SPN: NG The Road So Far

by waywardbard

Season Two. Jesse, Claire, and Ben must learn to adapt to their new circumstances and face the consequences of the Nephilim's continued devotion as well as the newest threat looming ahead of them. -Discontinued-

1. Episode 1: Old Man Winter

Carbondale, Illinois; a tiny burg at the southern tip of the state with a popular reputation for debauchery and meth addiction, mainly because of the nationally ranked 'party school' of Southern Illinois University. But when college was between sessions, like it was now for the Christmas break, the population barely scraped a thousand people. Most of them were either dyed-in-the-wool hippies, or pure bred hicks.

For three months, she, Ben and Jesse had stayed under the radar. Keeping to themselves in the more desolate places of the country, laying low was the best course of action they could all agree on. Despite being on the edge of the Bible Belt, they were still in Illinois, and December still brought freezing rain and bouts of fluffy snow. Claire didn't mind the cold, or the crisp air that tangled lightly through her hair as she crossed a nearly-vacant street toward the cozy looking Harbagh's Cafe, her hands pushed into the pockets of a well-loved canvass parka. It cleared her sinuses, and most importantly, calmed her stomach.

Just reaching her second trimester, though it was still toned with barely a hint of bulge below her naval, it was incredibly sensitive, and leap-frogged with her liver as she slipped through the cafe door and was greeted with the smells of greasy breakfast food. Country Western Christmas music played over the din of conversations being had and meals being eaten. Claire's cheeks were pink from the wind outside, but warmed when her eyes landed on a pair that were obviously seeking hers from the small crowd of booths and tables.

Claire walked up to the older huntress - her surrogate mother - whose gaze she could already feel burning demanding holes in her face. Besides texts sent back and forth to let her know she was still alive and fine, Claire had only called her two days earlier, and asked to meet specifically in Carbondale. Kat didn't know anything else.

Claire thought she deserved to hear everything in person. Kat's expression was schooled calm as she rose, then pulled her in for a hard hug. A wave of shampoo and cigarettes hit her senses, but Claire returned the hug without hesitation, closing her eyes and pulling herself in close.

"I should tan your hide, child," Kat whispered against her hair, holding her that much tighter. "Four months and all I got were texts? Don't you ever do this to me again."

"Sorry..." Claire replied, feeling the response inadequate, but it had to do for now. After the twinge in her stomach subsided, the emotions caught up just as quick. She felt her eyes burn from the back, and had to sniff to push it all back down. She hadn't even gotten to the first details yet-this was going to be a long conversation. "We had to lay low. Really low." Claire pressed a kiss to the other woman's cheek before extracting herself gently. Her eyes were still on Kat's face as she started shrugging out of her coat; another good thing about winter-lots of layers to cover strips of permanently reddened skin. All except her wrists, which Claire kept hidden most of the time by long, fingerless gloves. "We still do, actually."

"That why you're picking Bumfuck, Illinois as your rendezvous point?" she replied with her brows arched. The man sitting at the table gave a polite cough, which brought Kat back to herself. "Right. Sorry. This is Father Harry. Father, this is Claire."

The fuzzy-faced man in his mid-fifties and long, salt and pepper hair smiled happily up at the younger blond, as if to say yes, this is awkward, but who cares?Claire looked down at him, caught in a moment of confusion.

"Father?" she asked, trying to keep the odd level of surprise out of her voice. Claire had been raised Catholic: priests were clean cut, put together and rigid. This man looked like he'd rolled out of bed, put on a Grateful Dead album, and lit up. Still, she shook his hand when he offered it.

"A's me," he said with a grin, and refolded his arms on the table. Claire looked at Kat as she settled down in the chair across from them.

"Now I see what you meant by 'unorthodox'."

Kat arched her brows slightly at her, as though tell her to mind her manners, but otherwise said nothing. "Where are your shadows, anyway?"

Claire either missed the reprimanding look, or ignored it all together. Father Harry didn't seem to mind either way.

"Shadowing," she said quietly, looking briefly to her own hands as they folded on the table. She met Kat's gaze, pointedly looking over her shoulder toward the far end of the crowded restaurant. Kat hummed in affirmation before picking up her coffee cup and taking a deep pull from it.

"Should I give you two a minute to talk things over?"

Claire rolled her lips, obviously contemplating. She slid a look over to the priest, who again smiled back with an ease that Claire couldn't quite comprehend. "Actually... could you excuse us for a few, Father?" she asked with a slightly embarrassed smile. "Just a few, promise."

"Oh, no problem, Darlin'," he dismissed the mild tension as if it were a fruit fly, big dimples in his cheeks half-hidden by several months of beard. Harry patted Kat on the shoulder and scooped up his coffee, moving to the diner counter where he was greeted enthusiastically by the elderly line cook.

Claire followed him with her eyes for a few moments before rubbing at her face with a still-gloved hand. "Where were priests like him when I was growin' up."

Kat half-smiled as she finished her cup and put it at the end of the table, then folded her hands on the top of it.

"Probably here," she said wryly.

"Wouldn't doubt it," Claire returned in the same tone. She'd gone back to watching the flecked Formica table-top, her nose wrinkled when a waitress passed the table with a plateful of breakfast burritos. She cleared her throat, and slid one hand to her stomach, pushing a breath. "Like I said, we're still laying low. Some serious things went down after Oregon, and we're on a couple big shit-lists."

Kat's brows arched quietly. "Do I get to be let in on the details about this, or is this moreorless like what happened back in Kentucky?"

Claire went quiet. As much as she wanted to clue the other woman in - to everything- the details would take well over the time they could sit there, waiting for Father Harry, who she had not expected to be there. Also, she couldn't help but notice that particular cluster-fuck from her distant past had one shared detail, however completely different the context was. Claire was fairly certain Kat was going to shit a brick, no matter how many or few details she got from this conversation.

"You do," she finally sighed. The burrito smell was still turning her stomach, even from two tables down. It was clearly distracting. "But there's a lot to tell. I didn't know Gerry Garcia was gonna be with you."

"You told me you needed him, so I got him," Kat answered reaching across the table and putting her hands over Claire's. "I didn't wanna let you down. If you want me to just pass his number on to you and ask him to catch up with you later, I'm sure he wouldn't mind."

Claire turned her hand around in Kat's, giving it a squeeze. "I didn't come here just for him. I needed to see you." For one quick moment, she glanced around the other woman's wiry shoulder, back to where Jesse and Ben waited, just part of the crowd, bundled in winter gear and sun glasses.

"I'm pregnant."

When Claire brought her eyes back to Kat's, she found the older woman slightly slack-jawed with wide eyes. A moment later and she was pulling back her hands and taking a sudden breath. Her lips twitched when she finally brought them back together.

"Oh."

Claire wasn't expecting the sudden sting in her chest when Kat pulled away, but besides a subtle flash in her eyes, she kept her expression even for as long as she could. Eventually it wavered, and her gaze lowered to the table-a slightly nervous smile formed on her lips.

"Surprise."

The shadow on the table shifted, and then before Claire really had a chance to respond Kat was squeezing into the booth next to her, turning Claire at the shoulder so they were nearly face-to-face.

"Clairebear, what are you doing?"

Forcing her breath a little slower than normal, Claire's mildly masked expression, just for a few seconds, melted away. Determination and fear were in her eyes, along with a quiet conviction that was hard to pinpoint. Raw honesty searched her mentor's face, looking for the same thing Kat was looking for: the meaning behind words that weren't being said.

For a split second, her concentration broke when a flash of memory put Kat's face in her mind, weathered another twelve years in the future. Claire blinked it away and took a deep breath. "I'm marrying Ben."

"What, because he's the daddy?" Kat asked, but a second later her eyes narrowed a little. "Or because he wants to be?"

"Because I love him," Claire answered quietly, but with enough strength in her tone to address both Kat's questions. Kat's hands moved to her shoulders, before lifting to her face.

"Sweetie," she said softly. "I know what's going on in your head and in your heart. I know, okay? But this- having a child, after everything you've gone through, that's not going to make all the bad things go away. All it's gonna do is turn the paranoia dial to critical. Trust me.I thought I could juggle it, too."

"Kat..." Claire's breath was a little shaky as she gently put her hands over the other woman's, lowering them from her cheeks. She still held onto them, though. "Do I look like I think everything's gonna be hunky-dory?" If she could, Claire was trying to burn all the images, all the memories of what she'd gone through, what she knew, into the older woman's brain. Hopefully, the look in her eyes was enough for now, until they could talk somewhere more private. "The dial's already past critical and snapped off in the red."

"I'll say it again:" Kat replied, her voice low and still holding that note of quiet fear. "What are you doing?"

Claire just looked at her, trying to manage her own tribulations with her sense of duty, faith, and love. It wasn't easy seeing that old, raw anxiety in Kat's eyes. She knew it came from experience, but Kat's past was, to put it lightly, vastly different from Claire's current situation. That did not make for a simple explanation.

Like anything was simple anymore.

"Following my gut," Claire finally uttered in earnest. "Isn't that what you taught me?"

Kat's eyes softened significantly at her words, and in the next moment she was pulling her hands free again and embracing her, holding her tightly. Claire curled her arms around Kat in return, thankful on a surprisingly deep level for the closeness. Her eyes closed, her face half-buried in Kat's hair, almost the same color as her own.

"Of all the ways I've needed you before," she whispered. "I need you to trust in me."

"Ain't a case of 'need,' Clairebear," Kat answered in a similar tone. "It's a case of 'have.'"

Claire hugged her a little tighter. "Thank you. I'll explain more, I promise. Just not here." Not that it would do anything to settle the other woman's nerves, but there were so few people in the world they could trust. Kat was one of them. Claire couldn't stand the thought of going through this without her on her side.

"I seem to be hearin' that a lot lately," Kat said with a hit of bitterness as she finally pulled back. "But okay. S'long as you promise." Her eyes moved over to where Harry was subtly watching them in the mirror on the back of the breakfast bar, resisting the urge to make a face at him or flip him a rude sign. All he would have done was laugh anyway.

"So I take it askin' you to meet here was probably a bad idea," she pointed out. "That'd explain the green to your gills."

"To put it lightly," Claire breathed, pointedly not looking in the direction of the chorizo, eggs, and jalapenos nearby.

"I'll go tell Harry to come out and meet you. G'head outside and I'll be out in a sec," Kat replied, already starting to stand. Claire followed suit after a quick readjustment to the cross around her neck, one of the signals the boys were watching for.

"Tell'im sorry for the strange intro," she said, threading her arms through her jacket sleeves, then arranging her hair out from the fur-lined hood. "I take it he's used to things like that?"

"Not surprisingly, yes," Kat said, flashing her a quick smile before she trotted off.

---

The "all is well" signal from Claire was a relief and Jesse's eyes didn't even follow her as she went outside. He and Ben stayed where they were, finishing their coffee, so as not to draw attention. As they put down their cash, a figure blocked their exit. Jesse felt a wrench in his stomach as he looked up to find Kat standing there.

There was a pause before he said, "Hi."

"Sit," Kat said gruffly. Ben didn't even hesitate, immediately sitting back down. Jesse, however, stayed standing.

"If you're going to make a scene," he said, his voice low, "can we at least take it somewhere private?"

Kat glared daggers into him. "Yes, because I'm the one that drama follows around like a bad case of acne on a thirteen year old boy."

Scowling, Jesse sat, though he focused his eyes on Ben. Kat slid into the seat across from them, the lines of her face still pulled into a scowl.

"Let me be clear with you boys," she said. "You are not the only people in the whole damn world who care about Claire. So don't you ever keep me away from her again, understand?" Ben licked his lips and took a breath to speak, but Kat was quick to cut him off. "Don't give me the 'lying low' bullshit, I just got a heaping spoonful of it from her. Now, I'm not sayin' you haven't got a right to watch yourselves and if you need to hide, by all means do, but I am not at the bottom of your goddamn phone tree, and I'm also not here to clean up after you."

Jesse's expression hardened as he looked at her. "And what is that supposed to mean?"

Ben slid his hands under the table, one moving to rest on Jesse's knee, which he gave a light squeeze. He knew Kat's tone, though the last time he'd heard it, it'd been attached to a different voice and a different face.

"We're sorry, Kat," he said gently. "We weren't out to make you worry. If y'wanna be more involved in this, we won't stop you."

Kat turned her glare on him, though it was a little more subdued. "Damn right, you won't."

"That's actually up to Claire," Jesse said, leaning back against the booth. "It's not like we're going to tell her what to do, or do something she doesn't want us to."

Kat gave him a deeply skeptical look, sliding out of the booth without another word and heading off toward the exit. Ben let out a breath, bringing one hand up through his hair then down to scrub his face. Scowling, Jesse slid out of the booth and to his feet, waiting for Ben before going towards the door himself.

"You've never had the dating-my-daughter shit before, have you?" Ben asked him.

Jesse raised an eyebrow. "Not exactly, no. Parents never had a problem with me."

It took phenomenal effort for Ben not to roll his eyes at him. "Well, that's what you just experienced. Try not to take it so personal."

Jesse gave a snort, but he was a little more thoughtful as he looked to the door. "I'll wager you freaked out a lot of parents."

Ben shoved his shoulder playfully before grabbing the door handle and holding it open for him. "Moms loved me. Dads, not so much."

With a smirk, Jesse pinched his thigh as he went by.

---

Ben stared at the laptop monitor, his heart thudding away in his chest as he looked over the weather for the next few days. The blank word document at the bottom of the screen remained minimized and untouched for the past six hours.

He thought about calling his mother and asking her for advice, but there was just no way of breaching the topic in a way that wouldn't immediately have her flying out to meet him. He was her first-born and only son; of course she'd want to be there when he got married. Except that was the problem, wasn't it? The only way it counted was to them; there couldn't be a paper trail, and he didn't want to risk his mother possibly being followed or worse on her way to Carbondale.

Then there was Dean. He'd thought for the briefest moment of calling his father, but after their last in-person conversation, he had a pretty good idea that Dean wouldn't really want to be present for the ceremony either. Twelve years they hadn't spoke, and when he finally found him, it was like he was a kid again in Dean's eyes. He took a breath and let it out. At least there wasn't any heavy snow.

Wearing headphones, Jesse sat across from him at the table, eyes focused on Claire's laptop screen as he mashed buttons and occasionally swore. The pace grew a little more frenzied, his body hunching closer, until he let out a string of curses, some of which Ben had never heard but could guess the general gist of. Popping out the earbuds, Jesse looked over at him with a scowl.

"Chichen Itza is a killer, man, I'm telling you."

"Hm?" Ben asked distractedly, not looking up from the screen. At the other end of the room, the bathroom door opened fully and a slightly less-green looking Claire stepped out, swishing Listerine in her mouth. Ever since discovering mint was a nausea suppressent, she'd been brushing her teeth several times a day. Ben looked up at the door opening, catching sight of her and giving a faint smile before remembering once again that he hadn't accomplished anything for the past few hours. With a sigh, he brought back up the search screen for his research into what made vows so great.

"What day were you hopin' to do this?" he asked Claire. "Weather's s'pose to be good all this week. A little cold, but y'know."

She looked at him, pushing her brows up and pointing to her obviously full cheeks. She flashed the same finger in the universal sign for hang on a second before heading back into the bathroom. Ben gave a sympathetic wince, feeling a little sheepish. Jesse looked between them, pushing back the urge to just put his headphones back on.

"You need... I dunno, help with any of that?" he asked.

"Father says he's open'til Christmas," Claire said tiredly, coming back out. She settled on the bed next to Jesse, curiously glancing at what he had up on the laptop. Ben chewed his lower lip silently as he watched them, fighting off the insecurities that warred on in his head. It'd been happening more and more lately, the closer to real everything was getting.

Then there was Jesse's role in everything. Ben didn't know what was going on in the other man's head, and given his own mental state, all he could wonder was if their talking about it openly just made him feel worse.

"Jess, pick a number between one and six."

Raising an eyebrow, Jesse said, "Three."

"Wednesday, it is," Ben said, dropping his eyes back to the monitor again. "Overcast all day and about 36 outside, so we'll make sure to dress a little warmer."

Never being one for video games, Claire's interest in the screen on Jesse's lap waned quickly, and she found herself sprawled behind him on the bed, her cheek propped by her palm. Her eyes were on Ben's profile, and the tension that'd taken residency there in the last month especially. It was somehow different than the normal anxiety they'd all been living with since Clifton, and it always spiked when this subject came up.

There was no denying the feeling of the eyes on him now. Ben took a breath and let it out, closing the lid of the laptop.

"It should be you two doing this," he said in a low voice. "Not me."

Jesse let out a long breath. "I'm not the marriage kind of guy, mate," he said, his tone light but expression serious. Claire stayed silent, watching Ben like he was a puzzle-box she couldn't figure out. It was better than giving any credence to the way her heart twisted at Ben's words.

His hands moved through his hair twice before he settled between his knees. It was so hard, finding the right way to say everything that was churning inside him. "It's— that doesn't actually help me at all, man," Ben said toward the ground. "And it isn't even... I know it bothers you somewhere deep down, otherwise you wouldn't've reacted the way you did when I first asked her."

Focusing on closing down his game, Jesse kept his voice even. "Knee jerk reaction. Was worried you might leave me. I'm not worried about that anymore."

Claire's hand slid between Jesse's shirt and the small of his back, her thumb stroking back and forth. It was a small comfort, given the heart-wrenching conflict written in Ben's posture. "Ben... if you're not sure about this—"

His eyes were on her even before she finished. "You know I want to," he interrupted, his voice still small. "I wouldn't've asked if I hadn't wanted to, you know that. I just—" his eyes moved to Jesse's, but he couldn't summon the words. Not after what'd he'd said. He was too afraid of the response. "I just don't want this to be something that hurts anyone, y'know?"

"I'm not getting hurt." Irritation crept into Jesse's voice. "I'm not into marriage, you are, that's it. It doesn't change anything."

Claire couldn't take her eyes off Ben's face, things working their way through her mind like rain water seeping through sand. When the realization struck, she finally closed her eyes at the uncomfortable throb that shot through her.

