I Don't Know Why I'm Writing this But, In the Spirit of Christmas, I Am Going To Write A Lil Christmas Story. Yay? I'm Not really In the Uh, "Christmas spirit" This Year for Personal Reasons. So, Yeag? Ummm, This Is A Lil ONESHOT For The Holidays That Meh Friend Inspired. Ummm, Yeag. So Like I Know That This Is WAY Late But Blame Meh Retarded Computer -_-

Disclaimer: All Characters Are Meh Own & the Town is Meh Own As Well.

A Bittersweet Christmas


I swear to God if I hear another song about reindeer or chimneys, I am going to scream, Alex thought as she walked through the semi-empty streets of New Dawn. Everywhere she looked there was a damned Christmas tree or a fucking fake Santa giving kids candy. Christmastime was always a hard time for Alex, ever since her parents died. Since she was too young to live alone, she was forced away from her friends to live almost 300 miles away with an aunt and uncle who she'd never heard of in her whole life. And now, at 17, and about two years after the accident, she was a senior and almost out of this damned town.

"Hey, Al!" Stopping in her tracks, Alex turned towards the voice she knew only all too well: Roman Blake.

"What the fuck do you want, Blake?" Her voice held all the bitterness she couldn't hide and he looked affronted.

"I was just saying hi. Jeez, who the fuck pissed in your cereal this morning?" He retorted, his usual sneer on his face. Funny how, it only ever seemed to be aimed at her.

"Oh, why don't you just fucking blow me?" She shoved her way passed him, pulling out her cigarettes and a lighter. She quickly lit one up, her nerves crumbling.

"All right, I'm sorry," he says, catching up with her. "It's almost Christmas and I was just wondering if you-…"

"Stop right there," Alex threatened, stopping to glare at him hatefully. "I know what you're trying to fucking do and I can tell you right now that it is never going to work. I know you, Blake and I am not going to play these sick little fucking mind games with you. Get the fuck away from me and go bother some fucking freshman," Once again, she shoved by him, feeling his incredulous stare all the way down to her toes.

When she arrived at the hell she was forced to call home, she started to walk up the steps when she heard the yelling.

"Oh, fuck you!" Aunt Sheridan screamed.

"You know what? You can go to hell, you fat old bitch!" Uncle Jerry yelled back. Something crashed against the wall and Alex swallowed painfully before using the vines on the side of the house to climb up inside.

She listened to them scream and yell at each other, the tears she refused to shed in public streaming down her pale face. And like she did every day since the accident, she pulled up her sleeve and took out her razor, trying to find a way to dull the pain. And as the screams became louder and shriller, and the blood dripped down her arms, Alex looked up at the door painfully before crawling over to her bed and lying down.

"Only a few more months, only a few more months, only a few more months…" She repeated the words like a mantra until, late in the night, she fell asleep, her face tear-soaked.


"Dammit, Baylee! Can't you do anything right?" Lisa, her mother, yelled at her in a drunken stupor, throwing the glass plates on the floor. "I asked you to do one thing, one thing and you fuck it up! You know what? Get to your fucking room while I decide what the hell I'm going to do. Now!" She screamed when Baylee hadn't moved.

As quick as she could, Baylee scurried up the steps into her tiny room, making sure not to lock the door. She sat on her bed, hugging her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. A sob ripped its way through her throat and soon they were unstoppable. She reached under her mattress for the picture she always kept there and looked at it. The happy faces staring back at her broke her heart even further and she touched the face of the man who, 5 years ago, walked out of the front door downstairs and never returned.

Ever since, her mother drank everything away ad left Baylee to do everything. Now that Christmas was coming up, marking it the 5-year-anniversary of his leaving, the drinking was growing heavier. Baylee couldn't remember the last time her mother was sober.

"Mommy?" Baylee looked up at Damien.

"Come here, sweetheart," she whispered and opened her arms, feeling the throb in her chest painfully. She watched as her son, who had just turned three, ran over to her. Hugging him tightly to her, she kissed his forehead and tried to keep the tears at bay.

"I wuv you, Mommy," Damien said and Baylee could only nod.

"I love you too, baby." She had tried so hard to give Damien a good life, even if he was the product of her being raped three years ago.

It was one of the few times that she had gone into the city. She had been walking down the street when he had grabbed her. She could still feel the cold metal of his blade against her neck, of his sickly hot breath against her flesh, of the dead look in his blue eyes, and the feel of him as he tore her in two. But, she could never regret Damien, not in a million years.

Tucking her son in closer to her, she let a few solitary tears slide down her face. She stroked his hair softly, listening to his breathing even out as her memories threatened to consume her. At 16, she was a single mom, living with her drunken mother, forced to work at the only place that would take her in order to make money for her son: a strip club. Furry Poison was an underground club and only certain people knew about it. So, in order to feed her son, Baylee put on her fishnets and platforms each night and danced.

