Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Roberto’s up on the old wooden ladder he found in the garage when it happens.

He’s holding a string of Christmas lights, big old fashioned plastic red and green bulbs twinkling in the light of the setting sun.

He’s trying to loop the plastic wire around a small old nail sticking out from above the attic window. He leans forward slightly. The nails bent just a little, meaning he has to get the lights in precisely the right place to make it stay.

Unbeknownst to him, the bolt holding up one side of step he’s on loosens just a little.

He’s pretty high up, but he’d thought the attic window had looked a little sad, being the only one without lights.
He could have waited until Kimberly was home to spot him on the ladder, but he’d wanted to surprise her with Christmas lights and decorations.

He can’t quite get the plastic wire to stay on the nail with his mittened hands.
He leans forward some more.

The screw turns more, loosens. Just barely holding the two pieces of wood together

He’s almost got it, one hand braced against the siding, leaning, try to arrange the lights just so when-

The screw pops free of the ladder, falling silently into the snow.

The side of steps springs free, slips down.

Roberto freezes in shock letting go of the lights, and falls of the ladder.

He flails wildly and the ladder knocks free of the side of the house, and falls over onto its side.

It’s loud.

It must take milliseconds but it feels like he’s been falling for ages.

He’s falling. He’s in shock-there’s nothing below him but he’s too close to the house.

He reaches out one hand blindly for a window sill, for anything to grab on to.

The side of his head finds it instead.

His head hits the corner of the window hard. He’s unconscious before he hits the ground.

Half an hour later, Kimberly gets out of work.

She sends Roberto her usual text that she’s heading home.

The drive is typical.
The ladder strewn across the yard is not.

She marches through the snow over to the ladder and that when she sees -

“Roberto? Are you-“ She lets out a gasp.

He’s lying there in the snow, in his big puffy green coat and mittens.His eyes are closed tight.

There’s a smear of blood on his forhead, and small but steady trickle of crimson in the white snow.

It remind her suddenly horribly of the way that Roberto had described Clint’s dead body to her after the funeral. She’d regretted asking afterwards.

She leans down and desperately checks for her husbands pulse. She’d seen his ghost once, she hopes that’s not what’s she seeing now.

There. She finds it.

His pulse is strong steady, his skin warm. He’s alive. Her husband is alive.

She grabs her phone, and calls for an ambulance.

She waits with him, there in the snow, in her works clothes. She tries to stem the bleeding with the bandaids in her purse.

The ambulance arrives, blue and red lights against white snow.

He’s lifted into the ambulance. The workers asks her medical questions. The trip to the nearest hospital is a blur.

There’s waiting and doctors and nurses who hook Roberto up to machines.

He’s still unconscious. She holds his hand. Traces his wedding ring with her finger.

She texts Clint. He responds almost immediately.

A few minutes later he’s there, in the hospital, still in his work clothes.

“Kimberly!” He hugs her. He’s out of breath even though he’d teleported. She hadn’t realized ghosts could still get panic attacks. “Is Roberto okay?”

“The doctor said he has a concussion, and he doesn’t know when Roberto will wake up.” She feels exhausted, and like crying, but she’d been so scared that it would be something worse.

“Is there anything I can do?” Clint looks more stressed then she ever seen him, fidgeting with his green jacket.

“I don’t know if there’s anything we can do but wait for him to wake up.” She wishes there was more.

“I mean anything I can do for you. I can teleport, I could stuff from the office or your house or food or something-“

“Oh.” She had forgotten, in the moment, that he was dead. She tries to disconnect that feeling of grief from this kind offer. “A pair of jeans and a sweater would be great, my laptop, my phone charger. Food would be wonderful, I’m starving.”

“Will do.” He smiles, quick and brief. I’ll be back, just call me if he wakes up.”

He comes back fifteen minutes later with everything she asked for and more including spare clothes for Roberto and food from from that fancy Italian place she always picks for dinner on her birthday.

She stays with Roberto all night in the uncomfortable hospital chair, just in case. She doesn’t sleep at all.

At seven the next morning, Clint walks in.

“Good morning,” he says gently. “I got you a muffin and an Uber. Go home get some sleep, Combe back in the afternoon, I’ll sit with him.”

“Clint-“

“He would want you to take care of yourself.”

“You’re right” she says. “Okay. Call me when he wakes up?”

“Of course.” He says, gives her another hug, tells her where the Uber is parked.

He settles into the chair. Several hours pass.

Clint’s not technically asleep when Present wakes up, since ghosts can’t actually sleep, but it’s about as close as he can get.

One of the machines next to the hospital bed starts beeping as Present tries to sit up, encumbered by the medical equipment.

Clint bolts out of the chair, and over to the side of Present’s hospital bed.

Present’s halfway upright, eyes wide, one hand pressed to the bandages wrapped gently around his head. Clint’s glad to see him awake, even though he knows this must be disorienting.

“Hey.” He says softly.

“Hey.” Present repeats just as softly, eyes roaming around the room and the medical equipment. “Where am I?”

Clint takes a deep breathe.

“You’re at the hospital. He says gently. “You gave Kimberly quite a scare when you fell off that ladder while putting up the Christmas lights.” At the alamed look on Present’s face, he adds “She’s fine, she sat here with you last night, so she’s at home taking a nap, and she’ll be back later.”

But the nervous look on Present’s face doesn’t seem to fade at all. If anything, he seems more upset. His breathing gets faster, in the background another machine starts beeping.

