Supernatural: Next Generation

( Takes place in 1x13.1, as Claire and Jesse comfort Ben )

( Cut from 1x13.1, when Ben comes back from his stakeout )

- THEN -

NOW

Figuring the best course of action would be picking up the Fed role before the actual Feds showed up, Claire went for the well cut, charcoal slacks and blazer. Then she remembered how she’d practically melted in the heat of the morning on her jog, and left the blazer back at the hotel. Thankfully the cream sleeveless undershirt was silk, and professional enough to get beyond the suspicions of small town school faculty. She and Jesse sat in the air conditioned office of Principal Harold Bronson, who she noticed had eye-balled her badge a lot closer than he had Jesse’s.

Her first instinct screamed ‘distrust of female authority’. It wasn’t long before he proved her right. He still hadn’t looked her in the eye.

“We’re going to need a list of faculty names and how long they’ve been here before we leave,” she said curtly, but without much room for escape.

“Beg your pardon, ma’am,” Bronson replied. ( “I just don’ see how the FBI would be so interested in this so quickly when our own police force hasn’t released a statement yet.” )

***

Ben was having second thoughts about volunteering to go with Jacob.

It wasn’t because the man wasn’t prepared and played the role badly. If anything, the first family they spoke to seemed a lot more at ease speaking to Jacob than him given the fact that like attracted like. He fit the bill for a Southern boy, and Ben had a horrible time faking the accent so he held back, only speaking up when a particular question came to mind. What gave him reason for having second thoughts was the fact that the more time he spent with the man, the more Ben didn’t like him. He introduced Ben as being ‘new’ to the paper, being ‘inexperienced’ and that he needed to be ‘shown the ropes.’

It was obvious what kind of shit he was trying to pull, and it took all of Ben’s energy to keep his face relaxed and neutral; to smile sheepishly through the role and play it believably. The moment they were out through the doors and heading back to the car, however, Ben grabbed his shoulder and flipped him around.

( “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” )

***

Even though the lead was small, it was something, and so Jesse was in a good mood, despite even the hot drive back to the hotel. When he opened the door to see Ben coming out of the bathroom, his first instinct was to smile. Then his eyes fell on the small bloodstains on Ben’s half-undone white shirt, and the swelling around Ben’s eye.

“Shit, what happened?” he said, not even closing the door as he hurried forward.

Ben finished peeling off the shirt and moved to his bag, searching for the Tide pen or a can of club soda. He kept his face mostly pointed down the entire time.

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” he muttered.

“What? C’mon, man, what happened? Did one of the dads get pissed at you? Or was it one of the moms and that’s why you don’t wanna talk about it?” It wasn’t that hard to joke, since Ben clearly wasn’t in any danger, but that didn’t stop his stomach crunched with nerves. He took Ben’s shoulder, trying to turn him around, but Ben shrugged out of it hard.

“I said I don’t wanna talk about it,” he said sharply, not quite a snap but halfway there. Clearly whatever happened hadn’t happened that long ago for him to still be so on edge; he was still shaking.

Jesse frowned deeply, taking a step back. What could’ve happened? It wasn’t like Ben had been alone, he-- “Jacob. It was fucking Jacob,” Jesse said, his voice hardening. “Where is he?”

Ben sneered slightly, looking briefly vindicated. “Oh, he didn’t get away on top. No need to white knight me, man. It’s fine.” Ben found the Tide pen and took it, along with his shirt, toward the bathroom.

“Who ‘didn’t get away on top’?” Looking a mix of confused and concerned, Claire appeared at the hotel door, three fully loaded Southern Barbecue dinners in Styrofoam containers stacked in her hands. Ben’s shoulders immediately tensed, his stride widening before he disappeared into the bathroom. It was only a temporary solution to the problem, though; he couldn’t hide in there forever.

“Jacob attacked him,” Jesse said in disbelief, even as he moved forward to help with the dinners. “He’s all bloodied up.”

“What?! Why?” The alarm in her eyes sharpened with her voice, but for one reason or another, there was a lot less confusion there.

