Unfortunately for the Bard, a small burrow of plot bunnies has taken up residence in his/her brain. He/she shall be quite busy for a while. Disclaimer: Nope, not mine, all Tim Burton's. I would have enjoyed seeing at least some sketches of Jack and Sally's bombastic Halloween wedding. I have introduced two "OC"s. Are you prepared for the awkward times ahead?
SUFFER THE LITTLE CHILDREN
Any residents of HalloweenTown that were out and about on January 1st at around 24:30, or half past midnight, and that were also around the Doctor's abode could have been privy to an interesting sight. At this very specific time and place, Jack and Sally Skellington were leaving the laboratory to head back to Jack's mansion, Jack wrapped around Sally, Sally holding a bundle of squirming blankets. Of course, the blankets themselves weren't squirming; the child inside of them was. Jack and Sally's child. (A/N: Yes, they had a kid. If you want to know how they managed to have a kid, go read something else. In this fic, they just did. Sheesh.)
Jack and Sally were just like any new parents. Well, as alike as a skeleton and doll could be to any parents. As soon as Sally settled the baby in its crib, Jack grinned and pulled her close for a peck on the cheek.
"Unwrap him, then!" he whispered excitedly. Giggling, Sally gently pulled the blankets away from the child's face.
He was quite adorable, and definitely took after his mother; he had her large dark eyes and tufts of red hair were already growing in. He yanked two stick-thin arms, like his father's but with stitching, out of the blankets to rub at his eyes, slowly waking.
"Oh, Jack! He's so handsome."
"Only because he resembles you more," Jack replied with a chuckle.
"I've come up with the perfect name, too."
"What would that be, dear?"
"Edgar. Edgar Skellington." (A/N: Not very original, I know…)
"Edgar," Jack repeated, grinning once more. "How marvelous."
By this time, little Edgar was finally blinking his huge eyes open. In the dim light, he began to make out two shapes above him.
"Oh look, Jack. He sees us. Hello, sweety," Sally cooed. "I'm your mother."
"And I'm your father, little one," Jack added quietly.
Baby Edgar's eyes traveled back and forth between the stitched-together rag doll that was his mum and the towering skeleton that was his father. His tiny stitched mouth quivered.
At approximately 1:16 in the morning on the first of January, half of HalloweenTown was awakened by an infant's wail.
~17 years, 353 days later~
Teenage Edgar glanced out of his tower window and shivered. A few vampires glided past the murky glass, and he scrambled back to his bed to burrow under his sheets, as usual.
As improbable as it may seem, Edgar was afraid of HalloweenTown.
Sure, he had come to accept that he lived there, and likely would live there for the rest of his life. He also got over the rather frightening appearances of his parents and loved them immensely, as any child would love their parents. The town's other inhabitants, however… Now, logic would dictate that, since Edgar was born into HalloweenTown and hadn't received much outside stimulus, he would be perfectly comfortable in his environment. That wasn't the case.
Jack and Sally did everything they could think of to help their son adapt. When he was very young, they took him out often about the town in a buggy, but every time someone would approach, usually murmuring about how cute and creepy he was, he would cry or cover his eyes with his blanket, or both. As he grew, Edgar's parents took him to see Doctor Finkelstine for therapy of sorts. And though Edgar came to like the good Doctor, his methods were unorthodox at best, and, more importantly, didn't work. The most Jack and Sally could do was drag Edgar out every Halloween for the yearly festivities, during which he usually hid in the town's back alleys, trying to avoid the musicians that lurked back there.
Edgar feared that his…well, fear made him and his family the laughingstock of the town. However, while there was a bit of a chuckle sometimes behind closed doors, the townsfolk weren't mean, and they were truly concerned for him. His screams were rather flattering in this somewhat backward place, but they didn't want him to be miserable his entire life.
With Edgar's eighteenth year approaching, his irrational fears hadn't lessened much. He could manage to walk about town, or go to the Mayor's paranoid town meetings if he absolutely had to. He just focused on the cobblestone ground in front of him instead of the abominations around him. The bulk of his time was spent either in his room in the tower or in a dead tree on a small plot of fenced-off land behind the mansion. In both of these places he surrounded himself with books. Fairy tales, science fiction, recipe books, historical tomes, he furiously read them all. He used the material he read as an escape. In his books, he didn't have to live in HalloweenTown. A by-product of his reading was that he wrote his own stories, his own adventures, his own escapes.
