What If We Believe [on hold]

3. There's no time to waste

THE HOLLOW CLICK-CLICK of the light switch smothered the joy of hours passed. Something shifted behind her and another empty click echoed from the living room.

"Power outage," Derek sighed, confirming her worst fears, just as a series of expletives rolled from the kitchen.

"Shit, Kass! What are we gonna do now? Feed em salmonella for dessert?" Lorraine groaned.

Ashlyn's stomach lurched at the thought.

"What do we do now?" She echoed, voice frantic as she turned on Derek.

"We'll figure this out. I'm gonna go check on everyone and then we'll make a plan, okay?" Calloused hands cupped her cheeks and soft lips pressed to her forehead in a gentle kiss. "Have faith, love."

Ashlyn's nod was weak, her hands reaching just as he drew further into the darkness and she clasped at thin air. Her hands fell to her side and twisted in the hem of her aged Christmas sweater, fingers clinging much as her heart clung to that very word Derek had left her with; faith.

I can do that, she thought, breathing through happy thoughts of safety, faith, and promise, even as she felt herself slowly sink beneath the calm that struggled to keep her afloat.

Voices of hope and defeat warred within, while the painful noise of chaos beat against her skull. Children sobbed and strangled cries for mommy bled through the walls, while words meant to soothe and comfort were a muted balm to the darkness that ailed.

Her fingers reached again for the light switch—her lifeline—as she clung to the broken promises of this night. Her chest ached and stars danced behind her vision with the shaking of her head, an attempt to dislodge the frenzied thoughts that had begun to take root.

Our first Christmas, ruined. The thought slipped through, and she groaned, turning to rest her head against the wall.

"Ash?" He spoke her name softly, his voice finding her before his hands did. She felt the warmth of his presence, the ghost of his touch against her back—a saving grace pulling her back to the surface. Her hand slipped against the light switch as she turned and sought his face.

But, then she heard it, those same concerns that had plagued her thoughts spoken aloud. That one truth she'd refused to acknowledge.

"It's over, Zi. Christmas is done." Bethany's muffled words were a lance to Ashlyn's chest. Even through the wall, her defeat was evident. "What are we going to tell the kids now?"

The familiar itch returned to Ashlyn's forearm, prickling in competition with the icy picks piercing her heart. This couldn't be it. Christmas couldn't be over, just like that. Her fingers curled against the plastic casing of the lightswitch with a phantom scratch.

"No," she spoke, the volume of her voice startling her. No, this couldn't be it.

She gave the switch another flick, knowing it wouldn't work but still desperately wishing it would, as Derek's touch moved across her arm and climbed towards her fingers. Weaving his fingers through the gaps in hers, he turned her towards him, tucking her against his chest. His touch brought relief to her tense muscles and weary mind as she sunk deeper into his hold.