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Jonathan had never liked Christmas. In his childhood, Christmas was a time of repenting for his existence. He was not part of the family; he did not deserve joy and presents. December was a time of endless yelling and beatings. Of crows desperate for food, tearing at his flesh as he begged for forgiveness. It was cold and harsh, and he felt a silent dread build within him each year. A countdown in his mind that started on the 26th of December and slowly counted down to his next Christmas. When he had killed his grandmother and fled the farm, that fear followed him. Each year, Christmas came, and each year, Jonathan found himself locked away in his apartment, willing time to move faster so he wouldn’t have to deal with this stupid holiday anymore. At least on the farm, he hadn’t known about the joy that others found in the celebrations. He could pretend it was just his great grandmother growing senile. But now, like clockwork, he had a set reminder for some of the worst moments of his life. And he despised it.
Jonathan never celebrated Christmas. Until Edward.
Before Edward, Jonathan’s list of holidays he celebrated was very short. One thing only. Halloween. It was a time of fear, and it was always fun to take advantage of the grim atmosphere that coated Gotham each year. It was a time for him to push himself past his limits. To invent new toxins, new ways of breaking people's minds. It was his obsession, and he found himself looking forward to the holiday each year with a giddiness that would have earned him a night in the chapel if he had still been living with his great-grandmother. It was a way to distract himself from what was coming. It was easier to bury himself in his work than think about the limited time he had until December came around once more.
But while Jonathan went all in for Halloween, Edward lived for Christmas. It didn’t matter if they were in Arkham or in their safe house; he found some way to celebrate. When he got the chance, he would decorate whatever hideout they had found themselves to the maximum their budget would allow. He’d bake and cook. For once, not obsessing over his riddles and his work quite as much. And it was strange. The first year they had ‘celebrated’ Christmas together, Jonathan had fought Edward about it the entire time. Annoyed about how much importance his partner put into the holiday. Which then led to an argument about the sheer amount of time Jonthan spent on his plans for Halloween each year. How Edward happily went along with his plans. Jonathan had apologised, reluctantly. And Edward had celebrated Christmas with some of the other rogues, leaving Jonathan to mull over what Edward had said to him.
As the years passed, Jonathan slowly allowed himself to join Edward in his traditions. Watching, observing. Slowly adapting to this thing that had never had a place in his life before. Because as much as he hated to admit it, he was fond of Edward, he didn’t want to lose him. Edward was always a lively person. His personality was one that demanded be all attention be on him, and Jonathan found himself drawn to it. The warmth, the boldness. A strange contrast to the harshness that had followed him throughout his childhood. And seeing the joy on Edward’s face as the days drew closer to Christmas made him begin to realise how much he’d been missing out on, by hiding away from Edward in December. He still didn’t feel ‘Christmasy’ as Edward loved to say. He still felt that lingering dread at the back of his spine as the 25th drew ever closer. But seeing Edward happy, watching him decorate and bake. It made the feeling soften ever so slightly. And for the life of him, he couldn’t understand why. It’s a question that lingers at the back of his mind. Haunting him.
On Christmas Eve, Edward made them hot chocolate. They sit together on the sofa, leaning against one another as a shitty Christmas movie plays on the TV. Neither of them is truly paying attention to it. Edward’s staring at the tree, admiring the presents that he had neatly piled beneath its branches. Whilst Jonathan reads a book, or at least pretends to read. His mind can’t focus on the words, and Jonathan finds his thoughts drifting someplace dark. That ever-present need to understand why he was feeling so happy at a time that had only brought him pain. Why did Edward seem to make everything better? It creeps onto him, demanding his attention. He knows Edward can tell something is off. His partner sending him concerned glances from where he sits. And soon the silence grows to be too much for him, and the question he’d been trying his best to ignore since he had gotten into this relationship with Edward finally slips out.
“Why do you love Christmas so much?”
He feels Edward jolt from the sudden conversation, turning to look at him with surprise. Edward studies him for a moment before turning away with a shrug of his shoulders.
“My mother. She loved Christmas, I guess it rubbed off on me.”
For once, Jonathan didn’t feel the need to follow that statement with his usual jabs at Edward. There’s a faraway look in his partner’s eyes. Glossed over and pained. And oh so familiar. Because it was the exact same look Jonathan found in his own eyes whenever he realised Christmas was drawing near. The kind of look that is built up from years of memories that haunt your every waking moment. Jonathan knew Edward hadn’t had a good childhood; he knew all about the horrors his drunken father had put him through. But something about this was different. Edward rarely spoke of his mother. If he didn’t know any better, he would have just assumed that Edward’s mother hadn’t been in the picture when he was a child.
“Really?” Jonathan said as he placed his bookmark within his novel before setting it on the coffee table, giving Edward his full attention.
Edward let out a hum, twisting his hands together. His thumbs were rubbing against one another in an anxious tic.
“She was depressed to a point where most days all she could do was sit around and stare at the walls all day. But at Christmas, for a couple of days, she seemed to come alive. I never understood why. But whilst my father was busy getting drunk, we’d decorate the house and open up presents. We tried our best to keep it secret from him so as not to anger him. The only part my father took part in was the food.”
