InsaneJournal

Who: Stanton Parish, Claire Winchester, and an NPC local.
What: A first meeting and a surprising situation.
Where: Claire's video store.
When: Afternoon.
Rating: PG-13 for some violence.
Status: Complete.

Stanton really was terribly fascinated with Colligo and its inhabitants. He had not been there long, but it was plain to see that this world was far removed from his own. Alphas lived side by side with humans and all other manner of beings, able to be open about their abilities and treated as equals. It was all he had ever wanted for the world and never thought could truly come to pass. But it was the way of things here, and it brought him a measure of peace he had long believed lost to him. This place was not perfect, it had its flaws as any place did, but it was still a huge step in the right direction and he appreciated it more than he could say. Lee’s presence only added to that and he felt like, given time, they could come to and understanding.

He was curious about many of the people who lived in the city, but he knew he had time to work all that out. For now, he was simply enjoying the cool, clear autumn day, whistling to himself as he walked down the street with his hands in the pockets of his coat. He had no real destination in mind, but it was nice just to wander. Some might have been concerned about vampires or mummies or zombies, but he was mostly unbothered. He doubted even those creatures could truly harm him. He remembered seeing Lugosi’s Dracula when it premiered, and the play it had been based on. Somehow the vampire had been more impressive on the screen and stage. But it was no matter. Besides, in his understanding of the city, people always came back. Even if one of them managed to kill him in any lasting way, he would return eventually. So, in that sense, it wasn’t all that different from any other threat.

Glancing over at a small video shop, he smiled to himself. Thinking about the film had him wanting to watch it again, and he saw no reason not to indulge his desires. After all, he rarely had time to enjoy the little things. Stepping out of the cold and into the shop, he smiled at the sight of a familiar face. "Mrs. Winchester," he said warmly. "Or...I’m sorry, Claire. I remember you prefer that. What a pleasant surprise. I take it this is your shop?"

It wasn't often that Claire was actually found in her video store these days. Being the owner, with the business being as successful as it was, she could - and did - hire others to run the place while she simply took care of the paperwork from home. However, every so often, one of her employees wound up in a bind and, rather than make someone else work on their day off when they really didn't want to, Claire would volunteer to cover the shift herself. Which was precisely what she was doing today.

Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately considering all of the paperwork she needed to catch up on, it hadn't been a particularly busy afternoon. There had been the typical morning rush - mothers coming in to get videos for their children and elderly people stopping by to check out the best deals before others could take advantage of it - but for the most part it had been pretty uneventful. So when one of Colligo's newest arrivals, Stanton Parish, had made his way into the shop, he pretty much had her undivided attention. Well. Most of it, anyway. She still had her paperwork spread out on the counter in front of her and was right in the middle of going over last week's labor when the chime above the door had sounded and his warm greeting had followed.

Smiling as she looked up from what she'd been glancing over, she met the man's gaze and gave a tip of her head in response. "Guilty as charged," she replied lightly. She liked Stanton. She didn't really know him, at all, but he seemed nice enough. Sure, she could've found out far more about him if she'd bothered to watch the DVDs of his reality that she had stored away inside of her vault, but Claire really considered that to be cheating. Besides. A fictional retelling of events, no matter how accurate they might seem, was always biased because it was always from a specific point of view. She, personally, preferred to make up her own mind about someone and didn't see why it should be any different with the man standing before her now.

So the DVDs had remained in the vault, untouched, and now Claire had an opportunity to satiate her curiosity without having to go anywhere near them. Really, she thought, it must be her lucky day.

"What brings you in?" she asked after a second, neatly stacking her paperwork and placing it to the side. Something told her he probably wasn't there to window shop. No, he definitely struck her as the type who knew what he wanted and was going to do what he could to get it.

Stanton would have been pleasantly surprised if he had know that videos existed of his reality and that Claire had chosen not to view them in favor of forming her own opinion of him. It was refreshing, considering how people were often so quick to jump to conclusions regarding his character and his motives. Any fictional representation of their lives would surely paint Lee’s band of charming misfits as heroes and himself as a villain, when he knew it was not nearly so simple as that. Neither of them were solely right or wrong. Life was a spectrum of grey, and he felt Lee understood that as much as him.

