Archive of Our Own

This year's Christmas dinner would probably be the nicest one they'll have in a while.

Sure, rotisserie chicken isn't exactly a luxury, but when the whole family is too young to have a job that pays you well, it's more than enough.

Yes, the Minecrafts had been thankful. Thankful for the heating that was still on, thankful for the kindness of their neighbors to help them with food, thankful for the shelter (as shoddy as it was) around them.

But there was always something missing. Someone to tuck them in at night, to kiss their foreheads, and check the closet for monsters. Techno couldn't exactly tuck himself in. And Wilbur's lullabies were nice, better than Mom's even. But that slightly off-key singing was far better at helping Tommy sleep than anything Wilbur could ever do.

‘Twas the night before the night before Christmas, as they say. All snuggled up in Mom and Dad's bed, that still smelled like them even after all those years.

"Wilbur?" piped Tommy.

"M'yeah?" Wilbur mumbled.

"Are we going to leave cookies out for Santa?"

"Tommy," Techno began, "it's a waste of food."

"I know." Tommy slumped. "But…Mom and Dad always—"

"Look, Santa will understand if we can't leave out cookies. We could barely get the heating bill covered," interrupted Wilbur.

"But—"

"Enough with the but's, Tommy! You're 12 years old, you know about Santa!" Techno snapped.

"I like to pretend. I like to pretend that he's real."

"Tommy…" Wilbur sighed.

"I like imagining that he'll come in and give us all the presents in the world. Y'know, anything we'd ask for. Even silly things, like toys."

Wilbur turned away. "I don't think I'd like having all of those. I'd feel spoiled."

"Okay then, just one thing we really, really want," Tommy settled.

The Minecrafts thought to themselves wistfully.

"Other than the obvious," Techno added.

"That's fair. Is it like, y'know, you can't wish for more wishes, you can't make anyone fall in love with you, and you can't bring…bring people back from the dead?" Wilbur questioned.

"Wilbur, he's Santa Claus. Not a genie," Techno groaned.

Wilbur thought to himself. "Then…I'd ask for a guitar—one of those really nice acoustic ones. Never really played before, but…I'd like to try."

"That would make your lullabies a lot more fun." Tommy thought. "What about you, Techno?"

"Uh…I don't know. Maybe if Santa paid rent for a couple months…that could get me to save up for something nice."

"Just let Santa get you something nice!!" Tommy elbowed him.

"Okay, fine, fine!!" Techno rolled his eyes. "A sword. So I can learn fencing."

"Sabre? Epee? Foil?" Wilbur asked.

"Wow, you really do listen to my rambles, Wil," Techno quipped. "Foil. Epee's too forgiving, and Sabre's too fast-paced; it's like over in three seconds. Foil seems like a good balance."

Tommy chuckled, "I mean, there was this really cute cow plushie at the toy store. It was like, as big as I am. I want that, more than anything."

"Really?" Wilbur asked.

"I mean, if Santa were a genie, I'd wish for…Mom and Dad to come back."

"Genies can't bring back people from the dead, Tommy." Techno sighed.

"Okay, then fine! I wish that we had a family again!" shouted Tommy.

"We are a family," Techno stated.

"Not without Mom and Dad! It's not fair, Techno, why'd they have to go out that night?"

"Tommy, stop it," Techno enunciated.

"Our parents are dead, Techno! They're gone, and they aren't coming back. Why can't I want that?!"

"It's never going to happen, Tommy!" Techno screamed. "God, it's always about them! I wish they were here right now, I wish I could have them back—we don't get to have that! And I'm sorry that they're dead, but there is nothing we can do about it!"

Tommy sniffled. Wilbur immediately pulled him closer.

"Techno, what the hell is wrong with you?!" Wilbur snapped. "He's grieving too, we all are!"

"Then can he shut up about it?!"

The dam broke, and Tommy's tears spilled over.

"Shit, Tommy, I'm sorry—" Techno began.

"Technoblade. You. Me. Hallway. Now," Wilbur snarled.

Techno huffed.

Wilbur tightened his fists. "Look, I get you're fucking stressed, we're all stressed. But Tommy? Tommy doesn't have a lot of things to distract him. Not since winter break started. Mom and Dad are literally all he can think about. Why are you being such an asshole for like, no fucking reason, man?!"

"Wilbur, I don't think he appreciates me."

"He does!"

"All he talks about is Mom and Dad—they've been gone for five years! Can he grow up?"

"He's 12 years old! You're 16 years old, and you're acting like a child! I think YOU need to grow up!"

"You're 14, and you still write letters to Santa."

Wilbur froze.

"Is that why you're being so defensive over Tommy? You want the same thing?" Techno sneers.

"Yeah. Yeah, I do. And you know what I write about? Same thing every year. For Mom and Dad to come back."

"It's not going to happen."

