Adam is powerful, and has promised he's going to keep us safe but he's also just a kid. A kid that's basically defying God at every turn and making up his own rules as he goes along. If it does blow up in his face, I don't want my dad to get hurt in the crossfire and you can't always be there to protect him, now."

There. It was as close as she was getting to hinting that Something Was Amiss without stating it outright. Bringing her positioning back to on guard once more, she waited for his next instructions.

Castiel considered the suggestion a moment. There were a number of factors at work, but it was ultimately what she said about Adam and his choices that determined his decision. "You're right. We should be prepared. Defiance--continual defiance--without caution or planning practically invites disaster."

Learned that one the hard way. Several times over.

He paused at the last block. "Now I want you to learn to sequence your actions. While I plan to instruct you on all forms of riposte, we should begin with what feels most natural to you. On your high guard, your blade is angles slightly away from you. You will move more naturally into a counter strike under your opponent's blade. Right shoulder guard now--"

He moved his own blade in a deliberately slow arc, a slow-motion review to focus her on the smaller details of her movements.

Claire blinked, blinked a second time, then slowly began to grin. "Did you just say I was actually right?" she teased. "I'll have to mark the date on my calendar."

Then they were back on her lesson and she focused once more, nodding when he'd finished. Automatically she slid into a right shoulder guard position. She inhaled slowly, exhaled equally as slow, then tried to do as he'd instructed.

And fell just short of the mark.

A grunt of frustration passed her lips at the same time as she scowled. So far, swordplay had come fairly naturally to her. Yes, it had taken hard work and practice, but she'd never faced being unable to do as instructed - albeit sometimes poorly - on the first try. Until now.

"Okay," she commented, shaking off her self-irritation. "Thinking I should probably try that again."

One day he would be able to tease her back with the same casual lightness, at least he hoped so. Today, however, was not that day, and all he could come up with after "Yes--" was "it is a notable event." Which didn't even qualify as observational humor.

Better luck next time, the Winchesters would have said.

"It will take some adjustment," he told her, sensing her frustration. "You are used to attack and defense being distinct processes. But in an actual fight it's all one. Your defense creates an opportunity for an attack, and you attack to defend yourself. You've mastered the individual moves, the transition between them will become easier with repetition. Try again."

Claire nodded in understanding and once again resumed the right shoulder guard position. She would get this figured out; she wasn't worried about that. It was just going to take practice, like Castiel said. So practice she would.

The second attempt wasn't perfect, not by a long shot, but she managed to do better than the first try. She also could see what Castiel had explained, or rather feel what he had explained. The transition was something she was just going to have to get used to doing. And if the second time felt a little more natural than the first, eventually it would become as second nature to her as breathing. She just had to get there.

"Okay," she admitted, "that time wasn't as bad, at least. But I'm not going to lie. Part of me gets why this became a lost art. It's a whole lot easier to learn how to aim a gun and squeeze a trigger." She paused then quickly added, "Not that I want to do that instead. I'm just saying..."

Anything else she was going to say was cut off by the sound of the door opening. Turning to glance, Claire felt her stomach drop sharply at the sight of Dog trotting into the room. Not because she had an issue with the mutt. She actually had grown pretty fond of him, truth be told. However, if Dog was there, that meant so was Adam. Which could only mean one thing.

It was time.

With a soft sigh and a slight slump of her shoulders, Claire lowered her sword and turned to face the Antichrist as he stepped casually into the room. The boy, for his part, glance briefly at her before turning his attention to Castiel.

"Hello Castiel. Claire. I'm sorry to int'rupt," he said politely, but without the usual exuberance he normally possessed. "I asked Jimmy t'meet us here, too. I'd rather be at home, where it's loads more comfortable, but this is the only place I know is safe enough t'talk." He paused before adding almost ominously, "And I reckon that's somethin' we need t'do sooner, 'stead of later. Talk, I mean."

"It's about freaking time," was all Claire could think to reply.

Adam's request to talk hadn't set off immediate alarm bells. Early in their stay, they might have, or if the meeting were elsewhere, but with things so quiet for so long he was unlearning the tendency to pair curiosity with dread. And if Adam wanted to meet with him, Claire and Castiel in their training room... well, he had a feeling he knew what this talk was going to be about.

Claire wanted to keep her sword full-time. She had from the beginning, and the training--and her training sword--had been a sort of provisional compromise. But she was inevitably going to reach a point where she was familiar enough with it to not have it locked away out of reach like a child, and Castiel was going to reach a point where he would approve of returning it to her.

