She was born at exactly three in the morning on the twenty-fifth, her incessant crying a declaration of her existence in this world. Her mother, a middle-aged woman with worry lines permanently carved into her face, gazed impassively down at her second child. Her eyes displayed the weary knowledge beneath the emotionless façade, and her heart beat rapidly as fear enveloped her entire being.

She looked so beautiful, even as she wore out her tiny lungs with body-racking sobs. Her smooth, velvety skin bore no marks. Her eyes shone with a virtue long shamed by society.

Innocence.

It was something that a lot of people tended to overlook, especially in the face of a crying newborn. The mother readjusted her position on the bed and raised her shirt up, sighing as she did so. The sobbing immediately ceased to exist as the baby latched onto one of her breasts and began to feed. 

She'd had a rough early morning, giving birth to this child. It never became easier, the pain was as intense as ever. But she hadn't allowed herself any more than an hour to rest, wanting to hold her baby in her arms. She hadn't felt this way when she gave birth to Crystal, only realizing what she had missed when her firstborn had slowly began to undergo sudden changes at such a young age. And it certainly wasn't the child's fault. After all, the woman wasn't meant to be a good mother. She had only ever wanted a doting husband. Having children was never meant to be part of the picture.

But now it was. She needed them. They cemented her crumbling marriage, trapping her husband into a commitment he never wanted to have. But there was certainly no escape now. One child was cause for messy complications. Two would be his downfall.

And two she would have.

The woman leaned back against the hospital bed and closed her eyes, the baby still focused on feeding. A sudden chill ran down her spine and she pulled the blanket up just a bit more, believing it would trap them both from the cold, unaware of the battles ahead.

Unaware that they were watching.

In that moment, the woman made her wish. Her first selfless Christmas wish, as she relished in the momentary silence of the hospital room. Hoping for the best, she slowly fell asleep.

•  ☆  •

He was watching them alright, scratching his unruly white beard as he gazed at the hungry newborn. The mother had made her Christmas wish, and what a wish it was!

It was a request doomed from the moment she silently uttered the words. He knew this, knew how it would end, but who was he to ignore the request of a desperate mother?

I suppose there wouldn't be any harm in prolonging the inevitable, he thought to himself, standing up from his chair and running his hand over the snow globe sitting on the table in front of him. Almost immediately, the image of the mother and her child wavered and disappeared, leaving behind a hazy ball of glass.

His eyes then flickered towards the stuffed toy in the corner. His lips curling into a sad little grin, he made his way to the other side of the room and picked the toy up, cradling it gently in his arms.

"You, my friend," he whispered, "have an important task to do."

And whether or not that was a call for bravery or a farewell said all on its own, the teddy bear gazed back into the old man's eyes, its own black orbs illuminated by the flames crackling in the cottage's fireplace.