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He stood before his own front door, feeling absurdly like he should knock, like a stranger visiting a stranger's house.

He reached for the knob, still not knowing what he was going to say or do, when it was pulled open from the other side.

It was Jon. "James? What news do -" It must have been written all over his face, because Jon, who was always so jolly and cheerful, broke down almost immediately. "No... No, it can't be? Not Emily? Is she...?"

James didn't say anything, but he didn't need to. On some level he was aware that Jon was giving him a hug, the hard kind only a brother can give, but he could barely feel it.

"Where are the kids?" he finally asked, knowing he wouldn't be able to put it off any longer.

"They're in the kitchen," Jon said, pulling away. And then, as a useless afterthought, he added: "They already ate, so... yeah."

"Thank you, Jon," James said, not really knowing what he was thanking him for, but at least it was something to say.

"Do you want me to -?"

"No. I'll tell them. It... It's my job. I have to take care of them. I have to take real good care of them. I promised I would."

"I'll come with -"

"Jon, please. I... I need to be alone with my kids right now. Please understand I'm not trying to push you away, it's just..."

"I understand, brother. You do what you need to do. I'll be just outside if you need me."

"I know."

"And James?"

"Yes?"

"Know that my prayers go with you."

James looked at the gaping black hole his front door had become, like a mouth ready to swallow him whole. His children were in there somewhere, waiting for their mother to come home. "Prayers won't help me where I'm going."

Jon tried to say something, but in the end, all he could do was turn away and cover his eyes.

James stepped over the threshold, feeling like an intruder in his own house. Has it always been this dark in here? He'd lost all track of time, but surely it couldn't be this late already?

He checked the window and was surprised to see that only a sliver of sunlight still remained, peeking over the mountain top like a sleepy eye. There was a cloud hovering off to the side, catching the last of the silver rays, shining brilliantly against the pink and orange sky. It was exactly the kind of thing Emily would have rushed outside for, dragging her easle behind her, clumsily trying to balance her paints and brushes all at the same time. This was the first sunset she would never get a chance to see. The first of many. The first of every sunset for the rest of eternity...

James shut the door, partly because he didn't want Jon to see him cry, partly because he didn't want any more of that beautiful light to seep into his home, light that his darling Emily would never be able to feel on her face again.

He shut it too loudly.

"Daddy?" little Valery's voice drifted down the dark hallway, blasphemously cheerful. "Daddy, is that you?"

"I'm coming, sweetheart," he called, saying a silent prayer in his head.

Gods up in heaven, I don't know if you can hear me or not, but please... if you can just help me get through this... I'll never ask anything else of you. Just let me and my family get through this first night, and then we can get by on our own. That's all I ask... Just, please...

Let us get through this first night.

*

The moment he set foot in that kitchen, Valery's face lit up even brighter than the setting sun. "Daddy!" she yelled and gave him a big hug around the waist, her tiny body pressed up against his legs. She looked up at him, her eyes so huge, and in a huffy tone of voice she asked: "Where have you been? We had to eat Uncle Jon's cooking!"

James put his hand down on top of her head and gave her hair a bit of a ruffle, but he was actually looking at the boys. They were sitting at the supper table, perfectly still, not saying a word, staring at their father in a way he has never seen on faces so young. It was a patient kind of worry, a look that said they were hoping for the best but expecting the worst.

They know something happened.

"Daddy?" Valery said, making him jump. He had almost forgotten she was clinging to his legs. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

"I'm okay, sweetheart. Don't worry about me." He got down on one knee so he could return her hug proper, squeezing her tightly against his tired, aching body. As she rested her head on his shoulder, James considered simply not telling them. It was almost dark already. If he told them now, they'd never be able to get to sleep. Maybe he could wait until morning, give them one last night believing their mother was still alive and well? Surely that wouldn't be too much to ask, to preserve his children's happiness just a little while longer?

You're a coward, James. You don't want to tell them because you're afraid.

