Instead of my usual nightmares, my dreams were filled with drawn out kisses and blue eyes, of strong arms and whispered 'i love you's.  As wonderful as those fantasies were, Scott wasn't the only one to make an appearance in my dreams. For the first time in years, I dreamed of my mother. 

It must have been a memory that had long been filed away to the recesses of my mind, and the details were still fuzzy, but the feeling was clear. She was singing some Christmas song while she flattened out a lump of cookie dough with a rolling pin. I mumbled along with every other sentence or so as I sloppily pushed my stocking shaped cookie cutter into my own sheet of dough.

I don't even remember the song, but I remember her voice and I clearly remember her face. She had the kindest eyes and the warmest, tightest hugs. She was amazing.

There was nothing really special or extraordinary about the dream, but I awoke with my fingers wound into Art's fur, and my face covered in tears. I wasn't sure if they were happy tears or tears of longing, but I guess it was a mixture of both. I was sinking in emotional quicksand, too many feelings yet none stable enough to keep me on solid ground. I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep again that night, but I couldn't just lay there either... I was too unsettled.

I slid my feet into my slippers and found my way to the kitchen. The house was eerie without the burning fires and Christmas lights that had made it so inviting when the sun slid beneath the horizon, but it wasn't hard to find my way. After all, I'm well acquainted with darkness.

It took me awhile to find the light switch and even longer to find the cabinet where the glasses were kept, but nothing compared to the fancy fridge. It had buttons and some electronic screen that just seemed like overkill for a fridge, but pretty much everything in that kitchen seemed overly complicated for its purpose. 

All I wanted was some ice. I tried opening the freezer side to see if I could get it out without using the ice maker in the door, but of course that would be too easy. I closed it again and regarded the useless symbols above the buttons as if they would translate themselves if I stared long enough.

"If you wanna jump in and help I'm up for suggestions... " I looked over at the pup who had, of course, stuck right by my side, but he just watched me with a single swish of his tail along the floor.

I tried one button but nothing happened. My next attempt just lit up some lights in the ice maker area. Then I tried button #3. I was pleased when ice began to fill my glass, but panicked when I pulled the glass away and it didn't stop. I tried pressing the button again but it only changed it from crushed pieces to cubes tumbling out and to the floor. I tried yet another series of buttons but nothing happened. I tried to find something to catch them, but I didn't get very far as I stepped down onto an ice cube and down I went. My vision swam just a little as my head collided with the floor and my ribs surged with the sudden impact, but Arty was nudging at my cheek with his nose between loud barks and I was too distracted to focus on the fleeting pain.  I tried to assure him, but he just kept on barking.

For some reason I just started laughing... and couldn't seem to stop until it transitioned into some strange amalgamation of tears and laughter.

On the plus side, the fridge stopped vomiting ice.

I sat up, sliding back to lean against some cabinets to try and get my emotions in check, but no matter what I did I couldn't stop my tears. I couldn't get Arty to stop calling for reinforcements either.

It was barely a minute or so before a very rumpled Scott was at my side and fussing over me. He asked if I was ok and I answered with a watery smile as my manic laughter finally began to wane.

"Mitch?" He tilted my head to the side to check some of my stitches and wipe at my tears,

"Your fridge is evil." I sniffled and turned away from his touch in order to swipe my sleeve across my eyes.

He stared at me for a second and then huffed. "Noted. Are you ok? What the hell happened?"

"I'm fine." I really was. It could have been worse, but my ribs were barely registering any more pain than I'd already been in and the only thing really wounded was my pride.

He didn't seem convinced and I had to bat his hand away to keep him from checking my other stitches. His brow furrowed again and I hated it. The sun wasn't even up and I was already ruining his Christmas.

"I promise. I was just trying to get some water and your fridge turned into a possessed demon and started spitting ice at me." I shot a look over to Arty who had been hovering close and nudged his nose into my cheek again. "You didn't have to sound the alarm, you know."

"Yes, he did." Scott rubbed the top of the dogs head. "He was being a good boy."

"I'm sorry I woke you up." I groaned a little in discomfort as I moved to try and get up. I tried to wave him off again as he tried to help, but he didn't listen and just lifted me like a rag doll and sat me in one of the chairs at the bar.

"Sit. And try not to hurt yourself, okay?" He tried to laugh it off as he grabbed some paper towels and began cleaning up the now watery mess on the floor, but I knew he was still worrying. He made quick work of the clean up and then passed off a treat to Arty before he came back to me, boxing me in with a hand on either arm of the chair.

"Alright, ... no bullshít. Are you ok? Do you need to go to the hospital or-"

"No. I swear. It wasn't that bad."

"You were crying."

"Not because of pain, just from... emotional instability."

"Well, that's so much better."

"I just... I dreamed about my mom."

"Oh."

He moved in a step closer and I wanted to wrap my arms around him, but instead I just looked at my lap to keep myself in check..

"Was it bad?"

I shook my head. "No. I think it was... a memory from when I was little. I haven't really... thought about her  in years. I just wasn't expecting it, I guess."

"Do you ever-" He cut himself off and shook his head. "Nevermind."

I wanted to encourage him to say whatever he was gonna say, but I wasn't sure I could handle it. What I really needed was happy, warm Scott. I really, really needed him. I lifted my gaze again, putting on what I hoped was a reassuring smile. "So, since your fridge hates me. Think you could help with that glass of water?"

He smiled, a little less brilliant than I'd hoped, but what could I really expect at 5 am. "You're lucky it's Christmas, or I would spend the next hour lecturing you on self preservation and your lack thereof.   You're a danger to yourself, you know."