Ben dropped his gaze again, trying to ignore the painful stab in his chest and nodding around it.

"Okay," he said quietly.

After leaning into Jesse's shoulder to give it a quick kiss and a squeeze, Claire slid off the bed and crossed over to where Ben sat. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders from behind, nuzzling in close, holding him to her.

"By hurts anyone," she whispered against his cheek, keeping it low. "You mean you, don't you." Why didn't she see it earlier... Jesse's lack of enthusiasm for making anything so concrete was a deep-seeded fear of his, but she knew it had nothing to do with how they all felt for each other. She also knew that wasn't the way Ben's head worked; he was upset because it technically didn't include all three of them. Claire kissed the side of his jaw and hugged him even closer. "Give him time."

Ben felt his face heat up in response, partly out of embarrassment and shame. He gave a small nod in answer and leaned back into her hold.

It was clear to Jesse by Claire's reaction that he'd said something wrong. The fact that he had no idea what was irritating as hell. "Look, tell me what to say, and I'll say it. I have no problem with you two marrying," Jesse said firmly. "Hell, you have my blessing, if that's what you need to hear."

Claire looked up from over Ben's shoulder, meeting Jesse's eyes with a soft-toned, thoughtful smile. She crooked her finger at him in beckoning, and mouthed the words 'Show, don't tell'.

Brows knit, Jesse hesitated before getting up and coming to their side of the table. Since Claire was already at his back, Jesse knelt at Ben's side, twining their hands. "Seriously, mate. Talk to me."

Ben shook his head, though his grip on Jesse's hands tightened instinctively. "If you say it's nothin', it's nothin'. I'm... being stupid about it. Just ignore me." Claire curled her arms around his chest a little tighter and kissed his temple. A good-humored crack about hormones floated behind her lips, but she pushed it back down.

Jesse almost held back his response, but then that was exactly what he didn't want Ben to do. "You're getting married; you're supposed to be happy. And it's like you probably would be if it weren't for me." He brought their hands up, his lips brushing against Ben's knuckles. "So tell me what I can do to make you happy."

The heat was back in Ben's face again, only this time he had to fight off the urge to pull his hands away. "It's not..." he said around a thick tongue. "I'm fine. I want this. I've wanted this. And it isn't even about being married, it's about..." He sighed and turned his eyes down again. "It's about showing everyone else and..." and her, he added inwardly, "just— that this is all I need."

Letting out a long breath, Jesse leaned up to press his mouth to Ben's. Ben let out a shuddering breath, pulling his hands free in order to slide them up to either side of Jesse's face. Claire kept herself close, letting her eyes drift shut, concentrating on the simple warmth and tum of the two hearts pressed close to where her hands were on Ben's chest. Until a sudden stiff pang shot from her core, triggered by god-knew-what anymore, but all too familiar at this point. Extracting herself from them as gently as she could while driven by that urgency, she shuffled quick to the bathroom with a half-attempt to close the door, and save them the sound of her throwing up.

Jesse quickly pulled back, his expression twisting in sympathy and something a little more desperate. Ben craned his neck to look as well, frowning slightly before turning his eyes back to the body still in front of him.

"That just sucks," Jesse said, his arms sliding around Ben's neck.

"Unfortunate side-effect," Ben said distantly. He let his hands slide away, half-expecting Jesse to pull away and leave, but at least he'd gotten some of the words out. "If you don't wanna be there with us, I won't make you."

Jesse's stomach tightened as he looked at Ben. To be honest, he didn't want to go. Weddings usually involved God and eternity and other uncomfortable things. But what he really wanted was to see the two of them happy.

"Of course I'm coming," he said, nuzzling Ben's neck. "And please tell me you're wearing a tux."

"We're gonna be outside," Ben complained. "It's going to be cold. The hell would I wear a tux for?"

"Then wear a parka," Jesse teased. "And have the tux on underneath. It'll be fun to unwrap that."

The heat that hit Ben the third time was very different than the last two, causing him to squirm slightly. It was only after he took a moment to process it that he realized Jesse was inviting himself to the 'after party.' A strange mix of emotions flashed through him, but he shoved them down.

"I haven't seen a wedding dress," he pointed out. "So unless she wants to go that way, I'll probably just wear my good suit." He brought one hand up over Jesse's shoulder to rub his face. It was such a strange thing to be talking about.

"Or you could wear a coat and nothing else. That'd probably be a wedding first," he said, grinning before he stood up, heading towards the bathroom door. "Any drink requests, Claire?" She was sitting on her hip on the floor in front of the john, hair messily bunched in a knot behind her neck, and her brow resting heavily on her forearm.

"Diet Pepsi," she breathed, as if it was a surprise at that point. For some reason, that particular brand of soda had been the only thing, liquid or solid, she could keep down for the last month.

With a slight smile, Jesse headed to the fridge to grant her request. Ben watched him for a minute longer, his lips pressed in a faint frown before he turned to lift up his laptop lid again.

---

Jesse had gone off to see Ruth and the other Nephilim, and it was just him and Claire again. At the beginning of Claire's pregnancy, Ben couldn't help but secretly love the alone time with her. However, when her morning sickness started, things changed a bit. Mostly it was used just as down time, to rest or sleep. Knowing she was especially exhausted after finally getting in touch with Kat the day before, Ben drew her a bath, taking special care not to include any heavy scents. It was a little saddening, in all truth: she'd stopped using her jasmine soap, something he'd always loved from the first day they'd started traveling together. The artificial scent of it was just a bit too strong, but she didn't mind the jasmine green tea that had come in the hotel's courtesy box so, hoping for a nice effect, he dropped the last remaining bags in with the running water. Once it was done, he lit up a few white tea lights, then moved to where she was dozing on the bed.

Last night had been especially hard on her. After the nausea first manifested around her tenth week, Claire stopped wondering the term 'morning sickness' aloud, when the time of day seemed to have no effect whatsoever. Three, sometimes four times a day at this point. Last night had been seven, and the unmistakable gnawing of hunger was pulling her out of sleep, just as Ben eased onto the bed beside her.

First thing she did was flick the hair out of her eyes. The second was a sleepy attempt to prop up by her elbows, and reach for the hard peppermint candies waiting on the bedside table, right next to the prenatal vitamins that had added almost an inch to her hair in the last three months. "Jess leave already?"

Ben hummed in affirmation, brushing a kiss to her forehead. "Ran you a bath. What d'you want for breakfast?" Claire's eyebrows went up in surprise.

"A bath?" The way she asked made it sound like Ben had just bought her a six bedroom house with a pool. She popped the mint out of its plastic and held it up for display before dropping it on her tongue, speaking around it. "S'is good for now."

Ben half-smiled in response, rolling sideways out of the bed until he was standing before grabbing her playfully at the ankles, dragging her three inches down. She laughed lightly, rolling the candy from one cheek to the other. "In a hurry to get me outta bed?" she said playfully, but sleep and exhaustion were still heavy in her voice.

"No hurry," he answered, leaning down to brush his lips over her knee cap before sliding his arms beneath her. With only a preemptive inhale to clue her in on what he was about to do, he lifted her up, tucking her frame against his chest. "Just looking for the optimum response."

Despite the change in equilibrium not particularly agreeing with her, the bloom of warmth under Claire's face counteracted it nicely. Her hands found a natural place latched around his shoulder, her soft smile grazed the stubble on his throat as she nuzzled in close. There were still a few things that were just subtle enough not to throw her system for a loop, and thank god the shaving cream both Ben and Jesse used was one of them. It had become a comfort-smell for her, as much as peppermint had. Actually, a lot more. It took all of five of Ben's long strides to get them into the semi-dark bathroom, which darkened further when he pressed the door closed with his shoulder.

Sensing the odd change in light, Claire opened her eyes. They adjusted quickly to the oily flicker of the tiny line of unscented candles, shimmering on the tea-darkened water, all of it reflected by the bathroom mirror. Ben had wanted an optimum response—now she knew what he was waiting for.

"Aw, baby..." she brought her eyes up to his. They also reflected the candles. Her heart did a little flip. He smiled, slow and proudly at her reaction, before leaning in long enough to brush his lips against hers. He came to sit on the covered toilet, setting her astride his lap so he could help her peel her borrowed nightshirt off.

"You gonna join me?" she asked softly after sweeping her hair out of her face, then laced their fingers together. Claire rested her brow against his, her eyes closed again. "We could stay for an hour, then spend the rest of the day in bed watching Christmas Story."

Ben typically avoided the bathtub for any amount of actual washing, given his gangly height, but her voice in that tone and timber was enough to drain any real argument out of him. He kissed the tip of her nose and smiled as she rubbed the moisture away, like always.

"Sounds like a good day in my book," he replied. "G'head and sink in, I'll be right behind you."

Ten minutes later, and the two of them had barely disturbed the water. Claire had her eyes closed, leaning back against Ben's chest with her knees lightly pulled up. She was half hypnotized by the deep rhythm of his breathing, kept awake only by the occasional press of his lips on her temple, or the brush of stubble on her cheek.

"I had a thought last night," he murmured, his hands moving from the side of the tub to rest on her arms.

She replied sleepily, "What's that...?"

Ben adjusted himself slightly, and the sound of the water sloshing seemed unnaturally loud in the quiet. "He doesn't want to do the 'in front of God and the world' thing. What if we do something... more private, for him?"

Claire went quiet as she considered the possibility. It sounded ideal, from what she knew of Jesse; her plan had just been to let him become comfortable with the idea on his own terms. She was patient, confident that it would eventually click in the other man's mind that she and Ben weren't going anywhere. But the whole conversation last night...

Turning a slow look up at Ben, her lips pressed and her brows pushed high. Optimism at it's sleepiest. "I think it's just what he needs," and you she added silently in her head. It didn't need to be said. Ben kissed her faintly, moving a hand up to sweep the damp flyaways away from her forehead.

"I just don't want him thinkin' I'm trying to twist his arm," he added, his voice soft with paranoia. "Everything he said just..."

"Just doesn't fit with what you and I grew up with?" she finished his sentence with a touch of gentle reminder in her voice. "He's had no form of structure for most of his life, babe. He's wired a bit different, that's all." She shifted on his chest, only enough to stretch her legs out a bit, so her unpainted toes peeked out the other end. "Best way to go about it is just reinforce that we're not going anywhere." Ben nodded in response, his lips still pressed in a frown as he resettled against her weight.

"I'll try and dig up something online later," he said at last, with a note of finality to his words. He still had his own vows to worry about.

---

It always took Jesse about an hour to get to the front door. This wasn't because he popped up very far from the old army administration building. It was the three hundred Nephilim running at him like a joy-filled mob. He then had to say hello to each and every one, and they certainly let him know if he'd missed them. He tried to be irritated at being squashed once a week, but he never could keep the smile off his face as he was overtaken by a wave of love and excitement.

Once he'd greeted them all and told them to head back to what they were doing, he would finally reach Ruth at the door and give her a hug. There was something deeper, richer about the emotions pouring from her, and he always relished in it.

"So how's this week been?" he asked as they headed to the makeshift parlor.

"We were able to do the first harvest from the new greenhouse," Ruth answered, settling in the chair facing the door and running one hand through her hair. "The younger ones were very excited about that. It's a wonder all the food wasn't eaten at once, but I think we've got at least two week's worth of meals from that alone." Her brow furrowed as she tried to sort through the more noteworthy details of the week, several of which flashed through the undercurrent of her thoughts in rapid succession and all of which were thoroughly weaved in with her deep-seated need to make him proud.

"Lessons are going well... Oh, and I think we're running out of storage space on the entertainment hard-drive. I'm going to need to start backing up everything on inserts."

"Wow, really? Okay. Guess it can get pretty boring out here," he added with a smile. He considered the sofas before laying out on the rug, his hands behind his head. "How are you holding up? Are they driving you crazy?"

Her eyes followed him with an unmistakable keenness, the air around her warming considerably but her thoughts a lot less pulsing than they had once been. She had been practicing, knowing that the rush of untrained minds sometimes exhausted him, but there was still a deep thrumming of baser instinct that couldn't be tamed.

"It's..." she started, before licking her lips and trying again. "It's getting easier. I've... had to put a lot of the same structure back into place, just to keep order." [ So much easier if you were just here more they always focus better when they know the results please you always want to please you always anything you want— ] She closed her eyes with a wince, then took a breath. "Sorry."

He tilted his head at her. [ It's okay. ] "I wish I could be here more, too." There was very little truth in that. He enjoyed visiting, and there was a certain amount of satisfaction watching the Nephilim grow into something more like real people over the past three months. The truth was, though, he'd much rather stay in his quiet, secluded world with Ben and Claire. Even if the weather was much nicer here. And even when there was a certain amount of tension.

Laying his head back, he absently traced the rug's pattern. "Ben and Claire are getting married in a few days." Then, after a beat, "Do you know what marriage is?"

Ruth rolled her lips silently, her brows furrowing as a complicated twist of concern and apprehension flitted through the air between them. "Only from what I've seen through the allowed content in here. Like you said," she added with a wry sort of smile. "It's just stories. It isn't completely real. I have to remind the younger ones that often."

Jesse cocked a grin at her. She really was smart, and a fast learner. He was lucky she was there for him. "Yeah. I'm not entirely sure if it is real. People get married, but it seems more like an idea rather than an actual thing."

"Ideas are powerful," she said quietly, still watching him. "If anyone knows that, we do. Ideas change things if they're strong enough and enough people believe in them."

"Good point," he said, raising his eyebrows. "This is why I like talking with you, Ruth. You're smart without trying to push it onto people."

Her eyes dropped down to her lap as a blush overtook her face, love and adoration pouring out of her. One slim hand came up to push her hair behind her ear. "Thank you." She took a slow breath and let it out before speaking. "How do you feel? About their getting married?"

He bit his lip, staring at a crack in the ceiling. "It's kind of strange. But I'm okay with it, and it makes them happy. Only thing is, I think they want to marry me, too, especially Ben. And I'm not sure if it's really selfish of me to say no, when I know it would make them happy."

"Shouldn't just be them or you," Ruth said slowly. "It should be all of you, shouldn't it? You should all want the same things, or at least most of the same things. That's the feeling I've been getting."

Jesse's insides gave an almighty wrench and his expression tightened. "But we're different people. We're not always going to agree. And that's okay. Isn't it?"

She slid down onto the ground and was by his side in an instant, her hand grazing over the top of his before she was able to stop herself. A rush of wordless longing twisted around her, nearly palpable in spite of the schooled neutrality on her face. "Of course it is," she said. "You should do what feels right. They'll understand that if they love you."

He looked over at her a moment before giving her arm a squeeze. "Thanks. You're right. I shouldn't be worrying about it." Staring at the ceiling, his calm expression suddenly tightened. "Shit. Should I get them a gift?"

Ruth gave him a weak smile. "You're really asking the wrong person, Jess." [ You being there is enough of a gift wish you could see that can't understand why you hate yourself so much you're so— ] "I wouldn't even know what to get them, and with the way we work—" [ So much easier to just take want to take want to give anything you want everything you want ] "—it's sort of... I don't know. Too easy?"

He sat up, leaning back on his hands. "Except it's not, y'know. Well, I guess it's easy, but it's so much better to get something from someone simply because they want to give it to you. Because they thought about it, and cared enough about you to get it." He paused. "I'm going to have to get them something."

Ruth bowed her head, clearly unsure what else to say as she worried her lower lip between her teeth. Watching her thoughtfully, he finally said, "Anyone in particular giving you trouble? I could have a talk with them."

Her head shook. "I can handle it," she said softly. "Though..." her lips twisted up slightly. "You know they wouldn't swarm you so much if you told them to be calm." [ But seeing your reaction to how much they love you makes it so worth it.]

Heat rose to his face and he drew circles against the rug. "It's probably bad that I like it. But it's good for them, too. Emotion is part of being human."

She nodded in understanding, though her lower lip once again slid between her teeth. "Did you... want to go for a walk, maybe?"

He tilted his head and shrugged. "Sure." Pushing to his feet, he reached out a hand to help her up. The smile she gave him in response was nothing short of radiant, and even after she was on her feet again she wasn't quick to let go.

---

"No, it's way too short," Kat said with a frown. "I know you haven't been up here during the winter in a while, but that's a recipe for frostbite."

"Maybe, but I'm not exactly a 'train' kinda girl," Claire retorted with a light snicker, flicking the lace hem of the A-line dress she wore with a few fingertips. The image in the mirror was almost surreal, even if it was Claire's own face. "Tell you the truth, I would've been happy wearing jeans 'til I saw Ben de-linting his suit."

"Shaggy owns a suit?" Kat retorted with raised eyebrows. "Color me shocked." Claire shot her old friend a side-long look, smirk in place.

"He's more versatile than you give him credit for." Claire grabbed the second dress hanging on the hook and slipped back into the dressing room.

"I think his versatility is exactly what got you into trouble, little miss," Kat said through the door at a loud whisper.

"Explain," Claire replied with the driest sarcasm, her voice muffled by lace and knit. "Maybe that'll change things."

Though Claire couldn't see her, it was obvious that Kat was smirking. "I would, but there's a door in your way, so feel free to use your imagination and add in a few lines about being so big, et cetera." She was answered by a hard snort.

"Jesus, grow up."

"I've had three tequila sunrises. You're just gonna have to live with this version for another five hours." Her knuckles rapped on the door. "C'mon out and lemme see."

Claire tugged a little on the taffeta skirt of the second dress, shimmying it into place. It was much longer than the first, dusting the floor over her bare feet, with a wide off-white ribbon cinching her waist. "Girliest thing I've ever heard of you drinkin'. No wonder you wanted to go shopping," Claire teased, giving herself one last look before unlocking the door. "I actually like this one."

"I figured since this was actually happening, I better get in the..." Kat faded off as Claire slid out, her eyes softening considerably. "...mood. Oh, Claire. That's..."

