Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It got dark so early in winter, even in California and the old mansion got quiet. Terry sat at his desk with a cup of mulled wine, feeling the cold of the season seeping in the big empty hallways, listening to wind that howled through the rooms. 

His staff was on vacation for the holidays and he was bored of stakeholder meetings and boards of directors, of all the humdrum of his father’s business. 

He wasn’t sure what was left for him. What there was to even do. He hated Dynatox. He hated that somewhere along the way he’d been forced into a job he didn’t want. He stared, watching the steam roll off his drink debating if it was worth getting up and turning on a light beyond the candle he’d lit which was flickering, or if he should bother with the fireplace. 

It didn’t get particularly cold enough in LA for the fireplace but it was uncharacteristically cold that year that everyone was abuzz wondering if it might get cold enough to have a white Christmas. Or if they should dig out holiday sweaters and coats. 

The clock chimed. And then the cuckoo clock. And then a cacophony of mechanical creations alerted that it was midnight and he looked at them all, the little intricate gears and knobs allowing them to move, letting them play their parts, coming to life just for a moment to alert him the hour. His father told him it was childish to keep it all but with everything else Terry gave up he refused to budge on this. Refused to part with the scraps of a life that felt like life times ago. 

His eyes fell on one holiday one, a toy solider that marched out and drummed it’s drum, the sound coming from the dull thud of the material and a little music box that was inside. 

His father wasn't around, wouldn't be around until after the holidays and it was tradition at this point to make something. To do something.

He decided in an instant. 

No one was there to even notice. So he sprang up from his chair, crossing to the closet and pushing aside an internal bookshelf that hid a safe that he opened up. 

It didn’t contain important documents or money or jewelry but what was in it meant more to him than gold. The safe was deep in the wall and he pulled out papers and tools, starting the fire in the fireplace until it was roaring and then dragging the old workbench from the corner of his office over, getting out paper and ink pens and sketching away his designs while the fire got hot enough to bring them to life. 

He carved wood, metal, melted things down and molded little faces until he’d finished everything he needed, long into the night, before falling asleep, before the small castle and stage he’d made on his work bench, the fire dying to embers and his hands and back aching in a sweet way he hadn’t felt since he was younger, in what felt like a life time ago, before Dynatox was his responsibility, before the war, back when he had a chance to be himself and not who others demanded he be. 

It was the person who at least for a few moments, for one night of the year, he could still be. For his godson. Though he hadn't gotten his godson in the traditional way one gets godsons, but in a happenstance way that Terry loved. His godson was a delight, one that enjoyed listening to every tale Terry told, who got frightened easily, or at least used to, and Terry took great pleasure in giving him a fright, but also in the pure joy when Terry made one of his gifts for the boy. He was growing up, becoming a man, a teenager in high school at this point and Terry wondered how much longer he’d enjoy the things Terry made. If he’d still get scared if Terry told too scary of a story. 

Eventually he’d out grow it, he might already have. He’d been such a small thing for so long, all skin and bone and knobbly limbs. But now he was tall and strong, and this Christmas he’d pull out all the stops because most likely it’d be the last chance he’d get. The last chance to bring delight to his godson before he outgrew it and the magic died, before Terry found himself also without it once more. 

It’d be ready by Christmas Eve, for the party. He glanced at the toy soldier which had returned to his guard, returned on it's track right back to where it had been, playing the same part over and over again for as long as someone wound the parts and took care of it and he turned back to his creations with new fervor. It'd be the best thing he'd created yet. It had to be.

Chapter Text

The holiday parties that Sid threw were always long and boring and awful to Johnny.

The first one had felt like magic. He’d never seen Christmas trees so big before inside of a home or so perfectly decorated. They were also real trees. His mother and he had never had a real tree, just a plastic one his mother had gotten at discount that lived in the back of a closet until the holidays and with popcorn they strung up as decoration. Half the lights had gone out and they couldn’t get new ones, but Johnny had loved that tree despite its faults, despite the emptiness beneath it every year. 

His Christmas presents were generally small things his mother had scrounged up for, the best were G.I. Joes she’d found on sale that were maybe a decade out of style. She’d wrapped them up in newspaper because wrapping paper itself was too expensive for something that’d just get ripped up and she usually could get newspaper for free...somewhere.

Mostly he got clothes. 

But Sid’s tree was massive, and underneath it was a ridiculous amount of presents in shiny paper, ribbons and bows. Each corner and crease absolutely perfect. The ornaments were glass that sparkled beneath twinkling lights and tinsel hung with precise care. 

When it’d just been him and his mom they made a habit out of decorating the tree. Of digging through their baubles to figure out what they could stick on it. Sometimes there was artwork from school, old decorations he’d handmade that went up, sometimes wherever she worked would give her something precious to hang up made out of ceramic or glass. And they’d pop popcorn and drink shirley temples while they decorated, while they strung up popcorn. But with Sid’s tree it was all done to the newest fashion by someone on Sid’s payroll. Just like the house itself. Sometime after Thanksgiving the holiday decor went up. Johnny would wake up to the smell of pine and fir. Wreaths hung on the doors with satin ribbons, lights covered every trim and the roof. And the tree would already be magically up with presents already piled under it. 

There was something shocking about seeing so many that at first Johnny thought they were fake, the way stores filled the space under trees with empty boxes just for looks. But then he realized they had tags. Tags for Sid, for his mother, for people on his staff and excitement brewed so Johnny, when no one was around, would try to carefully look to see if there were any for him. 

A few. 

Mostly from his mother, wrapped in shiny paper and ribbons and bows in such a neat and orderly way that felt alien compared to her charming messy newspaper wrapping. 

He got bigger things beyond clothes and shoes. Though he still got those mostly from Sid. Things fashionable and that fit what Sid thought he should look and dress like. And for the Christmas Eve party it was always worse. His clothes were laid out for him when he got out of the shower to the point he felt like a doll donning suits and shiny black shoes. He was a doll that knew his role. Especially now, after all the years. 

First was the waiting. He wasn’t allowed to go anywhere else. He’d tried after the year he got a bike, after he joined Cobra Kai to see if he could bike to Bobby’s while he waited for the party to actually start. A quick bike over, he’d be back in time, but it was met with a harsh no from Sid. 

So he sat, and waited, sitting in a corner doing practically nothing until he was needed. Sometimes he felt like he was just gathering dust in a corner like holiday decoration not yet ready to be put out, while the staff worked, while food was cooked and baked, while cakes were made and cookies were piled high and punch was filled into crystal punch bowls. Punch he wasn’t allowed to drink because like the eggnog it was spiked and Sid kept an extra close eye on it, on him, like he was daring him to just try it. 

After hours of sitting quietly in his suit and shiny shoes the guests would arrive. People Sid was related to but whom he made it very clear Johnny was not. Which didn’t bother Johnny, he didn’t particularly like any of them anyway. The boys had trapped him in a closet their first Christmas together, a closet far away from the festivities that no one found him for hours, until he felt like his throat was raw from shouting, and he was exhausted from crying and his hands had felt bruised from banging on the door, on trying to get out. The girls he had to dance with and they always made a point to step on his feet and hold their head up high, pointing out all the things they thought was wrong with him in a tone that was laced in ‘just trying to be of help’ but beneath which was nothing but barbs. 

The adults would stand around drinking and the kids would play, then dinner would happen, a long several course meal where Johnny was stuck at the kids table where if he didn’t pay attention the food on his plate would get swiped or messed with. One year Sid demanded to know why he hadn’t finished his ham and lectured him for nearly 2 hours and refused to listen to the reason, which was that Sid’s darling nieces and nephews had dumped an entire shaker worth of salt on it, while one had distracted him by pretending to be interested in actual conversation. He’d hoped that they’d grown up and actually become cool but it’d all been a trick. 

After the dancing, presents would be passed out. Not all of them of course, Sid always saved many for Johnny’s mother, to open on Christmas Day, but the majority was passed out to friends and family who’d gathered. Toys for the kids and nice things for the adults and Johnny would receive trinkets from the adults. Trinkets that meant nothing. A whistle from some cousin of Sid’s. An ugly sweater from some great aunt that itched and was bought, not made. Some socks, some soap, some circus peanuts which he hated, yo-yos or bouncy balls, sometimes marbles. All of which seemed to be hand me downs from the kids who got new shiny things.

But then as the night grew late the clocks would chime the hour and at the same time would be a knock. An impressive knock that seemed to echo the halls despite the cacophony from the clocks and the staff would open the doors and a tall figure would walk in wearing a winters cloak and a big hat, which he would remove as he strode towards the hall they were in. He wore the latest fashion, the shiniest shoes and he carried a bag over one shoulder with ease, like a cool young Santa Claus. The children would swarm him and he’d grin, digging into his bag and tossing out toys to the kids. 

Johnny stood back. He learned long ago that there was no point in him joining the fray. The nieces and nephews and cousins were like sharks and until their feeding frenzy was over there wasn’t a chance. Even though now he was sure he could kick their asses, the trouble he would get into wouldn’t make it worth it. But eventually it would calm and the kids would wander off with their toys to play and he’d walk over to Johnny dropping a heavy hand onto his shoulder and lean down with a big grin. 

“How’s my godson this year?” He’d ask every year and Johnny would feel a sense of warmth, a bit of comfort from the man who’d dig out of his bag a gift. Usually something handmade, hand carved, hand painted. 

To Johnny they were always magic. His godfather brought them to life. This year though the bag looked rather deflated and he wonder with a resignation if he’d finally outgrown the gifts. If soon his godfather would find someone new to share his creations with. 

