It wasn't Dean's fault that Claire didn't think in terms of relationships- though he had been there for one of the root causes. She was a blond burrito of abandonment issues wrapped in a tortilla of revenge and sprinkled with a light grating of Hero Complex. Jodi had taught her she needed others as much as they needed her, but Alex's death had put her off connecting with anyone for what she thought would be the rest of her foreseeable life. And a hunter's life, especially a woman's- whether she admitted it or not- was never very long.
But the fact was, she missed that light physical contact when he pulled it away. Her eyes stayed there on her hand, keenly feeling the absence of his. Even if she was too conditioned to not allow herself to understand why.
Claire inhaled slowly and rolled her lips. The thought of anyone knowing felt like a chemical burn on the back of her ribs- bloody and raw. But people were going to know eventually, and she did understand why he wanted his...first child to know. "If you need to," she replied after a while of trying to put the words together. Her eyes finally pulled away from her hand, and went back to his face. This time, Claire really looked, studied him with an intensity the chaos of the situation hadn't allowed until now. Now that he knew...
"Tell me where your head's at," Claire begged just under her breath. It was dangerously close to breaking. "'cause I can't find mine and I need somethin' to hold on to..."