Miracle at the 12th Precinct

Chapter 20

Title: Blue Christmas (1957) - Elvis Presley

Disclaimer: Tommy, is a character I invented to torture my very tall friend Holly. Tommy's mother is her future worst nightmare. You're welcome, Hol ;-)

Somewhere in Greenwich Village...

Previously...

"Who's there?" he shouted, struggling to get his bearings while calculating the distance to the door.

"Show yourself!" He cried, panicked, his adrenaline racing.

There was a rustling sound, the intruder moved closer, and then he thought he'd heard what could only be described as a snicker. Introductions were no longer necessary. "Hello Mother. How good of you to come."

"Ha." She laughed. "How'd you know it was me?" Asked the shrill voice, striking a match and then emerging from the shadows.

"Simple really, he said, with disdain. I smelled the fruitcake."

"There's no need for sarcasm, Thomas, it really doesn't suit you. And not that I need to justify myself to you, but I'll have you know, I'm perfectly sober."

He cocked his head, lifted a brow. That'd be the day. For as far back as he could remember, scarcely one had gone by when he hadn't either caught or suspected she'd been sneaking a nip at the bottle.

She lit a candlestick, placed it down on the counter and stepped closer, finally allowing him a clear view.

His mouth hung open. "Mother, what in the hell are you wearing?" He exclaimed.

"Watch your language, boy. You seem to have forgotten who you're speaking to." She warned, her tone causing him to stand straighter. She glanced down at her attire. "And I'm not quite sure what you mean." She said, pressing down the folds of her skirt.

She wore a long, straight, blonde wig, with her hair spiked up high on top. Her outfit included; heavy black biker boots, short black leather jacket, and a short flowing skirt that fell above her knees, black shredded fishnet stockings and fingerless gloves. She'd completed the ensemble with heavy makeup and dark black eyeliner. She looked like a raccoon. "What I mean, is why on earth are you dressed as an 80's punk rocker?"

She ignored the insult. "Oh, this? You mean my disguise? I think I look rather smashing. What do you know about fashion anyway?"

He continued to stare, at a loss for words. It had finally happened; she'd gone 'round the bend.

"What? I was trying to blend!"

"Yes, well, that would make sense, however, I'm finding myself unable to look away, and I'd really like to." He shook his head. "Are you decade-impaired? Do you even own a calendar?"

"Humph. You're a fine one to talk." She glared at him. "Have you taken a good look in the mirror lately? Isn't it about time you consider accepting who you are instead of trying to impersonate...one of them." She said, haughtily.

He held his chin high. "For your information, I know exactly who I am and as for the clothes I have on, mine were ruined in the explosion – I'm fine, by the way – and I'm very grateful for them. They were given to me by some very kind people that were nice enough to help me out when I was down on my luck."

She rolled her eyes. "I can see that you're fine. And you mean they were trying to change you; have you conform. They're playing you, don't you see it? Don't be so naïve." She narrowed her eyes. "I must say, I'm not a fan of the damage this visit has done to your manners, Thomas. Let's remember I'm only wearing this get-up because, once again, I had no choice but to think on my feet, drop everything to come rushing to your rescue in order to save your elfin hind from the disaster you've made of things. It would do you well to show a little more gratitude and a healthy dose of respect. You've few friends left, as I'm sure you can imagine, so I'd tread lightly if I were you." She sniffled, pretended to be hurt, and then wiped away a fake tear.

He immediately felt remorseful; she was right, and he hated when she cried, plus it terrified him to think of all that mascara possibly running down her face. He'd try not to take his frustration out on her. He had both Santa and Timmy's blood on his hands and everyone back home would rightfully hate him. It wouldn't help matters to turn her against him as well. Sure, she was partly to blame for his current predicament, but she'd always somehow managed to land on her feet and he'd likely be needing her help.

"I'm sorry, Mother." He bowed his head. "I assume you've heard everything by now and that's why you're here...the horrific tragedy of it all." He started to well up. "Forgive me, my rudeness; I think I may still be in shock. I appreciate you coming and offering your help." He looked up. "How is Aunt Jessica holding up? She must be beside herself with grief. And the others? How are they handling the news?"

She checked her fingernails, which were painted black to go with her outfit, and thought they didn't look half bad. "As you'd expect. They're all sniveling like idiots, but don't go worrying about your Aunt. She'll be fine." She rolled her eyes. "As usual she's surrounded herself with dozens of doting underlings eager to fulfill her every whim, in this, her hour of need." She replied dryly.

His mouth fell open. "How can you be so callous?" She'd never cease to amaze him. She'd always been a cold fish, but this time she'd crossed the line. He shook his head at her. Just the thought of his aunt, grieving for his uncle and Timmy tore his heart apart. His eyes started to water. "Have you no heart?"

His blithering was grating on her nerves. "There'd be no use in pretending I'm all broken up about it; you know I'm not the sentimental type; you'd see right through me. You know I always say it's best to be honest about your true feelings."

"I would think you'd be at least somewhat remorseful. After all, you did have a hand in this, Mother." No reaction, she didn't seem at all fazed. He tried again, "We've killed Christmas!"