"I know. I know that, dammit. Santa isn't real, Mom and Dad are dead, and all of that shit, but, for the love of God, Techno, if Tommy could want a pony for Christmas back when he was 3, then I can want my parents back."

Techno pinched the bridge of his nose. "Fine. I'll be making sure we have enough money not to freeze to death on Christmas Day. But believe whatever you wanna believe."

"I don't believe, Techno. I wish."

"We all know wishes don't come true." Techno turned towards the door.

"I know," Wilbur breathed. "Now I'm going to calm him down. You, just…think about what you're doing. Fuckin' grinch."

Wilbur reentered the room with a soft 'Hey, Toms.'

Techno could only roll his eyes.

Thud.

Thud.

THUD.

Tommy jolted awake.

There was something outside. Tommy was almost certain. What was the harm in checking? That arguing noise outside was even more confusing. And Techno would probably appreciate him keeping the house safe. He is a big man, after all.

Peering out the window, Tommy's jaw dropped open.

A sleigh. An actual sleigh with a giant sack. And two boys, about his age, with pointed ears? The shorter one had scruffy brown hair, the taller one had a split white-black hairstyle. Both of them donning some kind of green and red suit.

The shorter threw his hands into the air. "Ranboo, you were supposed to land it ON the rooftop!" 

"You do realize that this rooftop is really hard to land on?!" The taller, supposedly named Ranboo, fiddled with the bells on his suit. "You're looking at me like I'm supposed to be the big guy himself."

"How'd you even get your license?"

"I'm 12 years old, Tubbo, I don't think we should be operating heavy machinery!!"

"We're elves, dammit, we're built different!" Tubbo shouted. "These ears?! These ears mean we're built different, bossman! Now go call the big guy, and tell him what happened."

"Fine! Fine."

Tommy bit his tongue. Arguments were something he was used to, especially with Wilbur and Technoblade bickering constantly. But the big guy? Was that—

Santa Claus.

Tommy opened the window.

Wilbur shifted awake. "…Tommy? What the hell are you—"

Tommy hopped out, landing softly in the snow.

"Tommy?!" Wilbur gasped, kicking Technoblade awake.

"Heh?!" Techno squawked.

"Wil!! Techno, look!!!" He pointed. "I-It's a sleigh, an actual sleigh!! With a sack and everything!!!"

Wilbur and Techno followed after, shivering from the drop in temperature.

"Tommy, whose sleigh is that!?" asked Wilbur.

"It's Santa's!! These two elves were talking about the 'big guy,' it has to be Santa Claus!!"

"Tommy, Santa isn't real. We've been over this."

"I know, or I thought so, but—but Techno, look!! I-I can prove it!"

Tommy ran towards the sack with a determined look on his face.

"Tommy, wait!" Wilbur ran after him, Techno following suit.

Thanks to experience climbing trees (Despite Techno's protests), Tommy swiftly clambered to the top of the sack.

"If Santa Claus is really real, he's gonna have presents for everyone in here!!" Tommy opened the bag, watching the presents glitter inside.

"See?! See—" Tommy tilted forward. "Woah, woah—"

"Tommy!!" Wilbur yelped, covering his mouth as his brother tumbled face-first into the sack, "Shit—Tommy! We're coming!!"

Techno jumped onto the sack, skittering upwards like a bug, quickly making it to the top.

"Wait, I'm coming!" Wilbur struggled to make his way towards the top. He swung his foot around, trying to find something stable. He steeled himself as he stepped on a present, and peered into the sack. "Tommy?! Tommy, are you in there!?"

Tommy looked up at his brothers, "Y-Yeah!! I-I fell in, but look at all these presents!!! He's real! He's really real!!"

"That's great, Tommy, but we need to get you out of there!!"

"Wilbur, I'll grab onto your ankles, and I'll lower you down," Techno said.

"Got it!" Wilbur nodded as Techno latched on, bringing him towards Tommy.

"Grab on, Tommy!"

Tommy jumped towards his hands, barely grazing his fingertips.

"Almost got it—" Tommy grunted.

"Ugh, Wilbur, stop squirming!"

Wilbur looked back up. "I'm not squirming!! I don't have a lot of upper body strength—"

"Alright, Ranboo, let's just get back to the pole. It was practice, after all. That's why we do this."

"You're just happy you have to drive."

"Very much so."

"Wait, Wilbur, I can't hold on, stop squirming!"

"I'm not squirming! The sleigh, it's—"

Wilbur and Techno yelped as the sack swallowed both of them up, landing on Tommy with a resounding, "Oof!"

None of them got the chance to scream before the sack was sealed shut, shaking as the sleigh shifted about.

"Great, Tommy, look what you've gotten us into." Techno pinched his nose.

"A sack?" Tommy asked.

"Techno!! It's not his fault!!"

"Wilbur, don't be an idiot, if he hadn't climbed a literal sack, we wouldn't be in this situation!"