She walked on stage that night and saw a few of her teachers in the audience. Swallowing back her anxiety, her stage name was called, along with her theme song and Baylee transformed into Buttercup. She twirled, she crawled, she teased, she caressed and the whole while…She held back tears. When her shift ended, she morphed back into Baylee again and walked home, her heels clacking against the shoveled sidewalk.

She slipped on a patch of ice when turning a corner.

"Motherfucker!" She bit out, seeing that she would have to buy some new fishnets again.

"Are you all right?" She looked up into the eyes of a man who couldn't possibly be more than four or five years older than she.

"Yeah, I'm just fucking fine," she replied, trying to stand up. He helped the rest of the way.

"My name's Rob," he introduced.

"Baylee," she murmured, trying not to notice how unbelievably cute he is.

"So, uh, you're a dancer?" He asked, looking at her outfit.

"No shit," she snapped.

"I saw your performance. You are a beautiful dancer, but I can tell that you do not do this because you enjoy it. Here's my card," he says, handing one to her. "Call me if you ever need anything." And with that, she watched as he turned towards a car and got in it, driving away.

"Hah, right," she mumbled, but kept the card anyways. What the fuck was that, Baylee? She sighed, tightening her thin coat around her waist against the chill.

When she returned to the house, she was welcomed with a slap to the face and a yelling that was normal to her. And after it, she walked upstairs and crawled into bed next to her son, missing the father that walked out on her years ago.

"Fuck Christmas."


"Jesus, do you have to put every fucking ornament on the damned tree?" Roman Blake glared at his estranged mother as she tried to squeeze even more shiny balls onto the already overdone tree.

"Roman, don't speak to your mother that way," his father mumbled, too lost in his Playboy to even care.

"Whatever, I don't need this," he snapped, getting up from the couch he sat on to don his coat and hat before storming out of the house. He walked down the street into town, remembering when he and Gabriel had snuck out of the house whenever they could. Thinking of Gabriel saddened Roman and he pulled out his cell phone and dialed Roxy's number almost desperately.


"Roxy, baby. I wanna see you. Meet me in our usual spot?"

"Of course. I'll be right there."

He hung up the phone and continued walking to the "spot" he spoke of on the phone. It was where he brought all of his hookups to fuck senselessly. They were nothing but a casual lay for him and they understood that, wanting nothing more from him besides a mind-blowing experience. He waited patiently for Roxy to arrive and when she did, they both wasted no time in undressing each other and fucking into Oblivion.

Afterwards, he watched her get dressed whilst he smoked a joint, his bitterness no better than before. She leaned down and gave him a kiss before wrapping her scarf around herself and leaving. He watched her go without feeling, waiting a few minutes before getting dressed himself. When he was successfully clothed again, he walked down the street again, deciding to go see Gabriel.

He walked through the old cemetery slowly. A blanket of snow covered most of the area, but some kind souls have cleared away the tombstones. Not like you don't have the route there memorized already, he scoffed. He could find his way to Gabriel blindfolded. When he got to the old tombstone, he brushed away the new snowflakes that had fallen onto it, caressing it with sadness. Tears threatened to pool in his eyes as he gazed at his brother's grave.

"I am at a loss, brother," Roman had to swallow a lump in his throat. "Each day I come to visit you, but it still has not sunk in that I will never see you again. My heart hurts over your passing, brother, but I have something to share with you. A secret that no one has ever heard, not even my own conscious mind," he added bitterly. "There is this girl, and she has this…This thing about her that draws me in. Fucked if I know what it is, she is just a Plain Jane and a loner. But, brother, I want more than just her body and it scares the hell out of me. I wish you were here so that you could give me your guidance. I love you brother," as his eyes closed against a breeze, a single tear fell onto the black stone.

Quickly, he composed himself and rose, taking a few deep breaths before turning away and walking back into town. He was walking across the crosswalk when he saw her: Alex Barnes. His heart stuttered in his cold chest as he watched her walking slowly through the snowy streets of New Dawn. This is your chance! He triumphed internally whilst jogging over to her.

"Hey, Al!" He called out, watching her stiffen and stop in her tracks, looking up at him hatefully.

"What the fuck do you want, Blake?" He balked at her hostility.

"I was just saying hi. Jeez, who the fuck pissed in your cereal this morning?" His anger at not being able to have her forced a sneer onto his handsome face. How ironic it was that he could only ever keep it there whenever he was with her…

"Oh, why don't you just fucking blow me?" He gazed at her as she shoved her way passed him, pulling out her cigarettes and a lighter. He looked as her pale fingers lit one up, a slight tremor in them.

