Well, long time no see, everyone! I'll be honest, I had NO idea it's been so long since the last time I updated this story. I've been struggling with writer's block for it for a while now, so I've been working on stuff for other fandoms instead, but I never meant for there to be such a long wait. So sorry about that! This chapter took a long time to write even after I started feeling creative again, and I'm still not sure how I feel about it, but I hope you all will enjoy it. :)

I've also been wondering what everyone thought of the Santa Clauses series that came out on Disney? I'm terrible about watching new things, so I've still only seen the first episode. It seemed like it was going to be okay, and I like Noel's character. But maybe if you guys tell me if you liked it or not I'll be able to make myself sit down and watch the rest? Here's to hoping lol.

Anyway, sorry again for the wait. Writer's block sucks and I hope it doesn't come between me and the rest of this story after this again. There's two more chapter's left until the end! Thank you to everyone who's read, favorited, and/or reviewed. I really aprreciate you. :)

13. November '96 Part Two

If there's one thing Scott truly misses about Illinois, it's the rain. It never rains at the North Pole- it can't. The city is hidden deep within the thick ice, away from storm clouds and prying eyes alike. Scott isn't even sure if it's possible for rain to fall so far north, or if it would all just turn to snow or ice. But even though it's impossible, sometimes he can't help pressing his face against the chilly windowpanes of his workshop, his warm breath fogging the glass as his eyes search the shroud of darkness that swallows their icy ceiling for a rain cloud or a streak of lightning. He misses the chilled, biting air November rain brings and the smell of the earth rising as it falls. Lakeside during a storm always smells like damp soil, wet leaves, asphalt, and road salt. The North Pole always smells like sugar and chocolate, wood crackling in a roaring fire, snow that never melts, and pine trees. Lakeside sounds like the roar of a crack of thunder, and raindrops pelting sideways against your window. The North Pole always sounds like laughter, the pounding of tiny hammers, and the blanket of silence that falls every night after a day full of hard work building toys. And Scott would usually never complain about any of those things, but when his mood is as stormy as he desperately wishes the sky was, all that cheerfulness does is make him feel even worse.

One evening, just a few days after that awful meeting with the judge about family counseling, Scott finds himself by the balcony doors of his office, nose barely an inch away from the feather-like-frost covered glass. He's rolling a tennis ball between his hands- he can't remember where he got it from. He thinks one of the elves in the Ball Room made too many for a child's present, so Reggie had tossed it his way. He's trying to imagine what Elfsburg might look like through a sheet of rain. He thinks it might be magical to see the harsh orange glow of streetlamps wobbling in a downpour. He doesn't hear the door to his office opening, or hear anyone call his name. So when someone tosses a throw pillow at him, it surprises him so much, he actually yelps.

"You okay, boss?" Bernard asks. He's standing by the arm chairs, two large rolls of oil paper tucked under one arm and his brow furrowed with unmistakable concern.

"Yea, you just surprised me."

"No, I meant..." Bernard hesitates, worrying his bottom lip. "What are you doing?" he finally asks.

Scott looks away from his Head Elf. He's found out over the last year it's much easier to hide what he's thinking from Bernard if he doesn't look at him. "Just thinking."

They fall silent. The moment grows uncomfortably awkward, but then he hears the boy sigh and the soft thunk of the rolls of paper being dropped onto his coffee table. "Okay, Scott," Bernard says. This grabs Scott's attention immediately. Bernard never calls him by his first name. It's almost always "Santa." He looks back at the elf again. "Let's go take a walk."

"I don't want to take a walk," Scott grumbles.

"I don't care. You need one. You've been holed up in your office ever since your meeting with the judge-"

"I've been working."

"You've been hiding. So, come on. Throw on some normal clothes and let's go."

Scott blinks. "Normal- where are you taking me?"

"On a walk," Bernard says simply, and before Scott can argue any more, he starts towards the door. He does say before he leaves though, "you better be ready in fifteen. We're going whether you're still dressed as Santa or not."