"Look, I know you were close, but I do think you're overreacting. We'll carry on just fine." She said. "Think of the bright side...now, once Mommy takes care of things here, you can go home, back where you belong and then take over for him. It's what I've spent all these years grooming you for."

He looked at her like she was crazy, appalled by her lack of remorse. "What is wrong with you?" He asked, angrily. "He's irreplaceable!"

"Nonsense. Not to be insensitive, but everyone's dispensable. Stop being so melodramatic!"

"You're unbelievable!" He yelled.

She was taken aback by his tone, not used to seeing his dander up quite that high. Though pleased he seemed to have finally found a backbone and possibly grown a set, she'd had enough of his inexcusable back talk. She decided a different approach was in order and conjured up her best wounded expression. "No need to take it out on me." She pouted. "I was only trying to stay positive. Negativity won't get you back home and in their good graces."

She was out of her mind and contrary to the reasons she'd given him, it was becoming crystal clear why his father had left them long ago. He'd have to handle this all on his own. Her skewed perception of right and wrong would only make things worse. He would turn himself in to the police; confess, tell them everything. He doubted they'd believe half of it, but he was determined to try and convince them. There would be obstacles. For one, he'd have to prove to them he wasn't crazy. He'd also be forced to reveal he wasn't mortal which went against the elfin code, but he could think of no better way to get them to believe his story. His mother wouldn't approve, of course, but she'd left him little choice. "I won't be going home. And it's time the truth be known. I'm going to the police. I'm sorry, I know it's not what you'd prefer we do, but we must face what we've done in order to bring those criminals to justice - or they'll both have died in vain."

She panicked, believing he'd gone mad. There was no way in hell she was letting herself be captured by mortals only to be held in some disgusting, sub-standard jail cell like a criminal for all eternity. Not if she had anything to say about it. She still had a couple of hundred good years left in her. And then it dawned on her that he'd said, they - they will have died in vain...they...he thinks Kris and Timmy are both dead. She studied him curiously. He was now pacing the room and rambling. It all made sense to her now - why he'd been carrying on so. Going to the police was out of the question – she had a much better idea - to convince him he wasn't thinking clearly and that he should let her speak with his aunt first to see what should be done. Much to her chagrin, her son listened better to his aunt than his own mother. Not that she'd really speak to her sister, she couldn't give a rat's ass about her opinion, but he didn't need to know that. She'd let him stew a bit, let off some steam, then as soon as he stopped rambling she'd put her plan into place.

"Thomas," She said, calmly. "I think it's best we both return to the North Pole immediately and speak with your Aunt. She'll know what to do, and I promise to abide by her wishes."

"Promise me you'll change your clothes first."

She ignored his comment. "So, if you're done moping now, I insist we pop on out of here this instant. It's getting late and I have a bingo game to attend to this evening."

"You don't know, do you, Mother?" He said, with surprise. "When I said I can't leave, I meant it - I really can't leave. I can never leave this place again. Uncle Kris grounded me last week. It's all over for me now."

She was shocked. "Why on earth would he ground you?"

"Because I lied to him."

"Seems rather harsh, grounding someone just because they told a few little white lies..."

"More like a dozen...and they were doozies."

"For god sakes, Thomas, have I not raised you right? Haven't you learned by now not to lie to Santa Claus?" She looked up towards the sky and cried dramatically. "Oh, where did I go wrong? Where did I go wrong? I swear I only dropped him on his head those few times when he was a baby..."

He was used to her dramatics and ignored her ranting. "The fact is I should have gone to Santa when I had the chance." He told her. "I should have told him the truth about what happened that night."

"I disagree." She argued. "If we'd left it up to him, we would have all been sitting around sharing our feelings and you'd be dead right now, not Timmy. Instead, you're here, safe, in this...," She glanced around the room with distaste. "...humble abode. Are you quite positive you've been grounded?"

"Yes."

She waved her hand to see if she could send him home on her own. Her attempt failed. "Damn, you weren't kidding."

"Of course not!"

"And you've no new powers of your own?" She asked. "Anything we might find useful?"

His muscles tensed and he worked to slow his pulse down. He shook his head. "No, nothing new."

"I'd always thought it odd you hadn't developed any others, most elves have by your age."

"Yes, Mother, I know...yet another disappointment for you. But powers or not, I will be turning myself in, it's best you accept it. And speaking of this humble abode, how did you know where to find me?"

That's more like it, she thought. At least he'd stopped raising his voice. "Well, you didn't make it easy with all your moving around and whatnot, but apparently I'm still able to track you."

He crossed his arms. "Hmmm. Sure took you long enough." He looked at her suspiciously. "I didn't make it easy for you or you were too busy?" He made a show of taking a swig from an imaginary bottle. "So, which was it Mother?"

"I resent the implication. My radar goes on the fritz at times, but I wasn't home lounging about if that's what you're implying. I was on a fact-finding mission; gathering information trying to clear your good name, I might add. While I had no such luck in that arena I did stumble upon some information that was rather...shocking."

