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thosehallowedhalls · 3 months

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The 2 AM Christmas Tree Farm (1/2)

Pairing: Trystan Thorne/MC (Emma Rose)

Summary: Trystan is haunted by regrets. But when he's granted a wish to undo the worst of them, he finds that the price might be more than he's willing to pay.

@choicesjanuary2024 @lilyoffandoms Day 10, "Change"

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

When the first flurries of snow fall and Christmas lights begin to go up, Trystan always battles a certain melancholy. Growing up, the holiday season was a time of year when royal responsibilities were somehow more overwhelming. His mother always breathed down his neck a little extra hard, which made the extra number of public appearances, guests, and boring so-called ‘parties’ more unbearable.

Then, during the one holiday he spent with Juliana, things shifted. Juli loved Christmas. Her enthusiasm and joy were so contagious that Trystan found himself genuinely enjoying it for the first time. She talked about the annual Christmas ball they would hold when they were king and queen, and she swore it would be an enjoyable one - unlike his parents' usual tedious affair.

He has wrestled with bittersweet memories ever since.

But this year is different. This year, he has Emma. She makes everything better, and he finds himself looking forward to the season for the first time in years. She always makes sure to attend the Rockefeller Center tree lighting in honor of her dad. He’s looking forward to going with her this year. He’s looking forward to a lot of things.

He can’t completely banish the regrets, though. This year, Sebastyan has joined Juli in his personal hall of ghosts. He no longer blames himself for their deaths, but he doesn’t think he’ll ever fully get over the guilt of not seeing that they needed protection.

He hasn’t told Emma this, but he imagines she knows. She has her own regrets, after all. Her own ghosts.

“Trystan, are you going to help or are you just going to fool around?” Exasperated, Emma tries to wrestle the Christmas lights out of his hands.

He pretends to think about it. Then he wraps them around her. “Option B.”

She blows the hair out of her face. “Seriously?”

He plugs in the lights and grins when she starts to sparkle. “Oh yeah. They look much better on you than they would on the tree.”

“You know, when you asked me to help you put up some Christmas decorations, I assumed that we’d be decorating the tree.”

“But you’re so much more interesting than a tree.”

“Then why, exactly, did we bother going to that horrifyingly packed tree farm yesterday?” She shudders. “Seriously, when a New Yorker tells you that a place is bound to be too busy, listen to her.”

“But the people were the best part! When those two elderly gentlemen almost came to fisticuffs over the tallest fir? The angst. The drama.”

“The extra half an hour that breaking them up added to our day.”

He waves this aside. “You’re determined to see only the negative. Besides,” he wiggles his eyebrows. “Didn’t I make it up to you when we got back to my apartment?”

Her lips twitch. “We could’ve had another two hours for you to make it up to me if we’d had a tree delivered.”

Trystan gives her a pitying look. “What would your father say about having a Christmas tree delivered?”

“… He would say only philistines do such a thing. How could you possibly know that?”

“Easy. A man who takes his daughter to see the tree lighting every year is a man who takes Christmas seriously.” He wraps his arms around her waist, pulls her still glittering form close. “I intend to carry the torch.”

She gives him a suspicious look. “Am I being managed? Did you ask me to decorate with you to make sure I have fun this Christmas?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m simply lazy and unwilling to decorate an entire tree by myself.”

“Did you even have a Christmas tree these last eight years?”

“Naturally. The biggest tree of them all. A veritable tree farm in my living room.”

She kisses his jaw. “Not that I want you to make managing me a habit, but… thanks.” With a sigh, she pulls back. “It’s getting late. I have to go.”

“Stay,” he murmurs, his lips against hers.

“I can’t.” She nuzzles his neck, her tone making it clear she wishes she could. “Tommy has a date with Sofia. I promised to tend bar tonight.”

“Responsibility isn’t all it’s cracked up to be,” he says forlornly.

“Welcome to adulthood.” With a last kiss, she walks out.

He drops down on the couch, intending to watch a movie, but finds himself musing on Emma’s words.

Did you even have a Christmas tree these last eight years?