“He didn’t attack me,” Ben called out from the bathroom, anger coloring his voice. ( “Attacking implies surprise. I wasn’t surprised.” )

****

Heat mirage drifted from the street in front and behind Claire, and gave the impression that everything that touched the cracked asphalt sizzled and baked, even in the shade. The oppressive heat was a distraction from the uncomfortable buzz in her muscles, but she was starting to regret deciding to take the long loop without packing a bottle of water. She’d been out for an hour, the dark green jogging shorts and black sports bra streaked with what perspiration wasn’t already clinging to her skin. Even doubled in a pony tail high away from her neck, Claire’s hair was damp and clung to anything it touched.

Climbing the tree-lined hill toward the hotel felt like a home-stretch, and though much of the tension she’d meant to purge was still there, the anticipation of air conditioning and another shower - this one, cold - flooded her burning veins with relief. Until she saw the green Caddy come into view from behind a shoddy SUV in the parking lot, and movement at it’s side.

Jacob clicked the auto-lock button on the car, which gave a muted beep as he came around the front of it. Pausing long enough to find his hotel key, he started trudging down the walkway toward it, oblivious to Claire’s presence. Claire just ambled there for a moment, for the second time that day pulled between decisions.

In the end, she decided to try and end the fuckery all together.

“You just couldn’t let it go, could you.” She stood behind him, out of swinging distance--tight as everyone was wound, sneaking up on someone she knew as dangerous would’ve been a stupid move. Another stupid move--seemed the area was ripe with them that day.

Jacob froze midstep, every visible muscle pulled tense before he finally relaxed and turned to look at her. Three very prominent bruises spread along his face, but the thing that drew immediate attention was the bandage along his swollen nose. He frowned a little at her, then shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly.

( “He was lookin’ fer a fight. I gave ‘im one.” )

****

Like the summer-showers they woke up to the following morning, drop by drop Claire’s frustration with this job was filling. Nothing came from another several hours of pouring over Jacob’s notes, and anything resembling a lead or hunch proved to be a path to nowhere. To top it off, at five thirty in the morning, the police scanner set up on the hotel table woke them up to another kid missing.

The atmosphere at the school was as heavy as the air, at least with the faculty. Claire and Jesse were on the receiving end of several concerned and worried looks; even a couple that were suspicious and accusing. Not that she blamed them--she was used to that kind of reception, but Claire’s nerves were wearing thin. She could feel the strain sharpen her looks to the music teacher seated in front of them in the empty teacher’s lounge, which was why she’d let Jesse take most of the direction of their interview so far.

Claire just leaned on the heavy table nearby, watching the last thread of a lead they had over the brim of her coffee; her eyes trained on any involuntary twitch or slip of the tongue that might give them more of a foothold.

It was Jesse who was getting more antsy as the interview went on, though. His questions were also getting more pointed. “You say a couple students were in your class. Did you ever notice them hanging out with any of the other missing students?”

“Sir, music is a mandatory class for the younger children,” the young teacher responded, fiddling with her bracelet for what must have been the hundredth time. “And we only meet once a week per grade until the older children choose it as an elective. I wouldn’t know who they spent time with outside of class.”

Jesse’s face pinched in a scowl. ( “Did you notice anything unusual going on with any of the students? Had they mentioned strange occurrences or people in town?” )

****

With interviews being out of the question due to his colorful battle scars, Ben eagerly jumped at the chance to get out from behind the computer research and library duty when they’d discussed raiding the teacher’s house. Seeing as it was a school day they had plenty of time to work, and when they arrived at the correct address he couldn’t help be glad for that little fact; her house was surprisingly large. No doubt she inherited it or something, all the houses here are family homesteads, Ben mused, driving them down a few blocks before parking and killing the engine.

“God, I hope she lives here by herself,” he muttered, pocketing the keys and double-checking his lock pick set.

“She goes by ‘Miss.’ I’m betting the only thing we might have to worry about is spinster roommates,” Jesse said wryly. “If you’re really worried, though, I can pop in alone, like I said before.”

It wasn’t the first time since they’d started hunting together that Jesse offered to be the human wall and while Ben knew he could heal or zip out quickly, he didn’t like the idea of them being separate. He also couldn’t help feel a twinge of bitterness that it seemed okay for Jesse to go into a situation alone but the moment Ben offered to do the same, both Jesse and Claire gave him shit for it.

“Let’s just do it the old fashioned way, shall we?” he replied. When they got up to the door he knocked swiftly.

Back to the door, Jesse kept a casual lookout as, after there was no answer, Ben set to work. It wasn’t long and soon they were walking into the musty old house. “Yeesh. Looks like someone vomited lace in here.”

