A lone cloud drifted across the full moon, smattering patterns across the bare branches and frosted ground of the woods. The air was sharp with cold, and aside from the occasional rush of wind, nothing made a sound.

"Fuck's sake, Paul, keep the light on the valve and outta my face!" Roan barked, leaning deep in the guts of his truck's engine.

"Don't fuckin' yell at me!" Paul snapped back, bringing the light back around. "It's bad enough the goddamn truck broke the hell down without you yelling, asshole."

"If you'd keep the light in place, this would go faster." Roan winced, his fingers numb as they worked. "And Mason's the one who wanted to hit the January hunt, so be pissy with him."

"Trust me, I wi—"

The horn going off cut him off, scaring them so badly that they both jumped, followed by muted laughter from the man still inside the truck.

"Don't you fuckin' fall asleep, you bastard!" Paul shouted, pointing at him through the windshield. "So help me god, I will light your fucking hair on fire!"

"Gonna have him push the fucking truck back himself," Roan grumbled before pulling back. He raised his voice. "Try 'er now!"

Mason turned the key in the ignition, but the gears ground together uselessly before he stopped.

"It's still broken!" Mason's muted voice shouted through the window.

"No shit, Sherlock!" Paul shouted back.

"Fuck!" Roan kicked hard at the bumper, taking a couple deep breaths. "We're gonna have to just leave the deer and call a cab or something."

"Fuck that, man," Paul said fiercely. "I'm not leaving the deer. That's too much meat to waste, and on a lucky shot to boot. No way."

"Then I hope you have a fun night sleepin' with her, 'cause I'm callin' a cab." Roan shut the hood before digging in his pocket for his phone.

"What if we call Mason's dad? He has a truck," Paul interrupted. "C'mon, don't leave me out here. Mason!"

The other man looked up, and Paul mimed a phone with his hand. "Call your dad!"

Roan scowled but let his phone be. "Whatever. I just wanna get out of here. And I gotta take a piss." He headed into the trees, out of their small circle of light.

Nothing in the woods stirred; no frozen leaves or even the branches, since the wind stretched between gusts. Only the sound of his footsteps disturbed the stillness, and when they stopped, there was little else besides the sound of a zipper.

And a growl.

Back at the truck, Paul watched as Mason flipped off his phone.

"How long?" he asked, brows arched and loud so he could be heard.

"Half hour. Shouldn't be any traffic. Think he's gonna ream my ass out for this one, though." Mason scowled at the wheel.

"But there's deer! He'll get over it," Paul said. He took a breath to add more, but a sudden scream in the woods cut him off.

Mason looked over sharp, his breath clouding the driver window. "He catch his dick in his fly or something?"

"Fuck if I know." Paul walked to the edge of the road in the direction Roan had gone, but didn't leave the pavement. "Roan! You okay!"

There was no answer. With a click, Mason opened the door and slid out of the truck, his expression tense. "Don't fuck with us, man! Not in the mood!"

Only stillness answered them; a frozen silence that stretched on for several heartbeats. A small crack, like a dead stick breaking on gravel sounded from the treeline, where two points of faint light appeared, then were gone. The next second, a blur of movement tackled Paul to the ground. Paul shrieked, trying desperately to shove the surprisingly heavy body off of him, but his shriek was cut off as it tore into his jugular.

With a scream, Mason scrambled back into the truck, slamming the door shut and reaching for the rifle they'd stowed in the backseat. Finding the actual rounds would be more difficult and he ended up crawling over his seat to dig for them.

In one hard, smooth motion, he was yanked from the cab by his feet.

"How do you feel about southern Texas?" Ben asked, his head tilted off to the side but didn't lift from the pillow on the bed. They had left Illinois the next morning after their private ceremony and were currently on their way to who knew where, with no real goal in mind.

"S'warm?" Jesse murmured, dozing comfortably against Ben's shoulder.

"Bugs." Claire chewed on the end of a french toast stick soaked in warm syrup, fetched from the hotel's 'continental' breakfast bar. "Big ones. And snakes." In other words, things that could kill you by waiting in a shoe. They had enough to worry about.

"California? Could go to the beach," Jesse said, his mouth quirking up at the corners.

"You just wanna go surfing, you bum," Ben tossed back, giving him a poke in the the side, Jesse squirming in protest.

"I wouldn't mind the beach," Claire said distractedly, scanning through the news articles that flicked across her laptop screen.

"Florida's warmer," Ben pointed out. "The Atlantic is, I mean. Pacific's cold as a Jewish prom date. You don't wanna go surf in that in January."

"Don't care where; I'll take any beach," Jesse said, tilting his head to look at Ben. "This snow thing gets old fast."

"...huh." Claire was distracted from the conversation. She'd been reading through an article that caught her eye. "Iowa."

"Ain't a beach in Iowa." Ben craned his neck to look in her direction, tucking an arm beneath his neck. He recognized the look on her face and immediately frowned. "What's up?"

"'Two dead, one missing'—" Claire read off the headliner, then moved on to the description that really caught her eye. "—in what looks like 'cult activity'." She swiveled in the chair to look at both of them, lips pressed tight before she went on. "Their hearts were missing."

Jesse's breath stopped a moment, and then he let out a heavy sigh. "You had to go looking for something."

"I wasn't, actually..." Claire felt the need to defend herself for reasons she didn't understand. She turned back to the screen, pushing a hand through her hair. "Things just jump out. Call it habit."

Ben sat up, pulling back against the bed and watching the brief exchange silently with a frown. He and Jesse had talked about the three of them in the car just before they'd offed the fairy, but they had yet to actually get around to talking as a group. Maybe it was time.

Rubbing at his eyes, Jesse ran a hand through his hair. "We could call around, see if someone else can look into it."

"We can't keep just calling our friends and expecting them to do things for us," Ben said, his eyes on Claire. "Especially when they have their own cases to work. We're not informants; we're hunters."

Claire's lips thinned, pressed together tight. Things were going through her head that'd been there for months, pressing ever closer to the surface. They were going to come to this point eventually; she sighed and rubbed at her face.

"Look... I know I'm—gonna be slowing down soon." As if it hadn't already happened to some degree. "But until then, we gotta keep movin'; we may as well help when we can, where we can." This was Claire's way of saying I'm not useless yet, a sentiment that may have come into her eyes.

Jesse picked at the covers, eyes focused on it. "Alright. But we should talk, about what we're going to do. I know none of us are really big on planning ahead, but if you're going to have that thing, we've got to figure out what we're going to do."

Claire bristled. "That thing?"

Ben had just barely resisted kicking Jesse the instant the words were out of his mouth, and Claire's immediate response was exactly why. He moved from the bed on automatic, going to Claire's side and sliding his arm around her.

Jesse's eyes flicked up to them but only for a moment, his jaw tightening. "Fine, that fetus, or whatever it is right now. Where are we going to be in six months?"

"That fetus is your child, Jesse," Claire snapped, stiff under Ben's arm. She'd switched gears from compliantly suggestive to full attack alarmingly quick. "—now and in six months, and the rest of your life—so I'd say the first thing we need to talk about is you coming to grips with a few things."

"I've come to grips with it," Jesse said, eyes flashing as he looked at Claire. "Probably more than you. At least I know what to expect when it's born."

"Jess," Ben interjected, his voice nearly as angry as Claire's. "Stop. Unless you've been a damn psychic this whole time and never got around to tellin' us, nobody knows what to expect when this kid is born. And even then, screw destiny in the face. This kid's only as good as we are."

"Jack said something to me," Jesse blurted. He'd been trying to think of a good way to bring it up, and this wasn't, but he'd make do. "Before you killed him. I think he was talking about the kid."

Claire didn't look like any of the tension had eased in her spine, but something changed in her eyes. Instinct, anger, and defensiveness now mixed with a scrap of the bad kind of curiosity.

"What did he say."

It had been cold, and Jesse couldn't be sure he hadn't started fading at that point, but he knew he couldn't just not say anything. "He was talking about me, that my story is famous. When I was surprised, he said seeing 'the Lady' confirmed it for him. Then he told me congratulations, and that...that the kid's birth would bring hope to us all. Or them all. I don't know which group he was talking about."

Ben stared at Jesse, blinking as he tried to process everything, then scowled.

"That doesn't change anything."

Claire looked a little more diffused, but she wasn't aware she was holding her breath until Ben had said something. She didn't say anything, just released a breath a little slower than usual.

Yeah, Claire possibly birthing some twisted anti-Christ doesn't change anything at all. Jesse wished there was someone to be proud of him for keeping that thought to himself.

"Yes it does. It means angels and demons aren't the only things that might be after this kid."

"And there's no possibility that he was fucking with you?" Claire injected, sudden as the thought popped in her head. "He was old as dirt, y'know... and that kind aren't exactly known for telling the truth."

"He knew enough to know you were pregnant and that it was mine. And if he was fucking with me, he wouldn't have talked around it. I didn't really figure out what he meant until after." Jesse's insides were winding up tighter and tighter.

"I repeat," Ben said a little more crisply. "That doesn't change anything. Did you miss the part where I said screw destiny in the fucking face? You get a damn choice, Jess. We all get a choice. It's called free will for a reason."

"For fuck's sake, no amount of choosing will stop things from hunting after you!" Jesse snapped, bolting to his feet. "I'm not saying that thing's going to be evil, I'm saying we have a shitstorm headed our way!"

"Except one choice," Claire said lowly, looking straight at him. "Right?"

Jesse's jaw tightened, his eyes focusing between them. "I just want us to be prepared. Whatever choice, we need to know the consequences."

"You don't think we can handle this?" Ben countered in the same hard tone.

Meeting his eyes, Jesse said, "I don't know. Mostly because we only have a vague idea of what's coming, though heaven and hell and everything in between is a rough estimate. Are you ready for that?"

"Exactly. When do we ever know every consequence anyway?" A lot of the anger had sapped from Claire's voice, but it'd been replaced by something just as tense. "Look, we can start looking into whatever Jack said to you, but right now all we have is the word of a real nasty known liar who could probably smell this baby on me as much as he could that suede jacket liner."

"We also only have the word of a demon that the baby's mine. We could assume everyone's lying and the kid's going to be perfect and grow up to be a famous doctor-writer-astronaut. My gut tells me that neither of them were lying, so I'd rather be ready for the shitstorm and have it never come."

Ben's arm tightened around Claire, but he kept his eyes locked on Jesse's. "Claire is ready for this kid, and so am I. You're the only one who isn't prepared for it, and if that's the case, maybe you need to stop deflecting your shit on us and fix that. Nothing is getting solved the way things are now."

