Though the initial panic was sharp, Peter's care with readjusting the comforter and speaking helped Claire settle down again, sucking in multiple deep breaths as she willed her heart to stop pounding so hard. When she finally turned her head upward to face him, it was with an expression that was sheepish, but edged with that haunted look that persisted when she wasn't guarded enough to try to smile over it.
"Sorry." She realized she had likely been apologizing too much for her reactions the last two and some days, but she couldn't help it, because the reactions felt awkward and wrong to her. She didn't want to be this person, jumping at breezes, shying away from sudden loud noises, twitching at things that shouldn't remind her of those many hours, but still did at the end.
The door, which hadn't been closed fully, swung open entirely to reveal a box with a torso and legs. Or, more accurately, a large box being held by someone who wasn't quite visible over it until it was dropped on the end of the bed, revealing Ben.
"Hey, Claire, you got something!" Grinning, he pushed the box closer, clearly eager for her to open it.
Things arriving for her wasn't exactly very strange, but usually there were people attached. Curious, Claire leaned forward and pulled the box to her, noting the cut tape on the flaps.
"It's open," she said, eyebrows lifting.
Ben shrugged. "Yeah, Dad opened it first, to make sure it was okay." He made a face. "It's really girly, but it's definitely okay, he said."
Smiling briefly at the accurate parody of Ben repeating Dean's words, but the amusement curbed because of the fact that things sent to her were now something Dean felt he had to check through, to keep her safe, Claire opened the box lid and reached inside.
What she pulled out was a giant stuffed dog that had been packed into the box, the note with it fluttering away and landing near Peter's leg as Claire laid the dog out entirely.