Yes, Gus, There is a Santa Claus
Yes, Gus, There is a Santa Claus
Written by: sydneyalexis
Request: Christmas story, fluff with Gus
Requested by: cabbers
Gus was seven when he realized that Santa Claus wasn't real. And it wasn't some website he Googled or Bobby Jenkins, the class bully, who relayed the news. Okay…so maybe that meanie had first hinted at it, but Gus didn’t believe him. He’d been a good boy, and Santa had left all kinds of presents for him. But, one day, Gus stumbled upon something that sent his entire world into a tailspin.
It all started a year before when Gus wrote a letter to Santa asking for two big presents-a shiny, new bicycle and for his dads to come for a visit.
Despite the heavy, winter storm and his moms’ warnings that his Dads might not make it, Gus’ faith had never wavered, and, sure enough, the blizzard had let up enough for his Dads to make the long journey from Pittsburgh to Toronto in time for Christmas.
They had, in fact, arrived just as Gus stood in the doorway to the living room, eyes growing wide with shock at the mound of presents beneath the Christmas tree. And, even though they’d been up all night driving, Brian and Justin spent the rest of the morning teaching Gus how to ride his bicycle just like he’d wished for.
In Gus’ memory, the day had been utterly perfect-from his dads’ timely arrival to getting absolutely everything that he asked for to his dads tucking him in that night after reading How the Grinch Stole Christmas. The day had been so perfect in fact that, as the next Christmas rolled around, Gus could barely control his excitement. And so, two days after Thanksgiving, he willingly agreed to help his mom dig out the holiday decorations from the garage.
Gus would perfectly remember the moment forever; Lindsay had directed him towards one of the shelving units and told him to look for the labeled boxes. As he walked along the wall of the garage, he spotted it. Sitting high on a shelf, wedged between a box labeled ‘Taxes ’97-‘05’ and ‘Motorcycle Accessories’ was a large box partially hidden beneath a tarp. Enough of the title and picture, however, were showing for him to get suspicious.
Cautiously, Gus side-eyed his mother only to find her bent over an opened box, sorting through scraggly looking garland. Heart hammering in his chest for a sudden guilt he didn’t understand, Gus picked up the nearby broom and used the handle to push the tarp the rest of the way.
And there it was complete with the not-quite-scale picture and the title in broad, black letters-The Radio Flyer Bicycle.
The whoosh-thud of his heart grew stronger and was joined by a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. He felt hot and cold at the same time like his body was trying to reach equilibrium.
Gus tore his eyes away from the box. It couldn’t be real.
Swallowing hard, he looked back up to the top shelf again. The box hadn’t moved, hadn’t been part of his imagination.
His mind flashed back to Bobby Jenkins’ smug face as he told Gus Santa was all bunk.
The broom clattered out of his hand and hit the garage floor seconds before Gus took off for the house. He thundered up the stairs and threw himself onto the bed as the tears began to well in his eyes.
It couldn’t be true; Santa was real, wasn’t he?
Lindsay heard the clattering of something fall against the cement flooring and turned just in time to see Gus taking off like he’d been burned. It wasn’t until she bent down to retrieve the fallen broom that her eyes landed on the box her son had uncovered.
Sighing, she looked between the box and the door to the garage that was left wide open in his haste.
She’d always assumed Gus would be a little bit older before they would have to have this particular talk. Then again…
Knocking lightly on his door before pushing it all the way open, Lindsay was less than surprised to see her son flopped across the bed looking forlorn.
“Gus? Sweetie? You want to tell Mommy what happened?” she asked, sitting on the edge of the bed.
Biting his lower lip, Gus shook his head, not wanting to speak…to put it into words because that would make it real.
“You know Mommy can’t help you if you don’t tell her what’s wrong,” Lindsay ventured, watching as her son scrunched his nose up in thought.
“It’s just…I mean…I thought Santa brought me my bike…” Gus said, voice trailing off as he watched his mom for any sign that she understood.
