Soooo, I didn't manage to finish the story before Christmas (yeah, what a surprise). But chapter 3 is finally up, enjoy :) It's rather angsty and depressing, not very Christmas-y, I'm afraid. The next – and last – chapter will hopefully be more cheerful, and this time I promise it will be up in less than a week.
There are one or two swearwords in this one. Just warning.
One year later
Teresa Lisbon was in a very festive mood. For the first time in three years she was going to spend Christmas with her brothers. All three of them were supposed to get to Sacramento the next day, and Annie and her husband promised to drop by on their way to Ethan's parents, too. Lisbon just couldn't wait. As she was preparing guest bedrooms for the family invasion, she thought of all the things that had changed in her life in the past year.
Her house – their house (how good it sounded, she thought) – was almost ready for the celebrations. Jane had decorated the front yard, and while he'd got a bit carried away, Lisbon loved every part of it. He'd also baked gingerbread, hung the mistletoe over the door and was now trimming the Christmas tree in the living room. Lisbon smiled to herself when she heard him singing Let It Snow. He was finally at peace and she, too, had never been happier.
Jane opened another box of ornaments and smiled. He just found a set of the most beautiful porcelain angels with delicate openwork wings, each holding a different musical instrument. Who would have thought that Lisbon was so romantic. He'd expected porcelain shotguns or something equally subtle, but was pleasantly surprised to learn that she had a softer side, too.
Not that he hadn't noticed her softer side in the previous twelve months, of course. The woman had many faces and exploring them had given him a lot of satisfaction. It hadn't been a piece of cake, though - after all that she'd been through, she had still been reluctant to show her emotions, even to him. But slowly, day after day, he'd won her trust.
He still felt strange, trimming the Christmas tree and decorating the house. He hadn't prepared family Christmas since… since he'd had a family. Before doing anything, he'd thought about Angela and Charlotte, about their Christmases together. He'd taken his wedding ring off, but that didn't mean he'd forgotten. He never would. But Angie would want him to be happy - and he finally was.
He was a bit nervous about that huge family dinner, though. He'd met Lisbon's brothers before and knew they liked him – or at least tolerated him – but it was something entirely different.
Plus, he had something very special prepared to mark their first anniversary. He smiled at the thought. He only hoped that Lisbon would like his surprise.
He gave the tree a critical look and moved one of the baubles. 'Tess,' he called out, 'could you come here for a second?'
Preparing everything with Jane felt good. They had been together for a year – and while it hadn't been an easy year, Lisbon was grateful for every minute of it. She remembered every morning, every dinner together, every movie they'd watched, curled on her sofa, and every book they'd read. She hadn't been used to being with someone twenty four-seven, but now she couldn't imagine it any other way.
At first it had been a nightmare. After their first kiss and the beautiful snowy Christmas week spent at her house, real life had seemed to overwhelm them. They'd fought about literally every detail, defending their territories, not understanding that they should be a team, not mortal enemies.
It had been even worse at work. They'd decided to keep their relationship secret for as long as possible, but it hadn't exactly gone well. Jane's shenanigans had made Lisbon even more furious than usually, and it had been rather difficult to hide that something had changed, with them yelling at each other almost all the time, and then not talking for the whole day.
Of course, there had also been beautiful moments – they had been madly in love, after all – and only because of them Lisbon and Jane hadn't given up so easily.
And yet, it had been very difficult. Lisbon had promised herself she wouldn't cry because of Jane, and had broken the promise just a month later, when he'd accidentally called her Angela. That had led to a heartbreaking argument, in which Jane had admitted that maybe he hadn't been ready for another serious relationship. She'd been crying for three hours straight then, and been very close to giving up. She'd understood Jane and been willing to sacrifice a lot for their love, but even she'd had her breaking point.
It had been Annie who had finally saved the day and made them realize what had really been important. She'd come to visit in February, and when she'd seen what state her aunt had been in, decided to take matters in her own hands. There had been hours and hours of conversations with Lisbon, Jane, and finally both of them, but she'd succeeded. As if something had just clicked, their problems had seemed to disappear overnight. It hadn't been perfect, of course, but at least they'd learned how to listen to each other and make small sacrifices every day.
From then on, it had been very, very good.
'Tess, could you come here for a second?'
