Whoa….this was supposed to be a one-shot….but ended up being three chapters long….

Anyway, as Christmas is approaching, I decided to write a fanfic in the spirit of things—so why not use my latest obsession?

I'm not completely satisfied with this, but it's a bit different than what I'm used to writing…..ah well, it isn't bad. Least I don't think so.

So yeah, enjoy this three part story, and Merry Christmas!

His mom was yelling. Again. For something that they did. Of course, that didn't matter to her. Being the second—and true, in his opinion—youngest member of the family meant that, if his brothers didn't want to get caught doing who knows what, they planted sufficient evidence and blamed him. Even though….a good….75 % of the time it wasn't his fault.

Curling his hand into a fist, Dewey slammed it down in his bed. How did this happen; that he became the family scapegoat? Reese, Malcolm….even his dad on occasion….it was like they were too scared to take responsibility for their own idiotic behavior. Actually….he didn't blame them for being scared. No….even he could see that. It was more like….well, he figured by this point in time, they'd have learned. If Francis, the king of all delinquents, could clean up his act, then why couldn't the rest of his family? His dad was….well, Dewey didn't know why his father acted like a ten year old sometimes….but Malcolm and Reese? Where was their excuse?

"Dewey! Come out here!"

Dewey groaned, his mother's shrill voice evaporating his train of thought. Swallowing his frustration, the dirty-blond boy put on his 'obedient' face, and went to meet his mother in the kitchen.

"Yeah mom?" He replied, eyes scanning the surrounding area for any evidence his family may have planted against him. It didn't look as though he were in trouble….but one could never be too—

"Here."

Dewey blinked; the flimsy envelope in his mother's hand taking a moment to register. "What's this?" He opened his mouth to say, but she, as usual, read his mind.

"I want you to mail Jamie's letter to Santa." She said, her voice in its commandeering mode.

"Letter….to Santa?" He repeated, staring at the thing as if it were a foreign object.

That's right. It was almost Christmas.

"Yes, didn't you hear me? I want you to mail your brother's letter."

His mask faltered for a moment. Yet another chore for him to complete. "But mom, I have lots of other things to—"

"They can wait."

He had to resist an eye roll. "But—"

"No buts! Now here." She jabbed it in his face.

Screw the mask. He snatched the letter from his hand, muttering a 'why is it always me?' under his breath. She always did this to him. Disrupting his personal agenda to do her evil bidding. It was almost worse than being faultily blamed.

I am so sick of this, he thought bitterly, stomping back to his room in search of a coat to wear against the chilling winter air.

I wish….

He cut the thought from his mind. What was the point of wishing for something? Wishes never came true. They were nothing more than childish ideals. And he was childish to hang on to them.

It wasn't like he could change the way his family behaved….

"….or….could I?" He whispered aloud, a thought striking him. Abandoning his search for a jacket, Dewey frantically began scrambling around the room in search of a piece of paper and pencil. It was foolish, he knew, but at this rate, he'd try anything.

The door creaked open, and Dewey's head shot up.

"Hey, Dewey" his brother, Malcolm, greeted. Dewey didn't reply, his hand scribbling furiously with the writing utensil.

"What….are you doing?"

He kept his eyes averted; if he got caught, not only would his last, desperate plan be exposed, but he'd become the laughing stock of his brothers for the rest of his life.

"Dewey, hey I'm talking to you!" Malcolm tried again, leaning forward to better see just why his brother was ignoring him.

"I'm just doing homework, okay?" He spat, hunching over the paper and hoping his brother would buy it.

Still hovering over him, Malcolm's eyes scanned the entirety of the 'situation.' Damn his giant brain.

"What's with the envelope?"

Crap. He forgot to hide the envelope. Thinking fast, Dewey said simply, "It's Jamie's Christmas list. Mom told me to mail it but….uh….my um homework got in the way of it."

Malcolm was smart, but then again, so was he. Now if he would just leave him alone, instead of standing over him like that.

"Well, I can mail it for you. Reese isn't here and I have nothing to do."

"That's okay, Malcolm, I'll do it later."

"No seriously, I don't mind. Plus it'll be a great excuse to take the car out for a spin."

"That's okay, Malcolm. I've got it covered."

This wasn't good. His brother was way too close to the truth for comfort. Grabbing the letter, he proceeded to shove the letter under his folded arm.

But his brother caught him, and the envelope-stuffed-letter in the process.

"Hey!" Dewey cried, angry eyes shooting up to meet his brother's, "give me that back!"

Though Malcolm was the nicer of the two brothers, he held the letter over his head, just high enough so that Dewey couldn't reach. "I know what it's like to be swamped with homework, Dewey. And if someone offered me some leeway, I would take it, okay?"