"Right. I'm the problem, and talking about what our lives are going to be like after it's born won't help anything," Jesse said, his words too angry to be dry. "Glad that's cleared up then."

"I signed up for this," Ben returned. "Whatever happens. Demons, angels, monsters, I don't give a rat's ass, I'll kill every single one of those sons of bitches. We're gonna keep livin' and keep fightin' the way we have since we started; that's not gonna change, even after this kid's born."

Something in the quick finality of Ben's words twisted in Claire's stomach. It came together, then. Things clicked in place where they'd only been generally positioned before.

She sucked in a breath and let it out slow, melting back into Ben and the chair. After a long pause, her eyes went up to where Jesse stood in front of them. "I'm sorry I snapped," she said in earnest, then rolled her lips and looked at Ben. "He's right on some things. I can't—I mean, I won't be able to keep up in a few months, and after the baby's born..."

"Then I'll protect you," Ben immediately finished for her. "That's my job."

"And when you're off hunting? Going to protect her then, too?" Despite the shortness of his words, some of the tension eased out of him. "Because you keep talking like you're going to do the same things you've always done."

Ben turned his gaze back to Jesse, his hands balling into at his sides. "If you're not gonna pick up the slack, then I'll be everything she needs me to be."

"Fuck you, man, I'll be there. The only difference between you and me is this—" he said, gesturing between them, "—is what matters to me. Not other people."

Ben reacted fiercely, his whole body winding tight as he retracted from Claire and started to take a step into Jesse's personal space.

"Whoa, just—hang on..." Claire said sharply, her hands up as she angled herself between both of them. Neither were directly addressed. "Look, I snapped... it was my fault, I'm sorry, and we're cooped up..." She looked between them, all scraps of anger gone. She just wanted peace now, at least enough to clear the air so she could think straight. "Please, let's just take a step back."

Jesse's jaw was tight and he kept his eyes locked on Ben for five seconds before breaking. He moved around both Ben and Claire, grabbing a seat at the table.

Swallowing, Claire went on, "None of us have been in this situation before... I'm just—I'm tryin' to roll with the punches as much as I can but—" But what? Hell if she knew. She just wanted something... "...I guess I'm just going with what's familiar. So I feel like I know what the hell I'm doing."

Ben clenched his jaw, remaining silent. He'd said everything he'd wanted to stay on the matter. After a moment, he finally replied, "I'll do whatever the two of you decide to do."

"Yeah, that won't breed resentment at all," Jesse said lowly.

"Stop it," Claire injected, obviously to both of them. She sank down on the edge of the unused bed, her shoulders hunched from fatigue. "Nobody meant anything by anything. Fuck different opinions - we're all on the same damn team."

"Well all I wanted was a game plan," Jesse said, a pout still in his voice though the anger had eased. "I need some idea of what we're going to do. I haven't even ever changed a diaper, for fuck's sake."

"And then you had to be insensitive as hell, as usual," Ben snapped. "Try and use your head before you go spewing shit."

"I overreacted," Claire looked at Ben softly, not just for Jesse but appreciative of his defensiveness. Though it hadn't been addressed to her face, she could tell her swinging moods hadn't just been a figment of her imagination; she hated how they made her feel, but thinking about their effect on them? She rolled her lips, then actually cracked a tired smile. "And I actually haven't changed a diaper, either."

"We'll figure it out," Ben returned, his voice still holding an edge of agitation but tapering. "This doesn't have to be some huge thing. We can handle this, but talking about it now when we still have six months to go is ridiculous. That's a lot of time."

Jesse's hands clenched and unclenched in his lap. He took a breath before speaking quietly. "Can I go for a walk?"

Whatever smile Claire had on her face had been gone before Jesse spoke, but he had her attention now. With a quick look up to Ben, she pulled in a breath, then gently spoke to Jesse.

"Tell me you're not angry, first?"

What was twisting in his stomach wasn't exactly anger, so he answered honestly. "I'm not."

Ben struggled to school his face into some other expression outside of a scowl, pushing down the paranoia in his chest. The fact that Jesse had asked to go meant he cared about whether or not they would mind; he still wanted to stick around. Wordlessly Ben nodded, but he kept his eyes pointed down, still feeling a twist of angry bitterness about Jesse's last direct words at him.

Without a word, Jesse headed for the door, tugging back the salt tape just enough so he could get by. He didn't take his coat.

It was impossibly dark, the stars casting only a faint light through the clouds, but Jesse knew the dark smudge in the distance was an outcrop of buildings. He only hoped he was close enough.

[Ruth? Are you awake?]

Even from a distance, he could feel the answering pulse of warmth like a heartbeat. In a matter of seconds she was in front of him, her pale blue night dress shifting slightly with the displaced air.

"You're not due for another three days," she said breathlessly. "Something wrong?"

"No." His expression was pinched. "Kind of. I'm sorry. You were sleeping. Just, you're the only one I can really talk to."

"I wasn't sleeping," she reassured him, already pulling him against her in an embrace and burying her face into his neck. [ Felt uneasy all day like something was gonna happen wasn't sure what but I knew something I'm so glad you're here. ]

His arms wrapped around her, tighter than usual, his expression crumpling with relief. [ Glad I'm here, too. ] He held her there a while before finally pulling away. And then it all came tumbling out - the wedding and the baby and the fight. He hardly noticed when they started walking, or when they stopped and sat on the beach, high tide nearly reaching their toes.

"It's just, sometimes we're there, together, and you can just feel it. Like we're one person. And then something like this happens, and the way they look at me, like I'm a...an alien. I feel left out all over again," he said quietly.

Her hand slid into his, lacing their fingers together, small and warm but with a firm grip. Her mind was quiet in comparison to its long, unending ramble, but her emotions continued to flow through him in a steady swell.

"Keep talking," she encouraged gently.

His hand tightened on hers, his eyes closing, letting her warmth spread over him. "Ben keeps talking like things aren't going to change. But I know they are. Even if it was just a human baby, everything would change. All I want is some idea of what we're going to do. Just talk about it, but they won't. It's like we're in a room with the walls slowly closing in, and they're saying, oh, don't worry about that, there is plenty of time." His breath hitched in what might have been a laugh. "I've never planned for anything in my life, but right now, I need something to look to."

Her hand squeezed his lightly and she turned her head to look at him, the moonlight reflected in her eyes. "Are you unhappy?" she asked quietly. "With them. With having a child."

"No." His voice was sharp. "I'm happy with them, I am. I just— is it so wrong not to have feelings for your future kid? It's hardly more than a blob of cells."

Ruth let go of his hand, but rather than pull away, she moved so that she was facing him, her back to the water as it raced up to her sides and licked the bottom of her night dress.

"I wouldn't know," she told him. "I wasn't raised to be human. I don't know how love works. All I've ever known is instinct, and what I was conditioned to feel." Her hands came to rest on his knees. "But if instinct is tied up to real love... maybe you aren't supposed to know it until you meet it."

Jesse's eyes locked on hers, the words sinking into his core like a small spark. Then he was scrambling to his feet, pulling her up as well. "Shit, don't sit in the ocean. It's the middle of the night, you'll get a cold."

The surprise on her face was clear, but the moment they were standing she only smiled at him, wide and full of bright teeth.

"I'll only get cold if I want to be cold, Jess," she told him. The tone of her voice sounded more like she was sharing a secret than explaining something to him. She found his hand and gave it a little pull, putting a faint push in her voice. "You need to relax. Come with me."

He cocked his head to the side but easily relented, following along and not letting go of her hand. In a matter of moments they were waist-deep in the water, which was oddly warm but soothing nonetheless. She stepped closer, embracing him again.

"Close your eyes."

Jesse only hesitated a moment before complying. The air between them grew silent save for the sound of the water, rushing past them and receding, like it had for thousands of years and like it would continue to do long after they were gone.

[ So long as you want it, you can have anything.] Her thoughts were soft, just barely registering above the audible sound of the waves. [ If you want this to be chaos, then it will be chaos. If you want it to be bliss, it will be bliss. All that is solid melts into air. ]

The world seemed to narrow, and Jesse spread to meet it. They swayed slightly with each wave, her words filling in the rhythm. He couldn't help but smile, his eyes still closed. "The world is what you make it?" he said quietly.

"All the more true with us," she replied, her lips brushing against his throat.

The world snapped back into focus, Jesse taking a step back. "Ruth?"

Surprise once again registered in her eyes, but only for a moment before her face evened out again. The steady pulse of her emotions quickened, love and longing the top notes to the beat.

[ Just want you to relax is all to be happy again every time I see you there's sadness and pain and I love you I love you I love you so much anything you need anything you want— ]

She inhaled sharply. "I'm sorry," came the breathless reply. "I... I'm sorry."

He shifted back further, though he settled a hand on her shoulder. His head spun from emotional whiplash and the water was starting to feel cold. Breathing deep, he said, "It...it's alright. I didn't know. Just... I love you, Ruth, but like a sister. Nothing else."

Her round blue eyes widened, then a sinking sensation dropped between them like a stone.

"That's fine," she murmured. "I'm your second. Whatever you need me to be, that's what I'll be."

He smiled, but there was no denying the twist of loss in his stomach. Part of him had known or at least suspected that Ruth's feelings for him were stronger than they should be, but he'd been able to ignore that before. Now he couldn't. He'd lost the only person he could talk to when things got tough, all because he let the situation get to a point where she thought it was alright.

"It's fine. It really is," he lied. "I should let you get to bed, though."

Before he had the chance to move or get away, she grabbed his hands quickly.

"You think so loudly," she told him, the corner of her mouth turning up. "You haven't lost me, Jess. I'm always going to be yours, no matter what."

"Ruth. That's not what I want." He gave her hand a squeeze. "The whole point of this is that all of you will eventually be able to go out and live your own lives. Not stay tied to me. You need to be able to think for yourself."

"I'm not a foot soldier," she said, pulling her hands free. "I'm different."

"I know. And I wouldn't have been able to do anything without you. You're amazing," he said honestly. "But this isn't a war any more. I'm not a general, and I don't need a lieutenant. Eventually, you need to take charge of your life. Make your choices without me."

Her eyes moved rapidly between his, her chest hitching as something dawned on her face. [ No no no no no no no— ]

"This is what I want," she said quickly. "I want to be here. I want to be this. Don't take that away from me. It's all I have."

"Shh, it's okay," he soothed, reaching out to take her wrist. "Nothing's happening right now. We have to teach these kids how to live like humans. But then I'll set the older ones up in the world, and then they'll be on their own. And when the last one is grown up, you'll finally be free. You'll be able to do whatever you want."

