A Torchwood Nightmare Before Christmas (2/3)
Disclaimer: I own nothing...BBC and RTD (bastard) own Torchwood and Burton/Danny Elfman own the rest. This is what happens when I try to write Torchwood while listening to "Night mare Revisited," a redone compilation of Nightmare Before Christmas songs by modern artists. I beg you all for forgiveness beforehand.
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A Torchwood Nightmare before Christmas
Part Two: Making Christmas
The next, dank morning proved Ianto’s fears and forebodings.
He had managed to slip off to sleep, despite the whirlwind of thoughts going through his head, against that wall and had awoken to whispered and worried mutters about Jack and his obsession with the Christmas business. Well, as worried as the townspeople of Halloween could be. Deep inside, Ianto felt a tingle of agreement with them, but he also understood the emptiness Jack felt…he was all together torn on how he felt. All he did know was that the burning Christmas tree from his premonition could foretell nothing good about Jack’s obsession.
He pushed himself to his feet, wobbly with sleep and unaccustomed sleep positions that were new for his legs, and blinked as Jack threw open his windows and shouted out that he had finally understood what they needed to do. They needed to take over Christmas this year, do something so new and different that every child in the world would be amazed. It would be theirs this year! Predictably, all the rest started cheering and celebrating at his words, caught up in Jack’s fervor and passion for change, though Ianto highly doubted they felt the same burning desire for something new that Jack did. Ianto, however, felt a sick swoop of dread settle in his stomach, making his very stitches tingle in alarm of what would come now.
The ‘what’ actually turned out to be fairly simple…in order to best take over Christmas, they not only would have to divide it amongst themselves to do it properly, but they would also have to change it, make it better. For while Jack obviously adored what he saw in Christmas town, he couldn’t help but think it could stand to be improved, and naturally, he thought he was just the Pumpkin King to do it. Lining up outside the town hall to receive his assignment, Ianto could not fathom why, no matter how hard he thought about it.
It was in line that Ianto faced his first fear of complete freedom. He understood that by jumping out the window with what few belongings he liked enough to take with him, he basically informed Miss Yvonne that he had no intention of returning. What he had not understood would be her manic need for him to be brought back…why couldn’t she just make another creature, one that wouldn’t mind being at her beckon call? Surely it couldn’t be too difficult. But no, she had to search for him, and hearing the whirring of her wheelchair as he stood in line was quite possibly worse than a thistle morphing into a festive tree and spontaneously combusting before his eyes.
He ducked out of line, squeezing in between a rather large man with an axe sticking out the side of his head and a werewolf who smelled a tad like garbage (Ianto supposed it could have been worse) and sneaked into the building. It was only after he was inside, he heard their mayor, Martha, whose face was currently stressed and harried complete with ink blotches, that he heard the announcement for Yvonne to come to the front of the line. Cursing softly, he looked around hurriedly, swearing determinedly that he was not going back and he wasn’t losing any limbs in the process! He found a suitable enough nook hidden in a dark part of the building and crouched down, tucking himself tight against the wall and keeping his eyes peeled over the edge of a fallen over chair.
“Ah, professor, thank you so much for coming today!” Martha effused, her head whirring around and flashing her brilliant smile. She was actually quite lovely when happy.
“Yes, yes, get it out already. What do you want of me?”
“Professor, I need some of these.” Ianto had to squint to see what Jack motioned to in the open, brightly colored book. They looked like horses…horses with horns and they were harnessed to a large, red sleigh.
Yvonne stared at them for a moment, a contemplative glint in her squint. She patted at her exposed brain (the half of her head not encased in metal) and looked back at the ludicrously excited smile on Jack’s face. “Their construction should be quite simple, how many do you need?”
“Eight.”
Yvonne snapped the book away from him and closed with a sneering smile. “You can expect a bill. Pleasure doing business with you, Pumpkin King.”
Martha’s face whirled back to her less-than-pleased expression as Yvonne left. “She shouldn’t talk to you like that! Jack-Jack? Jack-where are you going?! I can’t make these decisions on my own! Oh-yes, uhm, Vampires…well what do you want to do?”
The mayor continued to fluster about a bit, not really comfortable with all this Christmas brouhaha, but Ianto’s eyes followed as Jack walked around the podium, bypassed the line, glared at Yvonne’s chair as it exited, and knelt down in front of his corner, eyes glinting in humor. Ianto met the grin with a carefully blank stare, not at all sure what this fluttering feeling in his stomach meant, but enjoying it just the same.
“Well, you’re new.”
“I expect we all are at some point, sir.” Jack smiled wider at the honorific and stood up, offering his hand to Ianto, who stared at it for a moment before he grasped it with his own stitched up hand.
