Disclaimer: I don't own The Santa Clause 1 OR 2, okay? I just own my charas (April, Maigri and Sarah), and the plot. Not the premise, nor any of the movie charas. So don't sue me, okay Disney?

Chapter 5: Consequences of Guilt

"I don't understand, Bernard. This isn't like you." Scott looked at his Head Elf with a mixture of concern and complete disappointment.

"I know!" Bernard, who refused to look him in the eye, chewed on the edge of his thumbnail distractedly. "She...She just pushed me too far."

"But you HIT her. I've never seen you hit anyone."

"That's because I don't hit people. I have a non-violence policy." He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. A wave of guilt made him subconsciously turn further away from his employer. He realized with concern he was regressing to his "pre-Christmas" nature, that nervous, neglected slave boy that still lurked in the back of his mind. The slave boy that jumped at the slightest sound and couldn't look anyone in the eye out of shame. Shame for being something he couldn't control.

Bastard.

Funny how that one little word could bring about such a radical shift in personality of the elf. He fought the transformation as hard as he could, but couldn't totally escape it. He could feel his stress level shoot up almost to the breaking point, for confrontation of this magnitude always stressed him out. (A/N: It does me too...*sigh*)

Carole came in with a fresh batch of cookies. Almost magically, she knew exactly where the conversation had been going without her. "Then what happened?"

He threw April a poisonous glance, but she just stared at her hands. Her hair covered her eyes, shielding her from looking at him. "She called me a..."

Mr. and Mrs. Claus leaned forward expectantly.

He grumbled incoherently, covering his mouth with his hand.

"Pardon?"

Bernard wrote it on a scrap of paper and shoved it in their direction. Their eyes went wide and they glanced nervously at each other. "Oh. That explains it."

He nodded and exhaled loudly. Keep it under control. Breathe. Breathe.

Scott tossed the scrap back onto his desk. "But that doesn't excuse what you did. You still must set her free."

"Fine." He dug around in his bag and produced a silver skeleton key. He handed it to Santa, who gently took April's Enforcer. April rubbed her wrist, but still kept her eyes on the ground. She looked vacant.

"Come on, honey," Carole helped April out of the chair and directed her to the door. "I'll show you where you'll be staying for a while. I think you'll like it."

After the door clicked shut, Santa spoke to Bernard in a hushed voice. "Now, according to the Handbook, you have one month to find her an apartment of her own, and a job. Can you do that?"

"I guess I must." He picked up the statue Scott had been using as a paper weight and studied it with great interest. "I'm not going to loose my job for this, am I?"

"No. If it had been anyone but you, yes, but you're too valuable to replace. And there is no way in holiday I'm giving that jerk Maigri the Head Elf position." They both chuckled half-heartedly. Scott took back his paper weight and sighed. "Just don't do it again."

"Yes, sir."

The fog swirled around, taking him back to a grisly chapter in his past. The past he never told anyone about.

They pulled him out of the lake, limp and pale, but alive. Bernard leaned on the willow next to the shore and stared at his feet. There had been nothing he could have done to save him. Yet, his half brother was his responsibility, his sole reason for existing. There would be a beating for this for sure, but he deserved it. He'd failed.

A hand caught hold of his arm and whirled him around, snapping him out of his thoughts. His so-called father's eyes bulged, bloodshot with anger. He shook Bernard violently. "You stupid boy, you were right there and did nothing."

"I-I cannot swim, I would have drowned as well."

"Better you than him, half-breed." The man tossed him to the ground and kicked him hard in the ribs. "I always suspected you had it in for Dairn, but this proves it. You were trying to kill him!"

"No! He's my brother, and I love him." Bernard sat up painfully.

He spit. "You're a lying, half human bastard, and I refuse to let you live in my house anymore. First thing in the morning, I'm taking you to market."

"What? Father, please, forgive me! I- Don't sell me. Anything but that." The young elf held out his hands wearily. "Forgive me. Father..."

"I am not your father any more than you are my son. By this time tomorrow, you will be out of all our lives forever. Now, come on." He roughly yanked Bernard to his feet and dragged him quickly along the path back to the house. "You'll sleep in the shed tonight. And no dinner."

His father opened the door and tossed him inside. Bernard scrambled to his feet and pounded on the door. He couldn't hide his panic anymore. "Don't, Father! Please, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry!"

Click. Locked.

