Chapter 8


Lying in his back with the bed curtains still drawn, Mycroft stared up at the ceiling. Taking short deep breathes, Mycroft tried to calm himself. Sentiment, what a disgusting word. His past was full of it; sitting next to his mother, listing to her as she took her final breathes. Belle, her name alone was a reminder of what sentiment could do. It was powerful enough to become a weakness.

As he lay there he heard the bell began to ring. As the chiming sound rang through the night air, Mycroft felt his heart skip a beat. His whole body seem to freeze at the sound, waiting for the next ghost. A sliver of hope felt through him as the thought of the whole experience being a dream. The old memories of his past still lingered in his mind, made fresh and clear from his recent visit.

As the bell finished ringing Mycroft steeled his nerves. He was not about to be scared out of his wits as he was the first spirit. Should another ghost come he was going to be ready for it. He sat up and tried to appear calm and cool as possible. Whatever was about to happen, he was going to be ready for it.

When five minutes came and past Mycroft grew irritated, he couldn't stand people being late. Now some ghost who was suppose to break into his house and most likely make him get out of bed, at this hour, was making him wait?! The nerve!

Ten minutes, fifteen minutes, twenty minutes, finally a single ring rang out singling that it had been a half-hour. Mycroft was beginning to think that he had imagined the whole thing and should call upon a doctor in the morning. Honestly, how foolish must he look? Sitting up in his bed, nerves steeled as if he were waiting for some war? Armed in his night clothes and night cap? How he must look!

Anger at himself for beginning so easily fooled, Mycroft decided to end this for once and all! He was going to open his bed curtain and prove to himself that all was well and that he had dreamed up the entire thing. As his hand gripped onto the curtain he pulled it back with such a force he surprised himself that it did not fall.

The moment the curtains flew open, a blinding light came upon Mycroft and caused him to screw his eyes shut and turn away.

The light began to fade away and Mycroft blink and at the same time felt his stomach growl. His bedroom had completely transformed. His cold gray walls were now decorated in red and green, wreaths and bows covered the room, and a large Christmas tree now stood in the room. But what caught Mycroft full attention was the large Christmas feast which smelled warm and heavenly.

"Come in!" A deep yet merry voice cried. "Come in, and know me better man!"

Mycroft left his bed in an almost shyly motion. The spirit which was now seated in his room seem to be glowing, which was odd that Mycroft noticed this first seeming as the spirit was also a giant who strangely resembled St. Nickolas, better known as Santa Claus.

"I am the Ghost of Christmas Present!" The ghost was dressed in a green robe bordered with white fur. His clothes hung so loosely on him, that his chest was opening bare, covered in gray curls. His feet were left naked, with no shoes nor socks to cover them. On his head he wore a green holly wreath, decorated with ice crystals. He wore his dark curls wild and long. Although his voice was deep and rumbling, it was merry and the air around him seem to lighter as well.

The spirit took in the look of awe clearly written across Mycroft's face. "Have you never seen the likes of me before?"

"No," Exclaimed Mycroft. "Never!"

"You've never seen my other brothers? For I have many and I am but very young in comparison to them!"

"No...I'm afraid I haven't had the pleasure. Have many brothers do you, if you don't mind my answer?"

"More than twenty hundred!" Said the Ghost merrily.

"...Imagine the shopping list." Mycroft muttered to himself. As Mycroft said this, the Ghost of Christmas Present began to rise.

"Come, touch my robe."

Mycroft did as he was told and held on fast.

Suddenly the whole room vanished. The wreaths, the bows, the tree...the food. The room as well vanished too; Mycroft looked around and found themselves on the streets of London. It was around early morning, as the sun had begun to rise. It was Christmas morning, where the people made a rough, but brisk and not unpleasant kind of music, in scraping the snow from the pavement in front of their homes, and from the tops of their houses, and gave delight to the children to see it come plumping down into the road below, and splitting into artificial little snow-storms.

Even though they were outside in the freezing cold on this joyous morning, working rather than warming themselves by a warm or in the company of their families, each and everyone seem to have a smile alight on their faces. Their cheerfulness could not be put out by any cold winds or freezing snow, but rather seem to grow as the small flurries fell from the sky.

As they shoveled they would greet each other with warm smiles that were specially reserved for Christmas Day alone. One could hear the joy and glee that bathed itself in their welcome of the Christmas day.

The scene soon vanished and Mycroft found himself standing in front of a small flat. There was nothing out of the ordinary about this flat, nothing that would give away who lived here. The flat door opened and a kind older woman stepped out and received that mail from the previous day. As she did this she looked up and raised her hand in greeting towards someone riding down the street on a new bike. A 'Merry Christmas!' rang out and was answered with back by the person on the bike saying the same.

Mycroft suddenly found himself inside the flat in the middle of the living room.

"Mum, close the door! You're letting all the warm air out!"

Mycroft recognized the voice immediately; it was the voice of his loyal PA.

"Lighten up darling! It's Christmas Day! There's nothing to be sour about!"

An older man wearing antlers and holding two mugs came out and placed a kiss on 'Anthea's' cheek. "Morning dad! Sleep well?"

'Anthea' was still in her sleeping clothes covering herself only with a dark bathrobe and fuzzy slippers. Her hair was down and unbrushed, looking like teenager who just rolled out of bed. Mycroft almost didn't recognize her, with her blackberry obviously in the pocket of her bathrobe, she looked nothing like the PA who was always at his beck and call.

