Chapter Text
“All right, class! There’s only a little bit of time left in the last day of school before break, so we’re going to do something fun.”
Damian scowled as Andrews handed a stack of paper to each of them in the front row. He took one and passed the rest back, cocking an eyebrow at the design on the sheet in front of him. It was pointlessly decorative.
(How exactly is this supposed to be fun?)
“Everyone have one? Good. Now, today, we’re going to write letters to Santa! Tell him what you want and then you’ll give the letters to your parents to send to the North Pole. Santa’s elves will make your gifts, and then, on Christmas Eve, when he’s delivering gifts to everyone, he’ll make a stop in Gotham and bring your gifts to you! But only if you’re good”
Damian was stunned at the cheers from his classmates. He’d heard Grayson mention this “Santa Claus” a number of times in the past few weeks, but only in passing. Damian had figured that Grayson was talking about some sort of tradition that accompanied the useless decorating and singing that Grayson had been subjecting them to. But this? He should have been paying more attention, but it’d become a habit to tune Grayson out whenever he mentioned anything about Christmas; he could go on for hours.
“What?” he asked sharply.
Andrews’ turned to him hesitantly. “Yes, Damian? Is there a problem?”
He wrinkled his nose. “Yes, there’s problem. How exactly can this Santa Claus use elves to make the things I want? If I asked for an 18th century katana from Japan in pristine condition, it would be nothing more than a forgery.”
She cleared her throat. “Umm… well, Damian, Santa can do anything. Right, kids?”
The widespread affirmative from his classmates was nauseating.
“Anything?” Damian questioned, leaning forward in his seat and cocking an eyebrow. “Even if he could manage to have one made without it being a forgery – an impossible feat – what’s the catch?”
“Catch?”
“Yes, Andrews. Or are you naïve enough to believe that a stranger would give you everything you asked for without an ulterior motive? Is he doing this to place me in his debt? Does he plan to extort or blackmail me in the future? Or to gain my loyalty and gratitude in order to use me? Or perhaps these gifts he’s giving are secretly mind-control devices that he intends to activate in order to enslave the human race?”
She gaped at him, and the rest of the class was silent. Damian snorted and leaned back. Obviously, they’d never taken the time to consider this before.
(Fools. It’s amazing they’re still alive.)
“Damian!” Andrews exclaimed. “No! That’s not- Santa… is a good person. He delivers things because he cares.”
“Oh, really?” Damian replied coolly. “A good person? You don’t think he has any ulterior motives? At the very least, you should question the logistics. How does one man deliver presents to everyone? That Is what you said, isn’t it? That he delivers presents to everyone? How exactly does he accomplish that? Earth’s population exceeds 7 billion. How does he manage to do all of this on Christmas Eve? And how does he get into people houses? Breaking and entering, correct? He breaks into people’s houses and leaves suspicious objects – but he hasn’t been arrested? Has he been vetted? Has any organization provided a background check on Claus? Well?”
His classmates looked confused and wary, which was a natural reaction considering they had previously been unaware of the danger this man presented. But Andrews just looked shocked. Perhaps it was because she was older; after so many years of placing her unquestioning trust in this man, it was natural that she was more hesitant to accept what Damian was saying.
“Damian,” she began weakly.
“No, Andrews. It’s foolish to imagine that this man doesn’t mean any harm. Besides, you did say he had… elves, didn’t you? The number of elves needed in order to make presents for every person in the world in would be enormous. And he keeps them all at his base – the North Pole? Keeping that many individuals in such a small geographical area likely leads to disease. Not to mention the sort of working quarters they must have. And the hours they’d have to work. I’d imagine it would be comparable to sweatshops – only worse. And do these elves have a choice in the matter? Are they indentures servants – slaves?”
“I- I… No, the elves-“
“And what about me? You said that he delivers presents to everyone. But, when I was living with my mother, I never heard of this Santa Claus. And he never delivered a single present to me.”
Not that it was surprising, when he considered it. Transgressing on Ra’s a Ghul’s territory would have meant death. Unless he simply didn’t deliver presents because they were assassins.
“And you said that he only delivers presents to people who are ‘good’. What does that mean? How does he determine who’s good when he spends all of Christmas Eve breaking the law? It’s hypocritical. And how would he know if people were good or bad to begin with? Is he stalking people? Does he spend the rest of the year illegally monitoring the actions of every denizen on earth? And beyond? Is it just earth? Or does he deliver presents to the inhabitants of other worlds? Is it localized to our planet because he’s planning a hostile takeover? How did you learn of this Santa Claus anyway? Where did he come from? Do you know anything about him other than that he claims to be a benevolent soul who “rewards” good people and ignores bad people? Or have you been wallowing in ignorance your whole life, content to believe that Claus is good and not looking past the surface?”