As the door swings shut, Scott tosses the tennis ball he'd been playing with at it. It bounces pitifully off the wooden frame and rolls underneath a bookcase.

He does do what Bernard asked. Scott walks down the short hall from the office to his bedroom and changes into a navy sweater and jeans, tennis shoes, and a thick knit hat. Bernard knocks on his bedroom door exactly fifteen minutes on the dot from when he'd left the office. He's dressed similarly in dark jeans, a red and black flannel shirt, a black cap that matches his usual velvet green one, and a heavy jacket. When he'd told Scott to get changed, it hadn't crossed his mind that Bernard would be doing so too. It's always strange to not see him looking more like an elf- with velvet shirts or strings of ornaments around his neck. Bernard passes Scott a jacket, which he pulls on, and then Scott lets the elf whisk them away from the pole.

They land in a deserted parking lot just as thunder booms overhead. Scott nearly jumps out of his skin. He looks up, rain splattering down from the dark clouds above onto his face. He swipes a hand across his eyes to wipe away the water gathering in his eyelashes. Bernard tells him to come on, so Scott follows him out of the parking lot. They go up a narrow side street, and then make their way onto a much more crowded main one with cars lined up along both sides of the road. The sidewalks are packed with people, all hunched in heavy coats or gripping umbrellas tight as they push through the storm. More and more join the throng as they shove their way out of the stores neatly sat alongside the walkway. There are restaurants, shoe stores, fancy clothing boutiques, bookstores, a cluttered antique shop, a jewelers. Scott peers into every window as they pass by. It's oddly overwhelming being here. He wonders if maybe he's just gotten used to the more cheery streets of Elfsburg. They're just as busy as this one- especially on Sundays when everyone has the day off- but there's something a little more calm about them. Maybe it's because everyone back home smiles at him and asks how he's doing, not grumbles at him when he accidentally bumps into them as he tries to catch sight of his Head Elf.

He finally spots the elf in question easily pushing through a large group waiting at an intersection. Bernard doesn't utter a word to them- not an excuse me or anything- and Scott wants to scold the boy about his manners, but then he realizes that no one in the group even saw Bernard. But of course they wouldn't- he's an elf. Just like the adults at Charlie's field trip, no one here can actually see him. Their eyes must all be passing over him as he shoves his way through. Unfortunately for Scott, he isn't invisible. He tries as politely as he can to maneuver his way through the crowd so he can catch up with Bernard. Thankfully, the boy is waiting for him right on the other side. Scott lets out a huff of annoyance once he reaches him.

"Where are we?" he asks, wiping a hand across his face again.

"Seattle," Bernard says. He's looking up and down the street like he's searching for something.

"Sea- why did you bring me here?"

"To walk. The rain's not bothering you, is it?"

Something in Bernard's voice lets Scott know he already knows the answer to that question. No, it's not bothering him. He was just thinking about how much he missed the rain this time of year. It's a little weird Bernard knew that, but then again, Scott is almost positive the boy has some way of always knowing what his boss is thinking.

"You really just wanted to go for a walk in the rain?"

"Well, no," Bernard says. Scott can see a trace of a smirk lifting at the edge of the boy's mouth. "I also wanted to get coffee. Come on."

Bernard takes off again, pushing his way through a crowd of grumpy businessmen with sad sodden coats and hats. Scott hurries after him. "But I thought you don't drink coffee?"

"I don't. But I can just get tea. You drink coffee though."