He tried once, the second Christmas after Juliana’s death. But it felt like a mockery. An accusation. Christmas was always Juliana’s thing, so what right did he have to enjoy it? Why should he have a good time after failing to save her?

As usual over the last several weeks, thoughts of Juliana turn to thoughts of Sebastyan. Bas always did enjoy Christmas more than him. Did Juli’s death also ruin the holiday for him? He could ask Mags or Lydea, but he isn't sure he wants to know.

He wishes he had not drunk so much the night of Mags’ debut. That he hadn’t fallen asleep almost as soon as he and Juli fell into bed. That he had been a better brother to Bas. That he’d been able to save them both.

Perhaps, if she had lived, Bas’ life would have been different. He never saw the charm and warmth that Marguerite talks about, but they apparently existed once. Maybe he would have moved on with his life without the specter of Juliana to haunt him. Fallen in love with someone else. Been happy.

Maybe.

Regrets coursing through his veins, useless wishes clamoring in his heart, Trystan dozes off.

The scent is the first thing that stands out to him. It’s easy enough to recognize – after all, it was filling his nostrils only yesterday. Firs and spruces, hot cocoa and candy. The Christmas tree farm where he spent a chaotic yet marvelous afternoon with Emma.

What in the world is he doing here?

“Hello?”

“Oh, hello.” The man who sold them his fir yesterday smiles. “I was wondering when you’d arrive.”

“You were… what?”

“Lots of visitors this time of year,” the man, his name tag reads Jacob, says.

“Well, yes. I would assume that late November is a busy time for Christmas tree farms.”

“Indeed.” Jacob nods sagely. “And an even busier time for regrets.”

Well aware that he sounds like a broken record, Trystan blinks. “What?”

“That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? That’s why everyone is here.”

“About that. You sure work late. Or early, depending on your perspective.”

Jacob waves this off. “2 AM is the perfect time for regrets. No other time of day invites them quite as enticingly.”

Trystan shakes his head. “I’m afraid you’ve lost me."

"You have regrets, don’t you?”

“Who doesn’t?”

“Ordinarily, you deal with them well. But every once in a while, they suffocate you.” His gaze sharpens. “Tell me, Trystan, if you could have a second chance, if you could undo a regret… what would it be?”

He's given up on trying to understand what's happening. The oddity of the question doesn't register anymore. It only brings back to the surface the wish that's been playing on his mind in a painful loop. “I would save Juli and Bas.”

The alarm goes off too early, as it invariably does. He stirs when he feels lips on his cheek, fingers trailing down his chest.

“Mm. ‘S nice.”

The responding giggle is melodious, beautiful, and very familiar. It sounds an awful lot like… like…

“Good morning, my love.”

His eyes snap open. Awareness slams into him like a freight train. “Juli?”

“For your sake, you had better not have anyone else waking you like this,” she teases. “Happy Christmas Eve. Now get out of bed and let’s get to work.”

“Juli? He asks again, dumbfounded and wondering when in the world he started lucid dreaming. Because this… surely it is only a dream?

Concern softens her features. “Darling, are you all right? Do you want me to fetch the doctor?”

He struggles into a sitting position, feeling the silk against his skin and realizing that… oh. This isn’t a dream. But then…

I would save Juli and Bas.

Oh my god.

“Juliana?”

“That is my name, yes.” Her tone is light, but she only looks more concerned. “Wait here, I’ll have Elias call the doctor.”

“No, wait.” His hand shoots out, taking hold of her wrist. “How are you here? How am I here?”

“Where else would we be? The Christmas Ball can’t very well happen without us.”

The Christmas Ball?

He looks at her, truly looks at her. She’s as beautiful as always, but there’s a new maturity to her face. This Juliana has lived longer than twenty-two years. “What year is it?”

Her eyebrows disappear under her hair. “Oh no. Please tell me you aren’t hungover. We have a million things to do today.”

Trystan tries to smile. “Humor me?”

“2023, of course. Same as the last 356, and the next eight, days.”

She’s thirty now.

She’s alive.

