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This was the year. Months of preparation had led to this, and Gerard was determined – nay, he was certain – that he would meet Santa. The real one, not those cheap mall knock-offs. Gerard had been waiting for six years! That was a really long time! This was totally his year, especially since he had Mikey to help.
Plus, he totally had a plan.
He’d painstakingly drawn his steps out with crayon on the back page of Mikey’s coloring book and made Mikey help revise them. Mostly, Mikey had giggled; his heart was totally in it, though.
“Step One, milk and cookies,” Gerard recited, staring at the end-table by the Christmas tree.
“Check!” Mikey chirped from the overstuffed armchair.
“Step Two, stay up.”
“Check!”
“Mikey, we’re not staying awake yet,” Gerard muttered, careful to explain it because Mikey was little and didn’t understand.
Mikey kicked his socks off from under the blanket Mom had given them when she’d gone to bed. “But we’re awake. That a check! See, Gee! My awake.”
When Gerard turned around, Mikey was holding his eyes extra wide like a cartoon character. Giggling, Gerard climbed into the chair with Mikey. “You’re weird.”
“You are,” Mikey countered.
Wiggling around, Mikey tried to make room in the chair. Gerard ended up half on top of Mikey, who was wedged into the corner.
“Stop squirmin’,” Gerard whined.
“Uh uh,” Mikey countered.
It took a few minutes and one yelled “Boys!” from Mom to get them settled in. Mikey was mostly sideways, feet tucked under Gerard’s thighs and knees digging into Gerard’s side. Gerard gave up having his own space and scrunched himself as tight into the opposite corner as he could get. The room was a little cold so it worked, sort of. Seat-sharing meant blanket-sharing, and it only took a few minutes for the chill to wear off and the pleasantly warm feeling of being tucked into bed start to set in.
Gerard’s eyes were dropping from trying to stare at the dark window through the haze of twinkle lights. They’d been forbidden the overhead light for some reason.
“Mikes. Mikey, hey. Hey, Mikey,” Gerard muttered
Mikey whined. “Wha’, Gee?” His eyes were squeezed shut against the blinking tree lights.
“Step two, step two!”
“My is awake,” Mikey promised.
“Not really,” Gerard pouted.
This would be so much easier if they could watch TV, but that was banned. Mom said if the TV was on, Santa would think someone was awake and wouldn’t come. Gerard didn’t want to risk it.
“Hey, hey. I’ll tell you a story!”
Mikey cracked his eyes open, squinting at Gerard. “’Kay. Tell me ‘bout Santa C’aus.”
“Hmmm.” This was going to be harder than Gerard would have thought.
They’d totally done all the research, right. All the movies had been on so they’d watched everything from Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer to The Year Without a Santa Claus. Gerard wasn’t sure he had any stories.
Except.
“Okay, righ’, yeah. Okay, so,” Gerard wriggled around until he could see the Christmas tree.
Mikey curled up, pulling the blankets closer, and nodded. The nod was the sign he was ready to listen to whatever Gerard could come up with.
“Ever’ year, Santa goes all over the world in one night,” Gerard started.
“Duh. My knowed that.”
Gerard glared at Mikey before going on. “But do ya know how he does it?”
“He has help. Like Rudolph and Comet,” Mikey added, confident.
“Well, yeah,” Gerard sighed. Mikey was being way too difficult for Christmas stories. “But the reindeer, they just, like, help with lights and landing and stuff. And getting Santa back. ‘Cause it’s like when we went to Gramma’s house on Thanksgiving. He’s got to be places by certain times! But he can get home whenever he wants.”
Mikey hummed, sort of. Whatever; it meant he was paying attention.
“So Santa gets help. From the Flash,” Gerard declared. Now that he thought about it, it actually made sense. “So on Christmas Eve, the elves get the sleigh all loaded up. Santa checks his list again, and they wait. And the Flash gets there, and Santa has, like, this list of where he needs to go. So the Flash gets him everywhere. He’s a little slower than usual ‘cause there are all the reindeer and presents and stuff. But it totally helps. Santa used to never finish on time, but that was super long ago. And nobody talks ‘bout it, cause it makes Santa look bad, and it wasn’t his fault or anythin’.”
When Gerard finally stopped for a breath, Mikey was supposed to ask questions. Mikey always asked about Gerard’s stories. But, no. This time, Mikey just sat there, like a really warm rock, and didn’t say anything.
Gerard frowned. “Mikey?”
Turning a little, Gerard got a look at Mikey, sleeping and sort of drooling on Gerard’s shoulder. It was pretty gross, but Gerard totally sneezed on Mikey that one time and got snot in his hair. This was revenge or something.
“Always messin’ up my stuff,” Gerard told him. Mikey kept sleeping without acknowledging Gerard’s complaints.
Little brothers weren’t good for much. Especially very serious plans about meeting the real Santa. It was probably because Mikey had only been waiting for three years and didn’t really remember the first one, anyway.
Gerard’s story was good for nothing now, so Gerard sighed. He settled back into the chair, Mikey sinking with the cushions and rolling closer to Gerard. Gerard patted him on the arm and tugged the blankets up, staring toward the windows.
Straining his ears, Gerard tried to hear any sign of reindeer, sleighs, or the Flash. He finally thought there might have been something.
Tiny clicks and clinks were coming from somewhere, which must have been the roof. Reindeer hooves clicked; songs said so.
Gerard tried to force his eyes open, to struggle out of the blanket cocoon he and Mikey had stumbled into. Seconds later, his eyes were closing again, too heavy for Gerard to keep them open.
The last thought he remembered having before he missed out again was that Santa and the Flash must be in league with the Sandman, too.
And that was not playing fair!