"You mean in this sack?" Tommy asked.

"God, Techno, you love to blame everything on other people—"

"You're one to talk, Mr. I'm-Too-Flimsy-To-Save-My-Brother-From—"

"A sack?" Tommy—

"Stop talking about the sack, Tommy!!" Techno shouted.

"M'sorry." Tommy sniffed.

"Okay, so we're in a sack. Wonderful, awesome. Now what?!" Wilbur questioned.

"Figure out where we're going?"

"That's a good idea, Tommy," Wilbur responded. "Does this thing have windows?"

Techno reached for the sack. "Maybe we can see through the fabric if we pull the sack really tight?"

"Smart," Wilbur said under his breath.

Techno stretched out the fabric, pressing his eye against it.

"Can't make anything out, just looks like a bunch of clouds."

Wilbur peered through. "Are we in the sky?!"

Tommy shoved Wilbur aside and peered through as well. "Oh my god, Techno, we're going to the North Pole!!"

"The North—the North fucking Pole?! You mean the Arctic?!" Techno shrieked. "We're in our PJ's, we'll freeze to death!!"

"I don't know, Techno, maybe there's some kind of workshop there? Where Santa makes his toys?"

"Santa! Isn't! Real!" Techno enunciated.

"For the love of fuck, Techno, we are in a sack, in a sleigh, in the sky!!!"

Techno paused and sat back down.

"…Santa's real," Techno uttered.

"Yeah." Wilbur leaned back.

"…Fuck."

"The Christmas kids were nothing but a gift, and love is a tower where all of us can live…" Wilbur sang.

"Not a Christmas song," Techno sighed.

"It's got Christmas in the title."

"Do you even know what the song is about?"

"I do, actually. And it's a good song. You'll change your name, or change your mind, and leave this fucked up place behind, but I'll know, I'll know…"

The sleigh lurched to a stop.

"Alright, bossman, let's check the presents. If we get one thing right, I hope to god that the presents weren't damaged during your crash landing."

"Got it. Give me a boost?"

"I'm giving you a boost, you North Pole."

"Tubbo…"

The Minecrafts squinted their eyes as the top of the sack opened.

And there they were, face to face with…elves.

"…Those are really weirdly shaped presents," Ranboo muttered.

"Are you serious?!" Tubbo shouted, "We just took 3 random people to the North Pole with us!!"

"We have names, y'know," Techno grumbled.

"And WE have important business to attend to, like getting you back home!" Tubbo snapped.

"Tubbo, wait, we can't just take them right back—that's a 5-hour trip, there and back! Santa's going to wonder where we are, and then we'll be in trouble—huge trouble!"

"Shit, you're right, Ranboo. What are we gonna do?"

"Wait, wait, wait, hold on, you're elves? Like honest to god elves?" Wilbur stammered.

"…Yes?" Tubbo replied. "We've got the pointy ears and everything. First time seeing one?"

The Minecrafts nodded.

"Okay. Alright, let's get you out of that sack, here. Grab onto me, and I'll pull you out."

One by one, the Minecrafts were lifted out of the sack, and placed onto the ground.

They found themselves in a terminal for sleighs. There were hundreds, maybe even thousands of different sleighs, all in the same color: a rosy red.

"What are we gonna do now?" Techno questioned.

"We're gonna take you to Santa Claus. Own up to our mistakes and see what we can do." Ranboo sighed, nodding slightly.

"Santa Claus?!" Tommy squealed. "Like—like the real Santa? Not like the guy in the mall who smells like B.O.?! THE Santa Claus?"

"Yep." Tubbo slumped. "I am not looking forward to this."

"I cannot say the same for me, Tubbo." Tommy grinned, practically vibrating.

Tubbo flinched at the mention of his name. "I should…introduce myself properly. I'm Tubbo, this is Ranboo. It's our first Christmas as delivery elves."

Ranboo awkwardly waved.

"I'm Wilbur, this is Techno and Tommy." Wilbur motioned to the others. "We're terribly sorry about all of this. Tommy just got really curious."

"And did something he wasn't supposed to." Techno glared at Tommy. "What do we say, Tommy?"

Tommy curled into himself. "Sorry…" 

"It's on us, we should've checked the sack," Tubbo admitted. "We both messed up. Bad. Well, c'mon. Santa's probably in his office."

"Yay! Santa!!" Tommy brightened slightly.

"Yay…Santa…" Ranboo shuddered.

The hallway smelled of cocoa, peppermint, and cinnamon. As one would expect in Santa's territory. Yellow lights strung above, the area crisp and warm despite its frigid location.

"Alright, Santa's office is right at the other side of the workshop," Ranboo stated. "We've just gotta make our way through the factory, and then we'll be there."

"The factory?! Where they make all of the toys?" chimed Tommy.

"Yep, pretty much." Tubbo smiled, reaching his hand for the door, and pulling it open.

