Title: Advent

Summary: His life finally felt as if it was back on the right track. But as a familiar person turns up at his front door, Ethan can't help but wonder what sort of impact his sudden appearance will have. Change is supposed to be for the better, right?

Disclaimer: Standard disclaimers apply.

Lesson one: one should not attempt to type fanfiction at two in morning, let alone decide to submit anything. I think that's a fair warning, yes. :D I mean... lesson. With that being said, I'll apologize now for any and all injustice that I may cause, as well as for any abject lameness that might occur. Things will probably start off slow, though.

Set after the events of the game. Because that's unexplored territory at the moment. Oh yes, I went there.

PS. Do not like the formatting of this document manager. B|

The rain wasn't as oppressive as it used to be.

For the first time in as long as he could remember, Ethan Mars could watch as the rain steadily peppered the windows without an overwhelming sense of dread. He no longer felt as if he had to count each and every drop, no longer felt as if the elements were fighting against him. No, for the first time in a long time, things felt relatively… normal.

Of course, that was as far from the truth as it could get. Things would never be considered normal again. The innocent façade of his perfect life had been fractured two years ago, and things had been barely on the mend when the trauma of the past month had caught up, making a normal life unnattainable, the very idea shattering into pieces.

A 'trauma'. That's all it was referred to these days. Tragic events that led to tragic outcomes.

Ethan preferred not to think about it, to push it to the farthest corner of his conscience. But there were always constant reminders, things that made reveling in the bliss of ignorance impossible. Everything came flooding back the moment he brushed his hand against the remainder of his butchered finger, everytime he caught a glimpse of children playing with harmless origami figures… everytime he looked into his son's eyes.

The blackouts. The nausea. The rain. All of it flooded back in a rush.

Shaun had been a mere ghost to him prior to the events, nothing but a shell. Finding him well, finding him alive, that was all Ethan could have asked for. However, the notable transition between his son's personality before and after had not gone unnoticed. It was disheartening to think about.

"Do you want your night light on, Shaun?" Ethan had asked once.

"No, dad, that's okay," Shaun replied, curling up a little under the blankets. It took him a moment before he finally continued, voice quiet, "I stopped looking for monsters under the bed."

"Why's that?" the question had left his mouth before Ethan could rethink his choice in words, feeling a little like an idiot as he leaned against the doorframe. Shaun's eyes never left his small study stable, half-folded pieces of paper littering the desk. After another pause, his hand had emerged from underneath the covers, resting atop where his heart would be located.

"Because they're in here."

Haunting. That was the only word to describe the look in Shaun's eyes that night. Shaun was a kid; he was supposed to be afraid of the dark, the Bogeyman and other figmented creatures, and it was Ethan's job to save him, protect him. As well as almost taking his life, the Origami Killer had promptly stolen Shaun's childhood. It was a pitiful feeling, to know that he could rescue his son from the clutches of death, yet the one thing he could not protect him from was reality.

The psychoanalyst assured him that his son was coping well with the stress and trauma, especially for someone at his age. They had called him 'stable' and said that he was 'on the mend'. There had been some reassurance in those words. That meant things could return to a state of normality, right? It meant they wouldn't have to pretend the horrific events never happened.

It meant they could just live.

The incessant ticking of the clock hanging on the wall broke Ethan free of what seemed to be his permanent state of mind these days. His eyes moved from the rain-splattered windows to the clock, surprised that it read quarter to two. Time had really flown. Despite his previous train of thought, he smiled. In a half hour he would leave to pick up Shaun from school. He decided today that he would walk the distance to the school, rather than taking the car.

If the rain decided to let up, anyway. In the meantime, he had another half an hour to himself. Looking down at the sketch paper set up before him, Ethan was surprised that he hadn't so much as drawn a single line. Sighing, he set down the pencil he had been absently holding and pulled himself to his feet, shaking the stiffness from his legs. The blank canvas stared back at him bitterly, to which he just shook his head.

Amazed that he had even landed a job with all the media attention following him around, he had been actively avoiding producing any decent work. All his energy had been devoted to his son and not much else. It wasn't exactly the way he intended to restore his career as an architect, but it always seemed less important when put into perspective. I'll start later, he always assured himself.

He never did.

The tapping of rain against the glass was almost a soothing symphony, carefully concealing the dismal underlying tones. Ethan crossed the apartment floor, soon ending up in the kitchen. He rested his palm on the fridge handle for a time, staring at his distorted reflection on the silvery surface. Aside from the rain, it was quiet.

And lonely.

With a grunt, he pulled the door open, carefully observing everything located inside the fridge. As he reached for an ever-present carton of orange juice, he made a mental note to pick up something up for dinner later in the evening. Pizza always seemed to be a popular choice. Stifling a yawn, Ethan pushed the door to a close and walked over to the dining table. He set his prize down before assuming a seat, skimming over a few articles located in the newspaper that had been left out.

The walls of text couldn't hold his attention for long. The words blurring before his eyes, he found himself thinking of Madison. The last time he had heard from her was a few days ago. She had been reluctant to divulge in the details of the story she was covering, but knowing her as he did, it was probably something 'out there'. He didn't devote any energy worrying over her safety. She had proved many times that she was capable of looking after herself. The thought had caused a hint of a smile to appear on his lips, vanishing just as quickly.

Ethan pushed a hand through his dark hair then, resting his chin in his palm. He considered the newspaper for a while longer before reaching for the carton, shaking it some. He was about to remove the lid when a sharp knock at the door caused him to cease motion. It took all of three seconds for him to process what was happening, promptly replacing the orange juice back on the table.

His movements had been sluggish, alluding to the just how tired he was feeling, but he had eventually made it to the front door. A slight frown creased his brow as he reached for the door handle, wondering at who the visitor could be. Either his new home address had been leaked to the press or it was the old lady from downstairs back to offer more sugar cookies.

Unless…

A little too excitedly for his own liking, Ethan pulled the door open with more force than was necessary.

Needless to say, his expectations had fallen short. Disappointment was soon replaced with surprise as he looked the visitor up and down, the shock registering on his face as clear as day. They had met on only a few occasions, never for social reasons, but it was hard to misplace that face when he was being plastered all over the media as a modern day hero, though he was sceptical at first glance.

"Agent Jayden?" Ethan voiced aloud, leaning slightly on the door.

"Just Norman Jayden now. Mind if I intrude?" Jayden asked, fussing with his coat pockets. The way he spoke, it was almost as if it was normal for him to be standing right outside his apartment.

Although it had been posed as a question, Ethan had a feeling there was no yes-no about it. Something about the agent seemed off, resigned almost, as unflappable as he appeared at the moment. Against his initial suspicion, he decided he owed it to the agent. After all, without his help Shaun might be… well.

Ethan moved out of the way, allowing room for the agent to pass through. Jayden nodded politely in his direction as the door was closed with a soft 'click', walking a ways into the room.

Ethan watched for a moment, still frowning as the agent began to observe a wall fixture he must have found interesting. He was still trying to wrap his head around the sudden appearance of the heroic agent, unable to reach a satisfying conclusion. Ethan folded his arms and leaned back against the wall, deciding to let him speak first.

But the first thing Ethan wanted to know was why on earth he was here.

The second thing was how the hell he got this address.