The thing was, he understood. And with as long, stable and uneventful as their stay in this universe had proven to be, he had none of his original apprehension on the matter. If something was going to happen, it would have. He knocked once on the doorframe as he entered, a pointless but habitual parent behavior.

"Hey," he greeted the three of them, looking from Castiel to Claire to the young Antichrist, taking in Claire's sure yet easy grip on her blade, Castiel's "proud godfather" look and Adam's slight discomfort. He laughed softly as he turned his gaze back to Claire.

"You know, you didn't have to call in reinforcements, honey," he told her. "If Castiel thinks you should get the sword back, that's good enough for me."

Claire's relief at the sight of Adam was exceptionally short lived when her dad entered the room. Not because of her dad specifically, of course, but rather because of the reason he thought they were there. Her smile was a small one but nevertheless loving as she met her dad's gaze.

"I'm not the one who called the meeting," she replied. "But Castiel did say I can hold onto the sword now. I just need to practice ripostes. A lot." She tipped her head toward Adam. "He's the one that needs to talk to you guys."

She wanted to say more. Maybe a preemptive apology for not having come clean immediately after Adam had confided in her. However, the boy interrupted, taking control of the floor without missing a beat. He'd told them, once, that his ability to do such a thing was just part of who he was. It went hand-in-hand with the charm he exuded that made people want to get close to him. He was, after all, created to rule the world. It was much easier to accomplish that if people felt drawn to him. Claire had to admit, it was a subtle way to ensure loyalty, but also was glad someone with Adam's personality - meaning, someone who wouldn't abuse the ability - was the one who possessed it.

"So what I've gotta say isn't all that pleasant," he began slowly. He looked from Jimmy, to Castiel, "And I want you both t'know that I made Claire swear she wouldn't say nothin', not even t'you two, 'til I was sure there wasn't any gettin' around it." He paused, gaze dropping as he sighed softly and tried to compose himself. After a second, he began again.

"I just got back from vistin' with Aziraphale and Crowley. I was hopin' the two of 'em might be able to figure somethin' out, but it's not looking all that great. And it don't seem real fair to make Claire keep quiet so..."

"Adam," Claire interrupted, voice soft but firm. "Just spit it out. They can handle it." She purposely didn't look at either her "godfather" or her actual father. She wasn't sure she could stand it.

With a slight nod, because he didn't like it but he knew she was right, Adam did just that.

"I had a meetin' with the Metatron and Beelzebub the other day. Not because I wanted to, mind, but it happened. And-" He stopped, unsure exactly how to say it. For what felt like the billionth time since that fateful meeting, Adam was almost overcome with guilt. "I'm real sorry. I didn't-"

With a heavy sigh, Claire cut him off. "Oh for the love of-" She turned to face Jimmy and Castiel. "When Adam gave you your own body, Castiel, and brought me here so I wasn't totally alone back home, apparently it went back on the terms of his agreement to stop the Apocalypse here." She wanted to stop there. Just full stop, and leave it at that. But that wasn't all there was to the story so she continued before she lost her nerve.

"And since we're not even from this reality, according to the Voice, God has decided to even the playing field a bit. So not only is the Apocalypse back on, there's a good chance both sides are going to also be yanking people from other places to here, too." She then turned to Adam, eyebrow arched in exasperation. "Did I miss anything? Because I get you're feeling guilty, kid, but they need to know what's up so we can prepare."

Unsure where to be grateful she'd been the one to explain, or irritated she'd done so, Adam settled for just answering. He knew she was just trying to help and, really, she was right. Best to just get it all out there. They were going to react however they were going to react; it didn't really matter how they found out, just that they did.

"That's the important stuff, at any rate," he said, looking positively ill with guilt. "And I'm real sorry, guys. I was just tryin' t'help..."

If it was just us, maybe it's reversible... It was a big thing Adam had done, yes, but it was a simple one. Castiel and Claire belonged in their world, he belonged in Heaven. It had been great to not be there, so much better than any of them had hoped for, but if it came down to them or the world, then the obvious choice was

"Couldn't you--"

Then he saw Claire, standing strong with an angel-forged sword with her only thought on how to move forward, defend herself, their family. She was ready to take on Heaven and Hell, and he'd left her to it once already, before she was half this prepared. It wasn't fair then, and it wasn't right now. He couldn't choose the world over her a second time.