“And what makes you think he didn’t?” Lindsay asked, smoothing Gus’ hair down.
“’Cause there’s a box for it in the garage,” he said, pausing for a moment before quickly adding, “I didn’t mean to find it. I just kinda saw it, and…”
Lindsay looked away for a moment, the crushed look on Gus’ face too much for her to handle. And then a thought occurred to her…
“Remember about a year ago your Momma bought that laptop?”
Gus nodded, confusion written all over his face.
“And you remember how she had problems with it so she boxed it all up and sent it back to get fixed?”
Once again he nodded.
“Well…you’re Momma and I keep the box out there in case there’s any problems with your bike.”
Offering a sad smile, Gus replied, “But I thought Santa’s elves were magic. That his toys didn’t break.”
Lindsay was quiet for a long moment before responding. “Not everything in life is guaranteed, kiddo,” she said, pausing to look away and clear her throat. “Now. What do you say you write up your new Christmas list? We need to send it off to Santa so he has enough time to get all the things you want.”
But Gus was a smart little boy; he put all the pieces together-the way the ‘From Santa’ tag was written in the same handwriting as his mother, the box that was hidden in the garage, and the way his mom wasn’t quite meeting his eyes. He also realized that she wanted to keep him clueless for a little while longer.
“Yeah, Mom,” he said, quietly. “I’ll write the letter and seal it up, and you can send it out for me tomorrow.”
Standing, he made his way over to his desk and made out the normal spiel before sealing it in an envelope and handing it over to Lindsay.
Gus watched from the landing of the stairs as his Mom pulled out a ballpoint pen, addressed the envelope, and slipped it into the stack of Christmas cards to go out.
As the day progressed, Gus kept eyeing the small entry table, mind fixated on the letter. His mother had taken the time to address the envelope and set it in the stack to bring to the post office. Why would she take the time to do it if there wasn’t somewhere to send it.
Had he been wrong?
If he were, would Santa put him on the "naughty list" for not believing?
And, if there wasn’t a Santa, how had he ended up getting exactly what he wanted all these years? His mom’s hadn’t seen last year’s list; he’d sealed it up before they even had a chance to look over it.
Unless they had opened it?
He went to bed that night and stared up at the ceiling, listening to his mothers move about the house. Gus' curiosity gnawed at him as the same questions circled in his head.
And so, he waited.
And waited.
And waited.
Until finally his mothers went to bed.
As quietly as he could, Gus snuck down the stairs. Inching one foot in front of the other, he felt along the wall, using his hands and arms to guide him until he felt it was safe enough to click on his flashlight.
Down the stairs he went, cringing as the third one from the bottom groaned a little.
Finally. Finally, he reached the small table near the door where the outgoing mail was stacked.
Tucking the flashlight beneath his chin, Gus began to shift through the Christmas cards-Ted, Emmett, Deb and Carl, Brian and Justin, and, just beneath that one, the slightly larger, Harry Potter stamped envelope he’d sealed hours before.
With shaking hands, he turned it over and saw who it was addressed to--Brian Kinney and Justin Taylor.
That was the moment Gus felt something move and shift inside himself as the events Christmases past crystallized in his mind.
The endless boxes delivered by UPS and FedEx after Thanksgiving.
How his entire list always seemed to be tucked beneath the tree
And how his dads always miraculously showed up when Gus had begged Santa for a visit.
Closing his eyes, Gus smiled slightly as he recalled that last year he’d asked Santa for his dads to fly up and see him…and to teach him how to ride a bike.
A bubble of laughter warmed its way through him as Gus realized that ‘Santa’ was none other than his fathers. The same ones who’d bought all those toys and appeared on Christmas. The same ones who let Gus think Santa did it, when, in fact, his dads had done it.
And they kept up the whole charade out of love.
As Gus tucked his letter back in the stack and crept back up the stairs, he realized he so should ask for more stuff next year…you know, before the parents realized that he knew that, yes, there was a Santa Claus, and his name was Dad.