He throws his arms around her in a hug so sudden that Juliana squeaks in surprise. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

She curls into him, bringing on a deluge of emotion and memories that nearly topple him where he stands. She still wears the same perfume. “Likewise, husband of mine.”

Husband? But…

She presses her lips to his, tenderly stroking his cheek. For a moment, Trystan holds motionless. Part of him feels twenty-two again, kissing the woman he loves when love is a new and dazzling experience that he never expected to have. But deep inside, a voice blares a warning.

Wrong.

He pulls back. Juliana considers it a tacit suggestion.

“Yes, yes, you’re right. We need to get to work. There are a hundred details to finalize and even more to double check. I’m happy that we’re to finally be the hosts of this ball, but I don’t think I truly realized how much work it was going to be.”

If they’re hosting the Christmas Ball, then that means he’s… and they’re…

Fear trails cold fingers down his spine, and he finishes untangling himself in a burst of panic.

Where is Emma?

“Well? Are you ready to get started?”

His royal training kicks in, allowing him to keep his turmoil in check. “Right, yes. Remind me what’s on the agenda for today?”

She rattles off an intimidatingly long list, complete with receiving the guests who would be arriving for the week. “Bas and Em will be here any minute now. Play nice.”

It’s unexpected that Sebastyan and Emika would arrive anywhere together, but the warning is fair – or it would be, if he weren't so relieved that his brother is alive. Presumably, he thinks with a pang of shame, this Trystan still despises his little brother. “I’ll do my best.”

“I mean it, Trystan. You know she doesn’t like you, and the last thing we need is you antagonizing one of our guests.”

He stops. “She?”

“Oh, please get it together. Emma already didn’t like you before. Now that she and Bas are together, she’s unlikely to see you in a more positive light. You know how in love they are.”

Everything inside of him goes cold.

It can’t be.

“Of course. What is Emma’s last name again?”

She gives him a look. “Trystan, darling, Rose is hardly a difficult name to remember. What is the matter with you today?”

“It’s n-nothing. Give me a moment.”

He locks himself in the bathroom before she can reply.

He can’t breathe.

Emma doesn’t like, let alone love him. She’s in love with someone else. With his brother. The words keep replaying in his mind, equally unbelievable each time. It’s like someone completely changed the rules of the game and threw away the handbook.

He doesn't know how to live in a world where Emma doesn’t love him.

All this time, when he was wishing he could have saved Juliana, he never stopped to consider that if he had, he and Emma wouldn’t be together. Much less that Emma might be with Bas.

What the hell does he do now?

The thought emerges fully formed. I want to go back. But can he truly wish for a world where Juliana and Sebastyan are dead, simply because the woman he loves is in love with someone else? Is he truly that selfish?

Trystan emerges back into the suite with a forced smile. “You go ahead, I’ll get dressed and meet you in a moment.”

His heart is hammering in his chest when he heads to the front entrance, fully dressed and looking as regal as he’s capable of looking. Juliana is hugging Bas, and right next to him is… He sucks in a breath, drinking in the sight of Emma, holding back the desire to rush to her side and take her in his arms. Then she looks up and sees him standing at the top of the staircase.

Her smile fades.

His heart trembles. Even when they first met, before he wormed his way into her good graces, Emma never looked at him with such patent dislike.

Juli and Bas break apart, and she moves to hug her. “It’s so good to see you! It’s been too long.”

“I know. I’ve been busy. For that matter, so have you.”

Juliana waves this off. “Never too busy for a friend. I thought you’d be coming over sooner. Didn’t you arrive a few days ago? Oh, what am I saying. Bas wasn’t going to let you out of his apartment after spending all that time apart.”

Sebastyan wraps a possessive arm around Emma’s shoulders. “I didn’t get to see her in over two months. I wasn’t ready to share her.”

Juliana laughs, then glances over her shoulder. “Trystan! What are you doing up there? Come greet our guests.”

Somehow, his feet carry him to the foot of the stairs. “Hello, Bas. Emma. It’s good to see you both.”

