Chapter Text
Jack is perfectly happy having his own traditions.
A couple hundred years ago, he longed for the warmth and joy of a shared Christmas morning. Each year he’d bring the snow and the frost, making sure it was a picture-perfect white Christmas, and he’d see them. He’d see decorated streets and glowing trees and wreaths on every door. He’d see the last minute shopping and the relatives flying in and the gingerbread houses. Most of all, he’d see the families. He’d see the children and their excitement and glee, the hugs and kisses, family dinner and the laughter around the fireplace. He’d see them all celebrate Christmas, together, with such happiness and adoration, while he just… watched.
Every year he’d pick a house, make sure the snow was falling just right, and he’d wait for them to wake up. He’d watch the children run down the stairs and gather with their parents around the tree. He’d watch them open gifts and exchange thanks and take pictures. He’d watch them play with their toys and try on their new clothes and end the night with a family dinner. He’d watch the children get tucked in and the parents smile at each other in satisfaction and then, when they were all finally asleep at the end of their long Christmas day, he’d leave.
It never really occurred to him that his behavior might be unwelcome. It was hard to feel intrusive when he was invisible. And he didn’t mean any harm by it. He just wanted to see, to know, to pretend for one day that he could have this. A family, a home, a life.
For decades he spent the holiday like this, looking and longing for something he couldn't have, until one night, after the family had all laid down to rest, he turned to the sky and prayed. He knelt in the moonlight and begged, pleaded for the Man in the Moon to hear him.
If there truly was such a thing as a Christmas wish, if there was any magic and mercy left in the world, Jack was cashing it in. Just one day. That’s all he wanted. One perfect Christmas day, with a family and a tree and a hug. He swore he’d never ask for anything again, promised he’d do everything right for the rest of eternity, if he could just have this one wish. He wished so hard, so fervently, so desperately, that he convinced himself it would come true.
He held onto that wish for a year, waiting for Christmas day to come again, waiting for the one thing he’d always wanted. He waited and wished until finally, on Christmas eve, he’d closed his eyes and waited. He waited for the clock to strike midnight, waited for his wish to come true, and when church bells tolled he opened his eyes to… nothing.
The same empty square and snow covered streets laid before him, glittering in the moonlight. But that couldn’t be right. That couldn’t be true. He was so sure… He took to the skies, devastated, frantic, searching for an answer while the moon watched in silence.
“Please,” he sobbed to the sky. “Please! Haven’t I done enough? Haven’t I been good?! Why -”
And then, the jingle of bells. The sound of laughter. Jack turned and saw him: Nicholas St. North. Santa Clause.
Of course they’d seen each other in passing, but they’d never really exchanged anything beyond brief, polite greetings. They were hardly friends, barely acquaintances, but Jack thought that maybe, just maybe, this was his wish coming true.
It wasn’t quite what he’d imagined, but to be welcomed, to be a helper in North’s Christmas duties, to spend the night with someone, to just get a hug…. that would be enough.
“Thank you,” Jack whispered to the moon. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
The wind pushed him toward the sleigh as he wiped his tears. He landed gently on the wooden railing, taking one last deep breath to compose himself and shift back into his usual playful demeanor.
“Hey, North!” he chirped, hope blooming in his chest. North didn’t even glance at him, focused intently on a long scroll of paper in his hands. “Need an extra hand? I was thinking -”
“Not now, Jack,” North interrupted. “I am busy.”
Jack wilted a little, but tried again. “Well yeah, I know, that’s why -”
“It is not a good time,” North continued brusquely. “Too much to do, too many children waiting. You understand, yes?” He finally looked up at Jack, eyes distracted and stressed.
“But I can help!” Jack protested. “I’m fast and I’m quiet and no one ever sees me -”
“Jack, please, not tonight. Any other night of the year, but not tonight.”
“But -”
“Enough,” North said with finality. “I do not have time for this. Off the sleigh.” Jack rose into a hover when North shooed him away, too confused to do anything but obey. North met his eyes, a genuine pity leaking onto his face. “I am sorry, Jack.”
And before the words could even fully sink in, North pulled something out of his pocket and threw it into the air. In a whirl of color and light, the sleigh vanished and Jack was alone. Just like always.
And in that crushing, consuming moment, Jack finally understood. Christmas wasn’t for him. Not with a family, not with fellow immortals, not with anyone. It would never be for him. No matter how good he was or what deals he tried to make, he’d never, ever, have a real Christmas.
When he finally broke down, he made sure he was somewhere the moon couldn’t see him.