“We did.” Even with Royce in prison, things were far from being wrapped up, but a heavy weight had been lifted from Micah’s chest.
Cosmo plucked a teardrop-shaped Christmas ornament from the box and hung it on a branch. After they’d set it up, they’d complained that it smelled like nothing, and even if it couldn’t smell like pine, it needed to be Christmas-y. They’d bought a can of cinnamon scent and unloaded it onto the tree.
“Everett, please tell me you’re the sensible brother,” Cosmo said. “Agree with me that candy corn is delicious.”
Everett closed his laptop and set it on the couch. “It’s not my favorite candy, but I like it. Especially the chocolate ones.”
“Ugh.” Micah plugged in the string lights on the tree. A kaleidoscope of colors twinkled from the branches. “At least we can all agree that candy canes are great.”
“I… don’t like peppermint,” Cosmo said.
Micah clutched his wounded heart. At least Cosmo had good taste in pies. The eggnog pumpkin ones were sure to be delicious, and the two cinnamon apple pies currently warming in the oven made the apartment smell like the world’s best bakery. A third apple pie sat on the counter, wrapped in cellophane and tied with a wide green bow. Cosmo had said they didn’t want to leave it in their car, but they hadn’t mentioned who it was for. Micah peeked at the tag, but he didn’t recognize the names.
“It’s for Zedd’s parents,” Cosmo said quietly.
Micah nodded. Cosmo hadn’t attended Zedd’s funeral, but they had chipped in for flowers and had a couple of brief phone conversations with his father.
Cosmo tugged on one of their polymer clay Santa earrings. “I doubt they’ll want me to stay long; they don’t hate me, but I also don’t think my presence is helpful for them. I found some old photos of Zedd in a shoebox, though, so I’m going to take those over with the pie.”
“You have such a big heart. I’m sure they’ll appreciate the photos. Hopefully the pie too.”
A knock came at the door. Micah crossed to it and peered through the peephole. All the guests were here. His Christmas party was going to be tiny, but having five guests in his place at once would feel like a crowd. They probably wouldn’t stick around for Cosmo’s “Killer Claus” movie later, but that was okay. Micah’s favorite part of watching horror movies with Cosmo was the way they shrieked in a mixture of fear and enjoyment and clutched Micah’s arm. If their terror-snuggling grossed Everett out, he could go back to his emails.
Hesitating only a moment, he swung open the door and said, “Hi! Merry Christmas.”
Déjà, Rye, and Ximena stood on the step, their arms laden with food and gifts. Déjà leaned forward in her oversized sunglasses and air kissed Micah’s cheeks.
“Feliz Navidad, mijo!” Ximena scooped him into a hug, pulling him half out the door.
Micah welcomed them inside. They stepped beyond the threshold.
He closed the door and smiled.
EPILOGUE
Cosmo - Snagged Thread
Cosmo’s hand shook as he brought a cigarette to his lips. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to keep crying or just throw up all the milkshake sloshing around in his stomach, but this cemetery was suitable for neither. Leaves on the trees in gold and vermilion blurred into an autumnal smear as he tried to blink the tears from his vision. At least he’d worn waterproof mascara today.
“I just want” – he sniffled and took a drag – “I just want some Cosmo, in some universe, to not be treated like shit. Is that really so much to ask? Even if it’s not me. JustsomeCosmo.” A composition notebook sat in his lap, the cover closed so he didn’t distort the handwriting with his tears. Micah had warned him the information inside was heavy, and Cosmo had initially refused to look, insisting that if he didn’t read it yet, that meant he’d get another date with Micah. In reality, he’d delayed looking because he’d been terrified to know.
It was so much worse than he’d expected.
Smoke rolled out of his nose, and he wiped his wet lashes. “Who knows how many parallel universes are out there. Do you think I’m treated like shit in all of them?”
“No, I don’t.” The wind tousled Micah’s hair, blowing his bangs across his forehead. Bits of dirt and leaves dusted the knees of his jeans, his back resting against a listing headstone. “I know for a fact that the Cosmo who wrote in that notebook isn’t treated like shit.”
“How can you know that?”
Micah tentatively folded his hand over Cosmo’s. “Because he’s with me. Other me. And I would never treat you like shit.”
Cosmo sorely wanted to believe that their counterparts on the other timeline were happy together, that Micah treated him as something other than an absurd Dadaesque novelty, something other than a transient interest to be enjoyed for a brief time and thrown away. But if every one of Cosmo’s other selves went crawling back to Zedd again and again, if every one of them ignored warnings about Royce, then he was doomed to be miserable in every universe.
“I could quit my job and move away, or I could call a police station and tell them that Royce–” Cosmo choked and tapped the notebook for emphasis. “I died originally. Why do you think that is? Some people are sensible, Micah. They listen to logic and to the good advice from their friends. Then there’s me. I fall back into the same habits until they bury me alive.”
Micah adjusted his glasses and said, “Are you saying you deserve what Royce did to you? Isplanningto do to you?”
“No! But I threw my own funeral just to move on from Zedd. I need something dramatic in order to change. And I need… I can’t do it alone.”
