DING-A-LING

The happy tingling of the bell was in sharp contrast to Oliver's sour mood. He had managed to find a pawnshop that was willing to trade for the bracelet, no questions asked, but the owner was willing to pay much less than he had hoped for. After one too many failed attempts at haggling that only resulted in a threat to throw him out into the street, he eventually conceded to the original price the greasy merchant had proposed.

With the sun setting at his back, Oliver wandered through the streets with the bundle of clothing held to his chest. He couldn't help but continue to glance down at the clothing in an attempt to allay his irrational fear that they were going to disappear at any moment. But he found the more that he stared at the clothes, the more difficult it became to push away the emotion that was bubbling up from the pit of his stomach.

It was guilt; bitter and burning guilt.

Try as he might, all he could see when he looked at the clothing was the smiling, overly-trusting face of Ann. She was the one that had allowed him to escape with the clothing; she could have easily turned him in to face whatever punishment was deemed fit for a child that stole from a church. But instead, she had helped him for no reason that Oliver could discern.

…you're a fan of music, right? Well as you heard, Al and I are performing for the church's Christmas Eve service tonight, you should come.

Unbidden, Ann's words returned to his mind and Oliver felt a burning desire to take her up on her offer. Seeing the towering organ had stirred his latent love of music. It felt somewhere deep inside he was obligated to go see the show tonight.

Quickly pushing the thoughts away, Oliver once more buried his love and desire for music. But with his mind now cleared, his thoughts settled on another topic he tried to avoid as much as possible; all the people he had stolen from.

He had stolen before, he had stolen from many people before, he had stolen from people who were in more desperate situations than Ann and those that we more disgustingly trusting. But somehow, stealing from her and feeling the bulk of the money is his pocket bang lightly against his leg, he couldn't help but feel guilt trill through him.

With a growl of frustration and a furious shake of his head, Oliver did his best to shake off both the lingering feelings and memories, but the specter continued to hover at the corner of his thoughts. He quickened his steps in order to reach the dilapidated building he called home. He hopped that by reaching home, he would be able to focus on other things.

Like finding the right way to apologize for losing my temper this morning… Oliver thought bitterly as he finally arrived in the back alley that housed the dilapidated building. With a heavy heart, he walked down the small, winding path that lead to the front door and gave a soft rap on the front door.

There was a moment of heavy silence as Oliver shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. He wanted the door to open, but he dreaded it at the same time; he had never been particularly good at making apologies.

"…What's the password?"

The voice was so quiet that Oliver wasn't sure at first that it existed at all, but he replied all the same.

"This is the home of Yuki, Ryuto and Oliver. No one else is allowed in," Oliver replied under his breath. Every time he spoke the password, he couldn't help but feel both childish and silly, but there was no way he could ask to change it. Ryuto and Yuki had spent three days dreaming up what they thought would be the perfect password.

Oliver's moment of nostalgia was broken by the sound of the door creaking open slowly. As Oliver stepped inside and gently closed the door behind him, he became aware of the small presence that stood not far off. When he turned to look, Ryuto was staring intently at his foot that he was grinding into the floor.

"I remembered to ask for the password this time…" He said quietly as he refused to raise his eyes to meet Oliver's.

"And I'm proud of you for that," Oliver responded in what he hopped was a gentle tone. As he turned away from the young boy, he set down the pile of clothing he had in his hands and did his best to hide it away to ensure that the clothing would be a surprise for the young boy. The clothes hidden as best as he could manage, he walked over to where the young boy stood.

"You're…not still angry at me?" Ryuto asked as he lifted his eyes for a brief moment to look at Oliver before he once more turned his attention back to the spot of earth he was systematically destroying with his foot.

With a mild sigh of bemusement, Oliver set the bundle of clothing on the floor and headed towards Ryuto. He could feel the young boy stiffen as his body went deathly still. Oliver smiled gently as he lightly ruffled the boy's hair and knelt down so that he was on eye level with the young boy.

