A.N.: The title is a spoof of Stephen King's The Shining, which I have neither seen nor read, so bear with me! This story was inspired by the pilot episode of Supernatural. There are several differences between this story and the canon film plot, mostly that Caleb and Emmeline's grandfather is still alive.

The Twinkling

Chapter One

The Lightweight and the Recluse

No source documents the beginning of magic, where it came from, why it exists, but those who mastered it have historically been hunted out of fear by those who do not understand it. In the midst of the political and religious turmoil of the 17th Century, many escaped the brutal Witch-hunting in England and France by coming to America. As the ruthless persecution of those with magic spread throughout Massachusetts, the founding families of Ipswich formed a covenant of silence. For three-hundred years, it has kept them safe. Until now.

Emmeline didn't much like parties like this; like Spenser parties; but she had learned young that when Reid said 'You're coming out for a good time,' she had no other choice in the matter. The party was at her house, however, so after an hour or so and seeing several people already vomiting into antique planters after some of Reid's Jell-O shots, she had retreated to the quiet sanctuary of her bedroom. No one bothered her up here; bedrooms were expected to be used at a party where she and her twin-brother Caleb were getting rid of all their mother's alcohol stashes, but her bedroom was off-limits, as Caleb's was.

Besides, no one except the boys would ever care where she was, and they were having too good a time downstairs to wonder where she'd disappeared to. Caleb wasn't really a partier either; it had been Pogue's idea to throw a party to get rid of the booze, and Reid had used his fake I.D. to get some kegs from the Cash-and-Carry downtown.

Neither Kate nor Sarah were very good friends with Emmeline; they were just dating Pogue and Caleb, and it was difficult to relate to the girls when Emmeline was the kind of girl who was completely assured of who she was and what she liked; she would rather go to a restaurant or Nicky's with a small group of friends, or go and see a movie, or have a few people over to watch movies, play games and make chocolate-chip waffles, her Grandpa's specialty. It was difficult to relate to Kate because she still didn't know their families' secret, and Sarah was a girly-girl who did know about their powers, which made things quite uncomfortable for Emmeline, who had never been close enough to anyone besides the boys to even consider telling her darkest secret to.

So she sat in her bedroom, wishing the hundred-odd strangers would leave her house so she wouldn't have to waste a whole weekend making sure everything was clean and tidy and no trace of a party remained by the time her mother returned, hopefully sober, from the rehab facility she had checked herself into the day after Emmeline's eighteenth birthday. Alone in her bedroom, she couldn't help feeling a little bit of niggling doubt; downstairs, she could count on one hand the number of people she knew, and knew well. A feeling of complete insignificance settled in her stomach and Emmeline let out a deep sigh that got to her eyes. She licked her lips and sought her little black fifth-generation iPod Nano from the heavy folds of her duck-feather duvet and plugged her earphones in. The music from the party was dulled, her bedroom removed from the main downstairs rooms, but she could hear a soft bass rhythm and securing her noise-cancelling earphones, she chose her favourite playlist, settled herself deep in the cloister of her über-comfy bed and opened her book-Wuthering Heights, her favourite book of all time—and started to read.

She was halfway through chapter seven when her bedroom door opened, and glancing up, she sat up straighter, plucking her earphones out.

Tyler stumbled into the room, staggered while he closed the door loudly, and was panting by the time he slid down the door onto his bottom on the threshold of her bedroom, his eyes closed, lips parted, looking green.

Her book forgotten, Emmeline stumbled off her bed and squatted down beside Tyler, who seemed to be clinging to her rug for some reason.

"Baby Boy?" she said gently, and Tyler just panted, shaking his head slowly. She could smell alcohol on his breath as sure as anything. "How much have you had to drink, Tyler?"

"Reid…made me…drink…bottle…port," Tyler panted, looking nauseated, as if he was trying to keep something down.

"Come on," she said gently, rising off the floor and holding out her hands; Tyler peeked his burning sapphire-blue eyes open and eyed her hands, panted, and with great effort, staggered off the floor. Emmeline glanced at the toilet in her en-suite and the lid rose automatically; by the time they crossed the threshold of her en-suite bathroom, Tyler was running for the toilet, groaning.

Emmeline wouldn't miss this. In the beginning, before the alcoholism had really taken over, her mother used to just get drunk. Grandpa couldn't take care of her when she was in that state, so it had fallen on Caleb, and usually Emmeline, to take care of her. Emmeline knew every hangover cure known to man, and from her mother had learned never to drink on an empty stomach or mix drinks.

She rinsed the glass from her bedside cabinet and filled it with cold water for Tyler to sip, and sat on the lip of the bathtub, rubbing his back soothingly while he continued to be sick, moaning.

It was just like Reid to take advantage of Baby Boy's low tolerance for alcohol. An entire bottle of port—and Emmeline's mother never drank low-quality stuff. She always had the very best—their families always did, hers, Tyler's, Reid's, Pogue's; they were some of the oldest families in Massachusetts, after all. Money was no object to anyone in their circle of friends. But Tyler was the baby of their group, and Reid took delight in challenging him to do things he knew Tyler couldn't do, like downing a bottle of port wine.

