…
You're so cold
Keep your hand in mine
Wise men wonder while strong men die
..
Claire Speaks
I hated it when people, especially men, bullied Lance.
When they showed him who was tougher, put Lance in "his place"
But Lance didn't have any reason to make that file.
I'm pretty sure I would have reacted the same way as Ben.
To have someone, a stranger know everything about you and make a final decision about you without actually knowing you or how or why those things that you did came to be would be the worst feeling.
Ben was an alright guy, trust me, I had a good sense of judgement with people. Sure he may have anger issues and could be like four seasons in one day, but so could I which is why I didn't want to lose him just yet.
So after I picked Lance off the floor and sat him in his chair, reassuring him, I grabbed my emergency bag and the case file and ran after Ben.
It should have felt horrible leaving Lance without another word but it felt worse watching Ben leave.
And honestly I needed the ride.
I was so grateful that he didn't ask any questions about what just happened, I honestly wouldn't know how to answer.
It had taken us just over a day's drive and we decided to just get all our information straight first before dressing up as cops and doctors.
The motel room was a generous size but still a bit cosy for two strangers. Ben instantly pulled out a bottle of whiskey as I sat down with my early dinner.
As I looked at the sloppy looking burger, I didn't know if my stomach grumbled with hunger or disgust. One of these days I was going to find some time to actually go shopping and make a healthy dinner, one just like my father used to cook up.
Snoring broke me from my thoughts and I glanced across to Ben, face down on the bed sleeping.
Letting him sleep; he had driven all this way obviously, I decided that the burger repulsed me and I dropped it in the bin on my way to change.
Hanging up my FBI uniform neatly and now in my comfortable track pants, I found Bens whiskey and poured myself a decent glass.
The yellow file lay open on the table, pictures and paper fanned out across the old plastic table top. On top of the pile was my mobile, vibrating with an incoming call from Lance only to add one more number to the already nine missed calls.
Gulping down what was in the glass; I snatched up the bottle and marched away from the sleeping Ben and faces of victims and ringing mobile…
The cold air slammed me in the chest as I quietly shut the door behind me, sighing as I slid down until I was comfortably numb on the icy pavement.
Night, cold, winter, blue
I hated it. I hated them.
Every time, every single damn time.
Too many memories, too much hurt.
Too much emptiness…
Claire loved her father.
Sometimes she thought that God would punish her for loving one parent more than the other. Of course she loved her mother, but it was probably because of the fact that she was her mother. As a person, an individual, Claire loved her father dearly.
Jimmy Novak; human, sales man, husband and father, great cook and religious man. From what Claire could remember, her father loved to spend whatever time he could with her, even if it meant clipping her new hair clips into his soft hair or tea with Mr Cuddles and Big Ted. She loved it too.
When she was older, it was making sure she knew how to correctly do algebra and "the birds and the bees"; Christian style.
Claire had begged her parents to allow her to do science and human biology; her mother not too pleased with the evolution of man that they were teaching. But Jimmy knew that Claire was just curious and he respected that, and in turn Claire resected him.
She was only eleven when things started to go wrong. It all happened so fast she hardly had time to fully understand. Mum and Dad were arguing more; Amelia slowly losing her faith as Jimmy began to say strange, crazy things.
Castiel.
The first time she heard that name was while she was sleeping. At first she thought the ringing in her ears was because it was so late, but she could hear the voice, make out words that were whispered to her.
'Who are you?' she whispered back, voice dry and terror growing in her stomach as she tried to hide beneath the blankets of her be. The was no escape; it was there, in her mind, behind her eyes.
'I am Castiel. Do not be afraid.'
The dim light behind her eyelids intensified, almost burning her from the inside out but if she didn't struggle, when she tried to see, tried to listen…she couldn't explain it. So warm an pure, fierce and soothing.
She told no one about it. Not even her father but she cried for months every night after her father walked away. Would he have stayed if she had told him? Was this her fault?
Even when Jimmy began to talk to Amelia, late at night thinking Claire wasn't listening, he said that the Angel Castiel was speaking to him, saying he was the chosen one.
Was Claire not good enough?