He hated when she dragged things out. "And you heard this shocking news through..." He prompted.

"Through a former co-worker of yours, the delinquent; Billy Sanchez. Not that he'd remember any of it. High as a kite, he was. He said the police were out looking for you, that they'd questioned those you worked with including that hussy you call a girlfriend. Hauled them all down to the 12th Precinct. Oh, and those hoodlums, they're also out hunting for you. You've become a bit like small game, I'm afraid."

When he didn't respond she noticed his face turning red. "Well, aren't you going to say something? I've just told you you're being hunted! What's the matter with you?"

"I won't have you calling Holly a hussy, Mother! She's the woman I love, and plan to marry someday...if she'll still have me once I beg for her forgiveness."

She raised her brows. "Really? Well, you may want to rethink that." She said cryptically.

"Why do you say that? Have you spoken with her?" He asked anxiously? "Is she alright?" He braced himself for bad news.

She wouldn't make eye contact. "Oh, Thomas, I don't know how to tell you this, it pains me so to see my boy treated so poorly."

"Tell me, Mother."

She faced him again. "Well, now you know I've never been a fan, but you did say the charlatan, I mean, the girl, made you happy...Oh, my dear boy, my dear foolish boy..."

"What is it already? Out with it!"

"She hates you. She's gone to the police, turned you in and that's why they're out looking for you. The delinquent told me everything. It seems you've put her in a rather precarious position and she bargained with them in exchange for her testimony against you. They've put her in a sort of witness protection custody. You'll never see her again, which is just as well."

"Oh, no."

"When will you finally admit, I was right about her all along?"

The wind knocked out of him, his knees hitched and he sat back down on the floor. She hates me. Holly hates me. He'd known it was a possibility, but it was also the very last thing he'd ever wanted to have actually happen. He'd never see her again. The news hit him like a ton of bricks. He was crushed. It was over - she'd washed her hands of him.

"She wasn't worthy of you." She said. "We'll find you a nice girl when we get you back home. One of our own; a more suitable match. I hate to say I told you so, but..."

He held his hand up. "Stop it, Mother. Just stop. I was the one not worthy." His eyes held a distant, empty stare. After everything that'd happened he couldn't blame her. Holly deserved to find happiness.

She rolled her eyes but held back a rebuttal since he seemed to be accepting that the girl was gone. She attempted to change the subject, to distract him from any subsequent pining. "You've really outdone yourself this time, Thomas; it won't be easy for me to repair the damage you've caused."

His blood boiled and the vein at his temple twitched. For his mother had a very short memory. His eyes grew cold and hard. "Seriously, Mother?" He said glaring at her. "I'm prepared to make amends for what I've done, but how can you stand there and act as though you've done nothing wrong?"

She raised her brows at his tone, surprised he'd had the balls to call her out on it. Then and there she vowed this would be the last time she'd allow him visit this dreadful place. She held her chin high and he caught a glimpse of anger in her eyes. "Because I haven't. You and I both know I did what had to be done, so don't go getting all self-righteous on me." She replied. "If it weren't for your weakness; your penchant for gambling, both Santa and Timmy would still be alive." She tsk-tsk'd. "To my dismay, I find there's more of your father in you than I'd first feared. He too was weak and refused my help repeatedly."

The comparison to his father silenced him up and she continued. "Right now you must listen to me. You're not thinking clearly which is why I will excuse your questionable behavior here tonight. Contrary to popular belief, I've only come to help you...let me help you, Thomas. As your mother I promise to do everything in my power to guide you towards redemption. That being said, I still see no need for you to sacrifice yourself by going to jail – it serves no purpose - the police will find the culprits on their own."

He started to interrupt and she held up a finger silencing him. "I'm not finished. I have but one request." She waited until she had his full attention. "Before you turn yourself in you must allow me time to go to your aunt to speak on your behalf. We'll let her make the call. She'll know the proper way to handle this and as much as it pains me, I know you respect her opinion, am I correct? We'll abide by her wishes. She's in charge now. Don't speak – just nod if you agree."

He nodded.

"Good, then it's settled. You'll stay here where it's safe. I shouldn't be long. She picked up the small bag she'd brought with her and pulled out a pillow, large blanket, multiple containers of food, a flashlight and water. "Here, take these. They should hold you until I get back."

"Thank you, Mother." He said.

"You're welcome, Thomas." She replied, patting him on the head, which for his mother was equal to a hug. "Don't worry, Mommy will make it all better. Just do as I say and stay put until I return. She started to leave but then turned back around and stared at him as though she had a question.

"What is it, Mother?"

"Just wondering..."

"Yes?"

"Do you happen to know a Richard Castle? Someone you worked with at Macy's, perhaps?"

"No, sorry. The name's not familiar. Why do you ask?"

She shrugged. "It's nothing, pay me no mind – it's just something odd the delinquent mumbled earlier in between bong hits." She sighed and shook her head. "Get some rest, Thomas. I'll be back as soon as I can."

And then, she vanished.

A/N: More to follow soon. Only a few more chapters left. Thank you so much for reading! Karen

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