My retort was cut of once the doorbell rang. I dropped all semblance of pretending not to care about the older woman as I bolted to the door to open it. Had it been anyone else, I'd feel like a fool, but luckily Claire did indeed stand on the other side, smiling warmly, somehow.

"Moira!" She said, holding open her arms as I fell into her eagerly.

So it wasn't the coolest thing I'd ever done, but I didn't care anymore. I'd missed Claire goddamn it! I'd missed this big loveable dope more than I could even care to admit. I'd willingly given my life away for her, well, more or less anyway. I had indeed survived, but it wasn't exactly pleasant. Nevertheless, I was home now, I was safe just as everyone else was. "Hey. Hey you made it."

"For you? Always." She said as she held me tightly. There was a sense in the air that Claire feared letting me go. If she did, I might vanish once again, this time never to be found. It was a stupid worry, but Claire had lost enough people already. I seemed to be returning to a comfortable home life, but that never lasted in her experience. Just had to enjoy it while it lasted...

It took me a long while to realize I was staring at her. Something in my mind was wavering now as I gazed at the woman. I felt something creeping up inside me, some darkness I'd fought to subdue. Flashes of her filth covered face caught me off guard as I stood in her arms. She watched me right back, and I think she was whispering to me now, trying to call me back into reality. The next thing I knew my hands were on her face and neck, trying to discern whether or not she was really here. It took me a full minute and a half to ground myself once again, and once I did, I immediately tried to ignore what just happened.

"Ride wasn't too bad? Weren't busy?" I rambled off questions, as I pulled Claire inside, hand on her wrist, the left wrist, specifically, because that one was free of ugly scarring. At night, the spot where that damn bracelet had been still burned, and I feared if I pulled on where Claire's had been, I might hurt her as well. We had scars to match now. Almost romantic.

Natalia seemed to have vanished as soon as she arrived. The girl had a weird habit of doing that, and we all did our best to explain it away. A knock on the door probably made her shy away from being seen. Polly could only watch in amusement as we entered but I chose to ignore it, it was better she think something childish than know the hideous truth. To my sister, it probably seemed my overzealous hero-worship had not faded. I did faintly wonder though, had I expected something more out of this relationship? Was there a part of me that still longed to spend my life with this woman? Did Claire see it? Probably. Were we ignoring it? Definitely.

We didn't stick around long. I packed an overnight bag as quickly as I could while Claire and Barry spoke quietly together in the kitchen. What about I couldn't really say. Things had been calm for a while, which was good for them. If life would just stay this way then maybe they could be happy; we all could. Even if things here were calm, that didn't mean life was perfect.

At least, so thought my mother as she looked Claire over. When I returned downstairs, I caught sight of the glance my mother gave Claire once Claire saw me. The redheaded dope smiled at me, immediately deciding I was the most important person in the room, and the look made my heart flutter just a bit. I could feel my parents watching us even after we said our goodbyes, but I don't think she noticed.

The woman who walked outside with an arm around their daughter? The woman 12 years their daughter's elder? She was a problem. Claire's behavior was a problem. Barry tried to keep this worry suppressed for now, I could gather that much. I knew a long time ago we'd moved to Canada because my dad worried something bad would happen to us if we stayed in the states. Because of Claire, something bad happened to me anyway. I didn't blame her. It wasn't her fault. I suspected my parents, on some level, blamed her for everything. It was easier that way, it probably made coping easier for them. Yes, Claire had been part of the rescue, but she'd been part of the kidnapping too.

I couldn't reasonably be kidnapped twice hanging out with Claire, right? Barry was unaware of the full nature of our relationship and he did not want to be aware of it. Two adults could do whatever the hell they pleased, but he was much happier not thinking about what sort of things we might be up to. It was easier to think of us as really good friends and nothing, nothing more. Although, that's really all it was, wasn't it? Yes there was a certain closeness that developed out of what they'd been through, but that was a given. It didn't mean anything unless they made it mean something.

Claire and I tried to return to our lives together before we had been swept away to hell. Well, for me it had been hell, for Claire it had simply been another very inconvenient trip. She was built for escape, I for survival as it so turned out. Not that I had been alone, but Claire had reminded me a few times how she couldn't have lasted half a year with her sanity intact. Had I?

Pushing the thoughts out of my head for a while, I took to trying to make idle conversation with Claire. "No bike today?"

"No bike today." She replied as she backed out of the driveway. "Disappointed?"

"A bit. Thought we'd get to ride off into the sunset together or something cool."

"It's morning still. Nearly afternoon. What sunset did you have in mind?"

"Ah...Hmm...fuck."

"Maybe later tonight we can do that." She offered, smiling over at me.

As we drove, I found myself once more staring at Claire again. It wasn't hard to get caught up staring at her, but this time I wasn't just admiring the view. My thoughts drifted into dark places again as I thought of those six months Claire spent alone. She thought I was dead. I knew she was in bad shape when I got back, I noticed things about her I hadn't before, but I never brought them up. She'd lost weight, her skin had paled, and, for whatever reason I still hadn't brought up, she'd chopped off her hair. As far as I knew, she'd had the same hairstyle since she was little. She'd been through this bio-terror bullshit before and never changed her hair then. Maybe I was thinking about it too much, maybe I just wanted to attribute some selfish, self-centered meaning to her changes. Claire wouldn't talk about them with me, she told me the same thing I told her. I'm fine.

I don't think we were fine.