WHEN YOU WISH UPON A STAR
Promises (Part Two)
Three Months Later
If Jamie Bennett has to pick the thing he hates the most about Australia, it's definitely the weather. Summer is sweltering hot without salvation; spring is wet while autumn is dry. And of course, the winters are freezing, yet it's not cold enough to snow. Even living near the sea, where the wind is wild, it never snows.
Maybe if his family didn't call every holiday season with recounts of Burgess' amazing displays of snow, he wouldn't feel so miserable about the lack thereof in Australia. But exactly on cue, the first day of December, Jamie receives a phone call from his mother.
"Jamie, sweetie, honestly, you have to be here to see it—the local kids have a snow day on the first day of the season, isn't that convenient?" she asks thoughtfully.
Yeah, only Jack Frost would do something like that. Jamie can't resist letting out an easy laugh, shaking his head and glancing out the window to see the sun glaring ruthlessly down on the beach.
"Lucky them. It's forty degrees here and only the beginning of December."
"Wow. Well, what I wouldn't give to be there in Australia. You know how I hate winter."
"I wish I was back home though."
"And have Jack Frost nipping at your nose? If you knew how cold it is here, you wouldn't say that, dear."
Yes. Yes, he would.
His mother laughs softly.
"I'm sorry, dear. I know you love snow and winter and white Christmases. It's a shame you never come up here to visit us. We all miss you, dear, especially Sophie," she says affectionately.
"I'm working all year round – if I get my boss to give me more than a week off, I promise I'll see you both soon."
"Alright. Take care, Jamie."
His parents have all good intentions, keeping him up with everything in Burgess, yet the same empty feeling returns to him when they mention how often snow falls back home.
If Jack could snow in his hometown, why couldn't it snow in his current one too?
He's always afraid that somehow, Jack had forgotten about him. It was certainly possible – millions of children around the world living in countries with constant snowfall, he works without a vacation and harder than Jamie himself does – he knows how hard it is.
And besides, Jamie's an adult, he gets it. Adults are no longer able to see Guardians, and Guardians put their light out – they're no longer considered believers anymore. But the light in him didn't go out, it never did. He still believes in those five, because they kept him strong. Especially Jack.
Saving a world together isn't easy to forget. Their promise to protect each other isn't something he'll ever forget. Jack is someone he'll never forget.
Doesn't he hold a special place in Jack's heart, as Jack does in his?
That night, sleep doesn't come easy.
He has a dream –he's ten years old again, and he and Jack are lying down together in the snow, making angels with their bodies.
"Hey, Jack?" a ten year old Jamie asks. Jack turns his head to look at him.
"Yeah, Jamie?"
"You promise you'll always look after me, right, Jack? You'll always protect me."
Jack smiles and nods, "always."
Then his dream is engulfed in a nightmare. It feeds on his fear of being alone, twisting something so serene and making it terrible.
He sits up in bed, startled, and slips out of the room, the memories of his childhood playing cinematically in his mind – it's endless. Soon, Clara sits up in bed, half awake when she realizes Jamie isn't lying next her.
He's downstairs, standing on the front porch. He needs some fresh air to relieve him of his painful thoughts. He puts a hand to his forehead.
"You're an adult now, Jamie. You've grown up," he tells himself, "don't dwell in the past."
Sighing he prepares to go inside for a rough night's sleep, when something catches his eye. It's twinkling in the sky. Toothiana? No, it's just a shooting star. But all the better to wish on.
"This Christmas, I wish to have promises made to me kept. I wish for happiness for my family forever and always, here and in Burgess. Snow…I wish for snow this holiday season. Make it a white Christmas, Jack. If you can."
He holds his hands clasped, silently hoping for a sign, but nothing comes.
"Come on, Jack…"
The weeks leading up to Christmas are always busy in the Burgess household. Well, normally, just for Jamie, running around granting each and every one of his family's last wishes.
Back in Burgess, Christmas season was the most important time of year. Everyone gave, and had something given back – it was a time for giving, not just receiving. In Australia, where December manages to reach forty degrees, his family simply does not have the energy to deal with his holiday hyperactivity.
"Clara, what kind of cookies do you think we should leave for Santa?"
