Chapter Text
Somewhere in my memory
Christmas joys all around me
Living in my memory
All of the music, all of the magic
All of the family, home here with me
***
The Dupain-Cheng family had settled nicely into their new home and lives in Paris. It was, by far, not perfect and Jason especially faced his own challenges, but not one of them would argue against it being a vast improvement over Gotham. Sabine’s blood pressure was much healthier now that her stress over family’s safety was eased and Tom was working with a therapist over his anxiety, particularly his anxiety over his children.
The bakery was a huge blessing! In Gotham they’d done what they could running a bakery situated adjacent to Crime Alley, owned by someone they never actually met (and they suspected was a legitimate business front for some rogue or other organized crime). In Paris, they had complete freedom for how they ran their business. Their location was fantastic and Sabine’s old friend Nadja helped them network with many of her high-profile contacts in the media world, so their clientele had boomed recently as their reputation became well known for catering specialty deserts for parties and buisness functions. Tom had even been asked to give demonstrations at a few local schools and they were able to recruit a few apprentices that worked after school.
It was wonderful to let the kids play and take them around the city without worrying about being hit with fear gas or something worse! Marinette was seven and had made some very close friends since moving to Paris and Jason, after floundering a bit, was beginning to make friends, too. They were both flourishing in different ways and it was sometimes difficult to keep up with their physical and emotional growth spurts. Especially because—
“Mama, I’m THIRTEEN!” Jason rolled his eyes. “I’m old enough to stay home alone and watch Marinette! This is Paris not Gotham!”
“There is still crime in Paris, young man.” Sabine said sternly.
Jason waved off her concern. “Regular, boring crime that doesn’t involve theatre geek makeup and evil monologuing!”
Sabine sighed and wished—again—that the Lehiffes had not come down with a bad case of the stomach flu. Jason and Marinette were supposed to be at their townhouse tonight for a sleepover while Tom and Sabine catered their best high-profile client’s Christmas party. The Le Chin family was out of town and Sabine didn’t know Jason’s new friends’ families well enough to feel comfortable calling them at the last second to watch the kids.
Maybe she was paranoid, but after living in Gotham for so long, she just didn’t like leaving the kids without an adult supervision for so long—and at night! Yes, Jason had survived longer than a few hours all by himself on the Crime Alley streets—a fact that still made her heartsick and fueled her nightmares—but that was all the more reason she didn’t like leaving him alone. Sabine never wanted Jason to feel alone again. Whatever piece of childhood she could return to her son, she would give it whole heartedly.
But, she supposed, one night babysitting his sister while they were out wouldn’t ruin his sense of security within their family. Hopefully. Maybe it was best not to over think this.
“Alright—“
Both her kids erupted into cheers that coaxed a reluctant smile to her lips.
“But the doors stay locked, the alarm on, and no leaving the house or letting anyone in!” Sabine instructed. “We’ll order a pizza before we go and there are leftover cookies for dessert—“
“Relax, Mama!” Jason grinned. “We’re just going to watch a movie and pig out!”
Marinette corroborated the story by racing around the living room and making piggy sounds.
Sabine shook her head and resigned herself to coming home to some sugar-charged children.
***
They watched Home Alone.
Sabine should have known better than to leave without checking what they planned to watch. Hadn’t this same type of thing happened when they watched Jumanji and Jason and Marinette tried to make a bonfire with all their board games? Or when Marinette wouldn’t play croquet after watching Alice in Wonderland? She should have learned by now.
***
“This isn’t scary, is it Jay-Jay?” Marinette asked, snuggled into her brother’s side and nibbling on a gingerbread cookie.
“Nah!” Jason said. “It’s a Christmas Classic, Pixie Pop! Just wait until you see how this kid just wastes these clowns!”
“Wasn’t that guy with the gold tooth a cop?” Marinette asked. “Aren’t they supposed to be the good guys?”
It was good that his sister had gotten out of Gotham before it could chew up her innocence and spit it back out.
