Content warning: This story deals with Catherine's and Vincent's first Christmas after losing their son, Jamey, during pregnancy.  There are no explicit details but it could still be upsetting. 


Vincent awoke feeling uncharacteristically cold.  Catherine was not in her usual spot, snuggled up to his side.  But then he remembered why... the tiny intruder.  

The prior afternoon, Psyche had arrived to celebrate Christmas with Catherine and him.  This was not the usual way of things.  Allison and Robert, upon discovering that their daughter would not tolerate long separations, had agreed that she would spend Christmas at home with them and then New Year's in the Tunnels in addition to a lengthy summertime visit.  But the prior week Catherine had received a frantic phone call.  Allison's parents had gotten the family a last minute deal on a Christmas cruise... adults-only.  The timing was horrible.  They felt awful asking... but could they take Psyche for Christmas?  Catherine had agreed before even consulting him... she'd known his answer.

Vincent reached over to gently stroke Psyche's back as she clung to Catherine.  He wasn't sure he really believed the "surprised by an adults-only cruise!" story.  What sort of grandparents would do that?  No, he expected it was a kindness on Allison's and Robert's part, dressed up as a huge favor.  Because they knew he and Catherine needed some Christmas joy.  In this very bed, only weeks before, they had welcomed and bid farewell to their perfect, beautiful Jamey.  To lose a child at any time was brutal... but to lose one at Christmastime felt especially cruel.  It seemed the whole world was waiting on the birth of a child while theirs had gone.  In their imperfect way, Allison and Robert had tried to fill the void and Vincent was moved by their kindness.  Like their own little Persephone, Psyche had brought light and joy into their dim and dreary world.

And also hysterical screaming.

Only hours before, they'd gotten her settled into her own chamber after five different Christmas-themed storybooks and Catherine's lullaby.  But she hadn't stayed there long.  She'd woken up screaming about monsters and Cupid and so, lest the whole of the Tunnel community be awoken, Vincent had scooped her up and carried her to his and Catherine's chamber.  Psyche had settled herself in the middle of the bed then snuggled up to Catherine who sang her lullaby again.  With tears in her eyes, Catherine had wrapped her arms around the little girl and gone to sleep.

Through his own tears, Vincent smiled at the two.  When he let out a sigh, he inadvertently woke Psyche.  She turned to him and cocked her head before reaching out and wrapping her fingers around one of his.  

"Are you crying cause of the baby?"

Vincent nodded, unable to speak.

"I never even met him an' I miss him.  He was my cousin...  But he was your baby."

"He's still your cousin, Psyche.  Still... still our baby.  Our Jamey."

"In Heaven with Jesus."

Vincent nodded again.  He wasn't entirely sure how he felt about Jesus but he believed in Heaven and took seriously his responsibility as Psyche's godfather.

"I... I know you still miss Jamey.  But... I will always be your baby, too."

Catherine squeezed Psyche tightly, revealing that she'd woken up and had been listening.  She kissed her hair.

"Even when you're an old lady like me?"

Psyche giggled and nodded.

Vincent smiled through his tears then pulled Psyche into his own embrace once Catherine had released her.  Whatever chill he had felt dissipated as the girl wriggled her nose against his.

"Tell me about when I was a baby?"

Catherine and Vincent exchanged looks.  In truth, they hadn't known her as a baby, only as a toddler and beyond.  But she wanted to believe she'd been with them as a baby and they never bothered to correct her.

"We found you in one of the more distant tunnels," Catherine explained. 

"You were crying out about a monster... just as you were tonight, actually," Vincent added.

Psyche's eyes went wide.

"There was a monster!"

Vincent laughed and shook his head.

"No.  At first, I thought you were talking about me.  That I was the monster."

The seven-year-old scrunched her face up.

"Why would you think that?"

"Because of how I look, Psyche."

The girl adamantly shook her head.

"No.  I wouldn't think you were a monster.  Not even as a dumb baby."

Catherine burst out laughing.

"Agreed.  Really it was just an oddly shaped rock, Psyche.  So Vincent picked you up and we brought you here." 

"I love it here.  Were there bats where you found me?"

"No, no bats.  Not in that part of the Tunnels.  Would you like to go see the bats tomorrow?" Vincent offered.

