The Spirit of Christmas
Ice and snow had overtaken the streets of Boston. The wind made the chill almost unbearable, but people scurried along the streets, in and out shops, making last-minute preparations for Christmas. Among these was a tall man wearing a black military surplus pea coat and a simple black toboggan. Pretty nondescript, except if you looked into his eyes. His eyes contained two worlds of hurt.
A million thoughts ran through Peter Bishop's head. He had been a normally focused man, but after the events of the past few weeks, his thoughts were never resting. He could not sleep without the aid of the bottle; a little bit of his good friend Jack always did wonders. He was ashamed of using this crutch to soothe his emotional turmoil. He kept the booze in his room away from the prying eyes and nose of his fussy father, Walter.
Walter.
Father.
Two words that he never thought he'd say together in a positive tone. Yet, here he was, preparing to bring home a few goods from the market that his father had requested. Walter was bent on giving the Bishop household some holiday cheer, after so much sadness that had been endured that year.
Peter was not in the mood to be braving the cold. Santa would certainly have him marked as very naughty this year. Hell, he didn't even deserve a lump of coal to warm his iced-over heart. Even in his pain, Peter made time this year to select some toys for the FBI's Christmas children's charity. At least he could bring some happiness to someone, somewhere. And children deserve it most of all.
Even worse, the Christmas crowds were getting to him. Peter was never one to be afraid of mingling into a large group of people. He had built himself a life around just blending in, manipulating and using people to get what he wanted...
...much like her. Peter shook his head and tried desperately to remove thoughts of the other Olivia Dunham out of his head. She had played him, oh so well. Like a well-tuned and high strung violin. Leaving him to play the worlds' smallest little violin and wallow in his shame and self-pity.
He stopped at a local coffee shop, The Java Joint, and ordered a peppermint latte. The barrista asked him if he was OK, and he shrugged her off saying half-truthfully that he was worn out from shopping.
Good old coffee. Probably the only happiness he'd have for the rest of the year. Drowning his sorrow in its creamy, bittersweet, minty goodness. He inhaled the brew before taking a long draw. He rolled his eyes back in his head as he savored the complex flavors. An amusing thought occurred to him; he would have left his home universe eventually because his veins flowed with coffee. But he could not even afford himself that humorous thought because he came back to be with her. Olivia Dunham. Now she was gone and wanted nothing to do with him.
"..and I don't want to be with you."
All because he was so painfully in love with the woman that he did anything to be with her and make her happy. Except the she he was with, was all a lie. And he knew it, but he shrugged it off. He was ashamed that in a way, he let his hormones cloud his mind. Sometimes it would just be easier to become a monk, he mused. Women and their vagendas... If only his father's description was actually a funny play on words...
Olivia had gone to see Rachel and Ella for the holidays. The only people"the other" had not taken.
Peter had made her a gift of photos he had taken with his cell phone, and some of those that Walter and Astrid had taken. He also wrote her a letter, explaining himself thoroughly. He pleaded that all he wanted for Christmas was forgiveness. He told her about the time that he knew he loved her for certain. She was almost lost to him forever. He didn't want her to have something devastating be the reason she forgave him; it might be too late.
He spilled to her that like it or not, a war was on the horizon. That is was possible that no one would survive. He didn't want them to live with regrets of what might have been. Life was too short to give in to the drama caused by the string-pulling of others that seek to destroy them. He ended the letter with,"Liv, we are the two universes. However, if they separate us, then they have won."
Peter received no response from Olivia, whether verbally or in writing. He had personally left the gift in her office 2 weeks ago. It was no longer there and she did not return it, or trash it as far as he knew.
The delicious respite is over far too quickly. Peter discards the coffee cup and leaves the barrista a nice tip muttering, "Merry Christmas." She smiles at him and wishes him the same.
He comes to the door of the Bishop home and notices that Astrid's car was there. Astrid was like a part of the Bishop family, and Walter was intent on having her with them to celebrate. Astrid agreed to visit on Christmas Eve as her own family were having a get-together on Christmas Day. Peter smiled a genuine smile because she had become like a little sister to him. She had talked with him about how Olivia had been concerned, giving him some perspective.
He had to explain things too soon and had no time to process his own thoughts and prepare to give them to Olivia. He faltered and all the words came out terribly wrong. He watched in horror as she went from a giddy, in-love woman to a sad and broken shell. He shattered her dream completely. The pieces were everywhere, but Peter convinced himself to pick them all up. He'd put it together, no matter how long it took to do so.
Walter was in the kitchen with Astrid as Peter arrived. Sweet and buttery smells entered the air mingled with the salty and smoky aroma of a ham baking in the oven.
Peter loved ham. To him, Christmas was about ham. It was one of the rare times that there was meat in the Bishop household due to his mother's vegetarian diet. Walter had insisted on having one for a proper Christmas for his son. Peter smiled because he could remember all of the effort Walter made for his only son. He even went out of his way one Christmas to make sure that Peter received each and every GI Joe on his wish list, even though some figures were near impossible to locate. His dad came through and seemed larger than life...
"Son, Astrid was just helping me beat my pudding, would you like a taste?"
Inappropriate innuendo entered Peter's mind, but he politely declined. "No, Walter. I am a bit tired. I'm going to go up to my room and nap for just a little bit."
