What were you Expecting?

Claire

Claire was standing in front of the mirror in the bathroom, staring at her reflection. The girl who she saw looked nothing like her usual appearance, which she supposed was a good thing. She now had dark brown hair that flowed down to the middle of her back, it was odd to not see her usual golden blond locks. Now she looked like her mother, the one she despised with all her might. She held the scissors in hand, waiting for Liz to get there and cut it short. She ran her hand through the lengths, treasuring them one last time as she grabbed a fistful to cut. She couldn't stand looking like her mother, so she cut as close to her hand as possible without cutting herself.

Some hair fell onto the floor, but she had quite the handful as she heard the front door open and close. "Claire?" her sister called as she followed the trail of clothes to the bathroom.

Liz stood in the doorway, mouth agape at the sight of her sister. Claire's hair was in chunks and she stood in pajamas in front of the sink. Her cheeks a little red from the alcohol. "What in the holy hell did you do?" She asked as she took the scissors from her sister's hand, the rest of the hair falling with it, "Why didn't you wait for me?"

"I couldn't stand looking at...at her anymore." She admitted, giving up the scissors without a fight.

Liz sighed, hugging her twin gently, "I know, you're gonna be ok. I'll make sure of it."

"I know you will."

"Now let's fix this mess, I know you're going for street trash, but this is a little overboard," she teased, evening out the lengths of hair.

She trimmed and trimmed until she found a suitable style that wasn't choppy and uneven. It was much shorter than she had originally planned to go, but it looked good on her. "There, all done," she crooned, playing with the now short locks.

It was just a bit longer in the front, with short layers in the back. It looked like a style your normal female street thug would have. Short enough to keep out of her face if she needed to run, but also long enough to hide her face in a crowd if need be. She could blend a lot easier. Claire felt some tears start to well up in her eyes, but she quickly wiped them away.

"It's....so short," Claire admitted, playing with the longer part out front, "it's gonna take some getting used to."

"I know, I'm actually thinking of getting mine chopped off too. Lately it's been causing problems, but i don't know how Sam will take it," she said chuckling to make her sister feel better.

Claire chuckled a little, "As long as you don't make yourself look like a butch lesbian again i think you'll be ok."

Liz laughed, remembering the mishap she had the last time she cut her own hair, "That was a one time deal, and the last time I ever try to cut my hair with you around. Ms. Gonna Scare My Sister."

Claire laughed a bit more, "your face was worth it!"

The two fell into a silence that seemed to never end. Claire looked up at her sister and gave a small smile. "I'm gonna miss being able to talk to you," she said as she walked past her sister and to her room to finish packing, "let alone actually seeing to you."

"You do realize that as sick as it makes me, I do actually work for those dick bags right?" Liz quipped, sitting on the edge of Claire's bed, "odds are we'll see each other at some point, and you have my current number. So you can always text me."

"I'll never understand how you can do things like that Liz. Doesn't it bother you? Even a little?"

"Not when they are scumbags who are, quite frankly, a waste of resources," she noted.

There was no remorse in her voice, none at all, "You cops are bound by rule, codes and regulations. You can't deviate from protocol or else you'll end up on the wrong side of said rules. Me? I can do what I want. I see an asshole being an asshole? I can beat them to a pulp and get away with it. Well, so long as I lure him away from the busy streets that is. I honestly don't know why you think I'd feel bad for taking out dick weasels. They wanna hurt innocent people, they gotta pay the price."

Claire zipped her bag and sat next to her sister. "I just find it odd," she said looking at her sister, "you used to be an EMT. You saved lives, regardless of being a scumbag or not. You didn't care, you saved them regardless. I just want to know where my Lizzie went to. Especially before I go into a possible suicide mission."

Liz chuckled dryly, "I wish I knew, but I can tell you....she probably died with mom....." Liz took a deep breath, trying to block out the images. "I wish.....I wish the cops took me seriously when I said it wasn't dad, but they blew me off. Said I was too traumatized. Well traumatize this dick bags, I'll take them down myself."

Claire took her sister's hand. She held it tight and lifted it to her chest. A show of comfort. Of love. Of compassion for her older sister. "Lizzie...Just....promise me when this is all over, you'll find a job you love, and not one that's fueled by hate and revenge?" She asked as she ran her free hand through her now short hair.

"I can't make any promises I can't keep," she said as she wrapped an arm around her sister, "but I will make sure you'll be safe in there. Now get some rest. You have a long day tomorrow."

Claire sighed and stood, pushing her bag off of the foot of her bed. She pulled down the covers and crawled in, the comfort of the pillows and blankets lulling her into a fast sleep.