"Would you believe that Asaph’s seasonal celebration has left me nostalgic for old films?" he asked with a smile. "I apologize if you were hoping for something more interesting than that, but it really is all there is to it. I spotted your shop, thought about just how long it had been since I’d actually seen Dracula, and decided to pop in and see if it was available. It was just going to be a quick stop but, knowing this is your shop, I may have to stick around for a little while." He paused, shooting her a grin. "To save you from your boredom if nothing else. How are you doing, Claire?"

Laughing lightly at his admission that he was actually there to check on the availability of a video, Claire immediately turned and plucked one from the shelf behind her. "Well," she replied as she turned back to face him, the case in hand, "it looks like you're in luck, Stanton. We happen to have a copy of the classic Dracula left." Holding it out for him, she continued to smile as she answered, "And I'm doing pretty good, thanks for asking. My kids are..." She paused, head tilting a bit as though considering the best way to continue. "Still kids," she finally settled, figuring either he had children of his own, which meant he would understand what she meant by that, or he didn't and he would ask her to elaborate. Either way, she continued with, "But they managed to make it through the classic horror monsters remix live without getting bitten, eaten, or mauled, so I really can't complain."

Especially considering how her kids were. Which wasn't something she was going to point out. Some people were fine with the way her twins acted. Some, however, weren't, and if Stanton happened to be one of those who fell into the latter category, she really didn't want to know about it. Frankly, anyone who tried telling her how she should raise her children was automatically written off, in her book, and she liked Stanton so far. She'd hate to have to write him off over an opinion that was easily kept to himself as long as she didn't give him the opportunity in the first place.

Instead of elaborating, she added, "And you don't have to apologize. I'm just glad to see someone stopping in who isn't a local. There are a few of them who are regulars that I don't mind, but for the most part their conversation tends to be pretty lacking." She stopped then, as the chime above the door sounded and her attention went to the young man who had stepped inside. Speaking of locals, she thought as she offered him a smile. "Hey there. Welcome. If you have any questions, feel free to ask. Also, all action movies are rent one, get one free, right now." Then her attention went back to Stanton.

"So how has life in Colligo been treating you so far?" she asked curiously.

Stanton took the film from her with a grateful smile, checking the price and pulling out his wallet. He would have to find a means of employment soon, but his situation was by no means dire and he had no doubt he would manage in the interim. Besides, he already had a few ideas as to job opportunities. He just had to work out all the details. And details had always been his strong point. He listened to her speak, a thoughtful expression on his face, and he waited until she had finished her thought before speaking. With many people, he would have commented on the use of ‘good’ rather than ‘well’, but with Claire he found it oddly charming. She really did have a likable quality to her, one he rather appreciated.

Her comments about her children made him think wistfully of his own children, all dead and gone for a long time. His memories of them, though faded somewhat with time, were fond and he certainly understood where she was coming from. "Children are...wonderfully precocious creatures," he said after a moment. "They constantly keep us on our toes and see the world in a way we have often become incapable of with age. It’s one of their best qualities." He paused, giving the young woman a wry smile. "I know what an achievement it is that they made it through without any damage. If there’s one thing that exceeds the scope of a child’s imagination, it is their ability to find trouble. I can imagine that is magnified in a place like this. How old are your children, if you don’t mind my asking?" They couldn’t be that old, unless she had started quite young. She barely looked out of high school, though he supposed she could have been in her early twenties.

He nodded his head at her assessment of the locals, laying his payment on the counter as he did so. "I had noticed they were a bit...dull, in comparison to those brought here," he acknowledged. "It is interesting though, that Asaph persists in keeping his own creations when he has clearly found a better means of entertainment. One might think he would populate his little world with more like us instead, given his interest in those who are unique. It is...not a word I would apply to the local populace." He stopped as the young man came in, glad for the turn in the conversation. After all, it would be somewhat rude to disparage the locals in front of one.