Edgar had one tangible escape. Every year, when the snow covered the town near the end of December, Jack took his family to visit the bright, merry ChristmasTown. No, Jack had never lost the feeling of wonder for the colourful jubilee of that town, and Sally held a near equal awe for the place. Edgar, however, honestly considered running away to the cheerful snowy village many times, though he'd never admit that to his parents. Just knowing that their vacation of sorts would happen without doubt helped give Edgar something to look forward to every year, as well as give him an outlet of sorts before he came back home for his birthday on the first of January.
The Skellington vacation was approaching again. The bags were packed, the townsfolk had all come to say goodbye and happy trails, and the family was getting ready to head out the door. Edgar was in his room, straightening his pinstriped and coat-tailed vest, made for him by his mother, of course, for the umpteenth time. Said mother knocked lightly on his door.
"Edgar?"
"Come on in, Mom." Sally stepped into his room and smiled at him sweetly. She approached him to straighten his tie, chuckling.
"You worry so much about your vest, but your tie's crooked."
"Thanks, Mom," Edgar mumbled, smiling. Sally finished and stepped back.
"You're so handsome. Just like your father."
"I know; you always say that," Edgar replied good-naturedly. After a short silence, he grew serious. "Mom…why don't we move to ChristmasTown?" Sally gave him a withered look.
"Oh, Edgar…" she sighed. Edgar plopped on the bed.
"I know, but why not? You love it, Dad loves it, I love it. Why can't we just move?" Sally settled down beside him, wrapping him into a sympathetic hug.
"Edgar, this is our home. I know that you've never really enjoyed living here, but I still have faith in you. Some day, you'll grow to love HalloweenTown. Picking up and moving won't solve your problems." She looked up at him with a mischievous smirk. "Besides, you know this town would fall apart without your father here to keep it together." Edgar showed a hint of cheering up.
"Are you guys coming? Mr. Claws is going to wait for us by the portal, so let's not be late," Jack called from downstairs, already sounding excited.
"Let's go, Edgar. He might leave without us." Sally laughed lightly, rising with Edgar, who was still looking down. "Cheer up, sweety. I seem to have a feeling that this year's vacation will be a great one. For all of us," she added, winking. Edgar knew better than to question his mum's intuition. He forced a small smile and joined Sally at the door. They descended the staircase in an amiable silence to the parlour, where Jack was pacing back and forth across the room. He stopped mid-stride when he noticed them arrive and grinned widely.
"Are we ready now?" Edgar felt a real smile spread across his own face at his father's anxiousness. Jack's grin was downright contagious sometimes.
"Yeah, Dad. Mom and I were just talking."
"We can talk on the way there. Let's go already!" Sally and Edgar laughed as Jack practically bound out the door.
Edgar's mood lessened a bit when he walked outside to find the townspeople gathered and waving goodbye yet again. Thankfully, they had remembered to distance themselves for his sake. Edgar fought the urge to grab his mother's hand; he was almost eighteen, for goodness' sakes, and focused on the stone path on his way to the automobile. When they got on the road that snaked its way through the forest, Edgar's mood rose again, and he started feeling some of the excitement that his father harboured. Slowly he began slipping into his vacation state of mind, letting all thoughts of HalloweenTown tumble out of his mind. He could forget its existence for a whole week and a day. With that happy thought front and center, Edgar dozed off against his window.
~Time jump brought to you by Vincent Price~
Sure enough, as the Skellingtons came upon the portals in the forest, they could make out Sandy Claws' blindingly red suit against the dull browns and tans of the trees. He had awaited their arrival as he said he would, even though the Halloween family was admittedly a little late. Edgar couldn't suppress a small smile; such bright colours didn't exist in HalloweenTown.
The Skellingtons unpacked themselves and their luggage from their automobile as they and Sandy Claws exchanged pleasantries.
"Hello, my dear friends. I alm-"
"Deepest apologies, Mr. Claws," Jack interrupted. "We were a little late in getting everything and everyone," here he glanced pointedly at Edgar and Sally, chuckling. "Into the car and on the road."
Sandy smiled warmly. "No worries, Jack, I was saying that I almost worried you wouldn't be coming this year. You know how my people love your visits."
Sally intertwined her fingers with Jack's. "Thank you, Sandy. We're glad as always to be welcome."
"Of course," Sandy beamed.
The family tossed their bags one by one into the portal, and then jumped in themselves. Edgar loved the sensation the portal created; sort of a squeezing on the inside and a gentle pulling on the outside. He landed with a plop beside his parents and Sandy Claws. They stood up to brush themselves off, when Edgar heard a sound like one more person had fallen behind him. Turning, his gaze was met with another pair of giant black eyes. It seemed that, judging by her overall appearance, a HalloweenTown girl had stowed away on their trip. But she was strange in that there wasn't anything at all scary about her. In fact, Edgar realized with a blush, she was rather pretty. Her wavy brown hair tumbled down her back, almost to her waist, complimenting her pale complexion and dark eyes. Those wide eyes left those of Edgar to gaze at the cheerful, colourful ChristmasTown. Then her dusty pink lips opened, not in awe, but in a terrified scream.