Losing her father twice to the same angel was bad enough; her father giving up everything to say yes to Castiel… she couldn't think what it was that she and her mother did wrong. When he father returned after one long year, Claire thought everything would go back to normal, that the angel would stay away an let her have her family as a whole again.
It never happened.
As her father lay dying, blood spilling from the wound in his stomach, Claire knew she had to do something.
'I can help. You want to save your mother and father don't you?'
Yes.
It was the hardest word Claire had ever had to say. She didn't know what to suspect before she was engulfed by the burning light. It was constantly moving, swirling around her like liquid every time she tried to move.
'Thank you, Claire Novak.'
She never had the chance to say her final goodbyes to her father. He had returned after a year only to be snatched away before she could even tell him that she had passed her years at school with flying colours, trying to give him a reason to come home, that she loved him more than God himself.
Maybe this was her punishment for idolising him rather than God.
That wasn't what killed Claire the most though.
Once Castiel had finished using her; after assuring her there would be decades, maybe centuries of being locked inside herself, forever drowning in the fulfilling burning light and glory of an Angel, she felt hollow. A shell no longer needed.
Finished with, impure…useless.
Cold.
The blue, lively eyes that were once her fathers were now nothing but a pale shade of what they had been. The thing looking through those eyes now was not her father, never again will be, not the vigorous shine with life; just harsh and stale like a blizzard.
Nothing was the same after that…
Her mother changed into someone Claire couldn't stand. As soon as she could she was out of there, getting on with her life but she was forever haunted. The world of the supernatural was something that she couldn't escape and each time she killed something, each time she saved a family from being torn apart, she could feel warm…
'Claire, your freezing!'
I flinched away from Bens hands as he knelt in front of me suddenly. It was too dark to see any of his features but I knew it was him, who else cared?
'Leave me,' I mumbled, trying to push his hands away. I couldn't feel my fingers as Ben took the now empty bottle away from me, but when he gripped my hand in his tightly, only then did I realise how cold it was.
'How long have you been out here for?'
I shrugged my shoulders carelessly; I had forgotten that I was out here.
My eyes were making it difficult to focus on anything, Ben just a black blob in my vision of silver and blue. The moon loomed heavily over us, bright as it cast cold rays of silver, piercing me through flesh and mind.
'Cold, eyes too cold…'
Ben was asking what I meant, but he was stupid, he didn't know. Even if he did, he wouldn't understand.
The world shifted suddenly around me, a clattering of teeth sounding in my ears. A strong scent of leather and salt was surprisingly comforting and I burrowed my face into Bens chest.
Everything was moving so violently, or was I just trembling?
I tried to keep my eyes open, to focus on Ben as he lay me down gently, taking hold of my hands tightly when I didn't let go.
'Relax Claire, go to sleep.'
'No,' I winged, shaking my head, but it didn't help. I closed my eyes to stop the swirl of images, but it was only replaced with eyes.
Cold, blue eyes.
So hollow inside, so lonely…
'Too cold, his eyes are too cold. It's not right!'
Ben stretched out beside me, nudging his arm around me until my head lay on his chest and his arm wrapped tightly around my shoulders. The shivering stopped and so did the clatter in my eyes and I relaxed into Ben, sniffing as he stroked my hair. I wanted to snap and tell him that I wasn't a pet cat but my father used to do that, so did my mother.
Now I had no one.
'It's not fair, always cold.'
Ben hushed me, and I tried desperately to make some sort of tear fall from my eyes, try to show some sort of emotion other than a gross sob but nothing came.
I was too frozen.
But Ben was reminding me that there was still warmth out there.
Just… how long would this last?
The rich smell of coffee filled my nose, stale enough that it woke me. Cracking one eye open, I was met with the bright kitchen light that pierced my skull.
With a groan I rolled, bringing the blanket over my head. It was too early to be up and my throat was too sore to even think of moving.
'Morning.'
I groaned again, propping myself up on my elbow to turn and see Ben sitting himself down at the table. Sitting myself up properly, my head swam and I tangled my fingers in messy hair. I hated it when people saw me in the mornings, but if Ben was to stay he would have to get used to it, and so would I.
'How are you feeling?'
