Chapter Two: Christmas Past

Brian was still sitting in the armchair contemplating everything when he fell asleep. He awoke, however, back in his bed, fully clothed and with a soft glowing light illuminating the room. When he was able to focus through his sleep tired eyes, Brian realized that it wasn't the room that was glowing but the small child who was standing beside his bed.

“I guess you’re the first spirit?” Brian asked. He felt silly talking to this glowing child who looked even younger than Gus.

“I am,” the spirit said. “Come.”

The spirit held out his hand and Brian reluctantly took it as he stood to his feet. Before he was even fully standing, they had moved through time and space and Brian recognized his childhood home.

“Shit, you had to bring me here, didn't you?” Brian muttered. “You know there were no happy memories here. If your goal is to make me see how great Christmas is, this isn't the way to do it.”

“Watch and listen,” the young spirit commanded. Brian found himself obeying in spite of himself.

There was a little boy sitting in front of the Christmas tree and staring with awe at the twinkling colored lights. Brian knew right away that it was himself at about three years old. Now he would consider the decorations tacky and garish, but then… they had seemed almost magical somehow. Brian vaguely remembered this Christmas. It was the first one he could remember at all. He had gotten a hand-knitted scarf from his grandmother that he had worn until it was too old and ratty to be called anything but a rag. But that Christmas it had been new.

“What are you looking at squirt?”

Brian almost missed Claire coming into the room. She had to be about seven years old and she sat on the floor beside the younger Brian. She looked happier and more carefree than Brian could ever remember her being.

“The lights,” young Brian said in his childish voice that reminded Brian so much of Gus a couple years ago. “Are they magic?”

“No, silly,” Claire said. “They’re just like any other lights. They turn on when you plug them in.”

“Oh,” young Brian said in a slightly disappointed tone.

“Just because they aren't magic doesn't mean that magic doesn't exist,” Claire continued. “Christmas is all about magic.”

“Santa’s magic,” young Brian said knowingly.

“Yes, he is,” Claire agreed. “But that’s not the most magical part about Christmas.”

“Really?” both young and old Brian said this together.

“Really,” Claire said. “The most magical part about Christmas is how it makes people be nicer to each other for just a little while.”

“Like Mom and Dad?” Brian asked. Even at three, he knew that his parents didn't exactly like each other.

“Sure,” Claire said. Brian could see a troubled look in her eyes that at three he had never noticed. “Like Mom and Dad. But also other people. Like when Mrs. Smyth brought us cookies for no reason, or when Mr. Jacobs helped that guy with the flat tire.”

“Cool,” Brian said.

“Just remember, Christmas isn't really about the lights or presents, Bri, no matter how pretty they are,” Claire said in all of her seven year old wisdom. “It’s about love and kindness.”

“I love you Claire,” young Brian said.

“I love you too squirt,” Claire said.

The scene seemed to fade a little and Brian turned to the ghost. “That was… I didn't remember her ever being that nice to me. But you should know that just because we had a nice moment once thirty years ago doesn't negate all the bad shit that happened before and after.”

The spirit nodded and Brian noticed that the child looked a little older now than he had at the beginning of their jaunt. The scene before them came back into focus and Brian saw Jack and Joanie had now taken over the living room. He was sitting at the top of the stairs, trying to see what was going on. He remembered trying to wait up for Santa Claus, but he didn't remember the fight that was currently taking place. It was just one of a thousand that happened over the years.

“You were out with that harlot again,” Joanie hissed, the accusation clear in her tone.

“What the fuck do you care,” Jack slurred belligerently. “It’s not like you’ll put out.”

“I’ll not take the chance of having another child with a drunken lout like you,” Joanie said. “Two was more than enough.”

“If you’d use goddamn birth control it wouldn't be an issue,” Jack told her. “Fuck, if you’d used birth control to begin with, we wouldn't have the two brats we've got now. Don’t go blaming me for that.”

“The church is very clear…”

“Fuck the church,” Jack said.

There was silence and Brian could see that his mother was giving Jack that stony glare she always gave whenever anyone said anything bad about the church.

“You should have just gotten an abortion,” Jack said. “Then we never would have been trapped in this sham of a marriage. You want to blame someone for this shit, then blame your fucking church. In the meantime, I’m not going to spend the rest of my life celibate because you’re a frigid bitch. I’ll fuck who I want, when I want. No apologies and no regrets.”

The scene went dark and Brian felt himself grow cold. He hadn't felt cold before, but now… he couldn't be sure if it was because they were traveling again or if it was because of the words of his father that seemed to echo through his head. ‘No apologies and no regrets.’ It was a credo he had built his life upon for so many years. He never knew that it had come from his father.

