Chapter 2: Christmas Present

Notes: I had no idea that I hadn't uploaded this chapter. Now that I've checked, I remember finishing this in the beginning of the year when I didn't have the internet. Thanks for the reviews you guys have left so far, sorry it's taken so long to upload the next chapter. Also, there is an automated archive purely for Ducks fics at queertet dot net – just a little bit of site pimping – I'm begging you guys to upload your fics there too.

Charlie blinked a couple of times, realising that he was standing in his bedroom once more. Alone. Terri – whether she had been a dream, a ghost or a hallucination – was gone.

He sank down on his bed, emotionally raw from the wash of memories that she had shown him. He rubbed his eyes tiredly. What he wouldn't give for a drink to numb the pain…

"No," he said aloud, his voice breaking the silence and almost making himself jump.

"No, what, Charlie?" a Scandinavian voice asked.

Charlie shuddered in recognition. "Hans?"

Hans stepped out from the shadows, into the light from the window. "Hello, Charlie." He smiled. It was a kind and understanding smile, it was one that Charlie had always thought was reserved for himself and Bombay alone.

"Hello, Hans." At this point, Charlie was becoming accustomed to seeing dead people. "Are you here to show me more horrible things? Because I really doubt you can top Terri's. That girl went all out."

"I see your attitude has gone somewhat downhill. You remind me of Gordon – before he remembered how to fly."

"Gee, thanks, Hans," Charlie replied.

Hans ignored his tone. "Obviously conversation will not help, perhaps a visual aid?" He reached out and touched Charlie's shoulder and Charlie resigned himself to the falling sensation.

When the vertigo and light spots subsided, Charlie realised the he was in his own living room. "We couldn't have walked?" he muttered grouchily.

"Watch," Hans instructed.

"Gosh, hadn't thought of that."

"Charlie!" Hans snapped sharply.

Charlie was awash with shame, he had never been so disrespectful to Hans – who had always been their mentor, Charlie's especially – and now that he was deceased, it seemed worse. "I'm sorry, it's just been a long night and I just wanted to process what Terri showed me and think about things. This is a bad night, couldn't you come back tomorrow?"

"How can you learn if you leave halfway through the lesson?" Hans asked.

Charlie sighed and turned his attention to the scene at hand. Yet again, he was on the sofa, barely awake, his bottle still in his hand, though the contents were spilled all over his lap – Charlie realised both versions of himself were wearing the same clothes, though the Charlie on the couch looked even more unappealing, his clothes disgustingly rumpled, his hair mussed, his face blotchy from sleep and alcohol.

"It's tomorrow, isn't it?"

"It is," Hans agreed.

"Charlie!" Adam strode happily into the living room, his voice rousing the hungover Charlie slightly. "Hey, Charlie, Happy Christmas."

Charlie grunted something in response, but Adam never faltered. As was customary, he took a seat on the coffee table, opposite Charlie and produced a gift from behind his back. "Present," he said encouragingly.

Charlie grunted again but reached for it.

Sober Charlie turned to Hans, "I haven't even bought Adam anything," he whispered in shame.

"I don't think he expects anything." Whether Hans was complimenting Adam's giving nature or insulting Charlie's selfish one was difficult to determine.

Charlie turned back to the scene in front of him, moving closer to get a good look as his other self unwrapped the gift. It was only small, but carefully wrapped. Adam was precise when it came to gift-wrapping. In happier times, Charlie would go Christmas shopping with Adam, then the two would go back to their dorms, where Adam would wrap all the presents, constantly complimenting Charlie on his ability to dispense tape and "hold this here" on command. Charlie couldn't remember the last time he had been Adam's "Second in Command of Operation Giftwrap" as he had called it.

"What the hell is this?" drunken Charlie spat out, gazing at a slim but heavy metal oblong. On closer inspection, Charlie realised it was a framed picture that had been taken at the Christmas party. The last party that Terri and Annie had ever been to. In the picture, Charlie, Adam and Luis stood laughing together, their arms around Terri, Lisa and Annie respectively.

Charlie also realised that it had been the last party Adam had attended with Lisa. He had finished with her in order to spend more time with Charlie to help him through the grieving process.

"Is this a reminder? A warning? A threat?" Charlie yelled venomously. "Another damned reminder that I screwed up and you didn't? Well bully for you! Thank you, Adam! You're so damned perfect, I wish I could be you!" He wound up and hurled the picture across the room with all of his might. The metal frame buckled and the glass shattered against the wall.

