Disclaimer: We own nothing but our thoughts.

No beta. Just us with weekly posts. We've been trying to upload for the last two days. Merry effing Christmas.

In Western Christianity, Christmas begins on December the 25th and doesn't end until January 5th. The twelve days symbolize the time between Christ's birth and the night before the Epiphany (the day the Magi came bearing gifts).

We've taken this celebratory Christmas carol and together created a story for you with our own figurative and/or literal interpretations. We will be sharing our inspiration/prompts at the beginning of each chapter and hope you enjoy.

Chapter One:

Partridge in a Pear Tree

According to Greek legend, the first partridge appeared when Daedalus threw his nephew, Perdix, off the sacred hill of Athena in a fit of jealous rage. Supposedly mindful of his fall, the bird does not build its nest in the trees, nor take lofty flights and avoids high places.

...

Fifteen year-old Alec Cullen stared through the windows of the airport terminal, dreading his first, and hopefully last flight across the country. A relentless Seattle rain set in as he quietly observed. Rainwater pounded the glass, wetting the tarmac, the plane's tires, and the wings, and everything.

Rain and a speeding plane. They didn't mix.

Alec raised an open bottle of water to his mouth. He swallowed down his nervousness along with a stolen bar of Xanax he'd swiped from his father's medicine cabinet. He capped the bottle. The thin plastic shook in his hand.

He wasn't one who scared easily. At least, he never used to be. But, heights … Alec didn't do heights.

At the age of six his twin sister, Jane, in a fit of jealous rage over a Buzz Lightyear doll, had elbowed him off a stone wall near the edge of their property. Jane'd squealed in delight at the time, thrusting her winged-prize over her head in a symbol of victory while her little brother, younger by four minutes, lay quivering in pain on the soft, muddy forest floor below.

Once she noticed him crying on the ground, Jane, who'd always been a little shit, ran off without a word of consolation. At the time, Alec believed she'd run for help. But then the daylight turned to dusk, and the forest creatures so normally resting during the day began to roam the woods that night. Alec, cold, pained, and all alone aside from the stuffed cowboy doll clutched in his hand, heard the rustling around in the leaves and bracken. He'd stared into the dark maze of trees in terror, waiting for the glow of eyes and wet, snarling snouts to emerge from the depths of darkness to devour him.

When his father finally found him later that night, he'd grown cold and quiet in his hysteria, a foul smelling ring of urine staining his jeans. Against Alec's protest, Jane earned a spanking from their father that night, and Alec earned a trip to the ER.

Alec's right arm ached not only from the rain, but also from the memory of a broken limb. After tossing his empty water bottle into a trash can, he absently rubbed his arm, remembering the crack and instantaneous stab of pain.

"You got another one of those pills?

Jane snapped her gum and raised her eyebrows in question. Annoyance bubbled in his chest. If not for her they wouldn't need to board the plan. Wouldn't need to steal anti-anxiety medication from his father's medicine cabinet. Wouldn't need to uproot their lives to move to a place in freaking North Carolina, of all places.

Alec could practically hear the banjos playing in the background.

"No clue what you're talking about," Alec lied.

He rarely confessed to Jane anything he wouldn't want repeated. The only secrets Jane kept quiet were the ones that protected herself.

"You could always get your own refill you know, instead of always sneaking Dad's." Jane inspected her nails. The black polish with glittering moons and stars were chipped near the tips. "Dad'll start to notice soon. He hasn't taken one of those pills since right after," Jane stopped talking but it was too late.

The funeral, they both thought.

Not only did Alec not want to think about climbing onto that big-ass plane, he also didn't want to think about that, or the fact that he and his two sisters were spending their first Christmas without their mother.

"Pretty crappy way to spend Christmas, huh?" Jane nodded at the plane. Although they were complete opposites in looks and personality, Jane's ability to predict his thoughts at the exact moment they crossed his mind still boggled him.

"As opposed to what?"

Jane blew a hot-pink strand of hair out of her eyes. "I don't know. Here on the ground?"

Jane's statement made Alec's heart sink. Why couldn't they have just driven? Why couldn't they just not go at all? It wasn't like a change in zip code was going to set his sister straight.

Heidi, the twins' eight-year old sister, joined the duo. If the approaching anniversary of their mother's death bothered her, she didn't show it. Bouncing on her toes, she pressed her hands on the glass overlooking the tarmac and stared at the big plane. Her face lit up with excitement.

"Daddy says the beach is only a mile from our house," she said, dreamily. "And we're not living in an apartment anymore. We have our own house with our own front yard and backyard, and Grandma Esme's got a tree inside our living room waiting for us."

"How do you know Grandma Esme put up a tree?" Jane asked.

"Because she told me on the phone last night," Heidi whispered, glancing around to ensure their father wasn't anywhere within earshot. But she was lucky. He was still in the bathroom working through his own nervousness over flying.