Catherine shot him a look.

"Bats!" Psyche cried, enthusiastically nodding. 

"Then that's what we'll do.  Before Christmas dinner.  Maybe... maybe stopping by the Mirror Pool?"

Catherine nodded.

"But it's a long walk so we must be well rested.  Will you try to go back to sleep?" Vincent coaxed.

"Yup!" 

Catherine and Vincent watched in amusement as the girl dramatically laid down and closed her eyes.

"Story?" she requested, her eyes clamped shut.

"A poem." 

"Okay..."

The couple settled down on either side of the child and smiled at each other as Vincent began his recitation.

"'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse...'"

By the time the poem ended, Psyche was fast asleep.

Catherine reached over and caressed her beloved's face.

"You... you're a good father, Vincent."

Vincent kissed her hand.

"And you're a wonderful mother...  I saw the Look.  We'll make her wear a veil.  I doubt the bats will approach... but to be safe."

Catherine nodded appreciatively.

"I love you, my Catherine," Vincent murmured, squeezing her hand.

"I love you, my Vincent," she echoed back before nuzzling the sleeping child's hair.

Their joined hands resting over Psyche, the couple soon fell asleep.


After a nearly hour-long walk; Catherine, Vincent, and Psyche were near enough to the desired cavern to hear the bats.  Psyche began screeching in excitement.

Laughing, Catherine lifted her off Vincent's back and set her on the ground. 

"We'll go in in just a second but you need to wear this... just in case a bat flies too close."

Psyche was squirming with excitement but settled down enough for Catherine to drape some netting over her face and cover it with a knit hat to keep it in place.

"Pretty..."

Vincent chuckled as Psyche played with the tulle.  Once Catherine was content, he held his hand out to the child.

"Ready?"

"Yup!"

Catherine took her other hand and the three entered the cavern.

Psyche stared in awe at the myriad bats flying around and gathering on rocks in sociable clumps. 

"Pretty..." she cooed.  She wrinkled her nose.  "Smelly... but pretty."

Catherine and Vincent exchanged amused looks.

"They're very important, too," Vincent explained.  "They help give us flowers and crops which means honey and many other kinds of food."

"Like cookies?"

Catherine smiled.

"Indirectly, I suppose."

"Good for them.  Thank you, bats!" Psyche called out.

The trio watched them for a few more minutes then started on the trek back.  Catherine and Vincent were quieter while Psyche babbled about the bats.  When they were fifteen minutes away from the main hub, they detoured to the Mirror Pool.  Once they entered the chamber, Psyche quieted.  Vincent could feel her little arms tighten around his neck for a moment before he stooped to let her down.

Sniffling, Catherine reached into her bag.  Her eyes filled as she looked again at the drawing Psyche had made for her cousin.

"It's very nice, sweetheart.  I... I know Jamey will love it."

Psyche nodded solemnly and took her drawing while Catherine handed an envelope to Vincent and clasped another to her chest.

Tears began to trail down Vincent's cheeks as he knelt to light a fire.

"Why do we set them on fire?" Psyche asked in a whisper.

"Because we like to believe that when we burn them, the ashes... our words, our drawings... fly up," Catherine explained.

"To Heaven?"

Catherine nodded.

"To Heaven, to Jamey."

A sob racked Vincent's whole body as the fire strengthened.  Catherine and Psyche hurried near and knelt on either side of him.

"Psyche... you go first, please," he requested after kissing her temple.  "Carefully.  Just let the very edge touch the flame then let it go."

The little girl nodded, looked up at the sky peering through a break in the rocks, and whispered.

"Merry Christmas, Jamey."

Catherine rested her head on Vincent's shoulder and caressed his back as the festive drawing caught fire.

When Psyche stepped back, Catherine brought her envelope to her lips then tilted it towards the flames.

"Merry Christmas, baby...  I... I miss you."

Vincent could say nothing.  The words were stuck in his throat.  He was grateful all his love and his grief were etched into the paper he set aflame.  As Psyche scrambled into his lap and Catherine wrapped her arms around him, Vincent allowed the memories to overtake him: his and Catherine's joy over the positive pregnancy test, learning they were expecting a son, debating the virtues of assorted names, his hands resting over her growing belly, the tiny outfits she showed off to him, the sickening sorrow he felt through their connection during one of her check-ups, and then holding his Catherine as she brought their Jamey into the world only to say good bye.