“Trystan.” Sebastyan’s stiff tone says that he doesn’t like him any more than he did in the original timeline. But Trystan can tell he’s making an effort, probably for Juliana’s sake. “We appreciate the welcome.”

“No need. This is your home, too.” It’s probably Sebastyan’s home more than it’s ever been Trystan’s, but that’s neither here nor there. His eyes slide over to Emma’s.

She lifts her chin a fraction. “Your Majesty.”

It’s all wrong. Emma has called him Your Majesty before, but the tone was always affectionate and teasing. This… this sounds like she’s talking to his mother. Polite. Formal. Cold.

“Please, Trystan is fine.” He holds out a hand, and after a brief hesitation, she takes it. He resists the impulse to pull her to him, but he can’t help savoring the feel of her skin.

Emma’s hand tenses in his, and he realizes that he’s been holding on to it. He lets her go quickly. “Well, you should be shown where you're staying.”

Juliana gives him an odd look. “They already know where they're staying. In the same room where Bas lived for twenty years, and where they stay every time they come over.”

He would be more confused by that twenty years remark if the singular room hadn’t sucker punched him. His gaze falls on their entwined hands. “Of course. My apologies, I’m afraid I’m running on little sleep today.”

All three of them look like they don't quite believe him. But Emma… Emma looks the way she always does when a new mystery fires up her mind. He can practically hear the cogs of her mind turning.

Then she shrugs and turns to Sebastyan. "We should unpack."

Juliana smiles. "Certainly. Don't forget that we're having a small family dinner this evening."

"We'll be there," Sebastyan says, before wrapping an arm around Emma's waist. They both head upstairs.

Trystan's gaze follows them. Sorrow swells up in his chest.

What the hell has he done?

#trystan x mc #trystan x emma #crimes of passion #trystan thorne #detective rose #emma rose #sebastyan thorne #juliana georgescu #the 2 am christmas tree farm #angst #all the angst #chapter 2 coming tomorrow

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tmnt-fun · 1 year

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Ha! Get adopted Suckers(Part 2)

Here is the second part! :D

Finally, after a bit of walking, they got to where the Mud Dogs were going to be staying for a while. Raph slowly sets the, almost asleep, Malicious Mickey down on the couch and tugs a blanket over him then looks at the other two, “Alright you two, you'll be staying here until I'm sure that you guys won't do anything to my brothers. I wouldn't suggest trying to leave, Donnie set up a few cameras and I will find out if you try to go” he said, while he was taking off their cuffs.

Loathsome Leonard makes a tsh sound and walks over falling back into the other chair putting his arms behind his head and shutting his eyes. “So one prison cell to another, peachy.” Dastardly Danny looks at Raph, then turns his head away huffing softly, and goes to sit down too.

Even if he respected that he was trying to help them, Dastardly Danny did not like the red turtle. Backstabber.

A damn liar.

“So how old are you even?” Loathsome Leonard asks, looking over at the turtle, squinting a little at him. He figured maybe around the same age as them. They're all 24ish.

Raph makes a small oh sound then rubs at his neck, with that dumb little nervous grin he gets when he was, of course, nervous, “I'm 18.”

Dastardly Danny blinks at that and turns his head to look at him, Loathsome Leonard doing the same, “Wait you're only 18?” he looks down, doing the math on his fingers then puts his hands down onto the table he was sitting in front of, “That means you were only 15?!”

Malicious Mickey got startled awake, sitting up which causes him to shock the couch and he looks around, then rubs at his eyes with his flippers, “Why are we shouting?” He wanted to be part of it!

“This boy was only 15 when we first met em!” Dastardly Danny points at Raph who was now... feeling a little uncomfortable? Why did that matter? He looks around, poking his fingers together.

Malicious Mickey blinks at that and sits up, looking at Raph, “You were only 15? Dude! That's crazy. We almost killed you” Loathsome Leonard puts his hand on the side of his head. Damn man...

Raph laughs at that and scratches at his cheek, “Yeah, don't worry, you guys aren't the first ones to try to do that. Me and my brothers have almost been killed like... a lot” He waves his hand. “Course I'll always protect them, I'm the oldest out of us.”