Despite herself, Claire couldn't help but smile broadly at Kat's slightly floored expression. "I know." She looked from the older woman to the mirror, arranging her hair over the wide Greek style shoulder straps of the dress. It was comfortable, not pinching in on her sensitive midriff, and it even hid the scars. For someone who hadn't put much thought into what she'd be wearing, Claire was finding herself increasingly excited over what had just been tiny details—before she saw this dress.

"It's beautiful," Kat said in a hushed voice. "Claire, it's perfect." She grabbed the veil off the nearest display and slid it over her, just enough to give it the full effect. It was enough to bring misty tears to her eyes. "Look at you."

Claire ran her fingers down the scalloped lace edge of the veil, watching herself in the mirror. Kat's eyes weren't the only ones that softened and started to glisten; the two women shared that unmistakable bittersweet expression. Behind Claire's gaze was a suddenly very vivid memory of a scrawny toe-headed eight year old girl, wearing a white dress and a veil just like the one on her hair now. She smelled the thick twang of incense and cologne and coffee as if she were still standing behind the doors of the vestibule, watching her mother talk to one of her friends. The weight and warmth of her father's hand was still there.

Whaddya think, Bub? You ready?

Claire felt Kat take her hand, and something small and weighted settle in her palm. She blinked out of her memory, examining the tiny vial of water in her hand, a cross etched into its glass. A pendant? She shot Kat a quizzical look.

"Look at it again," Kat encouraged her, turning it up so that she could examine it a little more closely. There on the side that had been hidden was a tiny sapphire, the same color as her father's eyes.

"You've put more thought into this than I would've expected," Claire said, trying to be droll, but emotion softened her voice beyond her control.

"I'm waiting for Serah to come down with the last thing. She should be here by Wednesday," Kat replied. "You'll finally get to meet her."

Claire watched Kat's face, still so used to it being impenetrably sarcastic or determined—or furious—instead of this tender affection. The very few times she'd seen the raw humanity beneath never failed to cut her own shell, nice and deep.

"We'll share a Shirley Temple," she said, trying not to sniff as she curled an arm behind Kat's shoulders and pulled her in for a kiss on the cheek. Kat gave her a warm smile in response, moving to help her clip the necklace into place.

"That's very special holy water," she said into Claire's ear. "From the Jordan in Egypt. Always nice to have a little reserve on you, hmm?"

"No kiddin'." Claire pulled back just a little, enough to look at the vial necklace again, though she was still leaning a bit into Kat. The older woman's arms tightened around her in a brief hug before finally giving her shoulders a squeeze.

"C'mon. Let's buy this sucker and go get some Chinese."

---

The smell of pizza still hung in the hotel room, despite Claire's attempt to open one of the windows to filter out that oily aroma of grease. Since Ben had stepped out after supper, the temperature outside had started to spiral. Claire had always liked the cold, but when snow started filtering in through the screen, it was time to cap it off and put on a sweater.

Her thoughts were caught in a continuous tug-of-war between the two men in her life, more so in that moment, as she heard the GTO pull out of the parking lot with Ben behind the wheel. Maybe some alone time would help him sort the tangled chaos that was his head since they arrived Friday evening. Hopefully. There was only so much her reassuring seemed to do.

At least it gave her time to work on the other side of the spectrum. The cotton-soft brush of her sweater grazed the little spot of skin where his neck and t-shirt met, before being followed by her warm weight, and two arms curled around his shoulders. Jesse leaned back against her, his arms wrapping behind the chair to rest his hands on her waist.

"Fancy meeting you here," he teased, grinning.

"Yes, 'cause I normally don't spend a lot of time in hotels," she replied, smiling into his neck.

"No, of course not, that would just be boring. What's up? Relishing in the new eau de Jesse?" he said, tilting his head. She came back with a quick bite to his shoulder, warmed by a light laugh.

"Trust me, I'll let you know if it crosses into 'musk' territory." She squeezed him a little more, nosing into his dark hair.

"If it does, I'll have to start wearing plaid. And grow a beard. But not the patchy hipster. It'll be manly and bushy." As he spoke, his hands slid to her ass.

"Like the guy on the paper towels?"

"I have no idea who you're talking about, but yes. Only manlier."

Claire snorted, but continued to grin into Jesse's neck, shifting weight from one bare foot to the other. Her lips connected with his skin gently before she went on, her tone taking on a more velvet feel:

"So. I wanna talk to you about something."

His smile instantly stiffened. Nothing good had ever followed those words. "Okay, sure."

Sensing the sudden wave of anxiety like it had a temperature, Claire reacted automatically. "Nothin' bad, I promise," she reassured him with an honest smile, circling around to his front to slide into his lap. "Ben and I want to give you something."

Maybe if Ben were actually there, his anxiety would have ebbed. But he managed a smile. "Oh?"

"This marriage thing," she started, curling a hand between his shirt and the warm skin on his back. "I know you understand it's part of how he and I grew up; it's the way we know how to define and celebrate what we have—and I know exactly where you stand on it all..." she nudged his cheek with her nose, still smiling gently. "That's why, after the ceremony on Wednesday, we want to do the same for you. No guidelines, no rules. Just the three of us, promising everything we already know."

His eyes were a little wide as he looked at her, but he nodded. "Oh. Okay. But...I mean, do we have to prepare something or...?"

Claire just shook her head lightly. "It can be anything you want. If you want to write something, sing a song, do a dance..." her smile leaned a little, her tone airy, but still earnest. "Or us to dance—or just go on the fly. You know we're just making these rules up as we go."

"Right," he said, though his stomach was still doing somersaults. "So, just... okay. And this is after?"

Claire watched him for a moment before nodding. Both he and Ben were normally easy to read, at least for her, but every once in a while a wrench would get thrown in the works, and her certainty on what they were thinking wasn't at a hundred percent. This week, it'd happened with both of them, and it was bordering on unnerving.

"Do you want this?" she asked, not a hint of animosity or negativity in her tone. Only pure honesty was in her voice, and eyes.

Jesse swallowed. "It's not— I wasn't expecting it. That's all. It's not bad. Just sudden. But yeah, I—we can do it."

The words 'just sudden' stuck out in her head more than the others, at least enough to turn up the corners of her mouth in a subtle way. Claire dipped down to kiss him, slow and warm, her hand on his cheek. It was sudden, in many ways, and she didn't blame his anxiety. A lot had been put in perspective for Claire in the last year, however, and the phrase 'life is short' always hovered close to her thoughts and decisions. She didn't say anything to that affect, though.

"You know you can tell me anything," she reminded him, pulling back a bit.

He nodded, nuzzling against her. "Don't know if there is anything to tell. Kind of taking it in right now." Claire pulled him in closer, nodding against his temple while stroking through his hair. It was a good, long pause before she kissed the side of his brow and whispered against it in the same hushed voice.

"That's what she said."

---

It had taken nearly four hours, but Ben had finally gotten the words right. He'd read it silently, then out loud, his eyes screwed tightly shut as he listened to the sound of his voice as he said them. Of course, he knew when it came down to it, Claire wouldn't even care if he'd just stuck to the classic stuff, but he didn't want to go with the flow in any of this. He wanted every part of it to be imbibed with meaning. Nothing about what they were doing held any real permanence in the world but at the same time, the world of permanence wasn't one they actively participated in. It was a complicated dance of meaning and need to satisfy.

Ben just wished Jesse could find it in him to understand that.

Computer packed up and coffee drank, Ben finally made it back to the extended stay hotel, though he didn't make a real effort to leave the parked GTO straight away. He could imagine they were probably having alone time, and he didn't want to interrupt. Before it had been different, back when things had been a little less complicated and Ben knew that it had always been one of Jesse's secret fantasies to be discovered and watched. Now... it just felt invasive. Part of him hated the sense of change, but it had come out of nowhere and settled deep in his chest, refusing to be taken out. Everything was different now, and there was no getting back that early fluttering feeling. Best to soldier on and barrel through it.

From the frostbitten window of their room, Claire sat wrapped in the plush beige blanket that came in the extra linen closet, watching the familiar pair of headlights go off in the flurry snow. Jesse was sleeping; by now, she could tell the difference between the act and the real thing, due to the drag of breath deep in his chest that was impossible to fake.

The longer the car door remained closed, the stronger the hot feeling at the back of her throat. He was deliberately not coming in, for whatever the reason, and the same intuition regarding Ben that had been strangling her for the last three days told her he wasn't just on a phone call.

Another five minutes went by before she dropped the blanket, slipped into her treaded winter boots, and pushed her arms into her coat. In moments, she was easing the room door closed and trotting, bundled, toward the GTO.

Conditioned by years of paranoia and an oversensitive drive to always be aware of his surroundings, Ben's head immediately turned in the direction of the approaching body, his hand automatically twitching towards his gun before he realized who it was. With a sigh he slumped forward, head resting against his arms on the steering wheel as he waited.

Claire slipped through the passenger door with a blast of cold, and shut it quickly behind her, watching Ben from behind pale fly-aways flecked by snow. The tense position he was in did nothing to settle her nerves, but it wasn't like she expected any different. What really twisted in her stomach, and had been growing like a cancer, was the fact that she had no idea of its true cause.

"What'd he say?" Ben asked quietly, not sure what else to talk about.

"He wants to," she answered in the same tone. "He was surprised. Like he never expected us to ask."

Ben's head turned at her response, his eyes widening slightly before going a little cloudy as his heart started to ache. All we've gone through together, and he still doesn't believe in us, he thought, the realization both troubling and heartbreaking.

"Oh."

Claire just stared at him, her eyes suddenly watery.

"Oh? He wants to, Ben. And your reaction is a disheartened 'Oh'?"

Ben winced, his eyes closing as he settled his forehead on his arms again. "I just don't—" he started, then felt his chest hitch. "I don't get him. Every time I think I'm starting to, I hit a dead end."

Claire bit back the urge to slip her hand into his, to brush back his hair, or touch him in any other way. She wanted to, her first instinct being to shelter and comfort him, but a second guess told her to stay still. Sometimes it was easier venting when there was nothing there to distract. And God, she needed him to spill whatever this was, for his own sanity as well as the rest of them.

She rolled her lips and forced a slow breath, looking vaguely out the windshield before turning back to him. "What about him don't you understand?"

"Honestly?" Ben said in a muffled voice. "Everything. I mean it's... fuck, I don't even know how to say it. I know I've said and done some shit to make him question my motives in a lot of things, but I've always gone back and tried to fix them. I've always tried to make sure he knew that I trusted him, that I wanted him here, that I needed him here. I even..." he swallowed hard. "I even held back doing anything with you for his sake. But sometimes it's like... it feels like he's replacing me, and I have to fight to keep from being phased out."

Claire watched with furrowed brows, the sickness in her stomach soured by the pain in his voice, even more so by what it described.

"Replacing you how?" she asked, keeping her voice even, and quiet. He gave a weak shrug.

"He's a better hunter than I am," he said in a small voice. "He's better at everything than I am, and it isn't fair, and it's like..." He gave a bitter laugh. "He just had to one-up me. I wanted to marry you, but he just had to speak up and..." Another bitter laugh, the words fading off. Ben couldn't bring himself to say it. Deep down, he knew she knew, and the last thing he wanted was to give her any reason to feel angry toward him. "I just... it's... I just don't know, Claire."

This time, Claire didn't fight the urge to touch him. Though gentle, her hand slipped out from her pocket, curling under his elbow to get to his hand. She laced their fingers, and warmed his with her other palm.

"Look at me, baby."

Even with her gentle tone, Ben couldn't stop the fearful rise in his chest as he brought his hazel eyes to her blue ones. Her expression was already soft, but lost something with the sheer ache in his gaze.

"You remember what I told you back in Lawrence?"

He gave her a weak, slightly depreciating smile. "Lotsa stuff that night," he admitted, feeling ashamed for not being able to pick out what she was referring to.

"Right before Jesse left to help his mom." Claire paused to breathe past the knot that had formed in her throat. "How he idolizes you... do you remember?" Ben nodded, though his brow furrowed a bit as he tried to figure out where she was going.

The flare of confusion in his eyes made that knot heavier. She had to wonder if he'd completely blown off everything she said that morning, or if she was completely misunderstanding his current anxiety.

"Jesse is not replacing you. He's not better than you, nor is he trying to be. And he is not one-upping you—especially when it comes to me." Claire's jaw set, tightening her words uncomfortably. "Everything he does, he does in hopes of making you proud of him. He's changed his whole life to be like you, and most of it has been - and continues to be - terrifying to him." That last bit carried a lot more meaning than the specifics neither one of them were saying out loud. "You make him happy," she added, feeling a very real sting in her center with that admission. "He just wants to do the same."

Ben turned his gaze away from her and down to the floor, chewing his lips so hard he could feel the skin start to crack. "Hard to believe that when he won't even talk to me," Ben said in a tight voice. "Only time he ever talks to me is to yell at me. It's only fighting and f— physical with him." His other hand came up to pull hard through his hair, though he didn't let go of her hand. "I'm sorry. I'm not... I'm not trying to make you play the mediator here. It's not even—" he gave a frustrated noise. "I don't even know why it matters so much, but it does. And I..." The hand that had pulled through his hair moved to his face and he pressed the heel into his eye.

"You think I'd just sit back and let anyone treat you like that?" she asked genuinely, at first hoping that the deeper meaning would sink in. On second thought, though, elaboration seemed the wiser path this time. "If it was all fighting outside the physical, he wouldn't be here. I think you're just concentrating on those parts because they stick out easier."

Ben gave a low, wet laugh, his shoulders giving a shake. "This is why I didn't hook up with anybody when I picked up the business until I met you."

Claire's lips rolled into themselves, knowing full well what he meant. For the first time, her eyes dropped to the seat between them. "Lot more baggage." And so much of it left behind.

"Dad always said," Ben continued in the same wet voice. "He said it's the kind of work where when you let your heart rule you, it'll run you into the ground. He's right. And it's hard enough with just two, but with three..." He took a breath, then let it out shakily. "Aside from that month with Izzy, it feels like we haven't even had a real chance to just be."

Claire stayed quiet, listening to every word, and feeling each one tug on the chain around her heart. The whole time she'd been in the car, her free hand had been across her middle, but only right then did she become acutely aware of it—a powerful instinct she'd developed early. Try it on my end, she heard her own voice in her head, but said nothing. Only moved her thumb back and forth over her sweater, and tried to work up the will to lift her eyes.

"Sometimes the hardest things to see are right in front of us," she finally uttered, then remembered to add more than sayings worthy of Confucius. "I see what you do for Jesse, and I see what he does for you. You both just need to be more observant; look under the layers." She couldn't help but zero in on Dean's words conveyed by Ben for the second time in a single thought. It was hard, and her position in it all had her feeling especially exhausted. But, like the sick feeling that was slowly gaining strength under her hand, it all had a purpose Claire had put her faith into.

Ben let out a breath, then weakly nodded. He couldn't argue that fact with her; on more than one occasion, he'd said or done something without really giving it the proper amount of thought.

"What do I do for you?" he asked quietly, hoping to turn the conversation into something lighter and more fulfilling.

Now Claire looked up through her lashes, though her head was still slightly bowed. While her expression had warmed, there was still a heaviness in her eyes that she was slowly trying to push away. Her grip on his hand squeezed.

"You understand me, you connect with me on a level that I didn't think was possible." She gave him a small, but genuine smile. "You gave my life more purpose than just sacrifice." Her hand squeezed again, this time not easing up all the way. "You make me better."

Ben sat up, pulling their joined hands upward so he could kiss the back of hers and brush it against his cheek. He felt a lifting in his chest at her words, which filled him and reminded him just why he'd asked her to marry him in the first place.

"Get out of my head," he said lightly, giving her a faint smile. She smiled back softly, lifting one finger to bush his stubbly cheek while it was close.

"I love you," Claire whispered, then let her eyes drop behind their lids. "Jess loves you just as much. He's got the same fears that come with it. Just remember that."

"I'll try," he answered before leaning in to kiss her. Claire's eyes closed when their lips met, feeling her chest constrict.

"Try one more thing for me?" she added, soft as cotton, but with all the seriousness in the world. "Try to be excited instead of giving yourself an ulcer. We got enough on our plates to be worried about."

Ben gave a weak laugh, staying close as he kissed her again. "I just want it to be as close to perfect as possible. Not like we can do it over, right?"

"You are what makes this perfect for me," Claire reminded him, pulling back only enough so she could focus on his eyes. "And you are the only thing I'm worried about right now. If I'm happy, you're happy, right? Well it works the other way around, too."

His face pinched a little at her response. "I'm... okay. I'll just— I've got the hard part done. Now it's just the matter of waiting 'til Wednesday."

Claire's smile faded back onto her lips, and she kissed the corner of his mouth. "I know what you've been putting into this, and I know how crazy it's been," she whispered, again trying to lift more weight from his gaze. If she were honest, she was trying to do the same for herself. "It's a lot to handle; things can get missed. You and Jess'll get on the same page, and after Wednesday, we'll head somewhere warm... to just be for a while."

Ben's smile lengthened a little. "I think I can get behind that."

---

He'd felt both better and worse after his conversation with Claire; it was obvious that his unhappiness had been bothering her, and that had never been his intention, but at least everything was out in the open now and reassurances had been made. But over the next few days, Ben had gotten next to no sleep. It was obvious from the dark circles that had settled under his eyes, and the way he'd gotten quieter and quieter as the days passed. His suit had been made ready, pressed clean and hanging in the small closet of their hotel; he'd finally written vows that didn't completely suck, for all that he'd had nobody to really bounce them off of; the ring had been sitting in the bottom of his bag for weeks now, purchased on poker winnings and pool — he'd refused Jesse's help in that — but there still was no fighting off the bone-deep paranoia that somehow, something would go wrong. The only way he knew he was going to get any sleep was to go for a run, but with the weather as chilly as it was, he had absolutely no desire to go outside. He did, however, remember walking past the little gym the hotel had to offer and seeing a treadmill.

