000 Disclaimer, I own nothing except a Malcolm Reed action figure which is sacred! 000 Well, I got in on Christmas fanfic and wrote this. Just a little one shot, all my other stories are going to be sorted out after Christmas I promise!
So Merry Christmas and all the good things, have a guddun people! 000
It's the only time of the year I ever feel truly homesick. Maybe because it's the only time of the year I ever feel like I belong at home.
Christmas to me was always the best time of the whole year. It was the only time I ever knew that my father loved me.
That sounds strange doesn't it? An odd thing to say I suppose thinking about it. Other people just like Christmas for the presents or don't even celebrate Christmas at all-not me. I never cared what I got for Christmas, I knew what I'd get anyway, a couple of models, a selection box and the usual oddly coloured knitted 'jumper' although it was hard to tell what it was.
The thing I loved about Christmas was the Christmas Truce.
My father was fond of trying to make me into his image and trying to control every aspect of my life for most of the year but on Christmas he always relented. He would always call a Christmas Truce.
He would never call it out loud but I'd wake up on Christmas morning rummage through my stocking and find what I was looking for-a note from Dad (and yes at Christmas I allowed myself the luxury of calling him dad) it would read:
'Christmas Truce Son'
Nothing more, nothing less, but it was something I treasured for the day and felt for the only time in that year that my parents truly wanted me.
I suppose it could be conceived as an odd tradition, after all it seems almost pathetic really, but it was all I knew and I was apt to cling to any thread or small note that would suggest that perhaps I wasn't the complete disappointment I always feared I was.
I remember how Maddie would always dive into my room, stocking in hand mouth smeared with chocolate, demanding I go with her to rouse our parents. We'd go down to my parent's room and I'd knock on the door. Invariably there would be a groan from within and whispered conversation before the door was opened.
"Come on then," mum would say smiling.
Dad would smile down at me-a rare show of emotion, well a cheerful emotion at any rate-and we'd go into the living room.
After presents my insane Grandma Reed would come round. She was convinced that I was dad and that dad was Grandpa (he's been dead since before I was born) and she was fond of patting Maddie's head and telling her she'd make a fine husband one day. Harmless enough.
The best part of the whole day was after Christmas dinner when Dad and I would build a model together and he'd tell me the story of the Christmas Truce which happened during the war. Every year without fail I'd then ask him why the Christmas Truce was so important; he'd smile and tell me to work it out for myself.
It was the one perfect day of the year and I could pretend we were a proper perfect family and delude myself into thinking I was happy.
And I was happy, after all ignorance is bliss they say.
Still, I can't help but miss home right now, I can tell exactly what is happening at this very moment at home and I know it was only a show and that it was just so my father could play happy families but I miss it.
I miss our Christmas Truce.
Here on the Enterprise, Trip is completely bladdered and has been unconscious for the last hour, Archer isn't far behind him and Hoshi and Travis are tucked away in a corner talking animatedly. Phlox is watching with interest and T'Pol is talking to some of the crew.
I'm stood at the window watching them all and mentally debating whether or not to call my parents-I have permission, I asked earlier when Archer wasn't as drunk.
Well, I'm going to call them and then get completely trashed.
Sounds like a plan.
In my quarters I'm waiting for them to answer, eventually my fathers face appears and he smiles.
"Christmas Truce son?"
"Christmas Truce dad."
We talk for a while and then finally I ask the question I ask every year.
"Why is the Christmas Truce so important Dad?"
And for the first time ever he answers my question.
"Everyone deserves one day of peace son."
"Why do we have the Christmas Truce?"
"It's a Reed tradition, your Grandfather and I had one every year."
"Were you a disappoint to him like I am to you then?" This question comes out harsher than I intended and I know I've broken the unspoken rule of the Reed Christmas Truce but for the first time ever I don't care.
"No Reed has ever been a disappointment," he replies eyes narrowing slightly. "But some Reed's are more exasperating than others."
I have something to say but I suddenly can't say anything. Did my father, a tall emotionless robot, just make a humorous comment? More to the point was it something that was in favour of me?
Jesus, I'm beginning to think there was more than just alcohol in that drink I had.
The system starts beeping to let me know my time's almost up.
"Dad, I have to go," I say, this is quite an achievement-for a second I wasn't even sure I had vocal chords left.
He nods in understanding.
"Stay safe son," he says. "I'll tell your mother you called."
He pauses before adding.
"Next time you join a Starship and go off gallivanting round Space at least have the decency to tell us first!"
"Will do, Merry Christmas Dad."
"Merry Christmas Son."
The conversation ends and I'm staring in complete shock at the screen, could that possibly have qualified as a sentimental conversation?
Dazedly I rejoin the party; nothing has changed except presents are being handed out. I'm still out of it when something is shoved into my hands.
"Merry Christmas Lieutenant."
Maybe there was something to that Christmas Truce after all.
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