"No! No it isn't okay! Give me back the letter!" Swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, the younger Wilkerson boy lunged at his brother.

"Dewey! What are you—ow!"

Younger or not, he'd grabbed Malcolm's arm, twisting it sharply in attempts to reach the Christmas letter. Normally, his brother's cry of pain would be music to his ears….but today, at this present moment in time, he could care less. He just needed to—

"Dewey! Malcolm! What are you doing?!"

Dewey winced. He knew that voice.

"Mom it wasn't my fault! Malcolm stole my le—Jamie's letter from me!"

"I didn't steal it! I was trying to help and he just attacked m—"

"Stop it both of you!" Lois bellowed, slamming her hands down at her sides. "It's bad enough to deal with this kind of behavior on a regular day, but so close to Christmas? You boys are unbelievable!"

It took ounce of Dewey's being not to explode. He was being unbelievable? Malcolm was the bastard who—

"Is this what Jamie has to look forward to in the future? You two are supposed to be his role models! Do you want him growing up thinking this is how normal boys react?"

Resist the eye roll….Dewey told himself, resist the eye roll….

"Mom…." He heard his brother try, a tone of persistence in his voice, "Jamie isn't going to act the way we do during the holidays—at least not for a few years."

Lois quirked an eyebrow. "Oh, and what makes you say that?"

For once, Malcolm surprised the younger boy. "Because mom, he knows—at least he'll think—that Santa's watching him, remember? He'll be trying to be good."

A small lump formed in Dewey's throat, as his eyes traveled from his mother's furrowed brow to his brother's pleading eyes. The tension was so thick, a chainsaw wouldn't have penetrated it.

"Please Malcolm," his mom said after a moment, "that never worked on any of you boys; why should Jamie be any different?"

"Mom, you know as well as I do that none of us ever believed in Santa, right Dewey?"

Dewey flinched, then cursed himself for letting down his guard. "I…." he started, mind racing to come up with the right word.

Apparently, he wasn't fast enough, as once again, Malcolm kept right on talking. "What I mean is, you've already done the whole writing the letter thing. And you're even mailing it. Keep this up and eventually, he'll be that perfect 'golden boy' every Christmas….." His voice trailed off; for once, having run out of things to say.

Surprised but pleased, Dewey took the opportunity. He needed that letter back.

"Mom," he started, turning on what his brother Reese called 'the cute' "I really hate to interrupt, but I've got a really important project due in two days and I'd kinda like to get it done tonight." He waited for her expression to soften. When it didn't, he added, "So I can help you decorate later."

His mother's face didn't break into a proud grin, like he'd hoped, but there were faint signs of a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "You're a good boy Dewey." She said simply, before frowning once more at Malcolm. "Why can't you be more like him?"

"What?" Malcolm shot back, baffled by how quickly the younger Wilkerson had turned their mother on him, "Mom, I wasn't doing anything!"

She opened her mouth to protest, but Malcolm kept on talking, "I was just offering to mail the letter while Dewey finished his homework—how is that wrong?"

Somewhere through his—what Dewey thought to be a pitiful attempt at pleading his case—Lois had begun massaging her temples; a behavior both boys rarely saw. After a moment, she sighed, and lowered her hand. "Dewey, your brother's right."

What?

"Come do your homework in the kitchen. Malcolm—go mail that letter."

Dewey's breath caught in his throat, his eyes widening as panic began to overtake him. This hadn't been what he'd wanted! "Mom, please! I'll do it! Just let me finish my—"

"Don't be ridiculous. If your work is that important to you, you should be grateful to your brother for offering to help. Kills to birds with one stone, you know." She raised her hand once more, thumb jerking behind her head towards the kitchen. "Now get going. I'm holding that decorating thing to you, so make sure your work is done before your father gets home, okay?"

Dewey could barely hear himself think over the sound of his pounding heart. This was not good. "Mom!" He cried, in a last effort to change her mind, "You can't—"

"Don't tell me what I can and can't do, mister!" Her eyes were back to scowling, in that domineering way that read 'you won't win this.'

Biting his lip, Dewey forced himself off the bed, slinging his back pack—which had been previously residing on the floor—over his shoulder. He thought he heard a faint 'that a boy' somewhere in the background, but couldn't be sure. His surroundings had become a panicked static of scratchy noises and anxiety.

There was no way out of this. Once Malcolm read that letter, he knew he was doomed.

"Way to kill three birds, mom." Dewey hissed, only loud enough for him to hear.

Well, that's it for part one. Stay tuned for the other two chapters!