That didn't make any of them feel any better...

Loathsome Leonard looks over, squinting, and asks, “When was the last time?”

Raph's eyes widen a little, opens his mouth, then shuts it again and turns his head away. He reaches up to mess with his mask tails a little then turns, and starts to walk, “I'm going to go get ya some food”

The three of them look at each other, all frowning at that. They were criminals and all, but they wouldn't kill a dang kid. “When do you guys think the last time was?” Malicious Mickey asks.

“Well, Malicious Mickey, from the fact that he messed with his mask, I'mma say whatever caused him to have that pink eye of his.” Dastardly Danny says, crossing his arms over his chest.

“No way guys, we are not gonna start feeling bad for this little shit. Remember what he did” Loathsome Leonard says, moving his arms to form an X over his chest, shaking his head. “I don't care that he got us outta that place, we would have gotten out ourselves”

The other two shrug at that, and Malicious Mickey says, “But he's helping us now. You guys shoulda felt the way his arms feel holding you” He moves his flippers around himself, like he was hugging himself, smiling, “It felt like a blanket”

“Ah shut up Malicious Mickey” Dastardly Danny huffs softly, turning his head away and sinking down in the chair. He felt... weird. He wanted to be mad at the red turtle, and he was! Just... not as bad as before.

He sorta understood why Raph lied to them, now that he thought about it. He got mistaken as someone that he wasn't, they were criminals; of course anyone would be freaked out and do anything to not get their butts beat.

That didn't make it a better thing to do, but it did allow him to realize WHY he did it.

The Mud Dogs looked up when Raph comes back in, holding a tray smiling. “I got something my brother made, Mikey's the best cook. I think you guys would like it” he sets the tray down onto the table. His tail was swaying which Loathsome Leonard paid attention to.

Ha... weirdo.

“Oh sweet!” Malicious Mickey leans over to look in the tray, sniffing “Guys this smells awesome” Raph cuts some out, and puts it on a plate, then onto Malicious Mickey's lap “Here, help yourself. You guys can have as much as you want and if you want more, just tell me”

Dastardly Danny lets out a hum and reaches over to cut himself some, taking a bite and his own tail did a little bit of shifting. Hey, come on, they've been criminals! They don't exactly eat very well.

And this was REALLY good... cheesy.

Loathsome Leonard looks away, huffing softly, “Ain't hungry” he pulls one of his knees up to his chest. Was he being a bit of a brat? Maybe a little. He was still angry. Yeah, the guy was a teen but still lied.

Malicious Mickey rolls his eyes and shoves the piece into his mouth, his cheeks puffing out making little happy sounds. Should he try to take smaller bites? Maybe, but no. No, he didn't think that he would.

“Not eating isn't going to show anyone that you're 'cooler' or anything Loathsome Leonard, it's just gonna make you grouchy so stop being petty and eat your meal,” Dastardly Danny says with a roll of his eyes. Raph went off to message his brothers, telling them that everything seemed to be going well.

He didn't tell them the... whole story, and they weren't really sure if it would be a good idea, but they couldn't say no to their leader... even more when Raph almost cried.

Weird...

Loathsome Leonard huffs but grumbles under his breath and gets himself a plate, taking a small bite then another bigger one.

Dastardly Danny gave him a knowing smirk which Loathsome Leonard turns away from to try to ignore it. Malicious Mickey giggles a little cause hey, that was silly.

“So... how long are we going to be staying here guys?” Malicious Mickey asks, looking at the other two after he swallowed and started to get another piece.

Loathsome Leonard shrugs his shoulders, “Not forever, but most likely a bit. We got a warm place to stay, an idiot taking care of us, and free food.” He leans back in the chair, putting his feet up onto the table and moving his arm behind his head, “Why wouldn't we stay for at least a little” Malicious Mickey smiles, clapping his flippers together then shoves the piece into his mouth again.

Dastardly Danny gave him a look then shakes his head and leans back to continue eating his.

How could this go wrong?

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