He follows Bernard down the street and around another corner until finally they stop at the very narrow door of a tiny cafe. Bernard leads the way inside. Scott can't help but shudder at the gust of warm air that blows over him as he enters. The rain outside was frigid, and its wet chill had just started to slip its way past the collar of his jacket and sink into his clothes. This new warmth feels amazing. The cafe is bright and crowded. There's only a handful of spindly-legged square tables with colorful mismatched chairs and two overstuffed, faded floral print couches crammed into the small dining area. The floor is a shining light hardwood and the walls are covered in yellow wallpaper with a dainty white flower pattern. It smells like coffee beans and cinnamon inside and there's a display case full of tasty treats right by the register. Scott sees sugar cookies shaped like pumpkins and maple leaves and smiling cartoon-turkey faces. There's a decadent-looking chocolate cake, and a lemon one with whipped icing and fruit compote. There's cheesecake, pumpkin and apple pies, and some multi-layered thing just called Mama's Holiday Surprise. Behind the front counter is another smaller case with scones, muffins, and other baked goods. There's also heavy duty wooden shelves overloaded with different canisters of tea, bags of coffee beans, and decorative mugs. Hanging above them is a large chalkboard with the cafe's menu written in careful print.

The line for the register almost reaches the door. Bernard tells Scott to go grab the last free table while the elf buys their drinks. Scott pushes his way through the packed dining area and finds the empty table Bernard mentioned flush up against the wide front window of the store. He pulls off his jacket and hangs it off the back of his chair, and then sits down to wait for Bernard to come back.

It takes a while, but eventually he spots the elf slowly making his way over to him, a large mug in one hand and a smaller delicate teacup in the other. He hands Scott his coffee and then sets his drink down so he can take his own jacket off. Scott watches Bernard get settled, and then finally asks, "what are we doing here?"

Bernard doesn't answer at first. He's too busy pouring an absurd amount of honey into his tea. Scott takes a sip of his coffee while he waits. It's strong, and it burns his tongue a little, but he really likes it. "Well," Bernard finally says, once he's finished. He pauses to lick a smear of honey that had somehow gotten onto his thumb. "I figure, since you're going to just spend the whole day brooding again, you might as well have a change of scenery."

"I haven't been brooding," Scott huffs.

"Right, because you usually spend your mornings staring morosely out the window. Sorry, I forgot."

Scott doesn't appreciate the boy's sarcasm, and he narrows his eyes to show it. Bernard just raises an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Fine," Scott grumbles, "but I wasn't doing it all morning."

"Because that makes it so much better."

"You just don't get it," Scott complains, defensive.

"What don't I get, Scott?" Bernard asks, taking a long sip of tea.

Scott looks down into his coffee, frowning. "It's... It's not easy knowing everyone thinks you're a bad parent."

"Who thinks you're a bad parent?" Bernard's voice is disbelieving, but it's also much gentler than it's been so far today.

"Well, Laura and Neil, apparently-"

"Did they actually say that? That they think you're a bad parent?"

"Well, no..." Scott takes another sip of his coffee while he thinks. They haven't actually said those words to him, but Laura has certainly hinted at it before. Last year, when the changes from his magic hadn't quite gotten noticeable yet, and he was still trying to convince Charlie the whole Santa thing had been a dream, what had Laura said to him? "If you can't be Father of the Year, why not be Father Christmas." She probably doesn't even remember saying it, but he does. Scott remembers because it had stung, much more so than most of the insults Laura sent his way whenever they were fighting. It wasn't even the most vicious thing she's ever said to him. But it hurt because he knew it was true. He hadn't been doing a good job.

"If they haven't said it, why are you so convinced they think it?" Bernard asks, interrupting Scott's thoughts.

He hesitates. "Because... because of what Neil said last month. He told Dr. Sanchez he was worried about what's going to happen when the three of us hit a 'bad patch' or whatever. He said he was worried we were going to go back to how it was before- you know, when we were at each other's throats all the time. And I guess she told the judge everything he'd said, and that she agreed with Neil, so now we still have to go to counseling every month until Judge Whalen decides otherwise."

"Is that really such a bad thing?"

"Yes!" Scott scowls. "I don't have time for that right now. Christmas is, what, like a month away? Do you really want to worry about me being gone?"

"You know we could work around any appointments. Tell me what's really bothering you."