He swallowed the suggestion. "Never mind. I'm sure you did everything you could, Adam. Our Powers that Be aren't renowned for being reasonable, I'm not surprised yours aren't too flexible either. I don't know how much good I'll be, but anything you need, I'm willing to try."

Castiel held out a hand to stop Jimmy's question before he reined it in himself.

"It doesn't matter what Adam does now. The issue isn't what he did anymore. It's that he did something at all. Obedience, order, measured consistency... that's all that matters in Heaven." His expression darkened. "Disorderly conduct is punished. It's How Things Are."

He'd promised to be good the first time he'd been disciplined, told them he'd learned his lesson, begged them to let him go because his vessel was calling for him, needed him. But they'd made it clear. He didn't decide when his punishment was over, they did, and he couldn't cut it short by falling back in line. They would let him go when they felt they'd made their point, and not before.

That hard-learned lesson had been behind most of his desperation when he was suddenly faced with the prospect of Round Two. Knowing the only choice was to fight, and feeling like he couldn't go to the family he'd come to rely on for help. But he had family already by his side, here. And an Antichrist to boot.

And of course God had decided to "even the playing field." He turned to Adam. "I can only apologize for my Father and his approach to Apocalypses. He only makes sense when He's Mother and He almost never is when you need Her." He took a breath. "As much as I hate hearing myself say this again--you said have friends on both sides. Could your Crowley help? And whoever else you may know, of course... I need to know our numbers to start with."

Adam didn't even have to consider Castiel's question. There wasn't any hesitation as he replied, "I've got Crowley and I've got Aziraphale. Crowley still has loads of contacts with Below, but he'll be the first t'warn you how they might not be so reliable, bein' demons and prone to lyin' and manipulatin' and all. And Aziraphale's not in such great standin' with Above but he's got a few who aren't so keen t'see things end who might be willin' t'help. If nothin' else, he's at least got his flaming sword. Considerin' it was the same sword used by Michael to toss Lucifer into Hell back in the day, I reckon it'll come in handy." He paused then quickly clarified, "And I'm talkin' a real, actual flaming sword, just so you know. None of that a person is actually the sword business like you're used to."

That was one thing that could be said about Adam's reality. At least it was mostly cut and dried. If it was described a certain way, that was usually the way it actually happened to be. Apparently this reality's version of the Almighty was a pretty literal one.

Next, the boy turned his attention to Jimmy. "And I offered t'send Claire back, when I first told her what was goin' on. She said no. I'm not gonna do it 'gainst her will and, like Castiel said, it won't matter if'n I did. I mean, it'd keep her safe from stuff here, but this is gonna happen."

He hated saying it, and made sure not to say it with absolute conviction just in case that's what God was waiting for in order to actually bring it to fruition. But he knew, in his gut, that it really was going to happen. The question was if they'd be prepared in time.

Sensing his Master's upset, Dog immediately padded to his side and nuzzled at his leg. Absently, the boy petted the mutt behind the ears while looking at the rest of the group as a whole. "We've also got the Them. Brian, Wensleydale, and Pepper might just be normal kids for the most part, but they were the ones who stopped the Horsepersons th'last time and they'll have my back no matter what. Plus we've got Anathema - she's not the greatest witch but she tries, and Newt. He's mostly just a regular human but he'll do what's right when it counts." Adam paused, considering the allies he'd had last time.

"That's mostly it, really," he finally, grudgingly, admitted. "Unless I drag some more folks here myself, that is."

There was silence for a heartbeat before Claire finally broke it with a question that Adam had to admit he never would have considered himself.

"What about the Horsemen themselves?"

Claire looked from her dad, to Castiel, then back to Adam. "I mean, I know you stopped the ones from here, last time, but God's going to have to bring in, or create, or whatever, some new ones if He's going to follow the plan, right? The Apocalypse here equals Antichrist and Horsemen. You're supposed to lead them. So, when they come calling this time around, why not just lead them on the side of humanity?"

She knew she sounded a little insane. Mostly that was due to the idea forming as she was speaking. However, the more Claire thought about it, the more she realized she might be on to something. A glance at Adam told her that he was also considering what she was saying so she kept the thought going.

"Like, make it so War can cause the demons and angels to fight among themselves. Will it so they'll affect Above and Below, and aid humans, instead of the other way around. Stuff like that."