'Like I slept in the freezer.' I mumbled, wrapping the blanket around me as I stood. I vaguely remembered being outside, and Ben bringing me inside… it made me pause in my steps when he just sat there, grinning at me.
'Well I did find you outside with my bottle of whiskey, empty. Can't handle a little liquor?'
I forced a laugh as I sat in front of him, a coffee settled amongst the photos and maps on the table for me.
'Please, I could drink you under the table any day.'
'Then what happened last night?'
I could hardly remember anything, only eyes…
'Nothing. Just tired.' I gulped my coffee, loving the feel of it burning down to my stomach. Ben was casually drinking his, watching me intently. He opened his mouth, only 'well, what hap-' came from his mouth before I put my hand up, silencing him.
'Just read, we have a job to do, so let's get on with it.'
I finished my coffee as I stood and made my way to the bathroom, dropping the blanket on my bed as I went. Ben remained silent, but I could feel his eyes burning into me until the door was shut behind me.
With a deep breath, I switched on the light and waited for the pounding to finish in my ears. After turning the taps on full, the steam filling the bathroom slowly, I leaned on the small counter, staring at the face looking back. Long, curly blonde hair fell messily around my sunken pale face; even I knew I was too skinny for my health.
I hated looking in mirrors.
I've heard so many people tell me that I am beautiful, stunning, gorgeous… but I am just like any other girl, I don't see it. To me I am a skinny brat that does too much hunting than resting, too much diner food rather than healthy cooked meals, eyes that were too much like my fathers for my liking.
Stripping off my clothes, everything seemed to move slowly as I stood under the blistering water. It cascaded down my hair and across my skin.
I had to get my mind back into the hunt. No one got through a game of tag while they were distracted by the birds in the sky.
A sharp knock on the door made me jump, turning the taps off as I listened to Ben speak on the phone.
'Yes of course. Eight o'clock? No worries, we will be on time.' He emphasised the on time and I rolled my eyes. It was still early, and I wasn't that much of a girl that I spent forever in the bathroom.
Stepping out in a towel, I froze just as Ben did when he looked up. Suddenly I felt naked in front of him. I never felt like this, I was the one with the will of iron and no shame of who I am! But when I tried to pull the towel down lower, it wouldn't and I really did feel exposed.
Ben was half way through putting an arm through his white shirt, the smooth plains of his chest and abdomen exposed for me to drink in. He was staring, at what I wasn't sure, but his eyes moved down my neck to my shoulder, only to blink when the water droplet met the towel.
Clearing his throat he shrugged on his shirt and turned his back; myself quickly hooking my bag on my foot and tossing it into the bathroom.
'Sorry, that was careless…'
I looked up one last time through my damp hair to see Ben looking again, a small smile on his face as I scurried back into the bathroom.
'Don't be.'
I shut the door again, slapping my forehead angrily. Why did I have to blush, why did I have to retreat back into the bathroom like a frightened hatchling?
I could have yelled at him, should have, but I didn't want to.
Drying my hair quickly, I twisted it neatly into a bun before I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My reflection screamed of someone who had spent the night outside crying rather than a professional so I ripped out my makeup. Rarely did I use this, surprising I know, but when your hunting and sweating, the last thing you want is mascara running into your eyes.
Looking somewhat more decent, I slipped on some clean under garments and poked my head out the door quietly.
Ben was not in the room so I quickly snatched my clothes off the hanger, hating buttons as I raced to do them up. My pants were easily on, and short heeled shoes were stepped into casually but my buttons did not wish to co-operate.
The front door opened and Ben walked in.
All I could think of was "just be cool."
He was dressed, his black suit and dark brown tie making him look like an almost different person.
He looked good.
'Ready to go?'
I stood straight, the top four buttons of my shirt still undone. I saw his eyes drop there and I couldn't help but smirk.
'Does it look it?'
Ben just smiled back at me, dammit, why wasn't he looking away?
'I thought that maybe you were going to try and seduce answers out of people today.'
With a hiss I grabbed my phone and jacket, doing up my buttons as I marched out the door, shoving Bens shoulder with mine as I passed.
'Bastard.'
