The Twelve Eves of Christmas

Chapter 3

~ * ~ * ~ * Day 4 * ~ * ~ * ~

"…And here's a song to start your Christmas Eve." The clock radio blared in the background.

I'll be home for Christmas,

you can plan on me.

Please have snow and mistletoe

and presents under the tree.

Christmas Eve will find me,

where the love light gleams.

I'll be home for Christmas,

if only in my dreams.

Brian lay there listening to the song on the radio. The same song again. He was back in this same fucking day again. A part of him kept hoping he'd wake up to find that it had all been a really bad dream. Well, he wasn't going anywhere today.

He called in sick to work and told Cynthia to have Ted and Justin do the presentation, then let everyone go home early. Picking up a bottle of Beam on the way back to his bed, Brian downed a long drink straight from the bottle.

'Let's see them get me today.' He thought as he climbed back under the duvet.

~* ~* ~* ~ * ~* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~ * ~* ~* ~* ~

Brian opened his eyes to find himself back in the hospital, Angie sitting beside his bed. "What am I doing here?" Brian managed to croak out.

"When you didn't come to work, Justin came by to check on you. You had alcohol poisoning." She replied, a bit smugly Brian thought. "Brian, you can't escape this. Now you only have eight days left."

"Fuck you!" Brian tried to shout, only it came out as more of a harsh gasp.

"Are you quite finished feeling sorry for yourself, Mr. Kinney?" Angie asked.

"What makes you think I'm feeling sorry for myself?" Brian knew he was being irrational, but he'd had enough of this shit.

Angie just stood there, arms crossed, foot tapping on the floor while she stared at the brunet.

Brian finally couldn't take any more. "It's not like anyone is going to really miss me once I'm gone anyway. They'll probably throw a fucking party."

Angie glared at him and snapped. "They won't need to. You've thrown quite a nice pity party for yourself."

"I don't do pity." Brian said, more out of reflex than anything else.

"Of course you don't." Angie snapped. "Just like you don't do love."

Brian glared back at the woman. "I don't know what you want from me." Brian whined, hating that he sounded like Michael now.

Angie just smiled that infuriatingly smug smile of hers. "Brian, you may be successful in the business world, but as a man, you're a selfish, narcissistic failure. This is your chance to fix that."

'Okay, I've had enough of this.' Brian thought. He just wanted to get away from this woman who thought she knew so much about him. 'I'll show them… whoever they are.' He concluded.

~ * ~ * ~ * Day 5 * ~ * ~ * ~

"…And here's a song to start your Christmas Eve." The clock radio blared in the background.

I'll be home for Christmas

Brian really, really hated this song.

Brian managed to drag himself into the shower and tried to think about what he had to do to get himself out of this mess he was in. So, he was a failure as a man, huh? That one really rankled.

As he took his shower, Brian decided that all he needed to do was figure out what it was that they wanted him to do and give it to them. It's just like in advertising, only this time, he was selling his success as a man. It shouldn't be that hard.

Brian tried to think as if they were a client. The only problem was, he wasn't really sure who he was dealing with. First things first, he decided. What did he know about them?

They must be powerful if they could make him relive the same fucking day over and over again without anyone else the wiser. But they can't be all powerful. If they were, they'd just make him do whatever it was they want him to do or do it themselves.

As he dressed, he tried to remember what else he'd learned that would be helpful. Angie said that he was selfish and narcissistic. There was his clue. They want him to do something unselfish. Something for someone else.

Brian grabbed his coat and briefcase, the beginnings of a plan running through his mind.

As soon as Brian stepped into the office, he checked on the presentation and then had Cynthia send everyone home for the day. (Well, except for Cynthia and Ted. He'd need them until the presentation was finished.) There, that was unselfish, not to mention costing him a small fortune in wasted salaries.

Next, Brian had Cynthia make a list of local charities. Then he gave the list to Ted and had him make out checks to each and every one of them. Brian even doubled the amount for the GLC.

