And now it's time for the first ghost! Isn't a Christmas story with ghosts the greatest thing ever?

Chapter 2: The Ghost of Christmas Past

Ratchet found himself waking up in the middle of the night, shivering from the cold that had since retaken the room, but his reach for the blankets was halted when he noticed a strange glow emanating from behind him. He pushed himself up to peek over the armrest, straightening up further when he spotted a glowing Clank floating a couple feet off the ground.

"Clank, what's going on? The Zoni aren't trying to kidnap you again, are they?"

The robot chuckled, drifting closer to float before him, while Ratchet clutched the armrest with both hands. "No, everything is fine, though strictly speaking, I am not Clank. I am actually the Ghost of Christmas Past."

"Huh?"

"You see, I know that you are upset over today's events. You believe that your Christmas is going to be ruined because you will have to spend it with Captain Qwark. I believe it is also safe to say that you even feel your life would have been more relaxing if you had never begun adventuring in the first place. Is that correct?"

The Lombax watched the strange specter of his friend, head tilted to the side and one eye squinted. "And how did you know I was thinking that?"

"Because, Ratchet, you are still dreaming, and I am, in a way, a mere figment of your subconscious. I know everything that you know. And I am here because I have something very important to show you."

"Uh, yeah, well, could it wait until morning, because I'm kinda trying to sleep right now?" Ratchet attempted to lay back down, his only hope that this rather unsettling specter would get the hint and leave him be, so he could return to some relatively normal dreaming, as far as dreams went, but was startled back upright when he found Clank, or whatever it was that was taking his friend's form, floating right before him over the coffee table.

"Ratchet, you are not getting out of this." The robot held out one arm. "Take my hand."

Ratchet leaned away, pressing his back into the couch behind him. "No…no thanks. I'm good."

"Ratchet."

The Lombax stared at him and then at the robot's outstretched arm before moving a hesitant hand towards that of the ghost, squeezing his eyes shut when he touched it. What was this supposed to do anyway? He saw a redness in his eyelids and opened one eye and then another.

"Veldin?"

A dusty, desolate landscape lay before them, a plateau of gold sand and stone lit by a sun that was just beginning to rise between tall peaks of rock. The only signs of life were weedy plants and a few stunted trees and the distant clucking of desert hens that had just woken up, their sounds the only thing drawing attention to a worn-out, old building that almost blended into the landscape around it, a building that looked like it might return to this landscape before too many more years had passed.

"Yes, this is your old home," Clank said, floating beside him. "And I am sure you recognize…"

"Veldin Orphanage." Ratchet frowned and looked over at his friend. "Why did you bring me here? Wait, on second thought, how did you bring me here?"

"This is a dream, Ratchet. I can do whatever I please. Come."

Before he knew what was happening, they were standing in a room with beds lining either side, but now wasn't a time for sleeping, the room now filled with the bustle of lizard-like Veld children in pajamas, waking up and jumping out of bed in quite the hurry, though it was not currently clear what all the excitement was about. The children began to scurry out of the room, speeded by the call of a woman downstairs. It wasn't long before the room was empty, empty, that is, except for one lone child, still lying in bed. They lay on their stomach, arms wrapped around the pillow, only the back of their head visible, though that was enough to confirm that this child was different in more than just their lack of enthusiasm.

"Hey," Ratchet began to walk around to the other side of the bed in an effort to see the child's face, "is that…"

"Ratchet, get down here, or we may very well start without you!"

The young Lombax buried his face in the pillow with a groan, giving a mumbled "I'm coming!"

The elder Ratchet scratched his head. "Uh, hey…younger me? What's wrong?"

The child pushed himself out of bed and, without so much as a glance at his older counterpart, shuffled by with a reluctance very much unlike the eagerness of the other children.

"Hey, where are you going? I was talking to you!"

"He cannot hear you," Clank said. "This may be a dream, but it is also a depiction of the past. We are here only to watch."

"Right…" Ratchet shrugged. "I guess…let's get going, then."

He began to follow his younger self out the doorway, turning the corner to overlook the room below, all the children gathered around a rather flimsy tree covered in crude, hand-made ornaments that had to be hung from tacks stuck in its trunk to make up for its lack of branches. Or perhaps their true focus was not the tree, but a familiar, slightly plump Veld woman with a down-sloping crest, wearing her usual, simple dress, who was currently handing out small presents in plain paper to each boy and girl that ran up to her.

"Miss Mirla." Ratchet began to head downstairs, one hand trailing down the banister. "I remember her. Strict, but most of the time, she wasn't so bad."

He caught sight of his younger self, who had stopped a short distance behind everyone else, watching them with drooping ears and tail, hands fidgeting with each other. He stood out like a bent tail, as the saying went, the only Lombax in a room of Velds. He still remembered very well what that was like. It was an isolation he still felt years later from time to time.

"You must have been lonely," Clank said.

"Yeah. I was always the outcast. Even when people didn't treat me like I was, it still always felt that way." He turned away from the younger Lombax to look at the robot beside him. "But, what's the deal? I complain about one Christmas, so you show me another one that sucked?"