“Present?” Clint reaches for Presents hand in an attempt to comfort the other man, but Present pulls his hand away. “Are you okay? Do you want me to get the Doctor or something-“

“Who are you?”

Clint freezes.

“You don’t remember me?” It’s comes out a little smaller and sadder and more desperate then he means it to.

“I don’t-I’m sorry-“

“Ohh-kay.” Clint says drawing it out just to give himself a moment to think. He’s not going to make this about himself. He’s can’t, not after everything Present’s done for him. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

“I- I don’t remember anything. I guess-waking up here just now in this hospital?” Present looks scared, really scared, his eyes flitting nervously around the hospital room before landing back on Clint’s face.

Shit. Clint flounders for something, anything he could say to try to prompt his friend. He can’t think. He always feels so helpless in hospitals.

“Your name.” It might be a stupid choice but he panics, he just needs something. “Do you remember your name?”

“No.” He-Present? That’s what this man had called him. Nothing about it seems familiar, nothing in this whole room seems familiar, but he likes the sound of it. “But you called me Present, is that my name?”

But the man is already shaking his head. “It’s a nickname, based of off the title of your old job.” The man gives him a look like he thinks that will ring a bell. It doesn’t, and he must realize that , because he looks sad for a moment and then continues.

“Your name is Roberto C. Fishman Pratt.” The man says gently.

“Woah.” Roberto waits for a sense of familiarity or relief. Neither come.
“That’s a lot of names.”

“Yeah. I’m Clint.” Says the guy “Clint Briggs. We’re friends.”

Clint says something else but Roberto’s eyes are beginning to close again. His head is pounding, and the hospital light is burning his eyes. He can see Clint, looking alarmed and then hear him calling for a doctor. Then everything fades to black.

Roberto wakes up, slowly, to a doctor talking to him. The doctor needs to run tests, and they ask him questions he doesn’t know the answer too. It’s a blur, but he notices Clint there for most of it, answering the questions Roberto can’t make sense of. At some point the doctors leave. At some point Clint steps out for a moment, tells him that he’ll be back in a few minutes, pointing to a rectangular shiny box in his hand.

Roberto’s thinks he might have fallen asleep at some point, becuase it feels to him that Clint returns only a few minutes later, but this time with the most beautiful women that Roberto has ever seen.

“Hi, Roberto.” She smiles at him “How are you feeling?”

“Hi,” he says. He stills feels a little out of it, and also a little shy. “Hello.” He repeats. His vision swim a little.

“He’s still kind of out of it.” He hears Clint say to the beautiful woman.

“Do you recognize her?” Clint prompts motioning to the women.

Roberto shakes his head an instantly regrets it. Everything swims and swirls. He lets out a thin painted sound, closes his eyes and braces his aching head in his hands.

He doesn’t pass out. The world settles.

“I’m Kimberly, the doctors said you could go home tonight, so I’m going to take you home. I just need to go talk to the doctors, do you mind staying here with Clint for a few minutes?

“Okay, sounds good.”

“So, how did you like seeing Kimberly?”

“She’s so beautiful.” Roberto, grabs his arm, and stage whispers. “You have to introduce me to her.”

“Dude,” Clint smiles at him for a moment, but then the look is replaced with one of concern “she’s your wife.”

“She is?” Roberto stares up, disabelivimg. That beautiful women married to him? He finds himself smiling, until has lack of memories catches up to him. “But I don’t remember-“

“Were you listening to what the doctors said?”

“I couldn’t hear them.” He pouts. “My head was all fuzzy.”

“You have amnesia, your missing all of your memories.” “Don’t worry I’m going to fix it, I have a plan.”

“A plan?” Roberto doesn’t remember why but he knows that he trusts Clint.

“So, plans kind of a strong word for it, but basically the doctor said that doing familiar things might jog your memory, and that you can go home tonight. So I Kimberly and I ware going to get you home, and then try that tomorrow.” Clint smiles reassuringly.

“Oh.” Roberto says. “That sounds like a plan to me.”

Chapter Text

“Sorry I’m late! Rehearsal went late!” Clint barges into the house through the front door.

It’s the morning after Present’s stint in the hospital. Clint’s lucky that ghosts can’t be tired, since dance choreography stops for no man, even a brand new Ghost of Christmas Present.

“I called the brunch place on my way here, and they are apparently having an event right now, but they can get us in in about an hour, so I thought we could walk around town a bit? The chocolate shop should be open.”

Kimberly lights up from her spot perched on the couch next to Roberto. Roberto looks much better then he did last night at the hospital. There are no longer bandages wrapped around his head, and the injury itself has been cleaned up. He’s wearing one of his many, many Christmas sweaters.

“Brunch place?” Roberto asks, but he looks excited. “Is that part of that plan you had at the hospital?”

“Yes! Exactly!” Clint thinks it’s probably a good sign that Present is catching on this fast. He snaps his fingers a few times for emphasis.

“You love this place. It’s in town, and the towns all decorated for Christmas and the shop’s have gorgeous Christmas displays and so does the restaurant!” Clint’s been nervous about this plan, but the smile on Presents face reassures him. He is going to fix this, one brunch at a time.

Twenty minutes later, their walking down the sidewalk into the center of a very cute, small town square. There’s two little rows of shops with a green in the middle, complete with gazebo and benches.

