A Christmas Carol [Shale House]

[Emily Shale-Vanders]

Christmas Eve. It was Christmas Eve and Emily's child had already gotten her a present: Nausea. Of all of the evenings she could have been spending puking her guts out, this one was particularly inconvenient. She had heard of the "morning sickness" but her OBGYN had informed her it could really happen anytime. But tonight - she really wished she didn't have to deal with it, not because of the holiday, but because of what was planned.

Rachel was lying down in her bed. Jared and Mara had gone out into the city for the night. They had all thought it would be easier for Rachel tonight with less people here. Then, at least, Rachel wouldn't be overwhelmed. The sickness she was experiencing wasn't worrying her tonight. It was Rachel - because she wasn't getting better. Emily didn't think it was because of what happened with the sentient. It was because Rachel wasn't trying to fight it anymore. Maybe that was exacerbating things. Emily didn't know. Emily didn't care. She just wanted her sister back. Then Emily had heard the rumors and whispers. She followed them and found they were true, and it led to tonight: Christmas Eve.

Emily finished emptying the contents of her stomach and began to wash her hands, hoping that was it for the vomiting for tonight. Emily looked in the mirror. She wore no makeup tonight. She never needed much of it to begin with, but without it, she couldn't hide the flushing of her face from throwing up or the way her eyes looked tired. She hadn't had the energy to even pick a "nice" outfit to wear and wore simply a pair of jeans and a light blue t-shirt. As Emily looked at herself, she felt like she was seeing a woman who had tried to be strong for so long and was on the verge of snapping.  That made sense because it was true.

Emily was pulled from her thoughts from the ring of the doorbell. She could have used her wallet to see who was at her door, but she didn't need to. She knew who it was. It could only be one person. Emily felt her breath hitch as she left the bathroom. She paused outside of Rachel's bedroom for a second, hoping that this worked.  If it didn't, she would know what she would do.

Emily took a calming breath as she headed downstairs, wishing she had time to get a drink of water before answering the door. The breath was unhelpful.  As she neared the door, her nerves began to take over and her anxiety grew heavier. She reached for the knob and opened the door to see her guest. "Hi," she said, her voice quiet. "Ummm...please...come on in."

Emily found it hard to look him in the eye, so her gaze was downcast. Emily stepped aside so her guest could enter the home unimposed, waiting for him to enter before shutting it behind him.

[Jensen James]

Jensen stood on the stoop a moment longer than necessary, the Russian winter biting through even his carefully chosen coat. The mask concealed his features, but it did nothing for the weight he carried in his chest. He hated the anonymity and the hollowness of it, but the Ascendancy had been right. If the world knew the truth of who he was and what he could do, there wouldn’t be enough walls in Moscow to hold back the tide.

White on white, his suit cut a silhouette that was elegant and deliberate. The gloves flexed with the quiet itch of his hands wanting to be bare. Healing, true healing, would require the natural skin to skin. He would doff the gloves soon enough. For now, it was too cold to consider.

The door opened, and for the briefest flicker, Jensen’s breath caught.

Blonde hair. Blue eyes. Poise, even when unadorned; a classic beauty. She wasn’t Jessika, of course, but the resemblance pressed on old bruises in his chest. A reminder of another life, another woman who once stood at his side and turned out to be someone completely different.

He inclined his head in greeting, voice warm but formal, softened just enough to be reassuring. “Good evening, ma’am. My name is Iāson. I understand someone here is in need of my help.”

He stepped across the threshold when she moved aside, his polished shoes sounding muted against the floors. The air inside carried a different kind of weight. Less of winter’s bite and more like a grief hanging on the air. He wondered what affliction ailed the household.

Jensen paused just inside the entry, giving Emily the dignity of space, but his attention was already drawn upward, to the second floor. He didn’t know who waited, only that they suffered. And that was enough.

He turned his masked face back toward her, gloved hands folding neatly before him. “If you’ll show me to them,” he said softly, “we’ll see what can be done.”

[Emily Shale-Vanders]

Iāson entered her house and Emily still had trouble looking at the masked face. It wasn't fear, but anxiety. Her nerves tingled with uncertainty at everything. What if this didn't work? What would she do then? What would happen to her sister and by extension, the rest of her family? When he spoke, his voice was calm and reassuring. There was more to his words than a simple greeting and statement of his purpose. His tone whispered that things would be okay. They were genuine and Emily had no doubt that the man who stood before her would do everything in his power to help her sister.

Still the anxiety lingered. Iāson had been very polite. The "ma'am" made her think of Southern hospitality and the calmness that he projected tried to speak to her, reminding her that she needed to calm down herself. She couldn't go into Rachel's room like this and expect Rachel to remain the same. "I'm..."

Emily's voice trailed off as she found what she needed to find her own calm. Her eyes fell on her wedding picture. Jared looking down at her as she looked up at him with loving eyes. Her fingers went to her wedding ring and she felt the cool metal. Jared wasn't here right now physically, but he was always with her. Jared was a martial artist and taught her to meditate, and she went into that now, focusing on her breath. It only took a few breaths and she felt the anxiety, still present, fall under her control.

Emily turned to face Iāson, her eyes meeting the spot his would be on his mask, and when she spoke, her voice was less uncertain. "I'm Emily. It's nice to meet you Iāson. You are welcome in my home. Please, follow me." Emily turned and began to lead Iāson through her house to the stairway. "It's my sister, Rachel. She was hurting after a breakup and someone found her and took advantage of her pain. He was...unique...able to directly affect the emotions of those around him. He could make her feel what he wanted her to feel. He broke her, and now, she's afraid...all the time."

They arrived at the top of the stairs and Emily waited for him to get to the landing. "It's like...that's Rachel's normal now. Constantly afraid - like everything has been turned into a waking nightmare. She's been really suffering, and..." her voice trailed, and she looked down and closed her eyes, tears burning. "She's giving up and losing hope. IF this doesn't get fixed, I'm worried she'll want to end it."

It was the first time Emily had said it. The first time she voiced that her sister might try to end her own life if this couldn't be fixed. She allowed the tears to fall for a bit, unembarrassed by them. She didn't know Iāson, but she trusted him. She wiped her eyes and then met that masked gaze. "I really hope you can help her. She's in her room right now."

Emily turned and walked to the door, stretched out her hand and touched the knob. Her hand lingered for a second, and then dropped as she faced Iāson again. "She's going to be afraid of you even though she knows you're coming. When we go in, I can calm her down, but it will take a bit of time. I hope it's okay that I go in while you do what you do. She's going to need me there." Emily paused, her gaze pleading. "Please."