Ready or Not

Celesse found herself deep in a dream, one of her past, her eyes rapidly moved beneath her lids. The talk with Benjamin must’ve opened up a subconscious well she wasn’t aware of. Her body was sweating like a computer as she cooled herself down. Throughout the night, she shifted many times in the plush chair, but the same dream kept on coming back. She awoke in the middle of the night, confused where she was for a moment before her fuzzy mind came clear of the cobwebs. Then, she remembered the incident and where she was: The Hospital.

Celesse fished the phone from her joggers, seeing the time; 3:30 AM—Devil’s Hour. The shapeshifter moved off the sofa, checking up on Benjamin who’d been asleep the entire time. She slipped by, no noise made as she slipped out of the room unheard. Outside the room, she looked both ways to see the Zombies nowhere in sight. She called Alaric, using the greeting this time.

“Where have you been, Sicarius?” Is the first question, followed by more regarding her target.

“I’m fine, thanks for asking. You’re exceedingly kind.” She sarcastically retorts, before answering, switching to French, “He’s actually not dead as I mentioned in the text. You know Isabella Valerius? She was tasked, I believe- or maybe just royally pissed off that Benjamin killed her dog.”

“Ah, yes. I had a talking with her. She’s…guarded for now. I, unfortunately, have no information regarding if she was contacted to kill him. But I can confirm that she was in a relationship with Harold Gardener.” Alaric retorts on the other end.

“When’s the deadline?” She finally asked the most crucial question.

“A month, at most. Lucien is proving to be difficult to work with. The Council is starting to suspect me, but they won’t say it to my face because of the power I hold over them. Kind of like waving a bone over a dog.” Alaric’s low-hiss could be heard.

“You know Maria’s back in town, right?”

“Oh, I know. While you were away on a date with Mr. Credit. I had her hunted down. She’s breaking laws by being in my city.” Alaric admits.

‘So, that’s what the commotion is all about.’ Celesse’s curious mind satiated with this answer. “I’ll contact you again soon. He was quite easy to charm. I’m making slow progress, but you can count on me getting what you need by the end of the month.” She says the greeting again and ends the call. Yawning, she returned to the room and ended back up on the couch at the foot of Benjamin’s bed. She gave one last look to the sleeping male, a glint of pity in her eyes as she finally went back to sleep.

In the late morning, she finally awoke to find Benjamin gone. At first, she was panicked, looking around, then spotted the badly written note on the bedside table. She walked over, picking it up, and her ears perking up at the sound of running water. Celesse let out a sigh. She slumped back into the chair and pulled out her phone, opting to play some Spider Solitaire.
 
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Benjamin exited the bathroom feeling refreshed and stronger than when he had entered. He glanced over at the couch to find Celesse sitting on the couch, playing on her phone. "Are you still offering a place for me to stay?" he asked her as he went over to the phone to call up the nurse's station and see if they would bring him some scrubs. He was feeling a little more uncomfortable with the shapeshifter's offer now that he realized her refusal to leave his side was not out of concern, but some kind of duty. She obviously had offered the housing arrangements so that she could keep tabs on him. How annoying that he really didn't have much of a choice but to trust her. It would be easy for him to misstep on his own and let the people who were after him know that he was still alive.

He sat down on the edge of the hospital bed, pulling off the medical tape he had used to cover his stitches in the shower. The tape pulled at the skin and was painful, but Benjamin's face didn't so much as twitch. After he'd thrown the old pieces away, he poked at the wound curiously. It had been a clean slice - Isabella's claws were razor-sharp. For a moment he recalled the feeling of her hand under his ribcage, pressing against his organs. It was an unpleasantness he would never forget.

"Are you going to have anything for me to do there, since you're my babysitter and all?" Benjamin half-teased as he looked back at Celesse again. He would go absolutely stark-raving mad if he didn't have anything to do. He was a workaholic, and without something to keep him busy he was bound to get himself in trouble.
 
She finished the game, looking up to see Benjamin up and about. Celesse gives him a firm nod and turns her attention back to the phone. Turns out spider solitaire was more interesting and difficult when you turned on hard mode. Her fingers working across the screen, she gave up after trying to match a 10 to a J not there. Her brain was still behind on her body fully awaking. She laid back in the chair after putting her hair up into a rat’s nest of a bun on her head. She felt like a youth in these times, playing on her phone, though she didn’t know if solitaire was popular as it was back in the early 2000s.