"All right, I'm sorry," he says, catching up with her. "It's almost Christmas and I was just wondering if you-…"

"Stop right there," Alex threatened, stopping to glare at him hatefully. "I know what you're trying to fucking do and I can tell you right now that it is never going to work. I know you, Blake and I am not going to play these sick little fucking mind games with you. Get the fuck away from me and go bother some fucking freshman," Once again, she shoved by him, and all he could do was stare at her incredulously, a pang shooting through him.

Later that night, after drinking away the rejection Alex gave him, he headed home. What welcomed him was the screaming voice of his father. Never before had Roman longed to be in Gabriel's place more…


Christmas. It was supposed to be a time for giving and sharing, and being happy. Rob snorted as his hands clenched tightly on the steering wheel. His gaze flickers to the locket that swung from the rearview mirror, a gift from Isobel.

"Oh, Isobel…" Despite his efforts, Rob Sterling's voice cracked with emotion. Clenching his jaw, Rob turned the car off and got out of the truck, heading into Furry Poison. He sat in his usual seat, wondering why the hell he was even there. And then he saw her: Buttercup. The song caught his ear, and then her gorgeous body and face caught his eyes. He knew the song faintly by Avril…Something. Probably some fucking whore. He smirked faintly as he watched the girl who he knew could be no older than 17. So beautiful…

He watched her for the rest of the night, but kept his distance. He left after a little while, deciding to head home after a long day at the office. Rob Sterling's Law Firm was one of the more notorious firms in the U.S. but he made sure he got the job done. At 21, he had racked up an impressive record and he had women throwing themselves at him and he tried to refuse. But sometimes his urges got the better of him…

He was about to unlock his car when he heard her.

"Motherfucker!" She hissed angrily. He turned around and saw her on the ground.

"Are you all right?" He jogged over to her and she met his eyes. Yeah, definitely no older than 17.

"Yeah, I'm just fucking fine," she replied, trying to stand up. He helped the rest of the way.

"My name's Rob," he introduced, trying to hide his attraction to her.

"Baylee," she murmured, looking uncomfortable.

"So, uh, you're a dancer?" He asked, looking at her outfit. Holy fuck, he thought.

"No shit," she snapped. Ooh and she's got fire in her…

"I saw your performance. You are a beautiful dancer, but I can tell that you do not do this because you enjoy it. Here's my card," he says, handing one to her. "Call me if you ever need anything." Was that a double meaning in his words? He gave her a nod before turning to walk away.

When he got in his car, he couldn't help but feel jittery.

"For fucks sakes! Get the fuck over yourself, Rob. She's just a girl!" Gritting his teeth, he started the car up and drove away, forcing himself not to look back. He passed by a liquor store and makes a rash decision to turn around. And for the first time in three years, since Isobel and Natasha had passed on, Rob Sterling bought alcohol to numb away his pain.


When Alex woke up, sometime around 1:42 am, the house was silent. Finally… She grimaced as her new cuts tore a little with the movement of her sitting up. Alex stood up slowly, tiptoeing her way to the door where she pressed her ear to the cool wood, listening. Complete silence could be heard, along with the faint sounds of Aunt Sheridan and Uncle Jerry's snores.

Sighing with relief, Alex went into her closet and grabbed dark wash jeans that hugged her body and a dark red T-shirt, throwing them on with her coat. She bandaged up her wrists before opening her window and climbing down the side of the house, sneaking off the property.

She made her way to what everyone called Hookup Haven Lane. It was also where she scored her drugs when the pain was too much to bare. Cutting across the bridge, she saw a few small fires blazing ahead. Belatedly, she wondered if she would see Roman. Stop right there! Get the fuck over yourself! All he wants is your ass. He's a player; always has been, always will be.

"There she is," someone calls out to her and she looks up. A smirk fills her face when she sees Damen Turk, one of the hottest guys at her school. He's also her occasional make-out session and shoulder to cry on. But above all, he was her best friend. Just then, Hungry Eyes started blaring through the speakers and Alex let out a whoop of joy. She pulled Damen to her and they started dancing the way they had practiced ever since watching "Dirty Dancing."

They danced and Damen stripped her of her coat, which she could have cared less about. A small crowd gathered around them and the music was turned up. He twirled her and lifted her and they gyrated against each other sensually enough that a few catcalls were heard. Damen lifts her up, spinning around in a circle. When she is back on her two feet, she kisses him on the lips soundly as the song comes to its climax. He spins her twice more before he bends her backwards, the song ending.

Cheers are heard and Alex laughs half-heartedly, her heart pounding with excitement. A slow song comes on next and Damen wraps his arms around her waist, pulling her closer to him. She rested her head on his shoulder for the longest time that calmness spread through her. After some time, she lifted her head and he caught her lips in a smoldering kiss, unbeknownst to the glare of the boy who was sitting only 15 feet away.


