Claire Winchester (née Bennet) (regenerating) wrote in parabolical, @ 2009-04-08 18:42:00 |
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Entry tags: | ben braeden, claire bennet (future), dean winchester, mary winchester |
WHO: Claire Bennet (future), Ben Braeden, Mary Winchester, Dean Winchester
WHERE: Claire's house
WHEN: Saturday, April 8, 2006; evening
WHAT: Losing those you care about is never easy.
RATING: PGish
STATUS: log; COMPLETE!
This time, Claire hadn't cried on finding out someone else had gone, not because the loss didn't hurt, but because of a combination of feeling all but cried out, knowing that Angela or Lyle weren't dying or ceasing to exist and just feeling so numb to it all. But her grandmother and brother were gone, and with Angela went the relationship they'd built over the last nine months, which meant it was still a loss that Claire felt deeply. There would be no going home and gaining that back like her sister could. All Claire could have of those family relationships had to be here. After Nathan had left to go back to the Hyperion, the temptation to call Dean back to the house had increased, but while he'd been out getting a few things for her house, Ralph had called and needed him to come in for the evening, due to being shorthanded and behind. She didn't want him rushing back just so she could cry all over him again, so she'd told him to go do the few hours of work and then resisted the urge to call him later. In a need to distract herself - a poorly executed distraction, but distraction was its intent - she found herself rereading old posts on the boards, until she came to the original exchange to make a deal to bring Noah here alive the first time. Back then it hadn't been something she could say no to right away, and even nearly said yes to in the height of grief, and right now, she almost wanted that offer out there again. He was gone, dead, and she missed him more now today than she had when she'd originally been told he died in her timeline, because these months in Los Angeles had not only given them back their former father-daughter relationship, it had made it better, stronger. She'd no longer come at their relationship as a girl stuck forever in a five years dead time, she'd matured and been able to truly understand him for all she'd had to live through, rather than blame him, and had the chance to apologize for youthful blindness. Things were better, and she'd started to hope that they all really would have a life here. And then they'd sent him back to die and, one by one over the last few days, Claire was losing the people she cared about, from family to friends. First her dad, then Charlie, then Heather and the baby and now Angela and Lyle. How many more people would she lose? Coming out of Claire's kitchen, Ben sat down on the couch, next to Claire instead of at one end of it. Before now, he hadn't really had to deal with anyone he knew well going away, other than Hannah, or seeing how much other loses affected people he knew, but this week had been a learning experience, an incredibly sucky one. "I called Dad, he'll be here in a few minutes," he said, picking at the hole in his jeans. Despite the gesture giving away his unease, the deed was announced boldly, as though he didn't care if she got mad at him, he'd decided it was the right thing to do. Setting the laptop on the coffee table in front of her, Claire swiped at her face with the shoulder of her pyjama shirt, likely unsuccessfully hiding the few tears that had managed to form, and then turned to face Ben. "You didn't have to do that," she said softly, shifting to put her arm around his shoulder. What, was she supposed to be angry at him? Of course not. Much like Dean, he'd no doubt decided he knew what was the best thing to do and had done it. By being a girl and upset, that seemed to counter the Winchester posturing about anything that resembled cuddling, so when Claire slung an arm around Ben, she was rewarded with him wrapping his arms around her in return. With a soft, shaky sigh, she rested her head against his. The thing about the Winchester posturing about cuddling was that Ben was still young enough to get away with the fact that cuddling was one of the fastest was to getting that close to hot babes. That wasn't the case with Claire - not because she'd stopped being hot, but because she'd started dating his Dad - though, as he knew she needed hugs right now, ones he was happy to give. "This really sucks." And once again, the simplest statement of Ben Braeden hit the nail on the head. Mary knew how hard it was for Claire to deal with this. She was still reeling from the loss of Heather and the grandchild she had so been looking forward to. She tried to hide it from everyone but John, because she knew that others--especially Sam--were far more affected by the loss, and because she wanted to be the strong one there for her family. Included in that extended family was Claire. Claire, who just kept losing people from her father to her friends to her grandmother and brother. It was so much for the young woman to have to deal with, and there was nothing Mary could do to fix it. She could try to spoil Claire, watch over Ben more than normal to give Dean the opportunity to spend time with her, but she couldn't wave a wand to fix this...and she didn't like that one bit. Ben seemed to be doing a fair amount to help matters. She was proud of him for cuddling up to Claire even though he normally wasn't one for mushy gushy things--just like his Daddy. She wasn't sure how she was supposed to react to him calling Dean during work and asking