(no subject)

[usedtopray]

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."

Comments

[poetryforfish]

If you'd asked Castiel ten years ago where he saw himself ending up right about now, "in another reality in a spare, made-to-order body courtesy of the local Antichrist" would not have been the answer. If you'd asked him five years ago what he even was at that point, let alone this, the best he could have done would have been "different than I used to be." Dean and Sam had shown him he could be his own person, but it had taken separation to learn exactly who that newly independent person was supposed to be.

As different as it was, he liked being it. His ministry back home had begun as a necessity, but he'd come to enjoy it, and when it ended he'd missed it. Being a prophet gave a person a different sort of satisfaction than being a soldier, but it was no less gratifying.

Here, of course, he preached to humans rather than angels, one at a time instead of in large groups. But the work was the same, and the cause was the same. Free will--or, perhaps more specifically, the art and science of using it fully. It had taken a lot of talking with all three of his family here to really get a handle on Adam's concept of choice without conscious choice, but now that he had mastered it, he was making significant strides.

So was Claire. And even though her interest in weapons and fighting--one weapon in particular--hadn't diminished, he was okay with it. Besides, it was something they could share. It was an important element in being a family, and he was dedicated to her and her father as family. Besides, godfathers were supposed to teach and provide guidance as well as alternate shelter in case of emergencies, and that was the closest thing any of them had been able to come up with for what he was now.

Godfathers were also supposed to be punctual, but today it had taken a little longer to find an unwatched corner he could duck into to teleport out to their training grounds. He appeared in the south corner of the room, looking slightly apologetic.

"Sorry... very long and confusing conversation with a vegan grocer who had a number of odd ideas about reincarnation." He shook the idea off and turned to Claire. "Were you waiting long?"