Title: The First Christmas without Him

Author: BrynnH

Warnings: Death Story

The First Christmas without Him

I wish I could crawl in a well hidden hole and wait out the holidays. Everywhere I look reminds me of him. A live Christmas tree? "No way, Chief. Do you know how many needles that thing would shed?" Wrapped Christmas presents? "You take way too much time wrapping those things, Sandburg." Unwrapped Christmas gifts? "Why should I wrap the thing, Blair? You're just going to rip the paper off in 2 seconds flat anyway."

I refuse to decorate the loft this year. Simon and the guys came over a couple of weeks ago and were basically going to decorate rather I wanted them to, or not… "You need to stop brooding and get on with life, Sandburg. He was our friend too. You need to move on." I threw them all out of my newly inherited loft, and haven't talked to them since. I won't answer their calls or let them in when they come to the door. I hope they will eventually stop trying…at least until after the holidays.

They don't understand. I can't decorate! Everything just reminds me that he won't be here this year. That he won't be here ever again. The artificial tree he bought just to get me to shut up about how important it was for the loft to be decorated, the figurine of a wolf in a Santa's hat he bought me the Christmas after the whole fountain thing, even the menorah he bought because "if I have to celebrate Christmas, by God you are going to celebrate Hanukkah."

As it is, I don't know what to do with the present I had already bought and wrapped for him. I had found the perfect thing in one of those "Christmas all year long" stores. It's been wrapped and hiding under my bed since July. I go in and snatch the present from its resting place, then just hold it and look at it. Suddenly, a thought comes to me and I grab my jacket as I rush out the door.

I have never been to Jim's grave. I have always refused when any of the guys offered to come with me. I stand here and just look at the headstone for the longest time. Some of the guys must have brought all the festive items spread all over the grave. Man, Jim would hate this. A wreath resting against the stone, three pots of poinsettias, and a small blow up snow globe with a Santa in it, of all things. For the first time since it happened, I actually manage a small smile. "Man Jim, even I didn't make you decorate this much."

I sink to the ground, holding his present, and I finally release the tears I've been refusing to shed for the last two months. After a while, the tears are all gone, and I start to unwrap Jim's gift. "I found this in a little store several months back," I start to tell the headstone. "I just had to get it man. Just wait 'til you see it." I unwrap it carefully, like Jim himself would. I loosen the tape so as not to rip the paper, slowly remove it, and then fold the liberated paper neatly, as though anyone actually reuses it. I then opened the box, and gently removed the little figurine. It fit perfectly on top of the headstone, like it was made to go there.

"Aw Jim. I miss you so much, man."

When I finally feel it was time to leave, I take one last look at all the Christmas decorations strewn around Jim's new home. I touch the new addition one more time, stroking the little panther and settling his tiny felt Santa's hat snuggly around his ears. "I'll see you around, Jim."

End