“Where are we going this time?” Brian asked the spirit. He had definitely aged since his first appearance in Brian’s bedroom. He now looked to be a teenager.

“Here,” the spirit said.

As he spoke, Brian realized that they had arrived outside the Novotny residence. Brian smiled as he saw the same tacky decorations that Debbie put up every year. They were a bit newer, but still the same. Brian followed the spirit around to the back yard and found himself and Michael as they had looked when they were fifteen years old. They were huddled against the garage and sneaking a cigarette.

“Ma’s gonna kill us if she catches us,” Mikey said.

Teen Brian shrugged nonchalantly. “So we won’t let her catch us. And if she does, just blame me. She always thinks I’m the root of all trouble anyway.”

“That’s ‘cause you usually are the root of all trouble,” Mikey smirked. Mikey took the offered cigarette and coughed quite violently after taking a drag. “I’m glad you decided to come over for Christmas. It was pretty awesome.”

“Better than staying in the war zone,” Brian said with another shrug.

“I wish you could live with us all the time,” Mikey said. “It would be really cool.”

“Not hardly,” Brian said. “Your mom hates me.”

“She doesn't hate you,” Mikey said. “She just thinks you get into too much trouble. She worries about you.”

“She’s worried I’m going to drag you down with me,” Brian countered. “She doesn't give a fuck about me.”

The back door opened and teen Brian hastily crushed out the cigarette. Vic poked his head out and called to them. “Get your asses in here, and go upstairs and wash up for dinner. Don’t let Debbie catch you smelling like smoke.”

Teen Brian rolled his eyes but he followed Mikey into the house. Vic kept Debbie busy in the kitchen while the two boys rushed up the stairs to clean up and maybe spray on some of Vic’s cologne to cover the smell of smoke. Brian finished first and headed back down the stairs. He stopped when he heard Vic and Debbie talking about him.

“Do those boys really think I’m that stupid that I don’t know what they get up to behind the garage?” Debbie huffed as she carried the food to the table.

“They’re teens,” Vic said. “They think everyone over the age of thirty is both blind and stupid.”

“Who’s over thirty,” Debbie said smartly and they both laughed. “Seriously, though, Vic. What am I gonna do with that boy? You’re gone most of the year, so you don’t see the bruises and shit. I could just strangle that boy’s father.”

“All you can do is be there for him,” Vic sighed.

“In the meantime, he’s gonna self-destruct if he doesn't wise up,” Debbie said. “I don’t want him to take Michael down with him.”

Teen Brian clenched his fists. He knew that Debbie meant well, but he hated the pity she had in her eyes every time she looked at him. But what was worse was that she believed that he wasn't strong enough to make something of himself. Brian went back up the stairs quietly and told Michael that he forgot that he had to be home and left the house before anyone could protest.

Brian recalled that Christmas vividly. It was Debbie’s doubts that had motivated him to be the best in school and get into college with an academic scholarship. It had been her pity that had taught him to put up a brave front and pretend that he was better than anyone else. He never wanted to feel the way he had on those stairs. He never wanted anyone’s pity.

As Brian watched it all unfold, however, he was surprised that the scene didn't shift when his younger self left. Instead, he watched as Vic and Debbie continued to talk.

“I think he’ll surprise you, Deb,” Vic said. “He’s going to be somebody someday. If for no other reason than to prove his father wrong. He doesn't need our pity or our judgment. He needs our support.”

Debbie nodded, duly chastised. “I suppose you’re right. That is one smart boy. Too smart sometimes. I still worry, though.”

“You wouldn't be a mother if you didn't,” Vic said as he kissed his sister’s cheek.

The scene finally faded and Brian found himself in the darkness once again, only the light from the boy, who was now a man, illuminating the night. He didn't bother to ask where they were going this time. He figured he would find out soon enough.

Sure enough, moments later, they arrived at the munchers’ house. Brian followed the spirit inside and saw that the only decorations were the Christmas tree and a menorah. It must have been the Christmas after they bought the house, Brian deduced. That had been the year he agreed to become a sperm donor.

Again, he wasn't present in the scene. Instead, Melanie and Lindsay were in the kitchen cooking. “I still don’t see why you want that asshole to be the father of our child.”

Lindsay rolled her eyes at her partner. “He’s not as bad as you think. And he’s got great genes. Besides, I think he’ll make a wonderful father.”

