Work Text:
“Rayla,” Callum pauses as he opens the door, “what are you wearing?”
It’s 9 PM, a week before Christmas, snow on the ground, school canceled, carolers in full swing, and Rayla is wearing-
“My santa costume,” she states, matter of factly, “And if you tell Soren about this, you’re dead meat, you hear?” She brushes past him into the house, arms crossed and stomping so hard, she scares Callum’s cat upstairs. She leaves snowy boot-tracks in her wake, and when she realizes this, she huffs and kicks the Santa boots off to reveal Santa-themed fuzzy socks.
“I can see it’s a Santa costume,” he closes the door and follows her as she heads to the living room. “But, like, why is it a Santa costume?”
Rayla huffs again, ripping the Santa hat off her head and stuffing it into her Santa pocket. “I drew the short end of the stick at the September Foundation last week,” she grumbles. She’s been volunteering at that particular charity, and it’s no secret that they always put on a huge, heartwarming production for the homeless shelter every year. It’s a nice thing- a really good thing, because the place is swarmed with donations and excitable volunteers- Callum stifles a laugh anyways.
“Well I think you look-”
“I don’t want to hear it.” Rayla practically throws herself onto the couch, bouncing slightly, arms crossed in sheer annoyance. The cat makes its way back downstairs, sniffing gently at the Santa boots Rayla left by the door.
“Oh, come on, stop being such a grump,” Callum sits gently beside her. “So you have to parade around as Santa for a while, what’s the big deal?”
“The big deal is I look stupid.”
“I think you look great!”
“I said I don’t want to hear it!” she snaps, making Callum blink in surprise. She sighs, and stares into the fireplace, embers sparkling in her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she relents, “I didn’t mean to yell, I just- I look so stupid and I- I’m tall and scrawny don’t look anything like Santa Clause!”
“Don’t call yourself scrawny- we both know you have muscles to rival Soren-“
“Callum, shut up!”
“Right. Not the point.” He sighs. “But looks can’t be the only reason you’re.. upset. You’ll be bringing joy to, like, a ton of little kids! They love Santa! And as soon as we get you a Santa beard and some Santa accessories and a Santa sack of presents-”
Rayla groans, cutting off Callum’s teasing and flops further onto the cushions. “I just don’t wanna do it! I don’t wanna be Santa this year or the next year or the year after that! I don’t! I think Santa is stupid!”
“We need to get you a new vocabulary, you’ve said the word stupid so many times.”
“That’s because that's all it is! Stupid, stupid, stupid!” Rayla stomps a foot on the floor, once again scaring the cat around a corner. She blinks rapidly, and that's when Callum realizes she’s holding back tears.
“Oh, Rayla, if you really don’t wanna do it, I’m sure the September Foundation can find someone else,” he tries. Rayla shakes her head and looks at him with a frown.
“You’re right,” she says as the cat reappears.
“I am?”
“It’s not the outfit.”
“Oh.” Callum scoots closer. “What is it?”
“When… I was a kid, like, younger than Ezran is now, maybe when I was four or five, well-” She pauses, staring at the Santa gloves encasing her hands before ripping them off and throwing them to the ground. The cat moves to sniff them trepidatiously. “Runaan was always Santa for the stupid Christmas card pictures. And when we stopped doing Christmas cards, he started being Santa for the September Foundation.” She took a shuddering breath, and Callum had a terrible feeling he knew where this was going. “And ever since he went missing, I-” she broke off and bit her lip, blinking as she looked away.
“Santa is Runaan’s job,” Callum says, “And you don’t wanna cement that he’s gone by taking it.” As if on cue, Callum’s cat jumps onto the couch and curls up between them. Rayla reaches out a hand, scratching it behind the ear, and it starts to purr loudly. It’s such a quiet, domestic scene, and even though it’s sad, there’s something so utterly peaceful about it.
“Runaan was always so excited to be Santa, especially for the kids,” Rayla sniffs. “They climbed all over him, treating him like a jungle-gym. He gave them piggyback rides. He drew pictures with them.” She picks up the cat all together at this point, holding it close to her chest. “And at the end, he was so thoughtful-“ she breaks off for just a second to regain her composure, “He would have the kids give him their christmas lists, and then he would organize this whole thing where he’d- he-d get people to sponsor certain kids and get them, like, the top three things they wanted.”
Callum remembers this vividly. There was a news article on it last year, where Runaan had managed to raise enough money for a down payment on an apartment for a girl whose wish was her own house. Callum and Ezran even helped Rayla and her family move donated furniture into the apartment, while Runaan personally took the family shopping for winter coats. All while making it look like Santa was doing the Christmas magic.
“I can’t be as good as him,” Rayla says, finally looking up at him. “Runaan was so good at Santa. I can’t do it like him, I can’t raise that kind of money, I can’t get those donations, I can’t-“
“Rayla, hey,” Callum whispers. He takes the plunge and moves next to her completely, wrapping her in a one-armed hug, cat purring between them. “You don’t have to be as good as him.”
“But I do!” A wet cough escapes her throat. “If I’m not, I’d be disrespecting him. Imagine how disappointed he’d be when we find him that I didn’t help the kids get all their Christmas wishes and shit-“
“You know that’s not the goal of the September Foundation,” Callum says, “That was Runaan’s goal, and it was a good one, but his example is not the requirement you need to fulfill.” He takes a breath, and Rayla’s quiet for a moment. “You know Runaan would never be disappointed in you. When we find him, he’ll be so, so proud you took up the helm.”
“But-“
“And realistically, you won’t raise enough money for an apartment. You won’t be able to get as many donations as him. It’s your first time doing this, and that’s okay, you know?” He tugs her closer, and she puts her head on his shoulder. “You know what you can do?”
Rayla sniffs. “What?”
“You can let those kids climb all over you. You can let them treat you like a jungle-gym, you can give them piggy-back rides, you can draw pictures with them, you can help them with their Christmas lists,” Callum says, “And even if some of the things aren’t exact, you can still use the Foundation’s existing donations to get each kid the best present possible. They’ll love it.”
“They won’t get a new house,” Rayla protests.
“That’s an unrealistic expectation,” Callum replies. “And it’s not one you have to hold yourself to. You know that.”
Rayla takes a breath in, breathing slowly, “Yeah. I know.”
“Runaan is proud of you,” Callum says, “And you’re gonna be a great Santa. I’ll even get Ez and Harrow to dress up as an elf with me, and we can help you all day long.”
“Really?” Rayla looks up at him. “You’d do that?”
“Of course,” he answers easily. “Anything for the cutest Santa I’ve ever seen.”
Rayla laughs wetly, punching him in the shoulder with absolutely no heat. “Shut up,” she says, but she’s smiling.
They sit in the quiet, letting the cat’s breathing and the crackle of the fireplace fill the room. Runaann has been missing for a few months, and it’s a little hopeless that he’s ever gonna make it home, but in the light of the fire, there’s a bit of hope that Rayla can at least carry on his legacy. Yeah, it’s a Santa legacy, but she’ll do it, because Runaan would. And she just wants to make him proud.
“Callum?” Rayla whispers.
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.”
Callum presses a kiss to her head. “Anything for you.”