An ice-cold chill woke Brian up from his restless sleep. He knew instantly that Justin, fake or otherwise was already gone. Was he ever really even there? He wasn’t sure he wanted the answer.

Sitting up, he saw a black hooded figure in the corner of the room.

“Christmas future, I suppose?” The hooded man nodded. “Well, let’s get this over with.”

The figure put a skeletal hand on Brian’s shoulder and they blinked away. He recognized the house as the one Emmett had been in. Unlike before there was no tree, no decorations, not even a bit of mistletoe. It didn’t look like Christmas Eve at all. The man from before was sitting at a computer desk typing away, his face solemn.

Emmett walked in, his usual swish visibly absent.

“Hey, hon, I was thinking we could stay in and spend the night together,” the man on the computer said.

Emmett looked up, his mouth in a hard line. “I’m visiting the kids,” he said, his voice dropping.

“Em, please don’t do this to yourself. They won’t let you see them.”

“I have to try.”

“Why? So, they can have something to use against you in court. I hate to say this, but I think it’s time we should just drop the whole thing.”

“No, I promised those kids I wouldn’t give up on them”

“Em, even Lisa said it was time to just drop it. Maybe if we support her, she’ll be able to get them out of foster care.”

“An eighteen-year-old kid is more responsible than two fags, right?” Emmett snapped.

“What happened? I thought they were close to adopting all those kids?” Brian asked.

The figure didn’t say anything, and his hand clamped down on Brian’s shoulder again.

They blinked into a house Brian didn’t recognize. It didn’t look like any place he had ever been. It was dilapidated and dirty. There was no sound except the whimpers of a child. Brian found the source. A five or six-year-old shaking the clearly dead body of Blake. There was drug paraphernalia all around him. The boy started to cry harder.

“Daddy, please wake up. I’m scared. Daddy.”

“The baby?” Brian asked the hooded figure.

The figured nodded and then pointed at a piece of mail that was laying on the table. Brian was able to pick it up and read it. It was an eviction notice by one Brian A. Kinney. The date to be out by was Christmas Eve.

“I wouldn’t. Not to Blake and Ted’s son.”

A loud pounded on the door sounded. “Sherriff’s Department,” a loud voice yelled.

“Daddy, wake up.”

Suddenly the door opened and Brian along with four sheriff’s deputies walked in. He was older, but the thing that he noticed the most was his face, it was completely void of emotion.

“Uncle Brian, Daddy won’t wake up,” the boy said, running to Future Brian.

Future Brian looked down at the boy with disgust. “How many times do I have to tell you, I’m not your uncle.”

“He’s dead,” one of the cops said.

“What do we do with the boy?” another asked.

“He has no living family, call the CPS,” Future Brian sneered.

“No, I would never do that to a child. None of this is possible,” Brian said. It couldn’t be true. He was an asshole, he’d fully admit that but to do this, it wasn’t him.

“I want Auntie Em,” the boy cried.

“Does he have an aunt we can call?” the first cop asked.

“No, it’s just some old queen. I want him and dead boy over there out.”

The cops exchanged a look but didn’t say anything more. Future Brian left, leaving the crying boy.

“Damn, that was harsh,” second cop said.

“That was Brian Kinney. He used to be an alright guy, a little of a workaholic until his company was taken over and he was put out to pasture. That was when he decided to buy up most of Pittsburgh, and become a slumlord,” first cop said.

“What are we going to do about the kid?”

“What else can we do, call the social worker.”

The skeletal hand surprised him a moment before they blinked away.

It was Ben and Michael’s house. There was Christmas music playing in the background.

“At least, Michael and Ben are alright,” Brian said.

A twenty-something year old, with a body that showed years of gym use, walked through the living room.

“Who is that?” Brian asked. He didn’t expect an answer from the hooded man, and wasn’t disappointed.

“Sean!” a voice yelled before an elderly Michael walked into the room.

“What?” the other man asked, his voice filled with venom.

“I was wondering if you would like to go out to dinner tonight?” Michael asked, his feet shuffling some.

“Why in the hell would I? Just letting you touch me turns my stomach. I only do it for the free home and board. Dates though, are out of the question. I would be a laughing stock.”

“I thought we had something,” Michael said sadly.

“We do, you have this place, and I have a nice body. Not that you can get it up anymore.”