He watched as Damen kissed Alex, a gnawing feeling eating away at his flesh. Unable to stand it anymore, Roman sauntered over to Damen and Alex and pulled him away from her, doing the unthinkable: punching him in the face. Alex gasped as blood spurted out of Damen's nose and he landed on the ground with a hard thud.

"What the fuck was that for, Blake?" She demanded and glared at him.

"I need to talk to you. Now," he said when she hadn't moved. He saw something flicker in her eyes before she nodded, giving Damen a last look.

Roman led Alex away from the fires and people, to a little secluded area with a ledge view of the town. A small fire pit was set up and he lit it, trying to ignore the feeling of her eyes on him.

"Well?" She demanded finally, forcing him to look up. "What the fuck do you want? I don't have time for your fucking games, Roman. Now tell me what you want so I can go back and make sure Damen is okay."

"My brother, Gabriel, was killed almost two years ago." The silence that followed his statement was so tangible, he had to look up to make sure she was still there.

"I-I'm sorry," she said at last, coming over to kneel next to him. "My family was killed in an accident almost two years ago as well. Not a day goes by that I don't hate them for leaving me alone in this world."

"You have your aunt and uncle," he inquired, confusion laced in his voice. Alex laughed hollowly.

"They scream at each other every night until they are both hoarse, and can't even stand the sight of me. I hide in my room for the better part of the night, until they fall asleep so I can sneak out and come here," she replied, motioning to the party. He nodded, understanding.

As the night wore on, the couple talked. It was almost 5:00 am when Alex made to get up.

"Don't go…Not yet," Roman begged and she sighed, lying down once more. He stroked her face and a shock went through her.

"Can I kiss you?" He whispered and she nods, helpless under his gaze. And as Roman pressed his cooled lips against Alex's, a jolt of electricity washed over him.

Maybe Christmas was looking up after all.


When Baylee woke up the next morning, the bed was empty.

"Damien?" She called out anxiously, but there was no answer. With a sense of dread filling her, Baylee got up and walked downstairs quietly. "Damien?" She tried again, but there was still no answer.

She walked into the kitchen where she saw a pool of blood. Gasping, she crept around the corner, fearing the worst.

"No!" She screeched as she slid down the wall, tears filling in her eyes. She gazed at her son's limp and bloody body as it looked back at her. His eyes held no life in them, the light drained out. She sobbed harshly as the one thing that was holding her here had vanished.

"I had to do it," her mother's voice said to her right. Baylee looked up at her mother who was bloody. "He wouldn't stop crying, so I had to make it stop. He was a bastard child."

"He was my son!" Baylee screamed at her mother. "And you are nothing more than a cold, heartless bitch! I hate you!" Her mother stood there silently as Baylee ran up to her room, pulling out the card Rob gave her and grabbing the cell phone she had.

It rang twice before he answered.

"Hello?" He asks.

"R-Rob?" Baylee hiccups, more tears flowing.

"Baylee?" He retorts.


"Are you all right?"


"What is wrong?" His voice betrayed his concern and she gave a sad half-smile.

"My mother murdered my 3-year-old son."

"What's your address?" He demands, his voice like ice. She gave it to him numbly, hanging up the phone and throwing it against the wall.

Baylee Rodriguez lay down on her ratty bed and curled into a ball, her heart breaking in three.

"Damien," she sobbed.

A little while later, there was a knock at the door. Baylee shot up and ran downstairs, throwing open the door. There he stood, clad in faded jeans and a black T-shirt. Tears filled her eyes and her lower lip trembled.

"Come here, angel," he whispered and she went, wrapping her arms around him and burying her face in the crook of his neck. He hugged her tightly to him, rocking her back and forth. "You're coming home with me," he said and she nodded.

"Where the fuck do you think you're going, you little whore?" Baylee flinched at her mother's harsh voice and she met the cold eyes of the woman who was supposed to love her.

"Away from you," she responded. Without a word, Rob pulled Baylee into his truck and drove away.

Later that night, they pulled up at his home and he led her into his bedroom where he hugged her and caressed her and gave her the affection she needed. For once, Rob didn't cry alone in his room. Baylee gave herself to him, trusting him and loving him enough to not hurt her. And in return, he gave her the most climatic experience of her life.

And as each couple went to sleep later that day, none of them could remember the last time that they had felt as whole as they did lying next to the woman or man of their dreams. They did not know what lay in store for them but at the moment…Nothing else mattered. And so a bittersweet Christmas it was.

Thanks for Reading & Merry Christmas or Happy Hanukah XD ..