Chapter Text
Not so Tiny Tim had tackled him from behind, causing him to slip on the iced cobblestones before the counting house.
Which resulted in a whole crowd to fuss around him, helping him to stand up and checking him over for injuries.
Beryl offered her sled to sit down.
Tom Jenkins dusted of Ebenezers hat and offered it to him. “Don’t give us a scare like that, Mr. Scrooge.”
Mrs. Heaty offered him some cocoa she carried with her to warm up from standing in the cold so long to collect for the charity.
All these people had once celebrated his death.
Bob Cratchit slammed the Door of the counting house open, swung over the balustrade and elegantly sled down the ice to him. “Ebenezer!”
“I’m fine,” he laughed. “Really.”
“You could have seriously injured yourself. That was quite the fall!”
Ebenezer pulled Tim closer recognizing the shimmer of tears in the wide eyes.
He patted his hair and held his gaze. “I’m fine. Why don’t we grab ourselves a few hot chestnuts to get over that shock, down on Buckerbee Lane?”
“And Honey wine?”
Scrooge laughed. “And honey wine.”
He rose and lifted Tim up to sit on his shoulder, then marched on. Everyone followed him, unquestioningly. If Ebenezer Scrooge offered something, he offered it for everyone, after all.
He was just a person like that, truly carrying the spirit of Christmas always in his heart, no matter the time of the year.