Usually when Claire works the closing shift at Rocky's, she and Dean will wind down with a couple of beers at the end of the night. It's a nice little ritual Claire looks forward to every time she comes around, though she'd never admit as much out loud.
Tonight, Dean has mixed up a batch of one of his specialty cocktails - The Queen of Moondoor. It's bright, a sort of red-orange color, and has a sweet and sour taste that makes Claire's jaw ache.
"Do you like it?" Dean asks, like Claire's opinion really matters.
She nods. "It's good."
She's not lying. Dean isn't really a cocktails kind of guy but he's put a lot of effort into every detail of Rocky's. From the various pride flags carefully hung behind the bar, to the salt painted into the windowsills, every inch of the place is meticulously planned out. Rocky's isn't officially a hunter's bar - though it is explicitly a gay bar - but it's become an unofficial gathering place of queer hunters across the continental US.
Even the cocktails on the menu are Dean's own invention. All of them have a backstory, some of which Claire isn't privy to. She knows enough to understand why the Queen of Moondoor is Dean's personal favorite, though.
It also packs a surprising punch. Two drinks in, and Claire already feels herself tilting from tipsy into full-on drunk. She slows down her pace.
"How long are you planning on sticking around now?" Dean asks, because free booze is never just free booze with him. There's always the interrogation. He's almost as much of a mom as Jody is.
"A few days," Claire answers vaguely. "Maybe longer, who knows. I don't have any hunts lined up right now and you pay pretty well."
She knows for a fact he pays her double what he does his other bartenders. Neither one of them ever mentions it, though.
"Weren't you heading back to Jody's?"
Claire shrugs, uncomfortable. She had been, before last night's call with Kaia. They're good most days, even with the strain of Claire being on the road half the time, but sometimes when they talk, they'll hit on a sore topic for one of them and things will get stilted.
The anniversary of Mom's death is coming up in a couple of weeks. Kaia wanted to join Claire for her visit to the cemetery.
"What's on your mind, Strawberry Shortcake?"
Claire is supposed to roll her eyes now. Tell Dean to fuck off and mind his own business.
She doesn't really want to do that. But she doesn't know how to explain to Dean what she's feeling, either.
"It's stupid," she says. "I'm being dramatic."
"You? Never."
Claire scoffs, and Dean's eyes soften.
"You can talk to me, you know."
"Yeah," Claire says, because she does. He gets her, weirdly enough. They get each other. It probably doesn't say great things about either of them. "I just... I feel like I'm making up problems."
Dean takes a sip of his drink. It's difficult to look dignified, drinking out of a straw, and he does not remotely manage it. "Let me be the judge of that."
"Kaia wants-" Claire stops herself, because that's not the point of it. "I - we're good. Me and Kaia. I don't feel ashamed about it."
Dean waits for her continue.
"I'm a lesbian," Claire adds, even though, duh.
"Congrats," Dean says, and it feels like it could be sarcastic but it's not. He means it.
"I don't think -" no, that's not right. "I know my parents wouldn't be okay with that."
The statement lands heavily between them. It feels bitter on Claire's tongue, an ugly truth held at bay for far too long. She feels awful saying it, like she's failing her parents. Speaking ill of the dead. But it's the truth.
Mom and Dad would make these... comments. And Claire remembers each one with perfect clarity, because she's known something was different about her for a very long time. She knew those comments were aimed at her, even if her parents didn't.
They were wonderful parents in every other aspect. Up until they abandoned her, that is. Claire still can't help but feel like she's failing them, sometimes, being who she is.
"They might have changed their minds," Dean offers. "If they'd known. It's different when it's your own kid."
Claire eyes him, curious. "Was it different for your parents?"
Something crosses over Dean's expression, too quickly for Claire to catch it.
"No," he admits after a beat. He runs his hand over his face. "Maybe - Mom might have been fine with it. She didn't know."
Claire swallows. "But your dad did. And it wasn't different."
She feels cruel, pushing the topic. But there's some perverse part of her that needs the confirmation. Dean reminds her of herself, in a lot of ways. He'd say it was the other way around. If he experienced the rejection that Claire feared as a kid, the one that still scares her even if it's purely theoretical now, then that proves something.
"It wasn't," Dean admits. "But Jimmy Novak was no John Winchester."
Claire's chest aches. There's some hollow triumph at the abstract confirmation of her worst fears. Mostly, she just feels like shit.
"For what it's worth," Dean adds, "I think you're perfect. No notes."
Embarrassingly, Claire's lower lip wobbles. She clears her throat, looking off to the side as she tries to regain her composure.
"You think you're my dad or something?" she asks, voice rough.
Dean shrugs, looking embarrassed himself. "I kind of think of you as my kid, yeah. If that's okay."
Claire crosses her arms, feeling warm and aching and off-kilter. "I - yeah. Yeah, that's fine."
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claire and jack are total opposites of each other. claire tries to play broody tough girl and acts mean as a defense for how genuinely sensitive and damaged she is, because she thinks that makes her weak and she actively doesn’t want to be weak or be seen as weak because she doesn’t want to get hurt again.
jack has their own broody mean streak, but is so outwardly saccharine and polite and overly forgiving it’s like they practice it in the mirror with an etiquette 101 book. he can be quick to anger like claire, but he’s way quicker to calm himself down. claire doesn’t understand why an all-powerful demigod would choose to be weak, to just not use their power and retaliate against people that treat them shittily. she wishes she could be as strong and invulnerable as he is, and she thinks he’s wasting it on nothing.
jack, on the other hand, is a little jealous of claire’s boisterousness. he wishes he could be more openly angry and defiant the way she is, without it automatically being taken as a sign of Lucifer’s genetic influence or imbuing him with nuclear charged teenage hormones that turn him into an active threat. jack doesn’t understand why Claire can’t just relax; take advantage of the fact that her emotional state isn’t cosmically charged and she can freely let go of herself. he longs for the passivity of being a gentle human, and he doesn’t get at all why claire wouldn’t want to be gentle every moment of her life while she’s able to.
claire thinks his strength is an advantage, and doesn’t understand why he doesn’t want it or doesn’t use it. Jack knows it’s a burden and doesn’t understand why claire would ever want it.
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