A Panic Stark Christmas
Merry Christmas to all, and happy holiday's to anyone who celebrates another. Since Christmas is the only holiday that I've ever celebrated, I've decided to write a special story for Panic's universe. A holiday special, more specifically, Panic's first Christmas with Pepper and Tony. Well, maybe Christmas Eve/decorating for the festivities.
Bright red and green lights are strung one wall to the next in a continuous pattern. The scent of cinnamon pine cones burns my nose, making my eyes water. A large green tree sits in the center on the living room, completely bare. I raise an eyebrow before shaking my head at this insanity. What the hell are they doing?
Tony and Pepper have been at this all morning. They don't know I've been sitting on the staircase watching them string up the lights, hang the wreath, and set up the tree. I've just been watching out of curiosity. I know it's nearly Christmas, but why are they going so all out on this one holiday?
Back when my mother was still alive, we'd curl up under the blankets on her bed with the smallest little tree in a palm sized pot. The tree just barely three inches out of the soil. The lack of leaves never mattered to me, the fresh scent of pine was something that wasn't mandatory. And we couldn't put any present beneath it, not that I got very many anyways.
For us it was about the special meaning behind the tree. Not the gifts, not the possibilities, but the looking forward. The chance to look at what could be and what might be in the future. A world of possibilities at your fingertips. The love between family members, the way people cherished one anther. The way she loved me and the way I loved her back with everything in me. For us, that's what Christmas was about, not this.
Not the commercialism, the vanity of it. The strung up lights, the expensive wreaths and trees and decorations. All the food and non-essential items that are simply waited by selfish people for no reason. My lip curls, I can feel it, the disgust welling in the pit of my stomach and I watch with burning eyes.
Pepper's hips swayed lightly to the sound of Christmas music playing on the stereo system. In her hands she held three red items with with white fabric bordering the top where the object opened. They looked like gigantic socks. Glancing away, I keep back a scoff. What a weird tradition, hanging socks on your burning fireplace. Fire hazard much?
Pepper carefully sets one by one on stocking holders, at least that's what she called them when Tony asked what she was doing. I shake my head, that's what those are. Stockings. Those odd things that the supposed Santa Claus fill with candy if your good and coal if your bad. My mother never lied to me, she never let me believe in Santa Claus, it would get my hopes up.
Like some mythical jolly man in red would come and save me, save us. If he was real though, who would he be to decide what's right and wrong in a world made of chaos and tragedy. Is what I've done to survive justify me to this so-called naughty list? What about everyone that's been horrible to me, are they getting off scot free because they helped an old lady across the street.
Is my cynicism at times condemn me? If I look to the heavens and change what I believe, does that make me better than any of the blind sheep that follow the deceptive and manipulative ram. Or am I overthinking things like usual? Maybe I'm in too deep, thinking to hard. What does it matter, Santa's not real and neither is any other folktale told of this holiday, of any holiday really.
Pushing my thoughts to the back of my mind, I try to keep myself focused on what Pepper's doing. Just as she places the last stocking on the final holder, Tony comes in and sets down a box. Pepper's grin deepens.
"What is all that stuff?" she asks, stepping forward to get a closer look at the box he just placed there.
Tony doesn't answer, instead, he open the box and I have to climb higher up the stairs to see what's in it. Ornaments. A box filled to the brim with Christmas ornaments that don't seem to special, but by the look in Tony's eyes, they're important to him and that's good enough for me to know they must have some personal meeting to him.
"Tony," Pepper' voice trails off. She must know their importance as well. "T-those are…, are you sure to want to…"
"Yes. It's Panic's first Christmas with us and I want it to be special. From what Panic's mentioned about her mother, she was a sentimental woman and I want this to be memorable for her."
"I'm sure she'll love anything you do for the holiday, but these are you mother's handcrafted ornaments Tony. You've never pulled them out before," Pepper said. "No since the accident..."
"I know, but Panic cherishes the little things more than the big extravagant gifts and bribes. Something personal like this for the tree would be more suited for Panic and maybe even for us. It's time for a change and this is the first step," he smiles, reaching into the box to hold up a glass globe ornament painted in sparkling gold all along the outside except for the ball's center where a picture of a husband and wife with their young son sits inside.
