in the morning light

[Claire Pierce]

Claire made Sirius tell her everything, every detail of every single letter and photo and response, made him answer her questions, made him talk until she was satisfied that he wasn't hiding anything else. She was worried, still, a bit of anxiety that stabbed at her, wondering if there was anything else he was hiding from her. But when she was done making him talk, she abruptly said, "It's late. We need to have dinner," looking away from him, temporarily closing the subject. So Sirius, surprised, got up and made dinner while she sat wordlessly at the table, reading the newspaper until they ate in silence, Sirius sneaking careful and nervous glances at her over his meal.

She didn't speak for the rest of the night. Sirius hovered nearby, trying and failing to distract himself, while she worked on a side project for a few hours with the single-minded focus she somehow managed to have even then. She had stopped yelling at him and withdrew back into herself, resulting in silence and a frosty distance between them all night. Claire honestly wasn't sure what to do at this point; she was angry, angry as hell, but not enough to really push him away. She could only channel her intensity into her work for so long; she set aside her notes and current draft and, after midnight, she finally gets up, holding her place in her book and yawning. Sirius trailed upstairs behind her when she moved up to their room, where she changed out of her work clothes at last, so many hours later. Pulling on a loose t-shirt, she stiffly climbed into bed and pulled the blanket over her, reopening her book. It was late, but Sirius hadn't caved and gone to sleep yet; he was being stubborn, she thought, maybe because he wanted to try to talk to her again.

She wasn't ready for that yet - contrary to popular belief, she didn't love being angry, and she didn't revel in the thought of shouting at him again - so she stayed silent, and she read, and she stressed, and eventually, without a word, she reached over and took his hand. She didn't look at him, but could feel his eyes on her. It was progress, maybe, the last thing she was willing to do before going to bed. When she turned off the lights and put away her book, she shifted onto her side for a second, finally looking at him for the first time in hours. The room was dark, but the moonlight and glow of the streetlights filtered through the window, enough that they could look at her. If he tried to analyze her face, he might see that she looked more open than any other time that day, that some walls had come down. But then the moment passed and she rolled back onto her back, tired and sighing imperceptible and feeling her anger recede a bit, she ended the stony silence, just for a minute, as her face closed off again, and said, "Night." And that was it. Hours had passed since she had blown up, and even more since she found out, and it was technically already a new day.

When she woke up in the morning, she tried to make herself get out of bed for a run, but somehow couldn't bring herself to it. Instead, she stared at the ceiling for a long time, listening to his steady breathing as he slept deeply while she ran the situation through her mind once again. When he woke up, he clearly did not know how to proceed, and honestly? She wasn't sure either. She hadn't made up her mind yet. He yawned again, asked why she hadn't gone out to run, and then quieted, studying her in the morning light that came in through the window. He wanted to say something, she could tell. He was going to apologize again, or try to explain again, or ask how she was, or - something. Anything. She probably wouldn't like it, whatever it was.

Unsurprisingly, he was talking again when she got up, glancing at the clock. In lieu of answering, for the time being, she disappeared into the bathroom to shower. When she returned, she stood in the doorway, wrapping in a towel with her hair wet and dripping, and searched his face for a long moment. Finally, she said, quietly, "I'm still very mad at you," and looked away. After some hesitation, she added, "Get up. You need to shower now to be ready in time," and moved to turn back to the bathroom. She was distant again, withdrawn after a few moments of peace that morning, leaving him to wonder where he stands with her now as they get ready and eat breakfast and prepare for the new day.

[James Sirius Potter]

One of the hardest things for Sirius to do is deal with silence – and throughout the evening the theme stayed the same, Claire was most definitely giving him the silent treatment (but it was better than being yelled at, right?) The only benefit to the silence was the lack of an opportunity for him to say something else that would make the situation that much worse – which is all he had managed to say for the entire evening since Claire had come home from work.

She questioned him intensely, for hours, trying to ensure that he didn’t leave out even the tiniest, most insignificant details – and the entire time he was wrapping his brain around the fact that this was probably the biggest mistake he could have made with Claire, forgetting to trust her and forgetting that without her, he wouldn’t be where he was today – they are a team, always have been and always will be.

Once the questioning period ended, he was prepared for her to finally let go with the yelling – but instead she said they needed to eat dinner and so he limped off to the kitchen, poured a drink and made them dinner as he would any other night. He expected her to say something, at some point, anything at all – but the words never came. Sirius thought of a million things to say, but none of them were good enough – as much as he hated to admit defeat, he knew that there was not much he could do right now to even attempt to save the situation.

As the night went on, Claire absorbed herself into a project of hers – and Sirius, well he tried to do the same. First he worked on a couple open case files, occasionally making notes, sitting at the kitchen table and glancing at Claire every so often. When he could no longer focus on case files, he moved into working on things for the Order – what they needed more eyes, and how they would get them where they needed to be undetected, among other things.

Unfortunately, this was really something he should have Claire’s help with – and so instead he turned to laying on the couch, reading for a while. When the silence just became too much, he poured another drink and went to sit on the porch and smoke a cigarette for a few minutes. When he came back in he had already finished the drink, set the glass in the sink and limped over to the couch and laid down again – but this time he didn’t even bother trying to focus on reading, he knew it was a waste of his time. Instead he continued to run the days events through his head.

Finally, hours later Claire headed up to bed – still without a word – and he followed up, extremely tired and sore at this point and having fought sleep for a couple hours in hopes that he could still go to bed next to Claire that night. He changed into a pair of old shorts and climbed into bed next to her, wanting to say something – but also knowing that he should probably continue to say nothing. She couldn’t be mad at his stupidity if he didn’t say something stupid, right?

When she finally turned to look at him, he couldn’t help but allow a small smile to creep onto his face – he could only see her eyes clearly, with light from outside coming in through the window. The look in her eyes, it didn’t seem so angry for that brief second – but then that second was over and she rolled on her back, seeming defensive and angry once again. Short and sweet, the only thing she had said to him in hours Night. sounded distant and still cold – but at least she had said something.

”Good night, Claire…” he said softly as he rolled onto his stomach and attempted to fall asleep. After maybe another hour – maybe less he couldn’t know for sure – he was finally asleep – but it wasn’t a restful sleep at all. Rather it was a nightmare filled sleep, Cato Blackwell had Claire and Juliette – and he was trapped and in tremendous pain, unable to get to them after searching through a maze, hearing their screams in the distance. When Sirius finally saw Blackwell he tortured them both in front of him. He never woke, the dream continued and he tossed and turned most of the night.

By the time the dream came to a close, Sirius was miserable, he hadn’t tossed around for an hour or so, maybe the dream had ended already and he hadn’t even been aware. Finally, his mind and body forced him awake, he groaned softly as he rolled on his back and realized that it had definitely been a dream – he could hear Claire in the shower, then getting ready for the day. ”You should’ve woke me up,” he mumbled as he got up, entirely uncertain of how to go about this day after the one prior. Where did he stand with Claire now? How much trust had he lost with her by hiding those stupid letters?

”You’re not gonna ignore me all day are you? Please don’t… I can’t do another whole day of that…” Sirius ran his hands in his hair, and laid back on the bed again for a few minutes, still trying to shake the nerves from the nightmare. Finally, she came out of the bathroom and much to Sirius surprise, she spoke to him – and still he wasn’t sure what to make of it.

"I'm still very mad at you," and looked away. After some hesitation, she added, "Get up. You need to shower now to be ready in time," and moved to turn back to the bathroom.

Yawning, he sat up and looked at her with a half smile, ”You got it. As long as there’s no more silent treatment. I can’t do that all day, I really can’t… I think I would have rather you yelled, at least then I know how you feel towards me…” With that said, he got up and started gathering up his clothes for the day so he could shower up and get ready when she finished in the bathroom. He could only hope that today would go at least a little better than the one before.