"You're not listening to me," she returned, leaning into the touch rather than resisting it and pressing close so they were chest to chest again. "This is what I want. I'm too old, Jess. I was the first of this generation. They made me for you. They made all the others to follow you, but they made me for you."

Jesse's breath hitched, her desperate desire collapsing upon him. He could feel her heart beating in his ears. He quickly stepped back again, feet struggling in the sand.

"Look, we'll talk about this later, alright? There is no rush; we have plenty of time."

"I've always come when you called," she spoke over him, weight and desperation giving power to her words. "I've always done as you asked. Whatever you want or need, I'll be that for you, just— don't take that from me. Not after I've finally found you. Please."

"Okay, okay, you can stay with me!" Jesse said, desperate to have her panic stop swarming him. "Sorry! I didn't think that's what you would want, but sure, whatever you want to do."

The panic ebbed, but it still flitted beneath the surface like a fish swimming against the current. Goosebumps raced up her arms and all over her pale skin, which she hid by tucking her arms against her frame and dropping her gaze from his. He reached towards her but didn't touch.

"C'mon. Let's get you inside. I should probably head back anyway."

She nodded without looking up, taking wide, deliberate steps to get out of the water faster. The moment they were on the shore again, she bunched her night dress up around her, exposing her long and shapely legs. The moment she let the fabric drop again, it was dry. Jesse deliberately looked the other way, not bothering to do anything about the jeans that clung to his legs.

"So. Thanks. For coming out when I called," he said, the words stilted.

[ You're already pulling away after everything we've done after everything I've done and there's nothing I can do to stop it nothing I hate them— ]

Her hands came up and tightened in the hair at either side of her head and she let out a small, helpless sound.

"Ruth, please," he said, touching her arm, but she pulled away from him as though he'd burned her. "Don't. This isn't about them. And I'm not pulling away. I just don't want to hurt you."

The last words barely left his lips before she was gone.

Jesse's stomach clenched hard, Ben's words coming back to him. "Try and use your head before you go spewing shit." First he'd angered Ben and Claire, now he'd upset Ruth. He'd hurt everyone that mattered to him. Despite the cold, he sat hard on the sand, wanting to leave but unable to go home. The only thing he could stand to face right now was the wide, black ocean.

Ben stared at the computer screen in front of him, resting the side of his head in one hand as his eyes scanned the text on the screen. He was about two hours in on researching this "Lady" business, and all that was coming up was a bunch of references to Wicca and the Goddess. It sounded like a bunch of crap.

"This is a bunch of crap," he muttered out loud. "There's nothing older than the 1950s referencing this title, and it looks made up."

"Doesn't it always?" Claire was folding their laundry on the edge of the bed, still warm from the dryer. She was wearing a pair of his sleeper pants because the waist on hers felt too tight.

"No offense," he said gently, looking up. "I love you, and you're my Goddess, but I'm pretty sure you're not—" he brought one hand up to make finger quotes, "—the Goddess. It doesn't make sense. This fairy was obviously just fucking with Jess."

"Like I said, it sounded real to me," came the quiet reply.

Jesse stood in the bathroom doorway, where he hadn't been moments ago. He didn't look like the walk did him any good. In fact, his expression was more drawn. As he stepped into the room, he squelched.

Claire had a response on the tip of her tongue, but Jesse's appearance made it disappear. Instead, she pulled in a breath and put aside the pair of socks in her lap so she could stand. She cradled his cheeks with her hands and quickly kissed him, but squeaked shortly after realizing everywhere her clothing touched him was now damp.

"—the hell? ...why are you wet?" And cold.

He leaned instinctively into the heat of her hands before shrugging. "I wanted to go to the beach, so I went to the beach."

Ben watched from where he was sitting with a small frown, though he didn't say anything in response. If anything, his face felt like it was burning, and he quickly turned his eyes back to the screen once again.

Claire gave Jesse a small thoughtful smile, contemplating what he said before deciding there was no need for anything further. "Well. Here, just—get some warm clothes on." She turned to the folded pile, handing him jeans and socks.

Jesse gave her a small smile of thanks, though it didn't take the strain out of his face. He looked over at Ben, but when the man didn't look back, Jesse turned and shuffled into the bathroom, closing the door. Claire followed the click with a sigh.

"So what were you saying about me being a goddess?" she breathed flatly, coming up behind Ben's chair to wrap her arms around his front. She had her chin on his shoulder and her eyes on the screen, but they didn't stay there long. They closed, and she turned into his neck, much more comfortable.

Some of the tension in his shoulders faded, and after a moment he tipped his head back against her shoulder, though his eyes drifted off in the direction of the closed door.

"If you're looking for praise and worship, I'm your man." Claire smiled against his skin. He needed to shave, but she didn't care.

"I'll keep that in mind." A sigh broke her thoughts apart. "Maybe we should ask around."

"If that's what you want," Ben answered distantly.

The bathroom door clicked as it opened, Jesse's new pants and socks wonderfully warm. He had a bag in hand, too. He paused when he saw Ben and Claire's new configuration before moving forward.

"For you," he said, pulling a packet of Skittles out of the bag and holding it out for Claire. Then he pulled out a little plastic container that perfectly fit the slice of pie within. He set it beside Ben's computer. "And you. It's rhubarb."

Ben gingerly slipped out of the chair, stood, and pulled Jesse forward by the head in order to kiss him. Pulling a sharp breath of surprise, Jesse wrapped his arms around Ben, relief spreading to every limb. Claire eased back against the table, watching with a much easier smile. She also picked up the Skittles. When Ben finally pulled back, he knocked his forehead against Jesse's.

"Jerk."

Jesse closed his eyes, head still leaned against Ben's. "I'm sorry. You're right. I say stupid shit all the time."

"And yet I still love you," Ben replied. "Especially when you bring pie."

His mouth quirked but Jesse pulled back, his hand finding Claire's and giving it a squeeze. "I'm sorry I said what I did. I wasn't really thinking. I know it's my kid, and I promise I'll be there." His smile widened. "It takes a lot to make you angry, so I definitely know it's my fault."

Claire smiled back, rolling a Skittle under her tongue. "S'okay. I'll just throw up on you next time."

He paused. "Is there an option number two?"

"Could throw up on you now?" Claire teased, popping another candy in her mouth and shooting him a wink. He was obviously forgiven.

Ben pulled away from the discussion long enough to get himself a fork from their meager kitchen and bring it back to the table he'd set up on.

"We've already generated a list of potential critters," he said conversationally. "It's written on the notepad if you wanna look it over."

Jesse's smile faded, his eyes flicking between them. "Can we talk first? I've got a few things that I need to say."

Claire leaned against the table, watching Jesse thoughtfully. Already Ben could feel apprehension twist in his stomach, but he fought it down with a bite of the pie.

"Fine by me."

Fidgeting, Jesse went over to sit by the bed. His eyes kept going between them and the floor. "This wouldn't change things between us, or how we work. But, considering the demons, and what Jack said, so it's safer for Claire, and for the kid... I think if people ask, we should say the kid is Ben's."

The mouthful of pie in Ben's mouth went from delicious to sawdust in less than a second. He swallowed hard, but the clogged-up sensation in his chest didn't fade.

"What's it gonna matter if everything chasing us will already know it isn't?" he asked.

"There might be more," Jesse said quietly. "We didn't know about Jack before. There could be more things. Or people."

"People?" Claire asked softly, the confusion evident in her eyes.

Jesse's eyes went to the floor. "Hunters found me before. I don't want to assume we're safe."

Claire pulled a breath in slowly, her eyes sliding to Ben as she settled on the edge of the bed next to Jesse. She put her hand on his back, drifting aimlessly.

"You were a kid when they found you," Ben argued. "It's not the same now."

His eyes met Ben's. "The police caught up with me once. Hunters might stumble on the trail sometime. And if they found me, and thought...anything about Claire... It might be paranoia. And we'll do what you two think is right. I just couldn't not mention it."

Wrapping her arms around him from behind, Claire nuzzled in close and rested her chin on Jesse's shoulder. "I understand what you mean." She gave him a squeeze, and looked at Ben. "We'll go by our gut—?"

Ben nodded silently, his lips pressed into a thin line; clear evidence that he wasn't happy about the decision. Jesse didn't look entirely happy with it either, but he nodded as well. Then he took a deep breath.

"I also need to tell you something about Ruth."

Though she didn't move from her position, Claire suddenly felt very tense. Uncomfortably tense, enough to seek outlet by rolling her fingers under to pop the stiffness in her knuckles. She'd never had a particular fondness for Ruth, but something about this mention of her; this time... She chalked it up to the hormones. "What about her?"

"I've always kind of known she fancied me," he said, the words coming out quick. "It's not really her fault, the way she was trained, and I'd thought it was okay, since it was in the background. But she acted on it this time. I set her straight and she won't do it again, but I wanted to be honest."

Ben remembered the moment where Ruth had come to him, to help him reclaim both Jesse and Claire from Belial's grasp. He remembered her declaration as clearly as when he himself had told Jesse how he felt. To hear that the Nephilim girl had feelings for Jesse really wasn't that surprising, though it did set a frown into Ben's brow. After months of visits, why had she decided to act on her feelings now? More importantly, why had Jesse not addressed them sooner?

"What do you mean 'acted on it'?"

Jesse shrugged. "It wasn't huge. Her lips brushed my neck. But yeah, that crossed the friend line."

Claire's jaw tensed. She cracked the knuckles on her other hand, but stayed quiet. Ben rubbed the back of his neck in thought, the frown deepening. He didn't like the way all of this settled in his stomach.

"Not sure I like the idea of you being alone with her."

"Me either," Claire uttered quiet near Jesse's throat. The tension hadn't faded - not at all - and it was getting hard to ignore. "And it has nothing to do with you. I trust you."

Jesse frowned slightly. "She won't do anything to me. She was basically programed to follow my every order. It'll be fine."

"Except for the whole part about how you're trying to teach them to think for themselves?" Ben pointed out.

"Rule number one was don't hurt people or make them do things." There was a little heat behind his words. "That's been pushed into their heads, Ruth most of all. Besides, even if she did try something, I'm stronger."

"We know," Claire injected quietly, easing away from him, but still close enough to touch. "It's just not—" Her freckles scrunched on her nose as she tried to fight the way she wanted to crawl out of her skin and figure out the right word. The effort caused her to clear her throat.

"Ideal." She looked at Ben. "—just being honest."

"Everyone makes mistakes," Ben pointed out, the words sounding more like a warning than a statement of fact.

Jesse took a breath before answering, so his words were measured. "And which one of us are you worried will make a mistake?"