Kimberly holds Roberto’s hand as Clint leads them down the street past several brightly decorated shops stopping suddenly in front a small squat chocolate shop and motions Roberto towards the display windows.

There’s a tiny ceramic village that resembles the one their in right now complete with replica shops, decorations and fake snow. Bright lights shine down on it, making the snow sparkle.

“Well? What do you think?” Clint prompts him.

Roberto isn’t sure what to think. He tilts his head trying to get another good look at the decorations. He’s not sure why this feels like a big deal. He just knows that it does. For reasons he doesn’t quite understand it is incredibly important that he come up with the perfect response to this question.

“It’s… nice?” It comes out almost like a question. “Bright and elaborate?” He tries again.

Clint looks at him, a question in his eyes he about to say something but-

PING!

He pulls one of those strange glass and metal squares out of his pocket- a phone, Kimberly had told Roberto yesterday.

“It’s the restaurant” Clint explains, after checking the screen. “The event ended early, they can get us a table now.”

The restaurant is practically empty when they get there.

The restaurant is nice, the main room large but cozy, with wooden floors and wooden tables, and wooden chairs with big comfy looking nice cushions. There’s large glass windows in the front, and a comforting arrangement of art and mirrors on the wall. They get a table on the opposite side from the bar, right next a large, highly, decorated plastic Christmas tree, with fake presents surrounding it and fake plastic candles clipped to its branches.

The restaurant, like his house and that chocolate shop, is heavily decorated for Christmas.

There’s even music, although the restaurant seems empty other than them and a waiter he had seen walking in. He nudges Clint as they follow the waiter to the table.

“Where is the music coming from?”

“Speakers,” Clint says. He must see the confused look on Roberto’s face because he clarifies. “It’s technology,” he clarifies, “like my phone.” “He listens to the music for a second. “Also, you love this song. It’s an instrumental cover of Jingle Bells. It’s Christmas music. Does it seem familiar?”

They sit at the table, Kimberly next to Roberto, still holding his hand, Clint acrossed from them.

“No, it doesn’t.” He feels the same guilt as every time he’s been asked something like this. He fiddles with his napkin.

Clint looks disappointed. Kimberly squeezes Roberto’s hand reassuringly, he squeezes it back gently.

“I’m sorry.” Roberto mumbles.

Now Clint looks guilty “You don’t have to be sorry. I’m sorry.” He sighs. “I’m not trying to stress you out, I’ll try to stop checking so much.

Roberto nods, still feeling bad, and shifts his focus to the menu.

“I think I might get the French toast.” Kimberly says, looking over at him.

“Do I usually get the French toast?” He’s trying to figure out when someone’s trying to prompt him towards something he supposed to recall. There’re s been a lot of that, lately.

“No, you usually get the waffles.” He looks down the menu. He wants to try something different. Maybe he’ll get the oatmeal it looks nice.

A bit of a silence falls over the table. He can’t tell if it’s comfortable or not. He searches for a topic of conversation

“You mentioned a rehearsal,” Roberto starts, trying to defuse the awkward silence. “What are you rehearsing for?”

“Oh, I’m in a show.” Clint says looking up from his menu “I’ve got a lead role, and it’s my first time being in the lead, and my first performance is coming up next week.”

“Maybe I could come and see you’re show.” Roberto says. He just means it as a polite off hand comment, a bit of small talk, but Clint’s eyes widen.

“No!” Clint says a little too loudly, sudden and surprised. Roberto stares for a moment startled. “I mean- Uh-“ Clint says “It’s not a live performance, it’s recorded with technology, there’s not really an audience or anything.”

The silence returns. The waiter stops by first for orders, then with food.

Roberto picks at his oatmeal. He doesn’t like the taste. Maybe he should have gotten the French toast or the waffles.

Clint looks stressed. “Okay, you don’t have to eat it, it’s fine, just forget it.”

Roberto doesn’t know how to respond, so he doesn’t.

“I’ll cover the bill.” Clint says suddenly, when the bill comes, still staring at Roberto’s half eaten oatmeal.

“Clint-“ Kimberly says.

“I’m not making you pay for a bunch of food he didn’t like and barely ate.” Clint picks at his own eggs Benedict.

“Clint.” Kimberly repeats, gently. “You don’t have money or a working credit card anymore. You left money to me and Roberto which was much more then enough to cover a meal out.”

“Right, right sorry.” Clint runs a hand over his own face. “I just get so wrapped up in everything sometimes. It’s easy to forget.”

“Forget what?” Roberto asks.

“Oh,” says Kimberly hand over her mouth.

Clint’s staring at him again, this time mouth slightly open, shocked. He doesn’t seem to know where to start.

“Roberto,” He says finally, “Do you believe in ghosts?”

He thinks about it do a moment “No? I don’t think so?”

He’s knows he’s said the wrong thing the second he says it. A hopeful light goes out in Clint’s eyes.

“I’m a ghost.” Clint says. “There was a bus accident, last Christmas.”

Roberto’s about to argue-to says something, but then Clint passes his hand straight through the table.

The emotional reaction to this proclamation is like a tidalwave that threatens to swallow Roberto whole. There’s a brief familiar hint of anger, and then grief, terrible nauseating grief and sadness. Clint had died? Crushed or something by a bus? It must have been horrible. The idea is terrifying.

“Ta-dah- Roberto, are you, okay?”

He’s dimly aware that there are tears streaming down the cheeks.