[Claire Pierce]

”You should’ve woke me up,” he mumbled, loud enough that she could hear it from where she stood looking at her clothes. Claire sighed, something between conciliatory and defensive, or perhaps both. "Why would I wake you up early just because I can't sleep?" she asked, her tone neutral and emotionless, so even and quiet that maybe he would think it hadn't happened. As she went into the bathroom, he laid back in bed and said to her retreating figure, "You’re not gonna ignore me all day are you? Please don’t… I can’t do another whole day of that…" She elected to resume her silence, wishing she hadn't said anything at all. She could ignore him all she want, she thought savagely. Maybe she would spend the day ignoring him after all, see how he would handle that, she thought, just before she got in the shower. A woman of precise routine, she had her morning regimen down to a timed practice, but she almost let her shower run longer than usual; she didn't want to get back out and have to face him again. Or have to face the day. Maybe she could forgive him and they could stay in at home all day. What would the letters and photos mean then?

This time, standing in the doorway with dripping hair and dark circles under her eyes and an old towel wrapped around her, she looked back at Sirius for the first time that day. He smiled a bit, smiled, when he responded to her reminder to get up. ”You got it. As long as there’s no more silent treatment. I can’t do that all day, I really can’t… I think I would have rather you yelled, at least then I know how you feel towards me…” he said this time. Her face was still impassive as he got up and she tried to work out an answer. Finally, once he had clothes ready, she stepped forward and said, "I don't know how I feel toward you," a quiet and steady admittance accompanied by a second of meeting his eyes.

But then Claire was steering Sirius toward the bathroom with a light hand to shove him that way, sensing his desire to start speaking again, maybe make her look at him again, or - she didn't know. "Shower, she directed, distant again because of what that admission cost her, "Shave. Get dressed." They weren't really running late for work, but either she was just running on habit and routine or on the assumption that she might derail their morning routine by fighting with him again. It was kind of a toss up. So she focused on drying her hair and getting dressed. By the time he was out of the shower, she had pulled her hair back into a ponytail and put on dark pants and a button down shirt, and was trying to force herself to think about work and that day's meetings and things she needed to do, but of course things came back to Sirius.

Without looking at him and instead in the mirror, she spread some light makeup over the dark circles under her eyes to cover them up - she hated looked so tired and sleep deprived in front of the office and people they met with - but she did speak. "What's wrong?" she asked, moving the conversation back to ten or fifteen minutes before, when he looked strangely unnerved and upset. It was something different than simply being nervous about her anger; despite how upset and confused she was, she still cared about him, and she felt a small uptick in her anxiety just from glimpsing how he looked ten minutes before. He hadn't quite lost it, that shaken and tense set to his body, that strange look in his barely awake expression, although now he was looking progressively more worried about his current standing with her.

[James Sirius Potter]

Waking up from a nightmare was always somewhere between sweet relief, and a panic attack due to the simple realness of his dreams… They always seemed far too real, the heat of flames, the pain of the cruciatus curse, the sounds of tortured screams coming from the ones he loved – he shook his head, trying to forget it, though it was never that easy. When she asked why she should have woken him up “just because she couldn’t sleep” he resisted the urge to go into a rant about how sometimes, he wished he couldn’t fall asleep, just so the dreams would stop.

She went back into the bathroom to shower and get ready and as he laid back on the bed he couldn’t help but let his thoughts go – it was far too early for him to have this much on his mind, but it just wouldn’t stop. There was the fear that something was wrong – not really a fear, but more of a twist in his gut that just wouldn’t let go, ever since the night before. On top of that, there was the paranoid fear in his head, the same one that had made it so hard to ask Claire out in the first place – the thought that he had already screwed things up, and if he couldn’t even make it a year without screwing things up, how was he supposed to manage the rest of their lives?

In the end, Sirius knew that most of the fears in his head were irrational – if Claire was going to leave him and kick him out, she wouldn’t have slept next to him the night before. They had been through so much – even when the trust is broken, it would take a lot to take away years worth of caring for someone. She may stay mad at him, may not trust him and may continue not to speak to him (as much as he hated that idea) – but in the end, he hoped he was right in his thought that maybe she, like him, couldn’t imagine life where they never spoke again.

Shortly she came back from the shower, he smiled at her – purely from the happiness of her speaking to him at all right now after the long night before. It didn’t seem like she liked that however and she remained silent, before finally admitting that she didn’t know how she felt towards him right now – to which he wasn’t sure how to react. Before he could even get his words together, she was pushing him towards the shower, ”Shower. Shave. Get dressed.,” she said and nothing else. Without a word he started up the shower, undressed and got in.

Steaming hot water pounding on his back, he leaned against the wall, thinking now on what Claire had just said. If she didn’t know how she felt, did that mean he had ruined his only chance? Was that jumping to too many conclusions? He shifted under the water, massaged his leg out of habit, and let out a heavy sigh, knowing that at this point there wasn’t much he could do, besides try to go about the day and hope that Claire was able to figure out what this would mean for them moving forward.

He didn’t finish with his shower until the hot water was nearly gone, as usual; then he dried off and got his black dress pants on before shaving and cleaning up the short beard he had been keeping lately. When he finished with that he waved his wand to clean up his mess, and finished getting dressed in a plain navy undershirt and a long sleeved black button-up shirt, which he buttoned halfway and rolled the sleeves up to his elbows – as usual he ran a comb through his hair and gave up on it from there.

Just when he was walking out of the bathroom, she suddenly asked him what was wrong – and at first he had to stop himself from laughing – what was wrong? What wasn’t wrong right now? There was the fact that she didn’t know how to feel towards him, the fact that he felt like a complete jack-ass for acting the way he did, the fact that he was still sore from his run-in with Nex members the day before, the fact that his daughter wouldn’t listen to him and he constantly worried for her safety, or the nightmare that had left him feeling more tired than when he went to sleep – what’s wrong suddenly felt like a loaded question, regardless of how simple the words were.

Sirius shrugged, ”Nothing important, I’m just tired I think… Need coffee, probably…” he told her, though his mind was thinking more along the lines of an alcoholic drink, rather than a caffeinated one. His words may have said nothing was wrong, but his uncertain feelings left his tone sounding far from confident in his words. He limped over to the bed, sat on the edge and started to wrap the brace around his knee, not sure what to say from here. The man who was always full of words – whether they were right or wrong – was finally at a loss for them. He wanted to let her know how much this whole thing was bothering him, but in the end he knew he had no room to complain, since he was the one who caused her to feel this way by keeping things from her in the first place.

[Claire Pierce]

Everything about this was awkward. Sirius was being extremely quiet, just less than her, carefully watching her and measuring his words. He obviously did not know what to expect with Claire today - how she would act, how she talk to him, if she would stay silent or yell again or just ignore it. He was probably reserving some hope that she would just forgive him and move on. At this point, even after hours of thinking about it and letting it all settle in after she had argued with him - exploded at him - last night, she wasn’t sure what she was feeling. She wasn’t about to kick him out, or make him sleep in the guest room again, or take a break of any kind. She didn’t even particularly want to start arguing about it again, and not just because she was so tired. But on the other hand, she didn’t feel like she could simply act like nothing was wrong, let alone easily forgive him for this.

Though it was not as if Claire didn’t want to forgive him. She didn’t like being mad at him, and she didn’t like that he had done this, and she didn’t like that they were in this position where she felt like some of her trust had gone the moment she saw that first note and photograph. Claire wanted this to be easier. Why couldn’t things have been easier for them when they finally started dating? With everything going on, it got so much more complicated. In only six months together, they had already seen each other in the hospital, been threatened and stalked, kept secrets, and now - trust issues. She hated this.

Maybe she should have gone on that run, she thought as she stood alone in the bathroom, hearing him slowly get up. Then she could have avoided this, the awkward early morning interaction before her walls were fully back up, caught in her thoughts, and avoided the inevitable morning routine done together. She could have already been downstairs, eating breakfast and drinking coffee, able to stare at the newspaper when he comes downstairs much later.