"Charlie…" Adam had got to his feet and backed away in alarm, holding his hands up in a surrendering gesture. "I didn't–"

"Sure you didn't!" Charlie yelled. "I bet you and your buddies from the team thought this up! Let's get at Charlie because he screwed up the game last night!"

"Charlie, calm down," Adam began in a placating tone. "I really – I just thought you'd never seen the picture before…"

"And heaven forbid I forget what I did!" Charlie grabbed the empty Jack Daniels bottle and threw it at Adam. Adam's lightning reflexes were all that saved him from an unpleasant trip to the Emergency Room, he ducked and it shattered on the wall behind him. "What on earth would happen if for just one second I could forget what I did to them? We gotta ram it down my throat all the time!" he raged as he advanced on Adam. "I can't ever forget, because then I might be as good as you."

Present-day Charlie shuddered in horror. "Adam never talks about it… why am I saying all this?"

"Ten years of alcohol, mixed with ten years of bitterness, pain and resentment… it's never a good combination," Hans pointed out. "Especially for those who live with you."

The drunken Charlie had now grabbed Adam by his shirt and was screaming incoherent threats and abuse in his face, while Adam had his hands on Charlie's shoulders, apologising in a calming tone, hoping to soothe his anger, but Charlie was having none of it. He brought his fist back and slammed it into Adam's face at full force. Adam fell to the ground, Charlie gave him one final look of disgust before storming out of the apartment, without a word of apology.

"No, I didn't… I wouldn't…" Charlie gasped.

"Really?" Hans asked neutrally.

"This is just a dream," Charlie decided, though his voice lacked conviction.

"In that case," Hans replied, "you won't mind a trip to another household on this festive day?" And before Charlie could object Hans reached out and touched his shoulder.

Charlie was relieved to see that he was now in the kitchen of the Bombay household, where he had no plans to be for Christmas. Surely there would be nothing horrible to see here? Just his mother and Gordon having a cosy Christmas together. Gordon was setting the table, when Casey came in wearing a pretty dress.

"Did I hear the phone ring while I was in the shower?" she asked hopefully.

"It was just a wrong number." Bombay replied, but on seeing his wife's face fall, he quickly added. "But then Charlie called right after. He said to tell you he loves you and he's thinking of coming home when the season finishes so he can spend some time with you." Despite his legal background, lying was obviously an ability that Gordon had lost somewhere along the way.

"In case you don't remember," Hans said. "Gordon called you yesterday to remind you to call your mother. I won't repeat your exact wording, but you told him that you didn't want advice from a drunk driver, then you hung up."

Charlie hung his head in shame, he had no recollection of the phone call at all. He remembered getting home and needing a drink, and that was it.

"Why didn't you come and fetch me?" Casey asked accusingly. "I swear…" She stopped herself and took a deep breath.

"I'm sorry, Casey, but he said that the rest of the team were queuing to use the phone – it's tradition for all the bachelors to have Christmas together," Bombay replied after a moment's thought.

"You forgot to come and get me when he called last time," she said bitterly. "And the time before that."

"I didn't want to tie up the line, long distance phone calls don't come cheap."

"For God's sake! He plays professional hockey!" she snapped. "He can afford it. I swear that sometimes you're jealous of my son!"

"Casey!" Bombay looked stricken. "You know that's not true! I think of Charlie as my own son!"

"Maybe you did once, but now?" She laughed bitterly. "You never pass on messages, you forget to invite him to stay – and then you lost the Christmas card he sent this year!"

As the argument escalated and tempers rose, Hans turned to Charlie. "In case your drunken mind has blurred your memory, you've not called your mother since April – you've not called her sober for about three years. And the card Gordon 'lost' does not exist."

Words failed Charlie. Was he really that bad? It was horrible seeing himself this way. He had no idea what he might have said to his family, but dimly remembered that he had spent a night hating Bombay because he had once driven drunk – once – Charlie didn't realise that this hatred may have come back every single time he got drunk. He honestly couldn't remember the last time that he had called his mother, but surely it couldn't have been as long as eight months ago?

Tears were now flowing freely down his mother's face, as she hurled out bitter accusations that Gordon ruined her relationship with her son. "Sometimes I think marrying you was the worst mistake I ever made!" she choked out, before running out of the kitchen and slamming the door so hard a picture fell off the wall and shattered.

Gordon blinked a couple of times, wiping his eyes to catch the tears before they fell. "Why do I cover for you, Charlie?" he murmured softly.