He stumbled back from the door, terror filling his eyes. In the morning, he would be sold as a common slave. Not even his mother would be able to change her husband's decision now. That is, if she even tried. Slavery had been his biggest fear, and the very next day it would become a living nightmare. He would rather die, than- Suddenly, he remembered the knife he "borrowed" from the kitchen, stored away in his stocking. He pulled it out and stared at it, knowing the decision to use it would be the last thing he would ever do. He couldn't spend the rest of his life as a slave. He just couldn't. Death would bring him peace, at least. That calm nothingness he always ached for.

He lowered the blade to that little throbbing vein on his wrist and pulled sharply...

*Gasp* His eyes popped open. He lay safe in his bed, tangled in the covers.

"A dream. It was just a dream." Bernard sat up and his heart skipped a beat. A deathly pale elf about Curtis's age with unruly dark hair and tattered clothes stared unblinking at him from the foot of his bed. He noticed with horror the boy's slit wrists. The open wounds did not bleed; this elf had most certainly deceased. The whites of his eyes glowed unnaturally in the darkness. Bernard drew his quilt closer to his chin subconsciously and choked out, "W-who are you?"

"You know very well who I am, Bernard," the boy responded in a hollow, monotone voice.

His blood ran cold. "You're me, aren't you?"

"I am the ghost of who you once were!" The boy leapt onto the bed and crouched there like a gargoyle. He pointed, declaring menacingly, "You are a monster, just like your father."

"No," Bernard croaked, shrinking back. "I'm nothing like him!"

The ghost's eyes narrowed. "What happened to your vow never to strike another in anger?"

"I...I..." He looked away, too ashamed to answer.

It stood over him. "In breaking that vow and hitting the innocent girl, you've become the very man you hate most. Just admit it; you LIKED having that power over her."

"No," he moaned, covering his ears. "I-I didn't!"

The spirit raised its voice. "Did you really hate her that much?"

He looked it in the eye, suddenly feeling angry at its accusation. "I don't hate her. I never did."

"LIAR!" It thrust the damaged wrists under his nose and shook them with every word. "Do you see these?"

He nodded violently, adrenaline surging through his system.

"In that instance YOU KILLED ME. You killed everything you once stood for, everything you should have been. Slavery? Violence? Weren't those things you would have once died to oppose? So you see, you're truly dead to me now. And I you."

"But-" He turned away, not wanting to look at the ugly cuts any more. His stomach churned, hitting him with a wave of nausea.

"Your physical wounds have healed, but the emotional ones never will. And neither will hers, thanks to you." It once again stood up and back off the edge of the bed, his actions like a tape in rewind. "You shall not sleep until you have her forgiveness. Understand?"

He squeezed his eyes shut and whispered softly, painfully, "Yes."

The vision faded away, leaving him sitting up in bed, without being aware of the actual transition from sleeping to waking. In his mind at least, he'd been awake the whole time. After about a minute of staring where the ghost had been, he snapped out of his trance and looked around. He flipped on the light and called out weakly, "Sarah?"

She came in, rubbing her eyes. "Yes, Bernard? Are you okay?"

He peeled back the covers and rolled out of bed, feeling strangely numb after the encounter. He grabbed a bathrobe and hastily threw it over his silk pajamas, then cleared his throat. "Yeah, I'm going to go out for a while. I don't know when I'll be back, so don't wait for me."

"Um, all right..." She went to the closet and pulled out one of his velvet shirts, covered in gold swirly patterns. Then she stopped. "Did you have another nightmare?"

He ran a hand through his matted hair and looked through her with hollow eyes. "Yes, but that's not why I'm going out."

"Might I ask why?"

"Let's just say, I'm haunted by my actions." He shrugged calmly and started toward the bathroom with the intent to take a scalding shower. He stopped in the doorway and turned slowly toward the human child. "You know what...?"

"What, Bernard?"

He grabbed the key from bedside table and before Sarah could even register what was happening, took the Enforcer from around her wrist. "There. You're free. Go...Go be with your boyfriend in Packaging. I hope you have a wonderful life together."

He then started off again, leaving her there with her mouth open in total disbelief. She blinked a couple times and ran after him, waving her arms wildly. "Wait! I don't want to go!"

"What?" He looked at her as though she were diseased.

"I said I don't want to go. I like working for you!"

This was news. "Why?"

"You never treated me badly. Unlike...Oh, say Maigri, who goes through a new slave a week, practically. I thank you for that. But I've known nothing but this job for the past three hundred years. So please, let me stay."

He stared at a landscape painting (of his "homeland", somewhere in Canada) on the wall for a so long, she started to wonder if he'd heard her. Finally he turned back to her. "You can stay, but I'll pay you for your work. And you can see André any time you want."