Scott opens his mouth to argue that there isn't anything else, but when he sees the knowing look in Bernard's eyes, he feels himself deflate. The cafe has gotten noisier as more people rush inside to escape the storm. Scott turns his head to watch the wind blow raindrops sideways against the window they're sitting by. "Everyone but me is worried about this bad patch," he starts, voice so quiet, he hears Bernard's chair squeak as he leans closer so he can hear what Scott's saying. "But I think we're fine. Laura and I aren't fighting all the time, Charlie likes spending time with me again- hell, I'm even getting along with Neil, and if you asked me this time last year if that would ever happen, I would have told you no. But... if I'm not worried about it, but everyone else is, doesn't that mean they think I'm the problem? That I'm the reason we're going to backtrack?"

"Not necessarily," Bernard says. Scott turns to face him again, and sees the elf shaking his head. "For all you know, Laura and Neil might be worried they'll mess it up."

Scott, who'd just picked up his coffee again to take another drink, stills. "I... I haven't thought of that."

"No?"

"No." He blinks at Bernard, confused. "Why wouldn't they just say that?"

"Haven't they? You said Neil was the one to bring it up in the first place. Maybe that was his way of saying it."

"That's kind of an indirect way of saying you're worried you might screw up."

"Because you're always so forthcoming?"

Scott wants to grumble at him, but Bernard does sort of have a point. "I guess... it kind of makes sense."

"Scott, believe me. I saw plenty of times last year where Laura started the fights, or Neil made the snarky comment. You're not blameless, but you're also not the only one at fault. They know this."

Scott groans and lets his head fall into his hands. He doesn't even care that someone might me staring at him right now. "I know what you're saying makes sense, but... why is this suddenly all so hard? We've been fine up until now."

"I don't know. It's almost like Neil was right about you guys possibly going through a bad patch soon."

Scott huffs at him again, looking up to pin the elf with a halfhearted glare. "You're awfully sarcastic today."

"I came out in the pouring rain for you. Deal with it."

That actually makes Scott laugh. He picks up his cup so he can finish his coffee. It's lukewarm now, but that's not surprising since they've been sitting here a while. "Thanks," he finally mutters, once he's finished. "I'm still kind of frustrated with the whole thing, but it's nice having a friend to talk to about it."

Bernard blinks, like he's a little surprised at what Scott's said. His face slips into a warm grin. Scott isn't sure why the elf seems so pleased with him. They get up to leave a little while later, after Scott treats them both to some of the desserts in the display case, but as they're stepping outside a question pops up in Scott's mind.

"Hey, Bernard?" he asks. The elf hums to let him know he has his attention. "What did you mean when you said you saw Laura and Neil starting fights last year. You weren't around."

"Oh, that? I always keep an eye on Santa and his family that first year."

"So, you were just watching me last year? Like, all the time?"

"Yea, pretty much."

Scott pauses. "That's... that's weird, buddy."

Bernard busts out laughing, right as a crack of thunder booms overhead. "I guess so. But I had to make sure you weren't going to run on me!" he jokes.

After Bernard teleports them home, Scott does feel a little more motivated to actually get some work done. He finds the rolls of paper the elf had abandoned in his office and unfurls them. It's the final list of presents each child is getting this Christmas. Bernard wanted Scott to go through it to make sure they didn't accidentally get anything wrong. He only makes it through an hour or so of doing that before his mind starts to wander, that pinprick of irritation at the Judge and family counseling trying to push itself to the front of his mind, so he leaves the list on his desk and goes down to Research and Development to see Quintin. The boy is working on improvements to the sleigh's guidance system, since last year they'd lost Scott for a few minutes when he'd hit a snowstorm in Switzerland. Scott listens as well as he can to everything Quintin tells him, but after fifteen minutes of him talking about radar and weather patterns, Scott's mind has drifted again. He tells the elf that everything sounds good, even though truthfully he didn't understand a single word of it, and then leaves to go to another department.