"Time to go," Hans said, touching his shoulder.

The next scene was back at Charlie's apartment, and judging by Adam's budding black eye, it was still Christmas day, and not long after Charlie had stormed out. The broken bottle and smashed picture frame had been cleared up, now Adam was sitting on the sofa, a dazed look on his face, as he stared at the now torn and crumpled picture.

"He gave up Lisa for me, then I chased Emma away from him," Charlie mused. "Now I've hit him. What more can I do before he leaves?"

"That I do not know," Hans replied. "But I believe your question will be answered before the night is through."

Charlie's question had actually been rhetorical, he couldn't believe – or didn't want to – that he could do something so awful to Adam to make him leave, seeing what he had already done was horrific enough.

A knock at the door roused Adam from his daze, he pasted a smile on his face and ran his hands through his hair, obviously distressed that it wasn't long enough to cover his swelling eye.

Adam opened the door and was instantly barrelled into by a four year old brown-haired piece of fluff, who cheerfully announced, "I need to pee!" before she rushed off in search of a bathroom.

He was then greeted in a more sedate fashion by the owners of the piece of fluff, Connie and Guy. "I see she inherited your shyness," Adam commented to Guy.

"Cassie has as much dignity as Connie did at that age," Guy responded proudly, giving Adam a hug.

"Hey, Cake Eater." Connie elbowed her husband out of the way to give Adam a one-armed hug. "We brought wine." She brandished a bottle with a free hand. "It's non-alcoholic."

Adam gave her an enquiring look, but Guy shook his head. "Where's Charlie? We'll wait for him."

Adam smiled brightly as he ushered his friends into the living room. "You know, I think he got lucky. We were out last night and he met this really pretty girl, and this morning when I got up there was a message on the answer phone saying he was hanging out with her, but he'd try to be back as soon as he could."

From the looks on their faces, they didn't believe a word. "Well," Guy said finally. "I suppose it's a good thing. He hasn't done much dating recently, has he?"

Connie said nothing, obviously reining in a biting comment about Charlie's life.

"What happened to your face, man?" Guy asked.

"Oh this?" Adam touched his face. "To be honest, I have no idea, I went out drinking with the team last night."

"Looks new," Guy commented.

Adam floundered momentarily. "Well, I was just getting to that part, I was feeling quite groggy this morning, I'm not quite sure what I did wrong, but I was trying to get the coffee out of the cupboard and boom! Next thing I know I'm on the floor holding my eye."

Guy raised an eyebrow, but made no further comment. "Well," he said abruptly, "I suppose that since it's possible we might not see Charlie today, we may as well tell you our good news." He turned to his wife.

"Good news?" Connie replied with a big smile. "I treble in size and can't drink, play hockey or dance all night for nine months, and that's good news?"

"You're pregnant?" Adam asked.

Charlie turned to Hans. "That's great news. They've been trying ever since they had Cassie. I remember Adam telling me how upset they were getting because they couldn't conceive again." He then remembered that he'd made no attempt to call either of them to offer his support. He turned back to the scene when it became apparent that Hans was not going to reply.

"And we want you to be the godfather," Guy added, smiling at Adam.

"Wow. You're trusting me with this again? I'm stunned," Adam said. "I'm sure Charlie will be thrilled too. This might be just what he needs to help him find a new perspective."

Instantly the atmosphere changed. Connie and Guy exchanged nervous looks. Finally, as was customary for most minor disputes, Connie took the lead. "Um… actually, we just meant you. Charlie…"

"Charlie really hasn't been quite the godparent we hoped he would be," Guy continued. "While it's true that Cassie adores him, Charlie is very rarely around."

"Adam, he turned up drunk to Cassie's christening," Connie pointed out.

Charlie winced. He didn't even remember Cassie's christening, much less whether he was drunk or sober.

"Adam, surely you see that Charlie's getting worse?" she continued. "I know he lost his girlfriend, but that was years ago. I don't mean to sound heartless, but he's had plenty of time to deal with it and move on, Luis has. He loved Annie, but he's not trying to drink himself to death. Charlie's been offered counselling, Bombay offered to take him away for a few months to do cold turkey away from here, everyone who knows him has tried to help, and I don't doubt for one second that you have tried your damnedest to clean him up, all to no avail. We don't see him often, but we can see it. Surely you can too?"