"Woah…" The Minecrafts stood in awe, their eyes sparkling like a Christmas tree.

The factory was filled to the brim with elves, all checking on each part of the production process. Conveyor belts painted like candy canes, toys being screwed together, and presents being wrapped by robotic arms.

"This is amazing!!" Tommy cheered. "Look at everything—it's incredible!!"

Wilbur shook his head. "How do you guys deliver all of these in one night?"

"Simple." Tubbo shrugged. "We use a magical powder that speeds up the sleigh like 4 times. And we have different elves for each county in the world."

"So you guys have time-altering capabilities and hide them from the world," Techno deadpanned.

"And the second the world finds out, we’ll be exploited. I’d much rather work here." Ranboo chuckled.

"Room and board and food and free presents; you're basically set for life. And they have dental."

"Considering all the cocoa you drink, yeah, that's probably necessary." Wilbur laughed.

Walking through the factory was like walking through a daydream. Techno made sure not to let go of Tommy's hand..

"Techno!! Look!! Reindeer!!"

"Yep.” Tubbo nodded. "More of a…hybrid species of them? They're in charge of planning the delivery routes. They used to pull the sleighs themselves, along with the normal reindeer, but that was very taxing, so they went on strike. That's why all our sleighs use the magic kept in the antlers of the normal reindeer."

One of them, who was wearing a onesie, pointed at a map and scribbled all over it.

"Yo, Callahan!" Ranboo called, waving. Callahan only flicked his head upwards.

"Of course, what was I thinking? Reindeer don't talk," Wilbur muttered.

"Oh, these ones do. Callahan just doesn't. How's the England route going?"

Callahan holds up a hoof.

"That's—that's a thumbs up. That's probably a thumbs up," Ranboo stammered.

The candy production section was as satisfying as all hell, watching taffy get pulled and peppermints being twisted. Techno could feel his stomach growling.

"Do they have those…chocolate oranges? I love those." Wilbur licked his lips.

Ranboo nodded. "We sure do." 

"I've…I've got a question," Techno piped up. "Why are you guys so young if you work here? Is Santa doing child labor or something?"

"We're here as like an internship thing?" Tubbo waved his hands about. "And if he likes us, he'll hire us and we'll go to an actual school for elves."

Ranboo grinned. "School's great. Candy tasting, present wrapping, culture studies. I really wanna take this linguistics class so I can help translate christmas lists."

"Lists?" Wilbur perked up.

"Yeah, how else do we know what to get people?" Tubbo answered.

He gasped. "Is that why we haven't gotten anything from Santa?"

"If you didn't send a letter, then that's why."

Wilbur frowned. "I don't even think Santa will give me what I want."

"Santa can give you a guitar, surely!" said Tommy.

"No, no, the…the other thing."

"Oh."

"Well, Santa's really good at gift giving. He'll definitely be able to get you what you want."

Techno looked to the floor, "Sure, yeah."

The doors to Santa's office were grand, laced with gold and dark oak wood. The noise of the factory seemed to still as the Minecrafts stood beside the elves, staring at the door.

"Santa's in there. Santa's actually in there." Tommy quivered.

"Yes, yes, he is," Tubbo laughed. "That's how I'd feel if the tooth fairy were real."

"Tooth fairy?" Tommy tilted his head.

"She does her job 24/7/365!! I'd be bouncing off the walls, too."

Ranboo grabbed the door and pulled it open.

The interior was cozy and warm, with a roaring fireplace next to a rug. A well-loved Christmas tree stood in the corner, and in the center of it all, sitting on an armchair…was him.

He looked exactly like the stories. A swirling white beard, rosy cheeks, and a smile that could make any child jump for joy.

"Oh my god. Oh my god, Santa!!" Tommy immediately ran to the man.

"Well, what do we have here?" Santa began, startled as the boy hugged his leg.

"You're real, you're really real!" Tommy rambled.

"That I am, dear boy!" Santa laughed, a ho-ho-ho echoing through the room, "Tell me, what are you doing at the North Pole? Shouldn't you be at home, tucked in bed?"

"I'm Tommy, I'm with my brothers, Wilbur and Techno!! We fell into your sack, we're really sorry…" he rambled.

"Ahh! Don't be sorry, surely it was a slip-up of the elves!!"

Ranboo and Tubbo shifted in their seats.

"Oh, don't look so sad, boys! Everybody makes mistakes, and you bringing the sleigh back in one piece is already much better then most!"

"You know?!" exclaimed Techno.

"I know all, dear! How do you think I know who's been naughty or nice?"

"So you need a list to know everyone's presents, but you just know if people have been good or bad?"

"Sensing a heart is far easier than sensing a brain, ho-ho!"

Wilbur laughed to himself. "Jesus Christ, Techno, this guy really is the jolliest man around."

Santa Claus guffawed. "And who else would it be? Now, you two elves go get some rest. We've got a big day tonight!"