As soon as Justin came in, Brian told him that he'd like the blond to join the client and himself for lunch, but that he was free to go afterwards.

Once lunch was finished, Brian picked the checks up from the office and told Cynthia and Ted that they could leave. Brian ignored the strange looks that they were giving him. He was determined not to repeat this stupid day again and if it cost him an arm and a leg (figuratively) then that's what he would do. He dared them to call him selfish or narcissistic after all the money he'd just given away.

Brian spent the rest of the afternoon hand delivering the checks to the various organizations. He didn't want to take the chance that it wouldn't count if they weren't delivered by the postal service until after Christmas.

It was getting late when Brian got the last one delivered and he was feeling pretty smug about the whole thing. He decided to join the guys at the diner, even though he knew exactly what they'd be talking about. Remembering that he had stood Michael up on one of his previous Christmas Eve's, Brian suggested to his friend that he go with Ted and Emmett to the Pavilion party. There, he'd even sacrificed an evening with his best friend. That should show them.

Brian was feeling rather full of himself at this point. He went home to change then headed out for an evening of entertainment, feeling he deserved it after the day he'd had. He considered picking up that same trick again, but that would be too much like a repeat, even if the other man didn't remember it.

Instead, Brian tried a new club which had a fairly decent backroom for that time of the evening. After awhile, he tired of that and decided to head on to Babylon. Since it was only a couple of blocks away, he walked it.

It wasn't until Brian heard the strange groaning sound and the scream in the distance that he realized he was walking the same path once again.

~* ~* ~* ~ * ~* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~ * ~* ~* ~* ~

"Brian, there's no reason to pout." Angie said, arms crossed over her chest as she watched the man sitting in the hospital bed.

Brian was tempted to stick his tongue out at her, but managed to refrain. "I'm not pouting." He said instead.

"Right." She nodded with a skeptical look on her face.

Okay, so he was pouting. "What didn't you like about today?" Brian asked. "I was completely unselfish. What more do you want from me?"

Angie took a deep breath and exhaled noisily. "Brian, what you did today was an okay start, but writing a check is easy. It doesn't require you to give any of yourself to do that."

"The hell it doesn't. I could have bought the whole fall Armani collection with that money." Brian groused, completely put out that his efforts had gotten him nowhere.

"It's just money, Brian." Angie explained.

"I'm trying, Angie. Throw me a fucking bone here." Brian almost pleaded. He was truly at a loss as to what to do next.

Angie closed her eyes for a moment as if in contemplation. "Brian, you need to give yourself, not your money."

Brian stared at the woman for a moment. "Is that it? That's all you're going to give me?" Brian asked.

She just stared back at him while Brian contemplated what she'd said.

"Fine, can I have my clothes now?"

~ * ~ * ~ * Day 6 * ~ * ~ * ~

"…And here's a song to start your Christmas Eve." The clock radio blared in the background.

I'll be home for Christmas,

you can plan on me.

Well, here he was, back at square one. What the fuck was he supposed to do now? 'Give himself'? Brian had no idea what that meant.

Please have snow and mistletoe

and presents under the tree.

Brian lay in the bed, staring up at the ceiling. He was tempted to call Justin. He was sure the blond would have no trouble figuring out what to do.

Christmas Eve will find me,

where the love light gleams.

Maybe that was it. He just needed to figure out what Justin would do in this situation.

I'll be home for Christmas,

if only in my dreams.

That boy is always doing stuff to help out others. Even though Brian had always harassed him about it, it was one of the things that Brian most admired about the blond.

The radio continued to play in the background as the song finished. Brian was grateful when the DJ began talking instead of playing more of that dreadful Christmas music.

Suddenly, Brian sat up in the bed. Something the DJ had said caught his attention. Something that was what he was looking for.

Brian called the radio station to get the details, then called Cynthia to let her know he wouldn't be coming in. Ted and Justin could do the presentation.