“Just Jack…do you have a name?”
“Ianto.”
Jack smiled again, so wide that Ianto began to understand why he was called Skeleton Jack, and walked him back to the front of the line, looking with interest at how Ianto wobbled and at his stitches that showed. “So, Ianto, does the reason you were hiding coincide with who was just in here?”
Ianto wrinkled his brow at the confusing way the words were said. “If you’re asking if Yvonne was the reason I was hiding, then yes.”
Jack laughed circling around Ianto as if trying to catalogue him. “To the point, that’s refreshing!” He stopped circling and lifted up one of Ianto’s arms, looking at the stitches with curiosity. “Did she make you?”
Ianto nodded.
Jack nodded, looking at the stitches some more before he met Ianto’s eyes. “Do you know how to fix your stitches? Should you rip them?”
Ianto raised his eyebrow, crinkling the stitches at his temple. “Of course.”
Jack beamed and searched around his pile of Christmas things for a few moments, remerging with a picture of himself in a red suit with a hat and a sack. “How about I make you a deal, you make my Sandy Claws suit and I’ll personally make sure Yvonne never bothers you again, deal?”
It was so tempting Ianto almost forgot the terrifying premonition, especially with how close Jack was standing and how genuinely happy and excited he looked, but in the end, he didn’t. He gulped and looked at the picture that had been shoved into his hands, feeling the cold weight of indecision for the first time before he looked back up, uncertainty plain on his face. “I-I don’t think this is a good idea.”
“Of course it is! Who else could possibly be clever enough to make my Sandy Claws outfit?”
“No, not that, our Christmas…I had this vision and there was smoke and fire and-”
“That’s not my Christmas! My Christmas will be full of cheer and laughter!”
Ianto narrowed his eyes and clutched the picture tighter in his hands. “It’s going to be a disaster.”
“How can it? You just follow the pattern, this part is red and the trim is white. I know you’ll do wonderfully!”
Ianto stared at their Pumpkin King for a moment before he scooted out of line, letting a slimy and decaying young woman step forward and receive her duties, and all too familiar feeling welling up inside him. Disappointment. He sighed and looked at the red outfit he was supposed to make, the sense of wrongness and foreboding curling ever tighter in his stomach, wishing he could be swept up in all of the excitement, instead of feeling nothing but how wrong all of this was.
Ianto, somewhat dejectedly, made his way out of the town hall just as a trio of masked not-quite-children, not-quite-adults, stormed in, inciting some alarmed cries and Martha’s eyes to go wide in anxiety (which swiftly turned to anger when one of the trio hit her in the head with a piece of rotten candy). Jack, however, just looked pleased and strode forward.
“Jack! What are Boogie’s boys doing here?!” Martha all but hissed.
“Jack asked for us.”
“Specifically.”
“By name!”
The tall one in the red devil costume took off his mask and smiled most terribly, his entire face gaunt and a sickly-yellowish tint. “John.”
The shorter and only girl pulled off her witch mask, her blonde hair stringy and dank under her pointed hat; she smiled in a manner that managed to be both seductive and threatening. “Mary.”
The last boy stepped forward, pulling off his skeleton mask, possible the most gruesome of the three just because of his macabre smile and blue tint to his skin. “Adam.”
“Yes, Halloween’s finest trick-or-treaters!” Jack exclaimed as he knelt down and met each levelly, not at all intimidated by their fierce, mischievous grins. “The job I have for you is top-secret and important!”
“And we thought you didn’t like us, Jack,” Mary cooed.
Jack motioned the three in close and whispered his task for them, ignorant of the evil light that lit up each face. Kindap Mister Sandy Claws? Each giggled and nodded their excitement to Jack that they accepted this task.
“But remember, keep that no account, no good Oogie Boogie out of this!” Jack said, a sever expression on his face.
“Of course not, Jack,” simpered John.
“Wouldn’t dream of it, Jack,” Adam chimed in.
“Good. Remember to be gentle with him, treat him nicely!”
Martha all but whimpered and laid her head on the podium, beyond caring about the ink stains.
Jack remained oblivious as the trio crossed their black little hearts and made their way back to their tree house, too caught up in his own excitement to heed Ianto’s warnings or stop to think that Master Oogie’s boys might be lying to him or even that Sandy Claws might very well not want to give up his holiday! So convinced that this Christmas thing would fill the void within him, he ignored all other logic and who he was. But our story is not over yet, never fear, and they may yet be time for him to find what’s missing.