"But what about…y'know, these kids? They got stuck in the sleigh."

"Oh, I can bring them back home myself, during my check-in before Christmas morning! Now, run along now and rest up."

"Yes, Mr. Claus." The elves nodded and left the Minecrafts to bask in the glory of the Big Guy himself.

Santa sighed, chuckling to himself. "Those elves, they always get so worried."

Wilbur stepped towards Santa. "M-Mr. Claus, sir, I am…I can't believe you're real."

"No need for the professionalism, my boy! Are any of you hurt?"

"We're fine," Techno stated, "we just need to get back home as soon as we can."

Wilbur looked to the floor. "Right. Right."

"Now, I might as well get this hat off!" Santa pulled at his hat, and a puff of smoke materialized out of thin air. When the smoke cleared, before the trio was a blonde man, around 40, draped in Santa's clothes.

"There we go, much better." The man spoke in an English accent.

"What? What the—Huh?!" Techno stammered.

"I should probably explain, yes, Santa is real, but it's more so a title than a person."

"Like the Santa Clause?" Wilbur connected.

"Yes, like the Santa Clause!" The man gave a smile. "You can call me Phil. Or technically, Santa Philza Claus the 64th."

"So you poof into Santa Claus." Tommy beamed. "That's so cool!"

"Yes, yes, now, you kids look starved! Have you not been eating well at home?"

"Not…exactly." Wilbur looked to the side.

"We're alright, thank you," Techno said firmly.

"Nonsense, I can see your bones…is everything alright at home?"

Wilbur and Tommy looked to Techno.

"Well, you see, uh…I'm doing everything myself." He sucked in, "It's…it's not exactly easy when you work two jobs and have to pay bills."

"Oh, you poor boys. Your parents should be putting food on the table, not you."

"Our…our parents died," Techno admitted somberly. "There was a car crash, and they…they didn't make it."

"I'm so sorry." Philza knelt. "No child should ever have to go through that."

Child.

Tommy sniffled. "I miss them. I miss them a lot."

Wilbur sat down on the floor. "I wrote letters, I really did. I just never sent them. You're Santa Claus, not a genie."

Tommy joined Wilbur. "You can't bring our parents back, can you?"

"No. That's…that's not something I can do, even with all the Christmas Magic in the world. I can make toys, I can see into hearts, and I can eat all the cookies in the world, but I can't bring people back from the dead. I'm sorry."

Techno was the last to sit, looking up at Philza. "It's…it's alright. We're over—we're…getting over it. Trying to."

Wilbur grabbed his knees. "I don't know why I feel disappointed."

"You're allowed to hope, Wilbur. Sure, it can feel childish to believe in the impossible, but everyone dreams."

"Like believing in Santa." Tommy looked up.

"Yeah, like believing in Santa." Philza gave a grin. "Tell you what, why don't you come with me? Me and Mrs. Claus were just about to have dinner."

"Mrs. Claus! Yay!" Tommy giggled.

"…That would be nice." Techno closed his eyes.

"Thank you so much, Santa—er, Phil." Wilbur shook his head at the error.

"Of course, who would I be if I didn't give you something before you left?" Philza laughed. "Krampus? Now come on now, the dining room is right this way."

Now THAT is what you call Christmas dinner. It had been years, so many years, since the Minecrafts had a real dinner, let alone a dinner as nice as this.

Glazed honey ham, hand-mashed potatoes, green beans, cranberry sauce, sparkling cider, everything you could possibly want in a Christmas dinner. Of course, with hot cocoa to go with.

Mrs. Claus entered the room, her eyes widening at the sight. She brushed the crumbs off of her red winter dress, and fixed up her raven black hair, as she walked towards the table holding a bowl of stuffing. "Phil? Who are these kids?"

"Oh, this is Tommy, Techno, and Wilbur. They fell into the sleigh during a delivery, and I'm just making sure they're fed before I take them home."

"That's so kind of you, Phil. They're adorable!" She gently pinched Tommy's cheek. "Oh, he looks just like you!"

Phil murmured, "Yeah, he…he does." He shook his head. "Well, what are you waiting for? The food's going to get cold!"

The Minecrafts did not hesitate. Their dishes were plated before Philza could mutter, "Wow, you're a hungry bunch!"

Tommy ooh’d and ahh’d. "This is amazing!! Did Mrs. Claus make this?"

"Yep!! She's absolutely incredible." He planted a quick kiss on her forehead as she sat down next to him.

"Oh, you." She smiled, "You can call me Kristin. I'm not wearing my hat."

"Mrs. Claus has a magic hat, too?" asked Wilbur.

"Well, yes!! I can't do this on my own, can I?" Philza laughs.

Techno silently swallowed a bite of ham, letting the divine taste melt over his tongue.

"…Thank you," he uttered.