Sirius didn’t seem to have anything to say to her admission that she just didn’t know she felt, and she wasn’t sure if she was happy about that or not. His almost continual silence was strange. After all, he had a long history of talking and talking, even when he was in trouble with her. Digging himself into a deeper hole or infuriating her even more had never seemed to bother him, despite what came out it. Instead, this time he let her push him to the bathroom without a word of protest or questions. He certainly took his time as usual, she realized, rolling her eyes to herself out of habit.

Silently pulling her hair back and otherwise getting ready, she watched him out of the corner of her eye as he shaved, resisting the urge to make her usual light, joking commentary on his recent beard, and dressed. But he stopped on his way out, surprised, that she asked what was wrong. Yes, perhaps a bad choice of question, which he confirmed with his answer. ”Nothing important, I’m just tired I think… Need coffee, probably…” he said, shrugging, and she caught his uncertain tone despite his attempts at a casual response. Leaning against the bathroom doorframe, she crossed her arms and said, maintaining the neutral tone she had been committing to, ”No, when you woke up. There was something off with you, and it’s not gone.” There was a touch of worry in her face, even though she didn’t let it creep into her voice, but still, she hardened again and said, as she breezed by him to go downstairs, ”I’m angry, but I can still read you.” Claire did have to remind herself not to say something snappish and angry, something about hiding things and not being open with her, but there was worry there. Her back to him when he came downstairs to join her, she made coffee and considered her breakfast options, before finally looking back over at him over an unusually large mug of her steaming hot coffee.

[James Sirius Potter]

Everything about this particular morning felt wrong – he hated this feeling of awkward uncertainty in the air, but it lingered nonetheless as he went about getting ready for the day. His mind continued to race, darting from one thing to the next – would he have time to check in on Juliette again today, or even this week, to ensure she was safe? When would he receive the next creepy stalker letter from Blackwell? Would the evil monster keep his word and go after Juliette and Claire now that he had divulged information about their correspondence or was that always meant to be a scare tactic and nothing more?

Almost even more nagging in the front of his head, the longer things remained silent between him and Claire, was how in the world he was going to make it through an entire day like this. In the entire thirty eight years of their lives, there were very few days where they didn’t at least speak to one another once – and since living together there had been such a natural ease to the situation, he didn’t feel like he had to try hard to talk and have a good time with Claire, not ever. Yet now, his ever confident and cocky attitude was being suppressed by the odd feeling of being able to truly admit when he made a mistake – a feeling he’s only had a couple of times and one that never sits well with him.

As he explained that nothing was wrong – or that’s at least what he let come out of his mouth – she stopped him, reminding him of when he first woke up that morning, saying that something seemed off. The look on her face left tiny traces of concern for him, though it was masked perfectly in her composed tone. Then she walked past him she said, ”I’m angry, but I can still read you.” He sighed and ran a hand through his hair – how did she always know?

Still sitting on the bed, Sirius contemplated for only a few moments on how he was going to go about the rest of the day – he could continue to let it be horrible awkward and silent, giving in to his feelings of guilt and fear and simply wait for things to return to normal – OR he could take a shot of whiskey, fill his flask, grab a cup of coffee and get ready to talk, to try and act normal, and try and move them past this, letting her know that he knew he fucked up, but he just could not live in silence like this – not when there were so many important things they needed to be talking about.

Once his decision was made, Sirius got up and went to the dresser where he had stashed a second bottle of whiskey ages ago – he finally opened it and took a sip straight from the bottle, then filled his flask and put it in his pocket. He looked in the mirror, he looked tired and he sighed once more, rubbing his face. ”Here we go… he said to himself softly, trying to feel more himself – more confident and less likely to let his feelings of guilt get in the way. Whether it was the quick mental pep talk minutes earlier or the shot of whiskey he had just taken he didn’t care, what mattered was he could be himself.

Still limping a little more than usual from the day before he took his time getting down the stairs and when he reached the kitchen, Claire had her back turned to him, looking for breakfast and making coffee. Once she poured her own mug, he grabbed his own from the cupboard and pours a cup of coffee for himself, then goes to the table and takes his seat, taking in the look on her face – which was entirely composed and neutral, as it had been since the night before when she started the silent treatment.

Sirius sipped his coffee, took a breath, and decided now was as good as ever. ”Look, I know we’re like, in this weird spot right now. I just want you to know I’m not keeping anything else from you – and I don’t plan on it happening again… I did something stupid and I’m ready to move past it and just make sure I don’t make that mistake again, the lesson was learned… and I hope you’ll forgive me soon. His eyes had locked with hers as he spoke, but they darted away down to his mug of coffee when he stopped. He waited a moment, but only a short moment before he looked back up at her and spoke again.

”As much as I’m sure you would love to torture me and stay silent all day long, while I sit across from you losing my mind, that’s not going to work.” he said. ”There is just too much we need to be working on – especially now.” He ran a hand through his hair again, and sipped his cup of coffee – both nervous habits of his that he’s had for years. ”And, as far as what was bothering me this morning goes… It’s a couple of things. One I’m not so worried about, it was a nightmare… A really realistic nightmare…” he sighed, hating to admit to such a thing.

”But the second, is this horrible feeling that something bad is going to happen, really soon… It hasn’t gone away since early last night… I just can’t shake it – and I’m usually not wrong about a feeling like this one… And I’ve regretted ignoring it before…”

[Claire Pierce]

Sirius didn't know how to admit mistakes. He didn't know how to accept responsibility and say he was sorry and explain, knowingly and heartfelt, that he was wrong. It just wasn't something that came easily to him. Of course, it wasn't something that Claire - stubborn and headstrong and the perpetual know-it-all that she was - could really criticize him for, although she would always loftily say, readily enough if it came up, that at least she knew when she had made a mistake. (The rare instance of a mistake, or perhaps if she ever did make a mistake at all, a younger and more obnoxious Claire would have said. And probably had.) Still, it drove her absolutely insane at times, especially he had a made a mistake that affected her. Like right then. She frowned at him when his back was turned from her, getting him own mug of coffee, as she tried to figure out what she was going to do.

"You're limping," she noted, not a question. It might have been critical, it might have been worried, it might have been weighed down by the typical tone that said you're an idiot. However, it probably was not at all completely and utterly neutral and emotionless as she intended. So she drank her coffee and briskly opened the morning newspaper. She was halfway through an article when she had looked back up over her coffee, a faint frown on her face. Then he was talking, just when she was going to go back to her article and perhaps ignore him some more. It had been much more peaceful that way. ”Look, I know we’re like, in this weird spot right now. I just want you to know I’m not keeping anything else from you – and I don’t plan on it happening again… I did something stupid and I’m ready to move past it and just make sure I don’t make that mistake again, the lesson was learned… and I hope you’ll forgive me soon."

Claire looked back at him for a long moment, impassive, her face still. He had looked away from her then, no doubt nervous and uncomfortable. She thinks for a second that shouldn't make him squirm like less, make him worry and feel ill at ease, but then she decides in a resurgence of her spite that he could keep on feeling that way for now. She had to go through the emotions of that revelation, so she wouldn't rush to assure him of feelings she hadn't reached yet only to make him feel better. Yes, she was bitter. Nothing new.

"'A weird spot'?" she repeated tonelessly as she got up to make something to eat. It was an improvement; she could have echoed the bitterness in her thoughts, or been very angry. "Yes, you did something stupid, and I'm sorry, but I'm not quite ready to just move past it," she said, fighting to keep her voice even and free of emotion. A hint of sarcasm crept in. Better than any feeling of helplessness. Because she wasn't ready to simply move past it. It hadn't even been a whole day yet; it felt like only hours ago, and this wasn't something she could work through in five minutes. Sirius should know that, because he knew her and knew she wasn't prone to easy forgiveness as a rule. Claire might put on her unflappable calm demeanor, all calm and cool, or even her more animated demeanor with that mischievous cleverness and sarcastic humor, but she was not above holding grudges and keeping bitter anger deep down inside. After all, this was a woman with an impeccable memory.

