Work Text:
Inspired by Trans Siberian Orchestra, "This Christmas Day."
Running Away From Home
So tell me Christmas, are we wise
To believe in things we never see
Are prayers just wishes in disguise
And are these wishes being granted me?
For now I see, the answering to every prayer I pray
"What the hell is she thinking?!" Mick St. John demanded, worrying pulling his features tight. "She's supposed to be the mature one!"
"She is. Don't worry, she'll be fine. We'll find her," his wife assured him. "Or she'll call us when she's ready."
"How can you be so calm about this?" he accused Beth.
"One of us has to be," she replied. "I'm going to go check on Michael, he's really upset." She headed for their son's bedroom.
"He's not the only one," Mick mumbled. He sat down on the bed, absently stroking the fur of the 3 ft. long stuffed dog he'd gotten Michelle for her birthday several years ago. He remembered her cuddling it to her, then throwing her arms around him for a hug...
It didn't matter how many years went by, Mick never took the miracle of his children for granted. He'd never thought he would have a life like this. The pain of that bitter knowledge had lived inside him for over fifty years. A dream, dead, as dead as he was that fateful night in his and Coraline's wedding bed. It seemed like a lifetime ago now, and he supposed it was. Everything he'd ever wanted had been given to him, the promise in Beth's living blue eyes made reality.
He remembered the panic that had gripped him when he found out Beth was pregnant; trying to block out worry about the million things that could go wrong and enjoy the miracle. The fact that it was obviously meant to be did soothe his nerves, but it was a tense nine months for him until his twins were born. He'd been a believer by then, but there was always that little part of him waiting for the other shoe to drop.
More memories washed over him as he sat there waiting: The delighted amazement that overcame him the night he realized he could hear not one, but two heartbeats. The twins' birth, not exactly his proudest moments, he reflected with a wry grin. Josef had practically had to sedate him (or maybe stake him, since sedation wasn't a vamp option); elation, panic, horror, awe, and a touch of insanity -- that night had it all. Or, as Josef liked to relate the story to the M&M's: "He was a wack job." He'd had fears about his ability to be a father. If vampires can't even be trusted with pets... He wouldn't have been able to live with himself if he'd looked at them and been aware of their blood in that uncomfortable way that would damn him. But he'd bonded with them before they were even born, and once they arrived he'd been overcome with a fierce protectiveness that had stunned him in its intensity. He'd taken to parenthood with an ease that amazed everyone, including him. And every year since then had been a gift he cherished.
The M&M's, as they were referred to by all who knew them. Michelle and Michael. The two children were total opposites. Michael was more like his mother. He had sandy hair and a bright, happy personality, he jumped into life with both feet and asked questions later. A bit reckless, a bundle of energy. Michelle was his girl. Dark, brooding, way too serious for her age. She worried too much and asked way too many adult questions. She took 'daddy's little girl' to a whole new level. He still recalled with embarrassment, that it was him she asked the tough questions of, and him she wanted to take her shopping for her first training bra. Her relationship with her mother, oddly, included a slight distance. So while he was bra shopping with Michelle, Beth was out helping Michael practice for little league. Daddy's really sensitive to the sun... He wasn't looking forward to the conversation that revealed just why daddy didn't like the sun. But he tried not to dwell on it, since it was a few years away yet. They were a family, and whatever came, they'd handle everything together.
Except one of them had decided to defect.
"Dammit, Michelle, where are you?!" Mick asked the empty bedroom. He reached out and pressed the button on the bedside clock radio. Michelle, my belle, filled the air and he had to laugh. Had to be a sign. That had always been his song for her, it was the song he sang her to sleep with at night...
Mick had just jumped up, intent on going out and finding her, when the phone rang. He snatched it up. "St. John," he barked.
Josef's ever-amused dry voice came over the line. "Did one of the chicks stray from the nest?"
"She's there!? Put her on!" he demanded.
A moment later, he heard the voice of his daughter. "Daddy?" she questioned tentatively.
"Michelle, Belle, are you okay?"
"I'm okay," she answered. "I'm here with Uncle Josef."
Mick had to smile; picturing the sour look Josef always got on his face when he was called that. "And why did you leave without telling us?" he asked, trying to sound stern. He looked up as Beth came into the room, and nodded to her to let her know it was Michelle. On the other hand, he could just do what he was best at and play the good parent, let Beth do the punishing.
"I'm sorry, daddy. I just got so... frustrated!"
"Then you come talk to us. You don't just take off without letting us know."
"Damn right," Beth muttered. "She is so grounded."
"I just needed to get away for a while."
"Away from what?" When she didn't answer right away, he pressed. "What, Belle?"
"He's so immature!" she burst out.
Ah, sibling rivalry. "Girls mature faster than boys Belle, why don't you give him a break?"
"He broke my music box. And he didn't even apologize. And then you guys told me I had to include him in my video movie I'm making."
"Michael broke her music box," Mick told Beth over the top of the phone.
"He's so grounded," she pronounced.
"And you didn't come to me, why?" he asked again, getting to the heart of the matter.
"I don't know. I was upset. I just wanted to get away for a while."
"You're twelve, sweetheart," he told her. "You don't go on walkabout without telling your parents. You worried everyone."
"I'm sorry, daddy. I'm ready to come home."
"We'll talk when you get here," Mick promised. "Put Josef on again." He suspected there was more to her leaving than just annoyance with her brother, but they'd get to the bottom of it when she was back.
"Why must I get dragged into these St. John family dramas?" Josef complained when he had the phone again. "You're ruining my reputation."
"That was ruined long ago," Mick told him, tactfully not mentioning Josef's own family dramas. "Can you put her on the plane tonight?"
"My pilot is standing by right now."
"Oh, let me talk to Sara," Beth put in.
"Beth wants to talk to Sara," Mick told him.
Josef sighed. "Of course she does. Okay, I'm taking Miss Mickey to the airport personally, and I'll make sure she gets on the plane. I'll email you with the ETA." Josef had nicknames for both mother and daughter. While Beth was usually Nora; to Josef Michelle was Mickey, probably because she was so much like her father.
"You're a good uncle," Mick told him, laughing at the growl that erupted.
Mick handed the phone to his wife and started for his computer to wait for the email that would tell him when his daughter was coming home.
The end.
12//25/07