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rom-e-o · 11 months

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“Journey to the Past” - Ebenezer/OC

On one otherwise uneventful night, Ebenezer Scrooge is again whisked away from his bed. This time, he’s given a glimpse of his fiancée's past. Specifically, her wedding day with her ex-husband.

Rating: 16+ (mentions of physical and mental abuse, self-harm and assault - all done by a third party)

Fic below the cut! So, allons-y!

He wasn’t sure what spurred it on. Was it the intervention of Jacob Marley, or was something more cosmic at play?

Ebenezer Scrooge was at a loss.

All he knew was, a few hours before, he’d gone to sleep with his loving wife tucked safely in his side.

Now, he was standing in some kind of…chapel? A church? It was a building he didn’t recognize, that was about the only thing the man was sure of.

As the image coalesced more around him, he made out other details that only enhanced his confusion. For example, the seats of the hall were packed with people, all with unfamiliar faces. Their voices also pulled his attention, their accents distinctly foreign. Specifically, American.

“W-Where am…”

“Ah, we meet again, Scrooge.”

That voice. It was so distinct in cadence that he could never have forgotten it, even if he tried. He knew the identity behind it before he even saw the flicker of light that giant flame atop her wax-modeled body cast.

“You…” he started, turning to face the familiar face of the Ghost of Christmas past, still wearing the smirking form of Lottie Milligan from the Christmas Extravaganza flyers that had long since become outdated in his home realm.

He glanced down, noting that he was in his sleepwear and (thankfully) the green silk dressing gown he usually wore when moving about the house late in the evening. It was the same ensemble he’d worn when the spirit had last visited him on that fateful Christmas Eve many years ago.

“Did you miss me?” the Ghost of Christmas Past inquired, her tone as chipper as ever. “Well, I should hope not. Our last meeting wasn’t exactly whimsical for you, was it?”

Just as he opened his mouth to speak, he silenced him with a finger to the lips. “Before you ask, no, you’re not being visited because of anything you’ve done wrong. Fear not! You are not in any danger of any nightmarish vision, painful memories or an eternity of potential damnation. Not today, good man, so rest easy!”

When she pulled her finger away, a blend of confusion and panic bloomed on his face. “T-Then, why have you visited me, and…where are we?”

“In the past!” she answered with her usual flair, even adding a little giggle at the end. “Obviously. I thought you got the memo the first time.”

He found the cheekiness even less cute than he had before.

“Certainly not my past,” he refuted, glancing around again at the unfamiliar chamber. Towering white walls, vases of lilies decorating the aisles, the faint thrum of organ music…none of this was familiar in any sense.

“No, not yours, but the past of someone you hold dear,” she explained.

“Who do you—”

A timid voice called his attention from the talking waxwork.

“E-Ebenezer?”

Standing a few feet away from him was his fiancée. Disoriented and woozy on her slippered feet, but his fiancée most definitely. He’d know her anywhere, and from any angle.

Constance, dressed in a flowing gown of white silk with a cobalt velvet sleeping jacket synched tightly around her frame, stared back at him with confused eyes. Her long, coppery hair flowed freely down her shoulders and back, unbounding ribbons or ties. “W-What is…Where are…”

Goodness, she was terrified.

Ebenezer ran to her and pulled her into a tight embrace, seeing the fear in her eyes and longing to assuage it as soon as possible. The tight hug seemed to help, as he felt her exhale and wrap her arms about him shakily.

“You’re okay,” he promised, his voice husky with emotion as he stared down into her wide eyes. “I’m here with you, okay? All is well, darling.”

“A-All is not well! What is happening?”

She continued to stare up at him, looking around occasionally to take in glances of their environment. After doing so, something about the setting spooked her to the point that she buried her face into Ebenezer’s chest.

“Constance?” he asked, hands smoothing her hair, trying to provide her with any sense of comfort he could.

“No, I can’t be here,” she whispered against the lapel of his robe, her breath hot and frantic upon his collar. “H-How do we leave?”