Each day starts to pass in a blur like that. He goes from department to department hoping something will keep his mind off worrying about the bad patch. He feels like his worry has become a monster creeping around the corners of the workshop, watching him and waiting for the perfect moment to leap. Scott believes Bernard when he says that Laura and Neil might be worried they'll be the ones to mess things up, but he can't help feeling like he's walking himself right into a trap. Like he's just missed an enormous sign warning LOOK OUT and he's headed blindly into what he's most afraid of- disappointing Charlie again. Nothing distracts him from these feelings. Not helping wrap presents, or planning his route with Larry and Josiah, or sitting down and writing up his report for the Year-End Holiday Conference the Pole will be hosting for the Legendary Counsel near the end of November. He can tell Bernard is still worried about him, but he doesn't think there's any pep talk the elf could give him that would make him feel better. Bernard must realize this too, because he doesn't drag Scott on any more rainy day walks.

Instead, his Head Elf seems to somehow find a way to be everywhere at once. When a machine goes down on the Main Floor, Bernard's there with Scott to help him fix it. When Comet finds a bag of candy one of the stable elves left sitting around and eats so much of it he gets sick, Bernard is there beside Scott comforting the poor reindeer. He's there to go over what department numbers Scott should bring up at the meeting, and he's there in the Tower when the alarm goes on the fritz and Scott needs to help Titus shut the screeching siren off. It's almost annoying, how often the boy appears at his side. But then Bernard makes a joke or a sarcastic comment that Scott can't help but laugh at, and suddenly Scott forgets he was ever annoyed in the first place. And for a moment, he isn't worried about what Neil and the doctor said. He isn't worried about Judge Whalen making them go to more family counseling. He feels good, like maybe he was worried about nothing after all.

He also feels like he's forgotten something, but no matter how many times he tries to bring whatever it is back, he can't quite grasp it. He almost has a hold of it one day, when he hears a message from Laura on the answering machine Quintin installed for him late last month telling him Dr. Sanchez has to cancel their counseling appointment for the month because of a family emergency, but he knocks his cocoa over onto his conference report and in the panic of wiping up the mess, he loses it. And then there's another time, when he can actually almost feel his fingers touching whatever it is, bringing it into sharp focus. He's in the kitchen, eating an early dinner with the elves there, when Curtis accidentally knocks over an entire tray of Cornish pasties onto the floor. Abby, angry, tries smacking him with her spatula. Which, in turn, makes Curtis throw one of the ruined pasties at her. Bernard and Judy have to jump up and stop their fight, and in the ensuing chaos Scott's fingers slip and he loses whatever it was he almost remembered.

The council meeting comes not too long after that, and Scott spends the entire morning getting the kitchen ready. Judy tells him the elves like to go a little overboard when it comes to this meeting, because it's their chance to show off everything they've accomplished over the year. The second floor hallway and kitchen are scrubbed from top to bottom, and each strand of twinkling lights hanging on the walls are double-checked for blown bulbs. The long carved-wood table is set with the cheeriest dishes they have, and centerpieces of long thin red and green candles surrounded by bundles of holly leaves and berries are sat every few feet down the tabletop. There are heavy silver pots of fresh-brewed cocoa and sweet peppermint tea, and a medley of fresh-baked cookies for the Legendary Figures to snack on. The whole room smells like sugar and nutmeg, and pine from the Christmas trees Judy sets up on either side of the kitchen's large double doors. Scott's thoroughly impressed by the time the elves are finished. He welcomes the other council members into his home as exuberantly as possible for him right now, and once everyone is settled and Tooth manages to wake up Sandman, he begins the meeting.

Later that night, Scott finds himself in his office, yawning as he makes his way through his second run-through of the 'F' section of the Naughty and Nice list. There's a knock on his door, so Scott calls for whomever it is to come in. Bernard pokes his head inside.