But an arm wrapped around his shoulders and the man motioned towards someone else and a box was rolled in and Johnny’s godfather opened the box up with a flourish pulling out a castle that he picked up and set on the table. It was huge, it was beautiful, it was intricate and highly detailed to little stained glass windows and people moving about within when his godfather wound it up with a key. 

Yet…it didn’t excite Johnny like all the other gifts he’d gotten.

It was, in essence…

“You made the boy a doll house Silver?” Sid asked with a laugh. “Just what he needs, to be playing with dolls. Do you know how long it took me to get him to leave those ratty G.I. Joes alone? And those are better than—” Sid leaned down squinting into the windows of the castle. “Ballerinas.”

Johnny heard laughter erupt from the people gathered. He felt his skin burn. Heard Sid say more, heard his mother admonish him for his language, feeling sick to his stomach. 

“It’s not a doll house, it’s all mechanical,” his godfather said.

“Still a dollhouse Silver.”

Johnny felt his godfather pull away, arguing with Sid and Johnny tried to bury the embarrassment, tried to think of something to say, knowing that the thank you he had to say was going to come out wrong, and his godfather would know it. That he'd disappoint the one person who was nice to him at these parties and he couldn't stand the idea, the look on his face when that happened. He stepped back, bumping into the tree and he heard something rustle and fall. 

He turned and sitting in the tree was something with two brown eyes. Johnny reached in pulling out the wooden thing studying it in surprise. 

Maybe his godfather had made it. It was wood, hand painted, dressed in military finery, with dark brown almost black hair and a big smile. 

“Johnny,” his godfather said, attention returning to him. “Here take the key, don’t listen to what your stepfather says okay? It’s magical and I’ll tell you a story about it and— oh what do you have there?”

His godfather took the soldier from his hands studying it in the light, one way then another. “A nutcracker,” his godfather pronounced, digging around in his pockets of his fancy cloak for something before procuring nuts, tipping the soldier on it’s back, popping a nut in and pulling a lever on the back of the soldier. With a crack the hard shell of the nut fractured and crumbled and his godfather flipped the nutcracker soldier over dumping the freed nut into his palm and handing a piece to Johnny. 

Johnny took the nut and popped it in his mouth before taking the nutcracker from Silver and holding it carefully, studying its uniform, the big brown eyes, the olive complexion and all the little details. 

He could feel his godfathers eyes on him before he felt a hand on his shoulder, a squeeze and then his godfather stepped away, called by his mother to discuss something and for a moment Johnny was alone and felt at peace with that warm mischievous looking smile painted onto the nutcrackers face.

Chapter Text

Terry watched his godson light up over the dumb little nutcracker and felt a twist of jealousy. He’d spent forever on an intricate castle, a palace, and Sid had dismissed it almost instantly and the boy had picked up some cheap tool instead. 

Sid was not Terry’s favorite person. Most of the people at the party weren’t. But they were either family friends and he had the Silver name to uphold or useful business and society acquaintances. Sid reminded Terry of his own father so Terry always made it a goal that whenever he was around he’d try to act as a buffer, to help defend his godson from some of the barbs, but Terry was still fuming over the language Sid had used, as if he’d forgotten that for at least a couple years Sid had insisted, to gain the favor of an industry leader, to enroll Johnny in ballet. Johnny had been small at the time and the ballet troupe had been short on boys. Johnny had done well at it, actually enjoyed it until Sid had decided Johnny was having too much fun and pulled the poor kid out of it because boys shouldn’t be out there wearing tights and dancing on stage or whatever other nonsense he’d said. 

Terry had been to every opening night no matter how small the part along with Johnny’s mother and Sid hadn’t even seen the boy perform. 

Nutcrackers were…well…Terry looked at his castle he’d built, the ballerinas dancing, the mouse king, the soldiers and the prince. He’d had the same idea he supposed, and who was he to deny someone else the enjoyment of a man in uniform? 

How tongue tied had he gotten the first time he’d put one on and saw the other men around him with their military dress and shined shoes? And his captain?

He’d been the best looking out of the group. Filled out the uniform in a way that made him sweat in ways he never had before. 

But a nutcracker wasn’t like a plush animal or an action figure, it wasn’t cute or particularly handsome. It was big headed and all it did was break shells. 

Maybe Johnny was fond of it because of ballet. Because he’d never gotten the chance to be a part of a Christmas tradition because he was always forced to be at these dull parties, a dutiful little soldier jumping to all his step father’s commands. A boring vile man not worth the effort. Terry had already decided that once Johnny turned 18 and was free of the man he’d send him wherever he wanted. Backpacking through europe? Terry would book the flights, hotels, trains and buy all the gear. Hell if the kid decided to go to college he’d also foot the bill, why not? Better than Johnny feeling indebted to Weinberg of all people. Plus Terry didn’t care what he studied just so long as it was something he wanted. 

But again…a nutcracker? Come on. There were plenty of really handsome toy soldiers he’d personally made. Sure…quite a few of them looked like his captain, but still. He wanted his godson to have some better taste. Just a little…just— damn it. 

He’d been admiring one of the toy soldiers with blonde hair and rugged features he’d made when he heard running, shouting and a crack of wood and saw all the emotions filter through Johnny’s face. Shock, horror, anger, anguish as he scooped up the broken Nutcracker that some pompous pipsqueak had snatched from him and broken. He watched Laura rush over, hand coming to Johnny’s shoulder, turning to the other child, that anger riling up. 

“What are you doing?” She asked. 

“It’s just a dumb doll.”

“It’s a nutcracker,” Johnny said softly, anger simmering but also dipping down to despair. 

Terry sighed, he wasn’t fond of the nutcracker not when he could make something so much better but he hated the kids getting away with shit like that all the time. Laura was sweet but she didn’t have a lot of power, especially since Sid had noticed the hubbub and was making his way over. 

Terry couldn’t stand to see Johnny carefully putting his mask back on for the perfect obedient child, covering up the hurt and the disappointment. Terry took the nutcracker while Laura caught the kid and marched them over to Sid and the kid’s parents. 

Terry searched his pockets for something, for a handkerchief or pocket square that he would mind parting with before reaching back and scratching at his head looking at the nutcracker. 

He did have to admit, someone had put a lot of care into the thing. It looked like a little smart ass trickster. The arm had broken off, those damn things were easy to break if one was too rough with them. They weren’t toys after all, just tools for a job. He could wrap it up now and then come back to fix it later, he just needed something.

“What do you need?” Johnny asked. 

Terry looked at him, the concern, the concentration, the grim hope, set in belief that nothing would go his way ever. It was like looking in a damn mirror, a shorter blonde mirror…sure. Maybe if he and his captain had a kid…no, focus. 

“Something to wrap it for a moment,” Terry said. "Like a sling."

Johnny looked at him for a moment before digging around in his pockets and then pulling out a strip of black cloth. A hatchimaki. 

“Will this work?”

“You just carry that around?” Terry asked amused. 

Johnny turned a little pink. “A girl I went on a date with a while back gave it to me for Christmas.”

“You still dating her?”

“She said no the last time I asked so I don’t think so,” Johnny said. 

The poor kid. 

“But it’s useful, it’s not weird I kept it right?” Johnny asked quickly.

“No no it’s perfect, hold it carefully and I’ll put the arm in a sling,” Terry said. 

Johnny took the nutcracker and held it as Terry slid the arm back into it’s slot, it’d need some wood glue which he might have some in the car, and then tied together the rest of it in Johnny’s hatchimaki. It made a good start and Johnny looked so relieved that Terry couldn’t help himself, ruffling Johnny’s hair and kissing the top of his head. The kid was too easy to please. Build him a palace and he just wanted to play with some yule tide guy in uniform. Though who was Terry to blame him?

Chapter Text

When the party was over Johnny sat in the living room next to the big tree for a while. Sometimes he preferred it over going to bed, usually there was some toy from his godfather he wanted to play with and even though he was a teenager and the toy this year was a mechanical doll house, he didn’t want to leave the nutcracker alone in the big place by himself. 

Sure it was a nutcracker made of wood, but he remembered his first night at the Weinberg mansion and how overwhelming it’d been for him, how exhausting. 

So he slept on the couch in his suit and black shoes curled up on his side with the nutcracker next to him. He thought he’d stay awake just watching the twinkling lights of the massive tree but eventually he fell asleep. 

When he awoke the clock was chiming midnight and a blanket was wrapped around him and the nutcracker was gone from his arms.

He pushed himself up, dazed and a little confused, bleary eyed and rubbing at his eyes as he looked about to see if he’d accidentally dropped it off the couch. But when he peered over the couch he noticed that the nutcracker stood at attention below the couch.

He’d moved.

Johnny swore he’d been standing in the traditional pose, but now in the moonlight his sword glinted and he stood more loosely like he was on guard, waiting for something in the darkness. 

Johnny nearly reached for him when he noticed an odd sound. A scratching sound of claws on wood and he peered into the darkness trying to find the source of the sound before he noticed furry bodies moving quickly through the room. 

Mice? Rats? 

No way. 

Sid would have an aneurysm. 

But sure enough he saw one bound for the couch and watched the nutcracker move, slicing down the first with his sharp blade before it could reach the couch. 

There was a sound coming from the palace his godfather had made and the door was held open by a ballerina as soldiers climbed out of the palace to join in the fight. 

Johnny slowly lowered himself back onto the couch as he watched a ballerina kick a rat in the face. 

He was dreaming. 

He was still sleeping. 

He was going to close his eyes and when he opened them again none of this would be happening. 

He rested his head on the cushion and squeezed his eyes shut. 

“Dearest demoiselle now is not the time to sleep. You must remain on guard to get out of the way. You’re the only one with flesh that can bleed.”

Johnny opened his eyes and caught the nutcracker looking up at him, his proportions were different, no longer was he mostly his head but he looked…normal. Young, but normal…and very tiny. 