"I’m settling in well," he said. "This place is...something of a breath of fresh air, if I’m being perfectly frank. I quite like it. There was...a lot of conflict back home. It is nice to have a break from it." Though the conflict was of his making, that did not mean he enjoyed it. It had been necessary, that was all.

It was only belatedly that Claire realized that she'd forgotten to tell him that non-locals didn't have to pay for their rentals. Casting a glance at the young man who had entered, who seemed content to simply mill about, wandering up and down the aisles while looking idly at the various titles, she looked back to Stanton. "Newcomer's special," she said brightly. "The first rental is free." With that being said, she pointedly ignored the money on the counter and instead answered his question about her children. If there was one thing she didn't mind talking about, as with most mothers, it was her kids.

"Jack and Meri are twins. They're ten. Gabi is ten months old. Emma is," she paused, "well, not exactly human. She's physically anywhere from sixteen to eighteen. She's only been alive for a few months, though." Claire didn't elaborate beyond that. Not right away. Instead she tacked on, "Ben isn't here, but he'd be twenty, and Jesse..." She paused. "Actually, I never really asked him exactly how old he was, when he suddenly grew up overnight." She offered Stanton a smile and laughed softly. "Sorry. I know I probably sound like a crazy person right now, but that's just the way Colligo works. Kids sometimes grow up, literally, overnight." And sometimes they came back from the dead. She didn't say that, though.

"I don't know if you were here when the Halloween festivities first started, but Jack and Meri were the ones fighting the monsters and announcing the whole thing to anyone with a PDA." She opened her mouth to say more, ready to elaborate a bit more on Colligo in a pointed way of changing the conversation, but another voice cut her off.

"Not to interrupt your chitchat, princess, but how about you open that register."

Claire froze, then slowly turned her attention to the young man who had wandered in a few minutes earlier. He was standing at the end of the nearest aisle, a gun in his hand and aimed directly at her. Hesitating for a second, slowly she arched an eyebrow before asking simply, yet very pointedly, "You're robbing me? Are you actually insane?"

Stanton got the sense that there wasn’t actually a Newcomer’s Special, that Claire was simply one of those individuals who did not charge non-locals, but he didn’t press the issue and simply put his money back in his wallet. He’d give her the one time special, but he fully intended on paying for his rentals in the future. He’d never been the sort of person to take handouts, and that was hardly going to change. Besides, a video rental was hardly going to put him in the poorhouse, and he liked Claire well enough that he wanted to support her business. Still, he wasn’t going to worry about that on this visit. He’d let her give him a free rental for now and think about that later.

When she spoke of her children, he had a moment of surprise before he remembered that children in this city often grew up overnight. If it hadn’t been for that, he might have thought she was like him. Still, he was surprised by just how many children he had. "Six children," he said after a moment. "I’m impressed that you manage to find any time for yourself. Especially as young as you are. I have to say, I don’t know how you and your husband manage it. My own children were...quite the handful." But it had been a rewarding experience, being a parent, even if it was a distant memory now.

He might have said more, but at that moment the other customer in the shop proceeded to pull a gun and demand the contents of the register in an incredibly rude manner. Stanton sighed at the crassness of the situation. His disdain for firearms in his confrontation with Lee had not been an affectation. Though they had their use in the conflict between humans and alphas, he had seen enough of them in the many wars he’d fought over the decades. Still, he was hardly surprised to see something like this. Humanity was, on the whole, quite petty. It was really unfortunate.

Claire’s reaction, however, surprised him. This was hardly the best part of town, but her blasé reaction to someone robbing her was unexpected. Still, he didn’t feel comfortable with the idea of a gun pointed at a woman who had been nothing but kind to him since his arrival, even if she seemed unconcerned with the threat. Without any thought for his own safety, since a gun would do little to permanently harm him, he calmly inserted himself between the armed man and Claire. If the man wished to shoot her, he would have to do so over Stanton’s temporarily dead body.