Her gaze flickered from the screen to Benjamin, “Let me get back to you on that.” She retorts, her eyes shifting back to her phone. Celesse’s fingers gracefully danced across the screen to order an espresso frappuccino and 2 bacon, sausage & egg wrap. After placing the order, she switched back to spider solitaire to finish her game. Scratching her chin, she looked back up to Benjamin, shrugging her shoulders. Turns out sleeping on a sofa chair wasn’t comfortable to sleep on. And it also changed her mood the following morning, making her feel out of it than usual. “What do you want to do?” She asked him. She figured it couldn’t hurt to let him do whatever he wanted as long as he was within her sights. ‘I should be getting paid.’ She thought while playing the game.
 
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Benjamin raised an eyebrow as Celesse replied to him shortly. Sounded like someone woke up on the wrong side of the hospital room chair. He glanced at the door as someone knocked, opening it to reveal a nurse with a pair of mint green hospital scrubs.

"Hey wait, you're not supposed to be up and-"

"Thanks," Benjamin said as he pulled the clothes from the nurse's hand, promptly closing the door in his face. People in hospitals were always trying to tell you what you could and could not do, he hated it. Whose grand idea was it anyway to put him in a coma for three days? He hadn't asked for that. Disappearing into the bathroom again he doffed the towel from his shower and changed into the fresh clothes. Not the style he would ever choose for himself, but they at least fit and were not that stupid hospital gown. He was pulling the top down over his head as he stepped back out of the bathroom to hear Celesse's response to his question.

"I'm not good for much except shooting and investigating," Benjamin said with a shrug. "What do you do? Maybe I could follow you around for once instead of vice versa," he said with a snort, picking up a carton of the Chinese food and poking around in it for a moment before determining it was still good to eat.
 
Celesse was matching the cards together on her phone, though she was uncertain if she was doing a suitable job. After dealing another deck of cards, she was on her last and she finally got the failure on the screen when it told her to try a new game. She shrugged, playing a new game like it suggested and went about playing it right this time. A notification shielded off the top of her screen. The Starbucks’ driver was waiting in the lobby. She sat upright again to fully stand. She tucked the phone into her joggers and got up, making her way across the room to open the door.

The Male Nurse from before gave her a knowing look as he produced the bag and coffee in front of her. Celesse gave him a half-hearted smile, taking the coffee and bag. She told him to thank the driver for her and closed the door behind her. Hearing Benjamin responding to her just as she sat back down. Putting the coffee off to the side, she dug into the bag and pulled out both breakfast wraps. First, she broke the straw out and poked it into her cup, taking a long sip before answering the Agent, “Oh, wouldn’t you like to know.” She wagged her finger at him, taking this moment to unwrap the first burrito and take a bite into the deliciousness. Slowly she was feeling like herself. Giving a wink to Benjamin as he picked up leftovers from last night. Technically, Celesse has a daytime job of sorts to earn the money to blow on anything she wanted. For her prime job, let’s just say she wasn’t ready to reveal her cards yet.

She washed the wrap down with another long sip of her coffee, “I tease, Benjamin. I’m no miracle worker like a Doctor or Nurse, but I help design and…” She does the Italian gesture by squeezing her fingers together, “build people’s dream homes. You would like to take notes on how to design your own shack?” She teased.
 
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Benjamin chewed on his cold breakfast thoughtfully. Celesse had finally been honest with him about a few things yesterday, but there was still much more that she was not telling him. She had offered him the potential of more answers, but it was clear that those answers would be at her own discretion. It was frustrating. He felt like a child being put in time-out for something he didn't do. These supernaturals had strength and power way beyond what he could even imagine. Try as he might to find a way out of this situation that involved him surviving and /not/ relying on Celesse, in his mind they all led to disaster.

He couldn't stop thinking about what Harold had called her. Sicarius. She certainly had the prowess to be an assassin. And while his memory of the last few minutes of the encounter with the siren a few days ago were muddled, he was fairly certain she had alluded to Celesse working the same job as her.