Yet, he was fighting and fiercely fighting. He was throwing punches, kicks, slicing with his sword, holding his own until the rats parted to allow through another rat. A bigger rat wearing clothes and a crown. 

“Rat king,” the nutcracker hissed. 

“Nutcracker,” The rat hissed back. 

They fought, a vicious battle, blood and wood chipping and scratched until the rat king had the nutcracker disarmed and Johnny acted, he took off one off his shoes and threw it, nailing the rat king in the head and watching it fall over. The king lay dazed and pointed at Johnny muttering something and Johnny got up to try and retrieve his shoe, to help the nutcracker when he felt dizzy, the lights of the Christmas tree were too bright, too strong and then suddenly the tree, that massive tree was bigger than it had been and it felt like Johnny was on a roller coaster, as the earth dropped out from under him, as he stood and swayed for a moment until the nutcracker caught him as he started to sway too far, feeling faint. 

“We should escape while he’s dazed,” the nutcracker said, arms pulling on Johnny towards a crack in the wall, taking his hand and running.

Johnny stumbled, his shoes feeling wrong, kicking the one that was left off and following the nutcracker in bare feet through the crack in the wall he’d never noticed before and away from the rat king surrounded by his rat soldiers, cursing after the nutcracker. 

Chapter Text

Terry wandered through the darkened mansion. The kids had long left, along with their families and he’d stayed long past he should’ve, returning after he’d retrieved his wood glue from the car. Now he just had to find the little bastard and put him back together and then…

He didn’t know what then. 

He’d make Johnny’s night better? Or his morning, give some Christmas magic as if Santa Claus came and fixed the nutcracker while he slept?

That’d be worth it enough. 

Maybe he should’ve gotten Johnny a car instead. Or something else. Something other than a toy palace. What had he been thinking, Johnny was too old for such things.

Though the way he held that nutcracker, even in the annual photo made Terry wonder.

He looked in Johnny’s room but found no sleeping teen, his bed was still made. No nutcracker. So he kept looking until, tired he ended up back in the room with the Christmas tree. No teen. 

He sighed flopping on the couch, stretching out his long legs and pinching the bridge of his nose. 

He just wanted to do one good deed, fix up the little nutcracker and then go home. Maybe if he was feeling brave, he’d down a couple glasses of fancy liquor and dare himself to call the captain. Maybe this year he’d actually say something rather than just panicking at the first sound of his voice in that sleep gruff ‘hello?’. Maybe he’d say something smart or witty or charming. Maybe he'd actually invite him out rather than panic that it'd been too many years since they'd last seen each other, that they'd changed too much, that his captain wouldn't even want to see him, or might see straight through him and his ulterior motives and not want it. That it'd destroy what little remnants of their relationship was left.

He heard a squeak and then the sound of gears and looked across the room with a frown. A soldier, one of his soldiers stood holding a sharp sword that looked black, looked wet. The soldier was fighting something. 

What the hell had Weinberg put in that damn punch of his? The man always picked the worst alcohol for his punch's, trying to follow fads, he was pretty sure there'd been jello mixed in this year. What was wrong with a traditional good rum punch?

Terry got up carefully before kneeling down next to the soldier, taking in the toys laying out across the floor, not just toys, his creations from the palace. 

But they shouldn’t have been out. Johnny wasn’t that type of kid. Sure he made a mess sometimes but Weinberg scared the hell out of him into cleaning up after himself. Let alone it would’ve been hard to have removed them from their tracks. 

“What on earth happened?”

The soldier turned, giving an about face to face Terry, shoulders back and giving him a salute. 

“Soldier, the rats attacked in the night and the nutcracker held them off until the rat king arrived. We fell in defense keeping him away from the child for as long as we could. Brave lad, he threw his shoe at the rat king but the rat king shrunk him down and he and the nutcracker made a retreat through the crack in the wall.”

Terry blinked, staring at the soldier and then rubbing his eyes. 

“I’ve got to be dreaming or high out of my mind.”

Terry was trying to remember if he'd seen mushrooms in the punch.

“No sir, if you wish an escort I can show you the way.”

“Me? Through a tiny crack in the wall, that’s not possible.”

“It is, I grabbed this off of the rat king as they hauled him out of here,” the soldier said holding up a bag. “Close your eyes and when you open them…we’ll see eye to eye.” 

Terry stared at the little soldier, at his carefully painted details, at the blue eyes that looked up at him, the voice that sounded just like his captain. There was something wrong with him, but he shut his eyes as the soldier requested and when he opened them he found himself looking at his captain. 

“Captain?” Terry asked softly, stunned. 

“You’re worried about the kid right? Come along soldier, we’ll make sure he gets home safe and sound.”

Terry nodded, surprised, following the toy soldier towards the wall, watching him wipe blood off his sword before returning it to it’s sheath and then stepping through, pausing to turn back and hold a hand out to Terry, whose heart was pounding fast and had leapt to his throat. He took it, carefully stepping through the crack with the toy soldier. 

It was dark at first, and then snowy. Like they’d stepped out into a blizzard and Terry shivered, pulling his cloak closer around himself. 

“Where are we?”

“Toyland is a name you could call it. Some also call it candy land,” the toy soldier said, walking away through the snow that crunched beneath his boots and Terry hurried to follow. 

“Those I thought were different places.”

“It’s a place of holiday magic, to turn back to normal size the boy and the nutcracker will have to go to the capital kingdom and be granted a wish.”

“How wizard of oz,” Terry responded dryly. 

“Careful,” the toy soldier said as Terry stepped onto ice and nearly slipped, but the toy soldiers arm wrapped around his waist and held him up right. “The snow only lasts a minute and then we’ll reach the river where they will for sure have caught a boat to the forest. Then it’s one waltz through the flower fields and straight to the palace.”

“How do you know all of this?” Terry asked walking with the man, surprised by how familiar he smelled. Like cigar smoke and the cologne his captain wore. 

“We all know this.”

“I don't know it. And you— you’re only what a week old?”

“I’m well over a week old, I’m a captain after all.”

“But I made you,” Terry said. “You’re just a toy soldier I made.”

“Yes and no. You gave me a vessel, but this is a place many know, generally found in dreams and lost upon waking beyond just a feeling of warmth and seasonal delight. It only becomes easy to traverse through on nights like tonight.”

“Christmas you mean?” Terry asked, surprised at how quickly it was warming up, at the sound of water in the distance. 

“Yes, Christmas, it makes things a little more…interesting around here,” the soldier said leading him down a dock.

“Going to the capital sir?” a person in bright blue clothes asked. 

“Yes,” the toy soldier said jumping aboard a boat, spinning, heels clicking together and then reaching out a hand for Terry who took it quickly, surprised by the strength in which he was pulled aboard. 

“What’s the capital like?”

“Full of faeries and other magical creatures,” the toy soldier said. “It’s the sugar plum fairy that grants wishes.”

“If Johnny and that nutcracker are going there to get their wishes fulfilled, to make Johnny normal sized again then what’s the point of us going after them?” Terry asked. 

“Because you’d worry yourself sick if you didn’t. You can’t sit still and just wait,” the toy soldier said. 

“Yes but…”

“You spent hours and hours trying to bring that boy joy for one moment within your sight. You care deeply for him, you spent the night searching for him only for him to be gone. You’d be restless if you didn’t follow to make sure he’s fine to make sure he gets home safely and to try and catch him should he stumble.”

“I do care but—”

“Look at that view,” the toy soldier said motioning to the horizon, to the sea the sailor sailed them through, to the trees that were impossibly green, the birds that were impossibly colorful and skies full of cotton candy clouds. 

“Is any of this real?” Silver asked looking at a fish that jumped out of the water that seemed to be red and almost translucent like a candy fish. 

Catching his eye the toy soldier struck his hand out catching the next fish that jumped and held it out to Terry. It thankfully didn’t move any more, seeming like the rigid candy he was used to but bigger. 

“Allow yourself the chance to dream, even if it’s just for tonight,” the toy soldier said, pressing his hand to Terry’s chest above his heart.

Chapter Text

The nutcracker…the boy who looked like a nutcracker kept trying to dance with him. It was like now that he was no longer stuck in that one position with the one movement he had to move every which way he could, which to Johnny’s pure embarrassment seemed to be dancing ballet. And the worst part was Johnny knew the moves.

Well maybe that wasn’t the worst part. The worst part was that it was pas de deux. The nutcracker kept trying to dance duets with him. Kept trying to use those noodle arms to lift him. 

Why couldn’t they just walk? Why did he kept dipping him? Why did strangers keep coming out of the towns they passed through to dance with them or to delight in their dancing?

Why the hell did it have to be ballet?

And why did he have the girls part? 

When they’d first made it through the crack in the wall it’d been cold, absolutely freezing and to be without his shoes had been a nightmare, but then the nutcracker had picked him up and Johnny nearly yelled at him to put him down on to realize the guy was trying to keep his toes from getting frozen in th esnow. 

They were greeted by a bunch of girls in white dresses that fussed over them and the nutcracker held him tight in his arms, motioning towards his feet before being given a change of clothes. 

A nightgown like he was Ebenezer Scrooge or something and ballet shoes. He didn’t understand how the gown would be of help when his suit at least had long sleeves and long pants. 

The girls wouldn’t leave him alone, wouldn’t stop fussing and Johnny had felt trapped until he put it on over his suit and put on the damn ballet shoes. He was not taking off his suit. It was too damn cold. 

And that was when the dancing started. Like a curse. The girls spoke but it just sounded like bells chiming, excitedly conversing and twittering and pulling him with them to dance. Lots of arabesque and développé, that seemed utterly ridiculous. The nutcracker eventually caught him and that started the long lasting pas de deux. 