"Oh, thank you, Bernard! Thank you soooooo much!" She flung her arms around his neck and gave him a huge bear hug.

He winced uncomfortably and patted her on the back. "You're welcome, Sarah. You're welcome."

"I shouldn't have provoked him." April sipped her cocoa and looked timidly at Carole. "He just made me so angry! He wouldn't let Sarah see her boyfriend, just because she's human and he's elf. I mean, Bernard is prejudiced!"

"Really? I didn't think he was like that."

"I didn't think he would hit me. I...It was almost like we were flirting, instead of fighting. But not this time." Tears threatened to spill over her eyes. "I...I liked him. I didn't mean to make him so mad, honestly I didn't!"

Carole lightly touched the girl's arm. "Shh, it's okay. Everything will work out, just give it time."

"Will it? I don't think it will! It's been three days and I feel exactly the same!" April finally broke down in great sobs. "I'll never be able to look him in the eye again!"

"Oh, no...April don't do this to yourself! It's not your fault." Carole pulled her into a hug and stroked her hair. "Don't blame yourself."

"But it IS my fault! It's all my fault!" She clung to the older woman as though she were her own mother. "If only I hadn't insulted him like that... Oh, Lord, why did I hafta be so stupid?"

"Oh, honey, you are not stupid. Listen to me, you stood up for what you believed in, and for that you are one of the strongest, bravest people I have ever met."

"Really?" She wiped her eyes and sniffed. "I don't feel strong."

"Of course you don't now. But I'm sure in a month you'll have your job, and your apartment, and you'll never need to see Bernard again."

She blew her nose and grimaced. "But...I...I sorta want to see him again...Am I like those women who keep going back to their boyfriends, even though they abuse them?"

This threw Carole off completely. She blinked and stuttered, searching desperately for the right words to answer that sensitive question. "Well, no-"

There came a knock at the door. She apologized and got up to answer it. "Oh, Bernard. Hello."

He looked near hysterical, like he hadn't slept in days. He stared at Mrs. Claus with wide, bloodshot eyes, and she noticed he was shaking severely. He looked as though he would snap any moment. "Yeah, hi. May I speak to A-April?"

She placed her self defensively between the two. "Why, might I ask?"

"I, Ur... well..." He fidgeted with the edge of his shirt and looked wearily in April's direction. "I found her an apartment, and I want to show it to her."

"I really don't think I should leave you two alone together."

He leaned on the frame of the doorway weakly, all too aware of what that incident had done to his reputation. He'd heard the elves whispering about it everywhere he went. He seemed to deflate a little, the edginess easing out of his tired voice. "Come on. I won't hit her, if that's what you're thinking. I know if it ever happens again, I'll loose my job."

Carole studied his face a long time before permitting him to take April away. "Fine. That is, if it's okay with April."

April got up without another word and followed him out the door, that vacant look once again crossing her face.

"Be careful." Mrs. Claus watched them until they were out of sight around the corner. She shut the door. "Take care of yourself, April."

In the elevator, she turned away from him. He wanted so dearly to apologize and put his arms around her, but he knew better. She was still too fragile. Holiday, he was still too fragile too, only having had four hours of fitful sleep since the incident happened. The ghost had been right; he couldn't sleep until he had her forgiveness. As the elevator settled, the room spun dangerously and he gripped the railing to keep from toppling over.

They walked into the street, ignoring the constant stares and whispers. April hovered nervously near him, afraid to get closer yet needing to escape the watchful eyes all around them. He took a hold of her arm gently, feeling that same desire to protect her. She yanked it away forcefully.

"Sorry."

"Whatever."

Dizziness swept over him again, causing him to sway slightly on his feet. "Uh, we're almost there, it's...Um, down this street. I think." Funny, he suddenly didn't know where he was anymore. And he knew Elfsburg better than most. Good thing he'd written down the directions. He pulled them out of his bag and squinted at them, but the writing looked really fuzzy.

She looked at him with concern, but said nothing.

"This way." He waved finally. They came to a squat; humble building marked 'Elfsburg Suites'. He took out a key and opened door number three for her.

She gasped at the sight. The walls were sky blue, the trimmings silver and soft purple, from the velvety furniture down to the candle holders and the tassels on the curtains. A fire burned in the fireplace in the corner and a silver tabby kitten slept blissfully on the couch. Her resentment evaporated. "Oh, Bernard, it's all so beautiful!"

He smiled. It felt so good to see her happy again. But then again, had he really ever seen her happy?