For all that he knew that Jesse was making an effort not to upset him, Ben couldn't stop the way his insides twisted up, ready to fight. "Like I said," he repeated. "Everyone makes mistakes. Things aren't exactly going easy for any of us right now."

"What he means," Claire started, closing her eyes and pulling in a breath. "—is it's just another thing to worry about. It's a strange thing for Ben and I to deal with - you and Ruth."

Rubbing his legs, Jesse's expression was tight. "As far as I'm concerned, she's my sister. And we had a pretty fucked up father, so she needs my help. It is what it is."

Ben shrugged his shoulders dismissively, closing the lid to the pie container and standing to put it in the mini-fridge.

"Anything else we should know?"

"Not really." Jesse's voice went quiet again. "I just... I know you think seven months is a long time, but I'd feel better if we had some idea what we'd do when the baby is born."

Claire let a breath out slowly, standing from the bed to wander aimlessly around the room. Her legs felt tight; so did her shoulders, and her arms, and back... The change of subject would do her good.

"From what I've read, I should stop traveling at the eight month mark," she said quietly, stretching her arms high, then back behind her as she paced. "We'll have to find a safe-house by then."

Ben chewed his lower lip, half-tempted to offer to call his father, but unsure if that was the wisest decision. If Sam and Dean knew what the baby was capable of, they might be less inclined to help them.

Jesse nodded, perking up slightly. Talking about this was exactly what he wanted. "It should be somewhat isolated, but not so much that we can't get everything we need."

Turning to face them, Claire's eyes switched between both. She let her arms fall to her sides, a little less uncomfortable. A tentative half-smile on her face. "July 12." Her smile twitched, and her eyes slid toward the floor. "I did the math."

Ben offered her a faint smile he didn't quite feel, even though she wasn't looking at them. After a moment he moved to where she stood, stepping behind her and sliding his arms around her waist.

"Maybe Harry knows a midwife we can speak to."

Jesse hesitated where he sat and ended up staying put. Ben and Claire looked very nice there, together. "Do we... I mean, I don't know what my birth was like, if anything...strange happened."

Ben blinked in thought, pressed a distracted kiss to Claire's temple, then pulled away again.

"Times like this I wish I'd actually kept the book series with me..."

Claire, who looked pretty distracted herself, sank down into the nearby chair. She laced her fingers in her lap, watching them grip into the skin of her hands.

"I—I think I might know something."

Jesse stared at her. "What? How?"

She looked up at him, the lines of her throat tensed in a swallow before her gaze dropped again. Ben looked up from his search for his notebook, the task temporarily forgotten.

"The hell-bitch. I remember... things."

Ben's brows rose, his expression becoming concerned. "Yeah?" he encouraged gently.

"I don't know, it's... kinda out of context. But I think—I think your mom - your birth mom - forced the demon out. Not in any pleasant way, either," she said, looking at Jesse.

Jesse's expression pinched in discomfort. "She was possessed when I met her. But I guess it wouldn't make sense for the demon to have stuck around with her all those years."

"It was in one of the books," Ben muttered mostly to himself. He dug his hands back into his duffel, finally pulling out his well-worn notebook and flipping through it. About halfway through, he paused and read quickly to himself.

"I'd forgotten about it. I remembered making a note because I thought road salt wasn't actually pure salt. It is, though. Learned that later." He brought the notebook over to Jesse and held it out for him. "Here."

Taking a sharp breath, Jesse looked at him, then the notebook, before taking it gingerly. There wasn't much written, which helped his stomach unclench. She'd been possessed the whole pregnancy, which he knew from Claire. He frowned, looking up at Ben.

"'My Son the Cambion'?"

"It's an out-of-print article," Ben clarified. "I haven't been able to find it online except in excerpts."

"Why didn't you ever mention?" Jesse tried to make it not sound like an accusation as he passed the notebook back. Ben's face flushed and he scowled as he took it, putting it back in his bag and keeping his eyes pointed downward.

"It was one of the first ones I'd read. I sorta forgot most of it."

Jesse swallowed down anything else he might say. It didn't matter now. "Not much about the baby. She lived, at least. It must've been bad, but that's probably got more to do with the demon than with me."

"Probably," Claire injected quietly. I hope so was what she really wanted to say.

Jesse looked up at her. He slid from the bed to sit at her feet, hands resting on her thighs. "We can do this any way you want. Midwife, hospital, whatever. If something weird happens, I'll just make everyone forget. They'll think it was a normal delivery."

"She still has time to decide on that," Ben reminded him. He was just glad that all the talk about the baby being a 'thing' worth being afraid of was done.

Claire smiled down at Jesse, resting a hand over his on one leg before glancing to Ben in the same light. "I'll talk to Kat. We'll go from there."

"So can we talk about the case now?" Ben pressed, trying not to sound exasperated and failing.

Jesse closed his eyes, resting his head on Claire's legs. She gently ran her fingers through his hair. "Fine. Talk about the case."

"Like I said. There's a few options as to what it might be. Clues are hinting at either a witch, a kumiho, a skinwalker, or a werewolf."

"Probably need to see the scene, to get a better idea," Jesse said, though he didn't move.

Claire nodded, her eyes sliding up to Ben, still combing. It was as soothing for her as it was intended for him. "Check the moon phase."

Ben shook his head. "It's not gonna make that much of a difference. I already texted Dean about it, and he said that ever since the whole thing with the Mother of All Monsters, there've been reports of werewolves changing outside of the phases. It's more likely they'll change then, but there's mood and sense triggers now."

Claire paused, mildly disturbed by this; what did that mean for other monsters? She sighed lightly. "So, back to working the scene then."

Jesse let out a long sigh. He pushed to his feet. "I'll pack."

Standing on a loan stretch of gravel road, surrounded by frost-tipped plants and the skeletons of ash and maple trees, Claire pushed her hands in the pockets of her parka, breathing a slow trail of steam out from her hood. It was eerie - not just the quiet, but how similar this road was to those webbing around Pontiac. She'd been a girl scout on roads like this. Had church picnics in fields like the one half a mile down this road.

The police tape was gone, but it hadn't been hard to find the spot. Back-woods cops didn't care how bad their cruiser tires messed up the area, and there were bald spots of forest floor where there'd obviously been blankets of leaves scooped up for blood evidence. Large ones.

"This was no ritual," she said quietly, sniffing against the chill. "What a mess."

On automatic, Jesse slung an arm around her shoulder, rubbing it for warmth. "It was the hearts missing, right? Probably not a kumiho, then."

"Depends on the legend," Ben pointed out. "We wouldn't know unless we found her changing somewhere, mid-prey."

"Didn't see any graveyards on the maps, but that doesn't mean much." Appreciative, Claire leaned a little into Jesse's shoulder, but turned toward the bend in the road. "Lots of old family farmsteads, there's old cemeteries all over the place. You hear that?"

Scowling slightly, Jesse looked back. "Just a car."

It was still a good distance away, but the sound of tires on gravel in the empty forest was loud and echoing. Ben frowned.

"How much y'wanna bet whoever's driving up would know?"

"S'worth a shot," Claire said, backing up to lean her ass against the GTO's door. Jesse joined her, happy to let Ben take the reins. A Chevrolet truck rounded the corner at a slow pace, and Ben immediately stuck his arms out and waved them. It came to a stop just to the left of him, and the driver worked down the window.

"Somethin' the matter?" he asked, his accent clearly placing him as a non-native of the area. The passenger in the cab, a short redheaded woman close to the driver's age, tilted her head at a deep angle, peering out at the strangers with an air of mild friendly curiosity.

Claire smiled at the driver, though she was immediately uncertain. That wasn't exactly an Iowa twang. "Just a little lost. You know this area?"

"Well enough," the man answered with the same polite smile. "If you're lookin' to get back to the main road, if y'go three miles up, there's a turn off—"

"We were actually looking for the cemetery," Jesse said, his smile sheepish. "We're doing some research on the history of the area and got turned around."

"The cemetery?" came a quirked response from the redhead, who looked at the man next to her, puzzled. She also had an accent, lilting and sing-songy. Obviously Irish. "Might'cha mean the Presbyterian church yard in town? Yer way off, luvs."

Jesse frowned in puzzlement. "You sure there isn't one closer? Do you know the area well?"

The man nodded. "It's been..." he looked sideways at the passenger. "Six years, thereabouts? Honeymooned here and decided t'stay."

Claire leaned forward a little, dipping at the waist to look at the man and woman more directly. "We're lookin' for any that might not be on the map. Old farmstead things and the like?" The redhead tipped a bit closer to the truck's dash to see the other woman better. Her nostrils flared, but there was no change in her expression - it was still friendly.

"Ah! Come ta t'ink of it, I seen some stones off our 'property line." She looked at her husband, pressing her lips and raising her brows.

"Hey, that sounds just what we're looking for. Mind if we see?" Jesse asked.

"If it's not too much trouble," Ben added, smiling some. The driver made a dismissive gesture.

"Yeah, sure. No problem. We're just up the road a bit, g'head 'n follow behind."

Claire nodded, smiling and patting their door in thanks before stepping back so they could lead the way. Ben moved around to the driver's side, tugging the keys out of his pocket.

"All of Iowa, and we get a couple of British people."

"And they're probably wondering why an Aussie is interested in Iowa history," Jesse said with a grin before he crawled into the backseat. The engine roared to life again, and in no time they were following the pick-up in front of them down a side road, the sound of tires against gravel loud in the silence.

"Is it just me, or do they feel off?" Claire mentioned, tearing her eyes from the road to look across at Ben, then back at Jesse.

Jesse looked between them, giving a shrug. "Seemed alright to me?"

Ben rolled his lips quietly, frowning as he drove. There had been a strange, unspoken tension between the couple when they'd shared glances. It was as if they knew something.

"Might be, now that you mention it."

Claire sighed lightly, watching the brake lights in front of them. She nudged Ben's elbow with her hand, which then held out in a fist, the unspoken signal for another round of Rock Paper Scissors.

"Is this for checking things out or for keeping on them?" he asked, one brow arched as he smirked.

"Winner's choice."

"Yeah, I've heard that before," he grumbled good-naturedly, then counted out three shakes and threw scissors. Claire threw paper, smirking at herself.

"They'd probably be better if you two played couple to their couple," he said with a nod. "I'll stick behind."

Jesse frowned slightly. "Just be careful. We can afford to be cautious on this one."

"I'm always careful," Ben quipped, turning the wheel with the curve of the road.

"Can't thank you enough for this," Jesse said, taking a last photo of the wore down headstones before pocketing his phone. "It's going to be great getting the area all mapped out."