It started slow, he’d walked for a bit in the direction he assumed they should go, the familiar feeling of ballet shoes on his feet feeling welcome and bizarre and trying to convince himself it was all a weird dream. What had Scrooge said some bad porridge or something? Though if any one deserved weird dreams on Christmas Eve surely that should’ve gone to Sid, not him. 

But then the nutcracker ran up to catch up with him, elegant footsteps before his hands, his fingers traced Johnny’s shoulders and arms, pulling them up to dance with him. 

“What is going on?” Johnny asked, confused, as he was pulled in close and the smell of sandalwood got stronger. 

“You are a delight.”

“Huh?”

“Out of all the glimmering gifts in that palace you chose me.”

Johnny felt his face flush red. “You just looked cool.”

“And when I was injured you gave me a precious treasure till I healed.”

“I—”

The nutcracker’s hands were on his waist and he was leading Johnny somewhere, somewhere Johnny knew he could turn to see, but if he did the nutcracker would just pull him back. He’d get maybe 5 steps and then whatever was happening would just start again, but those hands would pull him back. 

“You fought off the rat king with a shoe.”

“Where are we going?” Johnny asked before the nutcracker continued his…whatever he was doing.

“To the capital.”

“And there we’ll…?”

“Have our wishes heard.”

“So…wizard of oz? I click my ballet shoes together three times and get to go home?” Johnny asked.

He’d watched it with his godfather in a theater he’d rented just for them, it was something that had delighted his mother to sit with him in an empty theater with him and sing to the songs she knew. 

“No no, we dance,” the nutcracker said. “We impress the sugar plum fairy and then we get an audience to be heard. We tell the story of the rat king, your bravery in the face of a monster, and she will delight in you as I do and will send you home your normal size.”

Johnny frowned as the ground changed from snow to wood, as he was scooped into a fish pose, feet off the ground and high up in the air and his nose uncomfortably close to the water. 

Unlike new students, when the nutcracker held Johnny there weren’t any tremors or struggles in his limbs. He seemed completely sure of himself and his holds and grips on Johnny were secure. Looks sure were deceiving.

“So what’s this? Just practice?” Johnny asked when the nutcracker thankfully pulled him back. 

“Yes and also an expression of everything,” The nutcracker said lifting Johnny up onto a boat, paying a waiting person with some coins from his pocket and jumping aboard. 

“Of everything?” Johnny asked confused. 

“Hope, desire—” the nutcracker said pulling Johnny in close again, body flush against his own, for someone who’d been a wooden toy earlier that evening he was completely flesh and blood now. He was a warm solid heat, pressed up close against him and Johnny for a moment forgot to breathe as the nutcracker brought his hand to Johnny’s face. 

“Joy,” the nutcracker continued. 

“Joy?” Johnny repeated his mouth dry. 

“To find someone like you when all felt so dark and lost, someone so…much prettier than I ever expected I would find, or who would find me.”

“Because you were in our Christmas tree?” Johnny asked confused. 

“Because someone would find me eventually and I’m glad it was you.”

“You know nothing about me.”

“I know plenty, and I learn more with every move we make. Dancing is a form of communication and you’ve been talking with me for hours.”

It barely felt like hours. It was easy to dance with him. Like he knew what to do before hand.

His sensei talked about the dangers of telegraphing moves, but with dance it was helpful, it was good to do and the nutcracker was so easy to read, he had such a big warm smile and he smelled nice and his hands…the nutcracker moved, hands holding Johnny’s as he took calculated dancing steps away and then back, moving gracefully down to one knee and Johnny noticed the challenge, knowing the move that was expected of him. He hesitated just a moment before moving one leg up high, holding an arm out for balance. Whenever he'd seen it the girls who did it always looked so graceful. He doubted he looked that way now.

The nutcracker practically beamed at him. In karate it would’ve been a great high kick, now it just felt silly but he’d impressed the nutcracker, who gently guided his arm, his hand until the nutcracker was kissing the top of it and Johnny’s face flushed bright red. 

That was not part of any ballet Johnny had ever done. 

The nutcracker shifted forward, still supporting his arm, still slowly pulling Johnny towards him, kissing his wrist, his arm, and Johnny realized he could pull away, he could say no, he could decide that what he wanted to do was to go home and call Ali and see if she’d see him for new years.

But he didn’t actually want that. 

Instead he brought his other arm in, resting it on the nutcracker’s shoulder, lowering himself a little closer so that the nutcracker could meet him in a warm, sweet kiss. 

He was pulled down gently, the rest of the way, to sit with the nutcracker at the bottom of the ship, dancing coming to a stall, finally, as the nutcracker held him close as they kissed and the ship rocked on the way to the capital. 

Chapter Text

The capital was packed with people in colorful clothing. Many of them dancing. 

It was that damn ballet come to life Terry thought as he followed the toy soldier through the throngs of people towards the palace. The palace that looked just like the one he’d carved the night before which stunned him for a moment, enough so that the toy soldier had to circle back for him, taking his hand and leading him through the crowds. 

The guards at the palace saw the toy soldier who stopped to salute them, one handed, his other hand never leaving Terry’s and for a moment Terry didn’t want to return home. He wanted to stay in a land whose lamp poles seemed to be candy canes with gum drop lights. In a land where his captain held his hand so easily. 

The toy soldier led him through vast hallways of hard candied sugar to a grand hall where a crowd had gathered and Terry looked through the group to see what was at the center holding everyone's attention. 

Johnny who was dancing with the nutcracker. 

Terry had seen all of Johnny’s performances, had even slipped in to watch his karate tournaments, too unsure what to say to his captain to stick around, but always in delight at his growth. But never had Terry seen Johnny like this. 

“Oh,” Terry said softly. 

“What is it?” the toy soldier asked. 

“He’s fallen in love hasn’t he?”

Johnny’s eyes didn’t stray from the nutcrackers. A simple boy, smaller than Johnny who smiled at Johnny like he’d hung the moon and stars in the sky. 

Terry wanted that. 

He wanted to have his love returned in such a way, and to be secure in it. To have someone to dance with whose eyes were only for him. 

“Ah,” the toy soldier said softly. “Then the curse will be broken.”

“What curse?”

“You know the story.”

“The nutcracker yeah. Girl gets nutcracker, nutcracker is broken,” Terry said listing off the things that had happened that night to Johnny. 

“No about the nutcracker itself.”

Terry frowned, most of the last half of the ballet was just different candy beings or different cultures dancing. Not much about the nutcracker itself. 

“It's from the story, not the ballet,” the toy soldier said leaning in close. “The nutcracker is a cursed prince from a far off place. He tried to help someone but messed up a little and got turned into the nutcracker and only gets turned back over love, love from someone who takes a shine to his nutcracker form.”

“Someone who likes a man in uniform?” Terry asked amused. “That’s practically everyone.”

The toy solider laughed looking at his own uniform and then grinning at Terry. “Is that why I’m wearing my dress uniform instead of the every day wear?”

Terry felt his face flush for a moment, caught and embarrassed. “It’s just more eye catching.”

“Sure it is.”

“So what happens now?”

“The sugar plum fairy grants their wishes and sends them home.”

“And that’s for anyone?” Terry asked. 

“You have a wish?” the toy soldier asked.

“Doesn’t everyone?” Terry asked. 

The toy soldier frowned looking at the dancing teens. 

“Pas de deux is difficult.”

“Huh?” Terry asked. 

“Pas de deux, to dance a duet is difficult.”

“Oh…yeah,” Terry said softly, the nutcracker had finished with its tale of their long journey which seemed to include stopping for a break in a flower garden and had lifted Johnny into the air. Kid was stronger than he looked for his spaghetti arms. 

Johnny looked so happy. 

“I’ll do it,” the toy soldier said. 

Terry looked at him, at the determination on his face. 

“What?”

“I’ll dance with you.”

“Huh?”

“So that the sugar plum fairy hears your wish. Come, we must go down to be next,” the toy soldier said taking Terry’s hand and pulling him through the groups of people. 

“But I don’t know how to do ballet. I don’t really dance much,” Terry said. 

“Everyone can dance here, besides you know karate, it’s close enough to a dance or waltz if you just give it a try. Just focus on what you want the most in the whole world and then move and I’ll support you.”

“But—”

“Terry, what doesn’t exist in the dojo?”

“Fear,” Terry said automatically. 

“Correct,” the toy soldier said stopping to talk to a guard and Terry watched as Johnny and the nutcracker were motioned towards some seats now that their dance was done.

“We’ll be third,” the toy soldier said. “After the coffee dance.”

Terry frowned looking at the dancers taking the center of the grand ballroom, and then he looked back up at where Johnny was sitting, the nutcracker prince was leaning over to whisper to him and Johnny’s face turned a little pink, the nutcracker taking his hand. 

“What’s going to happen when Johnny goes home?” Terry asked feeling a sense of dread rise up in him, the way he’d felt after he’d agreed to the dojo only for his father to tell him he couldn’t do it. Not if he wanted the money to fund the dojo. Not if he wanted a roof over his head. Not if he still wanted to be a Silver. 

“He’ll go home and the princeling will also go home.”

“Together?” Terry asked, voice barely a whisper. His godson went through enough living with Sid Weinberg. He still had a few years left before he was free. And this whole adventure was probably eye opening, a realization for Johnny. To go home alone, without the nutcracker, without his prince…it’d be like all the years without his captain. He wouldn’t wish that pain on anyone else. 

“No,” the toy soldier said softly, grabbing a hat and colorful cloak from a guard and turning to Terry, putting the hat atop his head and wrapping the cloak around his shoulders.