The people at the soup kitchen were all overly friendly as Brian walked in to volunteer, but he tried to be on his best behavior. He didn't think reaming people out over their too cheerful attitudes would score any points towards getting him out of this situation.

Brian put on the 'apron' they gave him to protect his clothes, hoping that no one he knew would see him like this. They then gave him a spoon and put him in front of a huge vat of something resembling soup. There were other foods there, but Brian guessed it was poetic justice that he would get stuck with the actual soup at the soup kitchen.

After a couple of hours of slopping soup into bowls, someone came to relieve the brunet. They handed him his own bowl of soup and Brian sat at one of the benches to sip at it. Surprisingly, it wasn't too bad. Either that or he was really, really hungry.

A little boy and his sister sat down across from him while their mother went to get them all some food. The boy was about Gus' age and he kept a protective arm around his little sister while she clung to an old doll. Brian couldn't help but notice how thin their coats were and how neither had either mittens or hats.

"Do you think that Santa will be able to find us this year?" The little girl asked her brother, sniffling slightly.

"I don't know, Kimmie." The boy said sadly. Then he managed a small smile. "I don't think he could land the sleigh on top of the car anyway."

Brian felt a lump form in his throat. They were living in a car? What kind of life was that?

The mother came back with a tray of food and Brian watched as she encouraged both children to eat, not touching her food until they were both well into theirs. She exchanged glances with Brian as he finished his soup and got to his feet, feeling extremely uncomfortable.

His shift was over, but somehow Brian couldn't just leave. Not sure why, he wandered around the back until he found some paper. Brian quickly fashioned an envelope (of sorts) and emptied the cash from his wallet into it. He wrote a simple message on the outside and handed it to one of the workers, instructing them to give it to the woman with the two kids.

Brian didn't wait to see her open it.

Maybe Angie was right and it wasn't about money. In this poor family's case though, that's all Brian had to give them. Brian just wished it had been more.

Getting into the Jeep, Brian glanced at the clock on the dashboard and realized that Gus's concert was due to start soon. He suddenly had an overwhelming desire to see his son.

Brian found a seat in the very back of the room and watched as the kids sang Christmas song after Christmas song. They'd never cut a CD, but Brian found himself applauding just as loudly as the other families when it was over.

He slipped out the back, hoping no one had noticed that he had been there. He really didn't want to explain his change of heart.

"Brian!" He heard a familiar voice calling him as he walked to the jeep. Brian should have known that a certain blond twink would catch him. He had seldom been able to slip anything past the blond before.

Brian paused by the Jeep and waited for Justin to catch up.

"Aren't you going to say anything to Gus?" Justin asked as soon as he got close enough to talk without yelling. "He's going to be so excited that you made it."

"That's not why I came." Brian found himself saying.

Justin gave him a puzzled look. "Why did you come?" He asked.

Brian looked into those blue eyes, wishing he had an answer that made some sort of sense. After seeing the boy at the soup kitchen, Brian just needed to make sure that his son was okay. He needed to see him being happy, healthy and doing the things that a kid his age should be doing.

Instead of explaining, Brian just shrugged. "How did the presentation go?" He asked instead, wanting to change the subject.

Justin snorted. "Ted is pissed. He was so rattled at having to do it himself at the last minute that I don't think we made that great an impression. Not to mention that we couldn't explain why 'the man' wasn't there to do it himself." Justin gave Brian a very pointed look. "Ms. Madison said she'd get back to us."

To be honest, Brian really didn't care about the account anymore.

"Where were you this morning?" Justin asked when Brian didn't volunteer any information.

"Working in a soup kitchen." Brian said, knowing no one would believe that.

Justin just kind of cocked his head to one side while he studied the brunet's face. "So, Brian Kinney does give a shit." He said with a smile. Then he leaned forward and kissed his partner on the cheek.