"Now, young man," he said calmly, "why don’t you put that down, before someone gets hurt. We don’t need any violence here."

What was he doing? Claire, who kept the gun Dean had given her under the counter just in case something like this ever happened, paused mid-reach and slowly slid her hand back in front of her as her eyes went wide as Stanton's calm insertion between her and the attempted robber. Well. There went any chance of her shooting the idiot first. In order to do so, she'd have to shoot Stanton and she really wasn't all that keen on shooting a guy who was, she assumed at least, only trying to help. Even if she was quite possibly the last person in Colligo who needed help when facing a firearm.

Before she, too, could speak up to try and dissuade the local, the guy was already responding by cocking the hammer back on his handgun and leveling it at Stanton. "Don't think I won't shoot you, pops," he said flatly. Then his gaze flickered briefly to Claire, waving the gun about a bit as he grew agitated at her lack of cooperation. "What did I say, bitch? Get that register open. Now!"

Claire's jaw tightened a bit at his words but she managed to keep her calm for the moment. "Relax," she said simply. "Seriously. There's no need to-"

Before she could get any further, there was a loud pop and blood splattered across her face and all over the counter. In horror, Claire realized that it was Stanton's blood. The bastard had shot him. For a few seconds, everything seemed to become slow motion. She saw Stanton drop, saw the local stare at him with a flicker of regret, before he turned his gun back onto her. Instantly Claire's own gun was in her hand and she was taking aim at the robber in return. "And that," she bit out angrily, "was a bad move on your part." Then she dropped her aim from his chest to his gut and pulled the trigger.

As soon as the guy had collapsed, Claire moved toward him and kicked the gun he'd dropped out of the way. Assured he wasn't going anywhere until she could get the cops to the scene, she next turned her attention to Stanton. "You-" She trailed off as dropped to his side, setting her own gun down as she hesitated. What was she supposed to do? Did he have enough time to wait for an ambulance? Should she just fix him with her own blood and explain after the fact. Exhaling shakily, she said softly, "Just... hang in there. I'm going to grab my PDA. I'll be right back."

Rushing to the counter, Claire snatched up her PDA, as well as one of the syringe's she kept on hand in case they were ever needed. Then she made her way back to Stanton, tossing a glare at the local who was screeching about how he'd been shot. "Shut up or I swear to Emmy, I'll aim for your face next," she hissed before looking back to the man that, although totally unnecessarily, had just risked his own life in an attempt to save hers.

Stanton’s expression was calm as the robber addressed him, though his jaw tightened slightly as the man insisted on calling Claire a bitch. He was about to say something when a shot rang out and a sharp pain spread through his chest. He was not unfamiliar with being shot, but he hadn’t quite expected the young man to actually pull the trigger. He frowned at the blood staining his shirt, he rather liked that one, even as he collapsed against the counter. He hated chest wounds almost as much as he hated gut wounds, disliking the latter more if only because they took a greater deal of effort to heal properly, since he had to worry about not only the damage but the stomach acid that infected the blood.

He was dimly aware of Claire shooting the man, another surprise as he hadn’t expected the young woman to act quite so decisively or in a violent manner - though he could hardly blame her for defending herself. And then the man who had shot him was on the ground though not dead, a testament to Claire’s self-restraint, and Claire was in front of him. He could tell she was concerned, debating the merits of ambulances, and he reached to take hold of her hand, once she returned from grabbing her PDA, stopping her from actually using it. He wasn’t keen on explaining his ability to anyone, but he was even less keen on it becoming public knowledge. "I’ll be fine, Claire," he assured her, already feeling the wound begin to heal. "I just need a moment. This is hardly the first time I’ve been shot." He paused a moment, giving her a small smile. "That was in...the Battle of Old Fort Wayne, if I remember correctly. Just...give me a moment and I’ll be fine. I promise."