"Of course, it's the least we could do." Kristin giggled. "I do have a habit of making more than we need…"

"Certainly came in handy!" Philza laughed, a ho-ho-ho slipping out.

"There he goes, he's been spending too much time in the hat, haven't you?" Kristin playfully poked the end of her fork towards him.

"I feel more professional with the hat on!" Philza joked. "You should spend more time with your hat on!"

"I like to save it. Y'know, for special occasions. Like tonight."

"Ah, yes, Christmas day!! Did Callahan ever get back to you on the layout for England?"

Wilbur's eyes widened. "That's where we're from!"

"Yes, he did, I believe he had decided on adding another sleigh to the London route."

Philza paused, "Kristin, we don't—why didn't he tell me sooner?"

"They were debating for a while; they had only just finished the route."

"…Would you excuse me for a moment? I need to talk to Callahan."

The Minecrafts nodded, as Philza stood and left the table. Kristin followed suit.

"Techno—" Wilbur began.

"I know."

Tommy sighed, "They're so nice."

"I know. But we all know we have to go back home. We can't stay in the literal North Pole, with literal Santa Claus, during Christmas. It would be disruptive."

"What home, Technoblade?" Wilbur sneered.

"Oh, I don't know, Wilbur—the home I provide for?! The home I spend 72 hours a week working to fund?!"

"It's not a home without Mom and Dad!" Tommy yelled.

"I know!!" Techno cried. "You don't think I know that?! Every goddamn day, I'm trying to fill that void that they left behind, and I keep failing! And I'm sorry I can't be everything you want me to be, but we can't just expect these people to care about us!"

Wilbur stammered, "T-Techno, slow down—"

"No, I can't, I—I just can't. I need to go. Enjoy your food."

With that, Technoblade stormed off.

"So, they lost their mother," Kristin paraphrased.

"Yeah. I could see their bones! And the oldest one—Techno, I believe, he's working multiple jobs? For them? It's insane!"

"It's heartbreaking."

"Yeah." Philza sighed.

The clopping of hooves sounded in the distance, slowly getting louder.

"Hold on, hold on—Callahan?"

Callahan screeched to a halt and started throwing his hooves around.

"Callahan, Callahan, wait, easy!! What are you trying to say?"

Callahan began to sign in RSL (Reindeer Sign Language).

Kristin pieced the motions together, "No…elves…to cover…new…route?! What about the backups?!"

Callahan's signing sped up.

"Backups…have…Snowfall Flu?! All of them!! Philza, baby, what do we do?"

"I have Ranboo and Tubbo on the main London route, but there's no way in the North Pole they can do two routes in one night!"

"Is there anybody else we know who can double—even triple the present delivery speed?!"

Philza thought to himself. "I might have an idea."

The howling wind of the North Pole embraced Techno like a hollow hug. He sighed, his breath fogging up into the mist, seated by the ledge of a glacier.

Crunch, crunch, crunch.

"…Go away, Wilbur, I don't want to see you right now."

"What are you doing out in the cold?!" Philza questioned.

Techno whipped his head backwards, "P-Phil?! What are you doing? Didn't you have something to do?"

"We're…we're working on that. What's troubling you?"

"…It's Wilbur and Tommy, I don't think they…appreciate everything I put forth. For them."

Philza sighed, sitting down next to him, "Really?"

"Yeah, I…I work so hard, and all they talk about is…Mom and Dad."

"Maybe they just miss them."

"I know they do. God, Phil, I know that. It feels like…no matter what I do, I'll never be able to…fill that role."

Philza turned to him with a concerned look, "Techno, you know you aren't supposed to, right?"

"I know, but—"

"No, Techno, you can take care of them without trying to…replace anybody."

Techno bristled. "You wouldn't know what it's like."

"I do, Techno. I do," Philza reminisced. "My father, Santa Jebediah Claus the 63rd, he passed away about 20 years ago. When I became the new Santa Claus, I kept thinking to myself, 'I have to be the new Santa Claus! I have to be just like him!'"

"Really?"

"Oh, yes. The elves and the reindeer kept comparing me to the Old Santa, saying that the North Pole would never be the same. And I thought that that was such a horrible thing—but I realized. It can never be the same, so why not do things my own way? So I started making as many improvements as I could: Everything my father couldn’t do, I did. The entire production line for toys and candy is automated because of me."

Techno could only look at him.

"I can see it in your eyes." Philza continued. "Even without my hat. You want to fill that role because they left a void in your heart. And you want Wilbur and Tommy to do the same because…?"

"…Because if I fulfill their role, then I can…move on. Because I won't need them."

"Exactly. But you know what? After all these years, I still miss my Father. I still feel his absence in everything I do. It never does go away. And the more you try to fill the hole, the more you chip around it."

