Chapter Text
The shark plushie stared at her with a stitched smile from where it laid against her knees—the morning light highlighting it, as if trying to make the thirteen year old feel more at ease.
Hannah stared back at it, forehead resting against the window and chin settled against her fist.
The shark was a dark blue—almost greyish—color with a light blue underbelly with cute little pointy teeth sewn into his smiling mouth. His fins outstretched in an almost hugging motion, and he was soft and a bit fuzzy but not in a way that the texture made her want to rip her skin off like soft things usually did. He was light enough to pick up but also weighed in a way that allowed him to sit one way without falling over.
Hannah loved it—loved him.
She hadn’t even known she wanted such a thing but now she couldn’t imagine her life without it. It reminded her of the sharks that circled around the Lost Revenge that Harry, Uma, Gil, and their friends had all painstakingly named. The shark was cute and cuddly, and it—it reminded her of home. Which is exactly why Hannah was going to name her little sharky buddy that the Santa gave her ‘revenge’.
Something she just knew her little Peter Pan doll was judging her for, judging by the side eye it was giving her from where he was sitting on her nightstand.
Skia was fast asleep atop of the wardrobe, after having stayed up for a week, finally. Hannah had been afraid that her friend was never going to fall asleep—which, unfortunately, made her lose most of her non-Hannah impulse control. Something that often led to people being interrogated and places being burned down at the first hint of her loved ones’ safety being in danger. All of which made it all the more miraculous that the blue haired godling hadn’t burned Auradon Prep to the ground like she threatened when Hannah had failed to return by breakfast as promised.
(She’d had questions and Santa had been glad to take her along to answer them, surprisingly, after his friends Sandy—THE SANDMAN—and Jack Frost—THE JACK FROST who had defeated the Boogeyman and protested the isle—encouraged the idea).
Luke was still asleep in Amira’s bed, hugging one of the spare pillows Hannah had…uh, borrowed, from the school laundry room.
And River? Well, he’d snuck down to the school pool to stretch his finns. He’d been pleasantly surprised when Hannah hadn’t argued against it (what could she say? Meeting Santa Claus did wonders for one’s anxiety).
Hannah had met Santa Claus.
He’d given her a gift and he’d planted gifts for her friends in the dormroom.
Her friends were safe and Hannah was happy.
Santa Claus didn’t hate isle kids.
Santa Claus thought she was ‘Naughty sometimes, yes, but also VERY NICE!’
Hannah Hook finally believed that Santa Claus existed. But she also believed in much more than that now—she believed in Santa Claus as a person, truly believed that he WAS what people said.
Hannah Hook believed in the spirit of Santa Claus, wonder, and everything else Christmas was now and she doubted that she’d ever stop believing again.