Jesse still lounged in bed, watching as Ben got dressed. Claire had gotten up long ago, had her morning vomit and hopped in the bath. Jesse had hoped for a little quiet time with Ben; his visits to the Nephilim and Ben's flighty drives hadn't given them some time alone for a while. Of course it looked like Ben had others plans, again.

"Where you headed?"

"Thought a run might kick the insomnia a bit," he answered in a tired voice, though the moment the question was asked he knew that he was about to be delayed.

"Oh." And then Jesse said something he'd never said in reference to an early morning run before: "I could come with."

Ben blinked at him in surprise. "Uh, sure. Yeah. I mean, I'm not going out in the cold, 'cuz that's crazy. There's treadmills. In the gym downstairs, I mean." His eyes moved to the closed door of the bathroom. They hadn't really left Claire on her own in weeks, save for her brief moments with Kat since their arrival. One of them had always been with her at all times. "Lemme just ward up the room real quick."

Jesse's eyes followed his, his stomach sinking. "If you'd prefer I stay with her, I'll stay. I didn't really think about that."

Ben shook his head. "No, it's—... it's fine. She's not glass. But I do wanna ward up the room."

Licking his lips, Jesse nodded before crawling out of bed and going to his drawer for workout clothes. Ben warded the place up while he dressed and they were done around the same time.

"Just a sec," Ben said, grabbing up the little notepad and leaving a quick explanation on where they were before leaving it on a chair put in the path of the bathroom door. "G'head, I'm right behind you."

Jesse waited in the hall while Ben warded the door. They headed down the stairs in silence, though inside Jesse's head nattered away nonstop. Just everything sounded too stupid to say. When they finally got to the gym room, it was empty, and the only sound was the radio music piped in through the overhead speaker. Ben immediately crossed over to the interface to change the channel, though not before making a face at the last person's taste in music.

"What's on your mind?" he asked once he turned around, immediately starting to limber up.

"Should be asking you that question, Mr. Insomnia." He smiled, rolling his shoulders.

"Nerves, is all," Ben answered easily, his smile once again depreciating. "Hard to sleep when my brain won't shut the hell up."

"Yeah, I know what you mean," Jesse said with a breath of a laugh. He leaned over, touching his toes and holding them for a few counts.

Ben thought back briefly to Claire, still up in the bathtub, and wondered if she'd gotten to talking to Jesse about the fears he'd had. It would certainly explain the sudden desire the other man had to coming with him. Or maybe I'm just reading into shit and need to be more observant, he reminded himself.

"Oh yeah?" Ben prompted, finally moving over to the treadmill and stepping onto it.

Jesse felt the heat rise to his face. "Oh, just, in general." He hopped onto the nearby stationary bike.

Ben was silent for a moment as he set the presets. "Look," he said, still breathing slowly and normally as he moved into a fast warm-up walk. "I know you didn't just come with me to small-talk. Whatever you need to say or wanna say, you can say it. I'm not gonna fight with you this early in the morning."

His foot nearly slipping of the pedal, Jesse's face turned even redder. "I didn't...really have something in mind. I just wanted to be with you. Haven't seen you as much."

Embarrassment flooded Ben and his head ducked as a heat rush moved through him with Jesse's words. See? Reading into shit, his subconscience pointed out. For a moment he seriously considered getting off the treadmill and moving over to kiss him, but the treadmill picked up and wiped the thought out of his head. Talking is fine. Hell even not-talking is fine. Just be for a bit, or give him the option to make the first move, you freaking caveman.

"Good," he muttered lamely. "Cool. Bonus: you'll be able to help drag me upstairs when I lose all motivation to walk."

The tension eased out of him at that and Jesse smiled, cycling faster. "Yeah, I always have to carry your ass everywhere."

"He says as though he doesn't like it," Ben countered in a fake grumble, deliberately shoving down the immediate flash of unhappiness at Jesse's word choice.

Jesse grinned but concentrated on peddling for a bit. He couldn't remember the last time he'd ridden a real bicycle, forget about a fake one. It was pulling strange at his leg muscles.

"So, two days left. Pretty good, huh?" he said, looking over. Ben was in a full run by that point, his feet hitting the treadmill in a thudding but steady rhythm.

"Kinda wish my mom was here," Ben answered honestly, his voice heavy with breath. "But I'm kinda scared to invite her."

Jesse scowled in sympathy. "If... I mean, I could find a way, probably, so demons wouldn't know."

Ben looked over at Jesse briefly, flashing him a small smile before looking ahead again. "Nah, it's fine. I mean, I could probably make up a gris-gris bag for her if I wanted, but then if mom knows then she's gonna get ideas in her head and no doubt Krys'll wanna come and I... I just want this to be a small thing, you know? I never really... thought this would happen to me."

"I'll bet," Jesse said with a small snort. "What would she get ideas about?"

"Only son getting married, blah blah," Ben huffed out. "Trust me, there's ideas. I don't know what they are, but I'm sure they're still there in spite of the fact that until this last year I was single."

"Ah. You mean about quitting all this or something?"

Ben blinked. "Wh—" then the implication hit him, and his stomach did a weird sort of flop. "Oh. Yeah. She— yeah, she'd probably think I'd stop. Want me to move down the street, get a house, have kids. Not saying that's not possible, it's just..." He hit the cancel button on the treadmill, letting it slowly come to a stop before stepping off. "Not... what I see happening."

Jesse slowed down but didn't stop, his expression serious. "What do you see happening? With Claire getting bigger, and then having a baby. What are we going to do?"

Ben moved into a crouch, his legs twitching hard as he caught his breath.

"I don't know," he said after a moment. "It's not gonna be easy, and I don't... think we should be trucking the kid around for a while, when it happens. We'll need a break."

"Yeah. Especially Claire. Maybe we could get someplace near Ruth's?" Even Jesse didn't feel all that certain saying it. "I could help out more."

"You're gonna have to, man," Ben said quietly. "It's your kid."

Jesse's throat seized up a moment and he stopped pedaling. He finally managed, "I meant help Ruth more. She's been having trouble. Of course I'm helping with... with the kid."

Ben winced, then ran a hand through his hair. The drag was oily, but he ignored it. His first instinct was to say something about how the Nephilim wasn't their problem anymore, that they needed to take care of Claire, but he bit it back. That would undoubtedly start an argument.

"These are things we should talk about together," he said after a moment. "It's not just our decision to make."

"I wasn't saying we had to decide right now," Jesse said quickly. "Just, y'know, something to think about." And so much for what he wanted to say next. Wiping sweat from his upper lip, he got off the bike. Ben watched him silently, his brow furrowed at Jesse's answer. Tiredness had started to burn in, but he still wasn't quite there yet; especially not when he could see the thoughts churning behind his partner's eyes.

"Keep talkin'," he said, hoping to press more words out of him.

Jesse walked over, giving him a quick kiss. "You're right. It's the kind of stuff we should plan with Claire. After Wednesday."

Ben caught his hand before he managed to get too far away, pulling him down to sitting in front of him. "You just tryin' to give me more crap to turn over in my head?" he asked, his tone light to show he wasn't being accusing.

With a lop-sided smile, Jesse shook his head. "Trying not to, really. It's just..." He bit his lip. "Every time Claire takes off her shirt and I see that little swell, I feel panicked. Like there's not enough time and there's no way this'll turn out alright." He couldn't look at Ben as he added, "I still wish she'd consider my first suggestion."

Ben felt his heart stutter painfully in his chest, turning Jesse's hand over and holding it in both of his.

"That kid is part of her, too," he said quietly. "And that's not a part she's willing to give up for anybody's sake. Claire's not stupid; if she hadn't wanted this kid, she never would've put herself in the path for it to have happened in the first place. You didn't do this to her. And I know you're not ready, but you've got six months to get ready, because it's gonna happen. No stopping it now."

His hand tightening around Ben's, Jesse nodded. It's gonna happen, it's gonna happen, it's gonna happen. He swallowed. "Don't suppose you have any advice on how to be a dad?"

Ben gave a weak laugh, then shook his head. "Far as I can tell, it's different for every kid. What worked for me isn't gonna work for this one. All I know is I'm gonna keep that kid safe, no matter what. If that means letting someone else save the world for a while, I'll do it."

"Good. Yeah, that would definitely be good," Jesse said, meeting his eyes again. His expression softened. "You're going to be a good dad."

Ben felt a strange twist in his stomach at the compliment, sliding his hands away from Jesse's to pull him closer at the shoulders and into an embrace.

"So will you," he said into Jesse's hairline.

His stomach still clenched at the thought, but Jesse pushed it aside, pressing into Ben's arms. The hug was a little damp, but warm, and Jesse melted into it. He was silent, hoping to draw it out.

"Y'know I love you, right?" Ben murmured, his embrace tightening a little.

Sliding an arm around him, Jesse squeezed back. "Of course I do. I love you, too."

---

Claire's expression was tight with a mild anxiety she wasn't even trying to mask, her phone tucked between her ear and shoulder as her hands attempted to maneuver through her favorite sweater—the pale blue one with the stretched out sleeves.
"No no, don't worry about it," she said into the device, disappearing in the shirt for a moment, popping her head through before continuing. "Let me call you back in a bit—I'll let you know then?" A distant voice tinned from the phone as Claire swept her hair out of the hem. "Right, before three. Thanks, Father."

Giving a slightly long breath, Claire dropped the phone to her palm and hit the cancel button. Ben, his eyes still a bit red from being awoken earlier than he would have liked, met her gaze with a frown.

"What's up?"

Claire was still looking at the phone in her hand. "We have to reschedule the ceremony," she said wearily, but not with the whine typical of a bride with a wrench in her plans. This was an older, more recognizable worry, one that was clear in her eyes. "Father has a memorial tomorrow... some kid froze to death last night."

Ben blinked in surprise. "How's that even work? I'd have thought the people around here had a bit more sense than to let that happen."

Claire just shook her head lightly, the negative equivalent to a shrug. "Apparently it happens a lot more than normal." She met his eyes pointedly on that statement, setting down her phone.

Her answer only seemed to confuse him more. "Wait, so this... this happens often around here? And nobody's tried to do anything about it?" She crossed the room and settled on Jesse's side of the bed, still mussed from when he got up for the food run he hadn't returned from yet.

"College town, lots of idiots go get drunk, try to walk home in a blizzard." She could understand the reasoning, but still. Call it conditioning: all of them were simply used to things going down in much different ways.

Ben stood, moving to the window. "But it isn't even snowing—" His hand swept the curtain aside but as he did, his words faded off. There, on the ground, was at least two feet of snow. His eyes widened. "Hang on. That's—... but the weather report said that it was going to be overcast all week."

Claire had followed his expression with unrelenting eyes. Finally the pull was too much, and she joined him at the window, staring, squinting at the blinding snow.

"We're in southern Illinois, right?"

"Last I checked," Ben muttered with a deepening frown. "Jess went out in this and didn't even say anything?"

"I doubt he thinks it's unusual," Claire answered distractedly, turning toward the table. Her ultimate goal was her laptop, which she opened and turned on. Ben grabbed the nearest chair and pulled it next to her, sliding his hand absently to rest on her knee.

"Maybe he just zapped somewhere," he mumbled distractedly. Claire didn't respond verbally, only naturally gravitated closer to him while pulling up the Carbondale police department's website to do a little hacking.

"So what do you wanna do about the ceremony?" she asked, her eyes still on the screen as her fingers traipsed over the keys. Barely ten seconds of looking pointed her toward the coroner's preferred software provider. In five minutes, she'd have a list of passwords and employee numbers.

Ben worried his lower lip between his teeth, frowning as he watched the screen, halfway tempted to get up and grab his notebook to start writing things down in.

"Can't exactly go to the outdoor chapel now, with snow up to our knees," he said.

"Kat's staying at some lodge in the woods," Claire hushed back after a moment, her attention split between the conversation and the screen. However, most of it was on their words, since the crack-coding was basic memory for her, at this point. "Supposed to be pretty." Then, she laughed a little dimly. "Great fried chicken."

His eyes finally turned to her, watching the faint light from the laptop screen reflecting in her eyes. She'd gained a little more fullness to her cheeks with her pregnancy, along with some suppleness to the curves he'd already grown to love so well. In that moment, he understood a little bit better why Jesse was so afraid.

"If this is just a freak blizzard," Ben said slowly, "then we'll pick up at the lodge and go from there, if you're okay with that. But I don't think we should go rushing through this if it turns out there's something that needs looking into, you know? Better that we have a few days to soak all this in than for it to get interrupted with a hunt."

Claire's fingers stopped moving on the keyboard, and she was looking at him softly. Though she wasn't positive why her answer was delayed, she did agree. She leaned in, kissing the side of his mouth. "Works for me."

"Keep working on this," he said, kissing her again. "I'm gonna look into past cases through the newspaper's interface, see if there's any more freak snowstorms linked up to past deaths."

Jesse appeared in front of the door, bundled up tight with two Burger King sacks in hand. His sneakers and pants were soaking up past his knees. "Have you seen it out there?" he said, equal parts dismayed and delighted. Claire turned a look over her shoulder and couldn't help the way her sudden smile tugged hard into one cheek.

"Not very used to snow, are you?"

"Australia isn't exactly known for its freak blizzards," Ben commented, his eyes crinkling with a smile though he didn't look up from his navigating through the newspaper's web interface.

"No," Jesse said, returning the grin. "Decided to walk out there. It was fun for about the first hundred feet and then it started getting wet and cold." Claire's smile faded a little; her attention turned back to the laptop.

"Conjure up some Carhartts next time, babe. This cold already killed someone last night," she said grimly, rolling through the list of names on her screen.

Jesse's smile fell. "Shit, really? It wasn't that bad." He paused, then added, "What're Carhartts?"

"Clothes and footwear," came Ben's distracted answer as he turned his laptop around toward Claire. "Found a pattern."

That got a slight scowl. "Pattern? What're you doing? And aren't we going to eat? I apparently risked my life for this food, you know."

Despite the serious plunge her stomach took at Ben's discovery, Claire sent Jesse a small smile and waved him closer, then went back to scanning Ben's screen.

"Starting in 2004, there've been at least ten reported deaths a year in this town, all connected to unexpected blizzards," Ben said. "Always ten, always within a week of the first reported snowfall, but at different times during the winter season."

Jesse leaned over his shoulder, eyes widening. "Shit. You mean there is something here?"

Claire chewed on the inside of her cheek, feeling her insides chill, then inevitably twist. Immediately, her hand was on her lower abdomen as she got up from her chair and started a slow pace around the room. "Looks like it. We're delaying the ceremony."

"I'll call the Father," Ben said, then frowned in thought. "You think he'd find a way for us to get in and see the body?"

"Wait, what, why delaying the ceremony? What's the Father got to do with this?" Jesse said, only feeling more lost.

"He's overseeing the kid's memorial." Claire settled on the edge of the bed. She met Ben's eyes; something in hers was uncertain. They hadn't taken a hunt since Clifton—that was three months ago. Besides dragging a demon out of Jesse's adopted mother, they'd been well under the radar, and her super-charged instincts were tentatively toeing the line of reluctance. A pause followed until she rolled her lips and sucked it up. "I can distract the desk while you two get to the morgue."

Jesse let out a breath to hide the knot in his stomach. "Alright, but can we eat first?"

Ben immediately frowned a little. Eating before seeing a body was a guaranteed ticket for nausea. He stood, going to where his phone was charging in the dock by the bed. "You guys go ahead. I'm gonna call the Father and Kat."

---

In the end, Ben had encouraged Claire to stay behind with Kat while he and Jesse went on ahead to the morgue. Jesse could easily get past any block in their path, but Ben couldn't handle the idea of Claire being left alone without someone to watch her back. A hunt didn't change the fact that they were still on red alert.

He'd meant to wear his suit on Wednesday for the wedding, but they had to look professional if they were going to act like professionals, so he'd put it on glumly. He'd been quiet all the while as they drove through town.

Jesse was quiet, too, though that was more to do with feeling every small slip of the car's tires and holding onto his seat with a white-knuckled grip. He tried to get his mind off it, but couldn't quite bring himself to look away from the road. "You...you alright, mate?"

"Yeah," Ben answered, his voice sounding far-off and distracted. "Just... hoping this is the one easy case we get this year, so it can be over and done quickly."

That got a sympathetic glance, and Jesse reached over to give his leg a squeeze. The squeeze got tighter when they hit a patch of slush. It was only then that Ben realized that Jesse had been experiencing any sort of discomfort; he'd been a little too focused on his own crap to be paying attention to it. A small smirk twisted on his lips.

"Relax, man," he said. "I pretty much learned to drive in this stuff. We're cool."

"Alright," Jesse said, licking his lips. "Just that whenever I've seen news about blizzards and stuff, it's always got cars spinning out or getting stuck."

"Well don't jinx us," Ben said, a lift of humor in his voice. "I'm not dressed warm enough to push the car out of a ditch."

"Right, sorry," Jesse said, his mouth finally giving a more relaxed twitch. Shifting closer to Ben, he settled his hand higher on his thigh. The car revved a little higher as his foot suddenly pressed harder on the gas, and Ben quickly took a breath to steady himself as he tried not to focus on the heat behind the touch.

"What's the cross street again?"

Though his stomach tightened at the sudden speed, Jesse willed himself to relax. "West Oak," he said, his thumb rubbing in light circles. Ben gave a breathless laugh.

"Hoping to take my mind off the stress, are ya?"

Jesse gave a snort. "No, trying to take my mind off the road." He leaned close, kissing Ben's neck. "But two birds, one stone works for me."

Ben slid one hand off the wheel and sideways, running down the seam of Jesse's slacks. "Distracting the driver isn't exactly the best idea you've had," he pointed out with the same amusement. "But there's a parking garage at the hospital. I promise to reassure you once we're in it."

A pleasant chill ran down Jesse's spine. "Sounds alright to me," he said, resting his head on Ben's shoulder and shifting his hand to a less risque position but not pulling away.

They had to go two more levels down into the sub-basement levels before finding the morgue, and by the time they left the elevator, Ben could see his own breath. On reflex he found himself tensing, half-expecting a ghost around any corner despite the lack of proper chills. When they reached the door he slid through it, moving confidently up to the front counter, which looked empty. There was, however, the distinct hollow click of a keyboard being worked on.