"Ah, s'no trouble," Gail, the redhead, answered, twisting a piece of winter wheat between her bare fingertips. She looked across the scattered stones toward the two strangers, tracking the blond woman especially.

Claire tucked a gloved hand under her hair in her hood, scratching at the back of her neck. The winter air was drying her skin, and hotel soup didn't help either. Though, she couldn't remember being so sensitive to it before. Maybe it was that making her impatient to get inside somewhere, or the fact that they've scoured this poor excuse for a cemetery and there were no signs of the kumiho. And that was narrowing down their list to something a lot more unpleasant.

"I think we got everything we need." She said it more to Jesse than anyone, but she didn't mind if the two Brits heard.

He nodded but glanced at the couple. "Must be nice, living way out here. But I was a bit concerned coming out when we heard about that attack that happened."

The man, Jay, gave him a thin-lipped smile, his eyes sad. "It was a horrible thing," he agreed. "Been a long time since there's been an animal attack out here."

The four of them began their slow trek back up the property line, Jay's hand sliding into his wife's midway up the hill and lacing their fingers together.

"So it was an animal attack?" Claire asked quietly with a quirked brow, making herself try to seem relieved. "We heard the police were involved. Isn't there a kid missing?"

Jay gave a nod. "They're still out there searchin' for him." Gail's lips thinned as she gave a quiet nod as well. Between them, her hand squeezed his.

Claire shook her head with a wince. "Man, I didn't think anything in Iowa could take off with a grown man."

"They dunno if he was with 'em or not, from what I know," Jay said. "Kids are crazy to each other; it's possible they were pullin' some prank or something and left him out there to get lost."

"Not the end you'd usually expect," Jesse said with a grimace. "So you've never had a problem out here? Never seen something... I dunno, out of the ordinary?"

"'sides th'cassional redneck, nah." Gail shook her head with an apologetic kind of half-smile. They reached the old brick farmhouse the couple owned; the woman paused half-way up the steps to face their impromptu guests. "Would'ja be wantin' somethin' ta drink? Have a pint'er some tea?"

The phone in Jesse's pocket gave a little beep. There's a cellar. It's got a lock on it. He scowled, texting back, need time?

A second passed before his phone beeped again: Ten minutes would be good.

"Uh, wait," Jesse said, stopping short. "Do you... do you know anything about this oak?" He studied the large tree thoughtfully. "It looks like it's been here awhile."

Claire looked at at Jesse like he'd just sputtered on in Japanese, but it faded quickly when she saw their two hosts were giving him the same expression. Okay - so there was a reason for it, even if she didn't know what it was. She'd keep it going, and pointed at the lowest branch, recalling something from her Girl Scout days.

"Yeah, see the way that branch is twisted?" It wasn't twisted. "The local tribes used to anchor trees as saplings like this to point to bodies of water."

Jay blinked at them, his face pulled in a frown. "I'd have to check a map, but the real estate agent didn't say anything particular about it. It's just another tree."

Back at the house, Ben pocketed his phone again and worked his pick through the padlock quickly and efficiently. It clicked open within minutes, and once he had his flashlight flipped on, he descended the stone steps leading downward.

It was uncomfortably cold, even moreso than outside, but it wasn't anything uncommon for an old wine cellar. What was uncommon was when his flashlight beam came across what looked like a small jail cell or a cage, with long chains anchored against the wall. His brows arched.

"Kinky," he muttered aloud, taking a few steps closer to investigate. The lock on the door had been busted, and not too far away there was an arc welder and a toolbox. Outside of the strangeness of having a jail cell in the cellar, nothing else appeared to be out of order. Ben rapidly ascended the stairs, sending an all-clear text the moment the door was shut behind him and the lock back in place.

"Do you know how long—?" A beep from his phone cut Jesse off. "Ah, shit. Sorry, y'know, we're running late. Maybe some other time?"

By now, Claire had caught on to what was happening, and was thoroughly relieved that the change in subject had been breached. There was only so much she could do to make the local Black Hawk traditions interesting to a pair of immigrants who looked confused, annoyed, and cold. She gave them a smile, pushing her hands in her coat pockets. "Thanks for the offer, though. We really appreciate the look-around."

"Sure, sure, no problem," Jay replied, giving the two of them a bemused smile. "The least we can offer you is something warm t'drink before you head back. It's a long drive back into town."

"No, it's fine," Jesse said, flashing him a grin. "Still got a full thermos of coffee. Raincheck, maybe, though. Check out the trees around the property."

Gail gave both of them a friendly, but clear 'weirdo' look before letting it go. She wrapped an arm around Jay's back and flicked a small wave goodbye as the two others headed around to their car, where Ben was already waiting for them.

Jesse leaned in close to Claire as they walked. "You know how sexy it is when you save my ass?" A puff of steam clouded by Claire's rosy nose in result. She turned a lopsided half-smile up at him.

"I wouldn't call that 'saving your ass' more than covering for it. But I'll keep that in mind."

Jesse's grin widened before he turned to Ben. "So what'd you find?"

"Tell you about it in the car," Ben said, his voice pitched low. "Let's get outta here."

*

Though the heater had been working and on full blast for at least five minutes, Claire still felt cold. There was a definite sinking feeling in her stomach, after hearing what Ben found in the couple's basement. Truth be told, she wasn't entirely sure it had everything to do with the case they were working, either.

She stared out the windshield, still attentive to the conversation, but unaware that her hands were holding onto her gloves a lot harder than necessary. Ben found her hand and gently loosened her grip, casting a sideways look of concern in her direction.

"I didn't see any blood, if that helps at all," he said. "So whatever they're using it for, it's not to butcher."

"That's comforting." It really wasn't, though she knew it should have been.

Jesse leaned forward, his elbows resting on the bench seat. "Could just be a fetish. You'd be surprised how many people have sex dungeons in their basements."

Claire actually snorted. "No I wouldn't." Though she was actually starting to feel a little better.

"We'll do some info mining when we get back to the hotel," Ben added. "And we'll hit up the morgue."

Another day, another body. At least that's what it felt like walking into the morgue. Jesse was a little disturbed that he was starting to get used to it all.

Though that didn't stop his stomach from spinning when the examiner pulled back the bag to reveal a pulpy hole where presumably a heart should be.

"Shit. That's gotta be one messy cult," he said.

"That was my point," the mortician added, gesturing with one hand. "I mean, I've seen the typicals with that kind of crap. Usually there's carvings and symbology and whatever else, but this guy? They just pried him open and yanked it out. Same with body two."

He moved to pull open the second drawer. Claire kept one latex-covered hand under her nose while the other gently peeled away a piece of dead skin hanging over the kid's rib cage.

Even for someone who had the gumption to break into someone's chest to take their heart, they needed a tool. Whatever did this didn't use an ax or a machete. It was something blunt, like a sledge hammer... or so she was sure the coroner's report would say. She knew different.

"No word on the one that's missing?"

The mortician shook his head. "None so far." He paused, scratching idly at his chest. "Did you need any help going through findings on the report, or should I let you be for a bit?"

"Think we've got it, but we'll give you a shout if we have any questions, thanks," Jesse said, flashing a quick smile.

The mortician nodded, smiling politely in response as he turned and headed back to the front office to finish what he'd been working on when they'd arrived.

Once he was gone, Claire put her hands back to her sides and took a half-step back from the slide-out table. She took a long, slow breath, knowing the knot in her stomach wasn't just the normal queasiness.

"You know what it is, right?"

Jesse looked at her, his eyes a little round. "Well, not a witch. Probably not a skinwalker either. It's too... animal-like."

Claire nodded, meeting his eyes, though she was clearly unhappy about saying it.

"Werewolf, actually."

"I'm guessing they're like vampires and not as cuddly as their movie counterparts?"

"Cuddly counterparts?" She snorted and smirked while covering the young man with his sheet and putting him back in the drawer. "Which cuddly counterparts are we talking about? The full fledged over-sized wolf that tears people apart or the half-man half-beast that tears people apart?"

"Point," he said with a small smile. "Although some of them just like to walk around shirtless and glare at people."

"So do you."

Jesse glared at her, though a smile tugged at the corners of his pout. "So, werewolf. Random attack you think?"

The way her eyes fell with her expression showed Claire really wasn't convinced either way. She shook her head and started peeling off the blood-smeared gloves. "Could be. I've only seen one, but Kat says they're usually drifters - easier that way. He could just be passing through."

Scowling, Jesse nodded. "Or could be simpler than that. Two kids dead, one kid missing. Maybe he got sick of lying low."

"That could be, too." She tossed the gloves and started for the thick glass door that separated the morgue from the morgue's office. The click of her high heels paused as she half-turned, waiting for him. "It might be good to start with him."

Jesse followed on her heels. "Good thing Ben's already on it."

Ben clicked away at the screen, tracing through the backgrounds on the couple who lived near the forest. Their full names were Janus and Gail Thorne; Gail's maiden name was Lane. They had purchased the house in June of 2019. Janus owned a bar in town, and Gail worked at a tattoo parlor. They had green cards, paid their taxes, et cetera. Nothing pointed to anything out of the ordinary, but Gail did have an arrest record: Two accounts of drunk and disorderly, one warning on aggravated assault. She apparently had a temper, which seemed strange to Ben; she appeared to be the more soft spoken one.

"Always was the quiet ones," he muttered aloud. There didn't appear to be any counts of missing persons in direct relation to their move to the area, nor had there been any reports of persons with their hearts ripped out of their chests. Maybe it was just a drifter wolf. He ran the filter for nearby towns, but just as the window popped up with the results, his phone rang.

I guess I'll keep on ramblin', I'm gonna / Sing my song / Sh-yeah-yeah-yeah-yeah, I've gotta—

"You ever hunted a kumiho before?" he asked, skipping over any amount of greeting.

"Can't say that I have. Never even heard of one this side of the Pacific," Dean said, an unusual bemused tint to his voice. Ben frowned, getting up from the chair and walking aimlessly around the little hotel room.

"They're immigrants," he said by way of clarification. "Granted, neither of them is Asian, but I wanted to be sure I was coverin' all the bases."

There was the sound of a body settling heavily in a chair. "I take it folks are missin' organs where you are?"

Ben nodded even though he knew the older man couldn't see him. "Yeah. Just hearts, though. There was some conflict in the lore, hearts in some and livers in others. Wasn't sure if it was a werewolf or not, but I'm checkin' the surrounds right now for any trail."

There was a long pause. "Kumiho ain't your first suspect, right?"

"They had a cage in their cellar," Ben pointed out. "Chains on the wall, too. It was dark, but they couldda been silver. I didn't have time enough to check."