Ben looked around from the foyer thoughtfully, then added. “Wow, she doesn’t own a hundred cats. Color me surprised.” His eyes trailed along the staircase leading up to the second floor, which was lined with framed photographs. ( “I’ll take upstairs, you take ground floor?” )

****

“Chackbay, Raleighville, Green Ridge, New Lennox,” Claire listed off tiny one-horse towns on the map she had spread on the hotel wall, each one in their turn and their own little red thumbtack, having no visible pattern besides being relatively close to the East coast. “Dawson, German Town, and about fourteen more that I haven’t put up yet--all of’em with ten missing kids over the course of a week. No one ever found.”

“Why the fuck haven’t the police made this connection? That many kids gone, you’d think someone would have pulled their thumbs out of their asses,” Jesse said, scowling as his eyes went over the map.

Ben frowned slightly, feeling a sinking feeling in his gut. “You’d be surprised how many mispers happen every day. It’s not something so out of the ordinary that they would notice and with the way they’re spread out?” Ben trailed his forefinger along the tacks. “It’s like looking for a needle in a stack of needles.”

“And they’re especially not looking for patterns that skip every twenty-five years.” Claire pushed the last of the pins in place and stood back from the board, her hands on her hips. She was glad to have at least something more solid as a lead--however, the idea of how old this thing was congealed the feeling as a brick in her stomach. “All the way back to before this was a country. Probably longer, if it came from somewhere else.”

“S’very possible it was brought over with the colonists,” Jacob said quietly, his laptop open in his lap and already starting research. “Betcha it would be inna ship’s log somewhere, if we can find the earliest township with this same pattern.”

“Maybe, but I doubt it,” Claire injected, pausing for a sip of water. “Unless it’s big enough to be considered cargo, whoever--or whatever--it is would’ve kept it close.”

Ben chewed his lips in thought, trying to think of any other way that it might come to someone’s attention, even briefly. “Well... if it is a cursed object,” he said slowly, “And a possibility that it came over from across the pond, wouldn’t somethin’ like that show up in, like, an exposition for a witch burning?”

( “Only if the person using it had ever been found out.” )

***

About twenty minutes into tailing Allweather, Jesse realized he might have gotten the short end of the stick after all. That was when he texted Ben, and was told he was SOL and to keep his eyes on the target. An hour in he called. He managed to squeeze in five minutes of talk time before they told him to get back to it.

It was worse after it got dark. Jesse found himself spacing out and having to tell himself to watch. He wished he had coffee. One by one the lights went off in the house. Likely everyone going to sleep. He wondered how Jacob was doing with the teacher.

He was about to try calling Ben again when he saw movement at the side of the house. It was dark, but it looked like a figure pulling a tarp off of something. There was a gentle start of an engine and then a man on a moped pulled out of the drive, going right past Jesse. He had one guess who.

Quickly texting “on the move” to Ben, he started the car and followed Allweather, keeping his headlights off and staying well behind. Five seconds before he’d been knock-down bored but now his heart was hammering.

The phone beeped with an alert of an incoming text:

Keep on him. If anything happens, don’t hesitate.

‘Don’t hesitate’ to what? Jesse wanted to ask, but he tucked the phone in his pocket, eyes on Allweather.

The road got twisty, and a couple times Jesse was afraid he might have lost him in the effort not to be seen, but he always managed to catch up and saw quite clearly when Allweather turned into the long drive of what looked like some old plantation house.

Parking the car on the road, Jesse waited until Allweather was inside before getting out of the car and following. He shot Ben another text: Big old house, middle of nowhere, he’s inside.

There was a pause, then Ben’s message jumped up on the little viewscreen: ( Thank you, Channel 4 News. What are you waiting for? )

It’d been a day and a half since they left Vegas, but the landscape hadn’t really changed until they reached the Texas/Louisiana border. Desert gave way to thicker and thicker trees, and a humidity that wouldn’t quit. The GTO, unfortunately, wasn’t built for air conditioning, and Claire was reminded of a few times she’d been below the Bible Belt on the edge of an oppressive summer. Also looming like the hot bayou air was the prospect of what was probably going to be a tense job, alongside someone she hadn’t seen in years--and wasn’t sure how she would react to actually seeing him.

Needless to say, they were all a bit uncomfortable.