With a craned look, Ben finally saw the source of the noise: a pudgy man in his late fifties, thick glasses propped on a bald head, and a lab coat that'd been made specifically for his four foot six frame. He didn't look up, only paused his typing for a sip of stale coffee.

Scouting around for a buzzer or a bell and finding nothing, Ben was forced to knock lightly on the counter top.

"Excuse me, sir?"

The dwarfish man still didn't look up, but the sigh he released carried a noticeable amount of mild irritation. He went back to typing.

"Do you need bloodwork?"

Jesse had been hanging back but scowled at the question. "FBI, sir," he said, overly loud instead of leaning in with Ben. "We need a look at the kid who froze to death."

The typing paused only long enough for the man to glance up, his tired gray eyes found Jesse first, then switched to Ben. The way his cheek tugged at one side of his mouth showed the lack of enthusiasm.

"You're FBI?" he said gruffly, then scoffed. "And I played for the Bulls. You have an appointment?" It was obvious from his tone that he knew full well they didn't.

"No, sir," Jesse said, half tempted to order the asshole around rather than doing things the hard way. But for the past three months he'd been pounding it into the Nephilims' heads that they had to use their abilities responsibly, and he was having a harder and harder time not feeling like a hypocrite. "We just got sent here on a goose chase to see if this death might be connected to a killer we've had strike in Indianapolis and Chicago, so we just need to get in, see the body, and then get out of this podunk shit town."

That earned Jesse a longer look, at least. A wrinkle of skin appeared between the coroner's brows that screamed skepticism, but it wasn't as dismissive as the first.

"He froze to death, son. Ain't no killer here, 'cept stupidity mixed with alcohol."

"We'll be the judge of that," Ben said in a firm voice, leaving no room for argument.

The man's eyes switched to Ben, not losing their edge. He sat back in his chair, adjusting the thick walking cane so it didn't fall from where it was propped, and swung the tip toward the counter. "Badges and home base number." The cane tapped a piece of paper and chained pen. "Write'em down an'have a seat."

Ben managed to hold back the scowl he felt festering inside him, pulling the paper closer on the countertop. He could feel the nerves twisting up in his gut, hoping that everything moved smoothly. It was going to be a very pivotal few minutes if they weren't careful, and it took everything he had not to simply ask Jesse to work the guy over.

Tossing his badge onto the counter, Jesse leaned back against it so the coroner couldn't see his face. "If you want me to, just ask," he said under his breath to Ben. That was the line he decided to draw; if Ben wanted it, it was okay.

"If he kicks up a fuss," Ben replied in a similar tone, finishing up the long strings of numbers before pulling out his own badge and adding it to Jesse's. Wordlessly he moved to the small line of chairs on the forward-facing wall and sat in the one closest to the door.

The coroner watched them trudge back from over the edge of the counter, then slid the paper and leather-bound IDs down to his level. Silence followed the sound of a phone receiver clicking off its base.

Back in town, at the tail end of a long Starbucks line, a phone started to ring in Claire's coat pocket. She recognized the ringer as from the disposable; one of three they bought before any hunt. Funny, since most of the time, they never had to use them.

"Must've run into a douchebag," she told Kat before putting the phone to her ear, angling away from the line.

"H.R. This is Lorena," Claire answered the phone with a purposefully thickened Chicago accent.

The diminutive coroner turned the badges around in his hands, flipping his glasses back onto the bridge of his nose. "Yeah hi, Lorena. This is Gerald Greenfield, Jackson County Coroner down in Carbondale. I need confirmation on an Agent Johnson and Agent King." He read off the two sets of badge numbers, then waited, listening to the female voice on the other end. Claire had the fake numbers memorized, and had for a long while now, but she still read them back to the roadblock as if she were typing them in a database, adding distinct pauses for effect.

"So they're on assignment?" he asked into the phone, peeking over the counter again. His expression held firm as 'Lorena' continued on, then broke into a slow spreading half-grin. "No, no trouble other than the usual 'drop everything and cater to us' attitude." He was answered by the sound of flirtatious feminine laughter, which seemed to make his eyes twinkle.

"Yeah, I thought they looked a little green." The one-sided conversation continued, but the boys badges had been pushed back onto the counter ledge. Greenfield's bark of a laugh suddenly split the morgue silence, followed by the squeak of his chair as he slid off of it. "I'll be sure to keep the smelly-salts close... Thank you much, sweetheart." The phone clicked on its receiver. Not long after, the dwarf in a lab coat hobbled around the desk on his cane, arching his eyebrows at the two men. He was smiling, but not warmly. "So who's the one with the weak stomach?"

Jesse returned a tight smile. "I think we can handle one measly frozen body."

Ben knocked one knee against Jesse's in the process of standing as a silent way to remind him not to give in to the wisecracks.

"We'd also like a copy of your reports for our records, Mr. Greenfield," he said, following a few steps behind.

"You'll need a release," the short man said, walking through the cold-room doors as they hissed; hydraulic hinges that catered to his handicap. He headed straight for the step-ladder by the stacked drawer lockers, and started to climb it. "Get that Lorena to call it in, I'll be sure to remember the photos this time," he snorted, pulling open locker Number Four.

Stepping up, Jesse only had a moment to prepare before the sheet was pulled back, his stomach turning. The kid looked mottled and clammy, the y-incision standing out in sharp red against his gray skin. Jesse could see where it started to darken to almost a midnight blue where his back touched the slab, and he knew it was because of the blood that pooled in his body. He swallowed hard, his eyes flicking to Ben.

Ben's brow was pulled together, his hand automatically finding the button to lift the body to a higher level for a better look. His eyes searched for the regular warning signs: vamp bite to the neck, absent; chest cavity, clean and undamaged save for the incisions; unusual marks around the wrists, eyes, or ears, all unapparent.

"See?" Greenfield said pointedly, leaning on his cane, even on the step-ladder. "Frozen. Had about half a keg in'im, according to the tox-screen. Just got caught in the white-out and couldn't find his way home."

Clearing his throat, Jesse focused on the man. "So that's it? There was nothing different or unusual about the body?"

Greenfield shrugged, mostly with his expression. "He got into some mistletoe sometime not long before he passed out in the snow. Not something we normally find in their stomach contents, but who knows around here. And it is close to Christmas."

Ben's frown deepened in thought. "Where was the body found?" he asked slowly.

"'Bout four blocks from the north campus, in Thompson Woods."

Ben made a mental note of the location, his eyes once again moving to the body. "And there was no other part of the plant in his system? Just the berries?"

"That's it." The phone on the desk outside the cold-room doors started to ring. Greenfield adjusted his small feet on the rungs and hobbled down. "Wrap this up quick as possible, would you?" He started for the door, speaking as he strolled through it. "I'd like to be home for Christmas."

"Absolutely. Be out in ten," Ben replied with his best charming smile, turning his eyes back to the body. When the door finally closed, he tugged out his phone and flipped open the camera option.

Jesse watched him snap the first shot before stepping back; he'd been close to the body long enough. "So mistletoe means what? Some kind of Christmas fairy?"

"If only," Ben answered distractedly, his face pinching in a scowl when the viewing panel showed up blank. He tried again, to similar results. "Mistletoe is steeped in Germanic and Celtic folklore, so at least we've got something to start from. The hell is wrong with this thing..."

"What's up?"

"Gimme your phone a sec?" he asked, his hand already held out to take it. Jesse handed it over without a word and once again Ben took another picture. The viewing panel remained blank.

"What the fuck?" he muttered. Confused, he slid his hand into the frame and took another shot, but only his hand and the empty drawer showed up in the viewing panel. "Well, there's something you don't see every day."

Scowling, Jesse looked over his shoulder. "Well shit." Something hit him. "Hey, that guy, he said something about having photos in the report this time. Which means they didn't have them before."

"How novel," Ben added, feeling a twitch of irritation. "Screw his report, it's not gonna have anything useful in it that we haven't gleaned from this whole thing. Let's get back to the hotel."

---

Jesse always hated waiting after they knocked on a door. It was before they knew anything, before they had direction, and whatever was on the other side would point them somewhere. The wait at the frat house was particularly long. Ben shifted on his feet, his eyes pointed out at the road.

"What's up with the creepy snowman?" he said quietly. "I was expecting something more naughty for a frat house."

When it finally opened, a tousle-haired teen with his shirt on backwards peered at them.

"Yeah?"

There was a quick pause before Jesse said with a smile, "Hi there. We're from the Chronicle. We understand Thomas Carlisle was at this fraternity and wanted to see if we could ask a few questions."

The kid ran a hand over his face. "Tommy was a good kid, it really sucks what happened, and if it wasn't during Christmas, the frat would've stopped him from illegally drinking. There you go."

The door had already started to close, and Ben quickly stuck his hand on it to stop it. "We're not here for info on the obits," he clarified.

The kid glared at him. "No. You're just here to make money off my friend's death. So fuck off."

Ben gave him a genuinely sympathetic frown. "This isn't just an objective story, sir; we're investigative reporters. We have reason to suspect that Tommy may have been the next victim of a string of homicides."

The kid's expression stayed solid, save for losing a bit of color. His eyes shifted down the street in both directions, then settled back on the two men on the stoop. "You know he froze, right?"

Ben made a show of looking off over his shoulder before leaning in a little closer. "That's part of the killer's MO that we've noticed so far in our investigation. But we've found potential information to disprove the autopsy reports."

"Shouldn't that be something the police do?"

Jesse gave a breath of a laugh. "Yes, it should be. But the police decided he froze to death and they don't care to look any closer. May we come in?"

After a tight-lipped pause, the kid backed more into the door, holding it open for them. When they brushed through into the overly-warm foyer, he shut it with an extra shove. The frost outside made the hinges stick. "I don't know of many killers who freeze their victims to death. Then again, I didn't know you could freeze in less than five minutes, either."

Ben felt his pulse double at the new information, but managed to keep his expression smooth and unaffected. "Liquid nitrogen is one way," he told the younger man. "Do you have somewhere more private where we can discuss this?"

"I'm the only one here." By his expression, the words 'now that Tommy's gone' got left out of that statement. Jesse's expression twisted in sympathy. He half shepherded the kid into the living room and onto the sofa, taking an armchair himself.

"That's gotta be tough. What's your name?"

"Adam," he replied, scooping up a half-empty beer. His face tightened at the taste.

"Ed Koch," Ben told him, holding out his hand. "And this is Nate Harrington, my intern."

Adam didn't immediately reach for the offer; instead, his hand had gone straight to his mouth to keep from losing any of the stale beer he almost choked on. Water rimmed his eyes when he recovered, his brows arching high. "Koch and Harrington? Those are seriously your names?"

Jesse's eyes widened slightly. "Why? What's weird about that?"

"I—" Adam looked between them, clearly baffled on how they weren't getting the joke. "I mean...Y'know, nevermind." He wiped his hand on his shirt and shook Ben's hand, then Jesse's. "Just—anyway. Tommy was only out've the bar for five minutes before... I found him like... that."

Ben had been pulling out his notepad to write down the information, but his eyes immediately rose to look at Adam. "What was the name of the bar?"

"PK's." The kid took another sip of beer. "It's this shit-hole on the edge of town."

"Tommy meet anyone there in particular? Someone who stands out in your mind?" Jesse asked. Adam just shook his head, and Ben frowned.

"Any reason you chose this bar, as opposed to the one two streets down?"

"They're cheap. I mean, the whole town's cheap, compared to Chicago, but they're really cheap. Don't really check ID, either."

Jesse nodded with a frown. Nothing was exactly screaming out of the ordinary there. "So he left the bar...why, again?"

Adam shook his head again, his throat tightened with an obviously painful memory. "He needed to take a piss—the bathroom had a line. Jus'the usual with that place."

Another nod. "And you noticed he'd been a while and went looking for him? Did you see anything? Anything at all?" Jesse's voice was firm. Adam scoffed humorlessly, running his hand through his bed-skewed hair.

"It'd only been like five minutes—I went out there 'cuz I had to piss, too. That's what doesn't make sense. I even thought I saw his shadow on the corner, under the one streetlight that was working. I tripped on something heading to meet him—it was him I tripped on."

Ben made a show of writing everything down, though his insides lurched in sympathy. He'd been on that side of anguish before, worrying about his mother. The only difference was that Tommy wasn't coming back; Adam would have to deal with it for however long he would before the pain started to fade, if ever. Ben wracked his brain trying to think of any other pertinent information that they would need, but based on what he'd heard already and what they'd found through research at home, he was already beginning to form a few ideas.

"I think we have everything we need," he said, standing. "Thank you for talking with us, Adam. If we need anything else, we'll contact you."

Adam lifted his eyes, settling them on Ben, his lips folded between his teeth with a nod. His voice was every bit as dejected as it'd been at the start. "There's nothin' more to tell."

The two of them let themselves out of the house quietly, and as they walked back toward the parked GTO, Ben couldn't help staring at the snowman.

---

"What if they're offerings?" Ben said, his eyes never leaving the massive textbook lying across his lap. "I mean, think about it. Ten a year, every year for the last ten years. What if someone's trying to summon something? It would make sense."

"What would take that long to summon?" Jesse said, lying on the bed and at least trying to read, though his eyes were starting to blur. "I mean, that would be huge. Like Lucifer-big."

Claire tried not to let that statement get to her, but it was difficult, especially with the migraine worming its way through her brain. Her eyes were closed. The cool washcloth over them had long ago gone lukewarm.

"That's a wonderful thought," she quietly sighed, her voice soft, but still dripping in personal sarcasm.

Jesse winced, sitting up. "Sorry. Just...thinking aloud."

"Lucifer's trapped in a cage," Ben told him. "With Michael and Adam. The only way to get into it is to be an angel, or to have the keys."

"Well then it's probably not a summoning," Jesse said, just short of snapping. He scowled as he looked back at his book. "Sounds like regular old sacrifice to me."

"Could be," Claire added, but stayed where she was. The headache was keeping her mind weighed down, and it wasn't doing much good for her stomach or sense of usefulness, either. Her chest lifted with a purposefully deeper breath. "Maybe an old-god."

"Never heard of gods affecting the dead before, though," Ben murmured, his eyes finally lifting to look at where Claire was resting. With a frown he lifted the book off his lap, going over to where she was sitting and taking up one of her hands silently. Without explaining himself, he began to knead the webbing between her thumb and index finger. Despite the bit of tension that melted away with another breath, Claire peeked at him from under the cloth.

"Samhain?" she reminded faintly, giving his hand a squeeze. Ben shook his head.

"Not like this. I already called Dad about it when I was running ideas. The MO doesn't fit."

"They all froze to death, with freak storms coming in. That has to mean something. Unless it's a mischief god with a real limited sense of humor," Jess grumbled.

That knocked a few thoughts loose in Claire's head. Her nose wrinkled, and a wrinkle of skin appeared between her brows when they furrowed. "...what has fun killing with Mother Nature and usually has a twisted sense of humor."

Ben continued to knead, his own expression pinched in thought as he tried to think. It couldn't be a trickster; there wasn't anything 'humorous' about the way the people died. Vengeful spirits didn't fit either.

"Y'got me."

Jesse shrugged, not in the mood. "No clue."

Clear by the general atmosphere that pulsed off them both like a bad cologne, Claire gleaned no one was following her train of thought, which made her second guess it, but—what was the harm in guessing? "Lesser gods. Sprites, nymphs, faeries. Take your pick."

Ben frowned a little. "I'll check the lore a bit more, see if I can find any indication about 'souls' being lead away from the bodies. That was my first instinct when photos weren't able to be taken." He paused briefly. "How's your head?" She looked at him, softening.

"I miss aspirin," she sighed. Her heart just wasn't in this hunt, at least not at the moment. Not this week.

Despite his general cranky mood, Jesse felt a pang of sympathy for her. "You really can't take anything? Not even one little panadol?" Claire rolled her head his way, automatically assuming the unknown word had some sort of medical value. For the effort, she gave him a small smile, but shook her head.

"Thought I'd be over the caffeine withdraw by now, too." She sighed. The statement was more for herself. "I'll be fine. I know Kat's got feelers out, I'm sure Dean does too. Maybe we just need to sleep on it."

Ben continued to frown. Going to sleep and not working on the case meant not learning anything; it also meant there would be another dead body by tomorrow.

"I think I'm gonna go stake out PK's," he said. "You should rest. The both of you should."

"No." Jesse snapped for real this time, already on his feet. "You're not going anywhere alone. Not for even five minutes."

Claire's jaw tightened, a reflexive flare of disapproval fed on Jesse's outburst. She agreed with him; she didn't want Ben going alone. The projected scent of a bar lingered in her head, though. She could go, but she'd be more than distracted inside. Pressing her lips together, she looked between them, settling on Ben. "He's right—we're doing this together. Even if it's just watching the place."

Ben scowled slightly. "Am I just not allowed to do anything by myself anymore?" Claire tilted her head at him.

"Is that what this is about?"

"No," Ben interjected. "It's— Every single time I've ever tried to do any amount of work on my own, to keep the momentum going so we don't lose headway, I always get this resistance from both of you." He let go of her hand, running both of his through his hair, then lifted his eyes to Jesse. "I've let you run off by yourself more than once, because I trusted you. Why can't you trust me? I'm not about to go running in guns blazing the moment I think I've got a clear shot."

Shying back from the accusation, Jesse almost let it slide. But they were supposed to talk, and dammit, he was trying. He did his best to keep his voice steady. "Tommy was out of sight for just five minutes. Five minutes, and he froze to death. We don't know what this thing is or how it works, except it attacks people when they're outside and alone. So you're not going outside alone, and it's got fuck all to do with trusting you."

"Oh for fuck's sake, I know what I'm doing," Ben growled out, his hands balling up into fists. Claire pushed a breath through her nose, pinching the bridge of it with two fingers before moving to sit up.

