A Happy New Year to all my regular readers. Last Wednesday chapter for a while; back to Sunday only after this week.

A quick warning. The last paragraph will upset some of you...

The Nightmare before Christmas Part II

Jeff was the last person in the house in the West Village to wake up on the day after the election, and that he did was mainly because he sensed that Nick was no longer lying at his side. He glanced at the clock, and cursed when he saw that it was still only 5.30am. He still got up out of bed, put his robe on, and headed towards the stairs. As he did so, he noticed that Mike's bedroom door was also open, and that his bed was empty too. He found his husband and Mike sitting at the kitchen table in silence, just staring blankly at the screen of Nick's laptop, on which a news report was playing; a news report that was stating that Trump had won the presidency…

Jeff's eyes, which had still been half shut with sleep, popped wide open at those words, and then he blinked hard a few times. He was just about to pinch himself really hard, in the hope that when he did so he would wake up back upstairs in bed, next to Nick, when his husband said in a deadpan tone "I wouldn't bother trying that Jeffie. I did, and it's still true. He won. The polls were wrong. The swing states voted for him, and as a result, she lost. The north east, the Pacific coast and well, Illinois, voted Democrat; everyone else went for Trump. I can see why they did. He promised them a return to the good old days, and they believed him. They didn't think about the consequences for other people, they just thought about themselves. The irony is, there will be a lot of people that voted Trump that will lose out from his policies. It's clear that they will, but they didn't do the math. He promised them all sorts of goodies, stoked their prejudices and their xenophobia, and they lapped it up. The gullible always do. It's a technique that has been used by other people throughout history to gain power…"

Jeff had by now stumbled his way over to slump in the chair next to Nick, a worried look upon his face. He was suddenly so glad that he lived in New York. He knew that the city would protect the rights that its people, all of its people had fought so hard for over the years. Those living elsewhere might not be so lucky. He shook his head sadly when Nick finished speaking, his eyes shining with moisture, then said, "Well, we just have to get ourselves ready to stand up and fight; to oppose all of those things that he tries to do that we despise. It has happened and there is nothing we can do to alter that fact now. We really just have to suck it up, and get on with our lives. To that end, I'll go and put the coffee on, and make a start on breakfast. I think that this is kind of a bacon morning, with eggs; toast with far too much butter on it, and maybe a few cookies after just to cheer ourselves up!" Jeff stood up, and noticed a small smile had appeared on Mike's face. "So, Nicky, do you want to cook the bacon, or shall I just go ahead and set off all the smoke alarms instead?"

As Mike burst out laughing, Nick stood up, shaking his head, and pulled his husband into a tight hug. "You're right of course; we do just need to be ready to stand up and be counted when the time comes. It is all that we can do for now. Still, at least all of the news wasn't bad. Burt kept his seat in Lima by a better margin than predicted…"

"And in Westerville…?" Jeff asked with a tremor in his voice.

"May the good Lord and history forgive me, but I'm not the estranged son of a congressman this morning. Our little scheme worked; McKinley High needs a new cheer coach. Sue Sylvester, for better or for worse, is on her way to Washington. I mean, I am glad that my dad lost, but…" Nick's voice faltered, and Jeff nodded, knowing exactly what he meant…

"The positive thing about that is that she is every bit as opposed to all of Trump's divisive policies as we are," stated Mike. "Sure, when I was at McKinley she was, to be frank, a ruthless, manipulative, cold-hearted bitch 99% of the time; her only joy in live seemed to be found in watching other people suffer. She loved Kurt though, and the death of her Porcelain affected her more than she will ever truly admit. Then she witnessed first hand what Blaine did… She is still an ace schemer, and she loves turning her hate on to people; fortunately for us these days, all of that hatred is currently aimed at our new President Elect. She will not bow to the party line if she thinks that a policy is wrong or crazy. He can have all the officials in the world meet with her, and turn the screws on her, but she won't just roll over. She will bite them first. We have to be like her; as Jeff said, we have to be ready to go out there, stand up for what we believe in and fight like generations have done before. We have to ensure that the voice of this generation is heard loud and clear by those in power."

"I guess that is all we can do," sighed Nick. "That, and fight to ensure that there is no way he is re-elected in 2020; no second term for that loathsome creep of a man. Right, this isn't getting breakfast ready. We've all got busy days ahead of us. I think that as well as the bacon, some French Toast might be in order?"