Benjamin raised an eyebrow as the shapeshifter revealed her day job. "Pass," he said with a dismissive wave of his hand. When it came to houses everyone had their opinion of what they thought was best, but he knew what he wanted. "Not like I could work on it right now anyway," he said with a shrug. "I could do manual labor for you, though. I've flipped my fair share of houses."
 
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Celesse was already eating her second wrap. Turns out she was far hungry than she expected. While she munched down her breakfast, her other hand continued on her phone. She turned off her notifications for her messages, and phone calls. There’s no way she would answer while Benjamin was still in the room. Which brought up the next question of why he was even up and about? Plenty of rest was what he needed, especially what befell him in the past week. The supernatural always had her ultimate goal at the back of her mind, yet Benjamin was like a coconut and soon—she was hoping—she would get to the delicious drink in the middle of that hard-shelled fruit. Benjamin would take a lot more work and a lot more relating to.

Not only did she have to worry about obtaining what she needed, she also needed the question of whatever this faction war was becoming. Celesse could admit she didn’t know much about the “war” brewing beneath the surface, she took contracts from the faction leaders and did their bidding. She wasn’t really lying to Ben 10 when she said she helped build and design dream homes. Sometimes she was a “house painter” too. She could understand Benjamin’s wanting to leave and rely on his own self. Celesse saw Benjamin like a tired Cat in a cage, pacing back and forth, awaiting the day for release. And she didn’t like to owe people back either.

A smile graced her lips at his response, “What? You don’t like Interior Designing? Architecture is really interesting once you get into it.” She admitted it intrigued her way back before she became a shapeshifter. Just seeing building stack taller than one floor always amazed her. “Ah, you are in no condition to be doing manual labour. No matter how stubborn of a mule you are.” She quirked a brow at him, taking another sip of her coffee, “And you need rest. But if you like, after your healing period because you mortals heal slower than a snail. I can show you how to defend against other supernaturals. You can think of it as manual labour.” She winked.
 
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"Interior decorating is fine," Benjamin said with a shrug, finishing off one carton of cold food and dunking it in the trash. "I just don't want you doing it to my house," he said as he opened the second box of egg rolls, taking a large bite out of one. Celesse was, unfortunately, correct though. While he had more strength today than yesterday, if he pushed himself too hard he was sure he'd end up passing out. He hated being injured. Considering what he had been through, however, he couldn't help but be impressed by his recovery. He'd read in his research in the office that this particular hospital was run by zombies. Due to pop culture, Benjamin would have assumed that their hunger for brains would make them rather terrible doctors, but they had clearly done very well.

"Fine, no manual labor," he said, though she suddenly had his full attention as she mentioned defensive training. "You're serious?" Benjamin asked. Who better to help him learn how to deal with all the creatures who were immensely stronger than he than one who had proven she could taken them on in hand-to-hand combat, and could even become them? "That's something I'll hold you to," he said, pointing at her with his chopsticks.

"Now, I'm not staying here any longer. I'm on my feet, I can walk and eat and drink and piss on my own, I don't need to be here anymore," he said with a note of finality in his voice. Benjamin wasn't going to stay here a minute longer than he absolutely had to. He could 'rest' somewhere else. Anywhere else but a hospital. "Do you have a place for me, or do I need to find a hotel?" he asked as he pulled his phone off the bedside table. He wasn't demanding it of her, he just wanted clarification.
 
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Finishing her own wrap, she washed it down with another drink of her coffee, tossing the wrappers into the bag beside her. She snickered, “Don’t worry, your shack is safe since it’s technically not yours, now that you’re dead.” She reminded him. This prompted her to stop playing her game and think for a moment, “I can have the house now that it’s back up on the housing market…soon, I should say.” She joked. The smile never returning as she turned back to her game. Celesse found teasing Benjamin was never ending when he always gave her the reactions she was looking for.

She took another sip of her coffee, finishing it and put the empty cup in her bag. Celesse felt herself again. The espresso had double times the kick than usual. “Good,” She retorts, “You were at a toddler’s point of fighting against another supernatural, anyhow.” She winked at him, teasing him further. In seriousness, she would at least teach him the basics. That way she didn’t have to be there to protect him. And she wouldn’t have to feel like a Warrior Knight coming to save her Prince in distress.