In any other situation, she would have instinctively rolled her eyes when he began, ”As much as I’m sure you would love to torture me and stay silent all day long, while I sit across from you losing my mind, that’s not going to work.” But he finished by saying there was just too much they needed to be working on. Together, the unsaid addition she presumed he meant. The lighter part of her wondered who this was and what had happened to the real Sirius. Working? Imagine that. Instead, she said, in a way that would have been dry if only there was any humor left in her right then, "You, the voice of reason in this relationship." It was, in all fairness, a bit absurd. Back at the table then, he finally responded to her question about what was bothering him. A nightmare. She frowned and finally met his eyes again for a fleeting moment; her voice was just short of impassive when she said, "You should have woken me up."

But then, when she had returned to the newspaper, a coping mechanism of sorts, he was talking about having this horrible feeling. She stopped reading, eyes fixed on the page. "It's just a feeling," she said quietly. "And it's a feeling I have every moment of every day at this point. It's what this has become, isn't it?" She paused. She ate her breakfast. But then, conceding, she looked up again, leaving the topic open for him, rather than being dismissive like she could have been.

[James Sirius Potter]

This entire day just needed to be over with already, he knew that it was going to be a long one from the start – and Claire’s demeanor told him he wasn’t wrong. No matter what he said or did, he wasn’t getting anything close to a normal day and he knew that – but it wasn’t going to stop him from saying his piece as best as he knew how. Finding the right words, he knew, would be impossible for him; in the end he would simply blurt out whatever was on his mind and have to hope that in the end it will be good enough.

As she turned away from him towards the table once filling her coffee, she stated that he was limping – not a question but more of an observation of sorts – and while it wasn’t entirely emotionless, he was having a hard time determining what prompted it. Perhaps it was a mixture of criticism and concern – coming out passively rather than in the typical Claire fashion, where she outright calls him an idiot. Filling his own mug, he simply said, ”I almost didn’t notice.” It wasn’t quite his usual sarcasm – but notes of it were definitely heard in the tone – and it and come out without much thought.

From that point, it was silence for another few minutes, her sipping her coffee and reading the paper, him, sipping his own coffee after sitting at the table – trying to formulate the right words in his head. Nothing sounded good – nothing sounded right – but he knew sitting here in silence was going to drive him mad, so after a bit he just spoke – and he didn’t stop until he had said probably everything he could think to say at the moment, no matter how stupid it may sound.

"'A weird spot'?" she repeated tonelessly as she got up to make something to eat…. "Yes, you did something stupid, and I'm sorry, but I'm not quite ready to just move past it," she said, fighting to keep her voice even and free of emotion.

At this Sirius sighed, frowned a little, yeah he didn’t have the best choice in words – but what else was he supposed to call it? They weren’t screaming, arguing or otherwise fighting, that had ended the night before so he couldn’t call it a fight. So what exactly was this, that they were going through? In all honesty, he didn’t have a clue, which was why he was having such a hard time navigating what to do in this situation. A fight he could handle – he simply walked away from it when it got too a point – but this wasn’t something he could just walk away from.

Looking up from his mug for a second he said, ”I don’t know what to call this, Claire. Forgive me for not being an expert with words like you are. What would you call, not a fight, but something that’s awkward and frustrating and uncertain? I don’t have a word to cover that.” Running a hand in his hair, he looked back down at his cup. ”I’m not saying you should forgive and forget… I don’t know what I’m asking exactly – just not to be ignored all day, I guess…

It’s not that he expected her to be able to get over this quickly – he far from expected that – but he hoped, at the very least, for a hint of normalcy between them. If for no other reason, than to give him a small bit of peace of mind amongst the chaos – because now he was having a hard time trying to think about anything but trying to make it up to Claire. At least if they could talk about work, about The Order, even about the letters – anything at all that would feel like they were making progress, then maybe it would help bring things back to normal between them…

"You, the voice of reason in this relationship."

At this he merely shrugged, looking down at his cup of coffee, mind racing still. He knew it wasn’t exactly his role – it never had been so why was he trying now? Maybe it was him trying to push them forward, whether Claire was ready for it or not. Maybe it was his fear that if they didn’t keep talking, he would end up in perpetual silence until Claire finally forgave him. Maybe it was just because he wanted to keep his mind busy – and talking things over with Claire would make them clearer, it always did. At least if they were talking about things, it would at least feel like they were getting closer, rather than being set back again.

When she told him that he should have woken her up, he rolled his eyes without really thinking about it, and sipped his coffee. ”If I had woken up, I’m sure I would have…” Of course, it was not her fault he had been unable to pull himself from the nightmare – actually, since moving in with Claire they had become less and less frequent. Unfortunately, that didn’t make them any less realistic or terrifying when they did occur and he was still trying to forget the echoing screams coming from Claire and Juliette and the maniacal laugh of Blackwell, which had seemed all too real in his dream.

Claire had gotten up and found herself breakfast, before sitting back at the table and picking up the paper once again. Sirius didn’t get up, he hardly looked up from his coffee – whether it was the gut wrenching feeling that something bad was about to happen, or the whiskey not sitting well in his stomach mixed with the coffee, he had no idea – but food, for once in his life, was the farthest thing from his mind.

"It's just a feeling," she said quietly. "And it's a feeling I have every moment of every day at this point. It's what this has become, isn't it?"

At that, he sat there and thought for few minutes, finishing off the cup of coffee and eventually getting up and grabbing another steaming cup full. ”It’s not that feeling… he said, speaking as he thought. ”The feeling that never goes away, it’s not the same. I don’t know how to put it – this just feels worse... he sighed, sipping the new mug of coffee, still thinking. ”Maybe I’m just losing my mind, just like Blackwell wants me to… You’re probably right… I’m paranoid or something… I know it’s irrational, but I just can’t shake it…”

Only moments later, there was a familiar tapping at the kitchen window – but both of their owls had already come for the morning to drop off the Daily Prophet and a few letters, so there should have been no reason for more mail. Sirius sipped his coffee as he looked up at the window and then he nearly choked on it – the familiar amber feathered owl with haunting green eyes was sitting there, staring him down, with a letter held proudly in it’s beak. The feeling in his stomach intensified and his heart raced for a second – it was too soon for another letter from the leader of the Nex – they were usually at least a week apart – yet here was the familiar owl, determined to deliver his message.

Sirius got up without a word, though he gave an extremely nervous look to Claire, he limped over to the window and took the letter from the owl, who promptly took off this time – usually it hung around to bring back a response. ”Claire…” Sirius said finally as he opened the letter, only needing a second to glance over the contents to realize what was happening and it was almost too much to process in that moment. His mind almost numb for a moment, he went to her and handed her the letter, losing his cool only a second later with a raging yell and his fist creating a hole in the nearest wall as he waited for Claire to react. His mind was too flooded with anger, fear and a pure rage – and if it weren’t for the fact that Blackwell had not given a location, he would have already left to murder Blackwell himself.

[Claire Pierce]

Sirius was being remarkably quiet through all of this. It was definitely the most quiet he had ever been when they were fighting with each other or upset about something, although it happened quite rarely. And this was different. A different kind of fight and meaning weighing it down. It wasn't like the unusual work argument or the admittedly less rare - and previously more frequent - about his various bad choices (drinking, smoking, his health, you name it and they had probably yelled about it). Honestly, she wasn't entirely sure what to do with the way he was handling this. It wasn't bad, exactly, but it was strange. ”I almost didn’t notice,” he said then, some of the typical sarcasm to the reply. She pursed her lips, holding in further comments. It wouldn't get them anywhere, and she didn't feel like getting into that conversation - or argument, probably - with him. There was enough going on already.

But if Sirius was hoping for some semblance of normalcy, he still got it, in the way that she had still made coffee for him, she was reading the newspaper at the table, she was still sitting there with him; she was letting him be around her, or letting herself stay near him. That could be enough for him for the time being as she tried to work through this. Of course she was trying to work through it on her own, in a way, because she didn't know how to do this sort of thing with someone else, even with Sirius. Relationships of any kind had never come easy to her, only really with Sirius, but the emotional, tough things were something she had always had to deal with alone. Or attempt to, at least, until he intervened.