She only rolled her eyes and laughed. Jane had been calling her every ten minutes that afternoon, only to ask her whether she preferred blue or red tinsels, whether he should use golden or silver bells, what kind of lights she wanted on the tree... The man was tireless.
She didn't mind, though, as he rewarded her every answer with a tender kiss.
Now she put down the towels she was carrying and went to the living room. Jane had turned on the radio and was now humming White Christmas along with Bing Crosby. 'What is it this time?' she asked with a grin.
'I can't make up my mind – do you think our stockings look better on the left or the right side of the fireplace?'
She couldn't help laughing. 'Seriously? You're running out of excuses to drag me here, aren't you?'
Jane didn't even look away from the fireplace. 'You're right, they look better on the left,' he said. Then he turned to face her. 'Do I really need an excuse to make you come to me?'
'Not really.' Lisbon smiled affectionately at him. 'Have you finished with the tree already?'
'Of course.' Jane turned on the lights. 'Do you like it?' he asked proudly, like a kid waiting for words of praise.
'It's beautiful. No wonder, you've been trimming it for the past four hours,' she teased.
'Hey, I wanted it to be perfect for you.' He kissed her. 'Would you like to place the star on the top?'
'I'd love to.' She took the metal golden star from him with a smile.
And then the song changed. As the first sounds of Mary's Boy Child echoed in the room, Lisbon froze.
The carol reminded her of another Christmas, another tree, long time ago.
Something she wanted to wipe from her memory, and yet it kept haunting her, even after all those years.
The star fell from her hand and hit the floor with a clang, but she didn't notice it.
The room blurred, and suddenly she couldn't breathe, she was suffocating, fighting for air...
Teresa bought a Christmas tree.
It wasn't very big – she couldn't afford a full-sized one – but it was a beautiful shade of green and smelled amazingly, reminding her of forest in the summer. As she walked down the streets, people smiled at her – a petite fifteen-year-old carrying a fir almost as big as herself was indeed an entertaining sight.
When she brought it home, her father wasn't there yet. Her brothers watched with shiny eyes as she placed the tree in its stand.
'Okay, guys,' she said with a grin. 'Who wants to put the lights on it?'
'Let me! Let me do it!' Michael, the hyperactive five-year-old, jumped up and down with excitement. 'Please, Reese, I will be careful.'
'Are you kidding?' Tommy laughed at his brother. 'It's a job for adults!'
Michael pouted. 'You are not an adult. You're only ten, you moron!'
'Michael, behave.' Teresa laughed. 'Why don't you three just do it together while I bring the rest of the ornaments?'
Tommy shrugged his shoulders. 'Fine, why not.'
'Good. Now be nice, I'll be back in a moment.'
When she came back five minutes later, the tree was glistening beautifully. She smiled. 'Nice job,' she commented, placing the box with Christmas balls on the coffee table.
They spent the next hour on trimming the tree, arranging the ornaments, rearranging them, changing the concept at least five times, before finally it was ready.
Tommy couldn't take his eyes off the tree. 'It's beautiful,' he said.
'Yeah, it totally rocks.' Michael threw himself on the sofa, admiring their little masterpiece.
'You rock, Reese.' James smiled warmly. 'Thank you.'
Teresa ruffled his curly hair. 'I'm glad you liked the surprise. Now, let's clean this mess.'
They started putting the unused ornaments back in the box.
'Hey, Reese?' Michael looked up at her. 'You know, Miss Baker taught us a nice carol today, but I can't remember all the lines. Will you help me?'
'Sure. I only hope I know it.'
'You do, you know everything! It goes like this.' He jumped off the sofa and stood in front of her. In the dim light of the room his black hair seemed to be even darker. 'Long time ago in Bethlehem, so the Holy Bible said, Mary's boy child Jesus Christ was born on Christmas day.' He had a perfect pitch and Teresa wished he would someday play the piano, just like their mother. 'And I can't remember what's next,' he admitted.
'Hark, now hear the angels sing, a king was born today,' she continued, and Michael grinned happily.
'And man will live for evermore, because of Christmas Day.' James and Tommy joined her, already in the Christmas mood.
'That's it!' Michael clapped his hands. 'Thanks, guys. Hey, you know what? We should start a band!'
Teresa laughed. 'Yeah, sure. And what would be the name?'