"I have no argument with that suggestion Nicky," replied Jeff with a smile, "and I am also pretty certain that I can help with that without burning the house down." Nick smiled and kissed his husband before the two started on breakfast. Mike meanwhile continued to watch the news on screen. It appeared that there had already been some protests in a few states as a result of his election already. He could understand why people weren't happy; he certainly wasn't. However, that was the risk with democracy; as Winston Churchill had once said "The best argument against democracy is a five-minute conversation with the average voter." He closed Nick's laptop down, and went to set the table, all the time wondering how all of their friends would be reacting to the news as they woke up this morning…

Rachel and Sam knew the worst had happened when they were woken up by the sound of Santana screaming obscenities at the top of her voice in Spanish. There was no going back to sleep as the noise continued, and although neither of them were particularly fluent in the language, the words Trump, Lima Heights, and cojones in the mix told them all they needed to work out what she was thinking.

Artie, who had predicted that this would be the result from watching the angels, still felt immense anger when it was confirmed to him. He also ignored his phone when he saw Kitty calling him; he knew full well that she was calling solely to rant about the result, and much as he loved her, it was far too early, and he really wasn't in the mood or frame of mind to hear her right now. Marley and Ryder had all of his sympathy, given that they lived with her, and he imagined that both of them would find any reason they could to leave for school early that morning.

Neither Flint or Ethan spoke as they ate their breakfast that morning; for the former, Mr Trump's position on the climate and environmental issues in general left him feeling alarmed about the world's future. For the latter, the day was likely to be hectic as the world's financial markets reacted to the news. There had already been problems in the Asian and European markets, and although both were starting to recover, it still wasn't going to be an easy time at work for a while…

In the house upstairs, there was an air of grim resignation, tempered with mild disgust that so many people in the country could actually have voted for him. Meanwhile, in the house next door, six young men had held an early morning council of war, pondering what they themselves could do to resist the scourge that was now about to be one of the most powerful men in the world. They would abide within the law, of course, although they all had to admit that the idea of heading up Fifth Avenue to throw flour, eggs or even bricks at a certain building was so very, very tempting…

In Murray Hill, Dave woke up to discover that Sebastian was in the kitchen, making bread. This was no great shock, as Nick's ability in the kitchen had made all of the Warblers want to try their hand. However, the pummelling that the dough was getting as Sebastian was kneading it made Dave think that it was also acting as a punch bag, a device to deal with his anger. He stopped when Dave wrapped his arms around him form behind, and started to kiss the back of his neck. "Keep doing that. I think that this poor dough has had all that it can take by now," said Sebastian quietly.

"That will be my pleasure," whispered Dave. "I am guessing that all of the polls were wrong, and we don't have our first female president?"

"Your guess correctly. That permatanned Oompa Loompa that tried to ruin our second wedding day managed to convince the half-witted redneck assholes of middle America to vote for him in their droves. It makes me so mad to think that they could be so dumb, but in the end, they will probably be the ones that suffer the most from the consequences. Still, at least daddy dearest won't be best pleased this morning either. Nick's dad was heavily defeated by Sue, and from what I can gather from the internet, he was even outpolled in the end by the Democrat. I am certain that after this, my dad will retire from the political world, and hopefully vanish completely with his next illegal wife." Dave nodded, and turned his husband round to kiss him properly; it would be no bad thing if his father-in-law did disappear.

Upstairs, the mood around the breakfast table was muted too, no-one even mentioning the result. Grace was still able to celebrate the fact that her father had been unsuccessful, and the fact that it had been shown that her mother was a highly effective political organiser. She would carry on that work for Sue now, running her offices in Ohio, whilst Sue sat in Washington DC. What her father would do now she didn't know, or indeed care. He had been so confident that he would win that he had quit his job. Now he would have to find another one; and given that his controversial views were now well known, that might be a lot more difficult this time…

To say that Mr Duval was livid at the result was an understatement. He had expected to be given the nomination unopposed by the local party branch, given that he had the personal backing of the man that was soon to be President; instead, he had watched it fracture as a result of the friction caused by internal wrangling over his candidacy. His personal belief was that that those that did not back him did not have the right to call themselves true Republicans; he had said as much at one of the last party meetings he had attended, much to the horror of his campaign manager. Hiring Mr Smythe had also been a massive mistake on his part, he now believed. He had turned out to be a weak man when it came down to it, not the determined and ruthless man that he had needed him to be. It was as if someone had something held over him, and had threatened to reveal all if he did not keep the tone of his rhetoric low key and impersonal. He had been better than useless, and had vetoed and trampled on so many of his perfectly good schemes. He would get his revenge though; he would ensure that the gun club rescinded his membership for a start…

As for his so-called family, who should have been there to back him up, regardless of their past differences, they had all turned on him, and made him look a complete fool. All he had ever done was try to protect them from harm, and ensure that they lived a moral life. It was fine though; he wanted nothing more to do with any of them in any case, particularly not his pervert of a son. As for his ex-wife, he would make her life difficult from afar, with constant phone calls and letter writing to the offices of the bitch that had defeated him in the congressional race. He would be back on the political stump soon enough; there was still the state government after all, and if he could secure a nomination in one of the areas that he could now see was pro-Trump, he could carry out his work for that great man there instead.

