Phone Call from Santa

Disclaimer: Don't own, so don't sue.

A/N: Even though you'll probably figure out which Mike and Billie are talking, the 'other ones' (you'll figure it out) will speak and do their actions in italics.

Phone Call from Santa
Chapter Four: Breaking Billie

When Mike 'woke up' he was standing inside a house he recognized all too well. Billie's house. Well, Billie's old house. Childhood home, isn't that what they called it?

And then he became all too aware that Billie's dead father was standing next to him. Mike sort of leaned away from him, eyeing him suspiciously. Even if this was a dream, standing next to Billie's dead dad was a little freaky.

The door to Billie's bedroom opened just as Mike realized what room he was in. Twelve-year-old versions of him and Billie entered the room and sat down on the bed.

"Watch his face." Mike was ordered.

"Christmas is going to be awesome this year." Mike said. "The party at school and everything. Freaking eighth graders, Billie. Isn't that cool?"

Billie shrugged. "I guess. I just want Christmas Eve to get here. My mom and I always sit outside on Christmas Eve until midnight."

"Why?" Mike raised his eyebrow, thinking 'you're a little weird'.

"So we can see Santa." Billie said as if it were the most obvious thing on the planet.

Mike burst out laughing. "Don't tell me you still believe in Santa, Billie Joe."

Billie looked at his best friend, confused. "What are you talking about? Of course, I still 'believe' in Santa." He cocked his head to the side. "Because he's real, you know?"

Mike snorted. "Yeah, right. You still believe in the Tooth Fairy?"

Billie shook his head. "That's kid stuff."

"Well, so's Santa." Mike shot back. "I can't believe your parents didn't tell you yet. I found out when I was six and I caught my dad putting stuff in my stocking at two in the morning."

Billie's face fell.

Mike moved toward the bed, looking rather upset. He reached for the younger Billie Joe, but his hands went right through the boy.

"You wanted to grow up too fast." Billie's father explained. "And Billie just wanted to stay a kid a little bit longer."

"I can't believe I was such a dick." Mike said. "I totally forgot about this."

Billie's father opened the bedroom door and they walked down the hallway to the living room where it was obviously a few days later. Christmas Eve.

"I don't want to wait outside!" Billie yelled at his mother. "It's all fake! You lied to me! Santa's not real, okay? I'm not a kid anymore!"

The woman nodded. "All right." she said softly, walking toward the bedroom.

A few minutes later, Billie's stepfather emerged from the same bedroom. "Making your mother cry on Christmas?" he hissed. "What the fuck is wrong with you, you stupid bastard?"

Billie gasped as he was backhanded viciously. Staring at the man who was married to his mother, he fought tears and ran to his room, slamming the door.

Mike's hand was at his mouth. "Oh my God." His eyes were wide. He looked at Billie's dad. "That was a one time thing, right? I mean, he didn't do that again, did he?"

The silence was a good enough answer.

"Can I wake up now?" Mike asked, tears shining in his eyes. "Please? I need to talk to him. I need to fucking wake up."

"You're not asleep."

"Like hell I'm not." Mike snapped. "I'm fucking dreaming and I get it, all right? But I need to talk to him."

Billie's father shook his head. "Not yet. You still have two more people to answer to."

*

Mike's eyes flew open and he was on the couch. He touched himself, his arms, his hair, his cheeks, then turned to make sure there were no dead people lurking behind his couch.

"Billie." he said, standing up to move toward the front door. "Shit." he said, when he saw a short shadow in front of the door. "I thought I told you to stay in bed."

The figure stepped into the light. A brunette, not one of his daughters. She had curly hair. "You shouldn't curse in front of children." The nine-year-old said sternly.

"And just who the hell might you be?" Mike snapped. "The ghost of Christmas present?"

"Yes, actually." the girl snapped. "I'm Adrienne's inner child and if you'll shut the hell up, I'm going to show you your damn husband, all right?"

Mike's eyes widened a little at being told off by a nine-year old ... spirit?

Adrienne opened the door. Mike cursed.

---

Hahahaha!!! I am such a bitch.

I couldn't come up with anyone, so I used Adrienne's inner child. I was going to have it be Kayla, but I decided not to. It just seemed wrong.

Whadya think?