Alec and Jane shared a look, and wondered how their father, Edward, would react to the sight of a Christmas tree inside his house. They'd all decided not to decorate a tree this year, string up twinkle lights, or open presents on Christmas morning. Usually the three children, along with their mother, spent the holiday binging on take-out Chinese, since she always burned the turkey, while listening to their father yell at the TV and whatever football game was playing at the time. And most definitely, no church. Football was his religion. Work was his religion. And his children?

His children didn't know what to believe.

From the corner of his eye, Alec noticed Edward exiting the restroom. Pale and shaking, the man meandered to a coffee shop and dug some change from his pocket. Alec found his opportunity.

Avoiding his siblings' eyes, he said, "Hey, I'm going to grab a magazine from the gift shop before the flight. Meet you guys back here in a few, okay?"

"Yeah, okay, but we both know you're just stalling. You'll never get on that plane."

"Just cover for me, okay?"

Nodding, Jane stared past her brother and absently tweaked a choppy strand of her multicolored hair. She was eyeing a cute boy lazily sprawled in a plastic chair nearby. He'd hold her attention long enough for Alec to bail on this disastrous trip, and Edward's equally disastrous decision to abandon the only home they'd ever known.

While no one paid him any attention, Alec ducked into the same restroom his father'd recently emerged from. He locked himself in a stall and leaned against the metal wall inside. Breathing in and out in slow breaths, he closed his eyes and avoided imagining just how angry his father would be when he found him. And he would eventually find him.

Sure enough, minutes later he heard the squeak of the restroom door, and his father's voice calling his name. Edward's scuffed, black boots stopped in front of the stall where Alec hid. Alec frowned at the black Docs. His father had worn them on and off since before he was born. His father was anything if not consistently the same.

"Alec." Edward rapped on the stall and grew quiet. Only the sound of Alec's ragged breaths broke the silence. "Talk to me, kid. What's going on?"

"I don't want to fly." Alec lightly banged the back of his head against the wall. "Why can't we drive?"

Edward was quiet a moment, then sighed. "Is this really about the plane?"

"Yes … and no, but mostly yes," Alec admitted.

His father shook the stall door until Alec unlocked it. Edward stood in the open doorway, pure concern for his son's well-being etched on his face. Dark shadows rested below his green eyes. Two-days worth of auburn-colored scruff colored his sharp jaw, the same jaw he shared with his son. Edward shoved his hands into the pockets of his black jeans. The cuffs were tucked inside those old-ass boots, and a black Nirvana shirt popped out from underneath an unbuttoned red plaid shirt. Embarrassment clouded Alec's mind.

"Why can't you leave the past in the past?" he blurted, nodding at Edward's ridiculous attire.

Raising his eyebrows, Edward drew in a deep breath. He blew it out his nostrils, then narrowed his eyes at his oldest son.

"Why can't you, Alec?" Edward said. "Why can't you?"

Sagging against the wall, the anger faded from Alec's features. "I'm scared."

They both knew Alec wasn't only talking about the flight.

"I'm scared too, kid, but you know what's scarier than leaving?"

Alec shook his head.

"Staying," Edward replied. "Every corner I turn, I see your mother's face. I see her smiling and laughing, always laughing. I see her every time I stop for coffee. That girl … that girl loved flavored coffee. When I pass the park, I see her on the playground. She's pushing you and Jane on the swings. She's helping Heidi hang from the monkey bars."

"Dad-"

"I think Jane sees her too." Edward's voice broke. He cleared his throat. "That's why she's giving me hell."

"Dad, it's not Mom Jane sees. It's you. She sees you throwing yourself into work. She sees you distancing yourself from us. She sees you, and she wants you to see her too."

Edward opened his mouth, but he couldn't seem to find the words to say, so he said nothing.

Alec licked his bottom lip and came to a decision. "Let's make a deal."

"What kind of deal?"

"I'll board the stupid plane, but you've got to do something for me, no, for us."

Edward crossed his arms over his chest and rocked back on his heels, waiting for his son to explain.

"You gotta be more … present," Alec quietly explained. "Stop letting Jane run all over you and everyone else. Be there for Heidi instead of expecting us to pick up the slack. You know, I overheard her calling Jane "Mom" the other day."

The color drained from Edward's face, but returning in a scarlet blush of shame. "Are you kidding?"

"No."

"Jesus." Edward rubbed at the area between his eyebrows, an old nervous habit of his. "Okay, okay. You've got a deal. And Alec? I'm … I"m sorry about all this, okay. I just-I forgot who I was before I met her, you know? I don't know who Edward is without an Angie by his side."

"No, I don't know." Alec licked his bottom lip. "Because I've never been anything without her."

...

Despite Alec's nervousness over flying, and an enormous amount of heart-stopping turbulence, he was the first one to fall asleep on the plane.

Picking at the chipped polish on her nails, Jane watched her brother rest.