From the pause, Ben was sure Dean had ran a hand over his face. He could almost see it, as if the man was sitting in front of him. "Looks like someone got on the wrong side of a werewolf and thinks they got it under control now." Another pause. "You need someone to come out there and take care of it?"

"Nah, we've got it," Ben said slowly, his brows pinching. "I know it's been a coupla months, but we're still solid. Thanks for the offer, though."

"You done a were before, kid?"

Ben stared down at the carpet, feeling some of the heat drain out of his limbs. Memories of being half-mauled and Izzy coming to his rescue flashed through his mind. He'd been young and stupid, she'd saved his life, but he'd finished the hunt and shot the killing shot. He swallowed and took a breath, then let it out.

"Yeah. Got the sumbitch though, so there's nothin' to worry about."

"I got no doubt you can handle it. Just watch yourself. It's easy to get soft around weres."

"I'm not Sam," Ben said, putting strength he didn't feel behind the words. "I'll get it done."

There was a breath that might have been a laugh. "Kid, you really don't know your uncle that well."

"I know he loved that one in California," Ben countered. "Which is kinda ridiculous, given he knew her all of thirty-six hours, but whatever. And I know he tried to suggest they find another way to save her, but she refused. Maybe I don't know the rest of it, but I know you've compared me to him in your head before."

It was a long time before Dean spoke again, and when he did, the humor was gone from his voice. "My mistake. Guess you know everything."

Ben winced hard, feeling a twist in his chest.

"I didn't—" he tried to argue, but the line went dead. Ben let out an angry sigh, running a hand over his face and glaring down at the phone.

"Dammit, Dean," he grumbled, halfway through clicking open the phone log to redial the number.

Claire swiped the keycard and pushed their room door open with the same hand, the other occupied with the green tea smoothie that she absolutely could not pass up when the only Starbucks in town caught her attention. It satisfied a superficial, but very insistent need that, according to her, nothing else would. The mood at hand, however, was still a little grim.

"What'd you find?" Ben asked, pushing the anger and frustration down as deep as it would go. Meeting his eyes, Claire took her lips away from the smoothie straw, but just rolled them and shook her head.

"It's not human. Well, humanoid," Jesse amended, happy to stroll in and plop down on the bed. "These guys were definitely torn into. And no word on the third yet."

Ben stuck the phone back into his pocket, then ran a hand through his hair. "Dean didn't really have anything helpful to add."

"And the British couple?" Claire added, setting the drink down to peel off her blazer jacket.

"The woman's got a little bit of a record for violent behavior," Ben pointed out. "The guy's got nothin'. He works at a bar downtown and she's a tattoo artist."

"Any similar activity when they moved here? Missing people?" Jesse asked, leaning back. Again, Ben shook his head.

"Nothing in the papers. I was just about to check the surrounds on the filter when grumpy called."

Claire kicked off her only pair of heels, one by one. They could probably use replacing at this point, or maybe she was just noticing how uncomfortable they've become in the last few months. "I don't know," she sighed, finally plopping on the edge of the bed to work off the thigh-high hose. "Whether it's one of them or not, I'd still bet money it's a were."

"You'd know better than I would." Jesse shrugged, though his gaze was pretty intent on what Claire was doing. He addressed the next question to Ben: "Why was he grumpy?"

"It's his default," Ben said sourly, settling in the chair and bringing up the screen again.

"We're low on silver rounds." She said it matter-of-factly, stooped low over now bare feet, though she sent Ben a searching glance before taking her hair down from its clip. "Sounds more than just a 'default setting'," she prodded lightly.

"It's nothing," Ben rebutted, not looking up from the screen. He let out a breath, then shook his head.

"There was a 'bear' attack six years ago, two towns over."

"Was it hunting hearts, too?" Jesse said, cocking his head.

"There aren't bears in Iowa," Ben said, looking up. "Y'might see one every two or three years, maybe, but they'd be closer to the Minnesota border. Not out in the middle like this."

"Can you hack the medical records? See if the vic was shredded or not." Claire stood up from the bed and peeled down her skirt, to be replaced shortly with her favorite pair of jeans - which miraculously still fit. Ben looked up, not having heard the first part of the question, and had taken a breath to ask her to repeat herself, but immediately shut down in the brief moment of seeing skin.

"Yeah," he answered finally. "Sure. Just...gimme a sec."

Jesse's smile quirked, looking between them. With a sigh, he loosened his tie. "I'm betting on the third boy, personally."

That had Ben's eyes up again. "What?"

Jesse frowned slightly. "If it's a werewolf. There was a third boy with them and they can't find any trace of him. I'm guessing he wolfed out and went berserk on his friends."

Claire paused to send Jesse a side-glance, her jeans only a little past her knees.

"Definitely makes sense." She looked at Ben and straightened up, dressing, though she purposefully left the zipper open - no sense of being uncomfortable yet. "You check up on the kid? Any rap sheets?"

"Hadn't thought to look. I was too preoccupied with the couple with the freaky sex dungeon." Ben looked over at Jesse, then offered him a small smile. "Good job, man." He brought up a second window to run the kid's name through search filters, then started the tricky work of hacking through the hospital records in the nearby town.

A blush quickly spread across Jesse's face and he ducked his head. He'd only thought he voiced what everyone was thinking, so the praise was unexpected. And felt wonderful. "Thanks."

"We can probably hit up the nearest vet, pick up some silver nitrate," Ben said as he filtered through the firewalls. "It'll be cheaper than rounds, and should do the same trick."

"Uh... I dunno if I want to be close enough to a werewolf to be able to stick it with a needle," Jesse pointed out.

"Won't need to. We can fill up tranqs and shoot 'em from a distance, same as bullets." He grinned. "'Cept they're lighter. It's a trick I picked up from an old chem lab back in school."

Claire pulled down the thin thermal shirt she had replaced the nice blouse with, clearing her throat to suppress a small, involuntary shudder.

"I don't even want to imagine what that would feel like."

Jesse raised an eyebrow. "The tranq or the getting your heart torn out?"

She sent him a look that clearly said 'either'. Then shook her head, and leaned down to put on her socks. "Weres don't usually know what they are. It's not... it's not an easy hunt."

"On the bright side, it won't kill anybody who's not a werewolf," Ben said.

"And we'll still only shoot if we have to. Not like it's a change in protocol." Shrugging off his jacket, Jesse looked between them. "So what's the next step?"

Ben pulled into the parking spot in front of the house, turning off the engine and pocketing the keys before he ran a hand over his slicked-back hair. He cast Claire a faint half-smile before getting out and coming around to her side. It had been a while since it was the two of them running an inquiry; most days she ran with Jesse. It made sense, given the fact that they had made a pact about either one of them being with her at all times, and Jesse really was the best choice for defending her. He also needed the work experience, and hated researching, but they had done all the researching they could do for the case. Now it was just about being sure before they proceeded, so they'd had to split up again in order to track everyone involved, and that left Jesse on couple-stalking duty.

"Ready?" Ben asked.

"I just hope they're not cooking Italian food," she breathed on her way out of the car. Garlic, for some reason - she'd been super sensitive to it lately.

A middle-aged woman answered the door in an Ohio State sweatshirt, her graying blond hair back in an alligator clip. Strain was clear under her eyes. "Can I help you?"

Ben gave her a polite but empathetic smile as he pulled out his wallet and opened up the pocket with his ID. "G'afternoon, Mrs. Jennings. Have you got a minute?"

The woman's eyes rested on his ID before moving to his face. "What's the FBI want from me?"

"We've been called in to aid the investigation as to the whereabouts of your son, ma'am." Claire's smile matched Ben's. "I know this is a difficult time, we'd just like to make sure we've covered every possible angle, and we find it best suited to hear the information first hand. Would it be alright to ask you a few questions?" She closed her own false badge and ID to push into her coat pocket.

"My son wouldn't've done that to those boys," she said, her voice hardening. "He wasn't perfect, but he weren't no monster either."

Ben nodded. "We were hopin' you'd set us straight," he said.

"With the circumstances by which he disappeared, our first intention is to make sure he's safe, Mrs. Jennings," Claire added. "That's all."

The woman pursed her lips but her shoulders sagged and she pulled back to let them in. The house was simple and worn. The living room was a faded peach and the sofa she gestured them towards had stuffing coming out the corners. Mrs. Jennings settled herself on an enormous recliner. "Alright. What would you like to know?"

"Did your son have any enemies, ma'am?" Ben asked, going with the signature opener as he pulled out his pocket notepad. "Someone who might have had a reason to hurt him or his friends?"

She shook her head. "Nothin' like this, no. He got into scuffles occasionally, but it was just the kind of thing boys do. Wouldn't say he had enemies."

"How about any new friends? Anyone not from around here that he may've suddenly come into contact with that caught your eye?" Claire did not have a notepad, but kept a very attentive eye on the woman.

Her hands clenched in her lap. "No. I mean, he did have a run-in with someone who had a bit of a stick up their ass, y'know. Got him banned from a bar over some misunderstanding."

Ben had to be careful not to let the curiosity show too obviously on his face. "Which bar?" he prompted, writing down some unimportant scribbles meant to look like notes.

"Think it was the one north of town. Jerry's or Jimmy's, something like that," she said, her lips pressing tighter. "He never meant anyone no harm."

Claire considered for a moment. "Is it Jay's? Did he tell you what happened? Or were the police involved at all?"

Mrs. Jennings shook her head. "Not so far as I know. Mason's grown, though, so they wouldn't have to bring him by me any more. And he was pretty close-lipped about it; I just knew he was mad he couldn't go back."

So there was the connection. Ben rolled his lips, trying to think what else to ask. "And he's made no attempt to communicate with you since he went missing?"

The woman's bottom lip gave a quiver but she took a breath, her knuckles white in her lap. "No. Not a word."

Ben smiled again, then stood and reached out to offer the woman his hand. "Thank you very much, ma'am. If anyone else gets in contact you, including your son, please be sure and call us straight away."

Once they were back outside, Ben shook his head and gave a bitter laugh. "Seriously, when are we gonna get away from bars with shady history? I don't like this trend at all."

"Would a trend in shady shopping malls be any better?" Claire chuckled faintly, prying the car door open before slipping inside. Ben slid into the driver's seat, though he didn't turn the key in the ignition right away. He scrubbed a hand over his face, sighed, then knocked his forehead against the wheel.

"Hate weres," he breathed out. "And if this is a pack..."

"We don't know that yet," she tried to assure him, but wasn't so confident in her own words. Even so, she squeezed Ben's thigh. "One step at a time."