"Um, Christmas is still weeks away, dear."
"I know but I think we should be prepared for it, don't you?"
"Well, if you say so, Jamie."
"Mike, what do you want for Christmas?"
"Uh, I hadn't really thought about that yet, Dad."
"How about that remote-control robot we saw at the store last week?"
"I guess that's kind of cool…"
"Alright! Red or blue?"
"Uh, I don't really know—"
"We'll get them both! How does that sound?"
"Uh, it's still a while before Christmas, Dad."
"I know, but don't you think we should be prepared?"
"I guess so…"
"Alice, do you want to help me set up the Christmas tree?"
"Not really, Dad."
"Well, do you want to help me hang up the stockings?"
"No."
"So, do you want to help me hang the light son our front porch."
"No, I don't want to Dad. Besides, Christmas is ages away! Why do we have to do this now?"
"Does nobody in this family understand the importance of Christmas preparation?"
"You're so lame, Dad!"
He's found the only bad thing about being a 'holiday enthusiast', as his parents call him, is that nobody else seems to share his spirit at the same level. Especially since they haven't met St. Nick, it's understandable that his expectations of Christmas are heightened to a point that no other can match.
He's noticed that not even the children can get into the spirit as much as he can – frankly, it disappoints Jamie a little bit. The cores of believers, the ones guardians look after, think that the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy are not worth believing in – 'they're just to fuel imagination. They're for little kids.'
He had been through it with Alice in middle school, when she was still a believer; all he wants is for Mike to keep the faith.
So in the coming weeks, Jamie is sure to keep Mike in the Christmas spirit. Whenever there are carolers outsider, wherever there's a holiday lights show, however many baubles they have to buy for their tree, Jamie's spirit never dies down, and he does his best to invigorate Mike with it too.
It works, to an extent. It certainly puts a smile on his face, but again, it's one of those halfhearted, reluctant smiles he puts on to make his old man happy – he's a good kid, but that's not what Jamie needs at this time.
A week before the big day, Jamie takes a disinclined Mike to buy the finishing touch of their tree, the star on top.
"What do you think of this one?"
"Yeah, it's okay."
"Actually, I like this one better," Jamie ponders over it, but turns to his son with two stars, one silver, one gold, "I'll let you decide." Mike shrugs indifferently.
"Dad, I don't really mind, they're both nice. You can pick."
"Well, I kind of like the silver one. It's bigger. Big enough to wear as a hat," Jamie snickers, only in an effort to make his son smile, "see?" He balances the star on his head and presents it Mike.
It draws a kind of embarrassed smile, but it's genuine.
"You're so lame, Dad." He doesn't say it with the same aversion as Alice, it's more affectionate. Suddenly his eyes go wide, and his expression falters. Jamie follows his gaze to see that somebody is standing behind them.
"Well, isn't this a surprise?"
It's Mike's headmistress – she's a stern lady who intimidates all her students, as well as their parents.
"Good evening, Miss." Mike says, and tugs on his father's coat from behind.
"Ah, Mike Bennett. And this must be your father, Mr. Bennett." She says, pushing her glasses up her nose. Jamie sticks out his hand.
"We haven't met, call me Jamie."
She surveys him up and down, shaking his hand with the tips of his fingers. She doesn't offer up a name, she doesn't question what they're up to, she simply peers at father and son over her tortoise-shell frames.
"So, are you here to do some last minute Christmas shopping?" Jamie offers tentatively. She just nods and gives them both a condescending sort of stare.
"Yes. I'm here with my husband, actually. He's unusually enthusiastic about Christmas. It's a little bizarre, but what can I do, really?"
Jamie laughs, awkwardly, to break the silence that follows – it's not like Mike is helping to move the conversation along.
"Well, it's great that he's enthusiastic. Who doesn't love the holiday season?" Jamie asks, grinning.
"I'm not particularly fond of it, to be honest. Everything's overly cheery and merry, and all I see around is reindeer and elves and Santa Claus. I certainly didn't celebrate it as a child, nor did I celebrate any of the ridiculous myths kids are encouraged to believe these days. Ridiculous."
