It was the morning of the 24th. Little Casper loved Christmas, even more when his uncles were around. More specifically, when his uncle Steven was around. And even knowing the much older man was not religious, he knew he loved every single Christmas they spent together.
Casper's father was a busy man. Sometimes he would be away for several months trying to sell one of his many inventions, but in that particular Christmas, he was there to spend the holiday with his family. Even thought everything seemed so bright and happy, Casper knew something was wrong. His mother was having some bad pains and could barely move. When he asked the grownups what had happened, he got no answer other than 'everything will be alright'.
But at that night, he didn't bother about it. After all... All that mattered was that his whole family was reunited for a peaceful Christmas. Together. What could have went wrong?
A few days before, Steven had woken up with a bad illness. 'Must have being for playing in the snow...' Casper thought. At the sight of his favorite uncle sick, Casper tried his best to help him recover. He didn't really knew that, but he was starting to annoy the man. Early in the morning, he sneaked into the older man's bedroom and sat right next to him.
"Uncle Stevie? You awake?" He softly asked, shaking the man lightly. No answer. He further laid on the bed, and pulled the man into a hug. For him, it was a love gesture.
"Hey, whadda heck?!" Steven jumped, startled. "Who's, what, where, ya say a- Casper!" He said, falling on his back.
Casper grinned innocently. "Hey, uncle Stevie! How are you feeling?"
"Da heart attack ya gave me 'side, am great." Steven said, as he shoved the boy away. "Dun't ya tink it is a lil' too early ta sneak up on people?"
"Well..." Casper scratched the back of his neck. "Maybe... But I still don't know how do you read a lock, uncle Stevie."
"Lock? Ya mean a clock?" Casper nodded. Steven grabbed a clock that was by the bedside. "HOLY CRAPOLA! 5AM?! Ya even slept?!"
Casper assent with his head nervously. "Y-yeah, I did. But I woke up, and I thought that... That maybe you would wake up for we to talk a little! It always cheers you up!" He smirked.
"I dun wanna be cheered up" Steven replied, cold-heartdly. "Get out."
"B-but..."
"Now." Steven's tone left no room for arguments, and the boy left, right after murmuring a 'sorry' as he saw the man tuck in bed again.
A few hours after, or what Casper judged to be so, by looking at the position of the arrows of the clock, he entered his uncle's room again, just to find him sleeping.
"Uncle?" He turned the man's head for him slightly, but withdrew his hand. His forehead was very hot. In an attempt to help, he picked a wet towel up, and proceeded to laying it at his forehead. He missed the fact that the towel wasn't really in a pleasant temperature, specially for a man that is sleeping.
"WHAT DA FLYIN' HEEEEEEEECK?!" Steven yelled, terrified, and fell off the bed, knocking both of them over. "You, again?! Why do ya insist in comin' in here?!"
Casper at that point was already shaking in fear. "I-I came here to s-see if-if you were awake, b-but your forehead was burning so I-"
"Is dat of yer freakin' concern?!" He snapped as he pulled the child onto his lap, and sent his hand crashing down his back. "You, don't, dare, comin', in, here, again!" He finished, shoving his nephew away. Casper was sobbing uncontrollably on the floor. Steven, however, kept his composure and pushed Casper out of the room. "Don't ya dare botherin' meh again!" He slammed the door shut. Casper went back into his room, still crying, and fell in his pillow, soaking it with tears.
"Dat freaken'..." Steven was still mad and was walking in circles on his room, already fed up with his headache. That wasn't long before he heard low whimpers from outside the room. He peaked his head out in the corridor, and stared at his nephew's bedroom door. He sighed. "Nice goin', Steven, ya supposed ta be at least decent and ya lose yer temper over yer 7-year-old nephew whom still gets over-excited 'bout snow." He stepped forward and knocked at his door. "Lil' one?" Silence. "May I come in?"
"You're still mad at me?" Casper's voice was barely a whisper.
"I were nevah mad at ya." That spoken, the older man entered the boy's room, and found him curled up in his pillow. He felt a small pain of guilt tugging him, and sat right next to him, pulling the child into a hug. "I'm... I'm sorry, Cas, I-I didn't meant ta do dat. Ya see, I ain't feelin' well... I, I tink I got a lil' carried away wit mah anger... It's... It's not like I'm mad at ya, I ain't mad, I'm jus' sick 'o bein' sick. Can ya understand dat?" Casper sniffled as he listened to his uncle's words. "Y-yes..." He moved away to face the man. "I'm really sorry, uncle Stevie, I just got worried about you... You seemed so weak..." Fresh tears came to the boy's eyes, and his uncle dried them gently. "I know... I ain't feelin' very well... But ta know ya are dere fa meh makes me feel betta. I'm workin' on recovery... Ya dun have ta worry because soon I'll be jus' fine. Now it is da time fa us ta stap da sadness, stand up, and celebrate Christmas. It's da best time in da whole year!" He laughed and hugged the boy tight. There was a moment of silence between uncle and nephew.
"Uncle Stevie?" Came Casper's voice.
"Yep?"
"Will you show me how do you read the hours? I don't wanna go jumping on you too early."
Steven smiled, and picked up the clock. "Sure ting, kid. Afta all... I wouldn't really want ya losin' midnight."