Celesse continued her game, matching cards quicker this time and able to beat it under two minutes. She had a winning streak, and she wasn’t about to lose against her own phone. “Okay, just be sure to bring the adult diapers this time.” She teased before thinking about his answer. Celesse would answer honestly, “Well, you can’t come back to my penthouse I have in Seattle, it’s in Vampire territory and as far as I remember, you’re a wanted meal. The second place I have is my apartment just outside Seattle, on Mercer Island. It won’t be as glamorous as your quaint little shack, but it’s got four walls and a roof.” She retorts, “A dead man can’t walk around without the leeches sniffing you out first.” She reminded him, “I know the idea of staying with me is likely not at the top of your list, but it has two bedrooms; mine and the guest bedroom. Not that I ever bring guests over. You’ll be the first.” She admitted. The Guest bedroom had all the accommodations, it was untouched except for when she cleaned it of dust and put in fresh bedding each week. Celesse figured it was something to do to past her time between contracts.

“Oh, but I should warn you,” She said, pausing her game to look at him, “I hope you like cats.”
 
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Benjamin paused in his breakfast as the weight of what Celesse was saying sank in. He was dead. That meant his bank account, his credit cards, his house... everything would be frozen. He wouldn't have access to a thing. He had no will - there was no one to leave anything to. All of his stuff would just vanish. And in the meantime, he would have no way to purchase anything. Clothes, weapons, ammunition... it was all gone. The balance on his Grubhub account was dangerously low. Soon, he wouldn't even be able to afford food. He looked back up at her as she continued to tease him, his eyes narrowed.

"I like to think I did pretty well against a werewolf, three vampires and a siren, all things considered," he said, dumping the rest of the food containers in the trash as he prepared to leave. Then, he realized, they'd probably repossess his car as well. Being dead sucked. Except for the fact that it meant he wasn't actually dead.

Mercer Island...? That was closer to Seattle than his house, but still out of supernatural territory. He imagined it must be safe, too, if Celesse lived there on a regular basis. Why she had a penthouse in Seattle as well was beyond him. Also, did interior and architectural design pay enough for a penthouse in the city...? "That sounds just fine," Benjamin said as he leaned back against the bedside table, folding his arms across his chest. As she mentioned cats, however, his nose twitched. "Just how many do you have?" he asked warily. She looked like she could be a crazy cat lady.

"Any chance I could get you to dig up a lock box from the back yard of my house?" He asked, wondering just how far she would be willing to go to appease him. He didn't understand her angle. He didn't understand what she needed him for.
 
“It’s cute you think you stood well against the others. But I acknowledge your will to live.” She retorts, “You were a rag doll.” She winked, not really being sarcastic even if her words implied it. Celesse recalled the first fight he had against Harold, he held against his own when he had a gun that was. She was still petty that he killed her target. This made her think of the silver bullets he used on the werewolf. It was odd how much shapeshifters and werewolves had in common, but shapeshifters had the upper hand in the obvious department. Celesse would be sure to make a note of not to tell him about how she can potentially die. There was a few times she had a brush of death, though she always came out battered and alive.

Celesse continued with her game, sparing a look over at Benjamin, a smile gracing her lips. “Don’t worry. I only have one to take care of.” Celesse got up, switching from her game to her photos. Not that she had anything else than pictures of her Turkish Angora. She picked a photo of him in a standing position. “This is he.” She shows him to Benjamin, “He’s a bit sassy. Don’t be surprised if he hisses at you.” She chuckles, “He’s only used to me and my neighbours.” On the subject of neighbours, a light went off in her head, “Ah, I should also tell you, my neighbours are all mortals like yourself. My closest neighbour, Mrs. Evans, is an elderly lady. She’s taking care of my companion.” She pulled her phone back to look through the photos as she returned to the chair.

As she sat down, she was confused at his request, “Need your diaries kept safe?” She joked, “Depends if it’s worth getting my hair wet again.” She joked further, “These thousand-dollar extensions look better when dry.” She smiled. It was all a joke of course, she never needed extensions.
 
