Thanks for the review. I'd like to point out that I'm kind of new to the whole fanfic writing thing as I haven't written fanfics in a year and have mostly forgotten how to please an audience. This may seem rushed. But this chapter is very little compared to what is going to happen. It is merely building plot for what will happen in the near future to the characters. I hope you enjoy :)

"Claire's hurt." The words had barely left her mouth before Owen blanked her out in sheer terror. Those two singular words were ones that haunted his deepest nightmares. Owen stuttered Claire's name a few times and Barry frowned at his friend, worry etched on his features. Owen felt sick as he fell to his knees, dry heaving.

Images of Claire hurt flashed through his mind. Owen was known for his quick thinking and capability to work under pressure but the thought that Claire was hurt filled him with a terror never experienced before. The dogs barked loudly somewhere that, to Owen, seemed so far away. He knew that Claire must've been badly hurt to call anyone other than Karen, her sister.

As if only a second had passed Zara stood beside them. Owen snapped out of his trance at her sudden vocal appearance. "What happened to Claire?!" Owen yelled, his voice rising to a whole new altitude. Zara jumped as his tone and indicated for him to follow her and he did, very slowly. However his shock subsided and he felt a rush of adrenaline and then he was running.

His feet pounded in a frantic attempt to reach Zara's desk. If he was in the right state of mind, he may have thought to call Claire himself but he was far from it. His fists were balled at his sides, his knuckles had turned a ghostly shade of white and yellow.

"Mr Grady! Wait!" Zara yelled behind him and sprinted awkwardly in her heels. Owen pushed past everyone, not caring for the security man who was trying, and failing, to stop him. Zara placed a hand on his shoulder and smiled sadly. "You can take a car and head down there now if you want." Owen turned to her, scared.

"What happened?!" Zara swallowed thickly in response and started shaking. "Someone broke in. A team has been sent but they're struggling to get out there. I thought that you might be able to get there sooner." Owen ran his hand through his hair. Claire... hurt... someone broke in... Owen took a deep breath. He needed to clear his mind for Claire. To save Claire. She needed him.

"Is the person still there?" Zara fell into her seat, her skin was pale and sickly and he feared she'd passed out. "She called and said that someone was there and that she'd locked herself in your bedroom and then the line cut off. I came to find you right after sending the team." Owen nodded and patted Zara's shoulder before running to a first aid car. He didn't know if Claire was alive. The thought terrified him beyond anything imaginable

Owen pulled out his phone as he started the car. "Call 'My Baby Claire'." He was panicked and did not take the second that he usually would to enjoy the nickname she'd granted him permission to call her. He took a second to calm himself as the phone started ringing. He took deep breaths. He was no use to Claire blindsided by anger and therefore in a car crash.

"O-Owen..." He sighed and relaxed visibly. His mind raced with questions but he didn't want to overwhelm her. "Are you okay? I'm coming to get you." He heard her exhale a few shaken breaths as she hiccuped through tears. He pressed down on the excelerater once he'd hit the secluded path straight to their cabin. "O-Owen..."

"I'm right here, Claire. And I'm gonna be right there as quickly as I can. Are you okay?" He heard the sound of old wood creaking followed by shallow footsteps. "Owen-" The phone dropped with a thud as Claire started violently throwing up. Heaving and emptying the contents of her stomach. Her migraine. He'd completely forgotten the moment he'd heard her voice.

"It's okay, Claire. I'm only ten minutes away. That all. I'm nearly there." Owen wasn't sure if the reassurance was for him, her or the both of them but he allowed it to soothe him, even if only slightly. His grip on the steering wheel was tight whereas his face showed no contortion, all of his anger mustered and contained together within the palm of his hands.

"Claire? Baby? Please answer me." He begged her, unsure of what else he could do. It was then that he noticed the tree. Large and thick, about twelve foot tall and fallen. Fallen into the path. "Shit." He cursed under his breath and moved from the vehicle and to the boot.

He grabbed the first aid duffle bag and backpack and started his running once again. Sprinting, without a thought to it. He bounded toward the cabin as it peaked into his line of sight, the wood still golden brown as it always had been. The fence at the front of the house was open, as was the front door.

Owen stopped at five feet from the gate, wary and agile. By the sound of the wood she'd be treading on, he assumed she was in the shed. The house was far too new to have creaky, old floorboards. He took single steps toward the house, listening carefully. He flinched at every sound made. The phone was still by his ear but Claire was silent, her breathing deep but slow and contained.

"Claire?" He whispered into the phone and he started to suspect that the footsteps he now heard were not hers. The call was ended. He stepped into the cabin, hit instantly by the smell of vomit and the gut wrenching feeling that he was too late. He took every step with precaution. He hadn't the slightest clue as to who had broken in. Hadn't any idea what kind of madman would attack Claire. His Claire.

"Claire?" He whispered softly but with no reply. All of sudden, the silence was broken by a loud bellowed yell of "I'll get you next time, slut!" Followed by the sound of wood splitting and a pained scream that could only be made by the powerful vocals of Claire Grace Dearing.

"Get the fuck away from her!" Owen spat but to no one, the man was gone. Owen could see, in the distance, as the man ran further into the forest. He had a split second decision to make. Search for Claire. Chase the man. The former became his top priority and he turned himself to the shed.

"Claire? You there baby. It's me, Owen." He looked down at a pile of broken wood. Beneath it, laid Claire as she shook, terrified. "It's me. You're okay now. I've got you." Her eyes were blank and almost unforgivably dead. A deer caught in the head lights. Slowly, however, they adjusted and focused on him. As recognition flashed her features, the first tear fell.