Christine was in fact from HalloweenTown. She had heard about the Skellington vacations to this strange ChristmasTown, and decided that she'd like to see it for herself. So, naturally, she decided that she would just hitch a ride on the back of their large automobile and hop into the portal after them. Unfortunately, she found that this ChristmasTown, as colourful and bright and gay as it was, absolutely and irrationally filled her with terror, and not the good kind.
After her explanation, Jack, being the gentleman he was, offered to take her back home. Christine was embarrassed to be found out so quickly, and stubbornly insisted that she not be taken home and cut their vacation short.
"My dear, as the leader of our town, it's my responsibility to make sure all of the citizens of HalloweenTown are happy and at ease. If this place is truly that awful to you, I'd be more than willing to take you home, vacation or no."
Flustered, Christine insisted yet again, "I've already altered your plans enough. I will not cut your vacation short. I can handle zis town for a measly week, believe me."
"You're entirely sure?"
Christine resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "Oui, monsieur. I 'ave told you over and over. It's just…culture shock, I suppose. I won't ruin your vacation."
"You can at least stay in our cabin with us," Sally offered, patting Christine's hand. "It's not huge, but it's big enough, and since we stay in it every year, it's decorated a bit more Halloween-ish. I think you'd be more comfortable there."
"You're very generous. I would love to stay wiz you folks, if you'll 'ave me. I apologize again…"
Sally giggled. "Oh, goodness. You don't have to keep apologizing. Unfortunately, we don't have a guest room…"
Edgar flushed again. She'd be staying with them? Suddenly, his mother called his name. He faced her, slightly flustered.
"You wouldn't mind giving up your room to our guest, right?" Sally asked with a pointed look. He nodded obediently. Christine shot a small smile of appreciation his way, then turned back to Sally.
Again, there was much polite arguing before Christine finally accepted Edgar's room.
The cabin that the Skellingtons resided in during their stays in ChristmasTown wasn't actually in the town itself. It was really a little ways out of the village. As much as the town could be enjoyable, it seemed as if its inhabitants hardly ever slept. The Skellington cabin was just close enough that the main town could be reached on foot, but far enough away that the noise and light didn't disturb it. In a word, perfect.
Christine was exceptionally pleased with the small amount of time it took to get there. She felt incredibly awkward trudging through the snow with the Skellington family, which was understandable, as she'd pretty much crashed their vacation and knew it. Jack entertained himself by asking her questions.
"So, Christine, why did you stow away?" he asked with a soft smirk.
"Honestly, monsieur, I just wanted to see where ze Pumpkin King and 'is family spent zeir vacations. I sought zat it must be terrifying," she replied with a blush.
Jack laughed lightly. "Well, not really…although you seem to think otherwise…" He paused and put a bony hand on her shoulder. "Really, dear girl, if you would rather go home –"
"Jack," Sally sighed when she saw Christine getting ready to retort. "She's already told you dozens of times that she can handle a week here. Let's just make her feel as at home as possible." Sally sent Jack a sharp glance, to which he grinned sheepishly in return. Edgar chuckled softly at his parents. Christine somehow heard him, and peeked back at him. He was rather interesting to her. She had heard stories about how the King of Terror and Dr. Finkelstein's first creation had given birth to a child that found HalloweenTown scary. In the bad way, that is.
Leaning towards Sally, she whispered to her. "Zat's Edgar isn't it?"
"Yes, it is," Sally whispered back. "Why are you whispering?"
"Well…I…" Christine mumbled to herself, then backpedaled to walk beside Edgar. "So you're ze Edgar I've been 'earing so much about."
Edgar paled a bit, if that were possible. "I suppose I am."
"Zat is to say…er…ze sings I've 'eard aren't bad or anysing. I mean…" She fumbled for words before restarting. "I 'aven't seen you about ze town before."
"I'm sure you could probably guess why that may be," Edgar replied meekly.
"Er…oui. But surely you come outside sometimes."
"Yes, but I stay close to home."
"I see…" Christine trailed off, and the conversation died a horrible death. Luckily, the party had reached the cabin. Stepping inside, they stomped the snow off of their legs and looked around.