A/N: Hugs and bunny slippers to shadownyc for the beta.
Written by: sydneyalexis
Request: Christmas story, fluff with Gus
Requested by: cabbers
Gus was seven when he realized that Santa Claus wasn't real. And it wasn't some website he Googled or Bobby Jenkins, the class bully, who relayed the news. Okay…so maybe that meanie had first hinted at it, but Gus didn’t believe him. He’d been a good boy, and Santa had left all kinds of presents for him. But, one day, Gus stumbled upon something that sent his entire world into a tailspin.
It all started a year before when Gus wrote a letter to Santa asking for two big presents-a shiny, new bicycle and for his dads to come for a visit.
Despite the heavy, winter storm and his moms’ warnings that his Dads might not make it, Gus’ faith had never wavered, and, sure enough, the blizzard had let up enough for his Dads to make the long journey from Pittsburgh to Toronto in time for Christmas.
They had, in fact, arrived just as Gus stood in the doorway to the living room, eyes growing wide with shock at the mound of presents beneath the Christmas tree. And, even though they’d been up all night driving, Brian and Justin spent the rest of the morning teaching Gus how to ride his bicycle just like he’d wished for.
In Gus’ memory, the day had been utterly perfect-from his dads’ timely arrival to getting absolutely everything that he asked for to his dads tucking him in that night after reading How the Grinch Stole Christmas. The day had been so perfect in fact that, as the next Christmas rolled around, Gus could barely control his excitement. And so, two days after Thanksgiving, he willingly agreed to help his mom dig out the holiday decorations from the garage.
Gus would perfectly remember the moment forever; Lindsay had directed him towards one of the shelving units and told him to look for the labeled boxes. As he walked along the wall of the garage, he spotted it. Sitting high on a shelf, wedged between a box labeled ‘Taxes ’97-‘05’ and ‘Motorcycle Accessories’ was a large box partially hidden beneath a tarp. Enough of the title and picture, however, were showing for him to get suspicious.
Cautiously, Gus side-eyed his mother only to find her bent over an opened box, sorting through scraggly looking garland. Heart hammering in his chest for a sudden guilt he didn’t understand, Gus picked up the nearby broom and used the handle to push the tarp the rest of the way.
And there it was complete with the not-quite-scale picture and the title in broad, black letters-The Radio Flyer Bicycle.
The whoosh-thud of his heart grew stronger and was joined by a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. He felt hot and cold at the same time like his body was trying to reach equilibrium.
Gus tore his eyes away from the box. It couldn’t be real.
Swallowing hard, he looked back up to the top shelf again. The box hadn’t moved, hadn’t been part of his imagination.
His mind flashed back to Bobby Jenkins’ smug face as he told Gus Santa was all bunk.
The broom clattered out of his hand and hit the garage floor seconds before Gus took off for the house. He thundered up the stairs and threw himself onto the bed as the tears began to well in his eyes.
It couldn’t be true; Santa was real, wasn’t he?
Lindsay heard the clattering of something fall against the cement flooring and turned just in time to see Gus taking off like he’d been burned. It wasn’t until she bent down to retrieve the fallen broom that her eyes landed on the box her son had uncovered.
Sighing, she looked between the box and the door to the garage that was left wide open in his haste.
She’d always assumed Gus would be a little bit older before they would have to have this particular talk. Then again…
Knocking lightly on his door before pushing it all the way open, Lindsay was less than surprised to see her son flopped across the bed looking forlorn.
“Gus? Sweetie? You want to tell Mommy what happened?” she asked, sitting on the edge of the bed.
Biting his lower lip, Gus shook his head, not wanting to speak…to put it into words because that would make it real.
“You know Mommy can’t help you if you don’t tell her what’s wrong,” Lindsay ventured, watching as her son scrunched his nose up in thought.
“It’s just…I mean…I thought Santa brought me my bike…” Gus said, voice trailing off as he watched his mom for any sign that she understood.
“And what makes you think he didn’t?” Lindsay asked, smoothing Gus’ hair down.