He went on, filling the silence again, unable to keep up the absolute quiet. However, there was still a quietness to the way he spoke, pleading with her but not raising his voice, and clearly not his usual spirited self. ”I’m not saying you should forgive and forget… I don’t know what I’m asking exactly – just not to be ignored all day, I guess…" he said, and Claire almost sighed. "It's pretty difficult to speak with you normally right now," Claire said, her voice strained. "And I don't suppose you want to be yelled at again. I certainly won't do that at work in front of people either. So I'm not sure what to tell you then," she snapped. She looked at him, a hard gaze, and challenged, "What do you want to talk about?"

And now she let him have something, another quick flash of something other than anger - the earlier admittance upstairs, the concern about how he had seemed after waking up, the way he was limping again - when she said, without looking at him, "I... I appreciate that you're trying." It was steady and conversational, though it still made her nervous, but she couldn't help herself. Claire knew that Sirius didn't know what to do either. Although she wasn't quite sure what made her say it, she did add something more. "I know that this isn't... what you wanted. And that you don't know what to do either. At least we're in the same boat," she said, self-aware and mildly sarcastic until the end of time. In a way, he had gotten through to her that morning; she was talking, she was periodically looking at him, she was fairly composed, and she was even able to talk about it, albeit in a roundabout, withdrawn, and sharp way. It was Sirius. Sometimes Claire even surprised herself when it came to him.

She was quiet and thoughtful while he spoke of that persistent feeling, turning it over in her mind and starting to think like an auror again. After all, she was a defensive and compartmentalized person; she could turn to thoughts of work and their other current problems right now. Through it all, she couldn't help but feel a bit helpless, as she had nothing to really say to reassure him. It wasn't unfounded, of course, both the thoughts that something bad was going to happen and the thoughts that it was irrational and just him going crazy about it. Paranoia was something she understood, despite her most rational self.

Before she knew what was happening, there was an owl and a note and she had stood up and Sirius had frozen with the note in hand. She was about to rip it out of his hands when he handed it to her just a split second since he lost the numbness and punched a hole in her wall. And in that split second, Claire filed away everything else - the events of yesterday, her anger, their fight, this stalemate - and let everything fall away. Then she went into full auror mode, professional and efficient and powerful and ready. She had already processed this, had decided the next step, and was ready to move on to taking action. But Sirius would probably punch another hole in the wall, or black out from rage, or - she wasn't even sure. She certainly didn't like the look in his eyes; it was extremely dangerous, and she needed to control it immediately. "Sirius," she snapped briskly, grabbing him and pinning him in place with a strong, unshakable grip. "We're going to fix this. We're going to get her. We're going to take care of him. Now, fucking breathe, or we can't do anything." She gave him a few seconds, fiercely meeting his eyes, and then added, fairly threateningly, "I won't let you go anywhere if you don't remember that we need to think right now. You won't be able to do anything in a blind rage." Another couple of beats passed and she continued, steely and even more threateningly, "I will do this with or without you. Your choice."

[James Sirius Potter]

Talking to anyone, unless it was talking them into something, had never been Sirius strong suit – and it showed now, more than it had in a while. There were so many ways he could go about this, he could have just sulked in the silence, gone to work, found an excuse to wander off and drink for a while and by the time he drank enough, maybe the silence wouldn’t bother him so much; or he could have pretended like nothing happened and tried to go about his day as normal – which had never worked for him in the past. He tried to remember how he handled things with Kayla when they were fighting – but that was useless, he had always gone to work to get away and give her time to calm down, which clearly wouldn’t work with Claire seeing as they worked in the same office with desks facing one another.

In the end, his rambling, his hope was to at least getting them to focus on work – to put their minds somewhere else for a while, so they didn’t let this – whatever it was – hold them back. Sirius just couldn’t stand the tension in the room right now and he didn’t know how to cope with it without simply walking away, which he really didn’t want to do for a number of reasons. One, they were stronger as a pair – and if the feeling in his gut truly meant anything then they needed to be together right now. Two, is simply that he didn’t feel right about walking away from anything resembling a fight with Claire – he never had before and he wouldn’t start now.

"It's pretty difficult to speak with you normally right now," Claire said, her voice strained. "And I don't suppose you want to be yelled at again. I certainly won't do that at work in front of people either. So I'm not sure what to tell you then," she snapped. She looked at him, a hard gaze, and challenged, "What do you want to talk about?”

At this he sighed, but the truth was, he didn’t know what they should talk about – where they should start – he honestly didn’t even have a plan for once they got into the office that day except to look through another mile high pile of paperwork that would surely be found on their desks. Usually, by now, he was already making a mental game plan of sorts – which aurors were already on cases, which ones they would assign to new cases and where he and Claire needed to have their focus for the day – and today that simply wasn’t the case.

Then suddenly, Claire spoke again, and it was not what he had expected – but he smiled a little nonetheless, staring down at his cup of coffee still. "I... I appreciate that you're trying." …."I know that this isn't... what you wanted. And that you don't know what to do either. At least we're in the same boat," He nodded, ”Yeah, you’re right… It wasn’t what I wanted… I wanted to tell you – but paranoid and impulsive Sirius took over and I made a really, really stupid mistake…” he sipped his coffee again.

It was hard for him to admit how wrong he was still – it had felt so right at the time, but the more he thought about it, the more he realized that it was the irrational, angry, hateful, paranoid and in a way truly terrified man he had let himself become that had made him think keeping those letters from her was a good idea – and he couldn’t let everything the Nex and Blackwell had done turn him into that.

Eventually he got up to get another cup of coffee – once he sat back down he pondered aloud the feeling he had been experiencing since early the night before. It had first begun early that day when the letter from Blackwell showed up – and he had been able to shake it for a while after seeing that Claire and Juliette were both okay and safe – but something still hadn’t felt right; it only intensified throughout the night as he and Claire argued – and that combined with the sick feeling from having hurt things between them had not gone away since then.

When he noticed the owl that feeling had only become more intense, he limped over to the window and took the letter and only had it for a second before he felt a rage brewing inside of him that he wasn’t sure he could control. This man had already taken his family from him once, there was no way in hell he was going to take Juliette from him too. He hadn’t known her long, but she was finally, in a way, starting to come around to him and he absolutely would not let another one of his daughters lives to be cut short.

Sirius wasn’t exactly thinking as he handed the note off to Claire and promptly put a hole in her wall – it hadn’t even registered with him until after he had done it, as he pulled his hand back closer to his chest. He was reaching for his wand when suddenly there were small hands gripping his shoulders, Claire though much smaller than him, was very strong and he didn’t resist her grip – but he still wasn’t focused enough to hear her words clearly at first – his mind was swimming with horrible images from both his memory and his dreams, both horrified and enraged thinking of what Blackwell might have done to her already.

"We're going to fix this. We're going to get her. We're going to take care of him. Now, fucking breathe, or we can't do anything." She gave him a few seconds, fiercely meeting his eyes, and then added, fairly threateningly, "I won't let you go anywhere if you don't remember that we need to think right now. You won't be able to do anything in a blind rage." Another couple of beats passed and she continued, steely and even more threateningly, "I will do this with or without you. Your choice."

Sirius nodded, sort of unconsciously, finally catching up and taking in everything she was saying to him. He took a few long, very deep breaths, one hand in a fist still and the other wrapped tightly around his wand in his pocket. ”I’m going to kill him, Claire… he said, rather calmly considering everything. He wanted to be screaming, at someone, something, he would go to every last known location of the Nex and tear things apart until he found his daughter if that was what it took – but as he forced himself to bring him back to a semi-rational state he hoped to God that Claire had a better plan than he did right now.

He took another couple deep breaths, his heart was still racing, his adrenaline was running high and he needed to be doing something. ”I’m going… If you’ve got a plan, lets fucking hear it.” he said, his way of telling her that he would do his best to stay in control – his grey-green eyes locked on to hers, a cold, but determined and even a bit of a terrified look on his face. ”I can’t let him get away with this...” he said with a tone split between hatred and desperation – he wouldn’t lose anyone else to the Nex or Blackwell, he just couldn’t let it happen.