Adam stayed quiet for the longest time. Finally he spoke. "I do understand what you're saying. I can't fault your reasoning, you have a life to protect – and a godparent should do the same, and I can see that Charlie is not very responsible in his own life, let alone someone else's. I understand and respect your decision… but at the same time, I can't be a godparent to your child. Not without Charlie. So thank you very much for asking me, but I regretfully decline."

"I get it," Connie said in a tight voice. "We have to tip-toe around Charlie, we can't upset him, we have to treat him like he's the only one that matters. Fine. Have it your way. Put your life on hold because that stupid drunk is unwilling to live his!"

Guy slipped an arm around Connie and gave her a warning look. "Cons, he has to live with the guy."

Charlie felt a lump form in his throat. These were his oldest friends. He'd known Connie and Guy all of his life, and they were talking about him as if he was an anvil around Adam's neck. Something horrible they had to tolerate to have Adam in their lives. What hurt the most was that they had reason to. Charlie was seeing himself clearly for the first time since the Christmas he wrapped Adam's car around a tree. He was a shell of his former self, his behaviour was disgusting and shocking.

"It's not that I'm scared of him," Adam burst out looking both hurt and offended. "Charlie's not had a good life, he never got over Terri, I'm the first to admit that, but he's never felt like he belonged since then. He's had to fight a little harder just to keep himself ticking over normally. He feels like everyone hates him because of what happened. You said Luis got over Annie, maybe it was just a little easier for him, because he wasn't in the car. He wasn't driving the car. Charlie feels that he killed not only his own girlfriend, but Luis' too. Maybe his guilt is irrational, maybe it's lingered far too long, but that's how it is for him. He's clinically depressed, whether he admits it or not. I'm not afraid of him, it's not about that. I just can't take anything new from him, because he's already lost everything else."

"And whose fault is that?" Connie snapped back. "Maybe if he put down that god-damned bottle for a few months, he'd get back a few things he's lost along the way."

"Did you know that depression is an illness?" Adam asked. "It's not just a state of mind, it's an illness – and like any illness, it has symptoms and side-effects. One of the symptoms can be obsessive or repetitive behaviour. I know, because I was depressed when I was eleven, my father was pushing me way too hard with hockey and school and everything else. I had this one movie that I had to watch every night, I had to start watching at exactly eight pm otherwise I couldn't watch it at all. If I didn't get to watch it, I'd panic and have anxiety attacks. But if I did watch it, I felt better, more in control. That's how Charlie feels about drinking, I know as well as you do that it's killing him, but I know how he would feel about not drinking, because I felt the same way about not watching that movie."

"Watching a movie doesn't make you aggressive, offensive, and quite frankly dangerous. Neither does it rot your liver and beat the living crap out of your kidneys!" Connie remarked.

"I'm aware of that," Adam replied, his voice tight and low, and Charlie recognised the tone. Adam was absolutely livid, however, he'd been brought up far too well to unleash the way Charlie would. Instead he would become more polite and his tone would be carefully measured. "I know Charlie's killing himself. I know, ok? I'm just telling you how he feels."

"I think," Connie decided, "that I've wasted far too much time already caring how Charlie feels. He's not even here and he's ruined Christmas."

Her words hit Charlie like a slap in the face. He was destroying lives, not just his own but everyone's around him. His mother's marriage to Bombay seemed to be hanging by a thread, Charlie's inability to be even a halfway-decent son was driving a wedge between them. His inability to function as a normal human being was alienating him from his friends, and the only person standing by him was Adam, the one he seemed to hurt the most. Sooner or later Adam would leave him too – deservedly so – would Adam be alone too when that happened? Would people have given up on him by then because he couldn't walk away from Charlie?

"What can I do?" he said helplessly, turning to Hans. "How can I make this all better? I've gone too far for 'I'm sorry' to even begin to help."

"You'd be surprised," Hans replied. "Those two words, when unheard for so long, can work wonders. They can set you on the path to redemption, though I don't doubt it will be a long and tiring journey for you."

Charlie hung his head. "I deserve that."

At that point, the Christmas Day version of Charlie stumbled through the door, muttering something about his wallet.

"Hey, Charlie," Adam said, his tone light and friendly with no evidence that only a few hours before Charlie had hurt him.

Charlie made no answer, he didn't even look at him.

"Connie and Guy are here, Cassie too."

"Whoopie-doo. Some Duckies and their little kid. Yay," Charlie responded, pulling a face. He paused, glancing at Connie. "Wow, Cons, you're really piling on the weight. Married life getting you down?"

