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."

[Rachel Shale]

Rachel was in her room. She had barely left all day. There wasn't really a reason to. Emily had spent most of the day in there with her. Emily had told her that someone was coming today. Emily thought it would help; Rachel was less convinced. She wasn't sure anything would help. Emily had left earlier, telling Rachel that soon he would be here and soon the nightmare would be over.

Rachel was lying on her side, facing the door. She didn't think that this would work, but she could try. For Emily she could try, but the fear was there, as it always was. Try as she may, Rachel couldn't dispel it. She expected that as the time got closer, it would grow. The doorbell rang, and even the musical chime couldn't get rid of the fear. She felt it growing as she knew that he was here - the mysterious man that Emily had found to help.

For awhile, the house seemed silent. Rachel couldn't almost see Emily talking with him - telling him what happened to her. Rachel had told Emily this was okay. At the very least, Emily felt relieved that Rachel was willing to help. The silence was broken as the pair ascended the stairwell, and the pair stopped outside her door. Rachel could here them talking quietly, even if she couldn't hear their words.

Rachel began to whimper quietly as her breath quickened. He'd be coming in soon. A man she didn't know. Rachel knew he wanted to help. Emily wouldn't bring someone into the house that would hurt her, but Rachel could still feel the panic beginning to rise in her chest as her hands began to shake. Rachel gripped the blanket to stop her shaking hands and tried to focus on her breath to calm down as much as she could. She had no idea what would happen when the door opened.

[Jensen James]

Jensen’s chest tightened as Emily spoke, each word weighing heavier than the last. By the time she finished, his breath had gone shallow behind the mask. A man who could twist emotions into shackles. A woman left hollowed by terror until fear was all she knew. He’d seen wounds of the body before, but this was something crueler. And the thought of walking into that room cloaked in anonymity, a faceless specter of white, struck him like blasphemy.

He could already imagine it: Rachel curled in her bed, drowning in a nightmare she couldn’t wake from, only to see a masked figure looming over her like something out of the dark. His gift, his calling, turned into another shadow to haunt her. No. That wasn’t healing. That wasn’t right.

A new emotion rose in him, sharp and undeniable. He had spent months playing Iāson, hidden behind porcelain and myth. The Ascendancy was right, of course. If the world knew what Jensen could do, they would tear him to pieces with their desperate need. But this wasn’t the world. This was one woman. One family. And for them, he couldn’t be a mask.

His gloved hand lifted to the edge of the disguise. “This isn’t right,” he said softly, his drawl a quiet tremor in the hush of the landing. Then he pulled the mask free.

Cool air touched his face, hair falling messily across his brow before he smoothed it back with his palm. The relief was immediate, almost dizzying. His own skin, his own eyes. The man he truly was. He turned his gaze to Emily, earnest and unguarded.

“Please don’t tell anyone,” he asked her, voice full of trust and vulnerability. “If it’s known who I am, what I can do… it won’t just be me who suffers. But for your sister, she deserves to see the man, not the mask.”

He followed her to the door and, when it opened, the stillness of the room pressed against him. Rachel lay there, pale and fragile, her fear almost a presence in the air itself. Jensen’s throat tightened, but he didn’t hesitate.

He crossed the threshold softly and with enough noise to suggest his arrival and went straight to her bedside, lowering himself onto one knee. Not towering above, not claiming authority. Simply placing himself where she could see him, level with her gaze. His gloves whispered softly as he removed them, folding them aside so his hands were bare, human. His palms were soft, the nails clean.

His eyes softened, his voice gentled to the timbre of prayer. “Rachel,” he said, no more than a breath, “would you hold my hand?”
He offered it palm up, steady and patient.

[Emily Shale-Vanders]

Emily wouldn't have asked him to do it. When she sought out Iāson, she knew the anonymity was a part of it. She wouldn't know whose face was behind that white mask. Emily knew and understood it. But Emily was relieved when he removed it - not because she wanted to know his secret, but because it would help Rachel to see that he was a person. Emily didn't just see his face when he took that mask off. He saw his heart. Iāson's services were very expensive, but she knew then that he would do all of this for free if he could. The man wanted to heal the world, and he was here to help her sister.

Emily recognized the face even though she hadn't met the man. Scrolling through channels on the TV back in Chicago had shown her this man: Jensen James - a former televangelist from Texas. Emily hadn't followed the story; she had been focused on dealing with the death of her parents, moving to Moscow, and getting married, but she knew he had disappeared - some sort of scandal. Except his wife (ex-wife?) was now the leader of the newest Dominance of the CCD. There was a story there, but Emily wouldn't push to hear it - especially if he didn't want to share it. Right now, her focus was on Rachel.

"I won't tell anyone. I promise, and thank you," her voice was a whisper, laced with abundant gratitude.

Jensen entered the room and got down to Rachel's level, being as non-threatening as possible. He had good instincts, and Emily was appreciative. She began to move to the other side of the bed, noting Rachel's behavior. Rachel's breath began to quicken as the fear and panic began to rise within her. Rachel moved slightly away from the man, but Emily could see more. Jensen didn't know her sister, so she had no idea if he would notice her hesitance in moving or how the hand closest to him, still clutching the blanket in a white-knuckled grip, hadn't moved with her body. Emily was filled with hope. Rachel was fighting the fear inside of her, trying desperately not to give in.

