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Everything and Nothing
4/11/13 12:03She sees him, bleeding out in front of her.
’Heal him, Castiel’
’No.’
’He’s my father. He’s dying. Heal him.’
’Claire.’
’Do it, angel, or our deal is off. I told you mom and dad get to live happily ever after, dying of old age, and I’ll give you those babies you want so bad.'
He tries to block her, tries to override her, and she pushes back, reasserting herself, refusing to drown in the chaos of everything. It was like being out on the playground. A game of tag screaming around her, balls being thrown and flying through the air, children shouting to each other across the yard, someone flipping around and around the monkey bars was going to fall off.
She knew it all.
Knew everything.
Every possibility to every answer, every action, every inaction played out in her mind. What-If's were not unknowns, it was all known and accounted for.
There was her father in front of him and she cups his face. Claire loves him, it’s a brightness that fills her and overflows, spilling from her in a glorious light.
And it’s gone.
Gone!
She followed after him. “Dad?”
“I am not your father.”
Gutted and empty. Hollowed out. Only the small bit of light still coating her insides, still on the walls of her mind, was the only thing that kept her from following him, from attacking the angel.
’Heal him, Castiel’
’No.’
’He’s my father. He’s dying. Heal him.’
’Claire.’
’Do it, angel, or our deal is off. I told you mom and dad get to live happily ever after, dying of old age, and I’ll give you those babies you want so bad.'
He tries to block her, tries to override her, and she pushes back, reasserting herself, refusing to drown in the chaos of everything. It was like being out on the playground. A game of tag screaming around her, balls being thrown and flying through the air, children shouting to each other across the yard, someone flipping around and around the monkey bars was going to fall off.
She knew it all.
Knew everything.
Every possibility to every answer, every action, every inaction played out in her mind. What-If's were not unknowns, it was all known and accounted for.
There was her father in front of him and she cups his face. Claire loves him, it’s a brightness that fills her and overflows, spilling from her in a glorious light.
And it’s gone.
Gone!
She followed after him. “Dad?”
“I am not your father.”
Gutted and empty. Hollowed out. Only the small bit of light still coating her insides, still on the walls of her mind, was the only thing that kept her from following him, from attacking the angel.
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