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Benjamin folded his arms across his chest, glowering at Celesse. "I suppose you have a list of other humans you know who have faced off against that many supernaturals and survived?" he asked dryly. Sure, it was only because of Celesse's intervention that he had survived... all three times. But still. There must be something special about him if it kept her coming back. Maybe it was the tattoos. She was hot for his ink. Benjamin could have snickered to himself at the thought.

As she brought up the pictures of the cat he leaned forward to see them, frowning faintly. "Well, I suppose I can't complain. I'm grateful you've restrained yourself to just one, though," he teased with a smirk, leaning back against the bedside table again. "Your plan is to hide in among the mortals then, huh...?" Benjamin couldn't help but wonder what would happen if one of the several supernaturals that wanted him really dead showed up in an apartment complex full of mortals... all the more reason he needed his lockbox.

"If my diaries were in there, then they'd already be safe," Benjamin said, as close to a joke as he was going to get. "It's a hundred grand in cash and a pistol," he responded seriously this time. "It's under the firepit. Six feet down, fireproof lockbox," he explained, waiting for her answer.
 
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Celesse smiled at him, “Yes, I do.” She lived this long to know many more who outlived their opponents. Being supernatural didn’t mean you were out of the clutches of Death’s hands, but spared longer than the mortals. Benjamin was just lucky that Celesse was there to intervene with Death’s plans. But only because she still had work to do with him, for a reason that would take longer than she would need to obtain the information from her target.

She gave him a light chuckle, “Oh, he’s just one. Back in my younger days, hundreds surrounded me, so yes. You’re lucky.” She winked at the agent. Giving him another when he brought up her apartment, “Well, no. Where I live is…neutral territory. No one can claim Mercer Island or fight on it - and you mortals are great at masking my scent.” She pretended to sniff the air, “…and let me tell you now, you don’t smell as great as you think you do.” She teased.

Celesse turned from her phone to look at him, “Well…” She looks up to the ceiling, thinking if it was worth the consequences or not. “Makes sense, I suppose. You must run from your own ghosts, eh?” She joked. Celesse knew whether if he had a tragic past not on the file she read up on him. “But I will go there,” She scratches under her chin again, “If my schedule allows it.” She turns her attention back to her game, “I’m not saying I won’t go, but...a maybe.”
 
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Benjamin quirked an eyebrow at a response he wasn't expecting. Really, was it so common for mere mortals to survive against supernaturals bent on murder...? He needed to significantly up his game, then. He was starting to get antsy, waiting in the hospital where people died before you had a chance to say goodbye. And in borrowed clothes, no less. The mint green of the hospital scrubs was not a colour he enjoyed.

"I just took a shower," Benjamin said dryly at Celesse's attempt to rile him up again. He was starting to get frustrated. He was willing to submit himself to her help if it was necessary, but he wasn't interested in being babysat, just sitting back and waiting for her to come around and take from him whatever it was she needed. He stepped toward her and gently, but firmly, pushed her phone down below her line of sight. "Look, I understand you're having fun here but I'm fucking dead," he said, his dark eyes on her. "I don't really have a lot more to lose. I'm not staying here a moment longer. I'm getting an Uber and either you can give them the address to your apartment, or I'll go home. I don't care if they're watching me or not. I've got a lot more than a pistol in that house." Benjamin watched her for a moment more and then he let go of her phone, taking a step back.

"I'm tired, I'm hungry, and I'm in pain. All I want is to live my normal life again," he closed his eyes and sighed. "If I don't do something, I'm going to go insane. I understand you need something from me, but I'm not going to just sit still and wait for you to extract whatever it is you're looking for," Benjamin told her. He was sure she was going to come back at him with another series of jests and teasing, but his fuse was growing short. He'd rather die in his stupid ugly beach house than in this hospital.
 
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“Alright, alright tiger. Retract the claws and learn to purr again.” She typed in the address into the messages with Benjamin and hit the send button. Celesse held back her musing antics and just gave him a lopsided smile. She stood to her full height and tucked her phone away into her joggers. In a split second, she gathered all of her things and piled them into a black sack, tying the red strings laced into the plastic. “I sent you the address, make yourself at home. I’ll fetch your things for you, even a saucer of milk on the way too.” She headed towards the door and let her hand rest on the handle for a moment.