Of all of the things Claire had expected Stanton to say, of everything she could have possibly come up with - and that list was pretty long, considering the people she knew - what he actually said had not been anywhere even close to that list. Blinking dumbly for a few seconds, part of her brain still operating in slow motion after what had just happened, she finally realized exactly what he'd meant by that comment. She wasn't a history buff. Not even close. However she was pretty sure that there had not been a Battle of Old Fort Wayne in any war in recent memory. Which meant that Stanton was old. Very, very old, depending on when said battle he'd referenced actually took place.

Which meant he was like her.

The guilt she'd been feeling was certainly curbed a bit at that knowledge. So curbed, in fact, that she couldn't seem to help the slightly hysterical laugh that bubbled forth as realization gave way to reality. "That's..." she stopped, gave another soft giggle, then finally managed to compose herself enough to speak in a coherent, laughter free manner. "That would have been awesome to know before you jumped in front of that bullet." She paused, debating on whether or not she should wait to offer up her own secret - even if her "secret" was possibly the worst kept one in all of Colligo - then finally decided to just do so. If nothing else, she figured it was the least she could do. Plus, if she spoke up now, instead of after the paramedics had arrived to deal with the robber, that offered a chance for Stanton to keep his ability private if he so chose.

"But you really didn't have to do that." Okay. Probably not the best, or even close to the clearest, way to express herself. Pausing to cast a glance at the robber, who had moaned a little under his breath but grew silent the second she looked his way, Claire turned back to Stanton. "I'm not exactly as young as I look, myself." Realizing how that might be taken the wrong way, she was quick to add on, "I'm not old enough to start naming battles from wars fought a long time ago, but that's only because I haven't managed to experience that many. Yet."

Of all the reactions Stanton had anticipated, laughter had not quite made the list. He wondered for a moment if he had shocked Claire terribly, if she was having a difficult time accepting what he had said or if she thought he was crazy. Both were distinct possibilities. Even with all the abilities present in this city, it had to be disconcerting to see someone heal from what could have easily been a mortal wound. Then she spoke, and he had to fight back an amazed laugh as he realized that she had the same ability as him, or something similar in any case. It was something he had never encountered before, and it took him a long moment to actually react. For over a hundred years he had believed himself to be alone, the sole alpha of his kind, and now he found that there was someone else who could understand him. It was overwhelming.

"I suppose I really didn’t have to do that then," he admitted after a moment, still amazed. "But I am glad that I did, nonetheless. I had no way of knowing about your ability, and I hardly could have stood by and allowed such a kind young woman to come to harm. Not when I knew full well that I would be fine." To be honest though, with as kind as Claire had been, even thinking she was human, he would have stepped in front of that gun regardless of his own ability. For all that some people thought him irredeemable, he wasn’t a bad person. He liked people, he did. And he wanted to help them. "So," he said after a moment, "how long have you known you were...like this."

For just about anyone else, the entire conversation taking place probably would have seemed far too surreal for words. For Claire, however, it wasn't all that different from things she'd dealt with before. Yes, it was a bit strange to be kneeling next to someone who was apparently similar enough to her that he was going to heal from a fatal gunshot wound at any given second. However, between Peter and Adam, and others she'd met along the way, it wasn't that big of a shock either. In fact, the only real surprise she was feeling was how long it was taking him to bounce back from the wound. Which wasn't much of a surprise as much as it was her realizing that, apparently, abilities in other realities didn't always work better than, or even as well as, her own did. In some cases, apparently, it was a bit slower going.

All that meant, however, was that she was going to be sitting beside him for a bit longer as she waited for his healing to kick in. In the meantime, she focused on what he was saying rather than the bullet wound in his gut. "I was fifteen," she admitted with a small smile. "That was twelve years ago, by my count." She would have asked 'and you' but she already had her answer. Whatever war had involved the battle he'd cited was probably about the time he'd figured out his ability. Which meant he was a hell of a lot older than she could claim to be. That was both refreshing and shocking, really.

Either way, though, she took it in stride and added with a sincere smile, "And even if you didn't have to do that, I still appreciate it." She paused, briefly, before adding, "Even if I wasn't that worried about either of us all that much, considering my blood could have healed you if it came to that." The comment was one offered up in passing. At no point did Claire realize that maybe, just maybe, things didn't work that way in his reality, or with his ability. In fact, she was so far removed from having realized as much, she didn't even really pause to let him respond before she was rolling her eyes at the robber complaining about blood loss and grudgingly reaching for her PDA.