[Claire Pierce]

Claire was just thinking that they would have to be at work soon when everything, well, fell to shit. Then there was a hole in her wall and a menacing letter clutched in her hand and an out-of-control Sirius before her, looking like he was seconds from doing something truly stupid and life-threatening. So her instincts kicked in, from years of experience as an auror, a person in dangerous situations, and the person who had to control Sirius, and her own natural ability to control. She held him in place through a combination of her surprising strength and her sheer strength of will, which did generally work when it came to Sirius. Although they had been times where he had initially tried to fight her off, throw away her grip or control, he would eventually acquiesce... or she would do what needed to be done, like stun him. She wasn't above doing it. This time, though, he didn't resist it, and he let her get her iron grip on him and dig her nails into his arms to really drive home the point that he was not going to move an inch. Either there was the part of her brain that knew he had to let this happen or he was just so distracted that he couldn't even try to put up a fight. "Sirius," she said, her voice even and dangerous. "Breathe."

And, finally, he did. He took some long, deep breaths, and she let out a little breath herself, although she didn't let go of him just yet. "I understand. I know. But you need to focus." One hand was still in a fist and the other was already on his wand, and he said, "I'm going to kill him, Claire," a dangerous calm to his voice that she knew very well from years of listening to it from him, albeit rarely, and hearing it in her own voice, far more frequently. "I know," she said simply. "And I'm going to be right there with you." While usually she was the icy cool one and Sirius was explosive, things were reversed right then; Sirius had that dangerous calm to his voice and tense stance, while Claire was fierce and dangerous and there was some wildness to her for a moment. It was easy to forget, because of how well she hid it, and how it never came up or was discussed, that Claire's mother had been murdered, and she had never been the same since. She hid her anger and grief and absolute bitter fury much better than Sirius did; he let it rule and ruin him, she buried it and let it fester. But it was there. And for a moment, that burning fury was clearly there.

"But I'm not going to let you get yourself killed," she reminded, her voice tight then, all of that emotion that she dreaded filed away somewhere but coming closer to the surface. He was an idiot when he was like this, and he would charge in there - somewhere, anywhere - and get killed before he could do anything. She couldn't let that happen. Couldn't let him die. Couldn't experience life without him for however long that might be. "So get it together. At least enough that you can think and help and function as a person, let alone as an auror."

After a couple more breaths, he was still ready to run off, but he had calmed down enough to talk and maybe, just maybe, let her talk to him and make a damn plan. Finally, he said, "I’m going… If you’ve got a plan, lets fucking hear it," and he seemed to be in control of himself - to a degree; she still felt like he might burst away from her any second and punch a wall or lose it or be gone before she could stop him. She raised her eyebrows at him, asking if he was ready to do this. She gave him a few more seconds to get hold of himself, and then she let go of him. Before she spoke, finally looking away from him and that crazy-eyed gaze, she forced him to relax his hand out from a fist, let a beat pass where she gripped his hand, tight and reassuring, and then took a step back.

Then he was speaking again, and she met his eyes, although it hurt to, seeing that look there. "I can’t let him get away with this..." he said, and the hate and desperation in his voice were clear. It broke her heart even more, and added more hatred and determination into her already massive well of it. "We're not going to let him," she promised, her voice making it clear that there was no alternative, no failure, no other result. Claire didn't do things halfway, and she didn't give up. This was no different. "We're going to the office. I'm going to put together a team - I already know who. We're going to figure out where he is and where he has her. We're going to make a plan. And then we're going to go," Claire said, her voice back to its usual extreme evenness. She was always the most calm and levelheaded in any emergency or situation, and she always knew what to do. Although she didn't make another spoken threat about his control, it was completely obvious in her own self-control and the warning was there in her voice and in her face, along with the unspoken question of his agreement that she was waiting on. They would go to the office any second now, but she stood there in front of him, ready to go but waiting on him to be able to go and not explode in three seconds; he was a ticking time bomb, she knew that, but it was a matter of how long before the clock ran out.

[James Sirius Potter]

The fury building inside him was almost too much to contain – as he reached for his wand he was already trying to make a decision – go for the biggest headquarters of the Nex first perhaps, or hunt down that Blaine, who he had asked his daughter to stay away from – he would probably know where to find Juliette. However before he could even get his wand out of his pocket, Claire had a death grip around his arms, and for a second he almost considered trying to shove her off of him – but her nails digging into his arm both told him he would regret it and in an odd way, helped him come back from his rage-fueled, impulsive planning and enable him to think at least somewhat clearly.

She told him to breathe and after a few seconds of holding in his breath he finally let out a long exhale, and followed up with a couple deep breaths – trying to bring his mind back into a rational state, which was becoming increasingly difficult the more he thought about the situation at hand. Only the fact that he knew Claire absolutely would not let him get away with trying something reckless held him in place – she had stunned him before and left him behind when he was not in his right mind – and at the moment he was definitely not in his right mind – but he wouldn’t let her do that now, there was no way he was staying behind on this.

"I understand. I know. But you need to focus." she told him – and he was trying desperately to be able to do just that. Claire was better at making a plan than he was – he would come up with a plan sure, but he wouldn’t take the time to consider the outcome and how it could go wrong, he would run with the first thing he had in a moment like this. During a normal case, he could stay clearheaded and come up with a good, working plan, just like Claire (granted it had taken quite a bit longer for him to develop this skill) – but not in a situation like this, where his judgement was clouded by a rage that had been burning inside him for years now, which had taken over as soon as he read the letter from Cato Blackwell.

After a moment, it was like the rage had settled in a way – he knew he was no good to Juliette in the state he had been in moments ago, ready to fly off the handle and go for the first thing he thought of. He needed to be focused, like Claire told him – he needed to do this right, or Blackwell could get away with the whole thing – and there was more at stake than he had remembered. In the blind fury he had not even thought of the fact that it was not only Juliette’s life at stake – she was pregnant with twins – something he was still trying to process himself had now just become all to real to him. For Sirius, when rage turned to calm, that was when there was a true need to worry – and he told Claire that he was going to kill Blackwell – and luckily she did not disagree, she stood by him as always and even in this moment, it was still a comforting thought.

There were only a few times in his life when he had been pushed so far that after losing his temper, that it evened out to a cold, harsh, deadly calm. It was both a bit of a good sign – and bad sign as well – this could only be contained for so long – when he came face to face with Blackwell, no one could know what would happen at that point. "But I'm not going to let you get yourself killed," Claire at least had an idea of how it could go, her grip had not loosened around his arms, keeping him there and in a way only she could, managing to keep him from going off the deep end. "So get it together. At least enough that you can think and help and function as a person, let alone as an auror."

For the first time since his fist had gone through her wall, he was hearing her as she spoke – and not as if it were coming from the distance, he had entirely caught up, left his temper behind in exchange for a dark demeanor that he rarely ever had. He told Claire he wanted to hear her plan – whatever it may be – his way of expressing that at the very least, he was ready to go at this like they needed to; there wasn’t room for error here, he wasn’t going to let it happen.

After a few more deep breaths, she seemed to trust his calm exterior, letting go of his arms finally – then taking his hand, forcing him to relax his fist as she gave him a raised eyebrow, questioning whether or not he could do this. She gripped his hand tightly, as reassuring as anything had ever been, he gave her hand a tight squeeze and nodded, with another long and slow exhale, he was as ready as he was going to be – and if they didn’t start doing something soon, that’s when he would lose it again. She stepped away, moving back into her more composed self, then reassuring him that they would not let Blackwell get away with this – she felt the same as he did, it was all or nothing here and nothing wasn’t an option on the table.