'Reese and the Superheroes,' joked James, and they all laughed so hard they couldn't breathe. Teresa and Michael fell onto the sofa, giggling uncontrollably.
A moment later they heard the front door open.
'Teresa? I'm back!' their father shouted from the hallway.
Teresa stood up. He was far too noisy to be sober, she thought. She mentally prepared herself for a fight.
She didn't expect, though, what happened next.
'Dad!' Michael jumped off the sofa and ran to the hallway. Before Teresa could react, he literally dragged his father to the living room. 'Look what Reese bought! Isn't it fantastic?
The man's eyes fell on the tree, its colorful ornaments and blinking lights. 'What the hell is this?!' Oh yes, he was drunk.
'Take them upstairs,' Teresa mouthed to James, who nodded reluctantly. 'Don't worry, Dad, it wasn't expensive.'
'What do you mean, not expensive? I told you we can't afford a goddamn tree, no matter how cheap!' He was only seconds from an outburst, and Teresa was frantically thinking of something she could say to calm him down.
'I know, Dad, I know. But I did all the shopping, bought everything you wanted me to. Besides, I earned money for the tree, didn't take yours.' She was speaking very fast, determined to see the conflict off.
'How could you earn anything? Don't make me laugh! You can't even wash the dishes properly, let alone work for real!'
Teresa felt the tears pricking at the back of her eyes, but didn't let them fall. 'I helped Mrs Tanner with the Christmas cleaning,' she said. 'She was very happy with me, actually.'
'Because she is old and blind,' he gave out an unpleasant laugh. 'Doesn't matter. If you earn any money, you have to bring it to me, do you understand? You're such a bloody idiot, Teresa!'
'Don't call me that! I didn't do anything wrong!'
'Oh, really? We need so many things, and what do you buy with some extra money? A fucking Christmas tree!'
'I have everything under control! The boys have new shoes, they are not hungry, they are not cold. What's so wrong about a little joy in life?'
'Don't talk to me like that, you little shit,' he hissed and took a step towards Teresa. His face was now just a few inches from hers. He grasped her wrist in a vice-tight grip. 'You're old enough to work? Sure, why not. You'll find a regular job after Christmas. And just for the record – all the money comes to me. I keep you all and I'll decide on what to spend it on, understood?'
'Let go, it hurts!' Teresa tried to free her wrist, but her father only tightened his grip.
'I haven't finished yet! That,' he pointed at the tree, 'will disappear in the next five minutes, and don't care how you'll do this, but I want the money you've earned back.' He finally let go of her.
She took a step back, wincing as she tried to move her wrist. 'I don't have that money any more! Why do you want it so desperately? Oh, I know.' She didn't control herself any more, he'd ruined their quiet perfect afternoon. 'You'd prefer I bought a nice, shiny bottle of Scotch for you, wouldn't you?'
Now she saw real fury in his eyes. Without warning, his fist landed on her jaw.
Her father had hit her before, pain was her old friend. That time, however, she underestimated his anger. The force of his punch sent Teresa flying across the room. She hit her head against the wall, her vision blurring at once. She managed to stay upright, but the room was spinning. Through the haze she saw her father coming closer and instinctively covered her face.
'You want joy?!' He hit her again, this time aiming at her stomach. Teresa doubled over, her legs finally giving way. 'I will show you…' Hit. 'One hell…' Hit. 'Of a joy!' Hit.
He just ran amok that time. He beat her repeatedly, his rage not subsiding the least bit. Teresa clenched her teeth, doing her best not to cry out. She wasn't going to give him the satisfaction, she had to be strong.
He finally got tired. Breathing heavily, he looked down at the crumpled figure of his daughter. Then he turned and walked away, knocking over the tree as he passed. The glass ornaments smashed on the floor. 'Christmas is cancelled,' he said and left the room.
Teresa lay still for a few minutes – or maybe hours, she didn't know and didn't care – trying to calm down. Tears were running down her face, but she didn't dare cry out loud. He would come back and beat her again.
Every millimeter of her body hurt, but she wasn't crying with pain. She was crying over her own foolishness. How could she be so naïve, bringing that goddamn tree home? She should have known better than that. Her father had been right, she was such an idiot.