“Did it hurt?” He finally manages to croak out. “Where you alone? Was it fast or-“ His voice breaks, he can’t force the final words out.

“It didn’t hurt, I promise.” Clint tells him, though he looks upset. “It was fast, I didn’t feel it, and I was able to save someone I cared about.” Clint smiles at him.

Roberto feels the tears slowing. Now that the panic is over, now that he can think- Clint definitely doesn’t look dead, he looks perfectly fine. He tries to take a deep breathe. The feeling of dread doesn’t lessen. The restaurant suddenly seems suffocating. Nothing is familiar.

“Can we go?” He asks Kimberly, quietly. “It’s just alot.”

Kimberly makes a noise of sympathy. “Does your head hurt?” He nods.

“It’s too bright in here.” He says suddenly. “It’s too loud. I don’t like it.”

“Can you get him home?” Clint asks Kimberly. “I think I should go get Jacob’s advice. He might have some ideas.”

As soon as Kimberly texts Clint that their back home, he bolts to his workplace.

He flings open Marley’s door and barges into the office, paying no attention to the annoyed look Marley shoots him or the pile of papers on the desk.

“What is it?” Marley says annoyed. He definitely thinks it’s nothing which is fair, because sometimes Clint does like to barge in just to annoy him.

“Present was in the hospital yesterday.” Clint says, cutting straight to the chase.

Marley looks up, alarmed, paper work forgotten.

“Is he alright?”

“He fell off a ladder putting up Christmas lights and hit his head pretty hard. The doctors say that physically he’s fine, other then the minor concussion but-“ Here Clint falters. He’s been so focused on Present’s health, on try to fix this, that it’s almost hard to say it out loud.

“But, what?” Marley prompts, voice gentler this time.

“He doesn’t remember anything- at all.”

“Anything?” Marley repeats a strange quietness in his voice. He motions to the chair on the opposite side of the desk, Clint sits down in it gratefully. Ghosts can’t feel physically tired, but emotionally, Clint is exhausted.

“I don’t know what to do.” Clint admits quietly. “He doesn’t recognize me, he doesn’t recognize Kimberly. I tried to jog his memory by bringing him to his favorite restaurant, and nothing. He didn’t seem to recognize it, and he didn’t like it. He didn’t want to eat the stuff he usually eats. He found out I’m a ghost and he freaked.” Clint sighs. “I thought you might have some ideas, since you’ve known him longer then I have. Maybe you could talk to him?”

“I don’t think I should meet with him.” Marley says, sounding as if he’s already made his mind up. “I don’t think that you want to risk jogging that part of his memory. You can try to remind him of being Present if you really want, but leave me out of it. That could bring back things he would not want to remember. Let him just be Roberto, I thinks that’s what he would have wanted.”

“I don’t know how much of a choice I have, when it comes to that actually.“ it comes out more aggressive then he wants it to. He’s upset, and it’s finally coming out. “He kept acting kind of weird about the Christmas decorations.” He hisses. “I’m not even sure if he liked them!”

“If he is, becoming his old self again, you can’t be so aggressive with him.” He knows Marley’s only trying to calm him down, but in his state it’s making him more upset.” You will freak him out and it will only make things worse.”

“Present hates that guy, and I don’t think Present would hate someone with out a very good reason!” He doesn’t mean to shout, but it comes out that way.

“I’m not sure if you have noticed, Mr. Briggs, but Present is that guy!” Now Marley seems aggravated too.

Clint quiets, suddenly. “Are you saying that Present hates himself?”

Marley sighs.

“I think he hates what he did, and who he used to be. Sometimes I think, that he might be happier, if he didn’t remember being Ebenezer Scrooge. He was so ashamed of it, and he was always so scared that it would come back. He used to hide in my office whenever he was upset, becuase he was worried that the ghosts would see him and decide that he hadn’t really been redeemed. It was his idea to hide his identity, to change himself so drastically. To become practically unrecognizable.”

“Can I ask you something that might be an awful question?” Clint almost doesn’t want to, but he has to know.

“Alright.”

“Do you ever miss Scrooge? Like at all?”

“Ebenezer Scrooge was a terrible person.” Marley says, and for a moment Clint thinks that’s going to be it but then he continues “But he was my only friend. So yes. I miss him. I didn’t think he would change himself so much. I thought he would be more like he was when he was younger, before all those things happened to him. But instead, he became a whole new person. I liked Present, genuinely I did, and sometimes that was enough. But well-“

Marley pauses again.

“I didn’t have the words for it, back then. But well, I never married or dated or any of that, because I never felt attracted to a women. I told myself it was because I was busy with work and with the business and I didn’t have time for that sort of thing. If anyone ever asked I would look downcast and let them assume there was some tragedy or heartbreak. Ebenezer never cared, I knew that his fiancé had broken up with him but we never talked about that sort of thing. We decided that romance was a bunch of humbug and left it at that. And, well, if I thought he looked nice in his new suit in the candle light, that was clearly an appreciation for his hard work. I knew I cared for him, i enjoyed spending time with him, I left him my house, because I wanted to be able to still take care of him somehow, after death. I started to figure it out after I died. I spent every spare second of seven years sitting with him, watching him. I had a lot of time to think. I became obsessed with saving him. I loved him to much to doom him to my fate. I was in love with him.”

Marley gazes down at his paperwork. Clint gets the feeling that he’s never told anyone this before.