him to come home even though Claire had obviously intended to deal with this until he got home. Sometimes, though, Mary knew you had to go against the wishes of others to give them what they needed. "Hi you two," she said quietly. She rested one hand on Claire's shoulder, then leaned in to kiss the back of Ben's head. If he was going to submit to displays of affection now, Mary was going to use it to her advantage to show Ben how proud she was of him for taking care of a friend. Looking up, Claire mustered a small smile for the other woman in greeting. The last few days had been difficult, at times almost impossible, but despite being lost in her own grief, she had appreciated what others had been willing to do for her, from Dean staying here with her almost the whole time to Mary stopping by to either be here when Dean couldn't or just bring over meals for them to supplant whatever take out Dean would get. Far from squirming away from the affection, Ben stayed still while Mary kissed the back of his head. Tough kid or not, having a grandma was a new experience and there were aspects he was still soaking up like a sponge. Right now, with everyone so bummed, with Ben missing Heather fiercely himself, this was one of those things. "Hi, Grandma." Clearing her throat, Claire shifted to see Mary better. "Ben said Dean'll be here soon, if you need to get home," she said, offering Mary an out from fussing on her, so she could get back to John, Sam and Bobby. There was a part of Claire that rebelled at being how she was right now - listless and not wanting to even get out of her pyjamas, let alone keep on with her normal routine - but the grief was still too fresh, even if she wasn't crying as much. She felt dependent on people again, like she had when she'd been told about Noah's fate all those months ago, like she had after Alastair, but eventually she'd push through and need to stand on her own two feet again. It wasn't that time yet, however. "Hi, Ben." Mary said, pride clear in her tone. She smoothed his hair down where she had kissed, and only just resisted the urge to ruffle his hair. He was so much like Dean. So very much. Claire spoke, and Mary shook her head. Even if she knew that Dean would be ok with her leaving Claire alone for a few minutes--and she knew her son would never be ok with that until Claire was feeling more like herself--Mary wasn't going to leave her alone. She had become one of the people Mary considered one of her kids, and damned if Mary wasn't going to look after her. "I need to talk to him about something," Mary lied. She had nothing of pressing importance to talk to him about, but she knew making Claire think that they were all catering to her would just make the poor girl feel worse. Taking the lie as truth, whether because Mary was convincing or because Claire just wanted it to be, she nodded. She wasn't going to push anyone away right now, not when, for all she knew, she'd wake up tomorrow and find any one of them gone. She didn't want them all rearranging their lives to spend time with her, but as long as they were, she was going to cling greedily to the reassurances found in being able to see and hear them. "Okay," she said, unconsciously holding Ben a bit tighter, as though to keep him there and not sent back. Mary stood there a minute more, eyes going between Claire and Ben, and then she turned hastily. If she stayed in the room much longer, she knew that she would go crazy thinking of the what ifs, how she would deal if one of them got sent back, what she might do if-- "Pepper!" She called out, picking up the little Pomeranian and heading to the door. "I'm going to take this little one out for a walk, I'll be right back." Mary didn't look behind her to see how Ben and Claire were doing, because she knew they'd be fine for a few moments, and she also knew if she didn't get out quickly she'd break down...and that wasn't what either of them needed right now. Closing the door behind her, Mary fastened a leash on the dog and walked him around the front yard. Slowly, thanks to the warm sunshine and the playful antics of the dog, Mary regained control once again, and by the time she heard the familiar rumble of the Impala as it pulled into the driveway, she felt like herself again. "How is she?" Dean all but jumped out of the car the moment that it was parked. He was worried about Claire, because he knew she wasn't ok if Ben was worried enough to call him. Ben was a pretty observant kid, but he was just a kid, and if Ben was picking up on Claire's 'not ok' vibes, she wasn't good. "She'll be fine," Mary soothed, going to hug her son both because it was good to see him, and because she wanted to slow him down. She knew Claire didn't like people fussing over her, and the last thing she needed was Dean coming in all worried and a mess. "It's just a lot for her to handle right now." "I know." Dean whispered, his voice rough, and he did. He knew what it was like to lose his whole family from his mother to his Dad to his brother and to be left not knowing what the hell he was supposed to do without them. The last thing he wanted to think about was that, about Claire making deals. Mary hugged him tight, almost hearing the worrisome thoughts going through his head. "It's going to be fine..." she soothed him with the same tone she used to use on him when he was a baby. "It's going to be just fine.." With one last squeeze she released him. "Come on, let's go in." While Mary went to scoop Pepper up, Dean went inside. "Hey, Ben, there might be a few pizzas in the back of the car. Wanna check it out?" He wanted to have a