“I just want to talk and have company.”

“You want company? Get a dog. Hey, or maybe find a man your age. You won’t though, too worried they’ll croak like your husband.”

Brian watched as his best friend was berated by this young asshole.

“Why is he letting him talk this way to him?”

Brian shook his head, he knew why. Michael had gotten extremely lucky with Ben. If it wasn’t for him he was a good target for abuse. He was used to bowing down to a domineering mother and Brian. Damn.

The next thing he knew he was in a large house, a forty-something year old Gus was standing by someone’s bed.

“It’s okay, baby, I understand,” a frail elderly female voice said.

Brian stepped closer and noticed Mel laying on the bed, her body weak and tired.

“Mama, I can’t leave you. Not when you’re this sick.”

“You’re needed elsewhere.”

“I’m needed here.”

“Gussy, my sweet Gussy. I’m tired. I want to see your mother again. My family. You can’t let your father take the shelter away from all those kids. You’ve worked too hard for it.”

“Fuck him, he’s no father of mine. He’s never cared about me. I don’t really believe he ever had a heart, I sure never saw evidence of it.”

“Oh, Baby, he had one. He just got so wrapped up in his grief he forgot to live. Then when the one thing that got him through that time was taken away from him, he stopped caring all together.”

“Even about me?”

“I don’t think so, but he let his pain overrule him.”

“I wish he never met Justin the night I was born. I wish he had been my father, I wish he had been a part of our lives. I wish he hadn’t kicked Blake out of his home. I wish Theo hadn’t been lost to foster care never to be heard from again. I wish he would have helped when Mom got sick. I wish he would have helped when Emmett begged for help. I wish so many things but it all started with him meeting that man the day I was born.”

“Sunshine. We were all better for having a little sunshine in our lives. I think your dad just got lost in the dark without the light.”

“He’s shutting down the homeless shelter right now because he knows I want to be here with you. He’s no man, he’s a monster.”

Mel’s hand reached for Gus but after only getting halfway there, fell back to the bed. The life left her eyes, leaving a sobbing Gus.

“No, I would never hurt him like this,” Brian said, shaking his head. The skeletal hand came down on his shoulder again and they blinked away again.

This time he had to ask no questions about where they were. A cemetery, a casket was being lowered into ground. Besides the workers lowering the body, there was only a single person. A woman dressed in black, her face solemn but she wasn’t crying. The cemetery was familiar, the area where he was standing was familiar. He looked over and saw Justin’s grave next to the one being buried. He had meant to buy that plot for himself but kept putting it off. Then about forty years ago he found out it was already sold.

“Miss, is there anything you want to say?” a man in a suit asked.

She was older maybe around sixty. Familiar but as hard as he tried to place her, he was unable.

“Yes, thank you.” She threw a single red rose into the open grave onto the casket. “Brian, you were a mean bastard these last forty or so years. I get it, I truly do. Maybe that’s why I couldn’t let you be buried in a pauper’s grave even after your own son turned away. Justin would have wanted me to make sure you had a proper burial. But I don’t blame Gus, you seemed to make it your goal in life to make everyone as miserable as you.  You would think a man with the money you had would have made a plan for his death. I guess you thought you were too ornery to die. I hope you finally find the peace you have been seeking.”

“It’s Molly,” Brian said, realizing who the woman was. She was a girl the last time he saw her, no older than thirteen. He turned to the hooded figure. “What can I do to change this? I still have time to change, don’t I? I still have time!”

The figure grabbed his shoulder and he was back at his house. What surprised him even more, Ted was there also, his young spirit self. “What are you doing here?” Brian asked.

“Christmas Past has given you a gift, don’t waste it.” With that he was gone. 

The phone ringing woke him up, Brian groaned and grabbed it. “Kinney,” he sleepily muttered.

“Daddy!”

“Gus?” Brian shook himself awake. Gus was an adult, not a little boy. But why did he sound like a little boy?

“Silly Daddy. Mama said to call you and tell you happy Fourth of July.”

“It’s Christmas,” he said, his brain sluggish.

“No, it’s not. It’s Fourth of July. Mama said we can watch the fireworks on the TV.”

“Gus, can I talk to your mama?” he asked.

“Okay. MAMA, DADDY WANTS TO TALK TO YOU!”

Brian moved his ear away from the phone. His boy was loud.