“I have a lot of paperwork to get to.” Marley says. Clint pretends not to notice the tear slipping down his cheek. Clearly this conversation is over. “Is that all?”

“I’m sorry,” Clint says as he’s leaving but before he closes the door.

Marley look up at him, silently questioning the unexpected apology. “I’m sorry you weren’t able tell him right after he died, before it was too late.”

Marley is silent and Clint thinks he’s not going to respond for a second until he says “I thought we had all the time in the world. I like too think, if I had known, I would have told him. But I was scared. I was in love with the version of himself that he hated the most.” Marley clears his throat, and regains his composure, shuffling his paperwork. “I’ll see you at the meeting.”

“What meeting?” Clint doesn’t remember a meeting.

“The one that Future’s going to call in about an hour, because Bonnie texted him that Margot told her that someone saw you barge in here and heard shouting.”

“What-how do you know this? Are you psychic? Is that like a ghost power?” Sue him, Clint’s new to this whole ghost thing.

“I know that because I am in the group chat. Now I need to finish this paper work before the meeting. Good bye.” Clint closes the door.

Half an hour later Clint’s in his own office definitely also doing paperwork and not going back and forth between playing games on his phone and texting Kimberly for updates on Present’s condition, when he gets a text from Future calling a meeting. He responds with an affirmative, then asks if he can be added to the big group chat. No response.

He arrives, a couple minutes late, to a room full of expectant ghosts.

There obviously in the middle of some sort of conversation but they all stop when he walks in.

“Hey, sorry I’m late, Why did you call a meeting?”

Future addresses him first. He’s got a black sweater pulled over the robe. It has little snowflakes on it.

“Why were you and Jacob arguing?”

“There was a problem, that we were discussing, and we were having trouble finding an answer."

“Maybe we can help?” Bonnie adds in. She’s wearing a very pretty red sweater with leggings.

He thinks about it. He wasn’t getting anywhere on his own, and Marley hadn’t had any ideas. He makes up his mind.

“Look,” he says. “I’m going to tell you something, that usually would be none of your business becuase it’s personal and Present told me it in confidence, but someone needs to tell you so we can fix this.”

Bonnie stops fidgeting in her chair and Future puts his phone back in the pocket of his robe. Both look at Clint expectantly.

Clint looks over at Marley. “Actually, could you maybe tell them?”

Marley looks incredibly unimpressed. “It was your idea, and you just said that you would tell them.”

“How about I tell them half and you tell them the other half?”

Marley gives him a look again.

Clint throws his hands up. Best to just get this over with.
“Present hit his head and lost all his memories.”

Bonnie gasps. Future seems shocked, but honestly sometimes Clint has trouble telling.

“Also he used to be Scrooge.” He expects outrage from them both. Instead it’s just Bonnie.

“Scrooge? Like Ebenezer Scrooge?” Bonnie’s gives him a look, shock mixed with disbelief. “Uh next time you want to play a stupid joke, maybe don’t tell me one of my friends is in the hospital.”

It’s shock. He knows it’s shock but he can’t help it.

“This is why I didn’t want to involve you!” Clint says and it comes out to loud, too upset. This had been a bad idea, but there was no taking it back now. He lowers his voice slightly, apologetic at the startled looks from the other ghosts. “It’s not a joke! I wouldn’t joke about this! It was Presents secret and he trusted me with it-“

“I believe him.” Future says unexpectantly, and all in a rush. “It makes sense.” He says, turning to Bonnie.

Everyone just starts at him for a moment. Bonnie speaks first.

“What? How does it make any sense?” She stares up at the dark hood. “Also, how are you not surprised? Why are you not surprised this is very surprising!”

“Uh-“

“Did you figure it out?” Clint asks, curious. “Or wait did he tell you?” Future had referred to Present as his best friend that fateful night in the graveyard, could this be why?

“He told you but not me?” Bonnie say, indignantly.

“He didn’t tell me-“

“So you did figure it out!” Clint’s a little curious as to how, Present had been very good at disguising it.

“I was there, Okay?” Future is finally able to get the whole sentence out, probably a little annoyed at being interrupted so much.

“Wait” Bonnie says “What?”

Future turns to her. “You know how the Original GC Past retired, and they passed it down to the next GC Past, and she passed it down to you?”

Bonnie nods.

“Well, I never retired. I’ve just kind of always been here?” Everyone stares at him. Future fidgets with his hands, the bone quietly clacking together.

“What do you mean always?” Clint asks.

Future shrugs. “Since before the whole Scrooge thing. Can we focus, on the Roberto thing?”

“We are discussing this later.” Bonnie threatens. Future ignores her.

“If he’s turning into an asshole again,” Future says, “Could we just re haunt and re-redeem him?”

“Now that,” Marley says. “Is an idea. I could simply find the old files, and we could repeat everything.”

“Files?” Clint asks feeling lost. “Wasn’t it like the eighteen hundreds?”

“We converted everything from magic to digital ages ago.” Marley says, attention still on the new idea.

Clint zones out a little. His first haunting. Haunting Present of all people. Would it be the right thing to do? If Present-the one with all his memories was here, would he want this? If this is the only answer, the only thing that could bring him back would that make it right? Jacob has known Roberto a lot longer then Clint has after all.

He decides he’ll just listen to this plan for now.

Roberto wanders into the kitchen.

“Kimberly?”

“Hey, Roberto how are you feeling?”

“I think I’m okay. My head hurst a little less.”