"Y'know..." Normally, Claire had a wide open mind and a nearly endless fuse. She played devil's advocate in most every situation, discussion, and argument that came her way, but her body was absolutely refusing to cooperate with the level of patience she wanted. Her back was to them both, heading for the counter, mirror, and sink. "Do what you want. Whatever you think needs to be done." Her tone was low and tired, accompanied by the rush of water, the washcloth dropped under the stream.

Jesse's stomach twisted, and the tension sagged from his expression. It didn't lessen what he felt about Ben, though he'd lost any desire to shout. Stepping in close, his hand twisting in the shoulder of Ben's shirt, Jesse's gaze hovered around Ben's neck. "I'm afraid," he said quietly. "I know you don't want me to be, but I am. I'm sorry it sounded like an order, and you can do whatever you want. I just wish you would stay with us."

Ben moved his hands to Jesse's face and lifted it so he could look into his eyes. "I can't go to sleep not knowin' what's goin' on," he said. "You know that about me. You'n Claire have had to drag me to bed ever since we started workin' together, and I appreciate that on a deeper level, but there's a pattern of death. What would you rather I do, just sit here and twitch?"

"Take us with you then," Jesse said, even as he steeled himself to be shot down. "Claire can sleep in the back. I'm not going to be able to sleep with you gone anyway, so might as well be useful."

Ben allowed himself the briefest twitch of a smile on his lips. "Hell no; I know what you do when you're bored on a stakeout." He leaned in before there was any protest to kiss him, then pulled back. "Would it make you feel better if I called Kat and had her come along?"

Jesse pursed his lips, holding his breath before letting it out slow. It wasn't what he wanted, and he hated that Ben thought Kat would be a better choice, but at least he wouldn't be alone. "A bit, yeah."

Ben caught the unsaid words in Jesse's eyes. On any other day, he might have just taken it at face value and left, but with three months away from hunting and Claire in her current state, he couldn't stay silent.

"Fine, get your coat."

It was a moment before Jesse processed his actual words, his eyes widening. "What? You— why?"

"So I can blackmail you later when I want something, why do you think?" Ben deadpanned. "You're obviously saying what you think I wanna hear, and I don't want that any more than you want me going by myself, so just get your coat."

Jesse couldn't help but give him a quick kiss. "Claire, too?" he added under his breath. Ben scoffed lightly.

"Yeah, Claire, too. Let me get her, though."

By the sink, Claire had heard most of what had been said behind her, and remained stoically silent the whole time. The water running over her hands was cold enough, the rag was saturated, but she kept washing and wringing, holding on to the dark cloud that brewed with her headache, thanks to the conversation. Ben moved to where she was standing as Jesse went to get ready, sliding up behind her but not quite touching her. Her tone had been riding the line between angry and defeated, and he didn't want to risk being shrugged off.

"You fine with sleeping in the back, then?" he asked her quietly.

She'd felt his approach, sensing it more than seeing it in the mirror. Each step closer tightened the ball of mixed emotions and general sourness in her stomach. Claire did not look up from the sink, even as she turned off the faucet. "I'm staying here."

Ben blinked, then frowned. "Any particular reason?"

"Sleeping in the back isn't exactly being very useful," she answered in the same, even tone. She was skirting the flare of extreme annoyance that had her move across the room in the first place, mainly hoping it would just go away. Talking about it wasn't helping, and she knew why; slowly but surely, her body was getting away from her. Her moods weren't strictly governed by logic, her priorities rode the crests of hormone waves instead of her surroundings, making it easier to be angry with Ben than focus on how helpless she felt in her own damn skin. "I'm fine by myself," she added, quieter, then looked up at him in the mirror. "Just like you."

Ben immediately scowled at her response, fighting off the urge to turn her around so that she looked at him properly. "I told you that wasn't what I meant."

Claire rolled her lips hard, dropping her eyes from his image in the mirror. She stood there in contemplative silence for a moment before physically turning around on her own, leaning back against the counter. "I know you, Ben. Your first reaction to anything, whatever it is, goes bone deep." She met his eyes, and felt a twinge tighten her chest. She was angry, but the target wasn't clear, not even to her. Frustration, hurt, and emotional fatigue were the sharpest things in her gaze.

Ben took a step closer, reaching out to put his hands on her forearms. "He's only happy when he's swooping in and being the hero, and you're..." he bit the word back, but it was obvious what he wanted to say. "You're not in it. I can see it in your eyes. I wasn't trying to be a dick, okay; I just want this done and out of the way so we can be safe again."

For whatever reason, his touch seemed overly-warm. It distracted Claire briefly, but his words pinched her face in an involuntary wince. No matter how hard she wanted to hold on to the vague animosity toward him, she couldn't. Her weight shifted from foot to foot in a subconscious effort to do something with the chaotic angst that flooded her lack of focus.

Her eyes watered, then dropped again, like her chin to her chest and a long sigh. "I know you do," she said softly. Though her tone had lost its subtle electricity, it still didn't change the fact that she'd be little more than dead weight in her mind. Reluctance snuck into her voice, and she couldn't directly meet his gaze. "That's why you should go."

Ben felt something in his chest clench painfully. He did not, under any circumstances, want Claire alone at the hotel. It had been his main reason for wanting to go out on the stakeout by himself in the first place: because he knew one of them needed to go, and he knew Jesse still hadn't forgiven himself for the incident with the kids back in Louisiana.

"I'm not leaving you alone here," he said, low and emphatically. "I can't do that. Not after everything that's happened. So either I call Kat and risk her screaming at me about babysitting, or you get to tell Jesse to stay, if you're so determined not to go." Hating the sound of his tone, he slid his hand up under her chin and tipped her back to meet his eyes. "I don't wanna fight with you, not tonight, but this case isn't being put on pause until the morning. There will be another person dead if that happens."

The pressure in her head and the sourness in her stomach didn't ease with the sudden wash of weakness she felt everywhere else, especially when a small voice she didn't recognize in the back of her head protested that she didn't care about what they'd find in the morning. She did care, at a cellular level, but there was still that little voice... And it was getting stronger week by week.

Claire swallowed thickly, frustrations turning in on herself. She was quiet for another moment, trying to hold on to something more positive. He was right; the sooner this was over, the better.

"I'll get my coat," she conceded quietly.

---

Jesse sat in the passenger seat, awake, watchful, and and not bored at all. And he certainly wasn't thinking of getting handsy with Ben even though he was sitting right next to him. Even if he did shoot the occasional glance his way.

The one good thing was that he had no desire to get out of the car and join the crowd at PK's. It looked like the last great bastion of pissed-off drunks and assholes, a steady stream of bikers with the occasional frat boy and professional drunk. But so far, no sign of anything strange.

"Y'know, he talked about seeing his friend's shadow," Jesse said, though his eyes were on the bar. "Not another skinwalker, do you think?"

Ben shook his head. "We wouldda seen something in the papers about murders or other mayhem with them using their faces by now. And that thing with the photos is still bugging the shit outta me." He paused long enough to take another gulp from his coffee before adding, "I've never seen anything like that before. Dad hasn't either, and he's been in the biz a long time."

"So it's probably something unique. Or really rare, right? We'll have to be careful until we get a real handle on it."

"Right," Ben replied, his eyes having never left the doors of the divebar. "Safety first."

Jesse almost reached on to give his leg a squeeze. No, business only. And I'm not bored. "What connects the victims? There has to be something."

Ben worried his lower lip between his teeth, his brow furrowing. "Don't know until we go back and interview the surviving relatives or friends. It happened last year; we'll have to start there."

Jesse watched a bit longer before glancing back to check that Claire really was out of it. He bit his lip. "She was a bit snappy today, wasn't she?"

It was those words that finally had Ben's gaze move, and only long enough to look in the rearview mirror. She was wrapped up in a blanket with her back to them, blond hair peeking out from beneath her hat and the denseness of her coat.

"Mom was too, with Krys," he said quietly, hazel eyes once again out the window. "It's typical."

The laugh died before it had a chance to escape. He couldn't help thinking how unnecessary the whole thing was. But he knew neither of them would appreciate it. "What else is typical?"

"The throwing up," he said, drumming his fingertips on the dash. "The thing about smells. The not-sleeping-well, though it'll probably get worse before it gets better." He brought one hand up behind his neck and rubbed it, a faint color touching his cheeks. "She got extra affectionate near the end of it. In more ways than one, from what I remember overhearing."

Jesse pulled a face. "Near the end? But fuck, wasn't she huge?"

"Didn't seem to slow them down," Ben muttered.

"Gak!" Jesse shook his head. "I'm freaked out enough with that bulge she's got going. Can't imagine riding a full on prego."

Ben gave his shoulder a well-meaning knock. "Don't be insensitive. She's got needs just the same as anybody."

One of the drunks from the bar came stumbling out, took three steps off to the side, and threw up. Ben winced. If possible, Jesse's expression twisted with more distaste. "It's coming up on 2 AM, mate. Don't you think the thing would've shown by now?"

"Take a nap if y'want," Ben said in a distracted voice, watching the drunk as he started the slow stumble through the snow. "I'm gonna wait it out."

Going a little sullen, Jesse looked back at the door. "No, I'm fine."

Ben slid his hand down to rest on Jesse's knee. "There's a Monster in the bag if you want it."

"Wha...? Fuck, your drink names here," Jesse said, settling a hand on Ben's as he leaned forward and dug in the bag. Ben blinked for a moment in confusion before grinning wide and biting his free hand to keep from laughing out loud.

"Sorry."

Claire had been drifting in and out of consciousness, mostly only long enough to pull the blanket tighter around her shoulders. Too long being still in a too-short back seat, however, made her rest pretty restless. She found herself staring at the stitching on the seat cushion, still somewhere between mental fog and sleep. The boys' quiet conversation and stirring was background noise, but it was movement that drew her attention out the window.

She shifted, peering up through the glass to the angled landscape, thinking the shadow was just a big snowflake. Ben caught the movement in the back seat and turned to look up into the rearview mirror, his eyes softening.

"Y'alright back there?"

"S'it snowing?" Maybe her eyes weren't focused yet.

Jesse glanced back at her, then out the window. "Yeah, a bit. Why?"

"Thought I saw something moving back here," she said in a sleepy voice, almost dismissive. Claire started to sit up, sighing at the crick in her neck. Ben immediately turned his neck and craned to look, trying to see what he thought she'd seen. Sure enough, the drunk that had started stumbling off appeared to have two shadows. Ben reached for his gun on reflex. Jesse jerked at the sudden reaction, his adrenaline jumping as he spun in his seat. The movement had Claire's attention, too.

"What?"

"Guy's got two shadows," Ben said quickly. In spite of promising he wouldn't run straight into battle, he had to stop the guy from getting killed. He couldn't just sit idly by. He shoved the door open with his shoulder, bolting across the street.

His breath catching, Jesse looked at Claire, then scrambled through Ben's door. "Stay here!" he shouted at her before he slammed the door shut and took off at a run.

A few profanities shot through Claire's mind as the GTO vibrated with the slammed door. She stared through the window at their running figures, thought processes trying to catch up with some semblance of a plan.

"Hey!" Ben shouted with authority toward the drunk. He turned his head toward Ben and Jesse at a delayed pace, eyes suddenly going wide as he stumbled and attempted to run away from them.

"Stop!" Jesse ordered, the man almost falling over as he was forced to obey.

"I didn't do anything!" the man babbled, wide-eyed and terrified. Ben suddenly regretted not having grabbed the salt canister in the glove compartment.

"You have to get inside!" Ben snarled out, grabbing the man by the shirt and yanking him to his feet. He immediately tried to free himself. "Now!"

"Okay! Okay, okay!"

The moment Ben let him go, he immediately moved into the nearest gas station convenient store. Claire was ready to jump out of her skin as she watched through the crack in the window, the heavy grip of her gun ready and poised just out of sight, but she didn't open the door. Rear-views were just as important, and if she was going to be their cover for the next six months, then so be it.

But as the checks ran through her head—placing Jesse and Ben, placing the one they were tracking—the realization struck her.

"It's gone!" she called out at them. "The second—it's gone!"

Jesse whipped around at the words, looking at Claire, then at the ground. "That—That's a good thing, right? Means it's left?"

"Not necessarily," Ben said in a paranoid tone, his eyes moving rapidly around them as he searched for the out-of-place thing that might give them a clue as to where the second shadow went.

Turning another full circle, Jesse suddenly stopped, looking down. "Ben? Those aren't from your boots, are they?" he said, pointing to a set of footsteps. Footsteps that followed right behind the drunk's, and then just stopped. Ben looked down, then blanched, bringing his gun up to level and surveying their surroundings with wide, sweeping looks.

"Get back to the car," he said in a low voice. "Slowly. I'll cover you."

Swallowing, Jesse started backing up. "As long as you're coming with."

"I'm right behind you," Ben answered, a wary smile coloring his words as he back-peddled toward the car. Claire watched them both like a hawk, already reaching into the front seat to push open the door.

Sliding in, Jesse didn't let out his breath until Ben was safely inside. "Shit, I hate invisible ones. They're the worst."

Ben gunned the engine to life in an instant, immediately shooting down the street at the fastest speed he could muster.

"Well, I think we've got a lead, at least," he said, his heart still racing and his eyes frozen on the little gas station as they passed it. Claire had a hard grip on the seat back between the boys, swallowing back the throb of nausea riding her adrenaline. Her eyes snapped from window to window, keeping watch. Out the back, caught in the red haze of the GTO's taillights, she saw it.

"What the hell—?" she breathed, squinting for a closer look.

On edge, Jesse looked back quickly. "What? What's wrong?"

"...it's a—snowman?" She sounded more disturbed than confused. Right there in the middle of the tracks made by the car, it sat, like it'd been dropped from the sky. Ben's eyes flicked up to the rearview, catching sight of the thing and pressing a bit harder on the gas. They were definitely going to barricade the doors and windows that night.

---

It wasn't the first time Claire had acted like a college student, though in the back of her mind she had to wonder how long her looks would let her keep it up. With the right clothes, manner of speech, and a little research in the area, she could look a good handful of years younger than she was, but she was pushing the end of grad-school age now. Not to mention the other time-line staring her body in the face.

That was still easy to hide, but not quite as simple to forget when the smell of body odor and old smoke, puke, and wood varnish threatened to strangle her with every breath in PK's. Even at three in the afternoon, when the only occupants were the three of them and the ancient-looking biker behind the bar. Adjusting her eyes to the dark from the insane-bright of the snowy street, she slipped in through the heavy wooden door, behind held back by Ben's shoulder—Jesse on her heels.

"Not too early, are we?" she smiled at the bartender automatically when he looked their way. Just a couple friends out for drinks at the cheapest bar in town. Had nothing to do with the second body found frozen in the alley early that morning.

"Happy hour's in twenty minutes," the man behind the bar grunted in a very un-happy manner. "Did you want a menu?"

"Yeah, sure," Ben answered dismissively.

The place wasn't large but Jesse took to wandering, peering in the empty booths. "Digging the place, man," he said in his best American accent, which was a bit more West Coast than Midwest. "Got that rustic, real feel."

The bartender arched his bushy eyebrows at him in skepticism as he passed them each an aged laminated menu.

"Been in the family a good long time. Pillar of the community or some shit. What can I startcha for drinks?"

"Water," Claire muttered, sitting on a stool and sweeping the place with another glance. Besides being a real dump, nothing stood out.

"G and t," Jesse said, though he still wandered, testing the creaking floor.

"Rum and coke for me, thanks," Ben said. "Got any cool stories?"

Giving him a dry look, the bartender prepped their drinks. "It's a bar, son. You ever been in one, you know what kinda stories go on."

"How'bout the one in the news this morning?" Claire offered up just as flat, pushing her eyebrows up at the old man in a challenging, but still 'playful' manner. As much as she could, anyway. The bartender passed her the water she'd asked for, giving a wry smile and shaking his head.

"Awful thing, what happened to Pete. But honestly? The guy was a waste'a space. Owed a lotta people money. It was only a matter'a time before karma caught up to him."

Some of the light dimmed in Ben's eyes and he dropped his gaze to where his hands rested on the bartop. The fact that they'd managed to save the guy, only for him to die anyway, had really upset him.

"So what happened?" Claire pushed on, making sure to keep her tone vaguely dismissive. The leads were drying up, frustrations were mounting, and now there was another body-this bar was at the center of it, far as they could figure. Being so direct usually wasn't in Claire's comfort zone, but they needed a bone to chew on. This needed to be done. "All they said was they found'im outside..."

The bartender shrugged. "You'd have to ask the cops. I don't know no more than anybody else."

"You had to have heard something," Jesse said, finally coming around to lean on the bar. A curious smile played on his lips. "Or seen someone go out after him. C'mon, man, tell us what you know."

The bartender finished off their drinks, passing them to either man, a scowl on his face. "Y'know how hard it is for me to notice something less than three inches away from my face durin' a night, kid? I get thirty or forty people a shift, and that's just in the winter; I don't got time to be watchin' fer shit ain't demanding my immediate attention. So no, I don't know nothin'. Maybe you should ask his poker buddies."

Claire toyed with the straw in her glass, but didn't actually drink from it. Call it instinct, but she wasn't touching anything in this bar. She wasn't planning on staying here any longer than necessary, either. "Those poker buddies know how to deep freeze a man in five minutes?" Though her eye contact remained steady, same as it had been earlier, Claire's tone had dropped to somewhere between casual and secretive.

The bartender stared at her for a moment before busting out into a belly laugh.

"That's funny, lady. Thing is though, most people who're drunk, they can't feel nothin' anymore until it's too late. That's the trouble with drunks."

"You see many of them go that way?" Jesse said, leaning forward, his expression overly eager.

"In the winter, yeah." The bartender looked between the three of them. "Can I see your IDs? In all this drillin', I forgot t'ask."

As Ben and Jesse shuffled out their predesignated fakes, Claire just bit back an unamused smirk. She wasn't convinced this guy was just a boob-bartender who lost track of customers, nor did she believe seeing their IDs had anything to do with liquor laws.