“It’s noon, Brian. If he woke you up from your late-night partying, that’s on you,” Mel said, evenly.

“Gus seems to think it’s Fourth of July.”

“What are you on, Brian? Of course, it is. Haven’t you been listening to Justin go on about it. If he has been talking to you like us, you know he’s excited to see the New York firework show. He promised Gus to videotape it. I do hope he gets to go and his boss doesn’t make him work tonight.”

The words of Ted came back to him. “Christmas Past has given you a gift, don’t waste it.”

“I gotta go, I’ll call Gus later.” He hung up. That was when he noticed he was in his loft, not the house he moved into after Justin was killed. He had time to save him, he did. If he saved Justin, none of what happened would transpire, at least he could change them too.

Witnesses said that it was just after seven that the man killed Justin, it was just after twelve o’clock now. Was this real? Was it another dream? What if he did everything and it was all a dream? Was he willing to chance it? Yes. The answer was yes. He would chance a hurricane to save Justin.

Brian first tried to call Justin, no answer. Then he called the bar, they had acted like he was insane. All the flights were booked solid so that just left one option. Driving. Just outside of Pittsburgh his car sputtered to a stop.

“NO!” He hit the dashboard. It was like the forces of evil were working against him. He called Michael, Ben, Emmett, Ted, Debbie, Carl, Jennifer, Cynthia, Blake, Daphne, no one was answering their phones. He then called every cab company and car service, they didn’t have anyone until it was too late to save Justin. A crazy insane thought came to him. And the words from earlier came back again. “Christmas Past has given you a gift, don’t waste it.”

After a moment, he remembered the number and dialed.

“Hello,” a hesitant voice said.

“I need help.”

“What do you need?”

“I need a ride to New York.”

“Where are you?”

“Penn-Lincoln Parkway.”

“I’m on my way.”

“Claire?”

“Yes?”

“Please hurry.”

He had a little over six hours to get to his destination. It was about a six-hour drive give or take. After he disconnected, he tried Justin again, no answer. He called the bar again but this time they hung up on him right away. He had to get there on time.

Claire pulled up a little later in a minivan. His eyes widened when she got out. “You’re pregnant?”

“What gave you that idea?” she asked dryly.

“Okay, dumb question.” She looked to be about eight months pregnant. Brian vaguely remembered that she had a younger daughter, but he had never met her. This must be when she was pregnant, and he never knew. “Can you drive this far?”

“Nope, but you can. I’ll just ride shotgun.”

She walked over to the passengers’ side and slid in. He got into the driver’s seat. “So, little brother, why are we going to New York?”

“It’s a long story.”

“We’ve got six hours to kill.”

Five and a half hours later, he was going out of his mind. Seven o’clock was coming soon. After telling Claire about his supernatural blasts from the past, present and future, and that this was still the past, she seemed to be a little wary. That didn’t stop her from trying to call Justin, or anyone in New York that could help. It was like the universe was working against him.

“We’re never going to make it,” he said, as panic set in.

“We will. We have to, there is no other option.”

Early in the trip she apologized for not talking to him when John made his accusations. He had told her that it still bothered him but at least now he understood to some extent, he just wished she would have tried. She told him she hadn’t believed it when John told her and their mother. But Joan had got into her head and made everything jumbled until she believed it too. That sounded like St. Joan.

It was four minutes after seven by the time they pulled up outside the bar.

“G0! I’ll park it. GO!” Claire yelled.

He didn’t need to be told twice, he threw the van in to park and jumped out. Running inside the bar, he made his way for the bar. Justin came into view but so did the man who killed him. Without thinking, Brian tackled the man. A knife flew out of his hand, the man fought to get the knife back. It was no real fight because he was drunk and uncoordinated.

“Brian, what the hell?” Justin said, looking at the scene in front of him.

“Hey, Sunshine. I want you to come back to me. To Pittsburgh.”

“Well, you could have just called me,” Justin said, a smile on his face.

His phone went off, waking him up. “NO NO NO.” It couldn’t have been a dream. It couldn’t. Grabbing the phone, he answers, his voice raspy with emotion.

“What?”

“Hey, Dad. I was just calling to say Merry Christmas.”

Gus, adult Gus. The Gus that was in his present. “Not Fourth of July?” he asked, his voice breaking.

