Written for Pascale as a part of Secret Santa on LF. It´s based on Charles Dickens´ novel A Christmas Carol, and therefore I need to mention that (duh!) I do not own the extracts from the original I used. And, of course, the standard one: I do not own the characters or storylines of Lost.
p.s. I wanted to post this around Christmas, but I forgot the password for this site and had problems with my e-mail server, so I wasn´t able to do it before now. Hope you´ll like it anyways.
A Christmas Carol
~ Prologue ~
He was sitting on the floor of his living room; his back leaned against the cold wall; as Christmas Carol was being played on a large TV screen. But he wasn´t watching it. His eyes were sad and tired, his gaze dull and foggy, staring at the bottle standing a couple of meters in front and trying to decide whether to take it or not. He could hear children playing outside and Christmas carols being sang on the street; but his mind wasn't really paying attention to them; trapped inside his own little hell of will or won´t. On one hand, it would be so easy to just reach for it and drown himself in it, to let the bitter taste of alcohol wash away all the memories, all the pain and all the heartache of being along on Christmas Eve. On the other, he was tired of all of that: tired of drink, tired of pills, tired of life like this; of life without her. He rubbed his forehead with his hand, the headache of five-days self-detoxication so strong he thought his brain would burst. He leaned his head against the wall and closed his eyes.
If only he could fall asleep…
*****
~ Chapter One~
His eyes were closed, his mind trapped somewhere between dream and reality; but he had a strange feeling that he was not alone in the room. With a great effort, he opened his eyes and was greeted with a face he thought he would see never again.
Startled, he jumped on his feet, stumbling and using the wall as a support, as he straightened up, his head still pounding, making him hard to organize his thoughts.
˝Locke! What…what are you doing here?! You´re…you´re d-dead. ˝
The man´s lips stretched into a grin; the calm one, that would always manage to get on Jack´s nerves back when they were on the island.
˝I´m gonna say this only once, Jack, so you better listen carefully. ˝he said slowly, his voice bordering on mysterious, as always. ˝When the clock strikes one o´clock, you´ll be visited by three ghosts: the first of Christmas Past, the second of Christmas Present and the third of Christmas Future. ˝
Jack opened his mouth to speak, but Locke shut him. ˝Watch carefully what they have to show you and then decide if this really is the path you want to go. ˝
And with that, he disappeared.
Jack looked up at the clock in his living room. 12:59am. Anxiously, he waited the bigger hand reach 12, and then, precisely at the moment when the clock hands united, a bright light suddenly illuminated the room and he was face to face with the strangest being he had ever seen.
*****
~ Chapter Two ~
´It was a strange figure—like a child: yet not so like a child as like an old man, viewed through some supernatural medium, which gave him the appearance of having receded from the view, and being diminished to a child's proportions. Its hair, which hung about its neck and down its back, was white as if with age; and yet the face had not a wrinkle in it, and the tenderest bloom was on the skin. It wore a tunic of the purest white; and round its waist was bound a lustrous belt, the sheen of which was beautiful. It held a branch of fresh green holly in its hand; and, in singular contradiction of that wintry emblem, had its dress trimmed with summer flowers. But the strangest thing about it was, that from the crown of its head there sprung a bright clear jet of light, by which all this was visible; and which was doubtless the occasion of its using, in its duller moments, a great extinguisher for a cap, which it now held under its arm. ´
Jack opened his mouth to say something, but the figure interrupted him, reaching out his hand towards him and mouthing quietly: Take my hand and follow me.
As in trance, he did so; and in the next moment he was twirling through the air, with the strangest feeling of his body being lifted from the floor and taken out of the security of the room…
*****
They landed inside the big, carefully taken care of, garden. There was something familiar about his features and as he turned to look around, Jack realized what it was: they were standing in front of the house he had grown up in. The Ghost pointed his hand at something inside; and Jack took a couple of steps forward, to have a better look. He stood by the fence, staring at the little boy sitting on the window frame inside of the house and looking out of the window. The boy lifted his hand and put it on the glass, his finger tracing only him known figures on it surface; stopping when he heard the sound of the phone ringing. He listened in silence as his mother spoke with someone on the phone; then closed his eyes as he heard her putting it down. He counted to 5 inside of himself; then slowly turned around, looking up at his mother.