Brian knew he shouldn't be surprised that Justin believed him. Or, more to the point, that Justin believed <b><i>in</i></b> him. And for some reason, that scared the shit out of him.

"I'd better go." Brian said, needing to put some distance between himself and this man who read him a little too well.

"Later." Justin said as Brian climbed into the Jeep.

"Later."

~* ~* ~* ~ * ~* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~ * ~* ~* ~* ~

Brian knew where he was even before he opened his eyes. Back in the hospital.

After he'd left Justin, he'd gone to Woody's for a few drinks. He wasn't sure what all happened after that, but he did remember walking under that damn sign once more.

"I fucked up again." Brian said without opening his eyes. He knew she was there.

"Actually, Brian, I think you're starting to get the idea." Angie said. "For a few minutes today, the real Brian Kinney came out and actually let someone touch him."

Brian did open his eyes at that. "A few minutes? That's all?" Brian asked. "I was at that fucking soup kitchen for at least three hours."

"Yes, and wishing you were anywhere else the whole time." Angie said, that knowing look on her face.

Brian groaned to himself. What did these people want from him? "Who are you, really?" Brian asked. Maybe if he could figure that out, he might have a better idea of what they wanted.

"Who do you think I am?" She asked, avoiding his question in that infuriating way she had. Well, if he were honest, that was the same way he generally avoided questions he didn't want to answer.

"An angel?" Brian scoffed, lacking any better ideas at the moment.

"Well, some people do refer to us as angels. I prefer 'messenger' myself. It's more specific." She said with a smile.

"So, who do you carry messages for?" Brian asked sarcastically, guessing the answer before he even heard it.

"Who do you think?" She actually seemed slightly surprised that Brian asked.

"God?" Brian asked derisively. He'd given up on Him long ago.

When she just smiled without answering, Brian groaned. Of course, who else could it be?

"Why would He give a fag another chance to fix his life?" Brian asked, still sarcastic. Then it dawned on him. "Oh, I get it. I'm supposed to repent for my sins, right? Tell Him I'm sorry because I like to fuck guys and promise to never stick my dick in any part of the male anatomy again? Well, fuck that!" Brian shouted.

When Angie didn't respond, Brian kept on with his rant. "If He didn't want me to enjoy a nice piece of male ass, then He shouldn't have made me this way. You might as well forget the next six days, because I'm not changing." Brian sat back and glared at her, angry at her and Him for thinking he'd ever change who he was.

"If you're finished with your temper tantrum..." Angie began, then waited a moment to see if he planned to continue. When Brian didn't, she stood up and gave him her no nonsense look, arms crossed over her chest again.

"You are exactly how He made you, Brian, and He doesn't make mistakes. He loves you the way you are and He doesn't expect you to change that part of yourself."

Brian was starting to get a little confused at this point, but figured there had to be a catch somewhere. He'd just wait until she got to it.

"He did, however, give you gifts that He expects you to use, which you aren't. <b><i>That</i></b> is what He has given you this chance to change."

"What 'gifts'?" Brian asked warily.

Angie sat back down and leaned forward. She actually looked, and sounded, very earnest when she spoke again. "Brian, you have an amazing capacity to love others which you have buried so deep inside you that no one else knows it even exists."

Not 'no one', Brian thought to himself. There was one who believed it.

She smiled as she watched his face. "You're right, he always has believed in you." She confirmed his unspoken observation.

"Then why did he leave?" Brian asked in a very small, little boy voice that he didn't even know he had.

"He's tired, Brian. He's spent years trying to get you to believe in yourself the way he believes in you, but you've fought him every step of the way." Angie took his hand in hers as she spoke softly. "He just needs a little time to recharge. He hasn't given up on you yet, he just doesn't have the energy to fight you right now."

"He'll come home?" Brian asked, hating how his voice broke when he asked that question.

"That's up to you, Brian." Angie said sadly. "Will you be there for him to come home to?"

Brian knew what she meant. He had six days left. It didn't seem like nearly enough time.

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