Christmas in Blüdhaven: And To All A Good Night
by Smitty
Tim Drake turned the wooden box in his hands. The gifts he'd bought for everyone else were under the tree, along with all their presents to him and to each other. It was a mockery of Christmas but he couldn't fault them for trying.
Someone knocked on the door.
"Come in," Tim called hollowly, setting the wooden box in his hands.
"Hey." Kon-El poked his head into the room. "I know you're having a private thing here, but can I come in?"
Tim nodded.
"Thanks. Hey. That was for...her, wasn't it?"
"Yeah," Tim admitted. "Steph."
"Yeah. Look. I don't want to do the whole, 'I know how you feel' thing because it sucks when people do that. But. Hey." Kon dropped something on top of the box.
Tim looked down. It was a picture of Kon and Tana Moon.
"Do you still miss her?" Tim asked.
"Yeah. I mean, I've moved on and all, but...yeah. 'Specially times like this."
Tim heard footsteps in the door and looked up. Cass was standing just over the threshold looking unbearably sad.
"She was my friend," she said, holding out a white cloth.
Tim didn't recognize it at first, but then realized it was the tear-stained handkerchief Alfred had given her for Stephanie's funeral. He reached out and she walked across the room and handed it to him. He slid the top of the box open and put the picture and the handkerchief inside.
"You want to put this in there, too?" Barbara's voice asked. She wheeled herself over to him and passed over a gold disk. "It was my last gymnastics medal," she explained before he had to ask.
It thumped quietly in the wooden box.
"Got room for one more?" Dick asked from the doorway.
Tim looked up in askance.
"Part of my circus costume," Dick said ruefully. "Looks a little small now, doesn't it?" It did, a scrap of red in his hand. It went in the box with everything else and Tim looked at their collected mementos before sliding the top shut.
"What do you say we go have Christmas?" Kon asked, standing up and dusting his hands together.
"Babs cooked," Dick added, waggling his eyebrows.
"I'm there," Tim told them.
He watched his friends file out of his room and then smiled as Cass popped her head back in.
"Bring box," she said.
He did, and followed her out to the room where the Christmas tree was set up. It twinkled and sparkled with lights and tinsel, and a dozen balls Dick had picked up somewhere.
She paused in front of the mantel, looking at him expectantly. He nodded and set the box in its place of honor.
"There's cranberry sauce," Cass said.
Tim raised an eyebrow. "And stuffing?"
"Yes. But cranberry sauce is better."
"Is not." He threw his arm around her shoulders and squeezed.
"Is too."
Tim dared one last glance back at the mantel. Their grief -- all their grief -- could wait 'til after Christmas.
Author's Note: You may have noticed that this is not 200 words. It actually is 500. I wasn't happy trying to close in 200 words so I went over. Forgive me? Also, thank you to everyone who read and/or reviewed during this month. I know I didn't get a chance to respond to most of you, but please believe that I appreciate each and every comment.
Christmas in Blüdhaven is written in the same general style as Jingle Bells, my attempt to write 24 200-word ficlets--one per day until Christmas, sort of like an Advent calendar--with characters from around the DCU. Christmas in Blüdhaven differs, however, by each of the ficlets being loosely linked and progressing toward a greater conclusion. The title was derived from the Trans-Siberian Orchestra's "Christmas in Sarajevo" because everything and everyone in Blüdhaven is currently something of a wreck.