Connie's volatile and well-documented defensive nature reached boiling point. "Actually, Charlie, married life is as wonderful as ever – not that you'd know what wonderful feels like. And unlike you, if things do get bad, I don't feel the need to throw myself a pity-party with Jack Daniels as the guest of honour."

Charlie rolled his eyes. "Oh good, we're talking about that again. You losers. I don't have a problem, ok? You're just jealous because I'm a professional hockey player and your dreams got cut short because you were dumb enough to get knocked up ten seconds after leaving school."

Present Day Charlie turned to Hans. "Please, make it stop. I don't want to see any more, I know that I'm a bad person."

Hans gave Charlie and appraising look. "Do you think you're being punished, Charlie? You're not. You're being given a second chance."

"But it hurts." Charlie realised that he was crying.

"Yes, it probably does," Hans agreed. "But this is just one night, how do you think your friends feel?"

Charlie turned back to the scene in front of him. Connie and Charlie were fighting tooth and nail. Charlie was reminding Connie of the time she found out she was pregnant with Cassie, her fear that it would ruin her life and the agonising process of deciding whether or not to keep the baby. Connie was simply listing every time Charlie had done something unacceptable, it was an extensive list. Adam and Guy tried to intervene but were getting nowhere.

What stopped the argument was the appearance of four year-old Cassie. "Why are you shouting? Didn't Santa leave you the right presents? Are you cross?" She gazed at Charlie, a look of fierce adoration on her face. "Because if you don't like yours, you can have mine."

"We're not cross, sweetheart," Connie said, moving towards her daughter. "We were just talking loudly."

"Yep, we were just talking about how much your Mom didn't want you. She wanted to be famous, then she got saddled with you and you ruined her life," Charlie said spitefully. "And don't worry about gifts from Santa, he's a lie too. He doesn't exist, your parents lie to you."

Cassie's lip quivered, then she burst into loud pitiful tears. Connie rushed to her daughter and scooped her up for a hug that would start the extensive comfort needed to make things right. She began murmuring that Charlie was just teasing, that everyone loved and wanted Cassie, that Santa did exist, that everything was ok.

"Great," Charlie sneered. "More noise." He walked past his screaming goddaughter into his room.

Guy took a deep breath. "Adam, it has been momentarily wonderful seeing you, but Connie and I will not be coming back here. You will always be welcome in our home – but not with Charlie. Come on, Cons." He put his arm around his wife, patted his crying daughter's back, then escorted them from the apartment.

Adam's mouth worked soundlessly, obviously still trying to apologise for Charlie's behaviour despite the fact his guests had left. Finally he gave up and sank to the floor, tears flowing down his face.

Charlie was disgusted with himself. Was he really so far gone on alcohol that in a few short hours he could wreck a child's life by making her feel unwanted and robbing her of the magic of believing in Santa Claus? He had not only lost his oldest friends, but he had pushed them away from Adam who, seemingly, was still willing to stand by Charlie.

What was wrong with him? Adam was his best friend, Cassie was his goddaughter, and Connie and Guy were two people he had known all of his life, they were his family, and he was ruining their lives. They had done nothing but support him and care for him, even at his worst, and even so, he gave no thought to their feelings. He was too busy wallowing in self-pity over the loss of Terri, and too busy drinking himself to death, as a way to join her.

"I feel sick," Charlie said faintly.

"That will be the alcohol," Hans replied.

"No, it's not that."

"No?"

"I hate what I've become. Just looking at how I behave makes me sick. I don't deserve my friends. I don't deserve to have Adam in my life."

Hans nodded, which made Charlie feel worse. It was all true, there were no comforting words from Hans. In the past, Hans always had some wisdom to impart, some way of resolving the situation, now there was nothing.

"Hans, did I die of alcohol poisoning? Am I in hell?"

Hans laughed. "That's one way of looking at it." His face softened when he saw Charlie's look of alarm. "But no, Charlie, you are still alive – whether you like it or not."

Charlie felt a stab of relief. Maybe he didn't like his life, maybe he would rather be with Terri, maybe he really was nothing, but he couldn't leave his life without trying to make peace with his friends.

Hans reached out and touched his shoulder, Charlie closed his eyes and when he opened them, he was back in his own room. "It's not over, is it?" he asked with trepidation. "There's more?"

Hans nodded serenely. "One final lesson. But not from me. Goodbye, Charlie."

"Goodbye, Hans."