He couldn't say how long he slept. When he first opened his eyes he thought it might have been all night as he could see light through the gaps in the curtains. But after a couple of seconds of blinking, the lights clearly looked to be coming from some sort of flashlight or the like. He couldn't be sure, but his thoughts immediately turned to his previous conversation with Starburns. The first of his three 'friends'?
Jeff searched around for something hard or blunt to use. He had no idea who this was, but chances were, that anybody that Starburns knew and was willing to help someone fake their death; probably wasn't the nicest of guys. Jeff needed to be prepared.
Just between a gap between the curtains, at the corner of his bed, he spotted a basket full of umbrella's and canes. After paying a quick glance at the light, Jeff leaned over and eased his hand through the gap, just enough to clasp the nearest cane… and slid it out. Unfortunately, whoever held the light must have seen the movement, because it shown directly on his hand as he pulled the cane into the bed with him.
Jeff cursed under his breath and managed to get on his feet, holding the cane like a samurai warrior. With his luck the guy behind the curtain would be massive and have a gun, and there Jeff would be, in his underwear, holding a cane above his head.
A hand appeared at one of the curtains and Jeff tightened his grip around the cane. Without realizing it he held his breath and adjusted his feet so he could really get in a good blow. The curtain flew open and Jeff swung. Which would have worked fine if the springs under his feet hadn't chosen exactly then to give out and trip him up.
Instead of clobbering his intruder in the head, Jeff wound up laying at his feet in a heap of pillows and blankets. He turned himself around just in time to get a light in the face. Jeff shielded his eyes with his hands as he desperately tried to get a look at the intruder.
"Got to say Winger," a very familiar and refined voice said. "You've looked better."
"Duncan?" Jeff narrowed his eyes as the light moved away and he made out the face of the man standing over him.
"In the flesh… or rather I'm the 'Ghost of Christmas Past' woooooooohhh!"
Duncan helped Jeff up and then held his lantern up a little higher.
"Why don't you go get some clothes on, It's kind of uncomfortable in here with you standing around in nothing but your pants."
Jeff glared at the man but moved over to the side of the bed so he could retrieve his… pants… or trousers… or whatever the hell the british called them. As he dressed he kept glancing over at Duncan and shaking his head. The 'Ghost of Christmas Past'. Starburns really was taking this 'Dickens Special' seriously wasn't he? Though Jeff never would have pegged Duncan as the 'Ghost'.
"So how'd you get involved with Starburns?" Jeff said. "He offer to take the rap for your latest DUI?"
"Very funny Winger," Duncan said. "But the simple fact of the matter is that a Professor at Greendale doesn't exactly get paid top dollar. I found that some of my previous experience comes in handy for those looking to forge a new identity or stay in the states."
"So let me get this straight," Jeff pulled his shirt on. "You know all about forging identities and you couldn't have helped me out when I started at Greendale to get me a new degree or something like that?"
Duncan wandered over to the chair Jeff had fallen asleep in and examined the near empty bottle of alcohol. After shining the light over it he apparently decided that it wasn't worth his time to imbibe the remaining contents and turned back to Jeff.
"Jeff, when are you going to learn that some things in life you actually have to earn? I felt that you would benefit from your experience at Greendale, and I believe that you have; in large part thanks to me."
"How do you figure that?" Jeff pushed his feet into his shoes.
"When you came to Greendale you were a slimy, amoral, shallow, ex-lawyer… and while you're still all of those things, at least you're conflicted about it now," Duncan said. "And none of that would have happened if I hadn't guided you to stay with your Study Group."
"Ignoring your deluded version of the events," Jeff said. "If I made so much 'progress' then why are you here to help me fake my death and create a new identity?"
"Starburns pays well," Duncan shrugged. "Just because I think you should learn some moral character doesn't mean I think I need it."
"You're one of a kind Duncan," Jeff shook his head. "So we going to do this or not?"
"Why not," Duncan said and tossed Starburns' hat to Jeff. "Come along Winger, we have to give you a new past."
"Where we going?" Jeff examined the hat then looked up at Duncan.
"To the Cave of Frozen Memories!" Duncan held the lantern above his head and waggled his free hand melodramatically. Jeff rolled his eyes and Duncan glared at him. "Oh just shut up Winger, and follow me."
Duncan took one step then turned around and gave Jeff a once over. "Put on the hat."
"What?"
"Put on the hat."
"Are you kidding me?" Jeff said. "I should throw this hat in the fire! It's been on Starburns head!"
"Sorry Jeff, but that's a term of the agreement tonight. You wear the hat or I don't teach you what you need to know."
Jeff sighed and put the hat on his head and did his best to ignore the smug look on Duncan's stupid face. This really better had been worth it.
Together they made their way through the halls of Hawthorne Manor. Every time they turned a corner Jeff worried that they would run into a member of his study group. Things would be awkward enough anyway without having to explain what the hell he was doing out in the middle of the night with Professor Duncan, wearing a top hat.
