Work Text:
Her sadness was killing him.
It was not obvious. She did not sound listless or sorrowful. She did not want anyone to know and she was good at hiding it. Everyone would buy her smile, but not him. He was too good at reading her. He could tell that her moves were not as quick as usual and that her voice was quieter. He knew she was faking every laugh.
No one could notice it, though. Even feeling the way she did, there was always a smile on her face if there was someone around. Her strength and kindness would always impress him. After everything she had been through, she was still a happy and caring spirit. That was her nature. Her usual happiness, however, seemed to have vanished away during the last few weeks.
It was not like he did not know the feeling. He was a tortured soul too, regardless of the joy he had managed to keep in his life. Now he had a girlfriend who accepted all sides of him, a friend who had offered him another opportunity to fight together under the daylight, and a mother who was finding the way back to his heart.
But there was still sadness, and it was there to stay.
Christmas is a contradictory time. It manages to bring out the best in some people while it reminds others of all their open wounds. Tears live together with presents and seasonal goodness. People build an unreal bubble of warmness that fades away the moment the Christmas lights are taken off.
She had bought and decorated two Christmas trees (one for the office, the other one for us), sung a few carols along with Foggy during their lunch breaks (we may not sound that good, but who cares?!), and made Christmas biscuits for everyone who entered their office. She wanted to make sure everyone was happy, like she always did, but the moment he took her hand and they headed home, she lowered her head and sighed. They had not talked about it, but she knew he knew: all this Christmas happiness was a burden to her.
Behind her sweet voice and caring presence, Karen had her shadows too.
He took her hand to his lips and kissed it.
They walked silently, enjoying the snow flakes that kept falling on and around them and trying not to think of all the people’s rush and their shopping bags and their cheerfulness.
“I’m not going out tonight,” he said when they got home.
“How come?”
He just shrugged and kissed her lips.
“Let’s get changed and lie on the sofa. No work either, just you and me.”
She raised her eyebrows, questioning.
“We deserve it, babe.”
“No objections,” she answered with a smile.
“Do you want some hot cocoa?” He asked.
“That sounds perfect,” she added and walked towards their bedroom, turning on the lights of the Christmas tree on the way.
He could hear her melancholy from the kitchen. He imagined a ten-year-old Karen trying to find the presents her mom had bought. She was alive back then. And then her dad laughing as her mom would tell her to stop looking, they knew her too well to keep their presents anywhere near her. He still felt no resentment towards her. Her brother would be by her side, fighting his wish to help her and hoping she would find something that was meant for him. His eyes full of life and hope.
Matt knew how hard Christmas could be, there was no point in pretending otherwise. They had both buried too many people and they both felt they were the ones to blame. Nothing would ever change that. But they could learn to live with the living, as well as they did with the dead.
He filled two mugs with hot cocoa and put some marshmallows next to them on a tray. He had kept them hidden in his briefcase since he had come back from a quick visit to Sister Maggie that afternoon. He had not had them for ages, too many memories, but he thought that could be the perfect day. Embrace your grief, for there your soul will grow, he had once heard. There was no point in fighting their memories, they were part of who they were.
“Do you want to listen to some Christmas songs?” He asked when he joined her in their bedroom to change his clothes. “I could sing a bit of my favorite one if you want.”
“You gotta be kidding me, I’ve been singing with Foggy all week long and now you want to sing?” She rolled her eyes.
He grinned at her and she shook her head and let out a soft laugh.
“Come here,” he said, walking to her, and she put her arms around him.
She rested her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes, rubbing her nose against his neck and taking a deep breath to smell the traces of the soft cologne she had given him for his birthday. He held her closer and, maybe for the first time that day, there was a real smile on her face. It always made her happy to feel his body so close to hers. He had this incredible ability to make her feel safe and at home.
Her hands went up and down his back, one of them taking its time at his nape. She made their hug last a bit longer to enjoy the feeling of his naked torso against her T-shirt, one of her hands moving towards his chest to feel his heartbeat. He loved it when she did that.
“Maybe you prefer to stay here?” He asked suggestively.
She shook her head.
“First the cocoa, then you,” she whispered, tapping her index on his chest.
He kissed her and told her to wait for him on the sofa.
She went there and turned his laptop on so that he could choose some songs to play.
“Marshmallows?” She asked as she sat.
“I wasn’t sure if you liked them,” he answered from their bedroom.
“I love them. So many memories…”
“I know. But you’ll tell me later,” he added and sat by her side, covering both of them with the blanket he had bought when she started spending her nights there, waiting for him. “First, the song.”
“What is it with that song?”
“Just let me—” he said, turning around to type some words secretly.
Soon the first chords of Fairytale of New York filled the room, and he was all smiles.
“I love this song.”
She observed him lovingly as he left the laptop on the table and passed her her mug. Then, he got his and curled up next to her. Their heads were immediately resting against each other, their breathing calm and their hearts at ease.
Then, for a few minutes, the whole world disappeared, and it was just the two of them. There was no danger, there were no fights, just some hot cocoa with marshmallows, a cozy blanket, and the sound of an old Christmas song.
You're a bum
You're a punk
You're an old slut on junk
Lying there almost dead on a drip in that bed
You scumbag, you maggot
You cheap lousy faggot
Happy Christmas your arse
I pray God it's our last
“Have you paid attention to the lyrics, Matt?” She asked, laughing after a while.
“Just wait,” he whispered, and she nodded.
I could have been someone
Well so could anyone
You took my dreams from me
When I first found you
”It does not get any better,” she insisted, laughing even more.
The whole week had been an emotional rollercoaster, but at least she could spend moments like this with him. She knew their lives were far from being perfect, they both had a past they could not run away from, and an uncertain future ahead, but holding each other’s hand and laughing together like that made everything so, so much better.
So she closed her eyes and kept listening to the lyrics of that unconventional Christmas song that Matt, such an unconventional Catholic, had decided to play for her.
I kept them with me babe
I put them with my own
And then, when she least expected it, he started singing.
Can't make it all alone
I've built my dreams around you.
The song kept playing and the sound of the tin whistle, the mandolin and the accordion kept filling the room, but the rest of the lyrics passed unnoticed to both of them. They were too busy kissing and making their present dreams come true.