"Stop your moaning," she admonished him. "I'm calling the cops already." She didn't, though. Not right away at least. Instead she looked to Stanton, arching an eyebrow as though asking him if he was all right with her contacting the authorities already. If he wasn't, if he needed more time to heal, she'd give it to him. She owed him that much, at the very least.

It might have been quicker if he hadn’t had the bullet in him, but his ability definitely didn’t work as quickly as hers. But then, hypercognition was very different from what she possessed. Because it had a variety of applications, rather than being focused completely on healing, it worked at a slower rate. Still, it worked quickly enough for him. And he was glad to have the opportunity to discuss it with her while he waited. When she explained that she had discovered her ability at fifteen, he was baffled, trying to imagine realizing his own immortality at such a young age. He didn’t think he could have coped with it, nor would he have wanted to be trapped so young for so long. His physical age suited him just fine. "It was the Battle of Old Fort Wayne, as I said before, when I first realized I was different," he said. "October of 1862. A hundred and fifty years ago, practically to the day."

When she mentioned that her blood could heal others, he raised an eyebrow. "Now," he said, "that isn’t something I can claim." Her ability really was astonishing. For so long, he had seen himself as the ultimate expression of alpha capability, so it was humbling to meet this young woman who was all he was and more. Still, she was young. Who was to say his own ability hadn’t evolved into hers through generations. Or perhaps the photic stimulator would have caused similar growth in his own ability if he’d ever chanced using it on himself. There was no way of really knowing. To be honest, he wasn’t worried about expanding his own ability. He’d lost a lot in his long life, and he was getting to be rather tired. "Still," he said, "I’m glad I could keep you from harm." His smile took a slightly teasing edge. "If nothing else, you look very lovely today, and I should hate to see that marred by blood and bullet holes.

At her silent question, he nodded his head and got to his feet. He should be fine now. "Would you like me to remain here?" he asked. "If you need me to give a statement I would be happy to, but perhaps I should change my shirt first." For all that he had openly discussed his ability with her, he wasn’t comfortable having it completely out in the open just yet. Still, if she needed him to stay, he would.

Despite the heaviness of the situation, Claire smiled at his comment about her looks. For all that she had matured and aged since her time in Colligo, she very much was still a young woman who appreciated a compliment when she received one. Especially when it seemed sincerely given.

As he rose to his feet, Claire did the same. "There are a couple of shirts in the vault. Third shelf on the left, two rows over from the Doctor Who episodes," she offered. Never mind that they were kept there in case someone showed up who really needed one, such as a homeless person or, on one rare occasion, someone from another reality whose world had been ripped apart by war and famine and who was in desperate need of a bath and a hot meal. While Stanton may not be quite as wanting as that man had been, Claire still figured his reason for needing a change of clothes was just as important. Especially considering he needed one only because he'd helped stop her from needing one instead.

"The combination is my anniversary. 10-31-10."

In retrospect, Claire realized that perhaps giving a man she barely knew unfettered access to the one place in all of her shop that very few ventured without her keeping a close eye on them wasn't exactly the smartest idea she'd ever had. However, in the moment, she'd been far too concerned with making sure the robber she'd shot didn't crawl away while no one was watching to really concern herself with what the man who'd taken a bullet for her might find useful in a room filled to bursting with information about the majority of everyone in the city. So rather than offering a warning, or volunteering to escort him, Claire instead busied herself with considering whether to count the police to alert them to the robber's condition, wondering if she should also be preparing herself to argue with the new Chief of Police about how she didn't deserve to be arrested for her part in dropping the punk, whether or not it would come to that. She hoped it didn't but, well, considering all that had happened so far, she wouldn't be surprised if that was just the final straw on the proverbial camel's back, as far as she was concerned.