few alone moments with Claire. If things didn't go well, he knew his Mom would steer Ben away toward the kitchen or back outside, but if nothing else, the distraction of pizza would still give him a few minutes with Claire without Ben eeeewing whenever they kissed. "Sweet!" Given that his Dad was here now to handle the 'hugging Claire' part of things, Ben was all too happy to be the one to get the pizza and stake his claim on the bed pieces. After squeezing Claire briefly he let go and ran out the door to the car. By now Claire could recognize the sound of the Impala before Dean turned it off in the driveway, as long as the house was mostly quiet, so she'd known he was there as soon as she heard it. Letting go of Ben a little reluctantly, she watched him tear out of the house and then turned to Dean. "Hi," she said, looking up at him with that same numb sort of expression she'd mostly been wearing all evening. Dean went to the couch, sitting close beside Claire and slinging an arm around her shoulders. "Hi." He said quietly. He wondered what to say for a moment, if he should chastise her for not calling him first, if he should ask the stupid question of if she was ok or what he could do to help. "You should have let me come home earlier." He said quietly, not even realizing that he had called her place 'home.' It wasn't really that he thought of Claire's small house as 'home.' Instead, Dean made his home where the people he cared about were, whether it was a hotel or an apartment or even the big house where his family was AND the little house Claire had made her own. With a sigh, Claire leaned into him, liking the sound of hearing him say 'home', as though it was where she was. "Ben told you." It was said matter-of-factly and without rancor, as she should have guessed that he would tell Dean not only why he needed to come home, but all the reasons behind the why. She hadn't let on earlier that more people had gone missing, as she knew it would have brought Dean straight back, and instead just told him she was far from alone with Nathan, Mary and Ben there so he could put in the few hours at work without a problem. She wouldn't have changed that, either, as it wasn't technically lying - she had been 'as okay as I can be' earlier as she'd said - and she didn't want him not seeing to any of his responsibilities because of her. Dean nodded. He was proud of his son for ratting Claire out. It was one of those situations Dean had told Ben about when it came to following the rules and not following the rules. While normally it wasn't nice to tattle on your friend, when it was clearly in their best interests to do so, Dean was more than ok with it. "You should have told me." He said, pulling her closer. "I want to be here when this kind of stuff goes down." Truth be told, Dean just wanted to be there with her period. That was the thing about disappearances, especially when they hit close to home. It made you think about things differently, about how you could very easily be the next person to go, or someone you cared about. It was a thought Claire had been having more than was healthy lately, and feeling it only made her feel pulled in all directions. She couldn't be with everyone she cared about, everywhere they lived and worked, all of the time, which meant more of them could keep disappearing. She was losing people all over again, some of them the same people she'd lost the first time, and she didn't know what to do, beyond just grieve for her father. Even if there was a Noah Bennet in ten other timelines, even though there was one in 2006 in Texas, it didn't change her father had been murdered in her own timeline. "It's not that I didn't want you here, I just don't want you thinking you have to drop everything just to be my freaking tissue," she said as she tucked her face closer to his throat, tugging on his shirt for emphasis. She'd lost count of how many shirts of his she'd gotten all wet in the last few days when the quiet turned back to tears. It was good he dressed in layers, that was for certain. "I like being your freaking tissue." Dean said teasingly, adjusting them a little bit so that she was more comfortably against him. He pressed a kiss against her forehead. Truth be told, he didn't mind being cried on, because the more that Claire got out the less she had all bottled up inside and ready to explode. Truth be told, Dean was a little surprised she still had anything left to cry. "It's part of the fine print in the boyfriend contract somewhere, and it's what I signed up for." Before he came to LA, Dean never would have known what to do when faced with a crying woman other than to awkwardly pat her back and try to kill whatever evil bastard had made her cry. Now he was still no closer to knowing what women in general wanted when they were crying, but he knew Claire in particular enough to know a little bit about what helped and what didn't. If he could make her laugh, or even come close to smiling, that would help. Being with her helped... It was a start. Distraction was what Claire needed right now, to focus the topmost thoughts in her head on something that wasn't losing people. "Figures Nathan would have a contract for stuff like that," she said. She wasn't yet smiling or laughing, as she was holding the numbness to her like a shield, protection against the pain and anger because she was tired of giving over to the emotions that came with feeling like part of her world had been cruelly shattered. It wasn't just the good emotions and actions that could be let through, after all, which was the danger of feeling. "What else was in