He stared at her challenging, but she didn’t respond. Not that he expected her to. He’d just ripped her beliefs apart. She’d need time to recover.
Damian turned to his classmates, who all appeared horrified, some even on the verge of tears. “This is likely hard for you all, but you have to inform your parents of the dangers of allowing this man his freedom. Tell them to increase security and strengthen the perimeters of your homes. It’s unlikely that you’ll be able to keep him out, but you should try, regardless.”
The bell rang then, and Damian frowned. He was unsure if any of them had processed his warning, but it was too late now. He stood deliberately, grabbing his things and walking up to his teacher.
“Andrews. I know this is hard for you to believe, but take this to heart. Now that you know the truth, things might be different for you. It’s likely that his influence was behind your utter incompetence, and, now that you’re free from him, I expect things will go much smoother in your life.”
She let out a strangled sound, and he nodded in acknowledgement.
“Barricade your house as well, Andrews. Good luck.”
Damian walked out of the class, brow furrowed in determination. He was going to capture Santa Claus and reveal his machinations to the world.
But first, he had to free his family.
Steph pushed open Damian’s door carelessly. “I hope you’re decent!”
She grinned at the scowl he shot her.
“Brown.”
“Dami! What are you doing in here? You’re too young to be a moody teenager. Let’s go watch trashy reality TV together.”
She was sure he was going to scoff and then grudgingly agree, but an assessing gleam entered his eyes. She stepped back.
(Abort.)
“Actually, you know what-“
“Brown, come here,” he demanded, closing his laptop.
She grinned weakly. “You know, I don’t think-“
“It’s important, Brown. It can’t wait. We can watch as many of those stupid shows as you want later. I have to talk to you about something.”
She stared at him. He was serious. And he didn’t look like he was about to strangle her for “suggesting he defile himself by watching such crass television programs”. She closed the door and stepped into his room fully, walking over to sit in front of him on his bed.
“What is it?”
He clasped his hands together and leaned forward, eyeing her gravely. “I had intended to create a slideshow presentation and address everyone, but perhaps it’s better to do this one at a time.”
“Do what? Dami, what’s wrong?”
“Everything.”
She swallowed thickly. “Damian?”
“But, it all comes down to Santa Claus.”
“…”
(Don’t laugh. Don’t laugh. Don’t laugh.)
Steph forced herself to breathe and opened her eyes. She didn’t even remember closing them.
“Damian… what exactly is the problem with… Santa Claus?”
How had that come out of her mouth? Her acting skills were obviously getting better. As was her self-control.
Damian sighed, pursing his lips. “Today in class, Andrews was talking about Santa Claus. And, Brown, I know this will be hard for you to hear, but… you need to know that Santa Claus is not who you think he is.”
“He’s not?” she asked, her voice strained with the effort of not laughing.
He was taking Santa Claus so seriously; it was hilarious.
“No. Santa Claus is a criminal.”
He was looking at her like he was expecting her to cry or something. Steph stared at him, her mind racing.
(Okay, how am I going to play this? This is an excellent opportunity. I can’t let it go to waste. Think. Think. Oh!)
“And… how do you know this, exactly?”
His shoulders relaxed slightly and he leaned forward. “Logic and research. The elves are his slaves – likely not elves and instead aliens who he’s captured and forced into hard labor. He stalks every person on the planet all year long and then breaks into their houses on one night, leaving suspicious objects – likely intended to manipulate his victims and force them into his thrall. A subtle magic. And it’s obvious he has magic; I’m surprised I haven’t heard of him before, given how powerful he obviously is. My research also shows that he’s a shapeshifter and a sadist, who goes by different names depending on the culture. From what I’ve gathered, many people assume he is a myth, and most others assume he is benevolent. The truth is that he’s hell-bent on taking over the world and setting himself up as some sort of god to be worshipped – there are songs dedicated to him, Brown! He’s a violent, depraved psychopath who needs to be brought to justice.”
He stared at her intently. She stared back.
How was she supposed to respond to that? Damian was crazy, but it also made a strange sort of sense. Or, it would. If Santa were real.
The best course of action - the only course available – was to play this up.
Steph swallowed and nodded. “I… wow. That… Damian, that makes a lot of sense. What do we do?”
He smiled at her slightly, and it almost made her feel bad that she was playing him. But this was going to be hilarious; the guilt didn’t last long.