“’Cause there’s a box for it in the garage,” he said, pausing for a moment before quickly adding, “I didn’t mean to find it. I just kinda saw it, and…”
Lindsay looked away for a moment, the crushed look on Gus’ face too much for her to handle. And then a thought occurred to her…
“Remember about a year ago your Momma bought that laptop?”
Gus nodded, confusion written all over his face.
“And you remember how she had problems with it so she boxed it all up and sent it back to get fixed?”
Once again he nodded.
“Well…you’re Momma and I keep the box out there in case there’s any problems with your bike.”
Offering a sad smile, Gus replied, “But I thought Santa’s elves were magic. That his toys didn’t break.”
Lindsay was quiet for a long moment before responding. “Not everything in life is guaranteed, kiddo,” she said, pausing to look away and clear her throat. “Now. What do you say you write up your new Christmas list? We need to send it off to Santa so he has enough time to get all the things you want.”
But Gus was a smart little boy; he put all the pieces together-the way the ‘From Santa’ tag was written in the same handwriting as his mother, the box that was hidden in the garage, and the way his mom wasn’t quite meeting his eyes. He also realized that she wanted to keep him clueless for a little while longer.
“Yeah, Mom,” he said, quietly. “I’ll write the letter and seal it up, and you can send it out for me tomorrow.”
Standing, he made his way over to his desk and made out the normal spiel before sealing it in an envelope and handing it over to Lindsay.
Gus watched from the landing of the stairs as his Mom pulled out a ballpoint pen, addressed the envelope, and slipped it into the stack of Christmas cards to go out.
As the day progressed, Gus kept eyeing the small entry table, mind fixated on the letter. His mother had taken the time to address the envelope and set it in the stack to bring to the post office. Why would she take the time to do it if there wasn’t somewhere to send it.
Had he been wrong?
If he were, would Santa put him on the "naughty list" for not believing?
And, if there wasn’t a Santa, how had he ended up getting exactly what he wanted all these years? His mom’s hadn’t seen last year’s list; he’d sealed it up before they even had a chance to look over it.
Unless they had opened it?
He went to bed that night and stared up at the ceiling, listening to his mothers move about the house. Gus' curiosity gnawed at him as the same questions circled in his head.
And so, he waited.
And waited.
And waited.
Until finally his mothers went to bed.
As quietly as he could, Gus snuck down the stairs. Inching one foot in front of the other, he felt along the wall, using his hands and arms to guide him until he felt it was safe enough to click on his flashlight.
Down the stairs he went, cringing as the third one from the bottom groaned a little.
Finally. Finally, he reached the small table near the door where the outgoing mail was stacked.
Tucking the flashlight beneath his chin, Gus began to shift through the Christmas cards-Ted, Emmett, Deb and Carl, Brian and Justin, and, just beneath that one, the slightly larger, Harry Potter stamped envelope he’d sealed hours before.
With shaking hands, he turned it over and saw who it was addressed to--Brian Kinney and Justin Taylor.
That was the moment Gus felt something move and shift inside himself as the events Christmases past crystallized in his mind.
The endless boxes delivered by UPS and FedEx after Thanksgiving.
How his entire list always seemed to be tucked beneath the tree
And how his dads always miraculously showed up when Gus had begged Santa for a visit.
Closing his eyes, Gus smiled slightly as he recalled that last year he’d asked Santa for his dads to fly up and see him…and to teach him how to ride a bike.
A bubble of laughter warmed its way through him as Gus realized that ‘Santa’ was none other than his fathers. The same ones who’d bought all those toys and appeared on Christmas. The same ones who let Gus think Santa did it, when, in fact, his dads had done it.
And they kept up the whole charade out of love.
As Gus tucked his letter back in the stack and crept back up the stairs, he realized he so should ask for more stuff next year…you know, before the parents realized that he knew that, yes, there was a Santa Claus, and his name was Dad.
A/N: Hugs and bunny slippers to shadownyc for the beta.