the fine print?" she asked, trying because he was trying for her, "I'm really surprised you even read those parts." Dean knew she was trying, so he tried harder too. Somehow between the two of them they had to make this work, to get through this. "Lots of stuff, but there's a confidentiality agreement in there somewhere buried under all of your father's lawyer mumbo jumbo." He shrugged, pulling Claire closer. Even if Nathan had made him sign a real contract, Dean would likely have done it. Claire meant a hell of a lot to him, so much so that he didn't know what he would do if she was the next person to disappear. That thought made his grip on her tighten a good deal, though he didn't want to talk about it. Claire had enough to deal with to even think for a minute that they were going to be separated. Besides, Dean was worried enough about it for the both of them. "So even though it's about me, partly, you're not allowed to talk about it with me? Geez." While Dean might not have intended to say anything about the thoughts motivating his grip tightening on her, Claire could clearly read the action anyhow because she'd been doing the same thing lately. The fact he was worrying about it bothered her more than her own fears because she knew that if anyone here could understand what it was to lose everyone, get them all back and then fear losing them again, it would be Dean. I don't want to go. The fear, however, was that if people without duplicates who had important connections here could disappear, then what was protecting her or her sister from being the 'Claire' eliminated? Dean held her for a long, long moment, his eyes closed as he tried to offer her what comfort he could. Eventually, though, sitting in one position for too long made his legs get numb, so he swung them to rest his feet on the coffee table. The motion jarred the laptop on the table, and drew Dean's attention to it for the first time. It took only a glance to see what Claire had been looking at, and Dean cursed, leaning in to shut the computer before he did something more drastic. "You're not thinking about that, are you?" Dean wasn't the only one who cursed, but Claire's cursing was silent as she gave the laptop a look, as though it was the fault of an inanimate object for being left open on incriminating pages, rather than her own fault. "I was just reading- I only-" She slumped, realizing not only that she couldn't just lie her way past it, she didn't really want to, even knowing what a hot button issue this was for him. She'd rather be honest and fight then lie and pretend she hadn't been reading it for any reason. "I don't know." Dean sighed heavily. Though the thing offering to make her a deal back then was long gone, there was still the chance that something new would come along with the will and the means to make deals, and the thought that Claire was even considering such a thing made Dean nervous. What if the next thing that came along only wanted Claire, not her family? Dean knew she'd never put her wishes over the well being of the city, or of her family or friends, but what if something came along that wanted her and her abilities instead of an even trade? "I'm not going to lose you." Dean said, conviction of an almost frightening force clear in his voice. If she made a deal and got sent to hell for it, Dean would be marching right in there after her. He wasn't going to let her do something stupid. And there it was, yet another reminder of the reasons why Claire was less able to make deals than before, because doing so would hurt others, others she deeply loved. Even though she wanted a way to save Noah, she also couldn't irrevocably hurt others in the process. "You're not, I couldn't do that to you," she said, knowing it for the utter truth, even as saying it brought her pain with the realization of its weight. She was putting his happiness above her dad's life. Did that make her a good person or a bad person? Did that mean she was saying Dean was more important than her dad? It was the same arguments as before, worrying that she'd made Peter's role to the city matter more than her dad's life, that she'd made innocent strangers lives more important than Noah Bennet's. She was tearing up again before she even realized she'd started. Dean knew he should have felt guilty that Claire was resisting making a deal just for his sake, but all he felt was relief. Sometimes he felt that Claire's physical well being was the most important thing, even if it came at the cost to how she felt about him. He had locked her in a closet once to keep her alive, knowing that he would suffer the fall out later when his best friend got justifiably angry...but he still considered it worth it to see her alive and well. But seeing her this miserable hurt. He knew he couldn't let her make a deal, but seeing her this sad made him think things he knew were bad ideas, about researching things like resurrecting the dead. He KNEW better, and he wasn't going to do it, but damned if the thought wasn't tempting. He wouldn't let himself give in, though. He couldn't. Too much was on the line to risk going down that road. "Thank you." he said softly. "Claire, you know we don't have a choice here, right? I'd help you bring him back if I could, but there's nothing we can do that won't have a huge cost, and what they bring back here might be different....you know that." He paused, giving her a minute to digest his words before going on. "We don't even know he's back there," Dean said firmly. She knew it all, and still it didn't do anything for Claire. Knowing she couldn't do anything didn't give her