Jack Kline's Sister

Chapter Fifteen: Damaged Goods, Part Two

"I don't know if Sam and Dean buy the ingredients for that sort of thing."

"Then I'll make something else. Something less complicated that you can wing. Pies. I'm good at pies."

"Where did you learn to make pies?"

"Foster home number three." It had been her favorite. The only reason she'd left was that Michael was going to kill them.

Jack nodded. "How do you make a pie?"

"Depends on what kind of pie you want to make. I like cream pies. Fruit pies are, in my opinion, stupid. Why waste dessert on fruit? I don't get why Dean likes it." She opened a cupboard. "I think we'll have to get creative." She glanced back at Jack. "You don't think Cass will mind, do you?"

He shook his head. "I doubt he cares."

"Okay, then." Monica pulled out another package of Oreos and a few pudding cups. "I don't suppose they own a cake pan. I guess a large bowl will work." Monica crushed the Oreos and was about to dump melted butter on them when Jack grabbed her arm.

"Uh, are you sure you want to do that?"

"Of course. Why?"

"I just don't think frosting and butter are going to mix well."

Monica thought. "Nah," she said, shrugging off his concern and dumping the butter in. "Believe it or not, most things taste better drenched in butter." She picked up a small handful of crumbs and placed them in her mouth. "Holy crap," she said, eyes wide. "I should get this trademarked."

Jack watched her, eyes narrowed suspiciously before trying it. His eyes widened like hers. "Yeah, you should."

"What are you doing?"

Monica turned to see Castiel. "We're making pie."

"Out of what?" He asked, looking down at the bowl of buttery cookies with suspicion.

"Oreos and pudding."

Cass just stared at her a moment before grinning slightly. "Uh, Okay. Whatever. I'm glad you seem to be feeling better."

Monica glanced down at her hands before stuffing them in her pockets. "Yeah. I am." She shrugged. "I don't need power."

Cass pushed her bangs out of her eyes. "We're going to figure something out. You won't have to live this way forever."

Monica looked down to avoid his too-deep and too-blue eyes. "Yeah." She nodded. "Um, can we cut the crap? I'm trying to bake."

Castiel laughed softly. "Yeah. Of course. Go ahead."

He looked at Jack, who just responded with a, 'at least she's okay,' glance.

They both watched her finish her creation, without making that big of a mess (surprisingly).

She put in the fridge in the hopes that it might set up a little, and slid into the chair across from Jack and Cass. "Have you heard anything from Sam or Dean?"

Castiel shook his head. "I'm sure they're fine. If they needed help, they would call."

"Unless their phones broke."

"Can you just worry about one thing at a time?"

"I am. Right now it's broken phones." She pulled out her own and toyed around with it in her hands, a nervous habit. She checked the time. 3:55. "I think I'll go research some more," she said, and went back to her room.