Stanton smiled gratefully, glad that he would not have to face the police in a shirt that clearly showed he’d been shot - even if such a display might help make a case for self-defense on Claire’s part. He had spent a century and a half hiding his ability from humans. He saw no reason to come out of the proverbial closet now, at least not in any widespread manner. It wasn’t that he had any shame regarding what he saw as a natural part of him, but he didn’t trust the masses when it came to this. He’d seen too many times how people feared or exploited that which was different, and he had no desire to put himself in that position.

"Thank you," he said sincerely, heading in the direction Claire had indicated. It was clear this wasn’t something she offered lightly, and he wasn’t going to take advantage of the kindness. Opening the vault, he stayed only long enough to grab a shirt that seemed as though it would fit, changing into it quickly and making his way back out. Though he was curious about what someone would need to keep hidden in a video shop, he didn’t bother looking around. That was Claire’s business, and he respected her enough not to give in to his curiosity. If she wanted to explain, he had no doubt she would. Until such a time, there was no reason to give it too much thought.

Making sure the shirt was neat and his own shirt was disposed of, he returned to Claire and the incapacitated robber. "I promise that if the police make any effort to level assault charges, I will make a very persuasive argument for self-defense," he said. "The man did, after all, shoot me." Because he was perfectly willing to make his ability known for Claire’s sake. "Hopefully, though, they will have good sense enough not to bother with that though." Not that he had much faith in law enforcement. He never really had. People in positions of authority, particularly humans, never had much understanding of others who were different. Binghamton was a prime example of that.

By the time Stanton returned, Claire had made up her mind. She knew full well that Roy, at the very least, would want to know how Stanton had healed from a gunshot wound. And it didn't take a psychic to realize that Stanton would really rather not have anyone know just yet. So instead of calling the cops and complicating the situation further, she instead grabbed a syringe. She was just finishing filling it with her blood when he returned, looking much better than he had. Giving him a smile, she said simply, "I've decided to take a different route."

Moving to where the robber lay, still bleeding, she knelt beside him and, with a hard look, jabbed the needle into his thigh and pressed down on the plunger. He grunted a bit but made no move to stop her, although his eyes grew wide. A heartbeat passed, then two, then he suddenly sucked in a sharp intake of air and sat up very straight. Patting at his stomach, he raised his blood-coated shirt to reveal bloodstained, but wholly uninjured, skin. Eyes growing even wider, he looked back to Claire.

"It's your lucky day," she said simply as she stood. "If you go now, and you don't say a word to anyone, I won't have your ass arrested." She arched an eyebrow. "But if you go running your mouth and tell people about any of this, or if I ever even get wind that you even exist, I'm going to shoot you somewhere you'll really hope grows back and leave you for dead in the woods outside of the city. You got that?"

The guy was on his feet and out the door in record time. Claire looked to Stanton as the door swung shut, the ding of the bell echoing in the air. "I didn't see any reason to call the cops and complicate both our lives. I'm pretty sure I won't see him again and, just because my ability is just about the worst kept secret in all of Colligo, that doesn't mean it has to be the same for you," she gave by way of explanation.

To say that Stanton was stunned was an understatement. In all his years, he’d never had anyone find out about his ability and make a concerted effort to hide it. In fact, his experiences had always been in the opposite vein. He still felt betrayed even now by his experiences with Zachary, and he sometimes wondered if he was letting that incident cloud his judgment even to this day. But the fact remained that he had trusted someone with his secret and they had tried to use it to their benefit, against his wishes. Knowing that possibility, he found it hard to open up to anyone else.

But Claire understood. He wondered if it was a product of her own ability but, no matter her reason for doing it, she was respecting his wishes and he couldn’t thank her enough for that. It meant more than he could say to have someone so willing to protect his secrets. He felt a kinship with the young woman, the first person like him that he’d ever met. And she was so much more than he could ever hope to be. It meant more than he could possibly express to know that he wasn’t alone in the world.