“Now, now, pet, it’s only a vision!” Past spoke up from afar. “A memory come to life. A dream. Nobody can hear or see you here, darling. We’re perfectly safe – meager spectators!”

He turned to glare at the spirit, his brown furrowed and mouth set in a tight line.

“Why have you brought us here in the first place? Why her?”

His arms tightened around her protectively.

“Oh, don’t panic, Scrooge,” Past said with a roll of the eyes. She approached the fearful woman, gently shoving Ebenezer from her embrace. “Off with you.”

“H-Hey!”

Softly, Past reached up and took Constance’s cheeks in her hands, cupping them softly. “My, my. So, this is your fiancée, hm? Curled hair, freckles, blue eyes…I say, you have a type, don’t you?”

Scrooge went red in the face, but Constance let out a puff of laughter.

“Let me guess,” she piped up, her fingertips rubbing the surface of the ghost’s hand experimentally, noting that her ‘skin’ had the exact texture of candle wax. “Isabel?”

“Ah, so you know about Lady No. 1,” Past teased, which only caused Ebenezer to huff and clear his throat loudly. “Marvelous! Would have been an awkward little rendezvous otherwise, hm?”

“Could you not—”

“My, you…really are…made of wax!” Constance observed, taking the ghost’s hand in hers and admiring it like the arm of a statue. “That’s incredible! But…impossible. Am I dreaming all this? I must be, right?”

Conveniently avoiding the question, Past smiled and twined their fingers, pulling Constance forward a few steps. The redhead followed clumsily, stumbling along the way. Thankfully, Scrooge was on her heels to help support her.

“Scrooge, you said this wasn’t your past, and you are correct!” Past said, sweeping her arm across the room. The action sent a wave of shimmering magic throughout the space. The floor became almost mercurial beneath the couple as the building around them seemed to populate with more and more details. The bundles of lilies sprouted ribbons, the individuals in the seats became to soften their voice. Somewhere in the distance, there was even the toll of a church bell, loud and crisp as cannon fire.

“T-Then whose—”

“It’s mine.”

He looked over to see Constance staring around the chapel, her chest heaving as she took deep breaths to calm herself.

With great effort, she shut her eyes and brought her hands to her chest, fingers clasped so tight that her knuckles turned the shade of baby powder. “We’re at East 10th and lower Broadway in Manhattan, aren’t we? Grace Church. This is…that church I was first married in.”

She turned to Ebenezer slowly. “Married to Orin.”

In a flash, the entire room seemed to spring to life before them. Vague shapes became newly crisp, warbling sound synthesized, and…two figures materialized at the altar.

A man and woman in white. One with inky hair and a diamond-cut face, and another with strawberry-blonde curls and a flush that couldn’t be dulled even by the cold, ivory shade of her gown.

Constance, age twenty. Orin, age twenty-two. Gods, they looked like children. So young. They held hands before the crowd, staring at each other with matching smiles.

Behind them, a deacon dressed in cords and cascading layers of traditional garb began to speak before the bustling room.

“Dearly beloved,” he began, his voice a reverberating tenor in the room. “We are gathered here today…”

Scrooge lurched forward and grabbed Past by the shoulder, forcing the spirit to face him. “Why are you showing this to us? To her? Do you not know how that damned, devil of a man treated her?”

The ghost turned a patient gaze upon the anger-filled man. “Now, now. Just because they can’t hear you doesn’t mean that you should shout!”

“The hell I won’t,” he said, voice dropping to a growl as he bent his head to meet her gaze. “Answer me! Why are we here?”

The ghost waited a beat before answering, peeling his fingers off her shoulder one by one.

“W-Were you also sent by—”

“Not this time,” she said. “Your old friend has nothing to do with this visit, old boy. No, this is merely a…follow-up, let’s say, to our last discussion. After all, you never got to experience a wedding in your past, did you? Blew that opportunity right out of the water.”

Scrooge huffed in guilt.

“Well, if all goes well, you will finally experience one in your future,” she said.

“Yes,” he replied, his tone almost stubborn. “This summer. August ninth.”