Techno sniffled. "I thought, I thought they just hated me—"

"No, no, I've seen hate. I've seen the naughty list. And I can be certain, I can even check twice, that all of you are good children. You're all just in the middle of hard times. And you're allowed to take as much time as you need to grieve. You're just a kid, after all."

Just a kid.

Techno found himself crying like one before he could blink away the tears. Philza pulled him closer, allowing the boy to sob into his shoulder.

"I want my Mom," Techno wept.

"I know."

"…Tell you what, I've got something that'll cheer you up."

"What?" Techno sniffed.

"Look up."

Weaving through the sky was a stunning array of pink and green.

Techno gasped. "The Northern Lights!" 

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

"I-I've always wanted to see it…"

"Well, then, consider it a Christmas gift."

"Wilbur!! Wilbur, look!!"

"Woah, Tommy, this is amazing!!"

From the back of the workshop, Tommy and Wilbur stepped out, their heads craned back to gaze at the lights above.

"Tommy? Wilbur?" Techno stood, scrubbing his face of the tears.

Wilbur's face drooped, "Techno?"

"Look, I-I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I kept trying to replace Mom and Dad, I thought that if I was good enough, then you'd stop talking about them, but…" Techno sighed, "I just wanted to stop thinking about them. And that's…that's not how it works, you can't just…get rid of grief. It stays with you, and…I'm sorry I tried to make you all forget that."

Wilbur took a breath. "Techno, no, I…I was a dick to you. I should have respected you so much more. I just…I really miss Mom and Dad."

"Me too," Techno admitted.

"Sorry for being mean to you, Techno." Tommy frowned.

"Hey, hey, you're okay, buddy. You're just a kid, after all."

The bitter cold couldn't pierce the children anymore, as they embraced each other with faint smiles on their lips.

They stayed like that for what felt like forever.

"Uh, kids, I…" Philza began, "so there was an…an issue, with the…London Route. As you know. And I was wondering, if you wanted to…deliver presents in a new route?"

"Help out—help out Santa Claus? Are you serious?" Wilbur stammered.

"We get to save christmas?!" Tommy squealed.

"…Sure, sure, yes. You're…’saving Christmas.’"

"I mean, we might as well return the favor for the feast." Techno nodded.

Philza winked. "I knew I could count on you all." 

There it was: the sleigh, shiny and red, with a sack of presents attached in the back.

Wilbur, Techno, and Tommy steeled themselves for the journey, as Philza and Kristin put on their hats.

"Alright, hop in!" Philza, now Santa Claus, bellowed.

Wilbur and Techno stepped in, while Tommy literally hopped in.

"Alright, buckle up!" Mrs. Claus reminded.

"Of course, the seat belts are ribbons," Techno snorted.

With five clicks, Mrs. Claus took one last look at everybody buckled up.

"Ready?"

The three kids nodded. Within the blink of an eye, they were in the air.

The bitter Arctic wind soon warmed into the familiar London fog, Techno sighing in relief.

"Now that's more like it." He cracked a smile.

"Alright, kids," Santa began, "Mrs. Claus and I will steer the sleigh, you guys throw the presents out!"

"And…pray they land in?" Wilbur asked.

"They're homing presents," Mrs. Claus answered. "They should land right into the chimney’s.

"Oh," Wilbur 'Oh'd.

Immediately, Tommy threw himself into the sack.

"Tommy, what are you—" Techno began.

"I'll toss up the presents! You guys catch them and throw them out!!"

"…Got it!" He nodded.

"Alright, send them out!!" Santa Claus bellowed.

Wilbur caught a small box, and chucked it as hard as he could. "Fore!!"

Up the presents went, Techno and Wilbur catching and immediately throwing them like baseballs. Trails of glitter followed with each toss.

"Gonna throw this one like a football," Techno smirked, throwing it like a quarterback.

"Nice!" Wilbur cheered, catching another present from Tommy. "There's a slam dunk for ya!"

The children laughed, pulling Tommy out of the sack to let him throw a few of his own. He threw a present like a frisbee, snorting as it swirled off into the horizon.

Mrs. Claus turned to Santa with a smile. "Look at them go. They seem a lot happier after being fed."

"And happier in general!" Santa winked. "Almost don't want to take them back home."

"About that, Sugarplum…" Mrs. Claus began, "You know that we…wanted kids of our own, right?"

"Yeah, we…we did." Santa nodded.

"I look at them, and I think…the smallest one? Tommy, is it? Seeing him, look so much like you, it makes me think…Do we really have to take them back home? To be alone?"

Santa stopped, almost forgetting he was driving the sleigh.

"You're saying we take them in?"

"I mean, I'm throwing ideas out here. We wanted kids, right? We've got children who need somebody to look after one. And the oldest one—"

"Techno." Santa looked back at Techno, laughing with his siblings as he helped deliver the presents.

"Yes, Techno. You can feel that burden in his chest, right? After working so hard for so long? And the middle child…Wilbur?"

"Yeah?"