“That’s good” she says. “Here.” She hands him a mug, with something warm in it. He sniffs it tentatively.

It’s hot chocolate.” He’s grateful that she doesn’t try to tell him that he’ll like it, or used to like it.

He takes a sip. It’s good.

“How did we meet?” Roberto asks quietly from his chair nursing his hot cocoa. The mug Kimberly had handed him is large and is decorated with clashing bright red and green stripes.

“I used to work for Clint.” She says, and it looks likes she watching for a recognition, a reaction too. He feels guilty. “You were visiting him one day in his office, and we ran into each other and started talking.” She smiles at him. “I thought you were a little goofy but cute.” She smiles at him like it’s some sort of inside joke.

“What did we talk about?” He tried to picture it in his head. Her, maybe at a desk in an office, him, in work clothes with a clipboard or something.

“Work, mostly. Clint a bit.”

“What about our first date? What was that like?” Now he’s searching for recognition too.

“We left Clint’s Christmas party early, too go on a walk around the city and get food.”

“I’m sorry.” He says suddenly. “I wish I remembered. I want-“ The words catch in his through. Tears well up in his eyes, impulsively he grabs her hand. “I want to remember, really.”

His head pumps suddenly, horribly. He cradles in in hands.

“-Roberto?”

He realizes dimly that Kimberly was talking to talking to him.

“It hurts. He manages to grit out. “I think I should lay down.”

It’s a bit of blur, but Kimberly helps him up and over to the couch- he doesn’t think he can handle the stairs right now. He closes his eyes, and the world seems to drift away.

Clint comes back in a rush. He hadn’t meant to be gone so long. The discussion of the new plan had taken hours. He’d put aside his original issues with it, but now he wasn’t so sure. He’s worried, he realizes about Roberto.

He skips the usual niceties of the front porch and the door bell all together, and just appears in the middle of the kitchen.

“Kimberly-“

“He’s okay, Clint.” She says, turning to him. She looks tired, but better then she had earlier. She’s less tense. He’s napping on the couch. “He was tired and his head was bothering him.”

“Right, right.” His breathing calms a little at that. Just because he can’t see Roberto doesn’t mean he’s in trouble. Back to the matter at hand

“Did he ever tell you,” Clint begins, and he is dreading this conservation. “That he used to be-“

“That he used to be Ebenezer Scrooge from A Christmas Carol? He did, right after I proposed to him. He said that I should know who he used to be before I decided that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him.”

“Oh. Good. I wasn’t looking forward to explaining that. Kimberly,” he says sobering, “I’m scared that he’s getting back only his old memories, the Scrooge ones. Marley wants to haunt him again, if he is, and I’m not sure if it’s a good idea.”

She looks upset, worried.

“Did you know that he still gets nightmares about it? He had one last week.”

Clint’s mouth goes dry. “I don’t know. How could I have not known?At least I knew what to expect.” Clint says. “I read Christmas Carol in college, I’ve seen Scrooge, I knew the general plot point what was coming next. He gets, what? The ghost of his best friend, some weird humanoid ghosts, the grim reaper and his own grave. He must have been terrified.”

“Shit. Shit!” He swears suddenly “Kimberly I just agreed to have him rehaunted. Present was always so obsessed with being redeemed so I let myself be convinced that it was what he would have wanted. I think I made a huge mistake.I ’m scared that if Present finds out that I didn’t stand up to this when I could have, that he’ll hate me.”

“Why don’t you go back and explain that to Marley?” Kimberly suggests, a comforting hand on his shoulder. He probably didn’t know about the nightmares either, if you tell him I’m sure he’ll call it off-“

“I just need to check on Present first.” He says. “I just need to make sure he’s okay, and then I’ll be able to focus enough to argue this with the others.”

He pokes his head into the living room, and sees Present curled up on the couch.

“Hey Roberto,” Clint says.

Present’s flipping through a small book. Clint gets a good look at the cover and his stomach drops.

“You lied to me.” Present says, brandishing a copy of A Christmas Carol at him.

“Roberto-“

“Not my name.” He replies, in that same, still, angry tone.

“Look, I’m sorry, I didn’t even know you owned a copy of that, honestly.” Clint holds his hands up in surrender

“So your not sorry that you lied, you’re sorry that I found out?” There’s an anger to Present’s voice that Clint hasn’t ever really hear before. A coldness, a cruelty.

“I was trying to help-“

“You lied to me. You’re not even in here. We’re not friends.” Present drop the book on the ground. It lands with a thud.

“That isn’t everything. There’s more after that. Did you read the end? You get better, everyone forgives you at the end. You make up for it, all of it. You go to your nephews party, you increase Bob Crachits wage, you save Tiny Tim’s life. You get redeemed, I promise-“

“Redeemed?” Roberto asks, almost a whisper a strange look on his face, and for a second Clint thinks that just maybe the book and the speeches worked. Maybe this means the nightmare is over and all of Present’s memories were coming back.

“Bah,” Roberto says and it’s terrible, it’s every worry Clint has had this whole time “Humbug.”

Clint’s heart plummets in his chest. He knows deep down, that this isn’t Present or Roberto any more. It’s-

“SCROOOOOOOOOOGE!”

Chapter Text

“SCROOOOOOOOOOGE!”

A puff of smoke. Marley appears in front of them, and he’s in full haunting gear, with the freaky dead ghost face, and the dangling metal boxes and chains snaking around Present’s living room.
In the distance bells are ringing.