“Of course not, Dad. Are you alright?”

“Yeah, never better,” he answered, a tear escaping his eye. He had known it was too good to be true.

“I got to go, I’ll call you back soon. I promise,” he told his son. He didn’t want to break down on the phone.

“Sure, Dad. I love you.”

“You too, Sonny boy.”

He sat there in the silence for what felt like years. He couldn’t shut himself off. That was what caused all the trouble. He would grieve but care about others. He needed to check on Blake and the baby. Then see what he can do for Emmett and the situation with the kids. Maybe he would be able to help him with the adoption. But first, he needed to check on Claire in the nursing home. She couldn’t be dead. That had to be a lie by Christmas Present. Right?

Just as Brian opened the bedroom door the smell of cinnamon and bacon rose up to him. What the hell? More steps, he could hear laugher, children’s laughter. He followed it to the kitchen, where his heart studdered in his chest. Justin was there, older but beautiful, he was cooking breakfast. Two children were giggling at the table. A boy of about five and a girl of about eight.

“Daddy!” the boy said, as soon as he saw Brian. “Papa, Daddy’s awake, that means presents right?”

Justin laughed. “No, we have to wait until Auntie Claire gets here. She’s bringing Maggie.”

Both kids squealed with delight.

“Maggie?” Brian asked.

Justin laughed, his beautiful laugh. “I knew you and Ted worked too hard last night. I know the account was important but remember what the doctor said. Ted has to watch his stress. The heart attack last year could have been way worse.”

“Ted?” Ted was alive? Impossible, he had a massive heart attack, he was dead before Brian was able to call for help. Of course, Justin being alive was impossible too.

“Here, have some coffee, you need to wake up.” Justin handed him a cup filled with hot black coffee. “You’ll need it. Ted and Blake will be bringing Mary and Theo a little later.”

“Who is Mary?”

“Brian, did you hit your head? Do you want me to kiss it and made it better?”

“Eww,” was chorused from the table.

“You two hush.” Justin walked over and put his lips Brian’s lips.

It was like a lightening bolt. Memories he knew he never had before rushed his mind. Claire going into labor in the van. Them having to rush her to the hospital. Maggie’s birth had been quick and traumatic. Somethings a brother should never have to see.

Justin and Brian getting married, finally. Claire had been there. Claire and Justin got on well after he forgave her. One day he came home, and Justin was bursting with excitement. Brian knew he should have run right then. Their idea was to harvest Claire’s eggs, that way they could have a child that was blood related to both of them. He was adamantly against it. So, of course it happened. Natalie was born using Claire’s egg, Justin’s sperm and a gestational surrogate. Three years later, Samuel was born using a fertilized egg from the same batch as Natalie.

Because Brian wasn’t working Ted to death, Blake and Ted had their children earlier. Mary was there oldest daughter at fifteen and Theo was a precocious seven-year-old. Emmett’s brother, Terry had died leaving a bunch of orphaned children. None of his other brothers or sisters had room for the children. Emmett had just officially adopted them, with Brian helping with paying the lawyer.

Mel and Lindsay didn’t stay in Canada, they moved back when the prop was demolished. Gus loved his brother and sisters. He was in his last year of law school, taking after Mel. Brian had to bite his tongue on that one.

He had gotten what he had wanted, needed. How? He didn’t know. He didn’t care either. It could be aliens, that was alright with him. He wouldn’t waste it either. Never again.

“Can we open one present?” Sam begged.

“What do you say Dad? One present?” Justin asked.

“One present, that’s fine. But for me, I’ve got everything I need right here,” he said before hugging Justin to him.

“Geez, Brian, don’t you think it’s too early to be drinking?”

“Shut up you little twat, I’m being sincere.”

“Daddy said twot,” Natalie said.

“What’s a twot?” Sam asked.

“Daddy said Papa’s a twot.”

“No, Daddy’s said I’m a twat. Wait, why I’m I correcting this? No presents,” Justin said, glaring at Brian.

Brian smiled, he didn’t know why Christmas Past gave him this gift, but he would be forever grateful. Not only for giving him Justin back, but Ted and the rest of his family. And giving him a family he never knew he wanted. And a family he thought he left behind in childhood.

“Merry Christmas everyone,” he said smiling.

“Okay, give me your flask,” Justin said.

The End.