“Ah, it’s coming up! So, we probably both agree that it’s better if travesties from both your pasts don’t repeat themselves.”

That answer didn’t provide any of the clarity Scrooge sought. Huffing again, he wagged a finger at the spirit, his voice tolerance quickly waning.

“Now, look here—!”

His sentence was cut off by Constance’s voice rising above the hum of the crowd.

Not his fiancée’s, but the one belonging to her past self. A younger, but no less radiant, version of the woman he loved most ardently.

She looked so soft standing there in front of the tall, more hard-edged gentleman that she was about to become betrothed to. Meanwhile, Orin gazed upon her with an expression that Ebenezer struggled to read. He looked…composed. If he didn’t know anything about the abusive bastard the man was, hell, he might have even called him elegant.

“I remember this part…” his Constance said, her voice sounding deflated as she stared at the duo before them. “Our wedding vows.”

Past nudged the man with her elbow. “Perhaps you should be supporting her rather than giving me an earful, hm?”

He couldn’t even be offended. Scrooge went to Constance’s side immediately, hands upon her shoulders as she watched the memory play out before them.

“Orin, you’re everything I ever thought I couldn’t have in a husband,” the young bride began, “Tall, dark, very handsome. Like a knight from a storybook.”

Constance lurched in Ebenezer’s arms, screwing her eyes shut to try and block out the words.

Ebenezer knew how awful it was to face memories, especially the less glamourous ones. All he could do was hold her and squeeze her hand. “You’re okay, dear.”

She nodded, sinking further into Ebenezer’s body, as if she was trying to convince herself over and over that he was truly there with her.

The bride continued, “I don’t know how I managed to get so lucky. I know I’m eccentric and a bit of a talker, but…you accept those things about me. Not only do you accept them, but you love them! You make me feel so special and loved, even when others would turn and sneer.”

Orin smiled back at her and kissed her gloved hand gently.

“I love you, Orin, and I promise I’ll love you for the rest of our days together. No matter what challenges come our way, I’ll overcome them all! I’ll strive to make you happy.”

Seeing that his bride was crying, the groom produced a handkerchief and dabbed away her tears. Hearing the adoring coo of the distant, mercurial audience shifting in and out of perspective just beyond the altar only made him hold onto Constance tighter.

Once she had signaled with a nod that she was finished speaking, Orin cleared his throat and took her gloved hands in his, smooth fingertips finding delicate purchase in her satiny palms.

“I longed to discover a love like ours my whole life,” he began tenderly. “I never dreamed such a union could be mine, until the day that you accepted my request to court you. From there, my life became hurricane of surprises and laughter that I never anticipated….I never know what to expect for you, but that’s part of the fun.”

Scrooge’s brow pinched at the declaration. “The smarmy, disgusting, loathsome little…”

“He can’t hear you!” the ethereal candlestick reminded her irritated friend. He growled nonetheless, unable to contain the hatred he felt for the man.

The man before him, someone who looked like an Adonis of handsomeness, had been the reason Constance had left America.

The reason she’d lost a child.

The reason she’d almost taken her own life. The reason for the jagged scars that decorated her legs and wrists.

Now, to watch him cradle her face in his hands and whisper poetic words to her like some lovestruck prince, it made him almost physically ill. Yet, as horrible as he felt, he couldn’t even imagine what was going through the head.

“Constance, are you…?”

“I’m, um…” she started, her voice already weak despite haven spoken only a few words. Then, after a moment, she hastily moved a hand over her eyes, as if to wipe something away. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t need to—”

“It’s all in the past, after all!” she rushed to say, adding a laugh at the end to soften the abruptness. “W-What’s done is done. I can’t go back. Right?”

Scrooge sighed. He couldn’t argue with that logic.

Meanwhile, the illusionary couple before them continued on with the ceremony as planned. After wiping the bride’s tears, the groom continued to speak, pausing only a moment to slide a ring upon her finger. “With this ring, I swear my love to you.”

