▸ @sncwfall ⟶ ❛ 𝐁𝐀𝐃 , 𝐁𝐀𝐃 , 𝑺𝑶 𝑺𝑶 𝑩𝑨𝑫 ! the naughty list wasn't good enough to place the mans name , santa br͟i͟e͟f͟l͟y considered making a 𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 just to truly start pulling apart the 𝒅𝒊𝒇𝒇𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒚𝒔 naughtiness manifests . HE ISN'T HERE AS SANTA , THOUGH . he's here as 𝒔𝒄𝒐𝒕𝒕 𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒗𝒊𝒏 - a man who 𝘀𝘁𝘂𝗺𝗯𝗹𝗲𝗱 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗵𝗮𝘁 , a man who above all else is a father himself . he cannot comprehend the loss of his own child , never mind in such a 𝑉𝐼𝑂𝐿𝐸𝑁𝑇 𝑊𝐴𝑌 . 𝑺𝑪𝑶𝑻𝑻 places down a small box - dinos of all types littering the wrapping paper in little hats ; inside lies a 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐆𝐎𝐒𝐀𝐔𝐑𝐔𝐒 𝐒𝐍𝐎𝐖𝐆𝐋𝐎𝐁𝐄 , a backdrop of forest &. the little dino looking up to the left . scott felt forced to place a note inside , he does not condone ; however , he cannot deny the violence of a grieving father , he will not pretend to not understand , he will not pretend to be a sane man should any harm happen to charlie . ' 𝒊'𝒎 𝒔𝒐𝒓𝒓𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒉𝒂𝒔 𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒚𝒐𝒖 , 𝒋𝒂𝒓𝒐𝒅 . may you find what you're looking for &. remember , you are worthy of happinesss &. healing - 𝓢 . ' ❜
What the everloving hell was this? Some kind of trick? Jarod had no one alive who would willingly give him Christmas presents. His first thought was that it was a Brigade seeking revenge for one of their fallen friends—they were fans of explosives.
Still, there was something about the dinosaurs on the wrapping that softened and disarmed him, and he stooped to remove it gingerly from his front step. He carried it to the kitchen table and sat staring at it for several long minutes in the lonely orange light, a staple of a happy home, which had long lost its warming effect on him. Then, he began picking at the corners of the wrapping a little at a time while his head screamed that it was a bomb and his heart whispered that it was something else.
Something good.
He peered into the box with a torrent of mixed feelings, and he caught a glint of glass. He removed the globe and held it in front of his face, his heart’s suspicions confirmed.
Something good.
He shook the globe around, then followed the flakes as they settled over the back and nose of the dinosaur inside.
Who the fuck would have sent this? He looked back in the box and rooted around in it until he secured what he was looking for, a note. You are worthy of happiness, signed ‘S.’ Jarod would have thought it was a mistake if the note wasn’t addressed to him by name.
S… it couldn’t be him, and it was stupid to think so. Jarod had stayed up late to play him for Lola, what felt like a lifetime ago now. All the same, the mere thought made him sit back in his chair and smile to himself.
He could think of the perfect spot for the globe, and he got up and walked to that room. It had not changed a bit from when she left it ten years ago, as if it was still waiting for her to come back. Jarod stepped to the tall, white bookshelf in the corner by the window and set the globe up against a withered paperback novel. It was the first new thing to be stationed in the room in a decade.
Jarod’s heart swelled, and his eyes brimmed with tears, cool and refreshing for once, not the hot, exhausting ones of wrath and grief. He touched his index fingertip against the snowglobe’s smooth surface. “We’re gonna have a good Christmas, Lola,” he said softly to the dinosaur inside of it. “This year—I swear it.”