Pepper stares at him lovingly, her green eyes softening with every second. She brushes a strand of strawberry blond hair behind her ear. "Want me to go get her so we can decorate the tree together? You know, like a family would."
"Yeah. She's probably in her room. It's been four month's and she still feel a bit out of place and awkward," Tony said, a frown on his face.
"I wouldn't get too down about it Tony, she's a fifteen year old girl who's suffered a lot and hasn't really had much to her name. She grew up poor remember, this is all new to her, she'll adjust. Now, I'll be right back."
Pepper turned and started down the hallway and nearly shrieked when she saw me sitting on the staircase. I give her a casual wave as she climbs the steps and takes a seat beside me.
"You've been here the whole time haven't you?" she asks, a knowing tone in her voice. I only give a slight nod as answer. "Well, come on and join us. We're gonna need all the help we can get to decorate that monster tree in there."
She gets up and starts to walk away, but stops when she realizes I haven't moved an inch from my spot on the stairs. "Is something wrong?"
"Why?" I ask, my honesty shinning through.
Pepper stares at me in puzzlement. "Why? Why what Panic?"
"Why decorate, what's the point when it all comes down come January 1st. What's the point in going all out on decorations and gifts and everything when it doesn't matter. When it's not the reason for the holiday to be celebrated?"
She purses her lips. "Oh. It's not about that per say Panic, the decorations aren't a replacement for the actual holiday, it just embodies it, brings the holiday to life in your home. It's more for the people than anything else. It's a fun family activity for people to decorate and—"
She gets cut off by Tony entering the hallway. "Hey Pep, it just started snowing. We're suppose to get between six to eight inches of snow overnight and all. Maybe we can build a snowman. I always wanted to, but my dad never— never mind. Oh, Panic! Didn't see you there. Are gonna decorate the tree with us."
I narrow my eyes, but rise to my feet. Following after Pepper, I get on my knees by the box in Tony left there. Just as I reach into the box, a new Christmas song plays over the radio.
Oh, the weather outside is frightful
But the fire is so delightful
And since we've no place to go
Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow
Looking towards the large overlooking windows on the side of the room, I watch the puffy white snowflakes fall from the sky in slow decent of harmony. Like all is right in a world of madness. It reminds me of one Christmas with my mom, it was was back when. I must've been only five of six at the time, but I remember it as clearly as if it were today when it happened.
It doesn't show signs of stoppin'
And I've brought some corn for popping
The lights are turned way down low
Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow
We had barricaded ourselves inside her bedroom for the night. My step-father Ian Powell was gone again, as per-usual. Getting drunk down at the bar on the corner leaving us to ourselves into he came home in a drunken rage. She'd bought one of those tin cans with three different kinds of popcorn for five dollars at the store, a mini tree in a pot, and one small gift for me.
"Merry Christmas Panic my angel," a tear slipped down her cheek as she quickly wiped it away. A shuddering sigh escaping her. "I'm so sorry for all of this my child. All you've suffered through because of my choices. I never wanted you to live like this, in fear."
"M-mommy...?" I ask, my lip trembling.
"He's scary, I know he is. If I would have known that before I..." she shakes her head. "It was my job to protect you and keep you safe, but all my decisions have done is make things worse on you. You never deserved to suffer like this. You my child are going to make big things with the brilliant mind of yours, you're going to make a difference one day."
I crawl towards her, hesitantly. Mommy never talks like this, hasn't for awhile. Usually she hides her feelings to keep me from worrying. Something isn't right about all of this. "Mommy, what's going on."
She tears her wet eyes from the mini tree and they focus on me. Emerald eyes shaking with the force to keep her tears back. "You're the most important thing to me and so I've been thinking about something. I need to get you away from this, from him. Maybe you can stay with a friend of mine for awhile, he was a good friend of Mommy's brother."
"But Mommy, I don't wanna go. I don't want to leave you here, all alone with him. You can't..." I'm pleading with her at this point.
Mommy sighs, pulling me into her. She wraps her arms around me and rocks me like when I was younger, breathing in the scent of my hair as she absentmindedly, rubs my arms. Just then the door slams out and I hear footsteps on the other side. He's home... Fear shoots through all my nerves like I took a direct shot from a bolt of lightning.