˝He´s not coming, is he? ˝
The woman looked at him sympathetically. ˝He can´t, Jack. There´s been an accident and he has to…˝
˝He never has time for me! ˝the boy interrupted her. ˝He loves the hospital more than me! ˝he said, turning her his back as he returned to staring out of the window.
˝Jack Christian Shephard, that´s not true and you know it! ˝Margo said, a little more strict than she intended to. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath; then continued, putting her hand son Jack´s shoulders and forcing him to turn around and look at her. ˝ Your dad loves you very much and he wants nothing more than to spend Christmas with you. But he´s also a doctor. Little kids got hurt and only he can fix them. Right now, they need him more than you do, okay? Now, let´s see if there are some Christmas movies to watch, okay? ˝
She took his hand and the boy followed. ˝Fine! But it´s still not fair. ˝Jack heard him mumbling; and then everything went dark again and in the next moment he was on the balcony of the same boy´s bedroom, looking into the room.
He watched the door open and a dark figure of a tall man enter the room and slowly approach the bed, place himself down on its end and gently shake the sleeping boy.
˝Hey, buddy. ˝Christian Shephard said quietly as the boy´s eyes fluttered open. ˝I´m sorry I couldn't make it today. ˝he apologized, and seemed like he was sincerely sorry. Little Jack shrugged his shoulders, not knowing what to say.
˝Look, I brought you this. ˝Christian tried, offering him something, and Jack took the stethoscope out of his hands. ˝It´s a real one. You can hear people´s hearts with it. ˝
˝Cool. ˝the boy said in awe, turning the stethoscope in his hands.
Christian smiled. ˝hey…want me to read you a bedtime story? ˝he asked, and Jack nodded feverishly. ˝Move aside. ˝he said; and Jack eagerly agreed, freeing him some space. Christian bend down and took of his shoes, then clamed on the bed, throwing one hand across Jack´s shoulder and taking the book in the other. Jack snuggled in comfortably, the happiest he had been that day; as his dad put on his glasses and prepared himself to read.
˝You ready? Okay, here we go…
It was the night before Christmas…˝
*****
~ Chapter Three ~
The scene changed abruptly and the bright Ghost was gone; now replaced with a tall, brown haired man sitting on the chair. ´He was clothed in one simple green robe, or mantle, bordered with white fur. This garment hung so loosely on the figure, that its capacious breast was bare, as if disdaining to be warded or concealed by any artifice. Its feet, observable beneath the ample folds of the garment, were also bare; and on its head it wore no other covering than a holly wreath, set here and there with shining icicles. Its dark brown curls were long and free; free as its genial face, its sparkling eye, its open hand, its cheery voice, its unconstrained demeanor, and its joyful air. Girded round its middle was an antique scabbard; but no sword was in it, and the ancient sheath was eaten up with rust.´
Before Jack had a chance to say anything; the Ghost took him for his right hand and launched them both through the window and into the starry night. Jack was now flying over the lightened city, the winter breeze cooling off his cheeks and having a soothing effect on his tired body. He watched the roofs pass by, the houses twinkling in light of Christmas lamps, the scene definitely one of the most beautiful ones he had ever witnessed to.
Suddenly, the houses started to get bigger and bigger; and he realized he was starting to lose height, flying in the direction of one house in particular. He didn´t need to think twice whose house it was – he would recognize it even with his eyes closed. He saw the lights lit up inside the room in the middle of the upper floor; and in the next moment he was standing in front of its window, looking inside…
A young boy with blonde hair was lying in his bed, his tiny little body covered up till chin with a bright, cheerful blanket. His chubby little arms were lying free, uncovered; while his bright blue eyes were focused on a woman sitting in a chair next to him, holding a closed, familiar book.