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The days turned into weeks, and all the days were busy and bustling for two very different worlds. In Christmas town, the little elves and helpers continued, merrily, in making toys, baking pies, polishing the sleigh, and all other jolly sorts of jobs, all together quite ignorant that another world was doing the same thing. The town of Halloween had thrown every creative thought they had into making their own Christmas, and to them, it was coming along beautifully. But, their idea of wonderful and Christmas’ idea of wonderful were vastly different and it is safe to say that Halloween’s Christmas was all together terrifying. Not that Jack or any of the other townsfolk took notice.
No, only Ianto felt wrong with what they were doing, sitting aside from all the excitement stitching together a red suit, occasionally watching the others smash toys and refigure them into ‘better’ ones. Toys that said ‘mama’ or looked hideously cute were just not proper toys and so the townsfolk had to improve them; it wouldn’t do if they ruined Christmas with improper toys now would it? Ianto knew that he was still quite new…but for some reason he did not think that his fellow Halloween townsfolk were getting this Christmas thing right. Jack had shown them brightness and color, a beauty that was alien to them and a cheerful aura that was being utterly squashed in their Christmas.
And so, the weeks did speed by until nearly two months had passed and Christmas was almost upon them, their makeshift countdown showing that they had only one week until Christmas Eve. And it was then that John, Mary, and Adam reappeared, lugging a fearsome walking bathtub behind them, a quivering form in a bag within the rusted porcelain. All motion stopped and everyone gathered around, Jack pushing to the front. Ianto peered down from his perch in the old oak tree, tightening up the loose stitches on his left wrist.
“Jack, we got ‘im! We got ‘im!” They each took off their masks and smiled widely and opened the bag…and out hopped a very confused rabbit. He sniffed the air and stared widely at a man with half his head hanging off, screaming before he dove back into the black bag, all the while Jack frowned in obvious disappointment. Ianto smirked and rested his head on his hands, leaning forward against the branch as he watched.
“This isn’t Sandy Claws.”
“It isn’t?” John asked confused.
“But we went through the door!” Adam spoke up.
“Which door, there’s more than one! Sandy Claws is behind the door shaped like this!” And Jack held up a cookie shaped like a Christmas tree that was indeed a striking likeness to the door to Christmas town. Appropriate realization washed over each face and Mary scowled angrily as she began to strangle John, Adam hitting her upside the head.
“I told you, idiots!”
They squabbled like children for a few moments before, fed up, Jack made a scary face that was truly gruesome, pulling down his mouth so the skin revealed the flesh beneath, his teeth sharpening into vicious fangs. John, Mary, and Adam gasped out in fright and huddled close, all thoughts of fighting gone from their heads. Jack nodded at them sternly and turned back to the quivering bag.
“I am terribly sorry for the inconvenience; we’ll get you back home in no time.” He turned back toward the trio and stood up to his full height. “Take him home first, and apologize again!”
They nodded and hurried away; they resumed their hitting of each other once they were further away. Ianto smiled wider and shook his head laughter, not dropping the smile one bit when Jack swaggered over and stared up at him with an exasperated look on his face.
“It’s not really funny.”
“I beg to differ, sir.”
Jack’s frown turned upward and his eyes gleamed. Again, Ianto almost was able to forget how big of a mistake all of this Christmas business was, but he was jolted back when the witch Tosh flew over and proudly showed an ecstatic Jack her demented looking doll. He sighed and slid out of the tree, heading back to his little alcove where his work awaited him, glancing one last time behind him as Jack walked further and further away, already immersed in his Christmas-that-was-doomed. He frowned as he weaved in and out between townsfolk, happy that Yvonne had been consumed with the reindeer construction and apparently a new, ‘improved’ replacement for him. He had been excited about these strange and new feelings at first but now…now they just seemed a bother.
He worked and worked on the red suit for the rest of the week, conscious of the gap that appeared between himself and everyone else the closer Christmas Eve came but trying not to let it bother him too much, until he was finishing up the suit on Jack himself. Who looked all together much too pleased with himself for Ianto’s liking. Jack’s pale and gaunt form was emphasized in the red suit, which really emphasized how dead he was, but he didn’t seem to notice.
“You don’t really look yourself.”
“I know, isn’t wonderful?” Ianto scowled at Jack, his needle poised over some of the white trimming he was fitting to his wrist.
“But-but you’re the Pumpkin King, why are you-”
“Not anymore! I feel so much better now!”
“But…”
“Ow.” Ianto glanced down, in some embarrassment, at where he had pricked Jack’s finger. He sighed and began stitching up the cuff again.
“Jack, I know you think something’s missing but maybe it’s-”
“You’re absolutely right, something is missing!” Ianto looked up in surprise, nearly dropping the needle to the ground…until he saw that Jack was still studying his reflection. “But what could it be? I’ve got the beard, the belt, the shoes…what could it be?”