Melanie shook her head. “It’s your decision, but I still think we should go with an anonymous donor. It would be simpler.”

“But then our child would never know his father,” Lindsay said. “He would always wonder about where he came from. This way, I know Brian will be around. He may say that he’ll have nothing to do with Gus, but I know he’ll want to be a part of his life. He’s more sensitive than you think.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Mel muttered. “And he hasn't agreed to do it yet.”

“He will,” Lindsay said.

Brian snorted. Lindsay was so fucking sure of herself. But she had been right. He had agreed. He had believed, like Melanie, that he would never get attached to an infant, even if he did share DNA. It wasn't like he cared about his sister or his parents. No, blood didn't guarantee love. But then Brian remembered the night Gus was born, the way his son had looked up at him with total trust and he had been lost. How could he not love his child?

They traveled through time and space once again, but this time back to his loft. Only it wasn't the loft he had left just hours before. This was the loft of the past. There were a few Christmas decorations around and Brian knew exactly when they were seeing. There had only been one Christmas with decorations at his loft. Only one person had the balls to disregard his every derogatory remark about the dreaded Christmas season.

“Justin,” Brian murmured just as that blond walked through the door and turned on the lights of the Christmas tree. He smiled and hummed to himself as he changed clothes and then prepared dinner for two. Brian could not take his eyes off of the young man who had for a few brief months been his entire world. He walked over and wanted to touch him, but the spirit stopped him.

“He cannot see you or hear you,” the spirit said. He was now an old man and Brian could hardly see the child he had been not so long ago.

Brian nodded to acknowledge the spirit but he could not take his eyes off of the blond in front of him. There had never been another man who had gotten past Brian’s rules. He was the only man that made Brian want to believe in love and happily ever after. From the moment had seen Justin standing beneath the streetlight, he had been lost to the boy. And yet, he had not been able to accept the fact that Justin was the love of his life. He put up barrier after barrier to keep the blond at arm’s length. But Justin was persistent and had just kept coming back time after time. Every trick Brian tried, Justin brushed off like a horse swatting at a fly. Brian had sometimes wondered if Justin even noticed when Brian did those hurtful things to him.

Brian knew the moment when Justin spotted the note his past self had left for him on the nightstand in the bedroom. Justin stared at it with his face filled with fear and dread. The blond picked it up carefully, as though afraid it would burst into flames at any moment. He read it and all of the joy and happiness drained out of him; he ended up slumped on the edge of the bed looking like his best friend had died.

“I took off,” Brian said quietly as he sat as close to Justin as he could in his insubstantial form. He wasn't sure if he was talking to the spirit or to Justin. “I told him I don’t do holidays and just took off like I always do. He had everything planned and I didn't even bother to tell him I was leaving.”

Brian continued to sit on the bed beside Justin, who was now sobbing into his pillow. He wanted to hold him and sooth his grief. “I didn't know… He never said anything. I got back and he never said anything. He asked if I had fun. I told him about all the men I had fucked.”

“He knew that you were not ready to settle down. He loved you enough to wait,” the spirit said. Suddenly, the scene changed. They were still in the loft, but it was sunny out and looked to be late spring. Brian stood with the spirit in the corner near the window and watched the scene unfold.

Justin walked into the loft and smiled. Brian had ordered dinner for the two of them and was setting the table. It was such a domestic scene and Justin smiled. Brian might not realize how he felt for Justin, but Justin seemed to know. As he had once said, he was on to Brian Kinney.

“How was your day dear?” Brian drawled, tongue in cheek, when he saw Justin watching him.

“It was good,” Justin said. He kicked off his sneakers and sat his backpack near the loft door before heading over to join Brian at the table. He was a little nervous about telling Brian how his day really went and it showed in the way he fiddled with his chopsticks while Brian got himself a beer and Justin a bottle of water.

Brian handed Justin the water and looked at Justin’s tense shoulders. “It was so good that you look about as happy as Mikey did when I accidentally ruined one of his comics when we were kids?”

Justin sighed. “It really was good. Sort of.”

“Explain,” Brian ordered as he dug into his meal.

Justin set down his chopsticks and explained. “I was called into the office this afternoon. The principal and some guy that I had never met were there. Well, it turns out he’s from some sort of foundation that selects an artist each year and sponsors their education. They saw some of the work I displayed at the GLC and want me to be their artist this year.”

“That’s not good news, that’s great news, considering your asshole father is being a prick about paying your tuition to PIFA,” Brian said. Justin was still tense. “So, what’s the catch?”

