"How much longer until-" "Sh! We're nearly there!" Cass stumbled over a tree root and felt Ichabod steady them, boney fingers closing around their wrists gently, unnaturally warm against the cold. "I don't see why you needed to blindfold me, why can't you just trust me to keep my eyes closed?" Ichabod steered them, splaying a hand over their lower back. "Pageantry, poppet." Cass chuckled. "Sure, Ichy. And not because you want to see me blindfolded with your hands around my wrists." He sputtered. "I- Cass, I can assure you that-" the ghost laughed. "I know, Ichy. I'm only teasing you." "I- I hope you know I'd never...ill use you, in that way. Not ever." Ichabod's misplaced sincerity was a pill that Cass always had difficulty swallowing. "I know that Ichy, don't worry." There was the sound of a door opening and a rush of cool air. "Cass, I'll need you to trust me for this part. It's going to feel like you're falling but I'll have you. You won't get hurt." "I can't get hurt, or at least I can't feel it." They hesitated. "Could you hold my hand, Ichy?"
The fall was longer than they'd expected, icy air seeming to ignore Cass's meager coat as they tumbled, meeting Ichabod's hand and then losing it again. For a brief and terrible moment, Cass feared that this had been some sort of trap, until they fell into something soft and cold and utterly foreign, and felt Ichabod lifting them from whatever they had fallen into. "Oh dear me! Cass, are you alright?" Cass grunted. "I'll be better once I can see. Ichy, you know I'm not crazy about the cold." Ichabod chuckled kindly, placing a hand on the side of the corpse's face that Cass struggled to not lean into as he untied the length of black crepe fabric around their head. The first thing that came into view was Ichabod, and then, stars. They were now somewhere completely alien to Cass. A sky full of stars, and below, an evergreen forest, fully decorated, glowing with lights and baubles Cass knew had no electric explanation. And below that, snow. White and feathery and deep. Cass had seen it in movies, in books, in Christmas cards, sure. But never in person. It didn't snow in the netherworld, and Lydia kept the shades drawn when they visited the surface. They stood, mouth agape, turning around and taking in every detail. They were on a hill, and below, a village sparkled with light and singing. "Breathe in. Through your nose. I know it's pointless as you don't need it, but you can still smell, right?" Cass nodded dumbly, taking in air so cold it made them want to cough. Air that smelled like cinnamon and clove and mint, like warm sweets and woodsmoke. Air that stirred the lungs they hadn't ever truly used. Cass wondered if this was what breathing was like for the living. "Ichy...where are we?" Ichabod pointed to a banner in the town below. "Christmastown! I know it's a bit too late, but you were at your father's for the holiday and- well, you'd mentioned never seeing snow before, so I thought-" Cass smiled up at him. "Ichy...this is insane, it's gorgeous. I-" Cass's brow furrowed. "This is an insane violation of multiple clauses when it comes to separation of secular and religion based holidays, though. I'm no suckup but this is beyond smoking pot behind the seven-eleven or chatting up the living-" Ichabod placed two hands on Cass's shoulders. "Don't fret about that, poppet. My father's on good terms with Mr. Claus." Cass stared at him incredulously. "It's true! You're a caseworker for supernatural citizens, I'm sure you've read all about the dark Christmas of 82'?" Cass nodded. "Yeah. Gifts with supernatural properties unleashed on the living world, a Santa imposter, there were like, 3 police fatalities, right?" Ichabod grimaced. "Yeah...my dad was behind that. He got tired of Halloween one year and so he decided to give Santa a vacation. The road to hell is paved with good intentions and all that. However, after the whole mess was cleaned up, Mr. Claus was indebted to my father because he saved his life, and because no children were harmed, he couldn't be too upset. Since then, my family has had access to Christmas town, to visit, as long as we don't disturb the residents or replace anything. In fact, we've grown quite close with the Claus's. I told them I wanted to bring you so that you could see the snow, and they told me to tell you you're a chronic member of the nice list." He winked at Cass, the light in his socket flickering. "So, what do you think?" Cass tried to swallow away the lump in their throat, but it stuck, clinging to their inside like a scarab beetle. "Oh, Ichy-" their voice broke, and they grabbed on to the skeletons coat, tears falling for the first time in months. "Oh no, I something wrong? Is it too much?" Cass laughed. "Ichy it's perfect! You're so damn nice to me and I don't know how to behave. Thank you, this is incredible." From below, the clock began to chime, the passing of time taking a rhythm. Twelve chimes. "This year's going to be better for you, Cass. I'll see to it, I promise." Cass clung to him as he wrapped long arms around them. The sharp jut of his chin resting on the specter's head. The bells broke into cacophony, and in them Cass heard "it already is, it is, it is, I love you, I love you, I love you" But Cass didn't tell him that. "Happy new year, Ichabod."
