Heeeeey, so um, stuff….. You guys know I love you right…? And I'd never knowingly lie to you… maliciously at least? Um…. Well…. 66 got REALLY long…. Like it was no where close to done and it was almost 4000 words already….. SO, I've broken it into at least 3 chapters, 2 of which are done… I'm very sorry! The only note for this chapter is Claire has red eyes because she killed the alpha who bit her. Incidentally he also killed the rest of the pack, as they were pretty bad people and refused to change their ways and didn't respect Claire as their alpha because she was a hunter and they attacked her, etc etc, it's a whole ordeal, let's not get into it. Anyway she does not recognize or care about her Alpha status, and doesn't know much about it as it is, and will not and would not use that to influence others. She's never bitten anyone or anything she didn't kill soon after, or at least intend to kill… She might have a beta or two floating around, but none she knows of, and I don't know if that will come up in the story at all. And she is certainly not THE Alpha, as in the big bad, I think we've already made pretty clear who that is. If you don't know, well! Don't you have a surprise coming!

~.~

Claire repositioned her hair and lifted her chin a bit more, trying to take a goodnight picture for Kaia. It still wasn't right. She arched her back a bit more and changed the camera angle. That looked good, she supposed. She hit the camera button. As the timer clicked to one, her bedside lamp flickered. The picture snapped, and of course, it was completely dark, though it'd also made her jump and look away, so the picture would've been ruined either way.
"Ew," She sneered, remembering the ghost was supposedly Stiles' dad. "Get out and mind your own business, perv…" She said adjusting the lightbulb in hopes it would keep it from flickering again, and went back to what she was doing.
The plug ripped out of the outlet as the lamp flew of the end table onto the floor. Claire's eyes glowed bright red, even though she knew her powers wouldn't do her any good as an apparition of a teenaged girl flickered into visibility, seeming to be a year or two younger than Stiles, covered in gruesome wounds and blood, neck and arm visibly broken.
"What the fuck…" Claire stuttered, clamoring off the bed, going for her bag. The ghost materialized between her and the bag. Claire swore internally, but it didn't come at her. All she could really do is stand there. It pointed at the door, glaring at her insistently, apparently not able to speak. Claire tried to relax. She buttoned her flannel and went to open the door as the thing wanted. She looked up and down the hall.
Nothing seemed to be going on. She could hear Dean and Crowley snoring, Sam's deep breaths, Stiles breathing a bit fast, ragged, almost panting, but definitely still asleep. Claire turned to ask the spirit what it wanted, flinching when she turned to see it right behind her, staring expectantly.
"Fucking shit… What!" She whispered angrily. It looked up away from her, and pointed where it was looking, across the hall to Stiles' door. Claire hesitated but turned away again, walking carefully up to Stiles' door. Now that she was closer and paying attention, she could hear Stiles' sniffling and lungs shaking as he inhaled, and hitch as he exhaled. She relaxed a bit, relieved it sounded like he was just having a nightmare. She opened the door, not bothering with the light. She didn't need to see with how well she could hear and smell Stiles. She figured the moonlight from the window and the light coming from her room would be enough for Stiles to see her, since he'd been in the dark for hours. Stiles' was shaking so hard she could hardly get a hold of him. Finally she did and she gave him a gentle shake. "Stiles!" She whispered. It didn't work. She shook a little harder, and suddenly he flung himself into a sitting positions. She grabbed him trying to be comforting in her hold on him. "Woah, hey, hey!" She tried.

"Fuck you-fuck you!" He stuttered as he woke, obviously not speaking to her, breathing heavy, still sobbing. She sat on the bed and hugged him.

"Hey, it's okay, it's okay, Stiles, you're awake, it's okay…." As he seemed to come back to reality, he gripped her arm and leaned his head on hers as he tried to stop crying. After a few minutes letting him calm down in silence, she pulled away, rubbing his back. "You gonna be alright, dude?" He looked to her and nodded, giving a dry sniffle.

"Y-Yeah, thanks... I'm gonna take a bath, try to calm down…" He said shakily, sounding like it was hard to speak.

"Kay… I'm about to wind down, but you know where I am, yeah? Don't worry about giving a knock..." She felt awkward, she wasn't good at people, but she wanted to make sure he knew she was there if he needed anything. She'd been there before, she knew how hard it was suffering all alone. He nodded.

"Thanks, I will…" He smiled and Claire took that as her cue to leave. She went back to her room, not wanting to worry him by telling him what happened. She put the lamp back. Texted Kaia about what had happened. Sent a few selfies. Said her good nights, and sweet dreams again. Slipped her iron crowbar out of her bag and put it under her bed. She pulled back the covers, snuggled into bed, turned out the lights, and tried to relax. With nothing else to focus on, though, she realized she smelled blood that wasn't her own. Blood from something else. So pungent and distinct and unfamiliar she got out of bed to follow the smell.