'Brat.'
'So this was all that you found of the victim?'
I stared down at the few limbs and torso that was neatly arranged on the cold metal table. They were a stale cream colour, vivid red still lining the edges where they had been torn from one another roughly.
'Afraid so.' The doctor replied, a heavy sigh escaping his old mouth. Pushing back grey hair, he wheeled the corpse back and shut the door, moving us backwards to pull out another one.
'The police say that animals got to them before they did.' He pulled back the cover to reveal another body… parts of it and pointed out the small bite marks.
'Do you know what size the animal was, roughly?'
Ben bent down, moving bits of the flesh with the tip of his pen. I didn't like the morgue but I never felt uncomfortable in one.
'Mm, judging by these I would say something small to medium; Mountain cat, small scavengers.'
As he covered the body up again, Ben gently tugged my elbow, pulling me aside.
'It could be anything; wendigo, where-wolf…'
I lowered my voice as the doctor moved passed us.
'It couldn't be a wendigo; they wouldn't leave… the best parts.' I cringed slightly as a chill shot up my spine, straightening my shirt as I turned back around.
'Doctor Welsh, in any of the victims that had, chests, were their hearts missing?'
The doctor turned slowly to us, raising a grey eyebrow.
'No, Mr Jason had his heart intact. Is this some sort of serial killing freak?'
I tried to give him my most reassuring face, but I couldn't hide my mind working over time trying to figure out what it was we were dealing with.
'Thank you for your time Dr Welsh, keep in touch if you find out anything else.'
Ben gave a reassuring smile and exited the room, myself nodding my head and following him up the corridor.
We walked in silence for a little while, only the sound of my heels falling around us until we got out into the main ward. Nurses were bustling around and patients watching as life went by them.
'So, any ideas Skully?' I asked, trying to keep my posture professional as we passed the main desk.
'Honestly, I don't know. Like you said it isn't a wendigo,' the doors were pushed open and a cool breeze made me button up my jacket to try and shield me from it, 'and the heart was still in place so no werewolf.'
He pulled out his car keys but as he did he opened his other hand and held it to me.
'I did find these.'
Dropping the small items into my palm, Ben loosened off his tie and leant on te car as I stared down at the tiny flecks of wood.
'Splinters? Whoa, you know, I didn't know someone could fall over in a national forest and get splinters.'
Ben screwed up his face, not sure whether to laugh or be hurt, yanking open the door.
'Brat.'
I chuckled slightly, poking the small bits of wood with my fingernails before I dropped myself into the car as Ben turned the car on.
I liked this car.
The dark clouds were getting heavier as we grabbed some food from a diner and made out way back to the motel. Roads were quiet and people quickly leaving the streets to get to their homes before the storm hit.
'I hope it isn't like this too long.' I mumbled. I noticed Ben raise an eyebrow and I just sighed.
'I don't like rain.'
'Or the cold.'
I tore my eyes away from him again and focused them elsewhere; remembering part of last night.
'I am sorry about that. I am not normally like that.'
'Don't worry about it. I am sorry for yelling at Lance. Is he alright?'
I just nodded my head, staring down at the small pieces of wood in my hand. They would have had to come from the forest; they were a pale green, and only something that fresh would come from the national park. The only thing that stumped me was what was ripping apart men if they weren't going to eat them?
'Claire?'
I snapped my head up again, blinking a few times.
I didn't look around at Ben, but I could feel his eyes burn on me as he pulled into the motel.
'Are you alright?'
It had been a while since anyone asked me that and I tried hard not to show any emotion on my face. Instead I freed my hair from its bun, allowing it to fall around my face as I hung my head with a fake chuckle.
'I'm fine.'
When I glanced at Ben through my hair, his face was one of disapproval. There was a hint of sadness and I began to panic about what I had said last night.
'Are you sure?'
'We have got to stop doing this!' I laughed, opening the car door, 'We're acting like a couple of teenagers that have such a horrible secret.'
A warm hand again wrapped around my wrist and I paused, following it up to Bens eyes.
At least his weren't blue.
'We do.'
I couldn't argue with him there, but I pulled my hand from his and patted his cheek before I stood out of the car, straightening my shirt.