He couldn't argue with that, so he simply held his daughter until the option was taken out of his hands.

"Dad?" It was Luke, finally mustering up the courage to ask the question he must have been holding back this entire time. "Where's Mom?"

"She's..." James was hoping he'd have figured out something to say by now, or that the right words would just appear by themselves, but no such thing was happening. He was still just the same tired Fox, hugging his daughter for as long as he could while she was still happy, before the words he still could not find would rip that happiness away.

Valery squirmed in his arms and looked back at her big brothers, sitting at the table where the five of them had shared their meals for almost a decade. "She's with Healer Beth, stupid. Uncle Jon said Healer Beth would make her all better. Right, Daddy?"

Now all eyes were on him: three pairs of beautiful, waiting eyes, and he still didn't know what to say to them.

"Is she, Dad?" Luke asked, the dying rays of the sun just skimming over his face.

Valery was getting restless in his arms. He's been holding her for so long that even she must know something wasn't right. He took her by the shoulders and put her at arm's length so he could look her in the eyes. She was worried now, he could tell by the way she was biting on her lip and shifting her weight from one foot to the other. By the gods, it was already starting and he hasn't even said anything yet!

"Valery, dear..." He tried one last time to think up some miraculous sequence of words that would let her know that her mother wasn't going to be around anymore, but that also wouldn't hurt her too badly. He couldn't do it, because no such sequence of words existed. These children had lost their mother, and no amount of soft talk could dampen such a blow. In the end, the truth was the only way open to him. "Your mother, she... she got hurt. But don't worry, Healer Beth made sure she didn't feel any pain."

"When is she coming back?"

"She..." Oh dear gods, please give me the strength to get through this, I beg of you!

Luke was the first to realize, as he so often was. In the dim glow of twilight, he could actually see the horror break upon his son's face, first taking root, then exploding in one cataclysmic burst. He clapped a hand to his mouth and turned away as if to throw up, but he only sat there, shaking, his eyes wide and staring at the floor.

Tim was second. His reaction was more subtle, but no less striking. His body went limp, his shoulders slumped; a quiet boy who had suddenly turned into a living doll. His eyes bored straight into his father's, unblinking. He could almost hear the silent plea as if it were spoken out loud: Please tell us Mom is okay. Please, please...

"Daddy?" Valery was on the verge of panic now. "Where's Mommy? Why won't you answer me?"

She was so beautiful, just like her mother. Looking upon her face was like being transported back into that quaint little room that smelled vaguely of rubbing alcohol, waiting for the end to come, except this time he wasn't waiting for an end. This was a beginning; a terrible, terrible beginning.

Will you give them a hug for me?

Sure thing, my love. I'll give them the biggest bear hug ever, and I'll be sure to tell them it's coming from you.

"Boys, come here for a second."

They looked at him, but they did not move. Perhaps they were unable to. James knew the feeling. It was the same thing he went through when he couldn't bring himself to step over the threshold and into that room. They already knew what was coming, but the moment they came to him, that would make it real. As long as they sat there, all alone, then this moment would not pass over to the next. Even if this moment was a torturous pit of fear, they would much rather stay there forever, than transition into the moment when those fears become reality.

James motioned for them to come closer, using his last ounce of willpower to keep his emotions under lock and key. "Please, boys," he said. "I know you're afraid, but it's okay. You can come to your Daddy."

Tim slid off his chair and slowly made his way around the table, moving like a sleepwalker. He had the strangest look in his eye; part fear, part foreboding, like he wasn't approaching his father at all, but rather some nasty kind of trap merely pretending to be his father, a trap filled with sharp spikes and poisoned needles.

Luke was still staring at the floor, his body doubled over. His shoulders heaved, but any noises he might have made were muffled by his hands, clamped over his mouth with such tightness the tips of his claws had vanished into his fur. James couldn't tell if he was trying to stop himself from vomiting or crying. Maybe it was both. Yet another sensation he became well acquainted with today.