"If you do not know why I am showing this to you, then perhaps we must stay longer."

Ratchet looked down, kicking one foot and trying to focus on anything but the child standing alone not far away. "Do we have to? I'd like to get some rest while I'm, well, sleeping."

He looked back at his friend when no answer was heard, finding the robot frowning at him, and looked away again.

By now, the other children had cleared out from around the tree, going off in groups to open simple gifts, all sitting on the large, dusty rug that covered much of the rough, wooden floor, a rug whose purpose was as much for looks as to prevent splinters, Miss Mirla holding one last present in her hands. She came forward, stopping before the young Lombax, who was busy staring at his feet.

"Ratchet, merry Christmas." She held the gift out, and he looked up, grabbing it after just a bit more fidgeting. He stared down at it, then back up at her, mouth slightly open, before returning his attention to the object in his hands. He began to unwrap it, while she waited, folding her hands before her. Eventually, enough of the paper had been torn away that he was able to pull out a pair of knitted socks.

The older Ratchet gave a laugh. "It was always the same thing every year. Socks she had knitted herself. Not the most exciting of presents, but I guess it was good. I always wore mine out pretty fast.

The child looked up, forcing the slightest of smiles, though it did little for the look in his eyes that had yet to go away. "Thanks."

The woman smiled back, hers with the feeling a smile ought to bear, and gave him a pat on the head. She could get away with it. Qwark, on the other hand, could not. "You're welcome."

Miss Mirla walked away, leaving the child standing there, socks still hanging from one hand, before he looked over at the other children that had already found friends to sit with. Friends that may all be lacking in families, just as he was, but at least they were the same. At least, they still belonged here on Veldin, and here together.

He had spent far too many years on his own, feeling like an outsider, even more than an orphan should, when at least everyone else shared the same features, while he…he was different. Different in appearance, with a different people to call his own, though he had yet to even meet someone of his own kind back then, from a different planet he had yet to see, and that he didn't even know the name of. Not back then. Even now he was still on his own, but it was not quite the same as it was back then.

Ratchet turned away, heading towards the tree, moving around it as he inspected the ornaments, stopping when he found the one he was looking for, a rough rendition of a Lombax, made out of paint and paper and sticks and hanging from a string held up by a tack. It was clearly a child's work, and thus lacking in some of the refinement needed to tell others what it was, but the color and the large ears made it more obvious what it was intended to be.

"You made that?" Clank asked.

Ratchet grinned, though based on his eyes, he still could feel what the child who had made it had. "It was nice not being the only Lombax."

He reached out to touch the ornament, then, pulled his hand back when it went right through.

"We are not actually here, remember? This is the…"

"Yeah, yeah." After a pause, Ratchet looked back at his friend, eyebrow raised. "So I can go right through this, but I can walk around without falling through the floor just fine?"

Clank shrugged, shaking his head. "I do not make the rules."

"I made cookies! Come get them while they're fresh!"

These words created another uproar, and Ratchet peeked around the tree to find Miss Mirla with a tray piled high with frosted cookies, the children nearly toppling each other over in their rush to reach the sweets with an enthusiasm that only hinted at the energy they'd have after consuming the sugary snacks.

"No pushing! And only one per person!" With her free hand, she snatched one child by the sleeve who had grabbed a cookie in either hand, directing a withering glare at him, before he took a bite out of one, put it back, then, managed to run off with the other. "Tam!"

She huffed when he only looked back, but kept running, making no move to act further, though Ratchet knew under normal circumstances, her judgment was swift and inescapable.

The plate began to empty out, and she called out one final warning. "And don't leave any crumbs! We have enough ants as it is!"

With the ruckus dying down, Ratchet began to make his way out from the relative safety of the tree. Whether the children could simply run right through him or not, a pack of stampeding children was not something he wanted to be in the middle of. He surveyed the room, filled with children wolfing down their treats like Miss Mirla may very well change her mind and take them back, the warning about crumbs appearing not to be taken into consideration.

He frowned, scanning the room. "Where'd I go?"

His younger self was indeed nowhere to be found, despite the fact that, with his differing appearance, he should have been rather easy to spot. On the hunt for his past self, Ratchet walked by Miss Mirla, who was currently considering the last cookie, the treat held in one hand, seemingly unaware of the child hiding behind her, in fact, the same one that had gotten away with a cookie and a bite earlier. He watched the treat with eyes clouded by avarice, before pouncing, reaching for it, but he was too slow. She pulled it away before he could even lay a finger on it, putting the cookie in her mouth to free up one hand to land a whack on his behind, the child letting out a squeal before making his escape. She removed the cookie from her mouth, now missing a piece. "Delinquent."

Ratchet raised an eyebrow at this display before passing by, heading through the doorway into the next room, set aside for mealtime, complete with several wooden tables, chairs, and an old grandfather clock that never kept the proper time. He remembered he had attempted to fix it when he was older, thinking if he was to be a mechanic someday, and the inner workings of a clock appeared to be mechanical, that meant he should be able to repair it. He was wrong. From that day forth, the clock was purely decorative.