As Mr Duval raged against injustice, Sebastian's father was preparing to leave Ohio behind for a foreign holiday. When he had realised that his candidate had no hope of winning, he had booked a long vacation to the Virgin Islands for the day after the vote. He would be travelling there alone; unbeknown to his estranged sons, his relationship with the woman that he had hoped to make the fourth Mrs Smythe had come to an end after the candidate that he was publicly supporting had been particularly misogynistic. Such news had not made him as sad as it once would have done. He had come to realise during the election battle that his womanising ways had cost him dear. He would live with the shadow of his first wife actually being alive for the rest of his days, always fearful it would come out. Then there was the fact that he had lost all of the love that his sons could possibly have given him, and as a result, the adoration of a grandchild. No, from now on he was going to try and survive without a trophy wife. He couldn't risk any more scandal; if all of his past misdemeanours came out, he would find his world turned upside down, and the last things he had left, his money and his reputation would be taken from him. As he left for the airport, he started to consider whether he should move to the Caribbean on a more full time basis. Maybe he should search for a little place in the islands whilst he was there…

At Dalton, the news from Washington had little outward effect on the boys, but it was the talk of the faculty lounge when Thad went to garb a cup of coffee, having seen his house safely off to breakfast. On his arrival he found himself surrounded by his colleagues, all of them eager to know all that he could tell them about their new Congresswoman. He told them what little he knew, but made the point clearly that she would resist most of the things that they were opposed to coming in to law.

In his first class that morning, with a group of eager Juniors, he continued on with the curriculum, and the discussion of the role that the state and government had played during the Great Depression. He knew that the subject would raise a lot of questions, and that one in particular would come up - namely, what similarity was there between the promises that had been made then, and those that their new President had made in his campaign, and would they also be achieved.

"To be honest, boys, I am not sure," Thad replied carefully. "Our new President has promised a great many things to a large number of people. But there are a lot of paradoxes in what he has said; he wants to cut taxation, yet spend more on the military. You can't spend more than you have coming in, so where will the axe fall? He can't just borrow the money, given the size of the national debt already. In the age of the New Deal, things were different; there were fewer people demanding tax cuts, and a will to get things sorted. The New Deal was based on an infrastructure programme - and yes, Mr Trump also wants to build infrastructure. Problem is, there is so much that needs to be repaired and replaced before anything new can be built. The attitude of the people has changed to; back in the 1930s, if you wanted to build a new road, or a bridge, or a dam, you just went ahead and did it, more or less. Now they will have to jump through so many hoops it isn't real. Then, all people wanted was a wage that meant they could feed themselves and their folks; they wanted to work. Now they don't want to work hard, and they want more and more money so they can do more than just get by. Then the infrastructure priority was to build things to help modernise the country for everyone. Now, the priority is a border wall to keep the Mexicans out. Ask yourselves this; is isolating ourselves physically from our neighbours to the south, and ideologically from our neighbour, Canada, to the north, really the way to make a nation great? The spread of new roads, irrigation schemes, bridges, dams and electric power was back then. I shall let you decide for yourselves whether what we might be about to do now is as worthwhile…"

The question was the first of many that was asked in Dalton that day, as it was in schools across the country; like Thad, the teachers didn't really know the answer to it…

Not that far away from Dalton, the newly elected Congresswoman for Westerville was already beginning to prepare for her move to Washington DC. She would take up office officially on the 3rd of January, which gave her more than enough time to serve out her notice at McKinley. Her colleagues had been amongst the first to offer their congratulations on her success, although she did question the motivation and sincerity behind some of it; Figgins had seemed far too pleased for her liking. The Schuesters had been just right on the button though, and when Will had told her that she would be missed, she had believed every word he said was genuine. Emma had been her usual kind self, worried about what her departure would mean for her students, and especially the Cheerios, but she guessed that a certain Roz Washington would be only too pleased to take over there.