When the robber left, he sighed and gave Claire a small smile. Though he wasn’t sure it was wise to let the man go, he also knew he could take care of him if he proved to be an issue. For now he simply focused on Claire. "Thank you," he said gently, his tone sincere. "You did not have to do that but, nevertheless, I am grateful. This place is...very different than I’m used to. But I’m not entirely ready for everyone to know about my ability. I’ve spent a very long time keeping it hidden, and I think it will take some time before I can say that I’m fine with people knowing." He pulled out his wallet again, laying the amount for the movie on the counter. "As much as I appreciate the offer of a discount," he said after a moment, "I think you’ve done enough for me. If nothing else, you can put it toward getting the blood stains off the floor."

Claire thought briefly about pointing out that none of the non-locals paid for their rentals, but she decided against it. There was something about the man - the way he carried himself, maybe, she wasn’t sure - that told her she would be fighting a losing battle if she even tried. So instead she picked up the money with a smile. “I’m sure I can find some good use for it,” she assured him, fully intending on simply adding it to the monthly donation she made to the Crisis Center. For the time being, though, she placed it in the register and looked back to Stanton.

“And you don’t have to thank me,” she said. “But, so you know, you also don’t have to worry about things like that, here. We don’t tolerate discrimination even a little. The few times it’s ever even popped up, it’s been dealt with pretty quickly.” She paused and grinned. “It also doesn’t hurt that one of my best friends is an Archangel who enjoys teaching idiots really colorful lessons,” she admitted. “So if you ever do run into any trouble, feel free to let me know and I’ll pass it on to Gabriel. He lives for stuff like that.” And chocolate. And sex. And there was absolutely nothing short of threatening to torture her children that would get Claire to mention either of those things to Stanton.

Stanton was glad that Claire didn’t debate the merits of him paying for his video. As much as he appreciated her generosity, she had already done more than enough for him. He had difficulty accepting help from others, independent after so long virtually on his own, and he had no particular desire to argue with her. "I’m sure you will," he agreed with a smile. "You seem like a sensible young woman." He honestly liked her, and would have even if she hadn’t been an alpha, and one with an ability so similar to his own. He respected some humans, Lee for instance, it was just a rare thing.

"I have noticed that people are...far more open to those things and people which are different here," he admitted. "It takes some getting used to. But it’s refreshing, to be honest. But be that as it may, I think it will be some time before I can be quite so open about it. I admire you though. You seem at peace with it in a way that took me a long time to manage." He laughed at her explanation about her friend the archangel. "I will certainly keep that in mind. Thank you again, Claire. You have given me a lot to think about. It really has been an absolutely pleasure meeting you."

"I have my friends and family to thank for that one," Claire replied instantly. In no way was she about to take credit for having found peace with her ability on her own. That hadn't happened and, she was pretty sure, would never have happened, really. But having others around her who accepted her for who she was, who had her back no matter what? It helped. Far more than most seemed to realize, even.

Smiling when Stanton began speaking as though he was about to leave, she simply responded with, "I'm glad I was able to help, Stanton. And if you ever want to talk or whatever, feel free to contact me." Then she turned her attention to the relatively small mess left behind from the robbery attempt on her store. She needed to clean it up if she wanted to avoid freaking out anyone else who might wander inside. But at least she had plenty to think about while she cleaned up. That was definitely new and different... and she was grateful for it.

"I’m glad that you have that kind of support," Stanton said gently, a small smile on his face. "Everyone should." He remembered his own family, how much he had loved them. They were all gone now, but that did not mean he didn’t care about them. Still, he wasn’t sure they had ever quite understood him. He wondered what it might have been like, if he’d had the sort of unconditional support it seemed that Claire had. Perhaps things would have been different.

"I will certainly do that," he promised. "It really has been a godsend, meeting you and I have no intention of losing touch. I’ll see you in a few days, when I return this." He held up the movie in a sort of improvised wave and headed out of the shop, whistling again as he went. That had been an entirely unexpected situation, but refreshing nonetheless. This, he mused, was why he still had faith after so long. Because of moments like that. "Oh, the Lord’s been good to me," he sang to himself as he walked, "and so I thank the Lord..."