Walter looks at Peter and shakes his head. "When was the last time that you ate, Peter?" Peter tells him he had a large latte with enough calories to be considered a meal. The elder Bishop chided his son saying that coffee does not rejuvenate the body, and Peter had to be careful about taking care of himself.
Peter sighs and agrees to try a piece of Astrid's fruitcake. Heck, he didn't even like fruitcake. He took one bite of his slice and found it to be absolutely delicious. Astrid smiles because she was able to make Peter happy. She offers him a glass of Walter's sugar cookie eggnog, made of fresh cream from Gene the cow. Peter tosses in some rum... a lot of it.
Feeling melancholy, Peter goes up to his room and sets out to wrap the gifts that he purchased. He turns on the radio and gets lost in the rock melodies.
In this life I'm me, Love-Hate-Sex-Pain
Just sitting here alone
By the way I tried to say I'd be there
For you
Walk the silent emptiness
That leads me by my hands
And throw away
What I don't understand, as a man
It's complicating me sometimes
This love-Hate-Sex-Pain
it's underestimated lies
It wasn't long before Walter was knocking at his door.
"Son, it's Christmas? Shouldn't you play some more festive music?"
"Well Walter, what about the new Corey Taylor Christmas song?" Peter quips with a hint of a grin.
"Oh that would be delightful, Peter. What's it called?"
"Peter looks right at his father and replies, "Fuck Christmas."
For once, Peter has shocked Walter. "Now Peter, your mother would be ashamed of you for saying that."
Peter shrugs his shoulders and simply says, "Dad, I'm not a little boy anymore. I'll be down in an hour or so. I need my own time."
Walter tells Peter OK and shuffles downstairs. Peter could hear Bing Crosby crooning "White Christmas" and Astrid laughing at Walter. He finishes wrapping the gifts, then lies down on his bed and sighed.
He is about to drift off into sleep, blaming the eggnog. Then his phone rings. He takes a sharp breath because the name comes up Olivia Dunham. Olivia calls to wish he and Walter a Merry Christmas. It's awkward. Then she uses the excuse of Ella wanting to talk to him to keep him on the line longer. Ella is excited about the impending visit of Santa. She tells "Uncle" Peter thank you for the Little pet shop play set that he sent as a gift for her, and she tells him that she misses him a whole lot.
Then the little girl states innocently as only a child can,"Uncle Peter, I just want Santa to make it so that you and Aunt Liv make up for Christmas."
Peter is surprised at what this small child had said to him. Olivia quickly tells Ella to tell Peter bye, and he tells her he'll try his best to meet her wish. Olivia comes back on the line and says, "I'm sorry, I told Rachel that we had a terrible fight. She wanted details and I couldn't describe anything without it sounding like you cheated on me, which you did not. I just said that we weren't sure it was a good idea to see other romantically. Then Rachel launched into a million reason why we should.."
Olivia starts to close the conversation, making no mention of his gift. Peter tells her to have a merry Xmas, and to tell Rachel, too. He sounds like the good ol Peter of 2-years ago trying to con her. She knew deep down that he wasn't merry, but that he was trying his best. She imagined Walter making all the holiday preparations and chuckled inside at him fussing over Peter. Her heart beat faster, and she tried to shake happy images of Peter out of her head. But she had one more thing to say.
She stops him from hanging up. "Peter, I.. have the gift that you left for me in my office." There was a long pause, each unsure of how to proceed with the conversation.
Peter: If it was unwarranted, I can..."
Olivia: "No Peter, it was just what I needed. A stark but beautiful reminder of why I went through all the Hell I did. Why I was a coward and did not tell you the truth about seeing you glimmer when I knew. Why I crossed the fabric of reality to hold on to you. Why you were my lighthouse guiding me home in my darkest days. Look, Peter. I've had time to decompress from all that has happened. I was hard on you. She used you and used our love against us. She knew that I cared for you and used that to get to you. Astrid was right. The feelings you had and have are real. They are for me. Peter, it is going to be hard for us, but it will be made a bit easier because I forgive you."
Peter made a mental note to thank Astrid later.
"I'll be home New Year's Eve. You and I can talk then. Alone. No distractions."
Peter practically bounded the stairs of the Bishop home, like a little boy racing to the tree on Christmas morning. He felt like his heart had swelled to overtake his chest, much like the Grinch that stole Christmas. Except Peter was never a Grinch. He was just a confused and abused man that had the whole rug torn from under his life. But he never felt better. Now, he is an active participant in life, instead of a passive runner. He now made his stand for the right reasons. He had his dad back in his life, yes dad, the man who cared enough to save his life twice. He had a good friend and nearly a little sister in Astrid. And a pet cow. He laughed at the thought of having watched "It's a Wonderful Life." He knows all too well the thoughts of "what if I had never been born?"
But most of all, he had the forgiveness of the woman who mattered most to him. Peter was not a religious man; he had seen many thing that had made him question God or His motivations. But he sincerely prayed every night that Olivia would forgive him. She could hurt, she could be angry, but eventually it had to come down to simple grace. The Christmas spirit had truly entered the Bishop home that night, giving the message of love, hope and forgiveness that signifies the season. And it came in the form of a mere woman with an enduring spirit.