"Hey boss, sorry to bug you. Judy just wanted to know if you wanted her to bring you some Thanksgiving dinner up here instead of your bedroom since you're working late tonight?"

Scott pauses, his pen hanging over the name he'd been about to check. He looks at Bernard, confused. "What?"

"Judy wants to know if you want her to bring you some Thanksgiving dinner?" the elf repeats. "The elves don't celebrate it, but she knows you do so-"

"W-wait, wait," Scott interrupts. "It's Thanksgiving?"

"Uh, yea?"

"Thanksgiving?"

"Yes," Bernard huffs, fully coming into the room now. "Why do you sound so shocked about that?"

"I..." and the thing Scott had been trying to remember for weeks finally clicks in his brain. He says, in a very small voice, "I promised Charlie I'd come down for Thanksgiving."

Both of them are silent for one long, excruciating moment. Then, "Santa!" Bernard shouts, though it comes out more like a yelp. "Why didn't you tell me? I would have made sure to remind you!"

"I-I don't know! I completely forgot about it after we left the courthouse." Scott fumbles to grab the clock on his desk so he can see what time it is. Eight-forty-five at night. No wonder Bernard had said something about him working late. The workshop was shut down for the night over an hour ago. "Laura always has dinner at five. Do you think I can still make it?"

Bernard gives him a look like he's afraid to answer. "Go change," he orders. "I'll take you down there as soon as you're dressed."

Scott rushes to his room, and throws on the first thing he sees in his closet. He's just pulling on a pair of tennis shoes when Bernard knocks on his bedroom door, and then hurries in without waiting for Scott to respond. "Ready?" he asks.

"Yea," Scott says, throwing on a jacket. "Hurry."

Bernard teleports them down to Illinois. They land roughly at the front door. Scott doesn't bother asking why Bernard dropped him here, instead of the back door like normal. He just rings the doorbell, and then peeks through the window next to him at the dining room. It's empty.

Laura swings the front door open a few moments later. Scott can tell by the hardness of her jaw and the stiff way she's blocking him from going farther into the house that she's not very happy with him. In fact, she's furious.

He opens his mouth, apology ready, but Laura cuts him off. "Don't, Scott."

"Look, I know you're mad, but-"

"Mad? I'm passed mad. You promised Charlie. All he's done all week is talk about how excited he was to see you today and you couldn't even be bothered to show up."

"Couldn't be- now wait a minute, Laura, that's not fair. I'm here, aren't I? Obviously, I wanted to show up. I just got-"

"Busy? Distracted?" she interrupts. "Was there a three-car pile up somewhere from here to the North Pole? You can save it, Scott. I've heard all your excuses before."

Scott narrows his eyes, his own anger starting to churn uncomfortably in his gut. "What is your problem? It's not like I've missed the whole day. I'm just late. I can apologize to Charlie and then everything will be fine."

"You're not just 'late,' Scott. You're four hours late. What, did you think we were all just sitting around the table waiting for you still?"

"No, but-"

"And my problem, by the way, is you never seem to realize how bad things are whenever you pull a stunt like this. You don't have to be the one to tell Charlie his dad's not coming, or sit in a car with him for over an hour because you're late. I'm always the one making excuses for you, or defending you to teachers or other parents when you don't show up to his games or parent-teacher conferences. I'm the one who has to tell Charlie that yes, of course his dad loves him, he just works too much sometimes."

Scott actually flinches back at that. He remembers, suddenly, Dr. Sanchez telling him he has problems balancing his work and home lives. "You know I don't mean to-"

"It doesn't matter if you mean to or not! You still do it, Scott."

Scott seethes, his face flush with heat from a flash of irritation at her constant interrupting. "This is your fault too, you know."

"My fault?"

"You could have called me!" Scott argues, and even to his own ears, his voice sounds too loud in the quiet evening air. "If you'd just called me when you realized I was late, I wouldn't have missed dinner and Charlie wouldn't be upset."

"I shouldn't have to remind you to spend time with your son!"