Claire pulled the car into the first gas station after the ‘Welcome to Chackbay’ sign, where she and Jacob had agreed to meet via text after they crossed into the county. She killed the engine and nudged the squeaking door open, scuffing gravel and dust with her boots. Almost immediately, she became aware of the thick sheen of sweat that made her tank top and jeans cling uncomfortably. She swiped at her brow with the back of her hand, and swept the place with a sharp gaze.

Ben had kept mostly silent about their destination the entire drive, even at the hotel they’d stopped at, but it was obvious from his body language and the frown framing his face that he was unhappy. He knew Claire hadn’t meant to put him on edge with the ‘booty call’ comment back in Vegas, but it certainly had done the trick. He hadn’t even met the guy yet, but Ben knew he wasn’t going to like Jacob one bit. He could be the best damn hunter alive for all he cared; he’d been more-than-friends with Claire at least once in her past. Exes were never good news. He had half a mind to stay in the car, but it was too damn hot so he slid out and let it fall shut behind him, his eyes landing on Claire.

Grumbling, Jesse crawled over the bench seat and out Claire’s door. His shirt stuck uncomfortably to him. “Alright, the rest of this trip into the sauna, Ben gets to sit in back like the pet dog. I couldn’t feel the breeze worth shit back there.”

“I’ll see about getting an A/C installed,” Ben muttered, running the back of his hand across his forehead before foregoing the hell of a sticky shirt altogether by peeling it off.

Never one to ignore a bad idea, Jesse stripped his off as well, then threw it at Ben’s face. Ben made a disgruntled noise and yanked it off, balling it up to throw it back.

( “Jerk.” )

****

It was a relatively short drive to the neighboring town of Thibodaux, and once they passed the city sign Jacob took a left off the main road and directly into a parking lot. A brightly colored sign informed them that it was the Economy Inn, which was supposedly "Less Like A Hotel, More Like a Home."

They’d passed three other hotels along the way, most of which had pools. This one, however, did not.

Jacob pulled into a parking spot in front of what could only be his personal room before the brake lights went out, signaling his killing the engine.

Jesse was out of the car first. He didn’t care what the place looked like by this point; he was promised air conditioning. He was in the room on Jacob’s heels and froze in place as the cold air washed over him. Eyes closed in bliss, he spread his sweaty arms wide. Claire nearly ran into his back.

“Oh if this room was a person, I’d root it good,” Jess practically groaned.

“Classy. Now share.” Claire planted her palm on his lower back and put her weight into getting him to stumble on forward.

“I’m gonna go get us checked in,” Ben said from behind her, holding his hand out expectantly for the keys. Jacob pulled his sunglasses off and slid the left bar down the front of his shirt, leaving them to dangle there as he arched his eyebrows at the other man over Claire’s shoulder. Claire was watching Ben as well, the slightly baffled glint in her eye the only change from a neutral expression.

Still, she handed him the keys with a hand swung back from her hip. She hoped the look over her shoulder conveyed ‘don’t be long’ clear enough. He pocketed them easily and, without any warning, leaned in to give her a quick kiss.

“I’ll be quick.” Then he was gone.

Jesse watched it all with a half raised eyebrow before setting down on one of the beds. (  “So, how long have you and Claire known each other?” )

***

The fill-in did next to nothing, in all truth. Jacob really hadn’t come to much of a conclusion, which deeply annoyed Ben, but it proved how much he needed their help. There had been a connection in that all the children apparently attended the same elementary school, but that didn’t amount to much seeing as there was really only one elementary school that the Chackbay residentials shuttled to. They’d reached a dead-end, and the fact that night was already falling only made Ben feel more frustrated and useless. He sat with his laptop in his lap in a chair nearby the window, his face alight from the monitor as he worked.

“Alright--the Preston kid’s mom works for the Ma and Pop insurance place down on Main, and the Fairchild girl’s parents own the little grocery store. Two of us can hit them up tomorrow while the other two check out the school...” Claire lifted up on her toes to pin a picture of a mop-headed little boy on the web-map they’d tacked to the hotel wall. Jesse slid up behind her, helping push the pin in that extra bit. Claire smirked at him over her shoulder, but not unkindly.

Jesse returned the smile, but only briefly. It was probably the most depressing map they’d ever put up, full of smiling, missing little faces. “Think they’re...okay?” He couldn’t quite bring himself to say alive.