The cabin indeed had a touch of Halloween to it. The colour scheme was all in somber shades of black, grey, and green, with hints of yellow here and there. Spindle-legged tables and chairs and low, antique couches were the furniture, along with gigantic bookshelves stuffed to overflowing. Most of the furniture was covered in dust sheets, which Jack and Sally set about removing and hanging outside.
"Edgar," Sally began, throwing a few sheets into a hamper. "Why don't you show our guest to her room?"
"Alright. Christine, it's just down the hall a bit." Edgar led her down the hall, pointing out the toilet on the way, to what was usually his room. Opening the door, he blushed a bit, embarrassed. He'd neglected to clean very well before they had left the previous year. "I apologize for the mess…"
"Ah, non! Zat's fine; you should see my room back 'ome," Christine babbled.
"Still, uh, I'd like to clean a bit before you get settled in."
"Well zen let me 'elp you."
"No, no, I've got it."
"I insist!"
"You really don't have to-"
"The girl can clean if she wants to!" Sally called from her and Jack's room. Edgar and Christine shot each other startled looks, then chuckled nervously, entering the cluttered room.
"Really, Jack," Sally sighed, hanging a few dresses in the closet. "Those two and their manners."
"As if you have room to talk," Jack chuckled as he pulled her to his side. "I seem to remember a certain shy, well-mannered girl from my past…"
"Hush, you," Sally laughed, pushing him lightly away.
Back in Edgar's room, Christine had found something else interesting. As she straightened a stack of books, she picked one up and thumbed through it. She was surprised to find that it actually seemed to be a notebook almost filled with neat, spidery (A/N: Of course.) script. Glancing at Edgar, who conveniently had his back turned to her as he gathered up the spiders that had made a nest on his bureau, Christine slipped the book under the bed sheets behind her. Loudly dusting herself off, she tried to initiate a conversation.
"You 'ave quite a few books 'ere. I take it you enjoy reading, non?"
Edgar shooed the spiders into the ceiling corner and turned to her. "Yes, I do."
An awkward pause. "Read anysing interesting lately?"
He thought for a moment. "I read an interesting short story about a man that gave his son's life to save a train full of people."
"Oh?"
"Yes."
Another awkward pause. Christine sat on the bed, suddenly exhausted. "Would you care to elucidate?" she asked slowly.
"The man was in charge of raising and lowering a bridge as trains came along it. One day, his son came with him to work, and fell into the mechanism that held the gears for the bridge. The man was just getting ready to lower the bridge as he saw his son tumble in. If he activated the gears, his son would be crushed. If he took the time to pull his son out of the mechanism, the train would run off of the track and all of the people on it would surely die. In the end, he activated the bridge, crushing his son, but saving several hundred people that would never know of his sacrifice."
Christine sat in the sober silence. "Zat is so sad."
"Yes, it is. But it's also a bittersweet story of honour and sacrifice."
Yet another pause filled the room. "After zat, 'ow about a 'appy story?"
Edgar gave her an odd look, and leaned against his writing desk. "I suppose."
"It's a fairytale zat my muzzer used to tell me…"
"I've read lots of fairytales. I might have heard it before."
"Would you razzer I not tell you?"
"No, no. I just thought I'd say."
"Well zen. Once upon a time, long ago…" She chuckled. "Cliché, I know. Anyway, zere was a king zat asked 'is two daughters 'ow much they loved 'im. Ze first daughter said zat 'e was ze apple of 'er eye. Ze second daughter said zat she loved 'im as she loved ze salt in 'er food. Zis obviously did not please ze king, so 'e srew 'er out. In order to make a living wiz what little she 'ad, she made 'erself ugly so zat farmwives would 'ire 'er, and soon she became a shepherdess. A few years later, to remember 'erself, she dressed in 'er fine gowns for ze day. Ze prince was out 'unting, and rode by. Ze princess ran away before 'e could find out 'o she was. 'e fell into a sickness of longing, and said zat only ze bread made by zat shepherdess could 'eal him. So ze princess dressed in 'er finery and brought 'im ze bread, and zey fell in love and got married. She invited 'er fazzer to ze wedding. When 'e came, she 'ad 'is meal cooked wizout salt, and 'e finally realized 'is mistake."
Edgar laughed softly. "A fairytale with a punch-line. Surprisingly, I haven't read that one."
"My muzzer probably changed a few sings. It's just a family story, after all. It was quite a bit longer zan yours…"
"Ah, you're fine."
Another silence filled the room, but this time, it wasn't quite as awkward. Edgar broke the silence by clearing his throat.
"So…shall we see what Mom and Dad are up to?"
"If you don't mind, I still need to unpack."