˝Okay, bud, time´s up. It´s time for you to go to sleep. ˝he heard her say, and smiled as the boy´s lips made the saddest fake pout he had ever seen – one that tricked him so many times into agreeing to read another couple of pages, for he could not refuse him anything – not when he would be looking at him like that.
He saw her lips stretch into smile; then heard her expertly reminding the boy that it was Christmas Eve and that the soonest he went to sleep the soonest Santa would be there with presents. He shook his head and smiled at her cleverness as he saw the boy immediately calming down, allowing her to tuck him in. She was really good at the whole motherhood thing.
˝Sweet dreams, sweetie. ˝Kate whispered, leaning in to kiss him on the cheek.
She pulled away and started to get up, when she suddenly felt a small hand covering hers, stopping her.
˝Mummy, can I ask you something?
˝Of course. ˝she said, trying to sound braver than she felt, ´cause she had a feeling what his question would be.
˝Is Jack coming home tomowwow? ˝
She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to ignore the lump forming in her throat. ˝No, baby, he´s not. ˝she replied quietly, covering his hand with hers.
She could see the tears forming in his blue eyes and in her mind cursed Jack again for the pain he was inflict to that little innocent boy.
˝Does he not love us anymore? ˝he asked sadly, and she had to close her eyes; one tear still managing to find its way out and down her cheek.
˝No, baby, he still loves us. Very much. ˝she managed to choke out.
˝Then why he´s not coming back? ˝the boy asked sadly; and she looked up in surrender. How to explain to a 3,5 year old that Jack´s priorities now were booze and pills instead of the two of them?
She took a deep breath, then tried:
˝Jack…Jack´s not feeling very well lately, buddy. He´s…he´s sick. ˝she said, deciding the words drunk and addict weren´t exactly the most appropriate for the ears of a 3-year old.
˝Then shouldn´t we be with him and take care of him and give him soup and that yucky green thing you always say will make me feel better? ˝he asked her, making it hard for her not to break down. She reached out and placed her hand on his cheek, her fingers softly caressing him as she whispered, sadly: ˝I wish it was that easy, baby. I wish it was. ˝
˝Mummy? ˝
˝Yeah? ˝
˝Do you think Jack will be okay…on Cwistmas…if he´s all alone and sick? ˝he asked, breaking her heart a bit more with each question asked.
She closed her eyes and sucked in air, trying to stay strong and stop the tears from spilling; then opened them again. ˝You know what? We´re gonna ask Santa to stop by and check on Jack after he leaves our place, okay? ˝
The boy nodded feverishly and she knew that, at least for that night, the topic was closed.
˝Now go to sleep, baby. ˝she said, and he obediently closed his eyes.
˝´night, Mummy. ˝
She leaned in and kissed his forehead; then reached behind to turn off the bed lamp. Reached the door, she turned around, taking one last look at the sweet, innocent boy lying there; then quickly left the bedroom and rushed into her own, closing the door behind and then sliding down the wall, finally breaking down as large tears started to fall down her face. Her hand shaking, she reached out for the night stand and took the framed photo with the two of them smiling at the camera, his arms around her waist and his eyes shining with happiness as they laughed at something he had said. She looked at it long time and then, as the clock ticked midnight, pressed it against her lips and silently whispered: ˝Merry Christmas, Jack. ˝
*****
~ Chapter Four ~
The Ghost of Christmas present disappeared too and Jack felt something else approaching him and quickly turned in that direction. ´It was shrouded in a deep black garment, which concealed its head, its face, its form, and left nothing of it visible save one outstretched hand. But for this it would have been difficult to detach its figure from the night, and separate it from the darkness by which it was surrounded. He felt that it was tall and stately when it came beside him, and that its mysterious presence filled him with a solemn dread. He knew no more, for the Spirit neither spoke nor moved. ´
He felt the strong rush of air and the scene changed again, and this time he was faced with a zoom up of her face. Her eyes were puffy, swollen as new tears kept coming out of them and roll across her cheeks; the bags under her eyes sickenly reddish and she had the aspect of who hadn´t slept in days. Instinctively feeling the need to pull her into his arms and comfort her from whatever was making her suffer that much; he reached out for her, but was met with just air.
