Disclaimer: I do not own Human Target or any of its characters. They are property of Fox and the people belong to themselves. I intend no copyright infringement. Also Ash and Phillipia and

Authoress Note: It's been a long time since I wrote anything with Clarabelle Grant, my little witch. Not that I haven't wanted to. I just never got any inspiration for her. But this time I have and we're gonna see a new side of little Clarabelle that I think is important because the happy ones arnt always happy.

Extra Note: This was inspired by cedricsowner – big shocker, right? – and her latest thing with Human Target that tugged at my heart strings and made me drink cocoa… Yeah. Also the song Our July in Rain" by He is We was a good help for this because god this song has taken over my head and it's a good song. But also give "Hurricane" by 30 Seconds to Mars and "Paint it Black" by The Rolling Stones. These were the songs that played while I wrote this.


Black and Pink

The first thing he noticed was her clothes. Her clothes held no brightness. Black shirt, black skirt, black leggings, and even black shoes. Her wild an frizzy strawberry blonde locks were almost tamed looking and down with silver hair clips holding her hair back out of her face. Her usually bubbly and full of life oddly pink eyes held nothing and her face was neutral.

The next thing he noticed was that the cat – Lizzie – was nowhere in sight. Nor the broom or bag of hers. She stood alone, stepping off the elevator and looking around. Her eyes landed on him and Winston straightened as he stood from the couch. Ilsa stepped out of her office and he shared a look with her. "Miss Grant… Now is not a good time," Ilsa said, stepping up to the shorter young girl on the way to blossoming into a woman.

Miss Grant – Clarabelle – looked at her and reached in the pocket of her jeans and pulled out a set of bells on a single dark red ribbon. She held them up and looked at the two adults. "Please," se said softly, her usually high pitched and hyper tone lost, "I just want to give these to him… Then I'll leave if he wont talk."

Again Ilsa and Winston exchanged looks. Ash hadn't been up to visits and had even pushed Isu away. He wouldn't look or talk to Chance and even Guerrero had no effect on the pain and guilt and anger that boiled in the young man. Because he was his fathers son and he would always hold this as his fault… Winston sighed and shook his head, dropping his hands at his side.

Ilsa but her bottom lip. She should tell the young girl to leave. Ash was in no state of mind for visitor- "Clarabelle?" a voice inquired as Ilsa turned around to look at Ames. Ames was wearing one of Chance's shirts and in sweats. Her long hair was pushed behind her ears to keep it out of her face as she frowned. Clarabelle gave a small sort of bow of hello andlooked pleadingly at the woman so much closer to her age.

Ames's expression twitched from surprise to unsure to accepting in less than five seconds before she motioned Clarabelle to follow her. Clarabelle nodded and stuck the bells back in her pocket before following the older woman upstairs. At the top of the stairs Carmine greeted them both. He sniffed Clarabelle and looked up and as if to ask a simple "where is Lizzie" question and Clarabelle shook her head and pat the dog's large head. "Not today," she told the dog before heading on until she stood outside Ash's door.

Looking back at Ames, silently asking for alone time Ames nodded and turned to head into another room. A room the younger woman assumed was Ash's father's room. Looking at the door, Clarabelle could feel it was locked. Touching the doorknob, she easily unlocked it and opened the door and let herself in, shutting the door behind her so Carmine couldn't get in. The dog whined softly before heading off and Clarabelle took in the sight around her.

The room was lifeless. Least it might as well have been. Ash sat on his bed, his back to her as he stared out his window. There was a somewhat decent view out the window of cars driving by and people walking on the streets. Clarabelle's hand slipped into her pocket but did not remove the bells. "Go away," he hissed, turning around sharply. The expression of anger dropped from his face as he seemed surprised to see her.

Then that surprise became neutral. He looked almost lost. No expression whatsoever was on his face now. Clarabelle pulled the bells from her pocket and held them out to him as she stepped closer. Ash looked at her hand and slowly held his out and took the bells. He held the bells by the ribbon and jingled them softly. He furrowed his brow when he heard no sound. Clarabelle heard nothing as well. She took the bells and gave then a soft shake, a beautiful jingle heard before she placed them back in his hands.

"Faithbells," she explained softly, removing her hand from his. He looked at the bells then back at her. She continued. "Crafted by dwarves and given to Father Christmas as a gift for his magic sleigh. The bells could only be heard by those that believed in Father Christmas. These bells," she nodded to his hand, "were given to my mother in her time of lost faith… Not in Father Christmas, but in herself and life. The bells only jingle and make a sound when you have faith in yourself. When you feel whole again… Some have gone their whole lives without hearing the bells but when you do… You feel peace," she finished, her eyes finding his.

His expression darkened and he sat the bells down next to a paper crane near his bed on his bedstand and Clarabelle barely had any time to react to him roughly grabbing her wrist. He stared at her and his grip was tight and painful. She could see the question forming and Clarabelle shook her head. "I can't, Ashley," she whispered low and pained, her wrist hurting. She did not fight him though and she sucked in a breath of air as his grip tightened.

"Why?" he asked harshly, shaking. There was so much anger and guilt and sadness coming from him that it made her heart ache. "Bringing someone back isn't possible… Least not without losing yourself. If I tried, I'd die or become a shell of something that wants to live but can't," she explained firmly. He had to see that she wished she could to help him. But she just couldn't!

He shook his head and twisted her wrist. She cried out then, tears forming but she did not fight him. "Can't you go back and save her?" he sounded almost desperate under his demanding anger. She shook her head. "The past is set, Ashley… It wouldn't make a difference… You can't change the past. You have to keep moving forward," she hoarsely replied through her tears and her attempt to not scream in pain. He was hurting her.

Ash's gave lowered and he roughly released her wrist. He stepped back away from her as she held her wrist, a bruise in the shape of his hand forming. "Go away," he hissed. "Stay away from me!" Clarabelle recoiled at the force of his words. He meant it. He didn't want to see her… For how long, she wasn't sure. Fighting back the urge to cry, Clarabelle nodded and turned to leave, sliding open the door. "I'm sorry," she whispered once before shutting the door and standing in the hallway. The door locked behind her and she hung her head and turned, making her way downstairs.

She ignored the looks Ilsa and Winston gave her as she made her way into the elevator. Once the door closed, Clarabelle closed her eyes and disappeared, the camera's only catching static until the doors opened and closed once downstairs.

She reappeared on a rooftop across from the warehouse and gathered her bag and Lizzie, who mewed and tried to comfort her friend. Clarabelle hugged Snowfly and the growing kitten and fought back the urge to cry. Sniffing and wiping her eyes, Clarabelle mounted Snowfly and put her bag on and let Lizzie sit on the end as they took off, Clarabelle disappearing in thin air and glitter as she sped off, not sure when she'd come back but knowing it wouldn't be soon. It was time to go and do her travels now.

R & R Plz