“Oh, Orin…”

Constance watched on, memories of the happiness she’d felt on her wedding day flooding back to her with each flicker of emotion across her twin’s face. The happiness had been so sweet, but so fleeting. On that day, their love had burned as brightly as the sun.

“As long as I live, my dear, you’ll never be alone. I’ll always be with you.”

After the vows concluded, the couple rejoined hands and waited for the end of the ceremony. The man in robes who stood between them nodded in recognition before addressing the rest of the crowd, likely asking if there was anyone in the audience that resented the union happening before them.

What Scrooge would have given to be in that audience. His younger self wouldn’t have had the guts to storm the altar, but now? He would have walked up there in his bloody dressing gown, taken her hand, and begged her to reconsider. Sod the humiliation and stares, he would have done anything if it would have possibly spared her the decades of torture she lived under Orin’s blood-caked thumb.

The rest of the priest’s words faded away after that statement. That last instruction seemed to echo through the space around him, the rest of the cathedral seeming to fall away piece by piece into a galactic abyss of colors.

Moments later, even the robed figure leading the ceremony had faded away. This left only the bride and groom. Drifting ever closer, she watched as Orin lifted her veil and pressed his lips to hers. Their first kiss as man and wife.

She heard her former self sigh in bliss, then giggle as he lifted her above his head and twirled her about, her white skirts swooshing around the ankles of her heeled shoes, her whole body moving almost effortlessly as he guided her back down to the safety of his arms, claiming her mouth again in a kiss that was so passionate that both Constance and Ebenezer blushed, although for entirely different reasons.

“Oooh, very nice!” Past cheered, clapping gaily as the last remnants of the happy memory faded into glittery dust. “Well, you’ve got quite the show to live up to, Scroogey-boy.”

He barely heard a word that the specter said, as his focus remained solely on Constance. She’d gone still and silent beside him, her head low but her shoulders steady.

Ebenezer rubbed his large hands up and down her shoulders, trying to provide some comfort in a way he knew words could not provide. This was not a situation where sentiments would suffice. After all, he was practically inconsolable after he’d lost Isabel. In that instance, she’d left him, and they’d both gone on to live their lives. She’d even prospered as a young woman, becoming a happy wife and mother to three children.

He couldn’t imagine living with someone, loving someone for nearly 20 years, all for it to mean nothing.

When she did dare to speak, her voice was stronger than one might have given her credit for.

“You know…for as horrible of a man as he ended up being, he did still give me a wonderful wedding,” she said. “Anything I asked for, he obliged willingly. It was really, really wonderful. For one day, our marriage felt beautifully real.”

Her eyed fluttered shut, and ghosts of tears rolled down her cheeks, outlining the slopes of her face with the trails of silvery, shooting stars.

“Ebenezer?”

He was before her in heartbeat, taking her hands into his. Twining their fingers, she squeezed them gingerly. Maker, she was freezing.

“Yes?”

Despite the memory she’d just confronted, she stared up at him with a smile. Her eyes radiated kindness, her cheeks flushed with life.

“I want our wedding to be perfect,” she whispered, breaking one hand free to stroke his face. “Actually perfect, not just an illusion.”

“Of course!” he agreed eagerly, his heart screaming the phrase even louder than his voice. “Anything you want.”

“I don’t want much,” she assured.

“What do you want?” he asked, lowering his head to meet her eyes. “I’ll find anything. I’ll give you anything you desire, Connie.”

She giggled, not in mockery, but in glee. “I don’t need flowers, a church, or even a dress or ring. I had all that, and it was lovely, but…I want the wedding you want.”

He blinked. “The one I want?”

“Yes,” she whispered. “Because I had a wedding. Everything I shared with Orin…is in the past. I don’t want it back, and never will. I want to create brand new memories with you, Ebenezer.”

He choked back his shock, but the widening of his eyes still beckoned silent tears forth. “You’re too good to me.”

“You started it,” she teased, sniffling at her own tears threatened to rush forth. “Ohhh, don’t cry! I’ll cry too.”

He laughed and rubbed his eyes with his sleeve before hastily reconnecting their gazes. Eyes never faltering, he lowered himself onto one knee before her, staring up at her like the goddess he prized her as. “No. It’s not my wedding, Constance. It’s ours.”