"I'm not mad, I was never mad," He began as he waited for the Ryuto to raise his green eyes to meet his golden ones. After a few moments of deliberate aversion of his sight, Ryuto gave in and raised his eyes to meet Oliver's. Oliver felt a stab of guilt shake his core; the young boy's eyes were red and bloodshot from having cried and there were fresh tears at the corner threatening to spill at any moment.

"I'm not mad," Oliver repeated deliberately, "In fact, I should apologize for yelling at you. I was just worried. But even so, that doesn't excuse me for yelling at you. I'm really sorry."

The two of them stood there locked in silence for a moment. Oliver could only hope that his apology was accepted; he knew that there was no reason for him to lose his temper and he honestly couldn't blame Ryuto if he didn't forgive him.

As the two of them continued to stand there, the silence was broken by a chocked sob.

Oliver felt guilt course through every inch of his body.

Ryuto was sobbing uncontrollably.

"Y-You were really scary," He managed between gulping gasps of air, "I-I-I don't like it when y-you y-y-yell."

"I know, I shouldn't have yelled. I'm sorry."

"I-I'm sorry too. I-I shouldn't have talked like that. I know it's dangerous b-b-but…I-I just want us to go do f-fun stuff together; l-like a real f-fami-l-ly."

The young boy's sentence ended in tears and a low wail as he finally gave in completely to the choking lump in his throat. Oliver gently pulled the young boy into his arms, which only caused the child's sobs to grow louder as he clung desperately to Oliver's coat and cried into his shoulder.

He's just a child…he just wants a family… Oliver thought as the boy's sobs filled the hollow cavern of their home and his small body shook violently in Oliver's embrace.

The two of them remained in this position until Ryuto's sobs died down and he detangled himself from Oliver's arms. He once more looked down at the ground, but this time his eyes were colored with guilt.

"I shouldn't have cried like that…" He said quietly as his voice continued to waver in memory of the tears he had just shed, "I have to be strong like daddy said…"

"No, sometimes it's alright to cry. I'm sure your daddy understands that. But Ryuto, what I want you to know is that we're a family, no matter what," Oliver said softly as he once more ruffled the young boy's hair. The young boy lifted his eyes, not quite believing what Oliver was saying to be the truth.

"I'm not lying you know. We're a family; I'm the big brother that has to watch out for his little brother and little sister."

As he said those words, Oliver realized for the first time how true they were. They may not have been a family in the traditional sense, but he would protect both Yuki and Ryuto with his life; he would go to any lengths to make sure that they were happy.

And for him, that made them family enough.

"…You're the big brother?" Ryuto echoed, pulling Oliver from his thoughts. Oliver responded with a nod.

"Yup."

"You're the big brother…and we're a family…" Ryuto mumbled, almost as if to himself.

"And because of that, sometimes I'm going to do stupid things that you're going to have to forgive me for. So, do you forgive me?"

"O-Of course I do! I could never stay mad at you!" The young boy practically yelled.

"I'm glad to hear that," Oliver said with a light chuckle, "But now that we've apologized, I think it's time for you to be getting off to bed. You do know what tonight is, right?"

"Tonight?" Ryuto echoed as he looked at Oliver in confusion.

"Yeah, it's Christmas Eve. And this year, I bet you that St. Nick isn't just going to pass over us."

"R-Really?" Ryuto asked quietly as hope began to sneak its way into his voice, "Even though he passed over us last year?"

"I guarantee it, you and Yuki have been really good this year so there's no way he would pass you up," Oliver replied with an easy smile, "But, if you're still awake..." Oliver intentionally let his voice trail off.

"I-I'll make sure to go to bed!" Ryuto said with renewed determination in his voice. Oliver couldn't help but smile as the young boy's characteristic glow in his eyes slowly began to return.

"Then you best be heading off to bed; I heard the sleigh bells on St. Nick's sled as I was walking home."

Ryuto gave a quick nod of his head before he scampered off to his corner where his blanket was splayed out. He quickly huddled under the covers and stuck his head out to look at where Oliver still stood; Oliver returned his gaze with a smile. All Ryuto's previous misgivings and tears faded from his eyes as he gave a wide, toothy grin before he quickly buried his face in his blanket.