"Luke, it's okay."

Luke shot him a sideways glance with an eye he barely recognized. It was the eye of a crazy person, jittering around in its socket as if searching for escape. He shook his head, intent on staying right where he was, frozen in that moment before his fears could become real.

Emily, why did you have to leave me? I can't do this on my own. I need you...

You'll take good care of the kids, won't you?

I don't know if I can, Emmy. You've always been so much better at this than me.

It's okay. You just need to be brave for one moment, and then time will take care of the rest.

James blinked. Emily never said that, did she? Was his imagination running away with him, or was he on the verge of going crazy? Did it even matter? Even if that voice was just a fabrication of his own mind, the words were no less true. His children needed him to be brave. They needed him to be strong. They needed him to be there for them, and even more importantly, they needed him to make them be there for each other.

"Luke. Come here."

The boy hesitated, but only for a second. He got down and came to him like one approaching the gallows, one step at a time, delaying the moment for as long as he could.

James grabbed all three of his children and pulled them together, Tim on the left, Luke on the right, and little Valery in the middle. "This is from your mother," he said, hugging them close so they couldn't see the tears well up in his eyes. He had to be brave now. He had to be braver than he's ever been in his entire life. "She asked me to give it to you because she can't anymore. She asked me to tell you that she loves you all very, very much."

"Daddy!" Valery was almost screaming now. "Where's Mommy? I want Mommy!"

"Honey..."

Be brave... Be brave...

"...Mommy's gone to heaven now."

A small sound escaped Luke's throat; a painful, phlegmy sound, not quite a cry, not quite a sob. Tim was still limp as a ragdoll, silent as the grave. Has the boy spoken even a single word since he came home? It worried him. This utter silence was not natural. And Valery...

She squirmed against his chest, fighting against his embrace. He looked down, and what he saw would haunt his dreams for months.

His little girl was looking up at him, and her face... by the gods, her face... It was slowly transforming into a mask of pure agony, torn apart from the inside by a pain and sorrow much too big for such a young girl to handle.

Oh, Emily... What do I do?

He wished he could take it back, but it was far too late.

She opened her mouth and she screamed, a blood curdling, ear-piercing scream, like she was being murdered. The sound tore through the house and cut into his heart like a blade.

"Sshh, sshh, it's okay... it's okay..." he crooned, holding his children tight tight tight, but she wouldn't stop screaming.

"Mommeeeeee!!" she wailed, alternating between burying her face against his shirt and trying desperately to break free. "Mommeee!"

"It's okay, darling, I've got you, Daddy's got you, everything's going to be okay, I promise."

By the gods, can't you think of anything more substantial to say!?

Like what!? What else is there to say!? What words are there that could possibly make this okay!? There aren't, because things are not okay, and that's exactly why I'll say things are going to be okay! Because they're not! They need to hear it, even if they know it's not true!

Luke was crying, too. He was trying not to, but James could feel the wet patch forming on his shoulder. He was trying to be brave for his siblings. Such a good boy.

Valery's words had deteriorated into inarticulate wails and hitching gasps, so intense he worried the girl would suffocate in her grief.

Tim was still deathly silent, but the dam had broken and the tears were flowing freely, albeit with the same unnatural silence that now covered him like a shroud, but at least it was coming out. Holding something like this on the inside would only cause him more pain down the road. Better to let it out now. Better to let the tears flow. Better to... to...

James couldn't keep it in any longer. He squeezed his children tightly, just as he had promised, and they cried together as a family. They cried for the loss of a wife and mother, a best friend and lover. They shed a tear for every fond memory that lay in their pasts, and they shed a tear for every day that lay in the future, a future she was no longer a part of. It stretched before them like a long, dark path, winding its way to an unknown destination.

They stayed like that for a very long time, huddled together until the last rays of daylight bled away and disappeared behind the mountain tops.

At least they already ate, James thought, holding his crying children in the dark.

He didn't know how he was going to get through this night.

---

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