Marley steps closer

Shit. It’s happening. Clint knows he should have skipped checking on Present and gone straight to work told Marley to call off the haunt immediately.

The color drains from Roberto’s face. He slowly presses himself to Clint’s side. He’s shaking.
Presents eyes are squeezed shut.

“I’m sorry-I’m sorry-I’m sorry-“ he whispers and then goes quiet.
He looks terrified.

“Everybody stop!” Clint yells. He regrets it when Roberto flinches.

He sees Marleys expression change to deep concern. He blinks and Marley’s back to the way he usually looks, dead-appearance and chains gone.

“I’m sorry if I scared you, Ebenezer if I count, can you time your breathing to it?”

“Jacob? Is that you?”

An hour later, after some careful explanations, Marley leaves to grab some paperwork.

“Hey, Scrooge want to learn modern swear words?” Clint asks. “So good afternoon isn’t really a swear word anymore. Now people use words like fuck. You can say things like what the fuck, how the fuck, fuck off, that something is weird as fuck, or cool as fuck.”

“What does this “fuck” mean exactly?”

Clint tells him. Scrooges eyes light up.

“So it considered rude? Rather vulgar?”

“Extremely. It’s one of the worst swear words.”

Scrooge grins.

About an hour later, Jacob returns.

“This part may freak you out a little bit, but I can explain. “ he says. He hands Scrooge a small pocket mirror

Scrooge stares into for a moment

“What,” he says “the fuck.”

Clint can’t help it. He laughs. He laughs at the smug self satisfied grin on Scrooge’s face, at the shocked look on Marley’s.

“Why did you have to teach him swear words?” Marley says, massaging the bridge of his nose.

“I don’t understand.” Scrooge says one hand fiddling with his hair, the other still clutching Marley’s. “Why do I look so different? Why do I sound so different?” He’s tracing his own face gently, eyes still on the mirror. “I don’t look like myself. My hair,” he says almost mournfully. “What happened to my hair?”

He moves the mirror more, taking in his shorter hair, his new face, his new teeth.

“I’ve seen what you looked like back then.” Clint says slowly. “But I always thought you made yourself look younger, I didn’t realize you gave yourself a whole new face.”

Scrooge ignores him, and turns to Jacob.

“Could you fix it, Jacob? Change me back? Perhaps you could leave the teeth, I prefer these new ones.”

“I can’t. Jacob says gently “Even if I could I don’t think I would. Once your memories returned you would-“ Marley cuts himself off.

“I would what?”

“You would hate me for it.”

“But I don’t understand. I am redeemed, a better person now. Surely I am glad of that?”

Ebenezer turns, mirror forgotten to Jacob.

“You, old friend, look the same. Not as I last saw you, but as I last saw you before that. Where are the chains and metal boxes? Are you finally free of them?”

“I can render them intangible, invisible to the human eye.” Marley says gently. “But they are still here, they will always be here, and I can still feel them always.”

“Can I see them?”

Ebenezer, steps forward and gently traced Marley’s face with his fingertips. Marley freezes.

Ebenezer moves one hand to Jacob’s lips, tracing the jaw with the other. He gently pulls the lips outwards slightly revealing white teeth He pulls the jaw just as gently open and looks into the mouth.

“You’re teeth, Jacob. You fixed them. Do they no longer hurt you?”

“Those are called wisdom teeth now. They caused the other teeth to become crowded. They don’t hurt me anymore. I find it helpful in this form to make them look different.

“Can I see your real face?” Scrooge asks, quietly.

“You don’t want to. It’s ugly, it will scare you-“

“Please Jacob? For me?”

Marley’s face softens. Clearly he cant say no to Scrooge.

Then the creepy dead face is back along with the boxes, and the band of faded fabric tied around Marley’s jaw.

Ebenezer reaches a hand up and gently unties the fabric, releasing Marley’s jaw wihich opens of his own accord.

Ebenezer cups the jaw with one hand, with the other, he quickly grabs the end of the nearest chain.

Marley’s eyes fly open. “What are you doing-“

In one deft motion, Ebenezer slides the nearest metal box of the end of the chain, dropping it hard on the ground.

“Does that make the burden lighter?”

Marley gapes at him.

Ebenezer continues pulling boxes from the chains and flinging them down hard on the floor. One skids dangerously close to Clint’s foot. There’s a coldness coming from them that he couldn’t sense when he was alive, that seems to slowly be dissipating from them the longer they sit on the wood floor. Ebenezer finsihes with the boxes, the last one tossed over his shoulder and stalks up to Jacob.

He grasps the chains fastened around Jacobs chest.

“Do you have any sort of lock picking tools?”

“What-?”

Clint fishes through the kitchen junk drawer and holds up a pepper clip “Would this-“

Scrooge grabs it without even looking at him.

He takes the paper clips and slowly unfurls it, then in one deft motion sticks it in the top padlock.
He fiddles with it for one moment, then another. The lock sticks fast refusing to budge. A mournful look passes over Marley’s face.

“It was a good idea,” Jacob says softly, “but I don’t think these locks work quite like-“

The lock springs open.

“Did you-“ Jacob says “Did you just-“

“You did so much for me, I wanted to thank you. This is the closest thing I can give you to a redemption.” Scrooge says.

Then he grabs the front coat and kisses him

Marley gently but firmly pushes the other man away.

“Another future updates you should know is that you’re married.”

“To you?”