He studied Terry for a moment before cupping the back of his head, fingers sliding into his hair in a touch that made Terry’s hair stand on end. There was a warm fond smile on the toy soldier’s face. A smile Terry hadn’t painted on, that felt so real that Terry didn’t want to go home, he didn’t want to leave, he wanted to stay in this world where he wasn’t the CEO of Dynatox. Where he didn’t have to go to board and business meetings, where the livelihoods of thousands didn’t depend on his ability to schmooze with politicians and the law in order to keep all the gears running.

Maybe he could run away. Maybe he could live in some candy cane forest in a gingerbread house building toys for girls and boys and maybe he could persuade a handsome toy soldier to live with him. They could live a simple life just the two of them. 

Terry felt a gentle tug and felt his hair fall from the pony tail it’d been in, the toy soldier pulling his hand back, the ribbon coming with it. 

“Better,” the toy soldier said and Terry stared at him in shock before turning his head, nodding to someone and then taking Terry’s arm. “Close your eyes and think of what you want most of all, with all your heart.”

Terry frowned, brow furling. 

“Close them Terry, and think of your wish,” the toy soldier said gently, softer. 

Terry closed his eyes. If he lived here forever then what would happen to Johnny? Without Terry there as at least a place to run away to? He couldn’t let Laura down on that, not after she’d found him alone at some awful party and had sat with him. How she’d found him he didn’t fully know, she just said “You look like you need some company.” Not in the way that sounded like a pick up line, but in a soft way that seemed to say she understood on some level that he needed an ear or at least someone nearby to just be there. Someone who didn’t want anything. 

At first he’d recoiled, trying to place her, what she could possibly want. She was pretty and dressed in a very expensive designer dress. She wore expensive jewelry with real stones and real silver. Everything about her seemed like someone from the circles he frequented. But she didn’t hold herself right. There was something about her make up and her hair and the way she held herself that made him wonder. The opening to ask him for something had passed. And for a while she just sat there with her crystal punch glass and saucer, quietly watching the party without the look of someone eager to return to it. 

“You know I thought I’d bring my son with me tonight, but I’m glad I didn’t. He’s a bit like you—”

There it was. Whatever she wanted it was going to come now. 

“He doesn’t seem to know what to do with himself at parties either”

Terry blinked, unsure if he should be offended or not. 

“He’s just a little thing, gets picked on a lot, but he always gets back up. Sometimes it takes awhile, but he does. He doesn’t give up. But he also hides so much of himself. I want to give him the world. I want him to have the best of everything. Or at least more than I ever could’ve given him before on my waitress’s tips.”

She was looking for a husband.

Well Terry was not it. 

“But it’s hard to learn all of this stuff. My husband introduced me to the right people, buys me lots of things, but I miss it sometimes. Quiet things. Fighting with the rabbit ears together to try and figure out the best way to get good reception to watch some TV show together on our old TV. The way he’d help me grab buckets if the ceiling started leaking from a surprise storm. The delight on his face whenever we cooked something together and it turned out well. You’d think with money there’d be all this time for everything, to do anything but there’s not. There’s so many parties to go to, so many people to meet, so much to do, I don’t know the last time we cooked together. I thought I’d be giving him more, a family, a community but I think it just made him an island lost in the sea of a party unsure where to go or what to do without direction. Sid’s not the most patient with him and I’m still learning it all. He needs like a fairy godmother or something. Maybe we both do.”

She sighed then took a sip of her punch. 

Sid. He knew a Sid who’d just gotten married. Bastard of a man, what had the scuttlebutt been? He’d snatched up a beauty from the gutters to make his own trophy wife to take on his arm with him to all the events and she even came with a boy, a kid that Sid seemed to use as a prop despite everyone knowing he hated kids with a passion. 

Laura had been her name. 

Terry had thought when he’d heard the news, poor girl and then when he heard about the boy, poor kid. It was on a whim that he dug into the pocket of his suit jacket and pulled out a windup bird that he’d made and held it out to her. 

Most people asked if it was something he’d bought, dropping the names of fancy designers but she looked at it with such delight that he realized he’d been found by someone he needed. An audience who didn’t know who he was and didn’t care. Someone he could share the things he made with. 

“This is beautiful,” Laura said in awe, studying the bird as it flapped its mechanical wings and bent its head before looking up at Terry. “Did you make this?”

No one had ever guessed that correctly before. Everyone always assumed he bought it. 

“I did. Laura right? The new Mrs. Weinberg?” Terry asked softly. 

“Oh,” Laura said her face turning red. “You have me at a disadvantage.”

It was practiced language, formal, and recited. Terry smiled softly, reaching back into his jacket for a cobra he’d made, a snake that slithered and danced when you wound it up. 

“For your son. And while I don’t know any fairy godmothers, if you’re in the market for a godfather, I’d happily be of service.”

“I don’t even know your name.”

“Terry Silver.”

It’d been impulsive but it’d been the happiest thing he’d done in a while. Even more so when he actually met Johnny. Laura hadn’t told him about the potential of Terry being his godfather and instead invited Terry over for tea. He’d sat with Johnny who was such a small thing at the time, showing him toys he’d made and watching the quiet kid come out of his shell, delighted to learn and full of attention the other kids in Terry’s circle didn’t have. He was like a sponge, learning how the gears made the toys move, all the intricacies of how Terry made things. 

“You’re amazing,” Johnny whispered in awe when Terry showed him a dancing toy he’d made. 

It was all a balm for Terry’s ego, it soothed whatever Dynatox or his father had torn up and wounded inside of him. When it was time to go Johnny had very carefully packed up all the toys back in the box Terry had brought them in and then held them up for Terry to take with him. 

He expected nothing from Terry, that the afternoon wasn’t showing Johnny how his new toys worked, but that Terry was just teaching him. 

It was an impulse that made Terry scoop Johnny up, watching the boys eyes widen in shock at the action, at the height he’d never been at before and he couldn’t help but tease the boy. 

“Do you not like the toys?” Terry asked. 

“They are wonderful,” Johnny had said. 

“You don’t want them then?”

“I do but—” Johnny said frowning then looking at Terry, small hands on his shoulders, brows knit like he was contemplating something before offering a very fragile question. “Do you mean I can keep one?”

“One?” Terry asked. “I mean for you to keep them all.”

“But why?”

“Because you are a kid.”

“But there are lots of kids and—”

“But those kids are not my godson.”

Johnny stared at him for a moment, then twisted in Terry’s arms to look at his mother who nodded and Johnny turned back to Terry and wrapped his arms around Terry’s neck, hugging him tight. 

It’d been nice to tell his father he had a godson. His father approved because he liked the merciless way Sid Weinberg did business and Sid Weinberg liked it because the Silver’s were rich. 

But the pure beauty of it was that he had an excuse. 

“Sorry I can’t go to that meeting tomorrow I’m taking my godson to the zoo.”

“I can’t go to that party it’s my godson’s birthday.”

“I can’t—I can’t—I can’t.”

It was the sweetest phrase to touch his tongue in a long time. 

He couldn’t give that up. He couldn’t leave Johnny behind in the real world to live out this fantasy. Not if Johnny would return without him and with his heart broken. No, what he needed to wish for was that there’d be a chance for a happy ending somewhere. Some loophole that would allow Johnny to find that nutcracker prince again. 

He opened his eyes and the toy soldier smiled at him, leading him to the dance floor.

How long had it been since he’d danced with the captain?

Shortly after they got back from Vietnam?

Before Terry told him that he couldn’t be a part of the dojo, that he had to run Dynatox. They’d gotten drunk at a bar and Terry had followed John back to his place, stumbling up the stairs and John had turned on the radio, playing some music, old slow love songs and he’d turned to Terry with wet looking eyes, like he was on the verge of crying but not quite there yet. He was holding it at bay. And he’d reached for Terry and Terry reached for John, pulled in like a magnet, wrapping his arms around John as they swayed, not talking, just dancing like they had in Vietnam the few times they’d had the chance to. 

Maybe, Terry thought as his eyes stung, this was all just a dream from too much spiked punch. A bittersweet and sad holiday dream. And when he woke up he’d be back home, alone, and he’d go back to work on the 26^th and it’d all be just a memory. 

Chapter Text

Johnny could’ve sworn that one of the dancers was his sensei and his godfather. It was very odd, they were sitting far enough away to make him doubt it, plus he didn’t see his godfather with his hair down very much.

He kept trying to focus, to pay attention, to figure it out, but then the nutcracker would lean over and say something hilarious or would gently kiss his cheek, neck or ear and all focus would be gone. 

Eventually he gave up and just watched the dancers, watched as the night came to an end, as the delicious food, all crystalized and candied or rich came to an end and the sugar plum fairy did her dance of the night. 

“She’ll gesture to us if she’ll grant our wishes,” the nutcracker said softly. 

“What if she doesn’t?”

“What do you mean?” The nutcracker asked.

“What if she doesn’t grant our wish?” 

The nutcracker leaned closer, wrapping his arms around Johnny and Johnny turned to him, feeling a swell of panic as his nose met the nutcrackers, brushing against his. 

“Then we’ll live together here, we’ll carve out a life together.”

“You make that sound so easy.”

“Why does it have to be difficult?”

“But—”

“I lived quite a while as a nutcracker, unable to move, unable to speak, unable to even blink. All I could do was open and close my jaw and crush things. For an evening I even lost my arm. Even though I was made of wood I could still feel it. Everything. It was a curse. Only on Christmas is there a chance for this type of magic. Do you realize what a small window that is? To have a curse broken? To have a chance? I was steeling myself for giving up and living here when you found me.”

“A curse?” Johnny asked. 

“Yes, I caught the rat queen in my own home and trapped her. And the rat king cursed me for it and for some of the things I said.”

Johnny covered the nutcrackers hand with his own. “I’m glad you’re…safe and are you un-cursed now?”