Emily was on the other side, and Rachel's breathing was quick, shallow, and erratic. Emily knelt down, and placed her hand in the center of Rachel's chest, applying gentle pressure. "Breathe," Emily said, demonstrating as she did it. It was routine in calming her down, and was effective.

Their father had always told them that the Shale girls' eyes sparkled, and as Rachel turned to look at Emily, that sparkle was all but gone. Her eyes always seemed to be unfocused. It was as if she saw all around her, but her gaze was inward.

"Em..." Rachel's voice was soft and tired. "I'm trying so hard."

Emily removed her hand from Rachel's chest and placed it over her hand. "I know...and you're doing very well." Emily turned her gaze to Jensen. "Rachel, this is...Iāson," she said, hesitating slightly before the name. She didn't know if Rachel had seen him on the TV or not, but in this state, she wouldn't recognize him anyways. They could deal with the anonymity part with Rachel when she was better. "He's here to help you. You're safe, he wont hurt you. I promise." Emily gave Rachel an encouraging smile.

[Rachel Shale]

Emily was there and Rachel was glad for her presence. There was a man next to her bed. Emily had told her that he would wear a mask, but he wasn't. It was probably a good thing. The mask might have made her scream. Maskless, he didn't seem scary, but at the same time, she was frightened of him. Rachel hated feeling scared of everything. She hated that she needed people to calm her down just to do normal things. The man had approached and knelt down. By reflex, Rachel had moved away, but she resisted as much as she could. It was such a simple thing, but it took so much energy.

The panic began to rise and Emily was there, her hand pressing down on her chest. For some reason that weight on her chest felt good and reminded her to breathe slower. Even if she was still afraid, she was calm. Emily was encouraging, reminding her that he was there to help and that she was safe.

As she gave Rachel the man's name, Rachel turned her gaze to him. "Iāson..." she said, her voice trailing off.

Rachel met his eyes, her breath hitching quietly as she did. Her eyes moved the the hand, held palm up. He had asked her if she would hold it, and Rachel realized that this whole time he had been waiting for her answer. "I'm...I'm sorry..." whether her apology was for being scared of him, moving away, or the fact that he had to wait for her, she didn't know. Maybe it was all three. "I'm trying."

Rachel tried to will her hand to move - to make her fingers release the blanket, but they didn't seem to want to obey. She felt Emily's hand, soft and warm over hers and focused on that one. Slowly, her fingers opened and Emily took her hand, squeezing gently. Rachel knew this was important. She knew she had to reach out. She had to make the decision to reach for that hand. She didn't know why that was important, only that it was.

Rachel closed her eyes, quiet sobs shaking her as she tried. She could feel the tears building behind her eyelids as she tried to push through the fear. "I..." she spoke through the sobs as she opened her eyes, hot tears beginning to fall down her cheeks as she looked at her other hand. Her hand slowly opened, giving in to her demands. She moved her shaking hand towards Iāson's and she looked back at him. "I...don't want to be scared anymore." As the words broke the silence, Rachel's hand took Iāson's and she squeezed, her eyes pleading for his help.

[Jensen James]

Jensen’s breath caught when Rachel’s trembling fingers slipped into his palm. Her skin was damp with tears, her grip small but desperate, like she clung to the possibility of freedom itself.

His chest tightened. He had laid hands on the burned, the broken, the bleeding. He had mended shattered bones, drawn sickness from lungs until they cleared like blue skies after rain. But this was different. There was no bruise to chase away, no fever to lower. This was a wound carved in her spirit, etched deep where no hand could reach.

For a flicker of a moment, fear touched him. What if it didn’t work? What if he reached for her, poured every ounce of himself into her, and found nothing to mend? What if he failed her?

But he couldn’t let that fear show. Not here. Not in front of this fragile woman who had just placed every shred of trust she had left into his keeping. So he closed his eyes, and he called the Gift.

It came like sunfire, like the tide, like the heavens itself filling him, surrounding him, carrying him. It was always more than he was, yet in these moments it felt as though he had been made for no other purpose than this: to channel it, to shape it, to give it. His whole body tensed as it poured through him, down his arm, into the trembling bridge of her hand.

He didn’t try to direct it, not like he usually did. Instead, he followed it, let it find its own way. And it did. It pressed inward, bypassing her body, bypassing the physical entirely, until it reached some unseen hollow in her mind. A place that was all jagged edges and darkness, a place where the fear had made its home. The Gift yearned to pour itself there.

Jensen’s heart ached. It was not his to understand, only his to obey. He let it flow. He willed it to flow. All of his being bent on one prayer: Let this work. Let her find peace. Please, God, let this work.

The moments stretched, and then, gently, he exhaled and opened his eyes.

Rachel’s hand was still in his, her grip trembling but sure. Slowly, reverently, Jensen eased his fingers free, releasing her so he could see her face. His pulse pounded in his ears, but outwardly he remained calm, composed, and waiting. Watching for the smallest flicker of change in her eyes, the faintest sign that the Gift had found purchase.