She nodded and whimpered out a sound of agreement.

“I…don’t want much either,” he said.

“You must want something.”

“Someone,” he corrected, “Just you, Connie.”

Her lake-colored eyes practically glowed from their ethereal surroundings reflecting in them so perfectly.

“You don’t mean that,” she said, although even her tone was doubtful.

“Bloody hell, we’ll get married under a bridge for all I care. I want you. I want my ring on your finger, and I want us declared man and wife, and I want your name on every official document that crosses my desk.”

“Really—”

He continued to speak in a frantic haze, “I want your picture on my desk. I want your nightclothes in my wardrobe. Your perfume in my washroom. Your body next to mine, every night and every morning. Your children. If you’ll have them. If you’ll have me.”

Pearly tears hit his hands like raindrops from above. “Gods, Ebenezer…”

“That’s all I want, Constance,” he swore, pressing her hand to his robe-covered chest. His heart thundered beneath her fingers as proudly as a stallion’s. “The wedding is one day. I want you forever.”

The floodgates broke as she fell into his arms. He caught her and brought their teary faces together in a breathless kiss. Collapsing fully, Ebenezer used the leverage of his one elevated knee to support them as their kiss continued, his arms around her waist to rock her gently.

After what felt like the fastest eternity possible, they pulled away…and found themselves back in their bedroom. Back in the real world, in London, a sheet of stars glittering like pinholes amidst a cloudless swatch of navy night sky.

Neither of them had felt the floor fall beneath them or heard the magic of their fantasy dissolving around them. There was no thunder, lightning, fore or brimstone. No shadowy reapers or rattling chains.

Only the familiar smell of their washed bedroom linens and the sound of crickets, chirping a symphony in the city’s lamplit parks and ponds, greeted them once the trance broke.

The shock of returning to the real world hit them quickly, and they bounced out of each other’s embrace before scrambling back to each other.

“W-What…we’re…back?” Constance asked incredulously, turning to Ebenezer in disbelief.

The man, still stunned, nodded somewhat breathlessly. “I suppose so.”

A beat of silence passed before both rushed back into each other’s arms, squeezing the other for dear life.

“D-Did you really mean it all?” he asked, her voice slightly muffled by the silk of his robe.

“Every word,” he husked, turning his head to dot kisses along her wet cheek. “Every word. I’ll swear it again on our wedding day, and every day until then, and every day after that.”

Constance swooned before pulling him into another kiss, which he allowed himself to be pulled into with great vigor.

It took many more kisses before they were back in bed. Then many more kisses, gasps, moans and cries of bliss until both were in any shape for decent conversation again.

Hours later, as both laid nude and tangled in the bedsheets, the glow of a warm sunrise bathed their joined bodies in a heavenly aura.

As Constance traced her fingertips up and down the outlines of her lover’s furred chest, she paused and flattered her palm against his warm skin. It roamed a bit, shifting a few inches to the left and right, until it finally found what it sought; his heart.

Sure enough, it pounded resolutely beneath her fingertips, and she knew.

It hadn’t been a dream.

#scrooge 2022 #scrooge netflix #scrooge x oc #oc constance dogoode #tw self harm mention #tw child loss #tw abuse mention

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sylvieeee5 · 2 years

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episode the FOURTH

okay it’s LATE and i forgot i had an event today but i said this lb would be out today and it’s gonna be TODAY DANG IT

(soooo spoiler: i didn’t finish 😅 see you tomorrow for the last 2/3 i suppose!)

i've got eggnog and a danish and i am READYYYYYY let's go!

!Warning!! Book/show spoilers ahead!

1:09

Aaaaaand that's how you get an insanely high fee because the cabbie "accidentally" left the meter running while in gridlock.

Lookin' at you, New York.

1:49

I'm so glad Constance has found a kindred spirit sajhdkdah

1:56

DJAKSSKCASDA i thought it was gonna stop at

"Have you gone insane?"

"Most likely..."