As for Coach Bieste, Sue was shocked to realise just how sad the other woman was at her imminent departure; after all, she had once seen her as her nemesis. If she was being totally honest, she was actually going to miss her too; she had become a friend, a worthy sparring partner in the constant war that was high school politics. However, she was well aware that she would be facing far better trained adversaries once she reached Capitol Hill; old, time served Congressmen and women, who would think that she might be easy prey in the dog eat dog world. She would have her enemies on both sides of the house to contend with; those of her fellow Republicans with an insane loyalty to the new President would try and wrong foot her, and the leaders of the house would try to force her to comply with their wishes, and make her vote blindly in favour of everything that he proposed. She would not do so, and that much she was certain of. She would also be opposed by the majority of the Democrats, who would take her allegiance to the opposition as a sign that she was the enemy. On that, they would be partially right…

She did however have the benefit of one friend of a sort in the rival camp. Burt Hummel had been watching the result in Westerville carefully from his own count, and the moment that Sue's victory had been confirmed, he had placed a discrete call to her, to offer her his congratulations. She had accepted them gracefully, and had also been more than happy for his advice on finding staff and indeed accommodation in the nation's capital. These bits of intel she had passed on to Mrs Duval, knowing that as well being able to count on her to run her operations here in Ohio, she would be only too happy to assist in setting up her operations in DC. For her part, she had already taken it upon herself to speak to the retiring congressman that Sue was replacing, and he had admitted that he had backed Sue to win as he thought she was the best person for the job. She would be able to use his existing staff, at least to begin with, which was an advantage; they were already aware of particular local issues, and were in situ in the office she would be occupying from the start of next year…

Burt had also suggested that as he was the guest of honour at a show that was taking place at McKinley just before Thanksgiving, they could arrange to have a quiet, off the record chat with each other then, to see where there common political ground lay, and how they could work together surreptitiously to derail the worst of the new policies before it could even build up the momentum it needed to become law. He did have a good point about taking advantage of the opportunity to talk when they would be in the same building with good reason; much as she had come to admire and respect the man over the years, he was now her political enemy, in public at least. It would not be to anyone's advantage to discover that the two of them had been in cahoots with a plan to keep Duval out…

In Washington itself, Trent and Rory found themselves living in a city that was in a state of shock. The result was the worst possible one for many that worked in the political sphere, and even ardent lifelong Republicans found that their current President was a better man than the one coming in that represented their own party. Trent went to college to discover that his first class of the morning had been cancelled, as the lecturer had been struck down with severe nausea. Many people seemed to be suffering from the same thing, with unhappy faces outnumbering those that seemed pleased.

Rory had no classes that morning, so he was spending his time writing a speech for Burt; one in which he accepted the wishes of the American people, but at the same time making clear his condemnation of the worst of the new regime's political statements and ideas. Trent had been a little jealous that Rory had been asked to pen that speech at first, but then he had realised that it would have to be mild and conciliatory in tone, and he was pretty certain that anything he had written that day would have been far too fiery for Burt to have made. In his second class of the day, Trent found the curriculum had been abandoned for a debate on the rights and wrongs of the Electoral College system, whereby all the votes of one state had to be allocated to one candidate. It was flawed, they all more or less agreed, particularly now that the information was coming out that the supposed loser had actually received a higher number of actual votes than the winner. Trent was sure however that the system would never be changed, at least not until the current President Elect was out of office. Hopefully, that would only be a very long four years away…

Having met up for lunch, Trent and Rory went their separate ways once again for their afternoon classes. Once school was finished for the day, they met up again at Burt's office, where to their slight surprise they found the man himself, looking over the speech that Rory had prepared for him that morning. "This is good, as your speeches always are, son. It conveys what so many of us are feeling right now, without getting me into hot water when I make it. There are just so many disquieting things going on already. There is a group that is already trying to raise the money to challenge the result in a few states where the vote was very close; there are others that are trying to persuade the voters in the Electoral Colleges that they don't have to endorse the result as they would usually do, if they feel it isn't in anyone's best interest. That attempt to overturn the result is a futile gesture I feel, and it won't get them the result that they want in any case. Like him or not, that man is our next President, and for the next four years a lot of us here are going to be fighting battle after battle. Healthcare is going to be the major one, and the irony is that many of the people that gave their vote to Trump will be the ones that lose out if he gets his way over the Affordable Care Act…"

Burt paused, then with a sigh continued. "This can't leave this office, but I have been advised that to get the money that he needs to build his wall and to increase military spending as he pledged, he will axe all Federal funding to the arts and culture. He is going to close down public radio, and get rid of PBS. He still won't be able to balance the books and deliver all that he has promised even then - and that is before the whole question of Russia comes to the fore…" Trent and Rory, whose faces had been struck with horror from the moment that Burt had announced the demise of art and culture now looked at the older man with curiosity. "I can't say anymore on that subject yet, but Russia is going to be big, and it is a subject that will dog our new President. If we are really lucky, and people are brave then we might even see an impeachment from it. Personally, I think that he will manage to wriggle out of it, to blame the entourage and say he knew nothing. Still, I think a lot of people will come to rue the day they voted for Mr Trump…"