She looked over her shoulder, “I’ll get you something to do. In the meantime, you need to rest and regain your strength.” Her smile never wavering even as he brought up the subject of her needing him for something, she shrugs, “You’re not wrong or right, but I’ll give you crutches, at least, before sending you back out on your own. Like I said, you shouldn’t trust anyone but yourself, tiger.” She chuckled as she walked out of the room. Soon as the door closed, she vanished again, like when she was ‘interrogated’ back at his shack of a house.
 
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What was wrong with him? Benjamin knew he wasn't very socially adept. Isolating yourself from people would do that to you. It was easy for him to tell the shift in Celesse's tone and body language, though. He wasn't sure what he had been expecting... it wasn't like she was a friend. She was just the shapeshifter who kept showing up to keep him from dying. He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket and took a look at the address. "Thanks," he sighed and pressed his palm into his forehead as she got ready to leave.

He looked back up as she spoke again, weary and wary. How great would it be to be able to bounce back from near death just by drinking a couple fingers of whiskey like her? "I get it," Benjamin said as Celesse walked off. She was putting him in a pretty awful position, though, telling him not to trust anyone and then forcing him to believe at least for the time being she didn't mean him any harm. He watched as the door closed behind her, realizing suddenly that he needed to find out what a shapeshifter's weakness was. That was one she wasn't likely to share with him, and he might need it when this was all over.

Benjamin watched the door for a moment and then looked back down at his phone, putting in a request for an Uber through the app. Hopefully he had enough cash in his wallet to pay for it. Otherwise he'd have to convince the driver to take his watch instead.

It took him a while to convince the nurses at the desk that he was leaving. They were floored and kept trying to get him back into that stuffy room, telling him they wouldn't be able to get a doctor to sign his release. He didn't care. He'd leave without a release - he'd spent enough time in a hospital to know that you could pretty much do what you wanted. The fuss was just so that the hospital wouldn't be sued when you died on the sidewalk on the way out.

Simply stepping out of the building and taking in the fresh air lifted a weight off Benjamin's shoulders. It was sprinkling, of course, with low rumblings of thunder in the distance to suggest a heavier rainfall in the future. As the black car approached with his driver he slid into the back seat, rattling Celesse's address off from memory. The driver tried to strike up a conversation, asking him if being a nurse was difficult - Benjamin realized he was likely making assumptions based off the scrubs he was wearing. "Sorry, man, I'm pretty tired," was all he said before he ignored the rest of the driver's attempts at camaraderie, staring blankly out the window instead.

Once at the apartment building on Mercer Island, Benjamin forked over the rest of his cash. It was just enough to cover the fare, but with a measly tip. "Sorry," he apologized with a shrug, showing the driver his empty wallet. As the black car drove off Benjamin turned again to look at the building. He was suddenly extremely tired just thinking about making his way up to her apartment. It was amazing how much energy dying would suck out of you.

When Benjamin finally made it to Celesse's door, he turned the handle and looked around in the dim light. He didn't want to dig into her things or snoop around her apartment so he simply crashed on the couch and was soon fast asleep to the sound of the drumming rain on the windows.
 
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Celesse discarded the bag into one of those large green dumpsters, conveniently found at the back of the hospital. It only contained old scrubs and food wrappers. After taking care of her garbage, she dipped underneath the small shelter provided at the back of the hospital and whipped out her phone. Only this time to call up her own Uber and waited until her driver pulled up. It must’ve looked like she was just another hospital worker just getting off of work. Either way, she didn’t care and climbed into the back, giving her the address to Benjamin’s shack location. Celesse watched as the scenery change then back to her phone, with hesitation she turned the notifications on, but kept it on mute.

The one message that caught her attention was one from an anonymous number. She opened up her inbox and tapped on it, “They know.” Was all it said. When she tried replying back to it, it said the number was not a working number. It stressed Celesse out, not from Benjamin’s soured mood or situation, but these cryptic messages sent her way. This is what Ben must’ve felt when it came to what information she filtered out to him. With traffic being this heavy, it gave her time to look over messages from the others.