Luckily they made it to their destination without seeing so much as a single person. And soon they were entering some secluded room covered in Hawthorne family portraits, including a massive one of Pierce when he was thirty… and wearing all leopard print. Below all the portraits were rows and rows of photo albums and document folders. Including a couple that were entitled "Perry Lesbian Evidence" and "Winger Gay Files". Jeff did his best to ignore it as Duncan meandered over to some cabinets.
"So what is this place?" Jeff said.
"This is the Hawthorne Chamber of Records," Duncan said. "I've been coming here for years to get the things I needed."
"What?" Jeff narrowed his eyes as he wandered closer to the cabinets Duncan was working on opening.
"Now before we begin," Duncan said. "Why don't we take a moment to consider why you want to end your life and start a new one?"
"Instead," Jeff grabbed the handle of the nearest cabinet and pulled it open. "We skip your hackneyed psychoanalysis and just get on with it."
"Have it your way Winger," Duncan shrugged. "But it is something you'll need to confront eventually. Is your life right now really that bad?"
"I never said I even wanted to go through with it," Jeff said. "Starburns said you would convince me."
"Of course he did," Duncan sighed. "Jeff, take a look around you. On the walls, on the bookshelves, and in these files are generations worth of memories. Say what you will about the rampant racism, the Hawthornes kept extensive records to prove their pureblood ancestry."
"And that does what, except ensure them the right to call everybody else a filthy mudblood?"
"The point is, these aren't just pictures in a frame or names on a page. They're people's memories, some good, some bad. You'll be leaving your own behind and stealing someone else's. That isn't something to do casually. Think of all the Christmas's that you'll be stealing."
Jeff gave Duncan as sidelong glance as he approached a photo album entitled 'Christmas '09'. Before he could open it, he heard a sharp clicking followed by a light firing from the opposite side of the room. When he turned to it, he saw Duncan standing behind a projector, aimed right at the wall.
"What's this?" Jeff stepped away from the wall and over to Duncan.
"Visual proof about what's to happen," Duncan said as Jeff stood along side him. "This is Christmas, 1945, the Allies had just one the war, the United Nations was formed, and Pierce Hawthorne was celebrating his sixth Christmas."
Jeff crossed his arms as he looked at the film that was well older than himself. On the wall he saw a group of men, women, and children surrounding a massive Christmas tree… covered in what looked like KKK symbols. Apparently keeping the holiday 'classy' was a Hawthorne family tradition.
After a couple minutes of searching the various black and white faces, Jeff gave up and looked to Duncan. "Which one is Pierce?"
"He's about to come on," Duncan said as a young six year old with one of the widest smiles Jeff had ever seen jumped in front of the camera.
Young Pierce tugged at his bowtie and then began dancing the jitterbug. This lasted all of ten seconds before an old man, probably his grandfather, slapped him upside the face and pointed at the corner. Jeff glared at the long dead man then chided himself for actually feeling a little bit of sympathy for Pierce.
"The Hawthorne's had an old family tradition," Duncan said. "Nobody got to open presents until the entire family was there. Pierce is waiting for his dad to come home."
"Is he out shooting the Yule Elephant?" Jeff said.
Duncan didn't respond but the film cut out for a second before coming in at apparently a different time. Young Pierce sat in his chair, swinging his legs back and forth with his presents sitting literally a half inch out of arm reach. His mother hovered nearby talking to him and pointing at one particular package or another before leaning down and kissing him on the cheek.
And then Pierce's head perked up and all heads turned off camera. Pierce jumped out of his chair and ran out of view. The camera man panned over to follow him until the young boy reached the door. Pierce jumped up and down in anticipation for his dad to walk through the door and Christmas to begin.
Then the door opened but Pierce's horrible dad didn't walk through, instead it was someone else in a dark suit. He nodded down to the boy then approached Pierce's mother, slipping off his fedora as he spoke to her. Her brows knit together in frustration and anger… off in the corner, Pierce stood with an uncertain look on his face.
The man left and Pierce's mom dipped herself a large cup of eggnog and downed the entire thing, before turning to the camera and saying something to the cameraman. The picture faded into blurriness before refocusing again, as if the cameraman had left it momentarily to speak with Mrs. Hawthorne.
It focused in on Pierce, standing by himself by the door. The camera had landed right on him, in just the way it needed to, to show the young boy's devastated eyes and down turned lips. Jeff felt himself grow still as he looked young Pierce in the eyes.
Because in the blink of one of those eyes, he wasn't looking at Pierce, he was looking at himself. He was seeing his sixth Christmas when instead of opening presents, they went to local bars looking for his dad. Or his eighth Christmas, the one his dad promised would be different, and his dad took all of their presents before they could open them and gave them to a loan shark.
Jeff recognized the look on Pierce's face all too well, and on the face of Pierce's mother as she struggled to find a way to make this better for her son but didn't know how. A face mixed with equal parts fury and sadness.
"Why the hell are we watching this?" Jeff finally said to Duncan.
"Because," Duncan said. "This is what Christmas was for you, and me, and countless other kids. All of us have memories we want to get rid of. Changing your identity means you finally get to put those behind you. If you agree to it, we'll be taking documents from one of Pierce's dead relatives and making them yours. Tell me Winger, how many Christmas's did you have like this? Are you ready to throw them away?"