"Breakfast is almost ready dear; well don't you and your dad get started with the stocking?" 'Anthea's' mother called from the kitchen.

"Oi! None of that mum! We aren't starting without you! Plus, Walter's not here yet and he was well pissed last year when we started without him! Give him five more minutes mum!"

As Mycroft looked around the room he saw a picture of 'Anthea' and her parents and a young man standing in front of a Christmas tree. The picture was obviously taken a few years back, as 'Anthea's' hair was shorter. Walter must have been young man in the picture, and going by his nose and ears he was her brother. Most likely away at college, being supported not only by the part time job he had (Obvious, going by his right hand he is a cook for a local restaurant) but also by the family.

By the picture alone Mycroft deduced he was studying the law and was aspiring to become a lawyer. Although he obviously hated taking money from his family but, going by his clothes, he needed it. There was no way he was going to be able to repay his debts without it. He was only in his second year and had at least two more.

A familiar smell of roasted turkey caught Mycroft's attention. Turning to the kitchen, he saw 'Anthea's' mother put a small, almost duck size, turkey into the oven. Mycroft frowned, why did they have so little? The flat was nothing impressive, something someone in the lower middle class would be able to afford. The Christmas tree was plastic, and the food being cook was hardly enough to feed them. Mycroft knew how much 'Anthea' was being paid, surely she could afford better than this?

Oh.

An empty beer bottle came into Mycroft's sight. It was on the coffee table in the living room, and going by the stained rings under it, there had been many others there before it. And there, on the wall going up the stairs, there was a line of picture frames of people who varied of shape and size. From same infants to an elderly couple, these were obviously there extended family.

"Is anyone staying with us this Christmas?" 'Anthea' asked as she flipped through the channels on the telly.

"Yes, unfortunately your Aunt and Uncle Luci got evicted from their apartment and need a place to stay."

A scowl came from 'Anthea'. "But mum, that'll mean Alex and Henry will be staying here as well!"

"And we will happily welcome them." 'Anthea's' father spoke. I know they bother you, sweetheart. But you know every well that if we were in their situation they would welcome us into their home. Me and your mother will try and kept them out of your way, but we all need to cooperate. Understand dear?"

Mycroft had a feeling that this was not the first time they had supported another family member. What Mycroft couldn't understand was why 'Anthea' didn't leave? She made enough money to buy her own place, her parents were old enough to go to a nursing home, or she could right out confront her father about his drinking problem and tell him to get a job and support him and his wife. With a second job Walter could surely support himself. And their families problem were not their problems, there were certainly other places, like motels, their Aunt and Uncle could stay.

"She stays because it is what she feels as right." It was the first time the spirit had spoken since they left Mycroft's house.

"This was the house she grew up in; it would pain her to leave it. She has also already confronted her father, but his addiction has been going on for well over ten years now, they all know it will be a slow and long process, but he is taking steps, they may be the first ones, but they are steps. Walter has had anxiety problems since he was a child. For him to leave and go to college and get a job are huge steps for him. A second job would only make him worse. I do not expect you to understand why they help their family, when you turned your own away."

"But her life could be so much better. She has let sentiment get in the way and now look where she is!" Mycroft all but yelled aloud.

"And is it truly such a bad thing? She has the same roof that has been over her head her whole life. She had a loving mother and father who care for her just as much as she cares for them. She has a family who will share their homes with her, so why is it wrong that she willingly opens her arms for them? When with all her problems, she has one thing that you do not."

"Oh, and what might that be? Happiness?! I am perfectly happy the way I am!"

"She has love."

The spirit's answer caught Mycroft by surprise. According to his brother, love is a chemical defect found on the losing side, and Mycroft couldn't agree more with him. Mycroft had learned this the hard way, love took everything, it was greedy and was never satisfied until it had consumed everything and then left you to grieve alone and in the dark.

"She is reassured almost daily that her family loves her. Not just in words alone, but also in their actions. They understand way she is away so much, they understand why she does what she does. And in the same way she understands they have their own lives as well and cannot she must face the world alone sometimes. She does not blame them or condemn them, instead she tried to see things from their point of view, and in turn they do the same for her.

"Love is both give and take. It feeds off from one another and sees to satisfy each other. When both people love each other and see to each other's needs, they both find themselves even more in love and wanting even more of each other. How can they not? When you find something that pleases you, how can you not wrap yourself in it? When you have a loving family, why is it wrong to want to surround yourself with them? When you find someone you love, why is it wrong to want to be around them all the time?

It isn't, but when we don't understand, when we take and confuse it with giving, when we lost ourselves, that is when she misinterpret love, and find ourselves hating it."

Mycroft could not help himself; a swelling feeling in his chest began to spread. A want, no, a need to have this consumed him. A desire to have what 'Anthea' has, a desire to be surrounded by love filled him. He could not stop the spread of joy and happiness in himself when 'Anthea' stood and welcomed her brother with a hugged and kissed his cheek.

His smile grew even brighter when 'Anthea's' Aunt, Uncle and cousins arrived and they welcomed each other with cheer and warm smiles upon their faces. The scenes seem to glow and Mycroft could practically feel the warmth from their happiness come beaming from deep within their hearts.

That was when Mycroft turned to the spirit. "Take me to see my kin; I want to see my family."