"We're going to the office. I'm going to put together a team - I already know who. We're going to figure out where he is and where he has her. We're going to make a plan. And then we're going to go,"

As she spoke, he loosened the grip on his wand in his pocket, instead wrapping his fingers around the flask he had filled upstairs. Sirius took a step away from the wall, shifting his weight off his sore knee, then said, ”Then let’s fucking do this.” The look on his face was still fierce, dangerously close to losing control, but he had enough sense to know they had to do this right. "See you at the office," he said, and without another word he disapparated and reappeared in his and Claire’s office. Before Claire could get there pulled the flask out and drank a generous amount of the whiskey in there – his quickest way to dull pain and thanks to years of drinking, his ability to function wouldn’t be impaired unless he drank that flask three or four times over.

Sirius knew that Claire would be there momentarily, he put the flask back in his pocket and took out his wand. A quick swish of his wand and a nonverbal spell pointed at the filing cabinet and within seconds all the files of possible relevance came flying out, landing in order on a table along a back wall. While Claire got their team together, he would be trying to find the most likely places that Blackwell would keep her – anywhere that had a description matching the photo sent to them, which Claire still had with the letter – it showed her, tied up and in some massive basement or dungeon of sorts. That place was here somewhere, he just had to figure out where he was keeping her – and then they could save Juliette.

[Claire Pierce]

Claire knew that he was trying to focus and calm down enough, to be able to think and work like they needed to. Of course, she couldn’t ask him to treat it like any other situation, any other case, but she had to get him to be able to function enough to get things done and solve this. Otherwise he might explode and do something stupid, or they would not be able to do what needed to be done. Alternatively, she could always knock him out and lock him up in the office. It had happened before. That threat hung there in the air; he knew she would do what needed to be done, even if that meant leaving him behind. Hopefully that was enough to bring him back out of the rage, just enough.

Their relationship and their bond, along with years of being all the other needed, helped snap Sirius out of it, enough that he could talk and accept that he needed to listen to her. He came back from standing on the edge of that cliff and seemed to be back, just a bit, in his right mind. So Sirius let Claire talk and then he said, ”Then let’s fucking do this,” a crazed edge to his voice, and she narrowed her eyes at him. ”See you at the office,” he said then, disappearing a second after speaking, before Claire could drag him out of the house herself. She stared at the spot that he had just been standing in and nearly sighed in exasperation, if only it had been another time and situation. With the split second she had left at the house before needing to follow him, she took a deep breath, steadied herself, and then she was gone too.

While Sirius went directly into their personal office, Claire brought herself to the front of the departmental office. The office, full and busy and active, fell silent the moment they spotted her; Claire was scary on a daily basis, but the look on her face just then bordered on terrifying, and people knew when she meant business. It was instantly clear that this was serious. She starting shouting immediately, mostly bypassing the stage of speaking at a fairly normal level and moving right into a raised voice with a tone that clearly said to get moving right away. Letting Sirius stay in the office for the time being, she gave a briefing that was very brief and nearly shouted the whole way through, and then began ordering everyone around, handpicking the best people for the job and distributing tasks. As she yelled at a few people, the best of the best, to join them soon and be ready to go, she recalled the sharp reminder that she wasn’t technically supposed to be going out into the field. After all, she had just been cleared for the office and the end of medical rest the previous morning, and field work was a week away; six days, now. But she was fine. And stubborn. And honestly? She felt alive, with all the adrenaline and danger and everything sharpening and focusing.

From there, leaving the main office in chaos - albeit carefully organized and Claire-Pierce-orchestrated - Claire strode into their office and burst inside, letting the door swing shut behind her and muffling the noise from outside the office. As she knew, he was inside, and she found him with all the necessary files already out for them. Countless documents and letters and photographs, notes taken by Claire and Sirius and other teams, Claire’s meticulous and extremely thorough files, all ready on their desks. ”I have more in the file room that I’m going to get for us to look at,” she said without preamble. Their office couldn’t possibly contain everything she had, and she had plenty of other files on locations, habits, and possible ideas within the general office documents that she needed to pull out. ”I’ve already briefed them and given orders and set up our team. We’ll go out there and work with them. The more eyes and heads the better.” She spoke while flipping through some of the files to separate them into a few piles, her gaze catching a few times on the photos of herself that were grouped in with the rest of the letters. Unlike yesterday, though, she wasn’t angry, because it didn’t even matter in that moment.

After quickly explaining what she had told everyone outside their office as she made groups of files, Claire looked back up at him, standing there on the other side of the desks, and met his eyes for a moment. “You don’t get to be reckless. You can’t be irrational. You can’t get out of control,” she said, her voice even but forceful, allowing for no argument. “I know that is asking a lot, and I know you’re probably still going to be all of those things. But listen to me, and listen to the others, and try, please, to not get yourself killed.”

Blackwell was going to die or go rot in prison if Claire and Sirius were feeling remotely free of rage (it wasn’t likely) and then it would be over. This is what she clung to. This was temporary, and it would end, and then they could - they could move on. She could find some kind of closure, and she could live her life, and think of her mother without fury and grief that had not been avenged. The fury and grief would never leave her, but she was working toward doing something with it. But where she became cold and in control and a deadly force of intelligence and skill and quiet ruthlessness, Sirius was all anger and hot fury and explosion. She just hoped he wouldn’t explode along the way, or take anyone else down with him. Watching him now, she was worried, in the back of her mind; there would be more worry, if she wasn’t focused and in work-and-danger mode. ”Remember that we are a team,” she said, softer, and briefly unable to forget the argument of the previous night as she said it. Because although he had lied and they had fought and, beyond what was going on just then, she was upset with him, that didn’t matter just then; she still trusted him. They were a team. And Sirius had to remember that, instead of going solo and rogue with this. After letting that hang there for a moment, she picked up as much as she could and charmed the rest to hover in piles. Leaving him with a last sharp look and the unspoken direction to follow her, she marched back out of the office and into the main office, all the files following her. She was in the extreme work mode now, compartmentalizing her worry about Sirius and Juliette, her anger, and the emotional baggage of the previous day. That also meant that she was determined, ruthless, and unstoppable, hyper-focused and beyond any of the other problems in her life.

[James Sirius Potter]

Once he was in the office it was only seconds between downing almost half his flask of whiskey and opening up dozens of files, which with the help of his wand was done in no time. He stood over them taking in every last detail of the photographs they already had – it definitely wasn’t the same place he had kept Ethan – though the style of the building should be similar – an old ranch home, an old mansion – anywhere that would have an absolutely huge basement, cellar or dungeon would be somewhere they needed to check – but oh God how many of those places were sitting before him already? Three? Four? Six even? It was going to take ages to narrow it all down – but he was making mental notes on which places seemed to be most likely as he looked over it all.

Only a minute or so after he had gotten there had he heard Claire start barking orders out in their main office – and he couldn’t help but feel a small bit of satisfaction in hearing it, simply because he knew they were actually getting somewhere. The scarier Claire became, the faster the team would assemble with every last thing they could possibly need. After a few more minutes, he heard Claire enter their private office and she came up to him, informing him there were more files stashed away that would be useful – and then caught him up on everything he had told the aurors out in the other room.

Then she started to gather up all the files – making piles and organizing them even further – his mind was still rushing a thousand miles a minute, making it hard to focus the way he needed to. He just kept thinking back to that photograph of Juliette – to all the things he knew Blackwell could be doing right now – and the rage kept pushing at him, pushing him closer and closer back to the brink of losing it – but he couldn’t let it happen – he needed to be here. In times like this, Sirius knew for a fact he was not the lead on this case, Claire was – and if it had been anyone else whose family member was missing he would have told them they were off the case entirely.

Luckily, Claire clearly didn’t want to leave him behind on this – though she continued to remind him that he needed to stay calm and focused – even just a look could say it all coming from her and their eyes had met briefly as she entered the room and again now. ”You don’t get to be reckless. You can’t be irrational. You can’t get out of control,” she said, her voice even but forceful, allowing for no argument. “I know that is asking a lot, and I know you’re probably still going to be all of those things. But listen to me, and listen to the others, and try, please, to not get yourself killed.”