"Before you head off to bed, do you know where Yuki is?" Oliver asked, realizing for the first time the young girl's absence.

"She went to bed already. She's sleeping in the loft," came the muffled reply from where Ryuto lay.

"Alright, goodnight then."

"Goodnight…big brother."

Oliver felt his eyes spread slightly in surprise at Ryuto's choice of words, but he found himself smiling all the same. 'Big brother', he could get used to the sound of that.

Once he was satisfied that Ryuto wouldn't be emerging from his place under the covers, he quickly turned back to where he had hidden the clothing away. He pulled the clothing out and quickly separated it into an outfit for Yuki and one for Ryuto. Yuki's outfit was a loose fitting red dress that seemed to glow slightly in the weak moonlight and a large, brown coat that would cover her entire thin frame and keep her warm. Ryuto's outfit was a small green jacket with a white undershirt and shorts. Oliver had also grabbed the young boy a blue jacket like the one he was wearing.

But the most important thing was the last thing he grouped with the bundles.

He had managed to obtain a pair of shoes for both of them.

With great reverence, he placed the shoes with the piles of clothing. Satisfied with his work, he stepped back and couldn't help but smile. Not only would Ryuto and Yuki have new clothing, but they would also now be able to play in the snow in their warm winter coats. Just like Ryuto wanted, they would be able to play outside as a family.

All it had taken was a Christmas Eve miracle and "St. Nick" to bring them together as a family.

"Family…" Oliver said quietly to himself. The word never tasted as sweet as it did in that moment. The almost goofy grin that dominated Oliver's face demonstrated just how much joy both the word and the emotions behind it brought him.

Yet as he continued to stand there with his goofy grin, he realized a problem. It was true that he had grabbed shoes for the young kids, but in his haste and fear of being discovered, he had failed to grab shoes for himself. If he didn't have shoes, there was no way he could run around in the snow with Ryuto and Yuki.

He just had to go back.

He wouldn't let Ryuto's wish go unfulfilled.

There was a performance tonight; no one would be paying attention. It was the perfect opportunity. As he prepared to leave, he actively worked to convince himself that he wasn't going back to the church to hear the music; it was to get the shoes.

It was a lie that no matter how much he told himself, he would never be able to fully believe.

With his mind made up, Oliver turned on his heel, looked once more to the sleeping figure of Ryuto and the loft where Yuki was sleeping, and headed out the door into the cold, Christmas Eve night.

Oliver was astonished by the number of people that had congregated around the church. The group milled about aimlessly as they waited for the church doors to open so they could take their seats to see the Christmas Eve service. Oliver swore gently under his breath; there was no way he was going to get in without being spotted.

But of course he wasn't going to give up that easily.

I'll just wait till the service is over, then I'll sneak in back, grab the shoes and get out, He reasoned as he mulled about with the rest of the group. He quickly put on the mask that would allow him to blend with the crowd; complete hopelessness and submission.

It wasn't long before the doors of the church swung open, ushering the hopeless mob into the glowing warmth. The group moved as a whole and Oliver couldn't help but note how the dark and despondent crowd clashed almost comically with the bright, polished inside of the church. It wasn't long before Oliver was also inside the grand church; another speck of darkness in the light.

He quickly detached himself from the rest of the crowd and found a pew that was situated in the back, close to the door. It may have just been due to the fact that he had conditioned himself through his years of thievery, but he wanted to ensure that he had an immediate escape route.

The tide of people began to stem as a low murmur filled the room. Oliver could taste the excitement in the air, but he had no idea what was going to happen next. He looked about him, searching for whatever was causing the excitement, but the only thing of interest he saw was a stooped woman with brown hair that covered her face, muttering to herself as she patted the seat next to her. She made Oliver feel uneasy and he consciously scooted closer to the end of the pew and further from her. He fidgeted uncomfortably as the minutes dragged on and nothing happened.

Suddenly, a voice, clear and strong, rang through the air.