Jeff stared at the wall with Pierce one last time before turning to the nearest cabinet. "Turn it off and find me the right documents."
"So it's agreed?" Duncan turned it off and reignited his lantern. "You're ready to become someone new, with better Christmas memories?"
"I'm not saying no," Jeff said.
"Alright then," Duncan said and pulled out a manila envelope. "I've already taken the liberty of taking the records from Thaddeus Hawthorne Esq. Pierce's Great, Great Uncle. A lawyer, just like yourself, no doubt something you'll find useful… assuming of course that you'll want to be a lawyer in your new life."
Jeff snatched the envelope from Duncan's hands and scanned it, noting the dates of birth and social security number issued very late in this man's life… very long life. There were medical records too, which Jeff assumed would be his… which meant he would survive getting shot in a duel and cholera. He cast a skeptical eye at Duncan.
"Don't worry Winger," Duncan said. "I'll update everything so that it matches the modern era, this is hardly the first time I've done this."
"Which leads to the obvious question," Jeff said. "How many times have you done this? Seems you could have saved yourself a lot of trouble when I got you out of that DUI if you just could have made a new you."
"Well of course I could have!" Duncan said and gestured toward the door waiting until Jeff followed. As he passed him he yanked the envelope back in his hands. "But unlike you, Winger, I don't believe in running from my problems. So I stuck it out and paid the price."
"You paid me to convince a jury of your peers that it's considered polite in England to kiss a police officer on the mouth and offer him a 'banging' time in the back of the vehicle you just plowed into a public fountain."
"Don't forget the chalupas." Duncan pointed at him.
"And the chalupas," Jeff said as they moved into the hall.
Together they made their way back to Jeff's room. Duncan always hovered behind him with his lantern, spouting off various psychological reasons why it would be a bad idea to fake his death. All of which Jeff just ignored while he thought back to the many Christmases his father ruined, and the ones after when it was just his mom and him and the best she could do would be a Happy Meal toy and a sweater from his grandma.
Sure he'd always remember that but if he did steal an identity from one of Pierce's ancestors, he really could start fresh. He would never have to have a bad Christmas again. He'd never have to have any Christmas again if he didn't want to! He certainly wouldn't be in a position where he was blamed for ruining Christmas.
Finally they reached his room. When the doors opened the fire now burned down to low embers and the only real source of light was Duncan's lantern. Jeff reached for the light switch but Duncan grabbed his hand and shook his head.
"Best not," he said. "We don't want anybody to know you're up and about. The less light the better."
"Whatever," Jeff said and moved over to his chair. "So what now?"
"Now… I have to go," Duncan said. "I have to tweak these documents and have them ready for processing tomorrow. I'll be pulling an all nighter thanks to your unfinished business Winger."
"I haven't even decided if I'm going through with it," Jeff said.
"Of course you have," Duncan said. "All your life you've taken the easy way out. Now, at the culmination of nearly four years of toil, why would you see it to the end? That's who you are, and as your friend, I have to say it was very predictable."
"Can we please stop with the lecturing?" Jeff turned from the chair and approached Duncan. "It only works if you have even a modicum of moral high ground and you forget I'm not one of your students, I know the real you."
"Just like I know the real you," Duncan said. "I'm the only one at Greendale that knew you before you came. And it doesn't matter how much you, at one point, convinced your little group otherwise; you haven't changed. You're still the man that cheats and steals his way to get whatever he wants. Which really makes your whole group really sad, because after four years, they still couldn't reform you. Not even the brunette with the boobs."
"Over the line Duncan!" Jeff marched up to him. "Maybe I don't change, but that group is made up of good people!"
"Good people you exploited to pass classes, but now that you don't need to get a passing grade, what good are they to you? They're the ones who judge you and make you feel like a turd... and here you only ever banged Britta… you never even pulled the trigger on Annie."
"That's it!" Jeff gave Duncan a shove. "Get out! You don't know me! Nobody here does!"
"And you don't know them-" Duncan said.
Jeff interrupted him by grabbing him and shoving him again. Duncan lost is balance and fell hard on the ground, leaving his lantern lying a few feet away from him.. Jeff loomed over him but Duncan scrambled to the door, breathing heavily and uttering british cuss words.
"I don't ever want to see you again Duncan!" Jeff said. "Consider that part of my new life!"
"Ah," Duncan grinned as he stood in the open doorway. "Then it would appear I was right."
Jeff lunged at the nearest thing he could find, Duncan's Lantern, and hurled it at him. Duncan yelped and ducked out of the way, leaving the lantern to shatter against the wall. Jeff rushed forward but Duncan was already halfway down the hall. Jeff huffed and slammed his door shut before stalking over to his bed and throwing himself into it.
"Damn Duncan," he muttered to himself as he tried not to think about the psychology professor's triumphant look and how close he actually got to the mark. He needed a drink, he needed sleep, but most of all he needed to get away from this life.