Ben nodded, moving his hand to rest over his and squeeze it, his eyes dropping down to look at her ring. For the briefest moment, he felt like everything would be okay. She had his back. They had his back. He didn't have to do this alone. Giving her hand one last squeeze, he pulled his hand free and twisted the key, the GTO rumbling to life like a sleepy lion.

An entire night of trailing the foreign couple produced nothing out of the ordinary. Jay tended his tavern where nothing extravagant happened besides a horribly one-sided college football game on the TV, while his wife went grocery shopping after hitting up the little town library, then fell asleep across the couch watching one of the Police Academy movies.

The only news came when they woke next morning to a newspaper on the hotel room mat.

"Bad news," Claire said grimly into a sip of coffee (decaf, of course), and dropped the front page down on the table, half-obscuring breakfast.

"Must be Tuesday," Jesse grumbled, rolling over in bed and looking up at her. Ben came over to look, toothbrush still hanging out of his mouth.

'Hunter found mutilated, second bear attack this month' The headline was loud and clear in bold print across the front page, right above a grainy picture of police and paramedics wheeling away a body under a sheet.

"Not them."

Ben scowled around the red handle, going to the bathroom to spit. His voice echoed as he moved from one room to the other. "That doesn't make any sense. Maybe— they only just found him, right? Maybe we missed something."

"I told you it's the kid." Jesse stayed in bed, but his expression was serious. "He's got to be hiding out in the woods or something. We'll need to do some tracking."

Claire set her mug down, then settled tensely in the chair by the table. She nodded through a sigh.

"It's gonna be a mess up there, but we gotta move quick." The trail would go cold fast, and as quick as the victims were dropping, there was bound to be one to survive sooner or later. That's how packs started.

"Who's goin' with who, then?" Ben asked. "I just... I don't know. I don't feel right takin' our eyes off them."

Jesse was about to suggest Claire stick with the couple, but leaving her alone — even when he was fairly certain the couple wasn't involved — left a bad taste in his mouth. "You and Claire stick with them; I'll go after the kid. That way I can escape and find you, if things get hairy." He quirked a smile.

Claire considered for a moment, then mirrored the smile.

"Do a lot of animal tracking in Australia?" she teased lightly, but her tone was clear - she was good with that plan. Ben snickered, then hid it in a cough and rested his hand on Claire's shoulder, giving it a squeeze.

"Unless he's been watching reruns of Crocodile Dundee, you should probably go with him. I can handle it."

Jesse's expression sobered slightly. "I've never handled a werewolf before. If he's set on killing, I don't want to just be there to be in Claire's way."

"Well, thanks to Ben's shells, if he's set on killing, he won't get close enough." Claire squeezed Ben's hand, then leaned forward, nipping Jesse's lips before giving him a quick swat on the ass. "C'mon - it's gonna be colder soon."

Letting out a breath, Jesse pushed himself up and headed for the bathroom. He wasn't exactly comfortable with how they split, but it would have to do. Ben finished getting ready as well, silent as he got a coffee cup and filled it to the brim, his gaze unfocused. He just hoped that he was making the right choice.

Didn't matter how quickly Jesse and Claire got to the second attack site - it was still cold, colder even, than it had been when they left the hotel. But, Claire had been right about the mess of the place; the emergency vehicles, police and game-warden tracks mucking up the place, and just as it had been with the first site, a large chunk of missing foliage and snow where a body had been collected. From beneath her faux-fur lined hood, Claire's nose wrinkled, then puffed steam in the air.

The air smelled like snow and dirt and left-over motor oil, but also, she swore, blood.

Jesse's eyes scanned along the snow, out past were the authorities had stomped it all down. "He'd probably be wearing shoes, right? I mean, since they don't grow paws and things."

"So was everyone else around here, soooo..." Claire scanned the ground in front of her feet, taking slow steps toward the edge of the disturbed ground. "Look for the one that wanders ...off."

Her voice trailing, Claire's attention veered to a small scrap of a sapling on the edge, then angled toward the west. The undergrowth was equally disturbed, yet she headed in that direction anyway. "This way."

While it technically got brighter as the sun rose, the clouds were heavy, promising more snow, and everything looked gray as they walked through the woods. Jesse clutched the tranquilizer gun in gloved hands, staying right next to Claire as she led. He didn't know how long they walked, the monotony of the trees and sunlight giving no sense of time, but his toes started to feel numb.

"We might have to turn back; it's going to take just as long to get back to the car," he said, giving his red nose a rub.

"Probably," Claire answered, distractedly looking straight ahead through the trees. "But—we should probably worry about that later. Don't you recognize where we are?" Her voice had fallen to the timbre usually reserved for when they were hiding behind corners, lest something shoot at them.

Looking at him, she pointed a gloved finger toward a pretty crooked, and familiar looking tree. Beyond that was the shady outline of an equally familiar house.

It only took Jesse a moment. "Fuck," he breathed. "The Thornes." He nearly dropped the gun pulling out his cell phone to dial Ben. The phone rang twice, then went straight to voice mail. The surrounding woods was utterly silent, before the crack of a gunshot was heard in the house, briefly lighting one of the windows in the distant house.

In any circumstances, hearing that would've demanded an immediate reaction; this being no different, Claire stiffened reflexively. But the next instant, a horrible chill raced through her veins, as if ice water had replaced her blood. "Ben's in there..." Breath choked her words, squeezed out as she started at a run for the house.

Jesse took off after her, heart ricocheting at the words. He yanked his gloves off as he went, cold fingers gripping the gun. "Behind me, Claire!" he snapped as they neared the front door.

The door was unlocked and he burst through, gun up and at the ready. "Ben?"

"Get down, I only nicked him and the power's out!" came Ben's holler from somewhere in the house. "Don't let him get out!"

With her gun also readied, Claire hovered in the front doorway, eyes wide in the darkened house. Her nerves felt electrified, standing on end and practically buzzing with her pulse. Later, she'd swear she could feel the very air changing around them, but in that moment, her breath started when a rumble vibrated in her head.

A truck was turning down the long drive toward the house - the same they'd encountered on the street days before, belonging to the Thornes.

"They're here!" she said, pulling the door closed behind her. "Where'd he go, Ben!"

"I can't—" Ben started, but he was interrupted by a crashing body through the glass bay window in the kitchen. Ben swore loudly.

"Get down!" he shouted.

Jesse grabbed Claire, pulling her down and shielding her with his body. Another gunshot exploded in the space, but this time it came from another direction. There was the sound of bodies knocking together, and one resounding thud.

"Ben?" He pushed to his feet, headed for the kitchen. His heart dropped; Gail was digging ravenously into a body— not Ben, it's not Ben. Ben had pushed himself between a cabinet and half under the kitchen table, his hand pressed hard against his side. Even in the dark, it was obvious he was heavily bleeding.

"Jess, get down—" he croaked out. The kitchen door was thrown open, and Jay came in with a rifle pressed against his shoulder.

"Back up!" he barked loudly.

Jesse's eyes flicked from Jay to Ben. There was no question where the shot came from. The fear that had been racing through him hardened, and then burst into flame. He glared at Jay but didn't lift his own gun. He didn't have to.

Jay flew back, through the open dining door and pinned flat against the wall. He gave a scream of surprise, trying to twist his wrist and free his gun, but Jesse didn't let up, walking towards him. He shot Ben. He. Shot. Ben.

Blinded by that rage, Jesse didn't hear the warning growl that came from the bloody mess on the other side of the kitchen; Gail's features, twisted by an emotionally wrought change into what she really was, squared off in his direction - her yellow eyes flickered before she sprang with a hellish growl.

But it stopped short, and so did her attack. Claire, who had been tending to Ben, appeared as a wall between the werewolf and Jesse.

She stood there, rigid and wild-eyed, fists slick with Ben's blood curled out at her sides. Gail snarled, baring a mouthful of sharp teeth, held at bay by nothing but a stare.

"Stop," Ben begged in a wet voice. "Everyone stop."

"Get out of my house!" Jay shouted, still pinned to the wall. "Get out! Gail, run!"

"We're sorry," Ben continued to babble, his voice shaking. "We didn't know. We were tracking the boy, we didn't know—"

"Ben, are you alright? Where did he shoot you?" Jesse called, keeping his eyes on Jay even as he shifted closer to Claire, taking her arm.

She didn't react beyond the subtle loosening of her fists, her eyes not moving from the werewolf. Gail snapped and hissed, but continued to slink back like a beaten animal, before she finally whirled around and leaped through the kitchen window.

Ben gave a wet cough, trying to move and failing, and Jay knocked his head back against the wall, his demeanor doing a complete reverse.

"Let me go. I need to herd her into the cellar."

"You shot Ben," Jesse snapped. "And she fucking ate that kid!"

"She's gonna run straight to town if I don't stop her! Please!" the older man pleaded. "I can stop her!"

"Let'im go, Jess—!" Claire had broken her own trance at some point, and had fallen back to Ben's side with a hand over his bloodied side. Her voice was frayed. "We gotta get him to the doctor."

The anger in Jesse's face finally faltered. He hesitated just a moment before striding forward, grabbing Jay's rifle before releasing him. Jesse hardly noticed as Jay ran out, hurrying over to Ben and Claire.

"I'm sorry," he said, grabbing Ben's hand. Oh god, there was so much blood. There wasn't any question. "Ruth! Ruth, please!"

There was a deadening silence following his call, save for the sounds of Ben's gasping. Then the blond appeared to Jesse's left, her hair shifting as though she'd been running.

"Jess?" she asked breathlessly.

Jesse grabbed her arm, maybe a little too tightly. "Ben's been shot. Please help him." Ben's face had gone far too pale; Jesse reached down to cradle his head. Claire was already there, still with her hand clamped down on the hole in Ben's side.

But her eyes were on Ruth. The nephilim girl stared wide-eyed, looking everywhere at once, then reaching between the mess of hands to press her hand to Ben's forehead. His whole body seized and arched, then he fell flat on the ground, unmoving.

"I need space," she said in a firm voice.

Though his instincts screamed at him not to, there was nothing he could do at this point. Jesse crawled back, grabbing Claire's arm to pull her to him. Her eyes went hard, and she went rigid in Jesse's grip, but she didn't fight it.

Every hackle in Claire's body rose and bristled in the other woman's presence. Call it instinct or rivalry, probably both - it wasn't clear. The animosity, however, was. But Claire said nothing. Ruth's eyes rose to hers, her face trained neutral.

"I only stopped the bleed. I'm not done, and he needs air. I'll only be a few minutes."

"Fast as you can," Jesse said, his eyes fixed on Ben.

Ruth turned her eyes back to Ben, lifting his shirt to expose the wound. The hole was gaping and pulpy, but it wasn't bleeding. One hand pressed against the bullet hole, white against red, while the other settled against his forehead. The room seemed to brighten, light pooling out from where her hands touched him.