The nutcracker frowned thoughtfully. “I’m not sure.”

“What has to be done to break it?”

“A kiss.”

“We have kissed.”

“But I’m not sure how many is required. Or which one will undo it. So I think we’re just going to have to keep at it, to be sure.”

Johnny stared at him, at his crooked little grin, the mischievous look in his eyes and felt his skin burn. But he reached out, cupping the nutcrackers face in his hands and kissed him, a soft and sweet kiss before pulling away, just barely, 

“Did that do it?”

“Can’t be sure.”

Johnny leaned in again, feeling something wet brush against his lips, then the tug of teeth, a pinch that stung and he opened his mouth enough for the nutcracker’s tongue to slide into his. He’d only kissed Ali a few times and they’d all been rather…simple.

The tongue in his mouth was new. He wasn’t quite sure what he was supposed to be doing but the nutcracker didn’t seem to care that he was new to this. It was a different type of pas de deux and Johnny followed, copying the nutcrackers movements, meeting him where he could with as much energy as the nutcracker gave until the music stopped and it got quiet and the nutcracker pulled away, smiling at him while Johnny breathed hard, feeling overwhelmed, heart racing, and way too hot. 

“Looks like our wishes will be granted,” the nutcracker said and Johnny turned his head looking at the sugar plum fairy who was smiling at them, looking amused and Johnny turned an even darker shade of red, wanting to disappear under the table.

The nutcracker however took off his jacket, wrapping it around Johnny’s shoulders and helped him up, taking his hand and walking towards the sugar plum fairy. 

The fact he thought he saw his godfather was probably a trick of his eyes, of the whole dream because the sugar plum fairy looked like Ali. Just like the earlier dancers had looked like his friends. There was something sad about realizing that it was a dream that was about to end. That the sweet nutcracker next to him would go back to being a toy or a holiday decoration. He felt too warm to not be real. Too substantial. 

The sugar plum fairy leaned in, kissing both their cheeks and it tickled. 

“Merry Christmas Johnny,” she said. “You’ll be okay.”

He wasn’t sure if that was true, but he still appreciated it. She turned to the nutcracker and squeezed his arms. “My dear nutcracker prince your spell is broken, congratulations, merry Christmas.”

The nutcracker smiled warmly, giving her a hug, before turning to Johnny, lifting him off the ground and spinning him in a tight hug. 

This was it. 

He was going home. 

Tears welled up in Johnny’s eyes. The nutcracker though, he wasn’t going home with him though, was he?

“Do we even live in the same place?” Johnny whispered looking down at the nutcracker that held him aloft with ease. 

“I’ll find you. I promise,” the nutcracker said, gently lowering Johnny back down. “I need to make sure the curse breaking takes you know? Which I think requires upkeep.”

Johnny leaned in giving him a soft kiss. 

“I’ll wait,” he promised. 

The nutcracker smiled, taking his hand, one last dance before the dream was over. A bittersweet dance that Johnny cried through because who knew where the nutcracker lived. He was probably from this land of candy canes and gumdrops. He was probably just a figment of Johnny’s imagination. And how dare it create someone he felt he could love so fully only to snatch him away?

The ground left them behind. Or they left the ground behind. Dancing on air was terrifying if Johnny focused on it. But it was a dream he reminded himself, and in dreams you could do things you couldn’t otherwise, like float and dance at the same time. 

Johnny woke up to the grandfather clock chiming the hour and pushed himself up, rubbing tears from his face. He was in the living room next to the big Christmas tree sleeping on the couch. As he looked around it looked like nothing had happened. No battle with rats, no toy soldiers, no crack in the wall. 

He got up, taking his blanket with him, looking around for his nutcracker only to see no sign of it. He sighed, pulling the blanket closer around him, and making his way upstairs to his room to go back to bed, hoping for a dreamless sleep, because he was pretty sure he couldn’t handle another one like that that left him feeling so utterly alone when he awoke. 

Chapter Text

It had taken over a year and an additional six months and a dumb amount of resources before Terry landed in Newark and made his way through the city. He had sketched out the nutcracker as soon as he’d woken up, determined to find the little bastard. He’d sent his sketch out to all his contacts and someone in New York had passed it on to Jersey and said there was a kid that looked like that in Newark. 

Terry had to keep reminding himself it wasn’t this kids fault. That Johnny had cried so damn much since Christmas. That a curse wasn’t the punks fault. 

But still, Terry was running on fumes trying to find the kid ever since Christmas Day when he went back to the Weinberg family and once the brunch was done, once they were alone Johnny had rushed into his arms and burst into tears. He knew it wasn't the nutcrackers fault, but he sure did blame the kid for those tears anyway.

Terry walked down the streets, following the directions he’d been given to an apartment complex. School should’ve let out a few weeks ago so there was no telling if the kid would even be home. 

He walked to the right door and knocked. He waited and he heard footsteps, heard the door unlock and a woman opened the door. Terry unfurled the sketch and watched her eyes widen. 

“Daniel?” she breathed in surprise. 

Terry nodded and she motioned for him to come in, taking the sketch from him. 

“He’s at the library, ever since the Christmas before last he’s been there, searching for something, but he’ll be home soon for lunch.”

“I can wait,” Terry said as she brought him a cup of coffee that he sipped on taking in the home. 

It wasn’t the home of a prince.

Johnny’s home was more that of a prince. 

“Was he by chance sick that Christmas?”

“He was, how did you know?”

“Sometimes the cold can be like that. Have you ever thought of moving to California? To LA?”

“Who are you?”

Terry smiled, pulling out his business card and passing it along to her. “I’m CEO to Dynatox but I also run a small toy making business.” He pulled out from his pocket a wind up cat, winding it up and setting it on the table, it stretched and yawned before pouncing.

He asked her about her work, what she did, what she was studying in her night classes and learned she had a knack for computers.

“I need people with computer skills,” Terry said. “My secretary is old school and thinks they’re awful so a lot of things in my business haven’t been upgraded yet. I’m afraid she wouldn’t even know where to start looking to hire someone to even help, so maybe this is kismet.”

Lucille looked at him in surprise. 

“I thought you were here to see Daniel.”

“I am, I was going to offer him an internship at the toy company I’m starting. There’s a party coming up that I could use help with that I think he’d be invaluable for. Does Daniel know how to dance by chance?”

“He does,” Lucille said with a warm smile. “He used to dance with me all the time.”

“What kind of dance would that be?”

“Oh everything, when I was young my parents put me in a dancing troupe. I did it all all the way up until I got married. Ballet, tap dancing, waltzing, swing, jazz. I taught Daniel all of it.”

That explained it. 

“Perfect,” Terry said, waiting. He just about finished his coffee when the door opened and a boy who looked like he had no grace made his way in. 

“Daniel, a Mr. Terry Silver is here to see you,” Lucille said. 

Daniel looked up, frowning, trying to place Terry but failing.

Terry stood and he watched the boy startle at Terry’s height.

Terry reached into his pocket, searching for his wallet. 

“I am a toymaker in LA, I believe we have a dear friend in common.” Terry pulled out the photo of Johnny that Terry had gotten from Laura after Christmas of Johnny and Terry under the big tree, Johnny hugging the nutcracker in his arms, his hatchimaki binding the arm in place.

Daniel took it carefully, eyes widening in surprise before looking up at Terry in astonishment. 

“Johnny?” Daniel asked. 

Terry had carefully made sure not to say his name, to ensure he’d found the right kid. 

“My godson,” Terry said. “I was thinking, maybe you could be of help and maybe your mother too. Have you ever been to LA?”

Daniel shook his head, holding that photo so carefully that Terry almost felt bad taking it back, almost.

It was his photo after all. 

“Have you ever flown before?”

“Wait a second, hold on,” Lucille said. 

“Yes?”

“I don’t even know if you’re really who you say you are.”

Terry smiled softly, “Call the number on the card.”

Lucille looked at the business card and gave it a call. He listened as she asked about Dynatox, about Terry Silver, for the address of the place, if it truly was in LA, and then, to Terry’s amusement she started grilling the staff about computers. By the end she looked surprised and hung up the phone before sinking into a chair eyes wide. 

“Ma, what is it?” Daniel asked. 

“They offered me a job. Immediately.”

“What?”

“They’d pay for me to relocate and help the company come more up to speed with computers. It’d be huge, the salary they offered--”

“Is just a basic one,” Terry said. “It can be more.”

She looked at him like he was some sort of strange creature that had just appeared on her doorstep out of the shadows. 

“I was thinking of applying to a company in LA to work on computers…but this…this is way more than I was offered for them.”

“So we’re going to LA?”

“Immediately if you’d like.” Terry said. He waved around the apartment. “I can have people come and get all of this and move it into a new place for you.”

Lucille stared at him, then looked at Daniel, the look of a mother weighing her options based on the opportunities it afforded her son, a look he recognized from seeing it so often on Laura’s face, before she turned to look at a photo of a man on the wall. She stood up and carefully took it off the wall. 

“We’ll check it out,” Lucille said. “See if it’s a good fit.”

“I can give you return tickets so if it doesn’t work out you can leave at any time.”

That calmed her a bit and she looked around, before looking back at Daniel. “Pack a suitcase and anything you’d be sad if it went missing. I’ll call the family and let them know where we are.”

Terry watched them divide and conquer. The quick way she dialed up family, laying ground work to make sure someone was there to keep an eye on the apartment, to eat any perishable food, giving them Terry’s name and information from the business card, a promise to call when they landed and then she disappeared to her own bedroom, packing up a suitcase and returning grinning at Daniel and ruffling his hair. 

“California is full of sun and surf, beaches and swimming, you can spend the summer swimming, can you imagine that? And there’ll be lots of blondes!”