He chuckled as she ran to the kitchen and examined one of the crystal glasses. "Do you like it?"

She hastily stuck it away in its proper place and ran back to him. "I love it! You didn't hafta do this for me!"

"Well, actually I did. I just didn't need to go so elaborate." He leaned on the coffee table as non-chalantly as he could, given the fact that he felt like he would keel over any minute.

Her happiness stepped aside for nervousness. "Are you okay? You've been acting really funny."

"I..." He took a deep breath and blurted without thinking. "APRIL, PLEASE FORGIVE ME. I didn't mean to hurt you, you must believe me. Is there anything, ANYTHING I can do to make this up to you?"

She looked into his distressed eyes and simply knew he was being deadly honest with her. Literally. "No. There isn't."

He groaned and collapsed into a chair, at the end of his limit. He buried his face in his hands. "I knew it. I blew it."

She pulled up another chair and sat in front of him. She gently pried his hands away so she could look directly at him. "There isn't, because I've already forgiven you. And not because of this, either."

He blinked. It couldn't have been that easy. It just couldn't. "Seriously?"

She nodded. "But the question is, can you forgive me?"

"What did you do?"

"Oh, let's see, I was a righteous know-it-all and an overall brat. I insulted you when it was totally uncalled for."

He shook his head forcefully. "No, you didn't know I would react like that. I didn't even know I would react like that. It's just..." He licked his parched lips. "I'm going to tell you something I haven't told anyone here, okay?"

"Sure. I won't tell."

He picked imaginary fuzz off of the velvet chair, and avoided her gaze. "I am a bastard, in the literal sense of the word. My mother had an affair with a...foreigner...which resulted in my existence. My father, that is her husband, treated me like an intruder in household, just because of that single fact. Even though I couldn't do anything about it."

She sat back, stunned. "I had no idea. Oh, now I feel really bad! That's awful!"

"But you had no idea that word made me so sensitive. Nobody knows. I don't talk about my past for many reasons."

She could sense more bothered him than he willingly told her, but she didn't press the subject. "Well, I'm really sorry. I truly am, Bernard."

"Don't worry about it." He stood up and fell back into the seat, suddenly too weak to get up. "Oh, boy. This is not good."

She stared accusingly at him for thirty seconds before asking, "When was the last time you ate something?"

He thought for a moment, but drew a blank. "You know, I don't remember. Couple days ago, I guess."

She smacked her forehead and jumped up. "BERNARD! You can't do that! Ya gotta eat!" He tried to stand up again, but she shoved him back into the chair. "Stay there! I'm going to make you some cookies and hot chocolate!"

She rummaged through the cabinets (which were completely stocked) and mumbled to herself about Bernard's stupidity for not eating. After several minutes when the smell of baking cookies floated to him, she returned with a large mug of steaming cocoa.

He accepted it gratefully. "Thanks."

She still looked cross. "You should take better care of yourself. Half my family members are diabetics, so I know a thing or two about low blood sugar. You could have really hurt yourself. And for that matter, when was the last time you've had a decent night's sleep?"

He took a deep gulp of cocoa, and it warmed him all the way down to his toes. "Not since before...You know..."

"Oh." She twitched. "Can we pretend that that never happened?"

"No, but we can vow never to let that happen again." He smiled half-heartedly, still ashamed.

She held out her hand. "Friends, then?"

"Friends." He gave her a firm handshake. And so they decided to start anew with each other. Just like that. He took another, rather loud sip of cocoa during the uneasy silence that followed. "Say, this is really good. Was it instant?"

"Nope."

He stared thoughtfully into his mug. "I think know where I can probably find you a job."

She pointed angrily at him, eyes flashing with concern. "You're not going anywhere until you've eaten and taken a nap!" She poked his knee to emphasize her point.

*Boink* "Okay...Don't get so aggressive with me! I give, I give!" He held up his hands in mock surrender. She grabbed a magazine from the newspaper rack, rolled it up, and used it to smack him playfully on the shoulder.

Who would have thought that a little over three days ago, she had been his slave? The idea seemed a bit silly now. And yet, the "incident" would never truly leave them completely. Good thing, too, otherwise it might happen again. You know what they say about history...

A/N: Corny ending, huh? The boink is my personal reaction to being poked, just so you know. I just wanna say that, yes; April did forgive him really easily. He had worried himself to the point of collapse! Boy, his conscience is REALLY violent! Oh, well, at least all is good again...OR IS IT? *Cue evil cackling here.*


Chapter 6
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