I watched his back as he opened the fridge and pulled out a bottle of water. I wanted to roll my eyes at myself for forgetting about them. "Then I guess it's lucky I met you, huh."

I immediately knew I'd dream of that moment .. that fondness and that smile he aimed directly at me...for many nights to come.  I'd never forget it. Something changed between us in that moment. I couldn't quite figure out how to define it, but it didn't really matter. I acknowledged it, let it float comfortably in the silence. I accepted it.

"Come on, let's get you back to bed."

"No. I mean, I won't be able to sleep so... I was just going to watch TV for awhile? If that's ok. I won't be loud."

He nodded and gave me another once over while I sipped at my water. "You're sure you're ok?" 

I laughed. "Yes, Scott. I'm fine. You can go back to bed." I slid off of the chair and headed towards the living room, Arty on my heels as usual. I made myself comfortable on the chaise end of the couch and turned on the tv. I heard Scott move back down the hallway, but didn't expect him to reappear moments later with my pill bottle, a blanket and pillow in hand.

I looked up at him questioningly when he made Arty move from his spot next to me and tossed his pillow down into my lap, followed by the pill bottle.

"Take your meds." He flopped down, shifting until he got comfortable with his head on the pillow.

I couldn't help but chuckle. "Shouldn't you be in bed?!" 

He grinned up at me with the most beautiful sleepy blue eyes. "Gotta make sure you don't end up accidentally killing yourself, don't I?"

"Ha ha." I raked my fingers through his messy hair once before I even realized what I was doing and quickly withdrew them. I was about to apologize, but he just closed his eyes with a little smile lifting his lips.

I took my medicine to give my hands something to do so they wouldn't be tempted to make the same mistake twice and then settled in for A Charlie Brown Christmas and a lot of daydreams.

~

The rest of the day didn't exactly go as I expected it to. Not that I expected anything major to happen, but Scott spent quite a bit of the morning fielding phone calls from family and friends while I watched a parade on television and cuddled with Moriarty. I don't know why I expected to have to hide while people stopped by to visit, but I was surprised when that wasn't the case. 

He skyped with his parents while I was in the shower, but they were still talking when I emerged so I was careful to stay out of camera range. I could tell something was off with him the moment the call ended. He seemed very far away, and I gave him a few minutes to himself to just be alone with his thoughts, even if all I wanted to do was smother him in hugs just so he would smile again. 

Thankfully, he bounced back rather quickly and after we had breakfast, he and Arty decided to go running around like children in the snow that covered the huge back yard.

Scott begged me to join them, pulling out the pout and everything, but no. The cold and I have never really gotten along. It hasn't exactly been kind to me. Still, I couldn't help but stand by the glass door and watch as he tossed snowballs at Arty who would immediately try to bite them out of mid air. Part of me wanted to be out there, but the memories of trying to survive in that same unforgiving cold were still too near. Instead, I decided to attempt to make hot chocolate for when he came back into the warmth.

Eventually, after too many mugs of hot chocolate, we spread out on the floor of the living room and Scott placed some oddly shaped presents in front of Arty. The dog carefully ripped into each package, teeth pulling strips of paper and tossing them to the side as he revealed his new toys. Scott would cheer when each toy had been successfully extracted and Art would carry each one in a victory lap around the living room before dropping it in one of our laps so we could play with it with him until the other person would distract him with another shiny gift. 

My cheeks began to ache from smiling and laughing to much. It was an odd feeling, but one I was growing more and more used to.

After lunch, Scott set time aside to video chat with his sister. He was all smiles as one of his nephews squealed his name when he saw him on the screen (which sounded much more like 'duck' than 'scott' but it made his face beam like the sun itself). I was a bit hypnotized by the happiness radiating from the other man as he talked with the child, asking about the Christmas presents Santa had brought for him. It was hard to not be drawn in, and impossible to not be a little jealous of that connection, but I knew that despite the video chat, he still wasn't satisfied. That was why he got so distant once those calls ended. He missed his family.

After they said their goodbyes, he closed the laptop and kind of stared at the counter he had set it on. This time I didn't give him time to slide into despondency.

"Merry Christmas, Duck."

He shot me a look, but his smile slowly grew. "I think it's Tott."

"He looked a bit like you, poor kid."

He laughed and nodded a bit. He stared for a beat and I shifted a little under the scrutiny. "I'm really glad you're here, Mitch."

I shrugged one shoulder, hoping against hope that the blush I could feel climbing up from my toes wouldn't be visible. "Me too, I guess."

You have no idea how much.

He shook his head, amusement still dancing on his lips. "Go get your shoes on."

"Ok, bossy. Why?" I laughed.

"I'm taking you to the movies."

"Ooookkk?"

"C'mon.. It'll be fun. Besides, it'll probably be mostly empty."

I lifted my eyebrow and fought down a laugh.

He made a face and I tried not to take it personally. "That came out way more suggestive than I meant it to. I just...thought you'd like to ."

"Yeah, nothing says Merry Christmas like killer clowns."

He just rolled his eyes. "We can go see a princess movie if you want!?"

"Ok, Mr. 'Frozen is the best movie ever.'" I laughed, easing into this new level of friendship we seemed to be moving into

He just grinned, grabbed his laptop and headed towards the hallway. "C'mon, princess.. Let's go." He snapped his fingers and disappeared around the corner.

I looked to the dog sitting at my feet. "He's really lucky I like him."

He answered by heading to the hallway and stopping to wait for me.

"Oh, you're on his side. Great. I see how it is."

"COME ON MITCHY!" Scott yelled from down the hall.

I laughed and followed my four legged friend. It wasn't the Christmas I had imagined, but I spent it with him.  That was all I could have ever asked for.