“Hope so,” she replied in the same tone; uncertain and cautious about putting her hopes into anything they didn’t know. She turned to face them both, hooking her thumbs in her pockets--her shoulders deflated. “We gotta do this quick and clean.” As if they didn’t know. For some reason, Claire felt like saying it might settle something unpleasant in her stomach.

( “I’ll work with Jacob.” )

***

For all the self-administered conditioning, strength training, and poise Claire had, retrieving three 20oz bottles of soda from the bottom of a vending machine while making sure three large bathroom towels didn’t fall to the dirt in the process required a few attempts. It was just barely past sundown, and it was still hot, and windless; the sort of atmosphere that clung like film, especially after walking out of the air conditioning. The added effort she put in bending over to get the drinks just seemed to exacerbate things. The tension back in the room didn’t help either.

“Need a hand, darlin’?” came a familiar voice over her shoulder.

Oh good. “I got it, thanks.” Claire forced the small flood of extra heat rising to her cheeks by telling herself it was just the angle, which she righted quickly. One arm pinned the three folded towels to her hip and held a soda, the other carried the remaining drinks, leaving nothing to take care of the hair sticking to her cheeks when she stood up and faced him. It would be her luck, that he’d catch her at that exact moment of awkwardness.

Jacob was leaning back against the side of the building, his lips curved in a relaxed smile and his head tilted just a bit to the side. A cigarette dangled between his thumb and forefinger.

“Momma needed a break from the boys, I take it?” he asked, his words light to prove he was only teasing her a little. Claire scoffed lightly, but took the teasing in stride. Still, she didn’t want to even chance a retort, knowing what conversational doors that may open.

So, Claire changed the subject. “Figured we’d tackle the school and two sets of parents tomorrow in pairs--sound good to you?”

Jacob nodded, bringing the cigarette up for a quick drag. He held it for three counts before releasing it in a slow, steady stream.

“Reckon yer not drivin’ shotgun with me then.” Claire tilted her head, studying his expression--which hadn’t changed. Her own settled into something that resembled fatigue, but only slightly. It seemed the tension wasn’t going to be completely one sided.

“Probably not, no.”

Jacob shrugged one shoulder nonchalantly, then smiled some. “Y’worried or somethin’? You’ve got that look about’cha.”

Claire shifted her weight from one foot to the other, sighing. Her eyes were cast somewhere in the darkening parking lot, or the black treeline behind it. “You knew me for three days, many years ago--what makes you think you know my ‘looks’.” Of course, that didn’t mean he wasn’t right. She sighed again, and met his eyes, almost apologetic. “It’s been a long year.”

Jacob pushed off the wall and took a step closer, then rested his free hand on her forearm. All the charm and suave was gone, replaced instead by quiet concern.

( ”If this is too much trouble, I can get back on th’wire t’morrow and see if Watt is freed up yet. I don’t wanna make yer life any harder’n it needs t’be, Claire.” )

***

Ben blinked at the screen as he reread the line again, feeling a little burst of adrenaline.

“Think I might’ve found something,” he called out. Jesse had left the door open again. “This article mentions an older brother to Leah Fairchild. His name’s Nathan.”

“He wasn’t taken with her? Too old?” Jesse called back, washing his hands.

“Apparently he was at a friend’s house,” Ben answered. He quickly put the computer on the side table and stood, going over to their work board and writing the name on the sticky note just beneath Leah’s picture.

“It’s a start, I guess.” Jesse came back in the room, not looking terribly enthused. “Don’t know how much we can get out of him, since he wasn’t there.”

Ben met his look somewhat grimly. “I wasn’t thinking an interview, exactly.”

Jesse’s expression sagged the moment it hit him. “You want to use him as bait?”

Alarm immediately rose in Ben’s eyes. “No! No, god, no,” he said rapidly. His jaw worked slightly. “Hell, never. Kids don’t deserve that kinda crap put on ‘em. But the way this normally goes, s’not often a sibling gets away unscathed.”

“So we just wait for the piper to come for him? Which is basically using him as bait and just not telling him about it,” Jesse said, his scowl deepening.

( Ben’s face fell. When he put it that way, it did sound pretty close to the same thing. )

****

Claire just looked at Jacob for a moment, caught somewhere between guilty and surprised. “Well to be fair, it didn’t exactly come up before, no.”

“So you’re not sleepin’ with Grumpy?” Jacob asked, brows arching a little higher. Claire’s jaw set a little and her eyes wandered off. This was going about as well as she anticipated.