any sense of reprieve, it didn't keep her from being frustrated, angry and sad. And it wasn't the first time that Dean had made the latter argument in the last several days, this idea that Noah Bennet hadn't been sent back to death, but somewhere else, but all Claire could see in the argument was unfounded hope, a way to mentally stick a bandaid on it all and pretend. She couldn't. "We also don't know that he isn't," she said, pulling back and wiping at her face, "there's no proof that people get sent elsewhere." It was why with Angela and Lyle, it was easier, as they had places to go back to that, even if they forgot all of this, they would still have lives. Noah and Charlie were dead, Heather was back in Silent Hill and if she'd been memory wiped as several people had been, it likely meant the baby was no more, as they couldn't put her, pregnant, in the same spot in time she'd occupied in vanishing from her own world. Hanging on to unlikely what if hopes wouldn't make this better, it would only be a form of delusion. Dean would have taken delusion now over the truth that people they cared about a lot were gone, and likely in awful, life threatening or life ending situations. Dean had no delusions that if he disappeared here, he'd wind up dead again, and he accepted that, but accepting the same for family and friends was harder. "I know." he said quietly. "Claire I..." Dean himself wasn't sure what he had been about to say, but whatever they were, the words got twisted in his throat and cut him off. After he cleared his throat he started again, but what he said was different than what he had intended. "I promise, Claire, we'll find a way to stop this. We'll double, triple up on the protections until we find a way to keep our asses parked in this damned city. We'll stop it." Dean knew he couldn't bring anyone back to LA, but damned if he wasn't going to try to prevent more disappearances. Claire drew back entirely then, anger cracking through the numbness - and not anger at him, anger at the situation that made certain that Dean couldn't make promises to her like that and expect to be able to follow through. She didn't want those kinds of promises, knowing there was no way to stop it. "Don't, just don't make promises to me that you know you can't keep," she said, wrapping her arms around herself. "No one's been able to stop this. Peter can't time jump back and stop it without the PTB or the Senior Partners or whoever is behind this just doing it again, Sarah can't find their realities and bring them back, even though she's able to do it, people with magic or special abilities or whatever else can't undo what gets done to all of us." It was in Dean's nature to fight, but there were some fights that just couldn't be won. "You can't stop it, no one can," she said, rising from the couch. "Ruby can't ward against powers we can't even see, Bobby and your dad don't have wards and traps for beings that don't even have bodies, you don't have bullets that can kill them. They. Can't. Be. Stopped." There was a hysterical edge to her voice beginning to make itself known because it was one thing to cry because she knew, without saying, that there was no solution to this endless loss, but it was another to finally say it out loud. "People here, they let themselves think they can live a half-normal life, that they can meet people, make friends, build families, but anything they do that isn't for the right now will probably end up broken before they get to it. Look at Sam and Heather, they were having a baby together and now that baby probably doesn't even exist anymore! Peter and Sarah got married earlier than they were supposed to because they knew things don't last here. You can't have a normal anything here because there might not be a tomorrow." Now that she'd started, the words were just pouring out, the hurt that came from having left a world where she could never have a long-term anything, and coming here and, after nine months of living here, lulling herself into a sense of safety that there'd be a future for her in LA, only to face the fact that tomorrow she could well be the next one. "I'm tired of pretending that there's any kind of future here," she said, bowing her head over her folded arms. "There might not be any tomorrow for me or you or anyone else we know. We all keep living here like it's the normal way of doing things, not saying the things we should as soon as we feel them, not doing the things we want the moment we want to, but it's not. There's not time to screw around planning for weeks and months from now." When she'd opened her mouth, she hadn't intended for it to lead to any kind of personal revelation, she'd just gotten sick of bottling it up, but in laying it all out, she had touched on one point that losing Noah had driven home - if it wasn't said or done today, it might never get said or done. "So what's the alternative, Claire? Huh?" Dean too rose, going to pace around the room. When she was in his arms, he could keep the emotions down, he could make himself focus on her instead of how unfair it all was, but now that she was on the other side of the room with her head bent and looking so fragile and hurt, he couldn't be anything but angry. Not at her, but at this messed up life. What was the point of everything? Of coming back a second time to this? "Should we quit at the garage? Give up our houses and sit still every day waiting to get sent back? Maybe we should give up all of our stuff, stop trying to meet people and make friends too, since there's no point. Maybe I should just sit around waiting to keel over again and