“He’s not really a cop,” Jason explained. “Remember, appearances can be deceiving. That’s why Mama and Papa warned us about stranger danger.”
“Okay.” Marinette nodded, looking a little unsure.
***
“Jay-Jay!” Marinette exclaimed. “The bad guys are gonna hurt Kevin!”
“It’s okay, Marinette,” Jason hugged her a little closer, starting to regret his choice in movies. Maybe Home Alone wasn’t something that should be watched till you were eight, but Jason was already fencing stolen phones for food when he was eight, so his gage on age appropriateness wasn’t always spot on. “Kevin’s gonna be fine!”
“But his mama and papa aren’t home and he’s got a shovel-killing neighbor next door!” Marinette cried.
“No, no!” Jason rushed to reassure her. “The neighbor’s actually okay. That was all just mean rumors and stuff. That’s why we don’t gossip. Right, Pixie? Because lies and stories that don’t belong to you can hurt people’s feelings.”
“You don’t think our neighbors have a shovel, do you?” Marinette worried.
“What? Old Lady Bernard?” Jason laughed.
“Mama said it’s not nice to call her that.” Marinette scolded.
“Old Lady Bernard wouldn’t care if I called her that to her face, and I don’t think she’d want to risk ruining her stick-on manicure lifting a shovel!” Jason chuckled.
***
The house was too quiet once the movie was over. Jason was a little drowsy, but Marinette was still incredibly keyed up. It probably hadn’t helped that Jason let her eat three brownies, half a box of macrons, two gingerbread cookies (so they wouldn’t be lonely in her tummy), and a bowl of potato chips (she needed the salt to balance all the sugar). Jason was just hoping she didn’t get a stomach ache from it all, a wish that he realized he was a little late in making.
“But what if Mme. Bernard is just her kindly-lady cover name and she’s really on the most wanted list in seven countries and she was—“
“Marinette, she’s fine.”
“Or she’s so old that the real bad guys knocked her out and stole her appartment because it’s next to the bakery and they want Papa’s galette recipe!”
“I mean, I wouldn’t blame them.” Jason shrugged. “But no.”
“But what if—“
A crash outside made them both jolt up.
“Jay-Jay!” Marinette clutched her brother’s arm.
“It’s probably just a cat or something.” Jason shrugged. “We’re fine, Marinette.”
“So was Kevin before the gold tooth guy went after him!” Marinette exclaimed. “And we’re home alone just like he was!”
“No, we’re not.” Jason said. “His parents were chumps and forgot their kid in an attic—“
“We sleep in an attic!”
“—and they went on an overseas vacation.” Jason went on. “Mama and Papa are just across town and we can call them any time.”
The building settled and made a loud creaking noise just at that moment. Marinette jumped into his lap and it wasn’t until Jason noticed that he was clutching her back that he realized his little sister’s imagination was getting to him.
“It’s just the wood and stuff contracting in the cold.” Jason explained, shocked that his voice didn’t sound as confident as he thought it would. He was a Crime Alley kid! Since when did he get jumpy from a family movie?!
“Or maybe it’s Mme. Bernard getting her shovel out.” Marinette whimpered.
***
“What about the paint cans, Jay-Jay?” Marinette asked.
Jason shook his head. “Nah, that’s too much blunt force to the head. Same with the blow torch. It was fun in the movie, but if we try to imitate it we could actually hurt someone. Let’s stick to the other stuff until we know that the intruder is dangerous.”
Marinette nodded her head very seriously and went back to painting homemade slime across the steps.
***
“What on earth…” Tom exclaimed as he pushed several bags of flour away from the doorway. “I told the kids they couldn’t use the bakery while we were gone! What is this doing…”
“Oh dear…” Sabine sighed as she took in the rest of the entryway.
The stairs and banister were covered in pink slime—obviously Marinette’s handiwork—while Jason’s collection of sharpened legos (Tom found that out the hard way last spring) littered every surface possible like a minefield.