Arms folded across his chest, Sirius averted his eyes back to the array of files she had been gathering up and he stayed silent for a moment. Then he finally took a breath, then said, ”It is a lot to ask… You know I won’t try to do any of those things – and I certainly won’t try to get killed… I’m no good to anyone dead, right?” In all honesty, he truly wanted to promise her that he would be able to stay focused the entire time, that he would follow the plan by-the-book and that he could do this like the professional he is supposed to be – but right now every fiber of his being wanted to rush in and be the reckless, impulsive, furious wreck that his previous state had been leading to – only the thought that Claire and Juliette would be left without him if he were to get himself killed seemed to hold him back – he couldn’t let them experience anymore loss either.

It was taking all he had to stay at this deadly calm exterior – but if he broke it then he wouldn’t be able to get it back and that couldn’t happen; at least not yet. ”This is as good as I’m going to get, but I can do this Claire. Everyone is coming home alive today, except Blackwell,” he said, dangerous intent still in his tone – but trying his best to convince her that he wasn’t going to do something insane intentionally – and that he would do everything in his power to keep himself from going off the deep end once they were finally face to face with Blackwell – just the thought of it sent a shiver up his spine – he had never set out with the intent to kill before, but he was pretty sure that the feeling he had now was exactly what that must feel like.

”Remember that we are a team,” she told him and at this, his eyes met hers and he nodded with clear understanding on his face. He wasn’t going to run off mid-plan and try to take over due to impatience or anything else of the sort – he would follow her lead, he would stick with the team and the plan and they would get his daughter out of there safely – end of story. There were no words exchanged after that, but Claire made it clear enough – and Sirius hoped she knew he was doing his damnedest to stay here in reality – and not letting his fury and rage distract him from what needed to be done to be able to save his daughter.

Finally Claire gathered up as many files as she could carry, using a charm on the rest to have them hover in piles and brought everything out to the main office area and gave Sirius a look that indicated he should follow her – and he did. As she was getting all the files organized onto the desks in the middle of the room however, a silvery blur came swooping through the offices – it was a patronus, taking the form of a hawk, and it landed in the middle of their pile of files to relay its message.

In Blaine’s voice – though likely unrecognized by anyone except maybe Sirius – the hawk said, ”Mr. Potter – He has Juliette – We’re at an old Victorian ranch in Cheshire he calls his summer home – Juliette is in the cellar, concealed in a hidden room for safety. I’m going to take out as many guards as I can – please come quickly.” and just as quickly as it had shown up, the hawk faded away shortly after delivering the message.

With this new information processing in his head, Sirius felt his fists clench tightly once again – one hand still around his wand. He wondered only for a second if it was because of him or this Blaine kid that Juliette had been kidnapped by Blackwell – but he pushed those thoughts aside – the kid had said he was taking out guards – he was already there? It all caught up to him by the time the patronus hawk had faded and he looked up at Claire with a dark smile – they just got their location. ”Do we know of more than one Cheshire location?” he asked her as he leaned over the desk now tearing through files hoping to find something on this place.

They were one step closer to finding Juliette – once they had the file on the home – if they had one – with a layout of the place hopefully on hand – he knew Claire would have a plan in no time and they could move. His heart only raced faster, the adrenaline picking up again as he looked at file after file trying to find the one they needed.

[Claire Pierce]

One day this would all be over. Days and weeks and months and, eventually, years would go by without serious problems. They would be back to the smaller-scale issues of her early years as an auror and of the way things had been while she was growing up. She would get up with Sirius each day, calmly get ready and go to work and spend enjoyable weekends with Sirius and the family. They could trade in the danger and worries for time of relaxation and fun; she'd write and read more, watch her favorite team's matches, and spend long days with her father and their beloved adopted family. Maybe she would sleep more (at least a bit more). She would certainly smile and laugh more, and maybe she would even get her typical mischief back while there would be less cynicism in her. Maybe she wouldn't scream at people at work and storm around the office in search of answers for justice and revenge like she was now. She had to believe the day was coming, and soon.

If she wasn't so laser focused just then, maybe she would be thinking of that; she occasionally caught herself thinking of it while reading a particularly depressing article in the morning paper or studying a case file for an especially dark figure she was hunting down. She hadn't been able to avoid thinking of it the previous day, as she studied those photographs of herself. Nobody would be stalking her and taking photos of her for threats in the safe future she was working toward. But she couldn't think of any of that at the moment. Instead, she was extremely concentrated on the task at hand; there was no room for anything else in her head then.

But she couldn't help reminding him to be safe and to try to think rather than crashing into everything recklessly. It was pretty pointless, she knew, but it had to be said anyways, even though she had a feeling he would make her angry - or worried - about five seconds into the situation. Across from her, his arms were crossed and he was silent until saying, "It is a lot to ask… You know I won’t try to do any of those things – and I certainly won’t try to get killed… I’m no good to anyone dead, right?" It was all she was going to get from him, and she knew that. It wasn't a promise, but she had never really gotten one of those. There had been promises before, which he had broken, so she wasn't really caught up on the promise. What mattered more to her was if he was going to act like his typical idiot self, reckless and irrational and with thoughts of invincibility, combined with his blind rage. "Certainly not. Don't be an idiot, then," she snapped. If she hadn't been sorting through files, hands moving fast and her eyes on labels and headers, she would have crossed her arms like him and glared at him over the desks.

”This is as good as I’m going to get, but I can do this Claire. Everyone is coming home alive today, except Blackwell,” he said then, as much of a promise as she had gotten in a long time, and almost more than she had expected. "Good. I know you can do this," she said, something that might have been some kind of reassuring but came out closer to curt. When he nodded his understanding about them as a team, Claire nodded back and let out a breath she had been holding, then she turned on her heel to leave. The files landed on the desks that her team was assembled around, and now she distributed stacks of files and set everyone to work. Sirius had been studying the files for any location clues when she came in, so she said to him, brisk and abrupt, "Write down anything you've already thought of," and gesturing to the nearby board. She threw him a marker without a glance, trusting he caught it, while flipping a file open with her other hand, then yanking off her heeled shoes - it had been a work day without field work, after all, and there had been important meetings ahead of her - and tossing them onto her discarded coat at the same time as scanning a file of a known accomplice. A better pair of shoes was waiting in her office for precisely this kind of situation.

Minutes later, a patronus swooped into the office, a silver streak that landed in front of her, Sirius somewhere behind her, and took the shape of a hawk as silence fell. Blaine, she quickly surmised. He provided some details - "We’re at an old Victorian ranch in Cheshire he calls his summer home – Juliette is in the cellar, concealed in a hidden room for safety" - before pleading for them to come quickly. While her team began talking all at once, grabbing papers and talking over each other about known country homes, Sirius was tearing through files and asking her, ”Do we know of more than one Cheshire location?” Someone else answered, listing any possible acquaintance or accomplice who lived anywhere near there. However, Claire had stilled, blankly staring at the folder that was still in her hand. Instead of racing through the mess of files, she was going through her mental files, that encyclopedia - that endless file room, really - in her head. She didn't need the physical files just then; they weren't enough for her, when she could flick back through the wealth of information in her head.

While Sirius and her team were frantic, she was motionless and silent... until the moment she broke into movement, nearly running to her beloved, organized, extensive file room. It was a ridiculous scene, watching her run there barefoot and then, if they could have seen, digging through a box deep into the room until she pulled out a group of files from a few very old cases and returned, still composed but that wild energy in her eyes. Dropping into a chair in front of a desk someone had been wise enough to quickly clear for her when she hurried away and back, she didn't explain or answer the questions of the team around her, but instead spread the files out and tore through them until she found what she had known what would be there. A brief mention, buried in an old case from ten years ago, of a location. "Find out exactly where this is," she ordered to the room at large while reexamining the entire set of folders for any other mention or information. Grimly triumphant, she found a second confirmation in a file from twelve years ago. Her obsessive nature and habits paid off, even the long days and nights of looking for any links about her mother's death, closer to when these files were created; nobody had probably looked at them in years now, but her memory did serve her well.