"Ain't you got one?" the geezer asked, arching a brow at Claire. Her own pushed up slightly.

"Drinkin' water," she reminded him. "And I doubt you think I'm under eighteen."

"Fair enough," he muttered, pulling the IDs up and out a small distance. "Maryland, eh?" came the next question, aimed at Ben. "Bit of a ways away. What brings ya to our little podunk town?"

Ben gave him a thin-lipped smile, then slid his arm around Claire. "We're getting married, actually."

"That right? Congrats to you two. Too bad about the snow, though."

Jesse shrugged. "I figure snow's good luck. Y'know, like if a bird shits on you."

Ben snickered, but the bartender didn't seem as easily amused.

"Don't underestimate the weather 'round here, kids," he said solemnly. "It's all too easy to get snow blind or lost out there."

The door jingled as another person entered the bar.

"Hey, Jack!" A feminine voice called out. Her hood came down a moment later and she shook her fingers through her long, dark hair. "Can I get a to-go special, extra slaw?"

The bartender smiled some. "Comin' right up, Leslie."

Leslie's eyes fell on the three of them with a stranger's curiosity, but she made a point in not staring, her feet slowly leading her in the direction of the little jukebox occupying one corner of the bar. Jack the bartender moved out of sight, most likely into the kitchen to fix up her order, which left the three hunters mostly alone. Ben drained half his glass before he said, "So I guess it's back to checking on the family?"

Claire nodded, rather thrilled with the idea of getting out of this place. Tossing some cash on the bar, Jesse downed the last of his drink and shot a grin at Leslie before leading the way outside. At least this part of investigating had some perks.

---

Ben worked to iron his suit jacket quickly, his eyes on the clock rather than at the two bodies currently dressing and prepping not too far behind them. Kat would be there any minute to join up in the interview process, and Ben had pulled the short straw to call her and invite her along. It would mean covering more ground, and with another body soon to be taken, they needed to work fast.

There was a sharp rapping at the door, and he moved quickly to open it, finding the older hunter on the other side with a slight scowl to her expression.

"Heya, Kat."

"Hi," she said flatly, walking in and letting him shut the door behind her.

Jesse shot her a wide smile as he buttoned up his shirt. "Afternoon, Kat. Thanks for coming around to lend a hand. We've been hitting empty here."

"About that," Kat said, her voice a little louder and with a decent amount of weight to the words. Her eyes immediately fell on Claire. "I think you three should do what you came here to do and move along."

Claire's eyes moved to Ben first, her effort to twist her hair back momentarily put on pause.

"What?" Ben blurted, his face twisted in confusion. "Why? It's a hunt, Kat, and we need—"

"To take care of each other, and go," Kat interrupted, her tone firm. "You've had a hard enough year, what with two friggin' kidnappings and whatever the hell else you aren't telling me. No. You don't need to finish this case. I'll take care of it. I owe you one anyway, if I'm not mistaken."

Jesse glanced at Claire, then back at Kat, his expression firm. "We're not going. This isn't a one-person operation, especially since we don't know what we're dealing with yet."

"I've already called in two friends of mine," Kat returned swiftly. "They'll be here in four hours. It's cutting into a case they've been working on for a few months, but they're having trouble tracking down the critter behind it. They're itchin' to kill somethin'. It'll be fine." Her eyes turned again to Claire's with a quiet sort of pleading. "Please do this."

Something had been twisting in Claire's gut since the start of this conversation, and it wasn't morning sickness. She leaned against the sink counter, letting her hair fall and taking a deep breath. Kat's expression mirrored how she felt inside, and it was impossible to brush aside.

"Give us a sec, Kat?" she asked, some pleading in her own voice she couldn't fully hide. Kat nodded and headed out the door again, already pulling out a pack of American Spirit cigarettes as the door fell shut behind her.

Once the door was closed, Claire looked directly at Ben. Her lips fell slightly open, prepared for speech that she wasn't sure on yet, but it was clear on her face what she was thinking.

Ben felt something inside his chest constrict at her look and he swallowed. "If this is what you want," he said quietly.

Jesse looked between them, brow wrinkled. "We're just going to leave these people to get hurt?" he said bluntly. Ben turned to look at him with a muted sort of surprise, not having expected that answer after all the times Jesse had argued about them choosing to walk away.

"We're not exactly getting much accomplished as it is, and if Kat's got help on the way..."

"But it's not our fault. I mean, if we can't do it, who's to say Kat will do any better?"

"She's been doing this a lot longer than any of us," Claire added quietly, almost as if she were afraid her tone might break glass. Her eyes lifted to Jesse, all the complicated things behind them went unhidden. "She also wouldn't ask us to just 'shuffle along' for anything but good reasons."

Jesse looked sheepish but still uncertain. "Like what?"

Ben chewed his lips, but stayed silent. He had a pretty good idea what Kat's motivations were for intervening, and a small part of him was grateful that she would be willing to pick it up for them after how they'd last left her. Yet at the same time, he hated the idea of walking away from a case, even if it meant with Claire and Jesse at his sides.

There was a long pause before Claire answered, and when she did, it was uncertain, or weak.

"She's worried about me."

"Like I said," Ben repeated in a low voice. "If this is what you want, then we'll go. If you trust her, I trust her." He rolled his lips before adding, "But maybe we could compromise. Two more sets of eyes would definitely get us beating this thing faster."

"Just a couple days, at least," Jesse said with a shrug. "I get being worried, but we're being careful. It's not like we're putting you in any more danger than you've been in."

Claire pressed her lips in a line, fatigue and effort in her eyes. She nodded, though, watching both of them.

"Two days," she started, leaning back against the dresser. Ben nodded, moving over to where she settled and leaning in to kiss her.

"I'll go get Kat," he said quietly, then turned and headed out the door.

Biting his lip, Jesse took Claire's hand. "Hey, if you want to hole up here for today, do it. We can make this room a fortress and I can handle things on my end alone for a bit."

Her eyes had followed Ben on his way out the door before falling on Jesse's face with his touch-cue. Lots of things swirled behind her gaze, but none of them weighed enough at the moment to be given a voice. She didn't want to concentrate on what she was feeling, nor did she want to argue—not with them, and not with herself.

Without saying anything, her hand tightened in his; she leaned forward, cheek on Jesse's suit-jacket shoulder, finding the quiet comfort there. Jesse wrapped his arms around her, though he couldn't help but frown. He didn't know what she needed, but he felt like he wasn't giving it to her right then.

"Just be careful," she uttered, almost whispered, slipping her hands into his pockets. "Both of you."

---

Jesse had expected something different from the hunters Kat had called in. Older, definitely. And more worn down, like Sam and Dean. Michael, however, was young. And fit. And ridiculously good-looking.

Not to mention sitting next to him in a very warm car. Jesse tried not to pay too much attention to him, which meant he only glanced his way every five seconds or so. Pulling up to the house was a relief.

"So, how d'you want to play this?" Jesse asked.

"Kat only really gave us the jist over the phone," Michael answered honestly, his Midwestern accent giving a slight lift to his vowels. "I'm more'n happy coverin' you, man. If there's a question needs askin', I'll be sure to speak up."

Jesse wanted to object and insist that he was still the newbie in all this, but losing face in front of Michael seemed an even worse fate than just bungling the whole thing. This would be the first time he was taking the lead, though, where there was an absolute moratorium on his powers.

"Alright, sure, sounds good," he said, getting out of the car before he could find another reason to hesitate. He didn't look back as he headed for the door, putting on his FBI face.

A few moments after they'd rung the bell, the sound of a lock being unfastened preceded an open door. Behind it was a nearly overly-tall redheaded woman in her late twenties, a confused and expectant look in her brown eyes.

"Yes?"

"Melissa James?" Jesse asked; she nodded. "I'm Special Agent Terry, this is Special Agent McGinnis. We were wondering if we could ask you a few questions about your brother, Owen."

Melissa squinted at the two of them for a moment, obviously caught off guard and clearly not thrilled with it. "Right now? Why?"

Jesse nearly winced in sympathy. "I'm sorry we have to bring up what was probably a painful time for you, but we have reason to suspect your brother's death wasn't as accidental as first thought. May we come in?"

The freckles on her nose wrinkled in thought. Melissa shot a look over her shoulder into her house before sighing, then backed into the door to let them in. Leading the way, Jesse glanced around. The place seemed nice enough, if small. They walked right into the living room and he waited for Melissa to sit on the armchair first before settling onto the couch. Michael sat next to him. Not that he particularly noticed or anything.

"I won't mince words, Ms. James. Recently there were two deaths that were very similar to your brother's, and there is enough evidence to suggest that it isn't all coincidence. I know it was a while ago, but if you could tell us everything you remember about that time, it could help our investigation."

Pulling a face, she folded her arms across her middle and shook her head. "Everything I remember? That's kind of a tall order."

Michael gave her a kind smile. "We'll start with the important parts and work our way down: It said on the report that you had seen him the night that he died. Did he seem nervous at all? Upset?"

"Drunk," she corrected, her voice fell somewhere between sadness and an old irritation. "Hammered, actually. It was a few days after a bad break-up."

Michael's brows lifted. "What was the woman's name?"

"Lydia Carmichael. She moved to Chicago."

"Do you know where he'd been that night? Or did he get drunk at home?" Jesse asked, a little more weight behind the words.

"We went to Sidetracks first, but they were too crowded—we ended up at PK's. I left him there..." Melissa rubbed at a worry-spot on her temple, sighing again. "I should've stayed."

Jesse stared, his brain having ground to a halt the moment she said "PK's." Michael looked briefly sideways at him out of the corner of his eye before barreling on.

"So you say your brother was drunk," he started. "Did he have a history of drinking, or was this a one-time thing?"

"Hardly a one-time thing, but he wasn't a drunk. No one blamed him."

"What were the names of his haunts? We're cross-referencing them with the data we've collected so far. It would be very helpful," Michael said.

Melissa shrugged tiredly, then shook her head lightly. "PK's, Tracks, The Cellar sometimes. He just went where his friends went, which was where the cheap beer was."

Michael looked more deliberately sideways at Jesse, brows lifted in a silent question. Jesse looked a bit uncertain but said, "Okay. Thanks, that's helpful. I think that's all we need?" He didn't mean it to come out as a question, and Michael quickly covered it by nodding and giving another quick smile, standing and offering his hand.

"If we need any more information, may we contact you again?"

"You know," she started again, then paused as she mulled over her thought. She moved her eyes to Michael, then Jesse in turn. "The police didn't really do much, since it was an accident and all—but that asshole at PK's, he's still there. There's a lot of accidents around that place. He really should lose his license."

"The bartender?" Jesse blurted. "What do you mean 'asshole'? What'd he do?"

"He just... seems to pick people he doesn't like."

Jesse's frown deepened. "Pick people? How?"

Melissa's brows furrowed, her voice darkened by a show of frustration. "How should I know? He's an asshole."

Michael gave her a sympathetic smile and a nod. "They tend to be," he commiserated. "We'll look into it, though. Thank you for the tip."

She nodded, everything about her face and posture lacking enthusiasm as she stood from the chair to let them out. Michael paused on the other side of the door, staring at the front yard.

"Creepy snowman," he pointed out, frowning.

Jesse hissed in a breath. "Get in the car," he said, walking quickly to follow his own advice, his eyes following the snowman. It remained unmoving, but what made it even more unsettling was the tracks that lead up to it but suddenly stopped.

As soon as he was inside, he said, "I didn't see that coming in, did you?"

Michael started texting his partner the moment they were in the car. She had been on scope-out duty in front of PK's, but his face was mostly calm at this new reveal.

"Next survivor, or is this enough to go on?" he asked in a far-away sort of voice.

"It's enough for me. Everything keeps centering around that place, and that fucking snowman isn't a coincidence," Jesse said, jaw firm as he pulled out. "We gotta take that guy down, tonight."

Michael looked up once the text was sent, meeting his look with a solemn nod and frown of his own. "I'll send Kat a text and let her know we need to pull back and regroup." He chewed his lower lip, brows coming together before adding, "You said you saw the snowman before?"

"Yeah. At PK's, last time I saw one like it."

Michael made a thoughtful noise, grabbing for his bag where it was resting at his feet and pulling it up to pull out his notepad computer.

"I wonder if..." he muttered absently.

"What? You recognize it?" Jesse said quickly.

Michael shook his head, his world-roughened fingers taping out rapidly against the touch screen. "No, but it sounds a lot like golems."

"Golems? Like from—" Jesse stopped himself short. "Like the kind made of clay?"

Michael nodded. "They can be made from organic matter. The more fluid movement, the better; so clay, mud, vinery sometimes. Never heard of a snowman, but..." his lips twisted wryly. "There's always that Frosty the Snowman story. Maybe there's some merit in it."

Jesse's mouth fell open, almost into a smile. "Fuck me. It is evil snowmen."

"I'm looking up th—" he was interrupted by the notification on his phone, which he quickly checked. He snickered before pocketing it again. "I'm looking up the lore now. Kat says she'll meet us at the hotel in ten."

---

Claire's hand felt numb, having propped her chin and cheek for the last god-knows-how-long while her other hand twitched over her laptop's mouse field. She'd been picking out everything that seemed even remotely relevant; now three hours into the task of actually reading through it all, the words were starting to blend together. This didn't usually happen until she was well into her twentieth hour of research, but that'd always been dependent on caffeine.

She closed her eyes and pinched the corners, like that would reset everything. It didn't, but at least she got a break from reading, thanks to the opening door. Kat's daughter Serah looked up at the sound, lips turning up in one corner as her mother and Ben came through first.

"This mean I can have a smoke break now?" she said to her mother, her tone and wording eerily similar to the older woman's. Kat gave her a frown, then nodded.

"Stay close," she told her firmly. Serah immediately stood, grabbing her coat and slipping out the door. Ben went straight to Claire, dropping a kiss to her forehead.

"Jess should be here any minute."

Claire nodded tiredly, giving his hand a squeeze.

"Any leads?" she asked both of them, stiffly sitting back in the hotel chair. Kat settled in the chair her daughter vacated, opening her jacket and unbuttoning the first button of her Oxford shirt.

"Another patron of PK's," she reported. "Mikey sent word they got the same."

Ben's expression grew a little solemn. "There was another snowman, too."

"Fantastic," Claire sighed.

There was a click and the door opened sharply, Jesse brushing in with Michael right behind. He stumbled, though, at finding the room so full.

"Hey. Back. Up to speed?" he said, looking between them. Ben moved to fill up the little paper hotel cups with coffee for all of them.

"We haven't been here that long," Kat replied, her eyes turning to Michael, whose mouth was pressed in a line.

"I think the snowmen are golems."

Claire stared at him for a moment of workable silence, then sighed at her laptop screen.

"Makes sense—kinda. Not real sturdy ones..."

"Don't need to be sturdy," Michael answered with a nod. "Just need to get the job done. If a guy's drunk, that shouldn't be hard. And it would explain the need for snow, if whatever's controlling them is tied to the element."

Ben brought them back their coffees, which Michael took with a grateful smile and Kat a muttered thank-you.

"Definitely explains the freezing, but how would golems have the power to do that?"

"Whoever's controlling them. They gotta have that kind of power," Jesse said with a nod. "Golems are only as good as what's put into them."

"Awesome," Kat said flatly. "So what's the deal with PK's, other than it being a huge divebar?"

"That creepy-ass bartender's got something to do with it. At least that's what the sister said," Jesse said, his voice a bit quick. "Said he was kinda focused on our vic the night he died."

Ben's eyes widened, then he scowled. "Why's it always the creepy old bastard who ends up being the one to kill them all? No fun in that."

"Didn't realize this was supposed to be fun," Kat answered gruffly. Ben's teeth clicked with the suddenness of his going quiet, and Michael gave Kat a swat to the shoulder.

"Don't be a dick, Kat. It's not every day we get to fight a he-witch this strong."

"...don't think it's a he-witch," Claire spoke up after a moment. She'd been sifting through all the saved pages on her screen, filtering out the irrelevant and searching for more specific things. "Look."

With the touch of a button, the page blew up on the screen. The majority of the image was an old black and white engraving of an gnarly, ancient looking man in the woods, seemingly controlling a harsh blizzard. The caption embossed the name 'Jack Frost'.

Michael leaned over to look at the screen, brows raising. "A fairy? He's a fairy?"

Kat scoffed loudly. "No such thing."

"But Kat—" Ben immediately blurted. "Don't you know that anytime someone says 'I don't believe in fairies,' there's a fairy somewhere that falls down dead?" Claire's chin dropped with a huff, wondering if Ben knew the hurricane of jokes that quip would bring on him. Michael had been midway through a sip and choked.

Kat rolled her eyes, then said in a deadpanned voice: "Then how are you still alive?"

Jesse let out a hard snort of laughter though his face was quickly turning red. Claire clamped down on the inside of her lip, biting back a bit of laughter in light of the situation. The door suddenly opened, Serah and another woman appearing in the doorway. Serah looked between the lot of them, her brows rising.

"Did I miss something?"

Michael snickered, meeting eyes with the woman at Serah's side. She smiled back at him, coming over to his side and leaning against him as easily as breathing. Jesse quickly looking away. Ben found himself staring a moment.

"So how do we kill this sumbitch, Clairey?" Kat asked pointedly.

"Looks like..." she paused for a moment to scan the screen. One hand went into her own hair, kneading the back of her neck. "—Christ, I hate this archaic crap. Best I can figure, a holly stake in the heart."

Jesse looked over at her, eyebrows raised. "Stake through the heart? You sure? 'Cause y'know that's how people thought you killed vampires."

"Yes, and until two seconds ago, we all thought Jack Frost was a bad 90's movie."

"It is a bad 90's movie," Michael's partner added with a wry smile. "But holly shouldn't be hard to track down, given the givens. You'd think he'd be less inclined to make it snow in the friggin' winter when they sell holly by the truckload at most stores."

"Because making it snow in summer wouldn't draw any attention at all," Jesse said dryly.

"I've seen it snow in March out here sometimes," Michael commented. Ben frowned in thought.