In here, windows that always stayed dusty no matter how many times they were wiped down let in weak light, and Ratchet listened, catching a quiet sound in addition to the ticking of the clock. He padded around the tables and chairs to find his child-self sitting in the corner, knees pulled to his chest and head buried in his arms, sobbing.

"Why were you crying?"

"Clank, why do I have to see this?"

"Believe me, you do."

Ratchet looked away, leaning his back against the wall with arms crossed. "You already know. I was lonely."

Clank sat on the end of the table before him, while Ratchet pointed a finger at him, coupled with an inquisitive look at how the robot managed to do so without going right through it. As before, Clank simply shrugged, the Lombax's vague gesture being understood, as it only could be by close friends, before speaking again. "Yes, you were lonely, but it was Christmas. It is a time to be happy. Why are you not spending it with the other children?"

"Because. Because I'm not like them."

"Does that matter?"

Ratchet turned away to walk farther from the other two. "It matters. I…I was different from everyone else. And they knew it. It…made a difference to them."

"It does not matter to me that we are not the same. We are still friends regardless."

He looked back. "No, we are not friends. You are just a figment of my imagination that just happens to look like Clank."

"And does that make my words any less true?"

Ratchet turned to face him fully again, shaking his head. "That…that doesn't matter. Where are you going with this anyway?"

"Where I am going is I am trying to show you how much better your life is now. You do not have to be alone anymore. Maybe you do not always get along with Captain Qwark and your life is much busier now than it was during your time on Veldin, but at least you have people that care about you. Is that not worth the extra trouble?"

Ratchet marched back over, gestures increasing in intensity to match his mood. "So you made me watch all this over again to teach me some kind of a lesson? I know things sucked back then. I was living in an orphanage. Of course, I wouldn't be happy. But, that also doesn't mean I have to enjoy having my life constantly interrupted by wackos trying to take over the galaxy. And when I do get time off, I don't want to spend it with idiots like Qwark. This," he waved an arm towards his younger self, "was not a fun time in my life, and I don't need the reminder. But, that doesn't make a difference with what's happening in my life now."

Clank shook his head. "I was hoping you would have understood the point I was trying to make."

"Well, no, I guess I didn't. So can we just…"

They looked over when Miss Mirla peeked into the room before coming in the rest of the way, empty tray in one hand, blinking behind the glasses perched on her snout. "Ratchet, are you in here?"

There were a few more sniffles, and then the room was silent again, but that was enough. She put the tray down on the table nearest her, then, made her way towards the source of the noise, the elder Ratchet moving out of the way.

"Ratchet, you really mustn't cry. Come now, what's the matter?" She knelt down when she reached the child, who turned to face the wall better, rubbing his face with one arm.

"I…I wasn't crying."

"You know you mustn't lie. Now tell me, what is wrong?"

"I hate Christmas," the younger Ratchet said, before breaking out into sobs again before he could suppress them.

"And why is that?"

"Because."

"'Because' is not an answer."

"Because," he sniffled, rubbing his face more. "Because…" He sniffed again, blinking in thought. "Why aren't there any other Lombaxes?"

"Is that why you're upset?"

He nodded, and she put her hands on either side of his head, making him face her before she wiped away his tears with one sleeve of her dress, the child squirming until she was finished. But even then, he didn't look away, this time looking up at her and wiping his nose with one hand. "I don't want to be alone."

She moved to sit on her feet before she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him to her chest. "Dear, you won't always be." She patted his arm, and he made no further efforts to struggle. "You'll surely have people to call family someday. Don't you worry."

The child made a muffled sound, but whether it was in agreement or just that, a sound, was not certain. At least, not to those that couldn't know what had been going on inside the young Lombax's head that day.

The older Ratchet walked away, wrapping his arms around himself again. "Can't we just go?"

"Very well."

Clank floated by him and through the wall of dusty windows, and Ratchet followed at a slower pace, stopping by the robot outside, the sun now higher, morning long begun, all the darkness now wiped from the sky.

"So, is that all? You just wanted to show me that I had it worse before?" Ratchet said, not looking at the other.

"Not just that. I wanted you to think."

"You didn't show me anything I didn't already know. The worst part of my life was at that orphanage," he turned to the robot, "but I finally left it. Things got better after that."

"Did they now?"

"Yes," he strode away, arms gesturing around him, "Because I was finally free. Free to lead my own life."

"But, were you happy?"

He spun around. "Yes! Of course, I was."

"And your life was peaceful, I suppose."

"Yes, it was." He turned away again, endless desert and rock ahead of him, but it was his home and always would be, even when he was separated from it by light years of space. It was where he had grown up, after all. "I may have been unhappy when I was a kid, but things were fine once I was on my own." Everything was fine, back when I was still living on Veldin, and I could do as I pleased. When I could be left alone.

"We'll see about that."

And Ratchet had the feeling of falling, the ground and the sky rushing away past him until there was only the blackness of sleep again.

As you can see, I had to make up a race that lives on Veldin. With it being a desert-like place, I just went with bipedal lizard people. How creative of me.

Anyway, it was fun contemplating over Ratchet's past. Who do you guys think the Ghost of Christmas Present is going to be? Please review.