shift | jack kline

four

CHAPTER FOUR - THE MAD MAN

Thea barely opened her eyes when she quickly shut them, barely catching a glimpse of the clock on her bedside table. She murmured out curses as her body tossed and turned on the fleecy mattress. Her muddled brain slowly interpreted the time on the clock before she flipped her body upright. She scratched at her head, her eyes still closed as she called out.

"Britt?" No answer. Her hand fell from her head, slapping down onto the mattress in a cross manner. She repeated herself, louder. "Britt?!"

Silence. The brunette rubbed at her tired eyes, continuing to grumble angrily.

"Oh, my god, Brittany. I know your bitch ass can hear me, you twat. Why didn't you wake me?"

Her eyes finally open to see that she wasn't at the Dunbar home. She scanned her surroundings in heedful bewilderment. It took her a second to remember what happened over the last couple of days.

She remembered the police station. She remembered meeting Jack and Clark, meeting Sam and Dean, Donatello. She remembered the gold light, and the man in her bedroom, when she was taken and brought to this world.

Thea shook her head at that last memory, wanting to block it out. Swinging her legs off the bed, she got up and shuffled toward the sink and mirror at the front of her room. She turned the handle on the faucet and cupped her hands, collecting water which she then proceeded to splash onto her face. The water was cool against her warm skin.

Slowly, she looked up at her reflection. Upon meeting her own gaze, she was subconsciously sucked into a memory. It flashed through her mind quick, but the image seemed to sear itself onto the inside of her eyelids when she shut them. She was back at home, and at her doorway was her godfather, standing there. He was just watching, as she was taken away.

Thea took in a sharp breath as the reality of the situation seemed to fall on her. She wasn't at home with the Dunbars, she wasn't in California— she wasn't anywhere near the pack that had taken her in. She was taken away and forced into another world where her kind is killed for sport on the regular, a world without her friends, without her pack. If she could really call them her pack...

The brunette shook her head roughly at that thought. Of course they were her pack; the McCalls have been nothing but kind to her. They rescued her and her mom all those years ago, they took her in when she had nowhere else to go. They treated her like family. But was she really ever part of their family?

She looked away from the mirror, avoiding it as she scurried around the bedroom, in search of a new outfit for the day.

She stepped out of her room only to peer across the way to see Jack through his open doorway. He had a computer on his lap, watching something intently. Before she could make a move toward the young man, she heard a female voice emit from the laptop speakers. She stopped herself from listening when realizing it was a recording of Jack's mom. The doting mother had left a message for her son.