"I'm not saying you need to do that. I'm just saying we wouldn't be here fighting if you'd just called and told me what today was."

"I shouldn't have to tell you it's Thanksgiving. Everyone in the United States knows what today is. It's not my responsibility to call and say, 'hey, remember today's a holiday!'"

Scott throws his hands up in the air. "I'm not saying it is! But what's the big deal with just calling and giving me a heads up? I mean, come on Laura. Would you seriously rather Charlie be upset than spend two minutes on the phone with me."

"No!" Laura yells, pointing her finger right in Scott's face. "Don't you dare try to turn this around on me. I'm not the bad guy here, Scott. You need to learn to take responsibility for your own actions."

"I'm not..." Scott tries to take in a slow deep breath. He doesn't want to be doing this. He doesn't want to be standing outside Laura's front door, screaming at each other, while the neighbors are probably hiding behind closed blinds, their windows cracked open so they can listen in. He doesn't want to see Neil lurking in the background behind Laura, too indecisive to either step in between them or have his own go at Scott. He doesn't want to think of Charlie, upstairs in his bedroom, trying not to listen to his parents fighting again. They've been making it work all year. They can fix this now, too. He just needs to calm down.

"I'm not trying to make you the bad guy. I swear, I'm not," he says, as slowly as he can so he doesn't seem argumentative. "I just don't see what the big deal is. How would calling me today have been any different than you calling me when I forgot about our appointment with Judge Whalen?"

Scott knows he's made a mistake when Laura's mouth drops open in shock. Her eyes go wide for just a second, and then her whole face scrunches in fury. "I knew you forgot about that! And you lied to me. I can't believe I actually believed you!"

Crap, he thinks. He forgot he lied about remembering that appointment. Why did he do that? He never should have done that. "I—um-"

"You know what," Laura says, holding up her hand to silence Scott's nervous muttering. "I'm not doing this with you anymore. Charlie's already gone to bed, and I'm not waking him up just so you can give him the same lame excuses you always have. Just- just go home, Scott. We're done here."

"Laura, that's not fair!"

"No. What isn't fair is me having to spend the rest of the night worrying about what I'm going to say to Charlie tomorrow when he asks why his dad didn't show up again." She moves to turn away, but then swings back around to level Scott with a disappointed stare. " You know, I thought things we're going to be different now. I thought being Santa was good for you, that it gave you some perspective. But it's just more of the same, isn't it?"

"Laura-"

"Leave, Scott. Please."

She doesn't wait for him to say anything else. She just steps back inside and shuts the door. Scott just stands there, unmoored, staring at their front door. It's like he's missed a step and somehow fallen backwards in time to last year. None of the progress or understanding he's had with Laura has ever happened. He's the same man he was before, the same bad dad. Somehow, he makes himself turn around, hoping Bernard hadn't left after dropping him off. It's not like, if he did, Scott could knock and ask Laura or Neil if he could use their phone to call a cab to take him to a hotel for the night. He stares numbly at the walkway in front of him. It's dark and empty. He calls out a hopeless "Bernard?" but it's obvious the elf has already left.

"I'm here," says a voice, and Bernard seems to slip out of the shadows of the nearby bushes, the air around him shimmering like heatwaves over pavement on a hot summer day. "I was just trying to give you some privacy. I didn't want to leave, you know, in case you needed me."

Scott just nods. "So, you heard all that." It's not a question. Scott knows he did.

Bernard hesitates, and from the look on his face Scott can tell he wants to lie. Finally, though, he sighs, "yea. I did."

"I better just... do as Laura said and go home. I don't want to hurt Charlie anymore than I already have tonight."

Bernard opens his mouth to say something, but he hesitates again. Scott hopes he isn't about to try and argue with him to stay. He just doesn't have it in him tonight. Maybe Bernard can sense this, because he shakes his head and then steps forward to grab Scott by the arm.

"Come on, Santa," he mutters. "Let's go home."