She can´t see you. None of them can. , the Ghost whispered in his ear; and Jack pulled back his hand, wishing he could know the cause of her distress. As if hearing his thoughts, the scene zoomed out, and he could now see that she was sitting in a row of chairs, dressed in an outfit he saw her wear just twice: first, at his father´s funeral, and later, when they went to be there for Sayid as he said goodbye to Nadia. Having a strange feeling in his stomach, Jack watched her get up and walk slowly across the aisle, all the eyes in the church directed at her. He could see Sayid sitting next to Sun, the man´s gaze empty and lifeless; Penny and Desmond, holding hands; Hurley with a box of Kleenex on his lap, not even trying to hide his tears… Weird, he thought. He couldn't remember many occasions in which Hurley was in a bad mood. His gaze returned to Kate again. He could see her slim figure standing at the altar, rising up above the open coffin. His legs were feeling strangely heavy as he slowly approached her from behind. With a sick feeling in his stomach, he leaned in across her shoulder to see the person lying in it; the person he had, deep inside, already known was lying in it, and yet, he couldn´t stop his legs from shaking as his eyes fell on his own face, the beard being the only difference. Shocked, he took a step back, almost tripping over the tiny steps that led to the altar. He watched her reach out her hand to touch his cheek, her fingers delicately caressing his, once warm – now cold, skin. He saw two drops falling on his cheek – he looked up and was greeted with her face that was almost unrecognizable, scrunched up in pain. ˝Why did you do this to yourself, Jack? ˝she managed to choke up, before she broke down, leaning her face against his chest as her whole body started to shake from sobs. He looked away, not able to stand anymore to watch her in such pain, knowing he was a cause of it, knowing the path he had chosen a few months ago would eventually bring him an end like that; and, more importantly, would bring her pain like that.
˝Kate, it´s time. ˝he heard another voice and looked up again, seeing Sayid leaning above Kate´s, his hand on her shoulder. She nodded slowly, getting up and wiping the tears away – he had always admired the courage she had in herself. He saw her bending down again; and felt his own tears soaking his face as he watched her place her lips on his one last time. She closed her eyes, trying to imagine the warmth that was once there, and whispered, quietly: ˝Goodbye, Jack. I love you. ˝
I love you too., he mouthed; watching her get up and leave the altar, leaning on Sayid´s arm; her face enlarging more and more, until all could see were her swollen eyes and her mouth saying: Why did you do this to yourself, Jack? Why did you do this to yourself, Jack? Why did you…
*****
~ Chapter Five ~
Why did I do this to myself? Why did I do this… To myself…to myself… he continued to mumble; then suddenly woke up, his eyes widening in terror. He brought his hand to his forehead and realized he was soaking wet, the sweat drenching his shirt. His breathing was rapid, his heart pumping like crazy. He closed his eyes, trying to shake away the terrible memories; but realized almost instantly it was a mistake; for all he saw was her face grimaced in pain. He opened them immediately, looking around and trying to find something to hold his attention. His gaze fell on the bottle laying in front, his eyes narrowing at the sight of it. In that moment, there was nothing in the world he despised more. He got up - his legs still a little shaky – and bent down, picking the bottle up and taking it into the kitchen. Reached the sink, he straightened up; opened it and slowly poured out its content, watching it disappear and determined to use it never again...
*****
~ Chapter Six ~
˝Look, Mummy, Choo-choo can fly! ˝
Kate was sitting on the ground, watching Aaron make imaginary circles in the air with the hand in which he was holding a bright new, shiny red train. She smiled sadly, wishing Jack was there to share the magic of Christmas morning with them.
No!, she reminded herself mentally. Today is Christmas and I won´t be sad. I owe it to Aaron.