Claire barely breathed, finally having switched her gaze to Ben's face when the light faded. He breathed in, sudden and deep, then coughed hard. Ruth pulled her hand away, her lips curved up in a faint smile.

"Hey, Mister Hero," she said, her voice light and playful. "How many times do I have to fix you this year?"

Jesse jerked to go to him, but stopped, looking at Ruth. "Is it alright now?"

"I'm right here, jerk," Ben said in a sluggish voice. Ruth looked to Jesse, her mask up again.

Crawling forward, Jesse cupped his face, swallowing hard but smiling. "Ruth's right. You need to stop getting beat up."

A clear weight had lifted from Claire's gaze, softened when Ben started talking; at least enough so she could let a long breath out through flaring nostrils. She slacked back against the kitchen wall, watching the two of them for a moment more - if only to make sure it was real. When her eyes flicked to Ruth, they were still very, very wary, edged by something she couldn't control. But she was trying, if only for the sake that she'd just likely saved Ben's life. Ben pushed up on his arms, giving a weak wince. Ruth frowned.

"Is there pain?"

Ben shook his head, but his expression betrayed him. Ruth's frown deepened.

"I'll be fine," he reassured her before she had a chance to speak. "I'm sore is all. Thank you, Ruth. You saved the day again."

"We need to go," Claire finally broke her silence, albeit quietly. Her eyes lingered on Ruth before switching to the mangled body sharing the kitchen floor. "We have things to take care of."

Jesse's smile fell. He got to his feel, going for his gun. "She's right; we do."

Ben finally got to his feet, if only to grab Jesse's arm. "Don't," he said quickly. "We don't know the facts. He was defending his home."

"I don't care." Jesse's voice was hard. "There's a body on the floor, and that could have been you. So he better have more to say than he was defending his fucking home."

"What if he was defending his wife," Claire injected quickly, obviously still very much on edge. "We don't have time to split priorities - someone had to've heard those shots."

"His wife's a fucking monster who's been on a killing spree!" Jesse looked between them, expression pinched. "Isn't that what we're for? To stop people from dying?"

"Jess, they have a cage," Ben said seriously. He could hear Dean's voice in his head, but he ignored it. Deep down, it just didn't feel right. "If she was just a regular monster, why would they have a cage? Dean had never heard of a cage when I asked him. Please just— please can we pull back a second and regroup?"

Jesse stared at him a few seconds, then his jaw clenched. "I'm not letting them get away." Jerking his hand away, he ran out the kitchen door, tranquilizer gun in hand.

He flicked off the safety, eyes searching as he paced around the house. Turned out the caution was unneeded; he found Jay openly leaning on the cellar doors, panting hard. Jesse aimed the gun. Not that he was about to use it on Jay; it just had more intimidation factor.

"Where is she?"

Jay swallowed hard, but his expression was steely, fists clenched at his sides.

"I don't know who or what you are, but you stay the hell away from us," he snarled.

"Your wife there has been on a killing rampage," Jesse said with a grimace. "You really think I'm going to shrug and walk away?"

"She wasn't on a rampage!" he shouted. "It wasn't her fault! She can't control it! Mason broke three of my ribs assaulting me after work because I kicked him out of the bar. I barely got her away before she phased!" He was visibly shaking. "She'd been in lock down for four days! It was my fault! I didn't realize the lock had worn down!"

Jesse scowled, the gun easing down slightly. "Alright, alright, calm down. What happened with Mason? He's been missing a few days, so it's not like this was recent."

Jay gave a hysterical laugh. "I was late. I had tracked her, but she'd already gotten the other boys. She'd bitten him, but he wasn't dead. I thought he was. I was gonna come back to clear up the mess, but he was gone."

"And the hunter they found today?"

"They?" He shook his head hard. "We'd been tracking him all day. She hasn't left my side."

Jesse's jaw worked. "That was probably Mason then. And soon as she found him, she tore him up, too."

"What else should we have done?" the older man shouted. "He was dangerous! He would have destroyed everything!"

"She's dangerous! Why should I let her live when you didn't even give Mason a chance?"

"You don't—!"

There was a sudden ring from his pocket that immediately cut him off. He winced, then reached for the phone and brought it to his ear.

"Are you okay?" He said into the phone, his voice strained. There was silence, then his expression softened. "Baby, no, it's all right now. Please, don't—" There was an audible sob. "Listen to me. Don't do this again. We'll move. We can handle this. You—" His hand reached into his pocket, but he stopped. "I'm coming. Just sit there, okay? I'll be right down."

Weights seemed to settle in Jesse's stomach. He pursed his lips as Jay hung up. "She's human again." It wasn't a question. "Can you really handle this? Because it didn't work out this time."

"It was a mistake," he bit out. "It was my mistake. If you're gonna kill anyone, kill me."

"Don't tempt me," Jesse snapped. "You shot my partner."

"He was gonna shoot my wife!" Jay shouted, his voice breaking.

"She was gonna eat him!"

"Enough!" Ben yelled. He stood a few feet back, his expression pinched. Ruth and Claire were at his side. "Jesus Christ, I'm here and I'm fine, and it was an accident!"

"How the fuck was shooting you an accident?" Jesse glared at Ben, furious, before turning back to Jay. "Look, I know you want to save her. But if you can't keep her safe, if you can't stop her killing people, then you're not doing her any favors."

Jay had been too busy staring at Ben to respond, and it took him a moment before he finally spoke.

"You have no idea what we've been through," he said in a low voice. "She'd never had a problem, not since our son was kidnapped, and before that—" he moved his eyes back to Jesse, jaw clenched. "Just leave. This isn't your problem."

"Your son?" The fire had gone from Jesse's voice.

"She can't have kids," he said harshly. "He was adopted. That doesn't mean he wasn't ours, and that fuckin' bastard left him dead in a ditch. That was the first time she'd ever killed anyone."

Jesse lowered the gun completely, taking a long breath. He looked at Ben and Claire, then at the ground. "Okay. I...I guess that's all I needed to know."

Jay stared them down, unaffected by their reaction. He refused to move, protecting the door. Ben slid his hand into Claire's. She squeezed it tightly.

"You have to move on," Claire said quietly. Her tone was low, but intense, and her gaze switched to Jesse. It was imploring. "Us too."

He just nodded, backing away, settling at Ruth's side. Ruth wordlessly slid her hand down to his and gave it a light squeeze. Jay pulled his keys out of his pocket, eyes still on them as he worked the door open, then slid through the crack. There was the sound of what could only be a barricade dropping down on the other side of the door once it closed, then silence. Ben's hand shifted free to circle Claire's waist instead, then he stopped.

"Uh, where's the GTO?"

After telling Ruth to head home and that he would see her soon, Jesse went to grab the GTO, driving it back so they wouldn't have to make the long hike. The ride was silent, and even when they got to the hotel, it was an unspoken given that Claire got the shower first. Jesse stripped down to his undershirt before moving around the room, packing up what he could. They likely wouldn't stick around long. As he worked, he kept glancing at Ben, who was disassembling the information web on the wall near the computer. He worked shirtless, and with a very deliberate slowness that was unlike him. The continued silence, however, was not unexpected. That didn't mean it was killing Jesse any less.

He stared at Ben as he turned to grab his bag—and slammed his shin into the bed corner. He hissed in a breath, hobbling back. When he looked in Ben's direction again, the other man was looking at him, concern flickering in his eyes for the briefest moment.

"You okay?"

"Fine," he said with a sigh. Ben's jaw clenched and unclenched, but he turned back to what he'd been doing, his head turning just for a moment on the bathroom door.

Jesse's heart twinged. He put down his shirts. "Are you mad at me?" he asked quietly.

"I'm a lot of things at you," Ben replied in a low voice, dropping the last of the thumbtacks into the empty pill bottle and twisting it shut.

He'd really been hoping for a "no." Jesse shifted closer, but only a little. "I'm sorry. I— Except I'm not, really. I had every reason to question him. I didn't hurt anyone."

"You would have," Ben retorted.

"Not unless it was required," Jesse said firmly. "Only if they were dangerous."

"Don't give me that bullshit, I was looking right at you," Ben growled out. "If he hadn't had a moment of sharing and caring, you would have shot him in the head, then went down and finished the job. You didn't ask for the details; you saw red, you reacted."

"Yeah, because you can read my mind, right?" Jesse scoffed. "Why bother trusting that I'll know when I have enough information to make that call? Because only you can decide that, right?"

Ben's expression twisted, his hands clenching at his sides. "I'm not having this argument with you."

Jesse's breath hitched hard in his chest. He stormed towards Ben, colliding with him as he threw his arms around him and held on so tight it hurt. Ben tensed, and for the briefest moment it was almost as though Jesse could feel the bullet in him, grinding against bone. "Fuck you," he said through clenched teeth, closing his eyes. "Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you."

Ben moved his arms to settle around his shoulders, one hand fisting in his hair, but stayed silent for a long time. He hadn't even made an attempt to protect himself from any potential assault.

"Text next time, okay?" he said quietly against Jesse's hairline. "I wouldda got him if my phone hadn't gone off."

"I thought I watched you die," Jesse said roughly. "You stopped moving. And it would have been my fault."

Ben's hand flattened against his head, then settled against his neck. "You're gonna have to do that someday," he said quietly. "I'm not immortal."

The words ran through his body like ice. "Neither am I. But that doesn't mean you have to watch me bleed out. I can't do that again, Ben. I can't."

Ben let out a breath, shifting his arms just enough to hug him properly. "Jess," he very nearly whispered. "This isn't a life you can just walk away from, when you're human. It's a choice to get into it, yeah. Or maybe not, I don't know. I'm not Socrates. The point is, one way or another, it always pulls you back in and keeps you until you're done. Capital D. You know it just as much as I do; you could've left us a hundred times. Hell, you didn't even have to come back after we fixed you up the once."

"This life isn't the reason I came back," he said firmly. "This is really what we're going to bring a kid to? Is she going to have to watch us all die, too?"

It was two different and important things to address, and unfortunately Ben couldn't find a way to really answer either of them. He kissed Jesse's temple, then pulled back just enough to find his gaze.

"Everyone dies eventually, Jess," he said quietly. "What matters is how much it meant, in the end."

Though Jesse's eyes were watery, his jaw was firm. "You're going to lead a long fucking life, if I've got anything to do with it," he said, kissing Ben hard. Ben tensed again, just a little, but it didn't take much to wear him down. He was tired, and if Jesse's promise had any weight, he was going to be tired for a very long time.