Oliver felt himself freeze as the one voice lilted up and down in a sweet and clear song. In a few seconds, the singular voice was joined with others until they reach a crescendo of angelic voices ringing through the golden sanctuary of the church. Next, the organ joined in. The room swam with the interplay of the choir and the organ; two elements so completely separate from one another yet reliant upon the other to tell the whole story.

It was unlike anything Oliver had ever experienced. All he could do was sit and allow the music and experience to wash over him. He felt his entire being sway and move with the crescendos and decrescendos of the music; he felt his heart race as the music reached a frantic high point; he felt his entire body relax as both the choir and organ exited and the only thing that remained was the singular, ringing voice. The last notes of the song melted away into the ether and absolute silence filled the sanctuary.

It didn't last long as the audience broke out into thunderous applause; Oliver was too stunned to respond in any way.

This…this was music?

"Thank you for coming to our Christmas Eve service," A voice broke into Oliver's cloud of awe. He turned to see the pastor standing at his pulpit and speaking to his congregation, "We would like to welcome both the world renowned boys' choir and the musical duet of Al and Ann."

Another round of applause broke out as Oliver noticed for the first time both the choir and Ann and Al. Ann was standing in front of the choir in a white gown that reached to the floor and her golden ringlets seemed to glow in the church light. A radiant smile painted her face as she gave a curtsey, acknowledging the applause. Al stood up from his place at the organ. His brown hair was slicked back with a few unruly piece escaping. He was wearing an all-black suit that was in stark contrast to the white dress Ann wore. He gave a deep bow of acknowledgement.

Oliver's eye swept over these details as his eyes settled on the boys' choir. The boys all looked to be close to his age; some even looked a little younger. Oliver realized that they were all wearing the same style of coat that he had wrapped around his shoulders; he could have easily fit in with all the other boys in the choir.

"Thank you for the warm reception," A voice said that Oliver instantly recognized as Ann, "It's an honor that we are able to perform here in a time of such turmoil. We hope that the music will allow you to escape from reality for just a little bit."

"And now," The pastor said, "A reading from the scriptures…"

At this point, Oliver stopped listening as his mind vividly recalled the strains of music he had just heard. He closed his eyes as the wave of memories overtook him and wrapped him in a feeling of warmth and security.

Was this what the boys in the choir felt like every time they sang?

Would it ever be possible for him to be a part of the music?

"Oliver, stop fidgeting around and pay attention to the sermon. If you don't behave St. Nick won't come."

At the sound of his name, Oliver was forcibly pulled from his cocoon of pleasant thoughts as he turned to see who had spoken to him. It was the woman with the brown hair who had been patting the seat next to her.

She had said his name, but she wasn't looking at him. Was she speaking with someone else?

Oliver began to examine the woman in more earnest as he tried to see her face. No matter how long he stared at her, she didn't lift her face from the floor. But in addition, the longer he stared at her, the more a distant memory began to speak at the edge of his mind. Before long, he couldn't stand it any longer; he had to see the woman's face.

"Excuse me," He said quietly so to not disturb the other patrons around him, "Who are you speaking to?"

The woman whipped around suddenly as if a spell had been broken. She turned to stare at Oliver with eyes that seemed to not see him; they were clouded and dull.

But Oliver knew those eyes.

He felt his heart stop in his chest.

"Oh, I'm sorry, is my son bothering you? You don't look to be much older than him," She said as she patted the seat next to her and looked at the air like one might look at a child, "You're so well behaved; do you think you could teach my son how to not fidget in church?"

She gave a laugh that sounded bright and fairy like in contrast with the dark, toning voice of the pastor reading the Holy Scripture.

Oliver's tongue felt heavy in his throat as he tried to form words. He couldn't; it was impossible. The woman was staring at him with her dead, hollow eyes with a gentle grin on her face.

It was too much.

It hurt so much to look at her.

It hurt to look at her and remember; remember who she once was.

He looked at those eyes, those eyes he once knew, and suddenly he was able to find his voice.

"…Mother?"

He said the word quietly, like it was sacred.

The woman looked up from the empty space next to her. Her eyes locked with Oliver's.

Golden eyes met golden eyes as everything else faded away.