[Rachel Shale]

Rachel closed her eyes. She was trying to fight it back, if for no other reason that it would make Iāson's job easier if she wasn't shaking or whimpering in fear. She tried to remember what Jared had taught her about meditation. She began to focus on her breath and thought of a calming place; in her case, it was a river, flowing gently through the woods. She always saw herself in the river itself, laying on her back and floating. She never fought the river's gentle current, nor did she try to swim with it. She just let it take her where it wanted to, surrendering to its will. It was just a comforting image. Jared had always told her the next step was to let go of emotions. He described it as recognizing them with you inhale and releasing them with your exhale. Recognition, acceptance, and letting go.

Rachel felt her fear there, even in this calm woods. The trees held untold horrors, and the shadows seemed to reach for her. Rachel was aware something was happening, she could feel Iāson's power working around it in the way you felt the liquid from an IV going into your vein - a slight pressure that let her knew something was working within her. The fear began to change. It didn't flee at his power, but it was different. Even if Rachel couldn't see what he was doing, she could feel the effect. The fear was no longer the terror of a murderer chasing you or even the fear that forced you to fight for your very survival. This was the fear that lingered after you woke up from a nightmare. Residual and fractured, this fear would flee when you realized that you were safe.

Her calming image changed with this as well. The shadows began to retreat, and she was coming to a clearing in the trees - a spot where the sun shown brightly. The fear was still there trying, but unable to take hold. Rachel recognized it and with an inhale accepted it for what it was. On her exhale, she let the fear go. Then she felt herself, guided by the river she lay in to the sunny clearing. The sun was warm and welcoming, she surrendered to it as she had the river, breathing it in. She felt the light and warmth fill her. Rachel gasped in surprise. Despite the unfamiliarity she felt within her, Rachel wasn't afraid of it. It was sweet and powerful. Rachel smiled. Having found her peace, Rachel dismissed the image and the light went with it.

Rachel opened her eyes and noticed now that Iāson had let go of her hand. Emily's had remained and Rachel gave it a squeeze as she let go and sat up with her back against the wall.  Rachel looked around.  The room seemed brighter and the air less thick now.  The shadows in the room were static, no longer reaching for her. She was calm, and for the first time in a long time, it wasn't accompanied by the lingering fear. Her eyes passed the window. Christmas lights shown on the houses of their neighbors.  Her eyes suddenly landed on Emily.

Emily wasn't scared, but her eyes were widened slightly in surprise. "Em...is something wrong?"

Emily let out a chuckle. "No...everything's fine," she said, smiling at her. "We can talk about it later. How are you feeling?"

Rachel smiled. Something had happened, but it wasn't a bad thing. Rachel could tell if Emily's smile was a fake one meant to comfort. "I'm..." Rachel paused as she let out a relieved giggle. She hadn't felt this free for a long time. "I'm great. Mostly feel tired. A little disoriented. What day is it?"

Emily smiled. "December 24th."

"Christmas Eve - a time of miracles," Rachel said under her breath. "I don't remember much - just fragments of the last couple of weeks. Probably better that way."

Rachel turned to look at Iāson. This man had woken her from a neverending nightmare. Rachel got out of bed and walked over to him.  She took his hands in hers and looked him in the eyes. Iāson..." she spoke softly, her eyes displaying only gratitude. She remained silent for a moment, finding the words to say. Thank you shouldn't have been hard for her to say, but she didn't know what to say when thank you wasn't really enough. She let out a light laugh and smiled. "Merry Christmas." she finally said as she gave his hands a squeeze and let go.

[Emily Shale-Vanders]

Emily watched as Rachel fought through her fear. She was struck by Rachel’s bravery, holding on only because she trusted her sister. Jensen began to work. Emily couldn’t see or feel anything, of course, but she knew he was working. Emily kept hold of Rachel’s hand - a silent encouragement.

Rachel closed her eyes and Emily wondered if she was working through Jared’s meditation. Rachel’s breathing became focused and it confirmed she was. Rachel was still fighting. She was trying to cooperate with Jensen’s work. Jensen let go of her hand, having finished what he was trying and as he did, Rachel inhaled deeply and then exhaled.

Then Rachel inhaled again, and to her surprise, the soft glow that accompanied women holding the power surrounded Rachel. It shown bright for a second, and disappeared as she let out her breath. No power had been moved. She hadn’t actively channeled, but she had touched the power. Emily’s eyes widened in surprise.

Rachel opened her eyes and Emily looked as she sat up, the surprise still in her face as Rachel took in her surroundings. Rachel noticed and Emily smiled at her. She would reveal what had happened soon enough. As Rachel told her that she was doing well, Emily looked at her eyes. The sparkle of life was in them again. Her sister was back.

Rachel went to thank Iason for his help, and Emily smiled as she said “Merry Christmas.” It just seemed to fit for a thanks. Emily felt emotion welling up in her. It was a combination of relief, joy, and pregnancy hormones.she moved to sit down in the chair they kept next to her bed as she began to sob in relief.