Ianto glared at him for a bit before he rolled his eyes in disgust and went back to his stitching.
He tried to think of how to bring up the topic again, how to make Jack see that his premonition, whether true or not, should be warning enough to stop all this foolish Christmas business, when excited voices called out for Jack. Into the town square came John, Mary, and Adam, their walking bathtub trailing behind them, holding another squirming body inside the black bag. Jack practically leapt from the stool and headed towards them, all the other townsfolk gathering close to in their curiosity.
“We got him this time, Jack!”
“Yeah, this time for sure!”
“He sure is strange, Jack!”
And, as if on cue, Ianto saw a rather skinny man pop his head out of the bag. It was odd because Ianto had been sure in the books Jack had, Sandy Claws was fat and old, not skinny and young. The man clambered out of the bag and met Jack’s somewhat unsure stare with a friendly one of his own.
“Hello there! Funny sort of place you got here…very dismal but in a charming way!”
“Excuse me…but are you San-?”
“Oh, yes! I know I look a bit different, but let’s be honest, the fatness and beard are really just for the kids, can’t expect me to walk around like that the other 364 days of the year, can you? So, want to let me know why I was kidnapped?”
Satisfied, Jack smiled wide and motioned to the entire crowd around him, which was fearsome looking, but Sandy Claws did not look too perturbed. “Well, this year, we’ve decided to give you a vacation! You won’t have to worry about a thing…surprised? I knew you would be!”
The man frowned, looking a bit worried now, and was about to voice his objection when Jack let out a happy yell and snatched his hat off his head. The man looked affronted and patted his untidy brown hair in disbelief. “I believe there’s been some sort of mistake, you see, I can’t just take a vacation, it’s Christmas Eve...and give me back my hat, you scoundrel!”
Jack placed the hat on his head and began practicing his ‘Ho Ho Ho’s’ (which sounded remarkably like cackles), heedless of how the skinny man, who was Sandy Claws, was forced back into the bag and taken away by three maniacal teenagers. Ianto had had enough. He was going to stop this craziness and he was going to do it now. He had let it go on for too long as it was…he knew that if his Christmas failed, Jack would free Sandy Claws from wherever he was being taken to (which couldn’t be anywhere good) and everything would go back to how it was supposed to be.
He knew Yvonne’s lab would be vacant, as she was helping harness her robotic looking reindeer to the coffin-turned-sleigh with her newer, much more obedient creation that was also much more alike in her appearance, so sneaking into the kitchen wouldn’t be difficult. And neither was finding what he needed once inside.
Fog Juice.
“This will stop him.”
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While all of this was going on, Sandy Claws, whose name was really Santa Clause but like being called Doctor when not on duty for reasons only known to him, was being dragged away by three very naughty teenagers. Before he knew it, he was being shoved down a pipe and was tumbling down, down, down until he hit bottom, feeling quite dizzy and puzzled. When he had woken up that morning, he had not expected to get kidnapped by monsters, learn that HIS holiday was being hijacked, and that he now was stranded in what appeared to be some kind of psychedelic bomb shelter. Needless to say, the day had not turned out the way he thought it would when he woke up that morning. He got to his feet, which he thought was quite the feat with his hands being tied and all, and took a cautionary glance around.
And then the jazzy music started and he felt a pit of dread settle in his stomach.
“Well, well, well, what have we here? Sandy Claws uh? Yeah, I’m really scared…so you’re the one everybody’s been talking about.”
“Well, yes, I suppose I am. Would you mind terribly if I just nipped on out though? I’m afraid some of your fellow townsfolk are about to massacre my holiday so-”
The rest of his words died in his throat as the disembodied voice finally came into view. He was tall and grotesque, much more than any of the other monsters he had seen today, and his smile opened into black nothingness, wide and splitting nearly his entire face in half. He had no eyes, just two black voids and was alit in a poisonous green light. His skin looked rough, like burlap, and when he walked, his body looked quite unstable, shifting and moving in a way that didn’t suggest flesh or organs. The Doctor took a step back and worried his bottom lip a bit.
“Oh brother, you’re something! You aren’t comprehending the position that you’re in. It’s over, you’re finished, you haven’t got a pray…because I’m Mr. Oogie Boogie and you ain’t going nowhere.”
The Doctor aka Santa aka Sandy Claws cringed and tried to ignore how the psychedelic bomb shelter looked much more like a neon torture chamber. “Well, what are you going to do?”
Oogie Boogie smiled all the wider and leaned in close, relishing in how his pray cringed back. “I’m gonna do the best I can…and how about you call me Master…”
And then…everything went black.
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