go back where I came from." Dean felt guilty for letting his sarcasm come out, but he couldn't help it. They all stood a lot to lose. Some of them came from perfectly good homes, like Ben, and some of them had come back from the dead or fates worse than death, but everyone had a lot invested in this place whether they wanted to admit it or not. He sighed, shame building more as the anger started to reside. It wasn't her fault that she was hurt and searching for answers that he couldn't provide. Going up behind Claire, Dean pressed a kiss to the back of her neck. "Maybe all we have is today, maybe not even all of today, but we can't start thinking like that. Some of us may go home tomorrow, and some of us may stay here until we're a hundred and two, and I don't know about you but I'd rather live here. I hate losing people...I do, but I just can't give up. I can't accept that we're helpless here. Sammy and I have solved cases before, seen things that were supposed to be nonexistant...so if the choice is between living the best I can here, trying to do all I can to protect the people I care about, or focusing on how we can lose all of this...I'm gonna try." But Dean was telling just part of the truth. Already he was thinking about losing other people, about his Dad and Mom dying all over, about Ben going back to being fatherless, about Sam being stuck alone on the road again, and Claire--Dean's jaw set in a hard line. He was going to find something to fix this...Claire might think it was impossible but he was going to do it or die trying. The hurting part of Claire was almost with Dean about what he started saying, focused on the not meeting people and making more friends - until he talked about waiting to go back to where he'd been. She twitched, even now wanting to deny it, because Castiel had pulled him from Hell before he'd come to LA, it had to mean Dean would be put back in his own reality alive, not in Hell, but didn't that just amount to the same level of denial she'd refused elsewhere, because she didn't know? God had never made any specific promises, other than that Dean could go where God chose when he died. When he kissed her neck, she leaned back into him, struggling with how to say everything next. She hadn't been advocating giving up and not living at all, she'd been more focused on not doing things as though there was a normal span of time. Doing those stupid dating dances, about keeping back feelings for fear of the reaction by other people, that's what people did when they had all the time in the world. Saving money to use for a rainy day, it's what people did when they knew there'd be a rainy day eventually to spend it on. People having kids, that's what people did when they thought they had futures. "That's not what I'm saying, not really," she said softly, still leaning back against him. "I'm not saying we should stop living, I'm just saying what's the point of doing the expected stuff, of living how we probably would if we weren't afraid we'd be taken away, doing what people want us to do, instead of what we want to do, waiting the 'right' amount of time for things when we might not ever reach 'right'?" She had to live in today, to stop putting things off until later, to stop editing herself because it might not be the right time to do or say something. Did it matter in the end what people thought, as long as she was honest with herself? Honesty had been worth the risk before, it had to be worth it now. "I didn't say all the things I should have to all of them and now they're gone," she said, finally turning to face him, moving her arms from around her to place her hands on his upper arms. "I don't want to get sent back there, remember everything here, and regret that I didn't do or say something I should have. I don't want sent back at all," and though her voice cracked, she continued, "but I need to know that if me or other people are sent back with memories, those people know how I feel, that I'll know I at least said and did all I could." She slid her hands upward then, pausing briefly on his shoulders before finally coming to rest on his neck, near his jaw, almost cupping his face. "I can't wait for the right time to say this, for you to be ready to hear it, for it to be the 'right' length of time from when we started this so people don't think we're rushing things," she said softly, brushing her forehead agaisnt his chin before looking up at him, "because that right time might be the day after either of us gets sent back. I'm not asking anything from you, all I want is to know that you know." She turned one hand then, stroking his cheek with the back of her fingers, knowing the whole thing was a 'chick flick' moment if there ever could be one, but not letting that stop her. "I'm in love with you, Dean," she whispered, only barely fighting the urge to dip her head, to cover the admission with a small attempt to hide, "I don't know when it happened, I don't know when loving you changed to being in love with you, it just did. I tried to deny it because that wasn't supposed to be us having a serious relationship, falling in love, doing all of that, but it happened and I'm not going to deny it anymore because we might not be here later when it's more 'right'." Then she kissed him, because even in needing to tell him, even feeling that it was the only thing she could do, it was still her heart she was laying bare, and she wasn't ready for him to feel he had to say it back if he didn't feel it. It was enough that she'd finally been honest with herself and with him. It was a chick flick moment if ever there was one. It