Psyche's soft voice pierced through Vincent's sobs as she wriggled around and hugged him, nestling her face into his sweater.

"You'll see Jamey in Heaven some day... but... but I hope not for a long, long time.  I... I need... you."

"Psyche..." Catherine wrapped her arms around them both.

Vincent took in and let out a deep breath.  In the wake of Jamey's death, both he and Catherine had had moments... sometimes long moments... when they'd wished they could be with him.  But Psyche was right.  However imperfect the arrangement, they had a child who still needed them, a whole community who needed them.  And if Psyche was right, the entire promise of Christmas was bound up in a little boy who would die then live again, allowing everyone else to do the same.  A time would come when he and Catherine would be with Jamey again, when they would be surrounded by all they loved and never be parted.  But, until then, there was still so much love around them.

Vincent embraced his goddaughter tightly then turned her around so she could see the sky.

"I hope Catherine and I are with you for a long, long time, too, Psyche.  But even when we've gone to Heaven, we'll still be there for you."  Vincent pointed to the stars.  "Just look up and know we're looking down at you, my child, and loving you so."

Vincent smiled as Psyche reached out towards the stars. 

Catherine gasped.

Alarmed, Vincent turned to her.

"Catherine, my love..."

"A star... I saw a shooting star."

Vincent looked back to the Mirror Pool in time to see a second star shoot across the sky. 

Catherine clasped the locket she wore in remembrance of her son.

"Thank you, Jamey Boy..."

"Thank you," his father echoed.

"So pretty..." Psyche cooed.

Together, the three watched the fire burn out before starting their walk back to the main hub.

With Psyche content to walk the rest of the way herself, Catherine and Vincent followed with their arms around each other.

"I feel... better," Catherine murmured.

Vincent nodded.

"As do I."

The two shared a kiss that ended with a mutual sigh.  They both knew the following day would bring some sadness.  It certainly wasn't the Christmas they had hoped for.  But it would still be one of hope, light, beauty, and love.


Confession of writing sins:
1.  Taking a small child to see wild bats is maybe not the world's best parenting decision.  But bats are great and the idea that they fly at people for no reason is pretty dramatically overstated.  It also seems like this is something they'd done before and hadn't had prior issues with so with minor precautions it was totally fine.  Source: Me... a person who has handled wild bats several times with nary an incident... not saying it was smart.  Just saying that nothing happened.

2.  There is a brief reference in an earlier Christmas story that makes it seems like an adult JenniAnn only recently learned about Catherine and Vincent losing their son during pregnancy.  However, I couldn't find the specifics of that so I think it was fleshed out in an old YahooGroups post that is lost to time and thus not canon.  So I'm just going with the theory that she knew they'd lost a baby but had virtually no specifics until she was an adult. 

Author's note:
I'm not sure why I decided to start with this story.  It's really quite sad.  I guess I've just been thinking about my family a lot, particularly those who have gone Home.  So if you get a melancholic or bittersweet sense reading some of these, that's probably why.  In particular, I've been thinking about my Uncle Joseph.  I never knew him.  I believe he only lived for a day.  I can't recall when I was told about him or how but I know I must have been quite young because I can remember I had a little windowbox of pansies.  And when I was told we were going to the cemetery, I remember wrapping a few pansies in a damp paper towel and then wrapping that in foil and leaving them at Joseph's grave.  So I don't think it's odd that Catherine and Vincent would be so honest with Psyche.  I appreciate that my parents were honest with me.  Because I think it's good to remember, maybe especially at Christmastime, that people are walking around with wounds we may never see, mourning lives that were never lived here on Earth. 

As for Joseph, it does comfort me to think that he went on to live a full and joyous life with Yeshua.  And I hope that when my Grandma and Grandpa died, he and the other baby they lost filled them in on all their adventures.  And I hope, some day, I get to hear about them, too.  Maybe in a heavenly field of pansies.

Works cited:
"The Night Before Christmas/ A Visit from St. Nicholas" by Clement Clark Moore
Jeremiah 31:15-16