Something inside him bubbles up in irritation. Jamie raises an eyebrow.
"Ridiculous?"
"Indeed. The mere idea of Santa –a fat man squeezing his way down children's chimneys in the middle of the night."
Jamie keeps his head leveled – for Mike's sake only – but he's certain that North wouldn't appreciate his guardianship being whittled down to such words. And neither does Jamie.
"Well, Miss, I disagree. He's a child's wonder. Surely someone so kind and giving cannot be ridiculous."
"Any child who believes in that legend, or any legend, is foolish, or had a foolish upbringing. He is just that, a legend." The headmistress looks Jamie up and down, her stare judgmental, "do you disagree with that as well?"
He hears Mike mutter softly beside him, "enough, Dad." But Jamie ignores him.
"If I did?"
He's met with a snort of disbelieving laughter from the headmistress, uncharacteristically loud and brash.
"You, a grown man, believes in such a tale, told to help little children sleep soundly at night?" she smirks, "I don't suppose you believe in the Tooth Fairy, and the Easter Bunny, and Jack Frost too now, do you?"
She means it as a joke, but has no idea how true her words ring. She notices this after Jamie doesn't answer; even she doesn't expect this.
"You can't be serious, Mr. Bennett."
Jamie takes a step towards her, but Mike grabs his arm and tugs him back.
"That's enough, Dad," he mutters under his breath, "stop right now. Before you make things worse."
So he controls the storm of words threatening to break loose and chains it down - for now.
But one look at his son after they walk away and Jamie knows that it was the wrong thing to do. So much for Christmas spirit.
Their drive home is mostly wordless. Mike throws a sideways glance at his father every now and then, but turns his head away when he looks back.
It's not until they get into the house that Jamie dares say anything. Jamie stands as he does every night, leaning against the frame of Mike's bedroom door.
"I'm sorry, Mike."
"Yeah."
"I didn't mean for it to happen, okay?"
"Of course not. Your precious guardians can't be touched by other mortal forces. Because you vowed to protect them, like they vowed to protect you, right?"
Mike's words sting with truth.
"I don't break my promises, Mike."
His son moans in frustration.
"I know you didn't mean anything bad, okay? I know that! But would it hurt to just hold off all this crazy magic stuff?"
"Crazy magic stuff? You think I would lie about something like that?"
Mike exhales sharply and rubs his bleary eyes.
"Dad, you're an adult. You're not supposed to believe in this stuff. It's supposed to all be kids play. All myths and legends."
"It was my entire childhood, it still is. I can't give that kind of thing up so easy, Mike."
"I know, Dad! I know!" Mike's sudden raise in temper startles Jamie, "it's just that sometimes I feel like you put this whole Santa and snow and fairy tales thing in front of everything else. It's like nothing else in the world matters. It's just you, and your precious guardians!"
"Hey, they're your guardians too, Mike."
"Dad, you don't get it!"
There's a crack in Mike's voice. He swallows, and it comes back scratchy and rough and filled with held tears.
"I don't need Santa, or the Tooth Fairy, or the Sandman, or the Easter Bunny, or Jack Frost! I already have you! You're my guardian! Isn't that enough?"
"We'll always be here, Jamie," Jack points at his heart and smiles, "which kind of makes you a guardian too."
He meets with Mike's softened glare and he knows there's truth in his son's words, because his guardian told him so, all those years ago. Jamie goes over to his son, and puts both hands on his shoulders.
"I love you, Mike. I love you, and your sister, and your mother more than anything in this world. You are the most important people in my life, and you will always come first. I promise you."
Mike averts his gaze for a few lingering moments, then make eye contact.
"You promise?"
"I never break a promise," he says gently with a smile, pats his son on the back and is halfway out the door when he hears –
"Hey, Dad." Mike asks. Jamie turns his head to look at him.
"Yeah, Mike?"
"You promise you'll always look after me, right, Dad? You'll always protect me."
Jamie closes his eyes at the familiar words that came to him in a dream.
"You'll always look after me, right, Jack? You'll always protect me?"
"Always."
A/N: Thanks so much for all the favourites/follows/reviews so far - they make me very happy. So, two parts down, one to go. Thanks for reading!