"I think so too," replied Trent. "We just need to get the defences going now, and try and save all that is good. If he chooses to destroy culture, then how can he stand there and state that America is great? A nation is not just judged by the world on the output of its factories, and its trade deficit, but on the culture that it produces, its protection of its heritage, and on the place that it takes in the affairs of the world. A man that undermines that by attacking such things as NATO and the UN will only serve to diminish this country in the eyes of the world, and reduce us to mediocrity."

"I should put that in the speech," said Rory, looking at his husband with pride.

"I think that would be a very good idea," Burt responded with a smile.

As Rory found the best place to insert Trent's words into his already written speech, and the latter settled down to begin to work through the pile of correspondence that had arrived in the last few days, a group of angels watched them all from on high. They knew that some of their earth bound friends would attend protests and rallies as time went on, to express their opposition to the nation's new commander in chief.

They knew that from that day on, Puck would keep his fingers crossed when he was called upon to pledge his allegiance to the President, as he felt no loyalty to the man; in fact, the only thing was to see the man in question caught up in a friendly fire incident….

They knew that Isabelle had agreed with her fellow senior staff on a complete embargo on Melania and Ivanka Trump having any access to the Vogue closet, and had pledged that they would continue to support and promote any designer that refused to clothe the two women. Some designers had already made that pledge, and as one of them pointed out, Ivanka could always wear items from her own line of clothing. Isabelle was resolved that nothing from the KEH Collection would ever head their way. The only thing they could not do was prevent the two women being invited to and attending the big fashion shows, and Kurt had been startled to hear the amount of swear words that his one time champion felt capable of using to express her feelings over that…

As for the angels themselves, it was Wes of all people that bemoaned the fact that the new President wasn't on one of their lists yet, which meant that there was no assassination planned before his Inauguration Day. When he said it, the others had stared at him open mouthed from a moment, then had smiled, whilst trying not to appear too keen on the idea.

"Don't worry, Wes," Blaine said quietly, "When Kurt's mom comes to reprimand you for that statement, we will say that we know that you were under a lot of stress and are sincerely sorry for your inappropriate comments."

"Now Blaine, if you say that, then my mom will have to reprimand you too, as she will be fully aware that Wes isn't sorry he said it," Kurt chided, which made them all chuckle.

"I'm not sorry, that much is true. I am so worried; I mean, a lot can happen in four years. If no-one controls him properly; if they let him continue to criticise and condemn by tweet, then who knows exactly what will happen? There are so many things at stake for our friends, and I just wish that we could do more. I wish that I could be there, standing tall next to our friends as they protest against the chaos and destruction!"

"We all do, Wes. The good thing is that Nick has put a major problem for Mr Trump, right in the heart of his camp. Sue will not just lie down and obey. She will do all that she can to frustrate the man, and Burt will be there in the background helping her do so. I have a feeling that a lot of his plans will end up being defeated and coming to nothing, just as long as the opposition stays together and strong," said Blaine, with a smile. Sue Sylvester was for the first time in their lives the best hope that they all had for the safeguarding of the world that they knew…

The angels went their separate ways after that; the work of heaven never stopped after all. Wes did not head back to his desk though. He had somewhere else he had to go, someone that he had to check on, because although all of his boys were hurting because of the result, only one of them was physically. His arrival at the house was unnoticed, and he crept in silence to the room from where he could hear the quiet sobs. He stopped on the threshold, and nearly burst into floods of tears himself. He had seen his injuries before, but nothing like this... His nose was bloody and to his eye crooked; his bare chest marked with scratches and newly formed bruises, and the way that he was holding his hand made Wes wince. As Drew had surmised, Lucy had not liked the result one little bit, and had taken her outrage out on the only American she could find. If Drew knew Wes was there, he did not acknowledge him, not wishing to have that conversation. Instead he spoke as if to no-one. "I can't go home now even if I wanted to, and I do, I really do. She's destroyed my passport and driver's licence. She's burnt all my ID, all my papers. I couldn't get another passport now even if I begged at the ambassador's door. I'm stuck here, so I have to make the most of it. I don't think she'll kill me, because deep down, she loves me, as much as I love her..." Drew fell silent, his tears rolling once again. Wes felt his heart break, and he cursed that he could do nothing; he couldn't intervene. He could only watch and pray that somehow Drew could escape one day...