"Does it have to be a stake?" he said slowly. "Maybe we can bust out the crossbow, get him from a distance. Something tells me walking up to the guy isn't gonna be an easy feat."

Claire made a contemplative face, shooting it toward Kat. "I don't see why not?"

"C'mon," Kat said to her daughter, already rising from her chair. "We're going shopping."

Serah rolled her eyes. "So much for a quiet vacation." She turned to Claire, giving the other woman's arm a light squeeze. "Seeya later." Claire flashed a small, but genuine smile toward Serah, then made a point to blow Kat a sardonic air-kiss.

Jesse, however, was still looking at Ben. "We don't even know for sure he's the one; shooting is a bit premature." He glanced at Michael and his girlfriend before adding, "We should talk to him first."

"We could run in and observe him a bit," Michael said. "He hasn't met us yet. We could easily track him while you guys handle recon."

Ben gave a nod. "Sounds good to me. You got my cell, yeah?"

Michael nodded. His partner was already halfway out the door, on Kat's tail.

"We'll call you the moment we get a chance," she added. The room seemed twice as loud with the sudden absence of the other four people.

His brow furrowing in concern, Jesse looked between them. "Never thought I'd be saying this, but bit of a quick jump to using crossbows, don't you think?"

Claire looked at him, turning in the chair, leaning back against it enough to make it creak. "They're not running to tag him right now—we're covering options." Her own brows pushed down, creasing the skin between them.

Ben had already resumed in reading the entry over Claire's shoulder, and was silent for a moment before saying, "He's controlling their souls."

"Wait, what? All I ever heard Jack Frost did was make ice ferns on windows," Jesse said, sitting down hard and looking uncomfortable.

"The golems appear as shadows, then manifest as snowmen," Ben said evenly. "He's able to summon snow. He's a fairy. Fairies are about as greedy as demons when it comes to souls, man. Even if we burned the bodies right now, it wouldn't make a difference so long as he has control of them."

"What do you feel like doing next?" Claire asked toward Jesse, gently, despite the ache in her voice.

Jesse shifted in his seat. "I mean, just make sure he is what we think he is. And see if he'll stop, or if there's a reason he's doing what he's doing."

Ben frowned a little at him, then realization dawned on his face. His expression turned pensive.

"Yeah, sure. Of course."

The room felt heavy. Jesse got to his feet, heading for the bathroom. "I can talk with him. It'll be safer that way."

Ben's expression immediately tightened, but he stayed silent. Claire looked between them, settling on Ben when Jesse's back slipped through the door. She had the distinct feeling she was missing something. The door clicked and moments later the sound of the shower filled the hotel room with white noise. Ben settled on the edge of the bed, running both his hands through his hair.

"God, having morals really sucks sometimes."

Claire just raised her brows at him, even if he wasn't looking. The phrase 'preaching to the choir' slipped into her mind, but she ignored it, scooping up the car keys from the edge of the table. Ben looked up at the sound, his eyes tracking her movements.

"You're going?"

"Chinese food," she answered softly, but blunt—like it were a fact of life. Threading on her coat, she pulled her hair out from the hood, looking at him in askance. "Moo shu?"

Ben rolled his lips, eyes moving to the closed bathroom door, then moving back to her. "We could order in," he supplied, the words stilted like he wanted to say more but couldn't bring himself to say the words. Claire's lips pressed, but after zipping her coat, she crossed to the bed, kissing him softly.

"It's across the street. You can come with, if you want."

Ben visibly relaxed a little more before a faint color trailed a bridge across his nose.

"Sure. Just lemme leave a note for Jess."

---

Armed with several spikes of holly, two to a person, the pack of hunters surrounded the bar. Michael and his partner were already inside, keeping tabs on the bartender and keeping a look-out for any potential victims. Kat was on stand-by just down the street, ready to come rolling at a moment's notice. That left Ben and Jesse alone in the car just outside the building, waiting for their cue. Ben could feel the tension between them, as tight as a bow string, though he didn't dare speak. After a long while, Jesse reached for his hand, threading his fingers. Some of the tension faded, and Ben gave his hand a light squeeze in response.

"Feels weird, after being away from it for a couple months," Jesse said quietly.

Ben hummed in answer, keeping his eyes on the door and his other hand firmly wrapped around the spike.

"It was only a matter of time, though," he replied. "Honestly, it's a wonder we hadn't gone stir-crazy yet."

Jesse licked his lips. "I kind of liked it."

Ben looked sideways at him for a moment, then turned his eyes out the window again. His heart ached at the words. "I know you did," he said at last.

"With Claire, though... We'll have to hole up again. Maybe even for a year," Jesse said, his stomach rolling for reasons that had nothing to do with being about to chat with an evil snow fairy. "You going to be alright with that?"

"I don't know," Ben said honestly. "This has been my whole life, man. It's kinda hard to do the domestic thing after everything I've seen." He took a breath, then let it out. "We'll have to really talk about it. Not just shove it under the rug, like we've been doin' the past few months."

Jesse nodded, keeping his his eyes on the door even as his heart sank. Part of him always knew that it wouldn't last, but he had been hoping for longer. "They're taking a while. Think I should go in?"

Ben gave Jesse's hand one last squeeze before pulling it away and fishing his phone out of his pocket to shoot Michael a text. There was a four second delay before the phone buzzed back in response.

"Mike says they're tracking a vic right now. We'll give 'em ten more minutes."

Letting out a breath, Jesse quirked a smile at him. "Any advice on talking down a monster?"

"Pretty sure quoting Spider-Man isn't gonna cut it this time," Ben answered, dropping the phone into his pocket and reaching over to give his knee a light goosing.

Jesse felt his face grow a bit warm, but he grinned wider as he shrugged. "You never know."

Ben rolled his lips lightly, his brow furrowing in thought. "It's really a situational thing, man. Not gonna lie: I've had more rejections on the offer than I've had acceptance. And he's a fairy; it's very probable he's gonna say something about being older than dirt and who are we, as puny mortals, to tell him what to do."

Smile faltering, Jesse shrugged again. "Won't get my hopes up, then."

Ben nodded, then leaned sideways to press a kiss to Jesse's temple. "You'll do fine. I trust you." A drunk stumbled out through the front doors, and two seconds later Michael and his partner came swooping in on either side of him, leading him off in the direction of their car.

"Showtime."

And there was the stomach tumbling that had everything to do with an evil snow fairy. Giving Ben's hand a squeeze, Jesse opened the car door and stepped out into the snow.

The bar was far from crowded and unnervingly quiet. Most of the people there seemed to be drinking alone, spaced out along the bar, a couple in booths. Johnny Cash crooned over crackling speakers, and one of the lights flickered overhead. Jesse took this all in a sweep before heading to the bar, meeting the bartender's eyes. The old man scowled back at him.

"Last call, everybody," he called out gruffly. "Finish up and get goin'. Y'don't gotta go home but'cha can't stay here."

Jesse leaned on the bar as the grumbling patrons started shuffling out. He tried to keep his expression placid even though his heart had kicked into high gear. Clearly this Jack knew something was up.

"Didn't need to clear out on my account," he said.

"I'm not an idiot, kid," Jack said gruffly. He brought up a hand and flicked it, and the door locked with a resounding click behind Jesse. The air felt as though it had chilled by ten degrees. "Though I'm beginnin' to wonder if you might be."

Straightening, Jesse held up his palms. "I'm just here to talk."

"Y'already did, the day you an' yer hunter buddies came traipsing into my bar," came the growled out reply. "If it was just talkin', y'would've not came back."

"If I was planning on hurting you, I wouldn't have just waltzed in here like that," Jesse pointed out. "And hell, I wouldn't've come back either, if you weren't killing people."

Jack gave him a mean-spirited smile. "What's it matter to you, kid? I'm a goddamn super-hero to humankind. Those assholes, they wouldda been rapists and thieves and politicians one day. Sometimes all three at once. I'm doin' your pals a favor."

"That's not how it works," Jesse said, his expression hardening. He took a deep breath before continuing. "Look, you don't punish people for things they might do. We certainly don't. If you tell me tonight that you will stop killing people, then we're fine. You walk away, we walk away, and you get to keep on living."

"Until someone else decides that I should be punished for my past transgressions, y'mean," Jack countered. The room chilled further, and all the windows began to frost over. "No, I don't think so. This ain't a forgiving world, kid. It's kill or be killed, and I ain't about to let anyone kill me first."

Jesse's breath came out in a cloud. "If you stop killing and leave, no one will ever find you. But the more people you kill, the more attention you'll draw to yourself. Killing me now won't make that any less true."

Jack sneered. "Does this speech work often?"

Clenching his hands to keep them from shaking, Jesse shrugged. "Worked on me."

"How ironic," the old man drawled, completely unaffected by the cold. "Given that you could easily keep running for the rest of your life and never be traced."

That sent a chill through Jesse that had nothing to do with the cold. "How... What are you talking about?"

"Like attracts like, kid," Jack told him. "I felt you the moment you edged the town. It's been a long, long time since I've met a cambion."

Jesse stepped back, his movements stiff and sluggish. "W-well now you've met another one. But you should take my word for it: life's better when you play by the rules."

The air shifted, and then Jack appeared directly in front of him. "Be careful who you threaten," he growled.

"That wasn't a threat," Jesse said, his voice sharp as he stumbled back.

The old man's eyes seemed to glow around the edges. "This is the part where I make a joke about that being a stake in your pocket or are you just glad to see me."

"And y-you're turning this place into a freezer. We both have weapons, but at least I haven't d-drawn mine." Even his growing panic didn't seem to get the blood moving faster through him, his brain fuzzing at the edges. He kept backing up, throwing a hand behind him, and when his fingertips brushed glass, it was so cold it stung.

"Them's the breaks, kid," Jack told him. "You make someone feel threatened, they're either gonna fight'cha or run. I don't run. So to answer your question, no. I'm not gonna play by your rules. Mine are older. And given the fact that your friends have kept my food away from me..." his lips twisted in a frightening smile. "I might just have to eat you instead."

Jesse shifted to the side, reaching back to try to find the door. "Th-th-that's about the worst come-on I've ever heard."

"What can I say, I have a thing for celebrities," the old man said. "Your story is famous, after all."

That actually got Jesse to pause. "S-seriously? D-didn't think anyone who wasn't a demon would give a damn."

"There's other people who live on this rock aside from humans. But it was seeing the Lady in the flesh that clued me in. Congratulations, by the way. Her birth will bring hope to all of us." He smacked his lips. "Good thing about freezing to death, though, is that you don't feel it when I rip your soul from your body and eat the parts that don't matter. Shall we, then?"

The window suddenly exploded, sending shards of glass everywhere as Ben burst through it. Jack didn't even have enough time to turn his head before the other man was rushing him, the holly stake thrust straight into his chest. Jack inhaled sharply, his eyes going wide, before his body — clothes and all — turned into ice, splintering into a million pieces and falling to the floor.

Back pressed against the wall, Jesse felt the tension in him give way and he slid to the floor. He looked over at Ben, knowing he should feel gratitude or at least relief, but Jack's words just swirled through his head like a confusing slush. Ben was at his side in an instant, arms sliding around him and pulling him to his feet.

"What'd I tell you about playing with the presets on the A/C?" he said with a slight flippant tone.

Jesse blinked at him, not sure what he was talking about, but it didn't matter. Ben oozed warmth. Jesse nuzzled him, though the heat practically burned. "Sorry. I w-was trying to open the door for you, but I couldn't find it."

"Hypothermia does that," Ben pointed out, all but dragging him through the door and leading him to the car. "Let's get the fuck outta Dodge, yeah?"

The Lady... Her birth... Frowning, Jesse breathed, "Yeah. Works for me."

---

The air was hardly cold, the sun beaming from a blue sky and glinting off the melting snow. From where Jesse stood, just off to the side and slightly behind Ben, he could see the light on Claire's face. She practically glowed. And when they settled into place and her eyes met Ben's, Jesse could see the corner of his smile.

He'd been nervous before, almost as much as Ben, although the flask in his pocket had helped hide it at least. But now, as Father Harry began to speak, a softness settled over him. Over all of them. Even Kat, standing behind Claire, didn't look as rough as usual. He couldn't help but smile.

Welcomes and opening prayers were gentle and warm, given with Harry's fuzzy smile and squint into the afternoon sun. Claire had picked a shortened, personalized religious cadence for the ceremony, which left out the signature time-consuming practices of kneeling, readings, Communion, candle lighting, and everything else. Barely five minutes into her arrival at Ben's side, they begun the meat of the service.

In a voice that was more air and warmth than actual timber, Claire repeated the time-honored vows as the priest read them to her. There was a subtle quiver just beneath her skin as she slipped the square-cut silver ring on Ben's finger, then curled hers under his grasp. The breeze was mild and fresh, billowing gently in the lace veil and spun-sugar dress, as if fixing it for photographers that certainly were not there.

Father Harry turned toward Ben in his turn, wearing the same delighted smile. "Benjamen." Claire looked from the priest to Ben's face, curious and expectant. Ben's heart, already racing at what was happening, doubled its pace.

"Here goes," he murmured quietly, swallowing before he started. "Claire, before you found me, I was lost in the woods, searching for something I never thought I'd find. It was dark and ugly, but you put so much light in me that life became bearable again." His grip on her hands tightened slightly. "You are wonderful, smart, amazing, and so strong, but not only that... you put up with me. I promise now and forever to stand beside you, to fight for you and with you but never against you, to keep you together and hold you up, and to never stop loving you, through heaven and hell, for now and always."

Father Harry's smile warmed, mostly in his eyes, while Claire's smile bloomed like the first daisy in spring. She stayed dutifully quiet, but blinked a drop of moisture from her eyes, her bottom lip caught lightly in her teeth. Watching, Jesse felt his face flush as he looked to the ground, but only an instant. While the moment felt intensely intimate, they had invited him to witness it, and that only made him feel all the warmer. Ben slid the braided diamond band onto her finger, then reached up with his free hand and grazed his thumb against her cheek to wipe her tears away. The smile that lit his face felt like it would never leave.

Still silent, Claire released her lip to shape a soundless 'I love you' before turning back toward Harry when he began to speak. "Then by the power vested in me, to God and those gathered present, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride—y'know, if you want to," he added with a cheeky grin, obviously pleased with how funny he thought he was. Ben grinned widely, leaning in to claim her mouth in a kiss, his arms wrapping around her tightly, stifling her quiet noise of delight. Claire smiled against his lips, unable to contain it for that brief second.

The rest of the brief afternoon went by in a blur. Kat had already had an inkling as to what was going down afterward and — like any good friend — paused just long enough to give Claire the item the two of them had discussed when they'd gone out for lunch the day before, then promptly left. The ride back to the hotel felt more like a surrealist dream, but once they were back inside and the door warded up, Ben felt his pulse racketing up again.

Jesse's pulse, on the other hand, had been going haywire since they first hopped in the car. Inside he was a mashed together mess of conflicting emotions. He'd snuck a couple more pulls from his flask before they left, but it didn't feel like nearly enough. He didn't know what they were going to do, or even what he was going to say, except that there was no way it could hold a candle to what Ben and Claire had just done. At a loss but unable to stay still, he stripped off his jacket.

Claire brushed the small of his back with her hand in passing, drifting in a small cloud of airy fabric and lace toward the bathroom counter, where she had to unpin the thing off her head before it gave her a headache. Ben followed her with his eyes even as he slid his arms around Jesse and pulled him into an embrace.

"You all right?"

Letting out a sharp breath, Jesse's hands automatically rested on Ben's hips. "Yeah. Yes. That was just— that was really nice. And you, what you said, that was good."

"Thank you for being there," Ben told him, brushing his lips against Jesse's temple. "Meant a lot."

Jesse's heart fluttered and he felt his tension ease slightly. "Thank you for having me there."

"You know, we have something for you," Claire added softly from the other side of the room, having freed herself from the veil, and was trying to fold it. Her eyes cut to Ben's, her brows lifted. He smiled in answer, though it dimmed apprehensively when he brought his eyes back to Jesse's again.

"So long as you're still up for it," he said quietly. "Are you?"

Swallowing hard, Jesse nodded. "'Course I am. But I..." He looked between them, his stomach twisting. "I didn't get you anything. I wanted to, I did, but I didn't know— There wasn't time—"

"Jesse," Claire soothed, crossing to them both. She settled in a natural place against Ben's side, and her fingers found one of Jesse's hands and laced their fingers together. "Take a breath. Nothin' but us, now."

"You being here is enough," Ben added, his lips once again brushing against his temple.

Squeezing Claire's hand, Jesse brought it up to his lips. "You were beautiful up there," he said quietly. "Both of you." The warmth that spread with her smile was incredibly comforting. Feeling both of them at each side of her, even if it was simple brushes at first, Claire felt earnestly care free.

She reached into Ben's suit pocket, shooting a genuinely giddy wink up at him. Her fingertips may have wandered a little before fishing out the little box hidden inside, based on the look Ben gave and the way his breath suddenly staggered for no apparent reason.

"We will always be yours," he said a little breathlessly.

Jesse blushed deep, a smile finally easing onto his face. "You got me one, too?"

"Something like that," he said as Claire cracked the ringbox open. A white gold ring circled by black diamonds gleamed in the light filtering in through the window.

His eyes going wide, Jesse turned in Ben's arms, staring at the ring and then looking between them. "Wow. That's... wow."

His reaction only made the smile on Claire's face bigger. She plucked the ring from its velvet cushion and brought it to Jesse's left-hand finger, bringing herself closer to him in the process. She nosed in close, smiling against his lips much the same way she had with Ben.

"We love you," she whispered, only soft because of the lovely quiver in her chest. Ben's hands settled on her hips from around Jesse's frame, pulling the three of them even closer.

"Now and always," he added, borrowing from his vows to Claire.

A lump seemed to seize in his throat, and for a moment Jesse could hardly breathe. He swallowed hard, the little added weight around his finger anchoring him. "I love you, too," he croaked. "Whatever happens, I'll love you forever."