Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from Repo! The Genetic Opera. They do not belong to me. Shovel, here, wishing you a happy holiday & a Merry Christmas! OH HO HO!

Two cerulean orbs, not quite her own, greeted her in the mirror. She pursed her lips, a thin frown wavered. If she could shed a single tear, she would. Dark locks cascaded to her shoulders. She applied cosmetics before rising from her seat.

"I must make my peace…" Her tone faltered. Yet, she quickly regained her composure.

Dark heels echoed as she walked at an even pace. The door clicked. She held the precious gift in her grasp. The jet black vehicle awaited her arrival. She slid in, calling out the destination.

"Please."

"Your time is limited."

"I understand."

Her heart ached, throbbing at an unbearable pace. Was she alive? Would he let her in? She knew him for years… And it had been twelve since Marni died. All Mag could do was to hope and pray. She would not pray to God. Had he or she existed, her prayers would have been answered. If God did exist, was humanity atonement for general sin?

It didn't matter to Magdalene. Her beliefs were her own. No one could change that. Not even the Devil whom kept the bird in her gilded cage. She toyed with the indigo ribbon tied around the present. Mag held her head in solemnity. Finally, the car arrived at the desired destination.

The chauffeur peered into his rear-view mirror. It appeared that he was glaring, though his eyes softened. He spoke in an authoritative monotone, "Remember Miss DeFoe, you have a short amount of time left." It seemed as if everything and everyone was dead or dying these days. All was gray and blurred together. Everyone's soul died the day half the world did from the organ epidemic.

"Thank-you."

"I'll be waiting."

The car door slammed shut followed by a dull sound. Magdalene strode towards the large house with a sigh. Words were stuck like a heavy lump in the middle of her throat. No sound was emitted. Fear struck her as well as overwhelming panic. What if he moved? What if nothing was left? The 'what ifs' were absolutely terrifying.

She gained her composure once more, knocking upon the wooden door. There was a male voice in the distance. A tired man, rapidly aging before her eyes, greeted Mag. He ran a hand through his cropped, brown hair. This wasn't expected nor necessary. Both sorrow and malice haunted his eyes.

"I brought a gift," she showed it to him as a sort of peace offering. He took it from her without a word.

"This isn't necessary, Mag."

"But… You could put it on the grave, couldn't you?"

"They're dead. They are not going to notice if you give it to her. Once you're dead, you're dead, Mag. It's as simple and clean as that."

"Please, Nathan. I bring peace. It's Christmas. Let me place it on her grave."

"It's a waste of time."

"But-"

"You should go home, Mag."

She was growing desperate. Mag was Marni's best friend. She merely wanted to pay her adieus and respect. Mag edged forward as Nathan blocked the way. He grew tired of such shenanigans. "Let me see, let me see-!"

"But you already see, Mag…" His facial structure and tone of voice changed. This was no longer Nathan Wallace. Mag immediately picked up on the impending factor. This was someone else. Or rather, something. A wolf in sheep's clothing. A monster among men.

"You're scaring me, Nate!"

Exasperated, he turned his head in shame. The secrets and burdens were heavy upon his shoulders. Oh Marni. I am lost without you here. I can only wonder… Am I only living out a lie? He cleared his throat, "You should go-"

"But before I go, I want to let you know that I am still here for you. Please. Give this to Shilo. Put it on the grave. For me. For Marni, Nate."

Defeated, Nathan accepted the gift with a frown. Does she know? She said to give to to Shilo, but then to put it upon her tomb. If she does- Everything will fall apart. Everything will come apart before my eyes. I can't afford to lose. He bowed his head in acknowledgement, "Thanks, Mag."

"No, thank-you, Nate. Merry Christmas." A smile graced her crimson lips. It was as if that one smile- made her into a glass figurine. One push. That was all she needed. One push to ruin. To break. To maim.

And he wanted to push her. To break here, but something told him that she was already broken. Her humanity hung upon a single thread. Nathan looked away in pure grief, "Have a good Christmas, Mag…"

"Thank-you and good-bye." Another smile.

"Not good-bye. It's good night."

She walked towards the gothic gates. One last look over her shoulder. She felt distant. She was no longer close. Once Marni died, Nathan had severed the ties. Magdalene spoke her final words, "Say hello to Shilo for me."

And with that, she was gone. Nathan's eyes widened. He slammed the door in silent fury. She doesn't know. She doesn't know. She can't. She meant the grave for Christ's sake. He told himself those words repeatedly. The single fathered trudged up the stairs, knocking on his daughter's door.

"Shilo? Shilo, honey. It's just me." He peered inside. Shilo Wallace was just twelve years old. Still young. Still naïve. Like any doting father, he hovered over her. Nathan smiled thinly, "I have a gift for you."

Doe's eyes brightened in an instant. She smiled in glee. Oh, to be that young. To be that happy. Nathan handed her Mag's present. Shilo flung her arms around her father, "Thanks, Daddy!"

It was a brown teddy bear with an indigo ribbon around its neck. Simplistic beauty. Yet, his daughter loved it.

"Merry Christmas, Shi."

"Merry Christmas!"

Although it was Christmas Eve, it did not matter. Christmas was still Christmas.

Mag gazed at the sole light on the top floor with the balcony. With a sigh, she returned to the dark vehicle. It felt like a confining coffin, closing in on her.

Like glass, Mag broke. Her heart shattered. Piece by little piece, she would put it back together again. Her voice shook with the sounds of weeping. If she could cry, she would. Those eyes, not quite her own, wouldn't allow it. A fine line of blood dribbled down her cheeks. Blood was different than that of tears.

Shilo spotted Mag. Her idol visited her father. It was unheard of. She had graciously accepted the bear, knowing it was from her. The young girl clung to it, peering out of the balcony to watch Mag's car drive away.

"Merry Christmas," she looked down at the bear. "...Mag…"