'Well, let's pull out the chick flicks and hot chocolate later alright? We have something to hunt before it kills anyone else.'
Ben smiled and followed me out into the motel room, sitting himself down with a burger.
He had one hell of an appetite.
'So, got any leads Nancy?'
I stripped off my jacket and sat with him at the table, looking over the evidence we had. Ben pushed my salad towards me but I ignored it; when I was thinking I didn't like to try and do two things at once.
'Ok. We know that all three victims are male, anywhere between twenty to forty and another four still missing. We can assume that they all went camping or hiking in the national park around the same time or…' I searched through the paper until I pulled up a sheet, listing all other disappearances.
There was no pattern at all.
'Whatever this thing is, it doesn't have a period it sleeps or hunts, it just is.'
'So some sort of animal, curse?'
'Could be.'
I sighed as I rubbed my temple, the bits of wood sitting on the table, waiting to be put into the puzzle.
'They aren't splinters.' Ben mumbled around a mouthful. I frowned at him, so he swallowed his food nervously before pointing at them again. 'They can't be. Splinters penetrate from the outside in. These ones were coming from the inside out.'
'Some legends have Gods stuffing victims with acorns and others with certain leaves…'
'A God? We're hunting a god?'
'Use your ears!' I growled, smiling as he held his hands up in surrender. 'I'm just saying. It could be anything, witches with curses, demon trees…'
'There's something to look forward to. In a forest looking for a tree.'
I slapped his shoulder as I moved to the kitchen, grabbing a pain tablet from the counter and swallowing it with a glass of water. This headache was getting worse, the pounding in my ears all too familiar.
It was like all the times I had an argument with my mother and she would retreat to her lounge with her bottle of wine or scotch; whatever was closest to her and I would escape to my room or outside with a pounding headache that would last for days and ache all the way to my heart.
'Are you sure you are alright?'
Ben was in front of me again and groaned.
'Just getting a headache, thinking of too much at once.' When didn't move, eyes still focused on me I raised an eyebrow. Dam he was a sticky beak when he wanted to be.
'Just, this hunt, lack of sleep from last night and my mother.'
'You have a mum?'
I twisted to look back at him as I sat back down at the table, Ben with a surprised look on his face.
'No, just kidding, I was brought here by aliens… of course I have a mother.'
Bens surprise dropped suddenly and I became nervous; was his still alive?
'You're lucky then.'
'If you call having a neglectful alcoholic mother lucky then yeah.'
'I lost my mother, just as the war started.'
He sat back down again and I bit my lower lip. How could I be so careless?
'I'm sorry.'
'Huh, not that it matters,'
'Of course it matters.' I mumbled, reaching out to hold his hand as I gave him the best smile I could muster.
'Father?' I asked nervously. I hated the topic, but this was my one chance to get information out of Ben, to find out who he was and why he felt so familiar to be around…
'I don't know. Missing I guess, or dead. You?'
'Exactly the same.'
We sat in a silence for a while that was heavy around us, only the ring of a phone distracting us. Ben slipped his hand gently out of mine to answer.
'We'll find them, one day.' He smiled at me and moved to the other side of the room, 'Conner.'
I remained still, my thoughts now drifting over the topic of family.
I hadn't had a family since I was ten. My mother, if she was even still alive, probably hadn't even noticed I was gone, perhaps when the fridge wasn't filled with food or the wine rack no longer full. I couldn't go back there; it was like asking a free man to go to jail.
My father… he was dead. There would have to be some part of him still alive in his own body but it would be too insignificant to be called my dad.
No, if I ever found the angel wearing my father, I will kill him.
..
If you find your family, don't you cry
In this land of make-believe, dead and dry
…
Hi guys, Thanks for the reviews and the questions. Well, I never actually thought about it, but if i had to choose, I would love Teresa Palmer and Ian Somerhalder, because she is stunning and he has that sort of roughness that I think suits Ben well. I love creating my own characters, exploring how they become who they are. Everyone has an event or something in their life which encourages you to act in a certain way and see things differently. I just keep exploring who they could be.
Thanks for reading!
Silver-Kirin
xXx