Most of it was just inquiries about her whereabouts. It seems the Zombies at the hospital didn’t report her being there or they just wanted to avoid a fight breaking out in their institution. Either way, it benefited her. Celesse replied to work emails that pertained to her day job, the one she mentioned before. By the time the ride was over; she was finishing up with the last email. She climbed out, paid the fare with a tip, and waited for them to leave. Once they rounded the block, she turned to the shack by the ocean side. There was something off about this place, not that it was devoid of any light or activity, but the air. She tucked her phone back into her joggers and walked down the drive that dipped further towards the front entrance.

Celesse stopped in her tracks when she was ready to grab the handle. The scent was distinct. There was a faint scent of Benjamin’s but there was another. Either someone was just here, or they’re still here. This put her senses all on edge, heightening them to pick up on any sounds. She turned the handle and kicked the door open, splintering it off the hinges in doing so. To her dismay, there was no one there, but the smell was strong now. The bank must’ve not been told about his “passing” yet since the electricity was still on when she flicked on the switch. It lit up to the place being trashed. Someone went through his things while he was on death’s doorstep. She stepped further into the shack, letting the door remain open as it drizzled outside.

In the middle of the house, she sniffed and picked up on the exact smell of wet dog…and Demon? This puzzled her. Why would there be a demon here? Her brows knitted together. Whatever they were looking for they didn’t find it or maybe they did, who knows? She would have to question Ben 10 about it later. True to her word, she did as Benjamin told her; the lock box was deep in the earth’s crust beneath the firepit. She shook the dirt off it as much as possible, placing it on the coffee table. Then, bringing her phone out to call up someone else who would bring her back to her apartment. Celesse figured it would be too suspicious to take an Uber.

Once she hung up, she took a seat on one couch, remembering that night when Benjamin called her over after the incident took place at the club. She got to remember the smaller, finer details. While Benjamin was still naïve about the factions, he didn’t know he was being watched. Well, they were both being watched. Across from his shack, there was another house that had a good overlook into his. The windows weren’t even covered properly, Benjamin likely was a horrible interior decorator. Celesse had a hunch that the neighbour next door was likely a spy…but for who?

She wouldn’t have much time to look into it when a horn came blaring from outside. Celesse grabbed the lock box and rush out of the house, turning the lights off and shutting the door as best she could before dipping into the car. She brought the lock box and placed it on her lap, shutting the door and giving a nod. “Bringing dead bodies in boxes now, Celesse?” Her friend said, giving her a quirked eyebrow. Celesse was great at diverting the conversation back on her friend, just to keep her talking for the duration of the ride. Once they reached her apartment complex, Celesse bid her friend bye and headed up to her apartment via the elevator. It was late and nobody was out and about, anyway. She retreated to her apartment with the lock box in tow, entering to find a lump sleeping away on her couch.

Celesse shut the door, placing the lock box on the ground beside her door. Celesse intended on keeping her promise to the sleeping tiger in her den. She brought out a saucer and filled it with milk. After putting the milk back into the fridge, she brought it over spilling nothing and put it on the coffee table with a note, saying; Drink up angry tiger! — after putting a proper blanket to cover him.

She snickered and headed into her bedroom. Celesse figured she could get her cat in the morning after the angry tiger settled down first. Her cat wasn’t welcoming of guests she found whenever she brought over strangers to her apartment. The shapeshifter was glad to be home, but that didn’t mean she could get any work done. Not without the sleeping tiger lurking through her stuff. It’s not like she kept it all out in the open. It was on a computer, mostly. In the event, if her hard drive was to be taken, it was on a timer to format itself, even blow itself up. One could never be too prepared in this line of work. Celesse retrieved proper sleeping attire from her wardrobe and headed into the adjoined bathroom in her bedroom. Perhaps it was luck or her charming her landlord into giving her the 2-bedroom, 2-bathroom apartment, but she landed it without difficulty. She was never late on her rent, anyway. She took a quick, hot shower and changed into the attire, then returned into her bedroom to get some work done via her phone.
 
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Benjamin slept like a rock through the night. He was normally a light sleeper who would have woken up the moment the door handle was turned, but he was still recovering and likely would be for a couple weeks yet. Toward the end of his sleep he began to dream.