“Ma!” Daniel said face turning red. 

“She’s right,” Terry said opening the door and motioning towards the car waiting for them, the driver hopping out and rushing up the stairs to carry their bags. “And I know of at least one blonde who will be ecstatic to see you.”

“I didn’t know you had any friends in LA,” Lucille said. 

“It’s a long story.”

“Well it’ll be a long flight,” Lucille said. 

Chapter Text

Johnny sat in the garden behind his godfathers home. It was a hot sunny day and the staff kept bringing him lemonades and iced tea.

Terry was late. Which was unusual for him and Johnny was sick of sitting up straight and stiff. No one was around so he got up, toed off his shoes and walked through the grass towards the pool. Roses were in bloom at the edge of the garden and Johnny did a pirouette just because no one was around and they reminded him of the flowers that had waltzed through his dreams one Christmas, before sinking into the grass with a graceless flop. 

He should’ve cared about his clothes, about his suit, about ensuring he still looked nice, but he really didn’t care. Sid was out of town and his mom was supposed to meet him there. With his surprise for his godfather. 

Well he wasn’t sure if it was a surprise, it was just an inkling of something that nagged at him from his dream. He heard the sound of tires on the driveway and he stayed in the grass, feeling it tickle his skin in the breeze. 

“Johnny! I’m sorry I’m late,” Terry called. “I just needed an assistant for your birthday surprise.”

Johnny pushed himself up and spotted Terry on the other side of the pool rolling in a box. A big box. 

Johnny wasn’t as excited as he usually was with his godfather’s gifts. Now toys just reminded him of the nutcracker and made him sad. But he pushed himself up out of the grass and walked over, standing where his godfather moved him to. 

Terry walked to a tape player, pushing a button and then with a smile hovered his hand over the box. 

“It took a long time to find, but I found you a Cavalier.”

His hand fell on top of the box with a thunk and it fell apart, right in time for a figure to leap out of the box. The music was a waltz, and tan hands found his, pulling him in close. 

“Nutcracker!” Johnny said in surprise. 

“Daniel,” the nutcracker corrected with a big smile. “That is if you continue to ward off the curse.”

Johnny laughed, not caring that his godfather was there, kissing the nutcracker, kissing Daniel. They danced and danced and danced and his heart felt so full that he didn’t notice the hours whiling away until he heard the sound of more tires on the drive and he heard his mother's voice and he stopped, Daniel opening his mouth to ask what when Johnny spoke—

“Hold on, this is—” Johnny looked at him, kissing Daniel again, pulling away, then kissing Daniel again before fully letting go and running towards the front of the house, towards the car where his mother was walking up the steps and a familiar figure walked slowly behind her, talking a little about Johnny, praising him and Johnny, too delighted to think much of it, of how maybe it wasn’t the most polite, hurried down the stairs and grabbed the man's arm pulling him up the stairs towards the room where his godfather had retired to, to stand and drink his wine and watch over the party from a distance in that sad solemn air he'd had for a while, that had given him and Daniel some privacy. 

“Godfather Silver please meet my sensei, Sensei Kreese,” Johnny said letting go of Kreese who seemed flummoxed at the force and familiarity at which Johnny had gotten him there. Something almost out of character for Johnny had he not recently been given the best birthday gift of his life and now cared little about appearances or other formalities.

Johnny had never seen his godfather look so startled. He nearly dropped his glass of wine but sensei Kreese took two steps forward and caught it, gently setting it down on a table nearby. 

“Long time no see Terry.”

“Captain," Terry breathed. 

Sensei Kreese was smiling, hooking his thumbs in his jacket the way he usually did with his gi. 

“Someone hasn’t come by the dojo in a long time.”

“I’ve been—”

“Greatly missed,” Sensei Kreese said. 

Terry pulled the man into a hug, a big hug, the backbreaking kind and for a moment Johnny thought he saw tears in his godfathers eyes. 

“I’ve missed you so much. I even dreamed—”

“Of dancing for wishes?” Kreese asked amused. “Strange how that seems kind of contagious.”

“You had the same—”

“Didn’t I tell you I’d always be there when you needed me?”

“I’ve needed you so much though.” Terry said. 

Kreese stepped back looking up at him, cupping his face, “You didn’t ask until then. All you gotta do is ask.”

“I’m going to—go,” Johnny said softly, face a little pink when he realized his godfather and sensei were probably going to kiss and he hurried out of the house and back to the yard, holding his hand out to Daniel who walked over. 

“Mom this is Daniel.”

“Hi Daniel, do you know Johnny from karate?”

“No, uh we met by chance over Christmas at a…dance,” Daniel said. 

“I didn’t know you went to a dance,” Laura said turning to Johnny. 

“It was…like a dream,” Johnny said. “Daniel just got here from —”

“Newark with my ma. She got a new job working at Dyantox. Nice to meet you ma’am.”

“Nice to meet you too Daniel. I look forward to meeting your mother.”

Daniel smiled squeezing Johnny’s arm and walking off to go get some tea. 

“He’s cute,” Laura said and Johnny stiffened, face turning bright red. 

“Mom!” He squeaked. 

“And he dances,” She continued, smiling at him. “What are you and your godfather up to huh? Matchmaking for each other?”

“It’s all just…happenstance,” Johnny said. 

“You know he looks kind of familiar,” Laura said, with a thoughtful frown, looking at Daniel who scooped up a walnut off the table and popped it into his mouth shell and all, the shell cracked beneath his teeth and he popped it back into his hand, digging through the fragments for the meat of the nut that he popped into his mouth and then turned to look at them with a grin and a wave. 

“The nutcracker!” Laura said with a gasp before turning to Johnny and then looking through the window at Sensei Kreese who was kissing Johnny’s godfather. “And that guy, your sensei looked familiar and I thought it was because I’ve seen him at your practices, but he’s that toy soldier Terry made, isn’t he?”

“It was just a weird dream," Johnny protested. "And sensei Kreese has existed long before my godfather made that toy."

“It was a magical time of year,” Laura said. “I’m just glad you didn’t get hurt in your adventures.”

“The snacks are really good,” Daniel said handing Johnny a lemonade and another to Laura. 

“You’re moving to LA right?” Laura asked. 

“Yes.”

“Johnny has to be home by 1am after dates okay?”

“Mom!”

“I don’t have my own car yet.” 

“That’s okay, Johnny does. Where are you living by the way?”

“Ma picked out a place in Reseda. Mr. Silver isn’t too fond of it but Ma wanted to do it herself and it’s what we can currently afford. I’ve got the address.”

“Oh nice, that’s near the school,” Laura said. “Johnny can show you where the classes are and where everything is at school when it starts up in a couple of weeks. He’s in karate now, that blonde man inside his sensei. He has practice three days a week after school and tournaments a couple times a year. Other than that he’s pretty free. He just needs to keep up his grades. If you enjoy dancing like Johnny does, I have a membership to the ballet and you can use the box seats we have. Sid and I don’t go as frequently as we once did. We also have memberships to many of the other cultural things in the city that you and Johnny can use. So, think you can make sure you’re home before 1?”

“Tonight?” Johnny asked. 

“Why not? After the cake I think I’ll probably head home, it seems your sensei is a bit busy checking on your godfathers tonsils to be here at the moment, so I’m pretty sure he can catch a ride back some other way.” 

“Gross mom.”

“You’re the one who pushed them together I don’t know what you were expecting when you played cupid.” she said looking amused. Johnny refused to follow her gaze, not sure if he could handle watching his sensei and godfather make out. “Anyway Daniel, welcome to LA. I’m glad you’re not a nutcracker anymore, if you’ll both excuse me I’m going to go get that cake.”

“How’d she know?” Daniel asked. 

“She guessed.”

“That’s a weird thing to guess isn’t it?”

Johnny nodded. “She's always been really into fairy tales, she'd read them to me all the time. But it also makes things easier right? Like she’s not questioning who or why or how or anything.”

“True,” Daniel said taking Johnny’s hand. “So, you have a car? We could go to the ballet?”

“If you want. I think they’re doing Sleeping Beauty.” 

“You’d make a lovely sleeping beauty.”

Johnny blinked, blushing lightly as Daniel kissed him. 

“Did your mom mean it when she said you have box seats?”

“Yeah my stepfather got them for business deals, they’re private so that he can talk to people without being overheard.”

“And we’d be alone?” Daniel asked, hand sliding around Johnny’s waist and into the back of his jean pocket. 

“Yeah,” Johnny breathed. 

“Then I think we have to go,” Daniel said giving Johnny a kiss on his neck and a squeeze. 

“Absolutely,” Johnny said, wondering how fast they could get there, and trying to decide how much of the ballet he actually wanted to see versus how much he just wanted to be alone someplace private and dark with Daniel. 

“Alright,” Laura said setting the cake down on the table, singing to him softly, the candles lit. “Make a wish.”

Johnny looked at Daniel, at his god father who had stepped out of the house with his sensei to join in this part of the party. His god father’s hair wasn’t as neat and orderly as usual, a bit of a mess. His sensei dug into his jacket pocket pulling out a ribbon and then very gently fixed Terry's hair, tying it off with a ribbon, Terry staring at him in fond surprise. 

Johnny smiled, closing his eyes and blowing out the candles. He wished for them to continue down this happy path together. 

Laura cut the cake, giving them each a slice and Johnny forced himself not to inhale it. Taking careful bites of chocolate cake, Daniel’s leg bouncing next to his own, warm and jittery like he was too amped, too excited, like he needed to move. 

Johnny understood that. He’d spent so much time frozen himself, just like the nutcracker had been. He was stuck under Sid’s house and rules, jumping when he was told to and only then, only really free whenever he left.

