[ She traveled with them for so long. Longer than either he or Dean had ever expected. At first, she'd been like Jo-- sweet, feisty, damn useful. But, things had changed. Over time, he'd stopped convincing himself that he felt toward her like he might toward a sister. That she wasn't going to disappear, that he wouldn't be responsible for her death. He'd promised himself that. While she looked out for them, he, in return, kept a very close eye on her.
That was how things had been. He hadn't said anything to her, and hadn't planned on it, given his track record. But, it was enough to be with Claire, to see her, to harbor a growing love for her from next to where she was.
Until, she wasn't there anymore. He'd gotten skittish, or maybe reality had set in. He knew that one way or another, he'd end up being responsible for something horrible happening to the woman he loved most. So, he'd quietly suggested that she head home, where she'd be safe. They'd argued, and it had ended up a more panicked and violent thing than he'd ever anticipated. She'd fought back, of course she had, but he insisted. And then, she was gone.
That's how it'd been for months. Maybe it'd been a year, even. Either way, she wasn't in their life anymore, and each day was like going on without something crucial locked in his life. Except, on this particular Friday, when he'd woken up in the dark, blinking drearily into the light of the alarm clock, things were different. He turned, sleepily, and it took all of five seconds to realize that someone was there.
Automatic reaction? Panicked flailing, scrambling off the bed. He snatched up the pistol from the bedside table, and saw quickly that Dean wasn't in the room (bathroom, maybe?) Either way-- ]
1. :3
That was how things had been. He hadn't said anything to her, and hadn't planned on it, given his track record. But, it was enough to be with Claire, to see her, to harbor a growing love for her from next to where she was.
Until, she wasn't there anymore. He'd gotten skittish, or maybe reality had set in. He knew that one way or another, he'd end up being responsible for something horrible happening to the woman he loved most. So, he'd quietly suggested that she head home, where she'd be safe. They'd argued, and it had ended up a more panicked and violent thing than he'd ever anticipated. She'd fought back, of course she had, but he insisted. And then, she was gone.
That's how it'd been for months. Maybe it'd been a year, even. Either way, she wasn't in their life anymore, and each day was like going on without something crucial locked in his life. Except, on this particular Friday, when he'd woken up in the dark, blinking drearily into the light of the alarm clock, things were different. He turned, sleepily, and it took all of five seconds to realize that someone was there.
Automatic reaction? Panicked flailing, scrambling off the bed. He snatched up the pistol from the bedside table, and saw quickly that Dean wasn't in the room (bathroom, maybe?) Either way-- ]
Hey. Who are you?