"Gargle some water," she said quietly, curling Tyler's fingers around the tumbler of water; he sipped it, gargled and spit into the toilet, and while he did it again and then once more, she found a spare toothbrush in one of the console drawers and loaded it with toothpaste, handed it to Tyler and sat down again on the lip of the bathtub.

Tyler slumped to the floor, his expression so careworn and upset, brushing his teeth languorously, and he pulled himself into a standing position to spit out the paste and rinse.

"Emmy, can I stay up here with you?" Tyler croaked, running a shaking hand over his face and slumping back down onto the floor.

"Sure," Emmeline said softly, handing him the glass of water. "Drink this all up." Tyler took the glass and obediently drained it, and then another. She inhaled and sighed, glancing into her bedroom, at her comfy bed calling to her, and she glanced back at Tyler.

"Baby Boy, you really need a shower, because you stink," she said quietly, and Tyler's eyebrows contracted, his sapphire eyes widening innocently.

"Do I?" he gasped, and sniffed at his jacket. "I do! Oh my god." He tried and failed to remove his jacket; Emmeline smiled affectionately and stood up, resting her hands on his chest so he paused, and smoothed his jacket off him.

"Arms up, Baby Boy," she said, and adorably, like a sweet little kid he still usually was, Tyler raised his arms, his eyes sliding closed tiredly. Smiling to herself, Emmeline removed Tyler's layered t-shirts, but Tyler gently swatted her hands away when she went to his belt-buckle.

Blushing, he murmured, "I can do it," and Emmeline shrugged, surprised to find her cheeks were warm when she glanced away and tampered with the water temperature for the shower.

"I'll go and get you some pyjamas," she said quietly, not looking at Tyler and avoiding the mirror, and she heard Tyler's sleepy mumble and the sound of water bouncing off his skin as he climbed into the shower. She snuck across the hall to Caleb's bedroom, glad she hadn't found him in there with Sarah, and grabbed a t-shirt and a pair of Caleb's plaid pyjama-bottoms from his dresser, closed the door behind her and retreated into her own room. The shower was still on when she entered the bedroom, and she was glad of the steam swirling around in the en-suite when she folded up the clothes and placed them out for Tyler.

She didn't know when it was that they had become awkward about nudity. For such a long time, they had all palled around and acted as if they were the closest friends in the world; she, Tyler, Reid, Caleb and Pogue had always done everything together. They'd never had any secrets from each other, always shared hobbies and possessions, liked the same stuff and got along so well it was sometimes sickening to think about. They had grown up running around their parents' lawns naked, soaking each other during summer-camp and skinny-dipping in the Danvers' pond and the brook that bubbled prettily behind the Simms' house. She didn't care about Reid—he was practically nude all the time, and had no shame; she wasn't bashful about seeing him naked; she and Caleb were too close to get embarrassed about that kind of stuff, and, well, it was a treat seeing Pogue in the nude. All those muscles!

So why did she suddenly feel flushed at the thought of Tyler being naked in her shower?

And why did he have a problem with her stripping his clothes off? It wasn't like she hadn't done it a thousand times before to all of the others, including Tyler. It seemed like it was a weekly occurrence that they had to take care of Reid, who loved to party, or make sure Pogue wasn't caught sneaking out of the girls' dorms by the supervisor after a party.

Well, whatever. Scratching Absalom—her family's old, English Bulldog—behind the ears, she climbed onto her bed and picked up Wuthering Heights. Five minutes later, Tyler shuffled out of the en-suite bathroom, dressed in Caleb's clothes with a towel draped over his head, slowly rubbing his hair dry.

"Hey," Emmeline said quietly, glancing up from her book. "Feeling better?"

"Mm," Tyler grumbled, shaking his head, his lips pouty. He climbed slowly onto the bed, draped himself across it, and rested his head in her lap with a sigh. Trying not to fidget, Emmeline sat up a little straighter and combed her fingertips through Tyler's damp hair.

"Want me to get you a soda?" she asked. "Or something to eat?"

"Uh-uh," Tyler grumbled, shaking his head slightly. "Sleep…"

"Alright, come on, then," Emmeline sighed, gently pushing Tyler's head off her lap. "Lie down properly." Grumbling and pouting, Tyler crawled under the duvet, snuggling deep underneath, only his lovely brunette hair visible. A moment later, he had passed out, and Emmeline snuggled under the duvet, reading until nearly two a.m., when she heard the music cut out and the last car peal out of the driveway. Her eyes tired, Emmeline set her alarm, changed into her pyjamas and curled up under the duvet beside Tyler.

A.N.: Please review! It was only a snippet because I wanted to get a first chapter posted so that there are some actual decent-quality Covenant fanfictions to read. I tried to find some, and gave up because it was such a hopeless quest, and decided I needed to write some more of my own!