“They watched Home Alone.” Sabine realized tiredly.
“Did someone try to break in?!” Tom worried.
“I don’t think so, Jason would have called us for that…” Sabine thought.
“Oh! Watch out!” Tom pulled Sabine back. “Looks like they taped up some saran wrap and glue.”
“And there’s the trip wire…” Sabine followed it to a their standing fan and a lovely concoction of feathers, flour, and sprinkles.
“If they’ve turned my kitchen upside down, Sabine, I’ll have them scrubbing all the pans from the Christmas rush!” Tom grumbled.
“I’m sure they wouldn’t have…” Sabine flinched as she stepped on something that made a loud crunch before setting off a chain reaction that somehow set off an air horn—where did they even get an air horn?!
“Who’s there?!” Jason shouted from the top of the stairs. “Prepare to meet rolling pin, you galette-loving sons of—“
“Jason Peter Todd Dupain-Cheng!” Tom said angrily. “Do you really want to finish that sentence, young man!”
“Papa! Mama!” Jason laughed nervously. “You’re home! Uh…welcome back!”
“My son,” Sabine called, “my grown-up, thirteen-year-old son. What was that about being ready to watch your sister alone for the evening?”
“Hey, we didn’t burn the joint down and Pixie Pop is asleep!” Jason called down. Sure, Marinette passed out after the sugar high wore off, but he didn’t need to get into specifics.
“And you’ve most definitely armed the home while we were gone.” Sabine observed.
“You’re welcome.” Jason said.
Tom sighed. “If you were worried Jason—“
“I wasn’t worried!”
“You could have called us, sweetie.” Sabine reminded. “You know we would have dropped everything so at least one of us could have come home early.”
“Eh…you’re home now…” Jason said sheepishly.
“We are home now.” Tom nodded his head, even if Jason couldn’t see it.
“I’ll clean it all up tomorrow.” Jason said.
“You both will.” Sabine corrects.
“Meanwhile, what was your plan for getting us upstairs tonight, son?” Tom asked. “And just how we’re you planning on us bypassing the booby traps?”
There was silence for a moment before Jason intelligently said, “Uhhhh…”
Sabine sighed, suddenly feeling tired. Tom looked no better but began looking for their broom and muttering under his breath as he wondered if it would be easier to clear a path or brave the fire escape down the block and cross the roofs to enter through the kids’ room…assuming that wasn’t also booby trapped.
Sabine snorted and suddenly was trying to hold back her laughter. Tom shot her a look, but was clearly trying to hold back a smile. It only made her laugh harder and soon Tom was guffawing with her.
“Okay, laugh now! Yuck it up!” Jason called down the stairs. “But if you’d been a real crook, that galette recipe would be safe! No matter how many shovels Old Lady Bernard has!”
“I suppose this is a parenting win for us.” Tom whispered to Sabine.
“How so?” Sabine whispered back.
“Jason grew up used to the survival of the fittest.” Tom reminded her. “As…disastrous as these pranks are, none of them are truly lethal—“
“Falling down the stairs could still be dangerous…”
“If you could reach them!” Tom snorted. “Our boy was acting protectively but he still kept his head and didn’t endanger anyone—including us or his sister—with ‘security measures’ that could cause permanent harm.”
Sabine smiled softly and nodded back at her husband. Looking at it that way, Sabine was just happy to think her son was becoming more comfortable and secure the longer he lived with them. He didn’t seem to feel like lived to fight for his life anymore. Or at least, not as often. He was happy. Compared to the defensive, battle-worn, life-worn little eleven year old they first met, she felt like they must be doing something right.
End Notes: I could see Tom having anxiety much like Marinette and catastrophizing over his loved ones—see his akumatization.
The lyrics from the opener are from “Somewhere In My Memory,” the theme from Home Alone.
Therefore the Lord Himself will give you a sign: The virgin will conceive and give birth to a son, and will call Him Immanuel.”
Isaiah 7:14