The doorknob rattles in anger, before he kicks the door open and steps inside with bloodshot eyes. He glances from mother, to me, to the can of popcorn, and to the tree. He scowls, the scent of alcohol burning my senses. "Having a Christmas Party without me, eh?"
"N-n-no, it's not so much as a party. Y-you're home early..." Mommy tries to calm him. His scowl deepens as he reaches out and snatches my hand, yanking me from Mommy's grip.
"Panic!" Mommy rises to her feet. Fear in her eyes at what he'll do. He wrenches me across the living room and tosses me into my bedroom and reaches for the doorknob. He flashes a skin crawling smile.
"Luckily for you Bastard, I have some personal business to take care of with your mother," he slams the door shut and I hear him brace a kitchen chair underneath the doorknob. As the Christmas tune played from Mommy's record player.
When we finally kiss goodnight
How I hate going out in the storm
But if you really hold me tight
All the way home I'll be warm
Following that was Mommy's shriek, the sound of him dragging her across the hardwood floor. Her bed squeaks as she lands on the comforter. He gives a low laugh at what he's doing. Even if I can't see it, I know what happens next.
"Y'know, I've been wondering about something and I wanna give it a shot in the back..."
"P-please... No, no, no, no please."
He laughs. "I wasn't asking bitch."
Mommy screams in agony, a guttural cry of pain and desperation. Of the loss of hope and everything the comes along with it. She grunts with each impact, the headboard of her bed hitting roughly against the wall with every thrust. It the middle, Mommy stops making noises. And Christmas became a living nightmare for me and Mommy, we both grew to detest the season.
"Panic..."
My eyes clench shut, trying to block out the memory and the music to accompany it. The sound just won't stop...
"Panic...!"
Shaking my head, I hold my hands to my ears, keeping my eyes shut tightly.
"Panic!" I feel a hand on my shoulder. Reflexively, I flinch and wait for the incoming shoot. But, nothing happens. I hesitantly open one eyes, expecting to see my step-father, but instead see Tony Stark. The man who I've hated for all my fifteen, almost sixteen years. My actual father, sober on Christmas Eve and not even attempting to hit me.
The fire is slowly dying
And my dear, we're still goodbying
But as long as you love me so
Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow
"Are you alright?" he asks me with total honesty in his words, his brown eyes that I inherited filled with concern. Concern? For me...?
Shaking it off, I nod my head. "Yeah, sorry. I was just..." I pause. I don't want him to know about my step-father, besides, the past is the past and he'll never find me or know where I am. How would Ian Powell find me anyway... I think back to the press conference about me. Maybe that's how...
"Just thinking about a past Christmas, one that wasn't quite as... peaceful as this," I say, noting how Pepper and Tony pass a look between each other. It's like they're speaking in code with just that look. I don't know what they are saying, but I know it's about me.
"You've had some really bad holiday experiences, haven't you?" Tony asks, I just nod. Not trusting my voice just yet. "Look, I don't know what happened back then, maybe someday you'll be comfortable enough to tell me, but this is a safe place okay. I'm not gonna hurt you and neither is Pep. I just wanted to give you a nice holiday experience."
"I know," I look up at him. "Thank you. It means a lot to me... Dad," I say, the last word still foreign on my tongue.
Pepper smiles at us before clasping her hands together. "How sweet, but we've got a tree here and it's not gonna decorate itself. Time to hop to it guys."
And just like that we began to pull one ordinate after another from the box. Everything in the box a sentimental and handmade item from Tony's deceased mother, something pulled out for me. I might not have a good history with Christmas, but I don't think Tony does either, and maybe together we can create new holiday memories, happy memories. One's that I won't mind dreaming about. I guess there's such a thing as Merry Christmas after all...
You know it's snowing, snowing
And I don't want to go
When we finally kiss goodnight
How I hate going out in the storm
But if you really hold me tight
All the way home I'll be warm
Ohh, the weather outside is frightful
But the fire is so delightful
And since we've no place to go
Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow
Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow
Let it snow, snow, snow