When she heard the front door shut, Teresa dared sit up. Uh, it was bad. She must have hit her head real hard, the whole world was spinning. She took a few deep breaths, waiting for the dizziness to pass, and stood up carefully. She probably had a concussion. Not her first, not her last, she could live with it.
After quickly assessing her injuries and making sure she hadn't broken anything, Teresa moved on to clearing the remnants of the ornaments. Then she went to the bathroom to clean herself up.
She winced when she saw her own reflection in the mirror. A swollen lip, a black eye and a cut on her right cheek, still bleeding slightly, wasn't exactly what she'd hoped for. She had really tried to cover her face, but to no avail. There would be a whole lot of explaining at school the next day. She sighed and carefully washed her face, then reached for a foundation. Over the years she'd become very good at hiding her bruises, even from her brothers.
She only wished she didn't have to do it so often.
When she'd finished, she went upstairs to check on the boys. She knocked softly and entered their room.
They all sat on Michael's bed, shoulder to shoulder, with their backs against the wall. When she opened the door, they cringed before they saw it was her. Teresa's heart broke at the sight.
Without a word, she sat down next to them. Michael snuggled up to her, sobbing quietly. She stroke his hair, whispering soothing words.
James watched her anxiously. 'Are you all right?' he asked finally and ran his hand over her cheek.
'Don't worry about me, I have had worse.'
'That's not exactly comforting,' he sighed. She saw his hands trembling with anger. James, three years her junior, hated the fact that he couldn't defend his sister and that she was always the one getting owned. He could see it all - her too heavy make-up, a nasty bruise on her wrist, her unfocused eyes, giving away the fact that she wasn't really all right.
'There's not much we can do about it. Apart from cutting down on my stupid ideas, of course.' She gave him a small smile, and then changed the subject. 'Okay, guys, time to go to sleep.'
Ten minutes later all three of them were in their beds. Teresa kissed them goodnight and turned down the light. She didn't turn it off completely - after days like that Michael refused to sleep in the dark, and although Tommy and James didn't say anything, Teresa knew they preferred it on, too.
She was about to leave, when Michael opened his eyes. 'Will you stay with us? Please, just for a few minutes.'
'Of course. Scoot over, kid.' Teresa nestled in his bed, and the boy immediately clung to her. She felt achy all over, but her little brother's warm body somehow soothed her shattered nerves. She closed her eyes.
'Reese?'
'Mhm?' She was already drifting off to sleep.
'Will you sing me that carol again?'
He sounded so lost and helpless, a scared child who desperately needed a sense of security in his life. Teresa didn't know that it was possible, but now she hated her father even more than before. He was supposed to take care of them, not hurt them!
She started singing quietly, rocking Michael in her arms. Her soft voice filled the room and soon lulled them to sleep.
Downstairs, the clock stroke midnight. Teresa listened to the twelve chimes, mixed with her brothers' even breathing. She kissed Michael's forehead. 'Merry Christmas,' she whispered before falling asleep too.
'Tess? Teresa, what's wrong?'
Jane's alarmed voice brought Lisbon out of her reverie. She looked around the room, at the same time trying to steady her breathing. She realised she was kneeling on the floor, clutching her chest. She felt dizzy, her heart was pounding and her hands were shaking slightly.
She tried to smile, but it turned out rather wanly. 'I'm sorry I scared you,' she said, her voice trembling. 'It's just... I...' She couldn't utter another word and just started crying.
'Teresa, what is going on?' Now Jane was really worried. He led her to the sofa and took her hand. 'Tess, please, talk to me.'
And she did. In between sobs, she told him the whole story, and all Jane could do was to wrap his arms around her. With her every word his fists clenched tighter and tighter. How he wanted to hurt the bastard who'd broken her!
Slowly, gradually, Lisbon calmed down. 'I'm sorry,' she said, wiping her eyes. 'I'm hopeless, freaking out like this because of a stupid song.'
'Hey, don't say that.' He squeezed her hand. 'I understand.'
Lisbon thought that he, too, had songs like that, bringing back the most painful memories. He really understood what she felt. Maybe that had been what attracted them to each other in the first place – understanding.
She gave a small laugh. 'Look at us,' she said. 'Two miserable people, broken beyond repair-'
'That's not true,' he interrupted her. 'You have already fixed me more times than I could actually count.'
He smiled warmly and kissed the top of her head. 'And I promise you that one day I will fix you, too.'