She knew Alec blamed her for the move, but the decision to leave Washington state behind wasn't entirely her fault. Sure, she'd gotten into some trouble. Stole a few things from the mall. Snuck out of the house late at night and gotten caught after hours. But what the hell else was she supposed to do? How the hell else was she supposed to get her father's attention? When her mother was alive she didn't even have to try. None of them did. Now, she was the only one that seemed to be trying.

Brushing away a tear, Jane told herself no. No, she wouldn't take all the blame. God deserved some of it, too.

...

North Carolina.

Home of the Panthers.

The last place Alec wanted to be.

Except for thirty-nine thousand feet up in the air.

A two story, white-washed brick house came into Alec's zoned-out view. The aged exterior peaked his interest enough for him to peel his forehead off the window and straighten in his seat.

Too bad Alec had wanted to come off as indifferent, if not completely annoyed by the fact that they'd been forced to pick up and move to the very far end of the other side of the country. He could barely keep up with the facade once he stepped out of the car.

It felt cooler than he expected it to feel. Everything looked different than he expected it to look. Full, green trees lined the u-shaped driveway and scattered about the spacious grounds. Not too different from the dense placement surrounding their old, childhood home back in Washington.

It made Alec's heart yearn for the past, minus the near death experience he suffered by the hands of his sister. And then of course, there was his mother. The reason they were here was both their faults. Everything was.

"What you thinkin'?" Alec's heart fell as Jane plopped down on the back bumper, no doubt already knowing and thinking the exact same thing. Regret darkened her auburn eyes, though she'd never admit it. Not once had she said she was sorry. Not for any of it. At least, not out loud. If you asked Jane she could do no wrong, was always right and always won. He was sick of it.

"Nothing." Alec stretched his hand then grabbed his two suitcases out of the back instead of rubbing his arm like he always wanted to in her presence.

Jane watched as her brother walked away, an unsettling feeling bubbling in her throat. Swallowing it down she trailed behind him before remembering herself and catching up to drop the strap of her duffle over her brother's bad shoulder. That would show him for lying to her. Again. Only she was allowed to lie. "Drop that in the biggest room. Would ya, little bro?" She didn't wait for an answer, skipping off around the back of the house and out of sight before she stopped.

Looking out over nothing in particular, she finally let herself cry.

…

The sun had set before Jane finally creeped inside the house.

The Christmas tree Heidi had been so excited about stood lifeless by one of the million front windows. She wanted to plug it in, sit at the skirt and stare up at it like she used to when she was a kid, but the commotion coming from the kitchen intrigued her more.

Back pressed against the dining room wall she listened as her dad and Grandma Esme argued back and forth.

"Do it for the kids. Do it for Jane. God knows she needs some direction in her life." Jane rolled her eyes at her grandma's words. What did that old hag know? She hadn't seen her in years. Not since she and Alec were babies. Or so they were told.

Jane glanced into the living room and licked her chapped lips. This had to be about more than just a tree. What was a meaningless symbol of a useless holiday going to do for her direction in life?

She heard a masculine sigh of near defeat.

"Just for tonight, Edward. My son. My only son." Ooh, granny was good. "Come on, it's Christmas. The annual pageant. It was always your favorite. There will be minimal preaching. Please, please. I promise. Hand to God, if you bring them tonight I won't ask again."

Her father growled faintly. "Fine. But just so we're clear," Dad cut off any form of her celebrating with that Dad voice he'd grown accustomed to over the last year. "This is the last and only time. And you will never ever bring this up again."

"Of course. Of course." The old lady agreed. "Now, how about calling down my grandchildren so you can properly introduce me finally, huh?"

Jane took off for the stairs as quickly as she could without being caught. Bursting into the first room she came across she ran into Alec's suitcases and kicked them out of the way.

"Hey, watch it. There's breakables in there."

"You mean your toy models? Please." Jane rolled her eyes and climbed up on the bed next to her brother.

"They're not toys. They're collectibles."

Jane waved a hand for him to stop. "Whatever they are, they're child's play and we've got bigger problems. Grandma Esme's making us go to church."

Alec looked up from his phone. "All of us?"

Jane nodded. "All of us."

Glancing back in the direction of his phone Alec looked past the screen.

The last time they had all been to church was for a funeral. Her funeral. Just the thought visibly quickened Alec's breath.

"Okay, Alec. Chill. All right? It's just a building. Just a bunch of old, musty walls confining old, musty beliefs. Sh-" Jane caught herself before mentioning their mother again. She knew better. It was the one thing she didn't use to torture him. The one thing their already strained relationship would never survive. It was already being held together by a thread as it was.

Instead of talking, she put her hand on his back. When he didn't shrug her off she scooted closer to drape her whole arm over his shoulders.

"It's going to be okay," she promised and waited for his breathing to slow.

It sounded so convincing, she almost believed it herself.