"I'll…uh…leave you to it, then." And with that, Edgar left to find his parents.
Christine watched him disappear down the hall, then shut the door. She returned to the bed and retrieved the notebook from under the bed sheet. Flipping it open, she began to read the words scrawled across the first page.
~Time skip brought to you by Dr. Finkelstein's Premium Dog Biscuits~
Several hours later, Sally's voice rang through the cabin, startling Jack and Edgar from their re-re-re-re-organization of the books in the bookshelves.
"Dinner! There's some for you too, Christine."
Christine reluctantly dragged her eyes from the book in her hands. Closing it around the comforter as a bookmark, she stood and stretched. If the cover page wasn't lying, the book she had been so absorbed in for the past few hours was penned by none other than Edgar. Casting one last glance at the book lying on the bed, she left to join the Skellingtons at dinner.
Dinner at the Skellingtons was rather strange. Since Jack, Sally, and, by proxy, Edgar weren't living, they ate very little. Christine was unsure of herself until she realized that all of the excess had to go somewhere, so why not? As everyone relaxed around the table, happily digesting, Christine turned to Edgar.
"So you write?"
Edgar sputtered a bit, but answered lowly. "Just a bit."
"Ah. 'Just a bit,' you say?" she asked, tilting her head quizzically.
"Yes. You know, to pass the time…" he murmured back, blushing.
Might as well pull out the stops. "I found a book of yours."
Edgar stared at her, dumbfounded. "What book?"
"It was filled wiz writing, so, after seeing zat it wasn't a journal or somesing, I decided to read it," Christine said nonchalantly.
Sally beamed at her son. "You've never told us that you wrote! May we read a bit of your writing?"
Edgar's wide eyes turned to his parents as he put up his hands in defense. "Oh, you wouldn't want to read my writing; they're just boring little strings of nonsense, nothing amazing, really, just things that have popped into my head, and none of it fits cohesively or anything, I mean…" Realizing how he was rambling, Edgar let his words trail off, and tried to smile reassuringly to Jack and Sally.
"Edgar, if you didn't want us to read it, you only had to say so," Jack chortled.
"No, Dad, really it's not…" He trailed off again.
"Ah…it's really nuzzing, Mr. Skellington," Christine chipped in, sensing Edgar's reluctance and trying to help. "I just found zat book, and sought I'd ask." Edgar glanced at her thankfully. The dining room grew silent at that, and Christine couldn't help but notice how many uncomfortable pauses she'd caused in just one short evening.
After dinner, Christine helped clear the table, and would have helped clean the dishes had Sally insisted that she was their guest, and "guests don't do dishes." Instead, she went back to Edgar's room, seeing as how Jack was already in his nightclothes and reading in the sitting room. Edgar, it seemed, had disappeared as soon as the table had been cleared. Christine opened the door to his room to find him standing by the bed, flipping through the same notebook she had been reading earlier that afternoon. He seemed unaware of her entrance, so she scuffed lightly against the doorjamb to avoid startling him.
"Oh! Ah…hello."
"Good evening." Yet another pause. Ridiculous.
"I was just…ah…" Edgar rubbed the back of his head. "I wanted to thank you for…well, what you did at dinner."
"Well…you're welcome, of course, but why didn't you want your parents to see your writing?" Christine questioned slowly.
"They're my parents, I suppose. I don't know…" He fiddled with the book in his hands. "My stories are nothing special anyway."
Christine took a few steps forward, shocked, making Edgar back up against the bed. "What do you mean, 'nuzzing special'? Zey are very well written, extraordinary considering 'ow young you are!"
Edgar blushed a rosy scarlet. "R-really? Do you thing they're that good?"
"Oui, oui, I do!" Christine nodded emphatically, taking a few more steps forward.
"W-well, I'm honoured to hear that," Edgar stammered, flustered at her flattery and close proximity. "A writer always enjoys positive f-feedback."
"Well, since I gave you positive feedback, zere's somesing you can give me in return," Christine said cheerily.
"W-what would that be, miss?" Edgar gulped. There was less than a two-foot gap between the two of them.
"This," she snapped, slipping the book from his shaking hands. "I want to finish reading it." Christine danced out of the room, skimming the pages to find where she had left off last.
Edgar was left in the room, slightly stunned. "W-wait!" he called, coming to. "That's not quite fair!" He followed her down the hall and into the living room. "Please, just give it back!" Poor Edgar's parents, Sally having joined Jack on the loveseat, watched as their son followed Christine, who was twisting and dodging to keep her hold on a little book, generally enjoying herself in her game of keep-away with a frustrated, ranting Edgar.