He’d had to carve out spaces to figure out how to be himself and even then he hadn’t been. Not fully. He gave only a part of himself in each section of his life. Only one side for his cobras who got the most, another for school and the kids there, but Daniel…Daniel was like dancing, this innate understanding of his body and the way it moved and surety. He wanted to spend hours talking to Daniel, he also wanted to spend hours just speaking with him physically. Dancing or…potentially more. 

He finished his cake, opened the gifts his godfather had gotten him, and his sensei. A new bright red jacket for the cobra kai dojo and some things from his mother, before hugging his godfather, shaking his sensei’s hand, kissing his mothers cheek and then hurrying off to the car with Daniel, excited to be with him again, free of all spells, curses, and strict awful rules, finally together. 

Chapter Text

Terry walked Laura to her car, he wasn’t sure what the day would bring when he’d brought Daniel to his home. He’d assumed he’d have to help Daniel and Johnny sneak off, not that they’d get a blessing in advance from Laura. She stood at her car then stood up on tip toes kissing his cheek. 

“If you go for it, I think you won’t have to hide in corners at parties by yourself anymore,” she said. 

Terry blinked, staring at her, smiling softly as she got into her car. “I wasn’t by myself, I had you.”

She smiled back, giving his arm a squeeze before slipping into the car. 

“Have fun Terry, and go for what you truly want, you always make sure Johnny and I get what we want, be a little selfish this time okay?”

“Drive safe,” Terry said. 

Laura nodded, shutting the door and driving off and Terry turned back towards his home, back towards where his beloved captain was waiting, nursing a beer. 

Terry walked up the steps carefully trying to think of what he actually wanted. How to express himself after so many years of being unable to. How to respond to John having the ribbon that the toy soldier had taken out of his hair that Christmas.

John was leaning against the door frame, waiting. 

“You know,” he said pointing to himself, “When we danced I also got a wish granted.”

“You did?” Terry asked. 

“You want to know what I wished for?”

“Yeah.”

“For you to be happy,” John said stepping towards him. “You looked so sad every time I looked at you. Every time I swung past to check on you you looked so depressed and I just didn’t know what to do, how to help. To think my top student became your godson...luck seemed to be on my side. And when I woke up in that toy soldier on Christmas after too much to drink at the bar I thought I’d give it my all. Because you looked so worried and you were alone. I thought you’d have some doll on your arm.”

“I didn’t want a doll,” Terry said softly. 

“I get that now. You wanted a solider. Thankfully it’s a bit…ingrained.” John said. 

Terry laughed and John smiled at him. “I didn’t want a solider either.”

“No?” John asked with a frown. “I could’ve sworn—”

“I just wanted you,” Terry said. “Ever since the first day I met you. You were so…nice compared to everyone else. Polite. And when the going got tough, you always made sure I never got left behind. You always looked after me and I…just fell deeper and deeper in love with you. I wanted so badly to run the dojo with you. But you didn’t have enough money to open it on your own and without my dad’s money I had nothing, the only thing I could give you was his money after I took over. It was the only way but then I felt like I’d betrayed you and—”

John sat down on Terry’s couch and Terry sat down next to him. 

“You know what I always wanted to be?” Terry asked digging through his pockets and pulling out a box, handing it to John. 

John opened it up carefully watching the tiger that slept in a tree yawn, its tail swishing back and forth with the soft click of gears. 

“I want to make stuff. I want people to enjoy what I make. It’s why I became Johnny’s godfather. I needed an excuse, an outlet, an audience and Laura just happened to be there when I needed it with a son. I wanted to leave something behind, not just a company where I was just the face but unknown, I was unknown with the dojo too. The only one to remember me…I needed…no I wanted something of my own. Some mark. And delighting Johnny…that was nice. But for a minute I almost didn’t pick him. I didn’t pick this for my wish.”

“No?” John asked dragging his attention from the tiger. 

“I wanted to just live there, forever, with you. Make a life together, you and I.”

“That’s what you wanted most of all?” John asked. 

“More than anything, but I couldn’t leave Johnny here alone. Not with his awful stepfather.”

John reached out and took Terry’s hand, squeezing it gently. 

“I don’t have much, but if you want to try it... you’ve always brought me something bright. You were always so innocent in war. Like a baby animal lost in the great wild surrounded by predators.”

“Hey.”

“It was cute,” John said, “I wanted to keep you safe. You became my best friend, I didn’t have any of those back home. Not really anyway. But you were the most important person to me for a long time.”

“Not anymore?” Terry asked. 

“You still are,” John said. “All I want is for you to be happy. And if you think that might be accomplished by making these, then you should make them.”

John held up the tiger and Terry took it back slipping it back into his pocket. 

“That’s not all I want though.” Terry said. “I want to try being with you.”

“Then, let’s try it.” John said. 

“That easy?”

“We’ve both waited quite a while for the other, so why not?”

“Will you move in with me?” Terry asked, digging through his pockets again for a key. 

John took it and laughed. “Well you don’t waste any time do you?”

“If it was legal I’d ask you to marry me,” Terry said. 

John looked at him, his smile slowly fading as he studied Terry. “You’re serious.”

“I am,” Terry said. “I want you and I don’t want to share.”

John looked at the key, then reached into his pocket to pull out a key ring, slipping the key onto it. 

“Well, I suppose I should start packing,” John said. 

“I can send people to do that,”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t go.”

“Well I don’t have any lessons tonight, or tomorrow. I can stay with you that long before I have to go to work.”

“I’ll take it.”

John smiled, leaning in, reaching for the ribbon that he'd tied in Terry's hair, kissing one of the long strands before shifting his gaze to Terry's face and smiling. He leaned in and kissed Terry.

Terry hosted Christmas that year, inviting Sid who showed up with Laura and Johnny. Kreese helped him decorate the tree and per Johnny’s request, they spent part of the night stringing popcorn onto the tree, losing about half of it to snacking.

Daniel showed up with Lucille and an old man from their apartment complex who’d gifted Daniel a car for his birthday and who was teaching him karate as self defense. Something Johnny complained about when he’d come hang out at Terry’s. Mostly because Daniel was getting good at using karate to knock Johnny over. 

“It sounds like he’s flirting. Could just be foreplay," Terry said. 

It had been something fun John and he had tried a few times in their own dojo which had led to them rolling around on the mat in passionate embrace, so he wouldn’t have been surprised if the punk nutcracker from Newark was using karate in a similar way. 

Johnny had blushed and come up with some excuse but eventually stopped complaining about it. He also started sporting more hickies. 

Daniel also wasn’t as awful as Terry originally pegged him to be. He was polite and helpful and his mom was a whiz at computer stuff. Plus she sometimes stopped by his office, seeming to completely uncare that he was CEO and would bring him so much Italian food that Terry didn’t know what to do with it all. Laura teased him that he was finally getting home cooked food and piecing together a real life. One of balance with a social life and family that loved him. 

He nearly retorted, “What family?”

But on Christmas with Johnny and Daniel, John, Laura and Lucille it did feel nice. Even with Sid mostly hiding in his office working on the phone, it was one of the nicest Christmas’s he’d had in a long time, drinking eggnog and playing music and dancing. 

“Well, what do you think?” Terry asked John who was enjoying some punch. 

“It’s nice. You really outdid yourself with the 12 days of Christmas tree,” John said motioning to the tree Terry had been working on since September with layers of moving characters for each of the 12 days of Christmas. There were 11 lords leaping their way across the tree at the moment. 

“I’m glad you like it,” Terry said. 

“Plus it’s nice to see Johnny outside of the dojo again. He’s been busy with that kid from Newark.”

“Daniel?”

“Yeah that one. He came by to pick Johnny up after class last week in that yellow abomination he drives now. Kids got a lot of guts, more than I had at that age to pick up a guy from a gym.”

“You had a lot of guts. Still do," Terry said. 

“Yeah but when you were 17 would you’ve picked up a guy and kissed him before you even left the view of the place you were studying?”

Terry let out a slow whistle. “Ballsy.”

“You know my cobras didn’t even bat an eye?”

“No?”

“I guess they already knew. And here I was on pins and needles that I’d have to give some little bastard 50 pushups for something but instead they started talking about if they knew where Johnny and Daniel were off to. Ballet again it seems. You’d think after getting stuck in a Christmas dream about the nutcracker and trapped in a different body that didn’t move they would avoid the ballet like the plague, but no, those two seem to be there all the time.”

Terry slung his arm around John’s and leaned in close. “That’s because Johnny’s mom has a membership that includes private box seats. They may like the ballet but I think they like the private dark box a lot more.”

John burst out laughing. “You’re joking.”

“Not at all. Pretty sure they’re wearing out those box seats.”

“Ah to be young.”

“Well I believe we’re currently wearing out the mat in the dojo. And my office chair. And desk. And that new couch I got.”

“The bed too,” John said “Don’t know if you noticed but it didn’t used to squeak.”

Terry smiled. “I can buy a new one.”

“Maybe after it’s fully destroyed.”

“Or it starts ruining our sleep.”

“What sleep?”

Terry laughed, feeling light and happy, and wondering for a moment how lucky he could be. Then he noticed the song change, a song he didn’t pick, that wasn’t on the tape he’d put in the machine. It was from the nutcracker and he looked at John who shrugged, and then at Daniel who bowed to Johnny and held out his hand. Watching Johnny take it, dancing closely with him. 

They looked happy, so happy and for a moment it looked like Daniel was dressed as a nutcracker again, and or a second until Terry rubbed his eyes, he could’ve sworn John was back in uniform. But when the song ended everything was the way it had been, perfectly normal, and wonderfully festive in his home. 

“We’re going to have weird dreams I bet.” John said. “Sugar plums and all that.”

“As long as we’re in it together,” Terry said. 

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”