Justin took a drink of his water. “There’s not really a catch. It’s just that they don’t simply offer a scholarship to the school of your choice. It’s a program that not only includes a college education, but over summer and winter breaks I would apprentice with some of the world’s master artists. Not just painters, but artisans and craftsmen and sculptors.”

“I’m still not hearing a downside to all this,” Brian said. “So where would you go to school?”

“The Florence Academy,” Justin said softly.

“Florence? As in Italy?” Brian asked with surprise.

“It’s one of the best schools in the world,” Justin said glumly. “I would be studying with some of the best instructors in the world, have access to some of the greatest museums, and apprentice with masters.”

Brian swallowed down his beer and closed his eyes briefly before turning a smile to Justin. “You have to accept.”

“I know,” Justin said. “It’s the opportunity of a lifetime, one any artist would kill to have. But…”

“Sunshine, we both knew that this wasn't going to be a permanent thing,” Brian said. “You have your whole life ahead of you. You still have things you need to do before you even consider settling down with one man.”

“Like?”

“Go to college,” Brian said. “See the world. Fuck as many men as you want. Make a shit load of money. Become the best fucking homosexual you can be.”

“And if I do all those things, I’ll be ready to settle down?” Justin asked in a rueful tone.

Brian shrugged. “What the fuck do I know about settling down?”

Brian watched from the corner as Justin watched his Brian. He knew that he didn't want Justin to go, but he also knew that it was what was right for him. Justin knew it was what was right, as well, though Brian liked to think that he hated the idea of leaving Brian just when things were starting to get good between them. Brian at 30 years old hadn't been any more ready to settle down than Justin was at 18. Brian had just begun to grow up. Despite the difference in their ages, in some ways, Justin was more mature than Brian. They both needed time to grow up if they were ever going to be more than what they were then. At least that's what Brian told himself after Justin was gone and he was drinking himself into a stupor.

“When would you leave?” Brian finally asked.

“The school year in Europe is a bit different than here. I’d have to leave in three weeks,” Justin explained. “It means I’d miss the prom and graduation. But the principal, Mr. Stewart, said I could take my exams early. He’s already planning on using this as some sort of proof of how great St. James is.” Justin snorted with disgust. “Like they were ever concerned for me or my art before now.”

“Shit. Three weeks isn't much time,” Brian muttered.

Justin stood up and walked around the table before planting himself in Brian’s lap. “I guess we’ll have to make the most of the time we have left.”

The scene faded and Brian noticed that the darkness they had been traveling through was beginning to lighten with the dawn. The old man’s light, however was beginning to fade. “We must hurry. I do not have much time left.”

They arrived at the Pittsburgh airport and Brian didn't want to watch the scene that he knew was coming.

“Take me back now,” Brian said. “I don’t need to see this. I remember it well enough.”

“You must see this,” the spirit said before he faded into nothing, leaving Brian standing there alone to watch the end of his affair with Justin.

“I’m going to call and write,” Justin said. “You’ll be so sick of me that it will be like I never even left.”

“If you call, I’ll change my number, and any mail will be sent back unopened,” Brian said firmly. “You need to forget about me Justin. You have a chance at a great life. You need to take it and never look back.”

“I can’t just walk away and forget you,” Justin protested. “I love you.”

Brian shook his head. “No you don’t. You just think you do. Love isn't real; it’s just an excuse people use to hurt each other.”

“Fuck that,” Justin said angrily. “I know what I feel. I love you, and you love me even if you’re too chicken shit to ever say it.”

“I’m not afraid,” Brian said, though he knew in his heart that he was. “I've never said it because I don’t love you. I felt sorry for you. Your dad kicked you out because of me so I took you in. But now your life is back on track. You have a chance at a future and I can go back to doing what I want without feeling guilty.”

“Fucking everything with a cock,” Justin muttered bitterly. “Fine, you do that. It won’t keep you from becoming a lonely old man, but whatever floats your boat. Don’t worry, I won’t call or bother you again.”

Justin turned and walked towards the security gate, his entire body was shaking with the force of his sobs but Brian couldn't look away. He watched Justin every second until he finally disappeared from sight. Past Brian continued to stand there for nearly an hour after Justin had gone. He couldn't quite bring himself to move. When he did finally move, it wasn't far. He went to the nearest men’s room and closed himself inside of one of the stalls and let his own tears finally fall.

Brian watched all of this and felt his heart breaking all over again. He shouted to The-Powers-That-Be, “What’s the fucking point of all this? Are you trying to break me? Well it’s fucking working!!” He felt his own tears stream down his face as the light faded and he was in darkness once more.