The boy made another swooshing sound and giggled, his laughter echoing across the room; and Kate felt herself smiling, this time not of sadness. She leaned forwarded and pulled him in for a hug; planting a wet smooch on his cheek and making him scrunch his face in disgust, followed by a inevitable ˝Mummy! That´s gross! ˝that made her laugh even more.
She went in for another one when the sound of the doorbell interrupted her plan. She looked at the clock in the living room. 7am. Who could be at this time of the day?, she wondered. It was too early for Veronica to come, and she wasn´t expecting anyone else, for all she could remember.
˝You stay here and play with your Choo-choo, Mummy´s going to open the door. ˝she said to Aaron and got up, throwing one last glance at the smiling boy before disappearing behind the doorway.
She crossed the hallway, stopping herself in front of the mirror to fix a couple of stranded curls before opening the door, her mouth opening slightly in shock when she saw who it was at the door.
*****
~ Chapter Seven ~
He was freshly shaved and visibly sober, wearing a clean pair of jeans and a dark green sweater she bought him his last Christmas.
˝J-Jack…what…what are you doing here? ˝she finally managed, breaking the silence that hung upon them for a couple of moments.
He was standing in front of her, hands in pockets, swinging slightly on his heels, obviously as nervous as she was. He licked his bottom lip, not really knowing how to start; then, taking a deep breath, decided to let it out as quickly as possible.
˝I… I came back. ˝He saw her expression change and her eyebrows arch; and quickly added: ˝If you still want me, that is. ˝
For a moment, they stood in silence, looking at each other and neither saying anything. He pulled out his hand from the pocket, running his fingers through his hair nervously before continuing.
˝Listen… I…leaving you was the biggest mistake I´ve ever done. And I've done my share of them. I know you don´t trust me anymore, and I know I deserved it. But I´m clean now, Kate. And after what I experienced last night, I don´t wanna drink ever again. ˝he paused; a shiver running through his spine as he remembered his dream, if it was a dream at all. ˝I´ll do whatever it takes, I´ll sign up for AA meetings, if you want; just… just please let me spend Christmas with you two. ˝he pleaded.
˝Jack, I… ˝she started, closing her eyes for a moment; then opening them again. She missed him so much and she didn´t have a heart to turn him down, but she had to think of Aaron first, and herself; ´cause she didn´t know if either of them could handle him abandoning them again.
As if he could read her mind, Jack took a step forward. ˝Remember what I told you when we crashed on the island? About second chances? ˝he asked quietly and she nodded, his deep chocolate eyes digging into hers and making it impossible to focus on anything else. He nodded with her and then continued: ˝Well, I´m asking you mine now; Kate. ˝he said; then added quickly, before she could protest. ˝I know that I screwed up, big time, and I´m sorry for that. More than you can imagine. But if you give it to me, if you accept me back, I promise you I´ll spend every day of the rest of my life proving you that you have done the right thing. ˝
She looked at him, trying to find a trace of a lie in his eyes, but she didn´t see any; his eyes as honest and sincere as they always were when he was the old Jack, her Jack. She kept his gaze for a long time, common sense and months of pain fighting against her heart, knowing they were leading a lost battle, ´cause, in her heart, she had already made the decision as soon as she saw him standing in front of her, clean and sober.
Finally, she closed her eyes; took a deep breath; opened them again and said quietly. ˝Okay. ˝
He smiled; the first honest smile he had had in months; and he felt as if a huge burden had been lifted from his heart. ˝Okay. ˝he repeated, grinning; then took another step forward – his presence making her close her eyes – and planted a gentle kiss on her forehead. He stayed like that for a moment, his forehead leaned against hers; a soft ˝Thank you. ˝escaping his lips; before she pulled away, looked up at him; then silently took his hand in hers – their fingers intertwining – and pulled him in, closing the door behind.
And as the sun slowly rose above the roofs of Panorama Crest, one young family was enjoying their Christmas morning, reunited at last…
*****
The End
Please tell me what you think. :p And, Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to all!