Oh, Dear Old Claire

Daniel's head snapped up, his eyes narrowing. Someone was at the door. He moved quickly, making his way back to the entrance, opening the heavy door to step out into the basement. The banging continued, loud and desperate.

He climbed the stairs two at a time, reaching the front door, and paused, his hand resting on the knob. He knew who it was. He knew even before he opened the door.

Claire.

He opened the door, and there she was, her face pale, her breath visible in the frigid air. She looked terrible—her clothes were torn, her face bruised, blood trickling from a cut on her cheek. She was shaking, her eyes wide as she looked at him.

"Daniel," she said, her voice trembling. "Please... I need your help."

Daniel's jaw clenched. He looked at her, at the injuries on her face, the desperation in her eyes. She was hurt. She needed him.

And yet, a part of him couldn't help but doubt. She'd claimed she was prepared, that she'd been stockpiling. She was smart, resourceful—so why was she here, looking like this? It didn't add up.

But as he looked at her, the system activated, the faint bar above her head glowing brighter than ever. It was almost as if it was urging him to let her in, to make her his ally.

He sighed, stepping aside. "Come in," he said, his voice gruff.

Claire stumbled inside, her body shivering as she crossed the threshold. Daniel shut the door behind her, locking it securely before turning to face her.

"What happened?" he asked, his tone guarded.

Claire looked up at him, her eyes wide, tears welling up. "I... I was mugged," she said, her voice breaking. "My home. . . .they took everything. All my supplies, my gear. I tried to fight them, but..."

Daniel frowned, his eyes scanning her face. Something about her story didn't sit right with him. She was a fighter—he could see it in her eyes, in the way she carried herself. She wouldn't have gone down easily.

But she was hurt. She was standing in front of him, bruised and battered, and he couldn't just turn her away. He sighed, the weight of the situation settling on his shoulders.

"Come on," he said, nodding toward the basement. "Let's get you cleaned up."

The bunker was warm, the artificial lights casting a soft glow over the room as Daniel led Claire inside. She looked around, her eyes widening as she took in the sight of the underground fortress.

"Wow," she whispered, her voice filled with awe. "This is... incredible."

Daniel didn't respond. He led her to the small medical area, gesturing for her to sit on the cot as he grabbed a first aid kit. He knelt in front of her, his eyes focused as he began cleaning the cut on her cheek.

Claire watched him, her gaze intense. There was something different about her—something that hadn't been there before. She seemed... unhinged, almost. Her eyes were too wide, her smile too forced. And then there was the way she looked at him, her gaze lingering a moment too long, her breathing hitching as he touched her skin.

Daniel finished cleaning her wound, stepping back. "You'll be fine," he said, his voice curt. "Just rest for a bit."

But Claire didn't move. She reached out, her fingers brushing against his arm, her eyes locking onto his. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice soft. "I don't know what I would have done without you."

Daniel tensed, the system's notification still echoing in his mind. [Potential Partner Detected: Claire. Full potential can be unlocked.] He looked at her, at the way she was looking at him, and he could feel the weight of the decision pressing down on him.

He needed allies. He needed strength. And Claire... the system insisted she could be powerful. If he gave her the power, she could be an asset—something that could help him survive, that could make them both stronger.

But the cost... the cost was intimacy, trust—things he had sworn to avoid, things that had gotten him killed before.

He turned away, taking a deep breath, trying to steady himself. He couldn't afford to make a mistake. Not now. Not when everything was at stake.

As the hours passed, the bunker grew quieter, the only sound the low hum of the generator. The temperature outside continued to drop, the world above freezing over as The Great Cold took hold. Daniel sat in the main room of the bunker, his eyes focused on the monitors that displayed the camera feeds from above.

Claire was sitting across from him, her eyes still wide as she looked around, taking in the sight of the supplies, the defenses, the preparations. She was impressed—he could see it in her expression.

"You've really thought of everything, haven't you?" she said, her voice filled with wonder.

Daniel shrugged, not looking at her. "Just doing what I have to do."

Claire was silent for a moment, then she leaned forward, her eyes narrowing slightly. "You know, Daniel," she said, her voice soft, almost coaxing, "you're different. You're not like the others. You're... prepared, in a way that no one else is. It's like you knew this was coming."

Daniel stiffened, his eyes narrowing as he turned to look at her. There it was—that probing curiosity, that sharpness that made her dangerous. She was trying to figure him out, trying to get into his head.

"What are you getting at?" he asked, his voice cold.

Claire smiled, a small, knowing smile. "I just think it's interesting," she said, her eyes locked onto his.

Daniel clenched his jaw, the tension in the room growing thick. He didn't respond, his mind racing. He couldn't let her in. He couldn't let her see what he knew, what he was planning.

But the system kept pushing, the glowing bar above her head almost blinding now. She was right there—right in front of him, vulnerable, desperate. And if he gave in, if he let her in, she could be powerful. She could help him survive.

Claire reached out, her fingers brushing against his arm again, her eyes pleading. "Daniel," she whispered, her voice trembling, "please. I don't want to be alone. I need you."

Daniel looked at her, his heart pounding, the weight of the decision pressing down on him. He had sworn to remain detached, to keep his distance. But now, as the world froze over and the system urged him to take the plunge, he found himself hesitating.

Maybe... maybe he couldn't do this alone. Maybe he needed her—just as much as she needed him.

The tension between them grew thick, the cold outside seeping into the bunker, the world above descending into chaos. And as Daniel looked at Claire, at the desperation in her eyes, he knew he was at a crossroads.

He could remain cold, detached, and survive alone.

Or he could take a risk—let her in, give her the power, and face the apocalypse together.

Daniel took a deep breath, his eyes locking onto Claire's.

The choice was his. "Hold on." He decided to take a break.