Then, without missing a beat, her attention snapped to her dad. "And dad, I love you more than anything, and I know you don't condone violence, and I get it. I do. But you have to learn how to fight. Maybe not swords like me, but something. Please."

Jimmy needed a minute to process everything that had been unloaded in the last couple of minutes. He chose to spend that time marveling at Claire, at her composure and quick thinking. Part of him wanted to ask if she'd had a backup plan going this whole time and just never said anything.

"That... sounds like it might work. Actually." It was a lot like Rei had explained managing the House. It had its own agenda, and it was going to see that shit went down, but there were sometimes ways to see that when it did, it was on your own terms. "If we can't control what happens, we could still have a shot at shaping how it happens." He paused, then scratched at the back of his neck. Maybe getting a little ahead of himself there. "Not... that I know how things work here, entirely."

He agreed completely with the suggestion that he needed a way to defend himself. "No, I understand completely. I'm pretty useless in a fight." He knew how to flee, barricade and wait for help. That was about it. "I don't know what to try to learn, is the only thing." He looked over at Adam. "I guess it depends on the kind of attacks we'd be expecting?"

Castiel blinked. Claire was onto something. His Horsemen had, like his Antichrist, been agents of chaos assigned to Lucifer. Three hadn't minded the assignment all that much, but the fourth...

"We had help from Death, in our world. He resented being conscripted to Lucifer's service. Wanted his autonomy restored. Dean negotiated an alliance over deep dish pizza. It would be to our advantage not to assume blind--or at least not unconditional--loyalty to The Plan in the key players here."

He couldn't help but appreciate Adam's comment. "Attached as I am to the sword of Michael in my world, I have to admit relief at not having to argue with yours."

Edited 2018-08-01 00:03 (UTC)

Adam's gaze slid to Dog for a moment when the mutt let out a low whine. Talks of Death always made the hellhound turned squirrel chaser nervous. Next, Adam dropped into a kneel to be closer to his familiar's level. His brow furrowed as he considered all that had been said, and the best way to address it while soothingly petting Dog. After a moment of contemplation, he looked back to the ragtag group of veritable refugees he'd come to consider family.

"Well," he said slowly, "Death is the only Horseperson that we didn't put an end to, that day. He told me I couldn't. I begged t'differ. He 'cided t'leave before I could prove it." He stood up once again, the frown lines he wore fading and a determined look taking front and center. "Way I see it, 'less he wants t'go round two, and I don't much think he does, he might just come 'round."

He centered his attention briefly to Jimmy. "As so far as how the fightin' here is gonna go, I can't rightly say," he explained. Blue eyes shone with wisdom past his years. "If'n I guess at it, it might become real and, well, let's just say it's best my 'magination don't take over 'gain." Rocking back on his heels, he slid his hands into the back pockets of his jeans and blew out a harsh puff of air.

"I think basic fightin' and self defense, if'n only t'start," he finally added, almost as an afterthought. "Who knows? Maybe you'll have some kinda hidden talent or somethin'." Suddenly he straightened and clapped his hands together lightly. "Right. So I reckon I'm gonna see if'n I can track down Death. Get him t'swing by and pay me a visit." He said it in an absolutely carefree tone, his smile brilliant as he already began thinking about how he was going to manage everything he'd just said.

The entire time everyone else had been talking, Claire's mind had been running a mile a minute. Plan after potential plan was formulated, each one analyzed and discarded for some flaw or another. Anyone she could think of that Adam might be able to bring in to help. Anything she'd read, or seen.

The problem was, she decided, she didn't have enough experience. She'd only just decided to become a hunter, back home, before winding up in the House. She didn't really have any time under her belt. And while she'd stayed in shape since being in her current reality, and had certainly come a long way with swordplay, it was only practice. Pretend. The only way she'd thought it would be needed was if she ever went back home.

Her next thought hit her like a bolt of lightning and she immediately spoke, stopping Adam in his tracks.

"Hold up. Before you go out hunting Death, there's something you should probably do, first." She drew in a deep breath and looked toward first her dad then Castiel, hesitating for a heartbeat. What she was about to say next wasn't something she'd ever wanted to tell either of them. But it was important, and could help in the long run, so her wants took a back burner for the time being and she pressed on.

"A while back, Adam and I were talking. I asked him if he could sort of... look, into our old reality. See if I was even still alive back home." She didn't want to discuss the emotions tied into her request. Or how his answer had helped shape her decision to get serious and focus on learning how to at least use that Grigori sword. "Anyway, the answer is yes, for the record. And I'm hunting there. I'm actually pretty good at it, from what he says. I didn't want specifics. Not then."