“No,” Marley chokes out. “Her name is Kimberly.”

Scrooge is clearly about to reply, but then he presses a hand to his head, and a moment after that, he faints.

Clint and Marley wait for him to wake up.

“You need to tell him.” Clint whisper hisses at him.

“He is married.” Marley grits back.

“I’m not saying ask him out, I’m just saying to tell him that you loved him. Seriously, this might be your last chance to actually tell him. Unless you want to tell Present, I don’t mean to sound rude, but I think he might take it better then Present would.”

“I’m not telling him, and that is final.”

“Telling me what?” Present opens his eyes sitting up, blinking himself awake. Clint knows it’s Present the second he opens his mouth. He can tell that Marley knows too, when the old ghost closes his eyes for a moment and lets out a slow mournful breath.

Present’s sitting pretty, looking around the room with a sort of detached curiosity. His body language is so different from the way Scrooge had hunched and stared. Clint wonders how long it took Present to trains himself out of that, or if had just been another part of erasing his past self.

Present’s eyes finally settle on Clint.

“So, is he?” Present prompts, looking over at Marley.

Marley’s eyebrows shoot up. “Is who what?”

“The hot guy,” Present says nonchalantly motioning at Clint. Clint chokes on his own saliva. Marley looks physically pained. “Is he the new perp?”

“The hot guy.” Clint chokes out. “Can hear you.”

“Oh I’m so sorry!” Present looks genuinely embarrassed. “So are you a new hire? I’m GC Present, that stands for Ghost of Christmas Present-“

“No,” Clint says slowly. I’m the ghost of Christmas Present and-“

“No,” Present cuts in, suddenly less friendly then he was a second ago.
“I’m the ghost-“

“You retired, sunshine.” Marley says so gently. “Last year. He’s telling the truth, he’s the new GC Present.”

Present looks confused, and shrugs off the hand on his shoulder. “But I haven’t worked here long enough to retire. And I’ve only been doing this job for a couple decades-“

Clint decides this is the perfect time to cut in. “Look,” he says. “Your missing a lot of time okay? The year is 2022. You bumped your head and missed a lot. You decided to retire, and-

“But, I don’t want to retire ever. I’m going to stay with Jacob.” Present says stubbornly.

“Haunting you, redeeming you, it was all so you would have options.” Marley says. “So that you wouldn’t be stuck, like I am. Why would you sacrifice that? Just so you could stay?”

“Is this part of your whole obsession with whether or not your redeemable?” Clint can’t help but jump in.

Present looks surprised, his smile dims for a second before coming back, this time a little more artificial.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what your talking about-“

“He knows about that. About your past.”

“You told him?” Presmt says, sounding he trusted.

“You told him. And just showed him quite a lot of it, if I’m being honest.”

“What?”

Your getting your memories back in stages. Don’t ask me why.” Clint chimes in.

“Retiring,”Marley says. “Is more of an art then an exact science. There can be side effects. Apparently it doesn’t mix well with concussions.”

At present question look, Clint tells him, “The last stage was your Scrooge memories.”

Present blanches, turning to Marley. “Oh. I’m sorry-“

“Don’t apologize, not to me, not for that.”

“You never actually told me your name.” Present says to Clint, in the middle of scarfing down the Christmas cookies.

“Clint,” he says. Its weird to have to introduce himself to present, weirder to have to keep doing it. “Clint Briggs.”

Present’s eyes light up, and he suddenly straightens up, cookies and crumb covered sweater forgotten.

“I know you! Your that asshole we’re going to redeem! Wait, why can you see me?”

“Yes, I can see you becuase you’re alive-we literally just went over this like then minutes ago-“

Present ignores him. “Is this the haunt? Did we already start the haunt?”

Present reaches a hand to his ear, clearly looking for an earpiece that he does not find.

“Sorry, I think I’m having technical difficulties. Have you seen my ear piece?”

“Your ear piece?”

Present starts looking around the living room. “Bonnie? Can you hear me? Pease end the current-“

He turns around and stops, frozen to the spot, staring at Clint.

“Clint?”

Clint dares to hope. “Roberto?”

Roberto lights up. He hugs him, squeezing tight.

“Woah! To tight! Let me breathe!”

A flutter of worry and recognition passes over Roberto’s face.

“You,” he stops. “You’re dead. I don’t understand. Did the bus get me too?”

“No, Roberto. That was last year.”

Roberto has a strange look in his eyes. He nods

“You hit your head-“ Clint says helpfully.

“-Putting up Christmas light” Roberto finishes.

Clint stares at him.

“Did you…” He can’t help but hope that maybe just maybe…

“I… remembered that.” Present starts smiling. Clint starts grinning too. “Clint! I remember stuff! I think I might remember everything”

“Okay, Okay!Tell me something that I didn’t tell you.”

“When we first met, and I was showing you your past you said this really obnoxious thing and I forward time so I could slap you without you knowing!”

“That was you? That was you!“

“Okay, now something more recent.” Climt urges, excited.

“My wedding! I was feeling down becuase Kimberly has you know a big extended family, and I well, don’t, but you convinced everyone from work to come! Oh- and you were the best man at my wedding. Also you just helped deal with have to relive a lot of difficult parts of my life. You were even nice to Scrooge.”

“Becuase he’s you.” Climt says, feeling relived. “You’re back, you’re finally back.”

He hugs Roberto. “I missed you.”

Roberto hugs him back. “I missed you too.”