Myrrh
It was all Sam's idea. They were out Christmas shopping, not his idea either, and they passed a church. It was brightly lit, people were streaming in and the sound of happy voices filled the air.
"Let's go in." When she saw his face she added "for just a minute" and gave him a smile he could never resist. Getting out of the biting wind and sitting down for a bit didn't seem like such a bad idea so he acquiesced.
There was a bounce to his step as he walked up the steps of the church and whispered into her ear "Aren't you worried about their roof?". She tried to ignore him but smiled nonetheless.
Opening the massive doors to the Gothic building flooded them in light and warmth and the sounds of the holiday. They made their way down a side aisle of the crowded church when some kindly parishioners motioned to them as they moved down the pew to give Sam and Jack a seat. Jack preferred to stand at this point thinking it would give him a fast and easy get away but Sam tugged on his hand and he squeezed into the pew after her.
The church was festooned with trees, wreathes and garlands, all simply decorated with white lights and red bows, and a sea of poinsettias graced the sanctuary. The choir sang traditional hymns in Latin, French, German and, of course, English, most of which Jack knew from childhood. And as they sang, children acted out the Christmas story. Even thoughts of Charlie were bittersweet this night. He could remember his little boy's voice singing carols and his excitement waiting for Santa.
The next hymn was one he hadn't heard in a while. The chorus sang all the verses of "We Three Kings" as three boys, dressed in rich brocades, marched down the center aisle, their arms stretched out before them bearing golden chests. It wasn't until they got well into the carol that Jack found his skin crawling. He was having a panic attack in this crowded church filled with happy singing people.
Myrrh is mine, its bitter perfume
Breathes a life of gathering gloom;
He felt anxious, nausea clawing at his gut. He needed to get out and get out now, his head swiveling from side to side looking for the easiest access to an exit. More people had crowded in after them and stood in the aisles. He felt boxed in, confined, trapped.
Sorrowing, sighing, bleeding, dying,
Sealed in the stone cold tomb.
That was the smell, that clawing, sickeningly odor, that overpowering spicy, bitter smell that filled his nostrils every time he awoke in Ba'al's sarcophagus. If he didn't get out of this pew, out of the overheated crowded church, he was either going to throw up or pass out. He pulled away from Sam's arm that was laced through his and lurched to his feet. Gasping air the sweating, dizzy man fled the church and the music and the light. He stood at the curb, bent over, hands on his knees struggling to hold it together.
"I'm sorry, Jack."
He hadn't realized she had followed him out and was at his side.
They made their way to the church steps where Jack sat down heavily.
"I was overheated, nothing really. I'm okay."
Sam, although hoping it really was the heat, was sure it was memories of Charlie haunting Jack. And he was not about to put his pain on display.
He looked to his left at the corner of the church where there was a Christmas display – the rude stable in a forest of trees, the ox and lambs, the loving mother and the babe lying in a manger. And he breathed in the fresh, clean, cold air. The scent of the pine and balsam trees soothed him as the adrenaline rush seeped away and his heart calmed.
The doors to the church opened as a few people left and Jack could hear a few lines to a familiar hymn.
God rest ye merry, gentlemen
Let nothing you dismay
He smiled at Sam and the worry that lined her face eased.
"I'm good to go. Now let's go home." He said as he got up. He took her hand and held it fast as they walked on their way.
The doors to the church were flung open again and the side walk became crowded with people. Into the cold, dark night sound and light poured out of the church as the whole congregation sang at the top of their voices.
Remember, Christ, our Savior
Was born on Christmas day
To save us all from Satan's power
When we were gone astray
O tidings of comfort and joy,
Comfort and joy
O tidings of comfort and joy.
A/N: If you would like to listen to a different but great Christmas song try The Rebel Jesus by Jackson Browne.