With a deep breath, she tacked on, "But now, I think maybe I do. Maybe I should get brought up to speed. If it'll help. Will it?"

Adam considered the question for a moment. He didn't only think about whether what Claire had learned to do, had been taught by seasoned hunters to do, would be of assistance in the coming battle. He also thought about whether he was overstepping some bounds if he did what he'd once so brazenly offered to do with zero thought of consequence. Truth be told, he didn't particularly care. He knew the answer.

He nodded.

Castiel nodded. "His candor regarding the untrustworthiness of demons is sign enough of his goodwill at this point. If he were promising he could make them behave, then I would be worried. I think... I will have to meet your Crowley, finally. I'm sure he is his own demon, and it is time I put these fears and suspicions behind me permanently."

He looked over at Jimmy. "I can teach you some rudimentary lessons of self-defense. Claire is well enough versed in these things to help with that, as well. The loss of my powers in the first round taught me a great deal about improvisation. I would be happy to pass the knowledge on."

Claire's suggestion was unexpected, and it was hard not to think about asking after the Winchesters. Rei. Rachel. Where they had gone, what they were doing. How they were doing. He had formed and re-formed such strong bonds, but that was the past. And unlike Claire's, it was unlikely to help them now.

"Sounds like Death is a good start, then." Jimmy tried unsuccessfully to force down the kind of irrational nervous smile very frightened people give when a situation has flown completely out of their hands. Death, a good start. Almost funny... right?

He nodded absently to Castiel, trying to imagine himself actually fighting. Improvising weapons. Could you really make a blowtorch with a lighter and hairspray, or was that a Hollywood exaggeration?

He was thrown by the conversation between Adam and Claire, however. "Up to speed? On what you've been doing? Will that really--"

He stopped. It was Adam. He probably could communicate learned skills as well as events, if he was motivated enough.

Truth be told, Adam had wondered if he was going to have to force the issue of Castiel learning to get along with Crowley. He had tried to be patient and give the angel some time but, unfortunately, that was now a precious commodity. Fortunately, Castiel realized the same and volunteered to meet the demon, even going so far as to admit he needed to set his preconceived notions aside so they could work together.

Feeling as though a weight had been lifted, if only a little, the boy couldn't help but grin. The expression grew even more when Jimmy finally spoke up. It was obvious the man was trying despite being pretty far out of his comfort zone. It was one of his more endearing qualities.

"Way I see it," Adam finally spoke up, turning his focus to Claire, "You might want t'sit down." He waited patiently for her to do so. While waiting, he thought about how, exactly, he was going to pull off her idea. It was a good idea, of course. He wouldn't be doing it otherwise. But it also was going to be a little tricky. A mixture of words and intentions, coupled with a bit of action that might or might not get him another celestial warning.

Ultimately, though, he knew the risk was worth it. Claire could deal with the emotional backlash, he was sure of that, and he could handle anything else. Besides. Maybe they'd learn something of real use, down the road. The Winchesters were pretty good at saving the world, from what he could tell.

When Claire was finally seated, Adam drew in a breath then got to work. "Way I see it," he continued, "whatever it is that's happened since you were last home, you should know about now, if'n you know 'bout it there. All the stuff you've learned, all the things you've done, the stories you've heard from other hunters, any and all of it. Right now."

And with a slight hand movement that was both intricately complex yet quite simplistic, Adam caused reality to temporarily change.

In the few seconds that followed Adam's toying with reality, nothing seemed to really happen. Yes, the non-humans present could feel reality shift slightly but there wasn't anything tangible. No proof he'd done anything.

Ten seconds later, however, was another story entirely.

It hit Claire like a ton of bricks. One minute she was fine and the next, she felt herself falling backward as though the memories had literally hit her in the face. They hadn't, of course, but her mind was not capable of keeping her muscles working so she could stay upright while simultaneously trying to absorb years worth of knowledge.

Then it was over. Claire laid perfectly still for a few more moments, simply focusing on her breathing. Once she was sure she could manage that much, she reopened her eyes. Finally, she sat back up.

"Okay," she breathed out, "first off." She looked at Adam. "Next time, less trying to melt my brain at once, please. I get time is of the essence but seriously." Then she looked to her father and Castiel. "And I'll share with the class just as soon as I can get my brain to stop throbbing. Promise."

Because seriously. Ow.

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