felt like the end of the world in a way, like they were living on a moment by moment basis...and maybe they were. He listened to her, taking everything in, and as much as he hated it, she was right. Maybe none of them had tomorrow. Even in regular lives, nothing was guaranteed, but there was something much more cruel about this place that made that horrible truth that much more apparent. And then she said it. In some way, Dean knew what she was leading up to, but hearing her actually say 'I'm in love with you,' made something click. It was no secret that Dean and Claire loved each other, and it wasn't something that was new because of their sleeping arrangements. He had loved her since they became best friends. Though he wasn't one to say it, Dean did love her a good deal. He loved her enough to risk everything to protect her, to spend every spare moment for weeks pouring time, money and hard work into a car he had no personal attachment to. He loved her enough to show it in every way possible, from managing the difficult balancing act of a child and a girlfriend to being there on the bad days as well as the good...and this was one of them. And it wasn't, he realized, just a matter of love, but of being in love with her. Before Dean had a chance to really process that information, or respond to Claire's admission, she kissed him. Eager as ever to return her kisses, Dean once again showed her how he felt with the kiss, his arm snaking around her waist to hold her tight even as his lips claimed hers. Before he lost his nerve, before the feeling of living on borrowed time faded, Dean broke away from the kiss, moving his lips instead directly below her ear, and kissed her. "I'm in love with you too, Bennet...I wouldn't have done half the things I've done if I wasn't." It might not ever be something that Dean dropped into casual sentences, and he might not be one for mushy valentines cards or big romantic gestures, but when it came to his feelings, Dean let his actions speak louder than words. All Claire really needed was that kiss as the response to what she'd said, because she had already learned over and over, especially back during the singing epidemic, that she had to pay attention to the things he did, not said. The things he did for her had spelled out his feelings before he said them, likely even before he understood them, especially if John and Mary cluing into everything was any indication, and she hadn't ever needed to hear him say 'I love you' before to know he did. But hearing him say this was a shock and thrill all its own. Said so quietly, Claire could half-believe she was imagining it, but the feel of his breath beneath her ear and the brush of his lips against her skin made it real. From there, there was only one small hurdle and it was one question - did he mean it, or was he just saying it to keep her from hurting? Even as she asked it, she knew it was the first. If it was a forced confession to protect her, he'd have said it with the same open, careless air that he used when lying to people. Him saying it like this, as though he was trying to conceal the words even more than she had with her whispering, lent a strange Dean-specific credibility to the words. Rather than draw enormous amounts of attention to it by being an utter girl about the whole thing, even if she had been able to muster the force and emotion to do it, Claire just slid her arms further around him and held on as tight as she could, lips pressed to his chest over his heart. Though he meant every word he had said, Dean appreciated Claire not being a total girl and squealing over the crucial "I love you." There would be time for that later, when Dean was more comfortable in saying it so that he could say it louder...for now though, there was only recovering, and preparing for the next day and any losses it might bring. He gave her an extra squeeze, savoring the feel of her lips over his heart, before he pulled away with a soft sigh. "C'mon. Ben's gonna eat all the pizza if we're not careful." He was hungry, though not starving, but he wanted to make sure that Claire ate. When she couldn't even get out of her pajamas, something happened to Dean that made him even more protective over her than normal, and right now he was going to make sure that she got a good meal--or rather, Dean's version of a good meal--before anything else happened. It was all he could do. Nodding, Claire pulled her shirt up and wiped at her face again, wanting any trace of the crying gone so it didn't upset Ben more, then leaned against Dean's side. Even now, after all this time, it never failed to make her feel important that this other side of Dean was partially hers. Some of his overprotectiveness had lead to them having huge fights, but things like this, taking care of her, she could only love him more for. "He probably already has, you should have hidden at least one," she said, turning her gaze toward the back of the house, where the doors led out onto the back porch. Dean smirked and pulled the keys out of his back pocket, jangling them teasingly. Ben had no way to search the trunk for food. "Your favorite's hidden in the trunk, I figured we could split it if the bottomless pit that's my son has plowed through the rest already." He wrapped one arm around her waist, the gesture feeling natural and nothing like the too couple-ish gesture that it could have easily been. They just fit together very naturally, and it felt right. Dean led the way out of the house, thankful that, for the moment, Claire seemed a little better even though they had no more answers now than they did before. |