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There hadn't been much chance to go shopping for gifts with the portals closed to personal business, and with everything that had happened, Jordan had been distracted. This Christmas wouldn't be anywhere near as impressive as the last one. Still, he'd managed to scrape together a couple of things via bribery and favors, and the island was more festive than usual. The holiday wouldn't be a complete wash.

When he woke up, it took him a moment to remember what day it was; when he did, though, he slid quietly out of bed and went to put the coffee on and heat water for cocoa. He'd gotten a loaf of cinnamon bread, without raisins, even, and he took that out of the back of the cabinet where it had been hidden.

Rep's dreams, like every other day lately had been not even slightly festive. Once again he'd found himself running through the dark seeking the familiar warmth of viscera and when he'd found it he'd offered to the waiting shadow the way he always did, obedient, defeated and enslaved.

And like almost every night, he sat up in his sleep, not awake or aware of what he was doing.

As far as Christmas went, Rep had promised last year he would outstrip all the years he'd been unable to give gifts, he'd sworn up and down he would make it great and worthy of both of them and what they'd given him the year before. But things had happened in the run up to christmas, plans had been set aside and he'd done everything he could to avoid thinking too hard about the holiday at hand.

And now, on Christmas morning he had what he'd managed to get thanks to the prompting of other people, and had almost nothing for anyone else.

Still fast asleep, he stayed seated on his bed, and oddly, slowly, like a zombie, reached out his arms in the direction of Jordan, despite consciously having no idea where he was in the room.

Rep remained oblivious to what was going on outside his dreams, still sitting as Jordan addressed him and leaned over to kiss him.

In the cold blackness, cold enough to sap the life out of the world, cold enough to press imminent death in all around him. If he didn't reach out, he would die, freeze to death here in this world. He would fail the shadow. He would fail himself.

Bloodlust came so easy to him. A natural. And the figure presented itself so readily.

In the real world he reached out to take hold of Jordan's throat.

The touch was satisfying, warmth, the only warmth in this world. There was always a struggle, that was acceptable. Death throes, tolerable. There would be warmth again for a time.

Warmth. A break in the silence, he let it seep into him.

He woke.


Jordan's panicked yells finally reached him and he found himself dazed and confused once again back in the world of the waking. He let go as if Jordan's skin burned him, wide eyed and confused, looking at his hands in shock.

"What the <********>

"What was what," Harrison mumbled from deep under the marzipan, usually an early riser but it was the first time he'd slept in a week.

"Dreams that make you grab people?" Jordan sat down on the bed, hesitated for half a moment, then slipped back under the blankets. He was spooked, but it wasn't quite enough to override the need for touch. "What are they about?"

Harrison stirred uneasily, rolling over.

Sacrifice. The cold, distant voice asking if Harrison would die for him. He remembered that instant pretty clearly.

He put a groggy hand on Rep's back.

"You...been having dreams about...? ...What time is it."

"About her." Rep replied to Harrison as curtly as he could. "It's sort of new. I didn't think it was even ******** like, real. I thought I was dreaming it, I've woke up a few times like, reaching out? I've never done anything though, was why I thought it was just like that sleep paralysis s**t."

He rubbed his head exasperatedly. "********, if it's real then. I don't know." He pressed a hand on the spongy fruitcake that passed for their bed. "Maybe I shouldn't be sleeping here."