“That sounds… stressful.”
“It was, in a way. But those brief few hours of joy allowed such a relief compared to my everyday life. I clung to them. To the normalcy. I could pretend for a while that I wasn’t going to be beaten black and blue once I did something to piss off my father again.”
His partner trails off. And Jonathan finds himself more confused than before. Because nothing about this felt positive. Death, pain, fear. Those weren’t things that anyone would associate with the holiday. Yet Edward had experienced all of them. And still found Joy in the holidays. He didn’t understand, maybe he never would. Maybe this holiday wasn’t meant for him.
“I remember the last Christmas I spent with her. She bought me a book of riddles and puzzles. It was the first time I actually felt seen.” The light in Edward’s eyes dimmed. “She died the very next day, killed herself with her antidepressants, ironically enough.”
“I’m-“
“Don’t say you’re sorry.”
Jonathan’s mouth closes with a shark click. And he frowns. He knew Edward’s mother was dead; he knew she had killed herself. He knew it from the records he’d had access to during his time working at Arkham. He just hadn’t known the date. Some days, he wonders if they were close. Edward didn’t speak of her often, but he was offered very little in terms of positive influences during his childhood. Just like Jonathan. Maybe that’s why this all confused him so much. It seemed such a simple thing to understand. This was a tradition that brought people joy. And he wasn’t raised with that tradition. But it felt like something was missing. Each year, when Christmas came around, it highlighted a hole within him that he’d never learned how to fill, even with all the time he’d spent with Edward. Didn’t Edward feel it? That thing missing inside of you that everyone around you seemed to have. That shiny little thing that brought excitement to your heart whenever the word Christmas was said. Jonathan knew his had died before it had a chance to flourish, before he even knew it existed.
“What about you?” Edward asks suddenly.
“Hmm?”
“I told you why I love Christmas, so why do you seem to despise Christmas so much?”
Jonathan hesitates; he’d told Edward about his past. Briefly. But it always felt so draining to open up about his childhood. He knew such much about Edward’s past and all his partner had were tiny bits and pieces that he’d been offered during darkened nights when the nightmares became too much for Jon to handle.
“It was never like that for me. December was a time of faith. Repenting my sins to Jesus Christ. I didn’t even learn about the holiday until I started university.”
“Must have been a strange adjustment.”
“No more than Halloween or Easter. Yet I find myself despising this holiday so much more than the others”
Edward lets out a small huff of laughter. And he feels a warm hand squeeze his thigh as his partner leans in closer to him.
“There’s a difference between Halloween and Christmas, Jon. Halloween’s all about fear, even if it’s a very gentle kind of fear. Christmas, on the other hand, is overwhelming positivity. It’s sickening to someone who never had to deal with kindness before.”
Jonathan wasn’t sure which of the two of them he was referring to. He slips his hand on top of Edward’s, smiling to himself when Edward flips his hand over so they can lace their fingers together.
“If it’s sickening, then why bother celebrating? Surely there’s better to do something else.”
He holds back from saying anything would be better. Although he wasn’t sure if it was because he didn’t want to offend Edward, or because he wasn’t sure if that wasn’t true anymore. He’d underestimated just how relaxing it would be to just sit here with Edward. To exist with him.
“It makes me happy to spend this time with you. Isn’t that enough?”
"How is this any different from any other time of the year?”
“I don’t know. It just is.” Edward sighs.” It’s a shared moment in humanity of coming together to push through the dregs of winter. It’s a holiday that has been twisted, stolen and passed along until we were left with a strong patchwork of traditions. And I want to share that moment with you because I care about you.”
“But isn’t it painful? Celebrating such a joyous holiday whilst all those memories linger so close by?”
It was painful for Jonathan; he knew that much. And maybe that was the heart of the matter. He just couldn’t understand this mixing of pain and joy. He knew how well the two could intertwine. But this pain, it was too raw, the edges too ragged to even begin to merge with something else. It was an open and rotting wound that Jonathan couldn’t believe would heal, even if he tried to let all this pain go. Edward studies him for a moment before nodding hesitantly.
“That… It’s all in the past. It doesn’t matter. Sure, I think of her whenever Christmas comes around. But I don’t want to focus on that, I want to focus on you. On us. I want to carve out a space for us to feel happy for once. Fuck the past, fuck all the things they put us through. We’re the ones in charge now”
He can’t help but let out a huff of laughter. He never could handle when all of Edward’s energy was directed at him. And he can’t fight back the smile on his face.
“I suppose… Merry Christmas, Edward.”
Edward looks at him, a bright smile spilling onto his face as he reaches up to Jonathan. A hand twists into his collar. Pulling him down until he feels the soft press of lips against his own. He hums into the sensation, eyes fluttering shut as Edward kisses him softly. It only lasts a moment. And soon his partner pulls away, just an inch, looking into Jonathan’s eyes as he says.
“Merry Christmas.”