In the dream he was immobilized, stuck. Out of the blackness before him, a hand reached out. It snaked under the pale turquoise scrubs and began scratching at the stitches on his wound. He found he couldn't move, couldn't speak, couldn't breathe. Was he dead? He felt the stitches pop one by one, the thread drawn from his skin. Then came the uncomfortably familiar feeling of the hand snaking its way inside his body, reaching up, up, up to a heart that wasn't beating. That was when he became aware of something squirming between the phantom fingers inside him. The creature was released and it burrowed into his heart and wriggled and multiplied until his whole body was filled with maggots eating him from the inside out.

Benjamin woke suddenly in a cold sweat, sitting up and gripping at his chest. His heart was racing. It took him a moment to remember where he was, and slowly his body began to relax again. He was unaccustomed to bad dreams. The psychologists he'd been required to meet with after coming off the battlefield had told him they would be frequent, but that had not been Benjamin's experience. He chalked this current anomaly up to likely fighting off a low-grade fever from his body's attempt to repair itself. He had several antibiotic prescriptions he needed to fulfill once Celesse retrieved his lockbox.

Benjamin wiped the sweat from his forehead on his shoulder, taking stock of his surroundings. At some point Celesse must have arrived. He had a new appreciation for her when he recognized she had covered him with a blanket while he'd been sleeping - until his gaze landed on the saucer of milk and the note. "Yeah, fuck you very much," he muttered, letting a heavy breath out through his nose and leaning back against the couch cushions with his eyes closed. His stomach growled. Benjamin opened one eye to look at the saucer again. He was starving. But first, he had to piss.

He tried to be considerate of other people and their things, and he didn't want to take advantage of the help Celesse was offering him, so he was careful not to snoop or pry as he located the bathroom. Once done he returned to the kitchen, figuring this was the one area where she surely wouldn't have anything to hide. He began opening cupboards, looking for some cereal or oatmeal to have with the milk.
 
Celesse put her phone on its charger, the juice drained in replying to messages. Sometimes she felt like an infamous celebrity in the supernatural world, but that was mostly untrue. She resorted to her computer and got work there done faster before she started hearing the rummaging of someone going through her cupboards. She locked her computer, turned the monitors off, and flicked on the tv to some morning show to appear as if she was watching it this entire time.

She opened her door, down the small corridor and into the conjoining spacious kitchen and living area. Finding the tiger awake and about, she padded softly over and sat on one chair, her elbows leaning on the kitchen island. Celesse’s cupboards held the usual plates, wine glasses—perhaps too many—and bowls with silverware in the bottom drawers. Benjamin would have an arduous time locating any proper food. Celesse found it more convenient to order takeout than cook every night. Even her fridge was mostly empty except for condiments, water, alcohol, and milk. The other half of her cupboards were all filled with cat foods for her Turkish Angora.

“Find what you’re looking for?” She spoke to break the silence. Celesse was curious what he was looking for, the obvious answer being food. But what kind of food? She didn’t even have cereal. The milk was mostly to pour into her coffee in the mornings or make chocolate milk with. She really wasn’t keen on cooking, but if the occasion called for it, she could cook up a feast if she wanted. “I forgot to tell you, my cat’s name is Aelurus…and I eat take out.” She smiled.
 
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Empty. Empty. Empty. One cupboard after another. What the hell was with this woman...? Benjamin kept cycling between being massively hungry and being overwhelmingly tired, and both of those things made him grumpy. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Celesse appearing from the hallway and continued rummaging through the kitchen. Finally at the last cupboard he grabbed one of the tins of Fancy Feast Salmon and Ocean Whitefish and tossed it onto the counter so it slid to a stop in front of her. "Really?" he said dryly, placing his hands on the bar and leaning against his arms as he watched her. "A grown woman - hell, a multiple centuries-old woman - and you can't keep oatmeal or even eggs on hand? Must be nice, being able to survive on nothing but alcohol. You know that's like a mortal's dream, right?" Benjamin sighed, closing his eyes and rubbing his forehead.

Aelurus. What a pretentious name for a pretentious animal. "Did you find my lockbox?" he asked, calming himself down a little. He wasn't used to relying on others. Benjamin was abnormally independent, and it had worked out well for him up until recently. But now he needed clothes, food, ammo, and something to do with the copious amounts of time he had on his hands. What he wanted was to go back and work on his house. But of course, that was impossible now.
 
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