“We’re dropping the subject now,” she said, already making her way down the walk toward the room. It was as good a solution as anything. Giving up certain details about who she cared about was off limits--Jacob should know that, and he should know why. On top of it, she certainly wasn’t going to say I’m sleeping with both of them--happy?

Jacob gave a little shrug in answer, smiling again. “Yes, ma’am,” he said after a moment.

Claire half-turned, still walking away, and putting absolutely no thought into the fact that she wasn’t going to be able to open the door without her hands. “And for good, right?”

Taking the silent cue, Jacob followed after her, hardly batting an eyelash at the intrusion into her personal space. “Yes, ma’am,” he murmured again, his hand reaching around her to twist the doorknob. Claire eyed him a little like a rattlesnake as he leaned in, but stood her ground out of a mix of pride and instinct.

The door opened smoothly before he pulled back. “Seeya in the mornin, darlin’,” he said in a slow, warm voice.

“Thank you,” she replied just this side of flatly, and tracked his movement away from the door before she went in, as if she were making sure he was actually leaving. When he was gone, she huffed a breath through her nose and made to toss the two sodas to Jesse and Ben, but saw only Jesse. Confusion and instinctive alarm washed over her face.

“Where is he?”

***

Claire’s phone was pressed to her ear a little harder than necessary as she paced the small walk-way of their hotel room, listening to the hollow ring on the other end. She was livid--or at least, told herself she was livid. In truth, the little El Nino brewing in her mind was a combination of anger, hurt, and legitimate worry, but it was a lot easier to concentrate on the anger part, especially how her evening seemed to be going.

“Pick the hell up,” she grumbled through her teeth and made a sharp turn by the door, heading back toward the counter for the fifth time. Watching her, Jesse decided he really didn’t want to sit awkwardly on the bed for this conversation. Without a word, he slid into the bathroom and closed the door behind him.

On the fourth ring Ben finally answered, his voice even: “What’s up?”

“What exactly do you think you’re doing?” she answered quick, and a bit sharper than anticipated. Claire regretted it, but moved on.

( “Jesse didn’t tell you?” )

****

Perhaps he’d been wrong about the siblings thing, or maybe it hadn’t gotten around to heading in the direction of the Fairchilds’ house, but at any rate Ben found the stake-out to be unsuccessful. He was exhausted by the time he finally pulled the GTO into the parking lot, the early dawn light just starting to brighten the sky. There was a long day ahead of them, and still so much to do.

I’ll sleep tonight, Ben decided as he climbed out of the car and shut the door, trudging toward their hotel room. Not like I haven’t pulled 48 hours before. Trying to be as quiet as possible, he slid the key into the lock and gave it a twist, then quietly opened the door.

Sitting at the small hotel table, Claire looked up briefly from the cheap Styrofoam cup of coffee beneath her lips, but she said nothing. Her phone sat next to the open lap top in front of her, neither of which she was actually touching. She’d been there for roughly three hours.

His eyes closed, Jesse’s back tensed where he was still curled on the bed. He hadn’t been asleep since Claire got up, and even before then he’d only caught moments of sleep in short starts. But he hadn’t wanted Ben to realize he’d been worried, and he didn’t want to ask Claire if she was up just because she was (she always got up before he did) or because she was worried. Hearing Ben come through the door didn’t relieve the tension, though. If anything, his stomach clenched tighter.

Ben looked between the two of them where they were settled and somehow managed not to sigh. Wordlessly he moved toward the little kitchenette, finding the pot of coffee and pouring himself a cup.

“Ended up being a bust,” he murmured.

At least there’s that, Claire uttered in thought, but only nodded and downed the rest of her coffee. There were several reasons why she chose not to speak, all switching places as the most prominent in her mind; everything from Jesse being asleep to the avoidance of a heated conversation she could just sense coming, one that wouldn’t be worth it. Either way, after staring at the screen for so long and not finding what she was originally looking for, she felt like her skin was crawling. Despite the weight of fatigue, she felt like a firecracker stuck in a jar.

Ben took a deep pull from the cup before moving over to where she was sitting. He hesitated for only a moment before putting it down, his hands coming to rest on her shoulders lightly before moving into a gentle massage.

( “I’m sorry I was acting like a jerk.” )

TO BE CONTINUED...