"Those letters he wrote…we may not have seen them, but I can feel that wish in his soul. We have an opportunity here to bring them the greatest gift they could ask for: A home. A real, loving home."

"…Mrs. Claus, I…I…"

"Yo, Santa Claus!" Tommy smiled. "We're almost done!!"

"Perfect!!"

"Hey, look, I can see my house from here!" Tommy continued.

Santa Claus pulled on the reigns, and landed in front of the Minecrafts house.

Techno, Wilbur, and Tommy, all hopped out with happy smiles upon their faces, giggling about today's adventure.

"I never thought I'd have a magical Christmas ever again," Techno said.

"I mean, Santa's real, reindeer talk, and elves exist. I think that's as magical as it gets!" Wilbur managed.

Techno turned to Santa Claus with a gracious look on his face. "Thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Claus. For everything."

Wilbur and Tommy also uttered far too many 'Thank you's than the Clauses were used to receiving.

"Oh-Ho-Ho, no, thank you, children! We wouldn't have been able to deliver these presents with just the two of us!"

Santa and Mrs. Claus removed their hats, poofing back into Philza and Kristin.

"Come on, guys, let's get back inside," Techno urged. "I wouldn't want to keep everybody awake for longer than necessary."

"Wait." Philza lifted his hand.

The three children turned back to him, with a curious look in their eyes.

"I uh…" Philza stuttered, "Would you…by chance…not…want to go home?"

"But we're already home," Wilbur answered.

Kristin stepped in front of Philza, "What he means to say is, would you like to come with us to the North Pole? And…stay there? As opposed to fending off on your own?"

"I-I…" Wilbur stammered.

A bright smile appeared on Tommy's face.

"Yes!! Yes, yes, yes!" The boy squealed, immediately running into Philza's arms.

Wilbur looked over to Techno.

"Techno, this…this is unreal." Wilbur laughed. "We could…you wouldn't have to work two jobs. You could just…be a kid again."

Techno accepted. "…Yeah. Yeah…I want that. For all of you, especially."

Wilbur snatched Techno into a suffocating embrace. "Thank you, thank you, Techno. For everything you've done for us. I'm…sorry I didn't acknowledge it sooner."

Techno wrapped his arms around Wilbur, a beaming expression spreading across his face, "'Course, Wil. I just wanted everyone to be happy."

Techno looked to Philza and Kristin with a smile. "Yes. Yes, please, let us come with you."

Philza stretched out his arms. Techno pulled away from Wilbur, and hugged the man so tightly he thought he would pop.

"Come on, Tommy, Wilbur! Pack up!"

"You seriously got us presents? We just got here!" Wilbur laughed.

Philza and Kristin smiled, holding each other on the couch. "We're Clauses, it's our job!" Phil laughed.

"Tommy, you should open yours first." Techno nudged the boy.

Tommy didn't hesitate to rip open the box that was as big as he was. Staring back at him was the exact cow plushie from the toy store.

"A COW!!! It's the cow I wanted, thank you Santa—er, Philza!! Thank you so much!" Tommy squeezed the plushie with all his might.

Kristin giggled. "It's as big as he is."

"I'm naming it Henry!"

"Aww." She smiled. "Wilbur, you should open yours!"

Wilbur slowly peeled apart the wrapping paper, coming face to face with a stunningly crafted guitar.

"Oh my god. Oh my god, it's beautiful. Thank you!" Wilbur beamed.

"Of course." Philza nodded. "And it's acoustic-electric, so you can plug it into an amp."

"It's perfect…" Wilbur turned to Techno. "Go on, open yours!"

Techno swallowed. It had been so very, very long since he had a christmas present. An actual, nice present, wrapped in paper.

Techno peeled it apart.

A sword. A fencing sword. It gleamed in the Christmas lights, reflecting back Techno's stunned expression.

He raised it in the air, feeling like the king of the world.

Wilbur and Tommy clamored over the sword.

"Thank you! Thank you so much, Phil!" Techno beamed.

"Of course, make. Sam, he's an elf here, he can teach you how to fence," said Philza.

"Really?! That's incredible—I'm…I'm so thankful."

"Merry Christmas, mates." Kristin laughed.

"Merry Christmas!"

Within the next hour, all 3 kids were snuggled up by the fire, fast asleep.

All Techno could think about was how nice it was to finally be home again.

"Tubbo, you said you had something for me?"

"Oh, yeah. Here."

Ranboo gasped, "It's a little pig guy…doll…thing! AUUUGGGHHH I'm naming him Michael! He's our son now."

"Our—our son?! Ranboo, I'm not ready for that kind of commitment!"

"Aheeeeeeem Aheeeeeeeeem—" Ranboo aheemed.

"Okay, fine. He's our son now. Come on…uh…Michael. Let's go…uh…deck the halls."

"Hooray!! Merry Christmas!"

"And a Happy New Year."