“I’m glad to see you believe me, Brown. And that you’re taking this seriously. Claus is a big problem, and quite possibly the most dangerous criminal on the planet. Yet the Justice League hasn’t’ captured him, meaning even the most powerful people in the world are under his control – it might be passive right now, just preventing them from arresting him, but it could easily escalate into active mind control. We have to stop him. The first thing we have to do is convince the others that Claus is dangerous and needs to be apprehended. Then I’m sure Father can speak to the rest of the League. We should-”
“No, no, no!”
He scowled at her. “What?”
She bit her lip, racking her brain for an excuse. “I- um… don’t you think it might be a bad idea to talk to Brue about it? Or Alfred? Or… Dick?”
His scowl became more pronounced. “We can’t just leave them under his control!”
“No, I know! But, maybe, we should work on capturing him first? Like, um… If he really is as powerful as we think, he’d probably just retaliate if we tried to remove Batman from his influence. Not to mention, Bruce, Alfred, and Dick have… been under his control a lot longer. It might be harder to remove them from it. It would be better if we have proof.”
He pouted, but nodded. “I suppose that makes sense. When I told my class, Andrews seemed most resistant to the truth.”
She bit back a laugh. “You told your class that Santa was a criminal?”
“Tt. Obviously. As Robin, it’ my duty to do everything in my power to save people. Claus is a threat; I couldn’t leave them uniformed.”
“Damian, I’m so proud of you.”
“Don’t cry over it,” he muttered, looking away from her.
She was actually trying not to laugh, but it was better he thought that. “Yeah. Sorry. Um… how about I bring the other three around, okay? I’ll talk to them about it, and you can make a plan.”
He nodded. “It might take a while. We’ll have to be careful, given all he’s accomplished so far.”
She nodded seriously and stood up. “Of course. I’ll go talk to them now. Thanks for telling me, Damian.”
He sniffed. “Of course, Brown. You’re an idiot, but that doesn’t mean I want you under Claus’ control.”
She grinned. “Nice to know you care.”
“Shut up!”
Cass looked up when Steph burst into her room, laughing maniacally.
“Cass! Damian thinks Santa Claus is a vicious criminal that needs to be stopped and that he’s influencing everyone in the world and I want him to believe this all through Christmas. We’re not telling Alfred, Bruce, or Dick, but he’s trusting me to bring you, Jason, and Tim around. Please?”
Cass blinked, processing everything she’d said. “That sounds fun.”
Steph grinned. “It will be.”
“Thanks for the help,” Jason grunted, holstering his guns and turning to Steph and Cass.
He blinked in confusion when Cass stepped up to him and stopped just a few inches away. It was mildly disconcerting considering she was in full costume.
“Uhh… I haven’t done anything, have I?”
“Help us.”
Jason raised an eyebrow, not that she could see it, but she could probably read his confusion in his posture. He looked around at the unconscious thugs on the ground and turned back to his sister.
“Help with what?”
Steph bounced over to them. “Robin’s helping us prank him.”
Jason stared.
Cass shook her head. “Too confusing.”
“Right. Wanna’ play a prank on Robin?”
“A Christmas prank,” Cass added.
Jason, was, admittedly, still confused. “Definitely. When?”
“Soon.”
“We’ll fill you in on the rest later. We just needed you to agree. I have to tell him that you believe Santa is a criminal.”
A bark of laughter escaped Jason’s throat. “What? Are you serious?”
“Yes.”
Jason grinned and swung an arm around each of their shoulders. “I’m so happy this is my life. Let’s go beat up some lowlife goons and then you two can tell me about what sort of insanity Robin’s cooked up this time.”
(Damian’s the best younger brother. Sorry, Tim.)
Tim walked into the kitchen, determinedly ignoring the way Steph, Cass, and Jason were looking at him. He had no idea what they were planning, but it was probably something stupid that was going to get them in trouble. He wanted no part in it.
“So, Timmy,” Jason began.
Tim rolled his eyes, refilling his coffee cup half-way. Then he opened up his energy drink and poured it into the coffee, turning to Jason casually. “Yes, Jay-Jay?”
He scowled. “You’re going to develop a heart condition.”
Tim threw the can in the recycling bin and shrugged, grabbing a spoon. “Was that all?”
“Sit down, Timothy,” Steph said, patting the stool next to her.
He sighed and took a seat at the table, as far away from the three of them as possible. He raised an eyebrow.
Steph rolled her eyes and snorted. “You’re going to help us with our newest plan. You’re the final piece of the puzzle.”
(She’s being purposefully cryptic.)
“No, thank you.”
“It’s easy,” Cass said.
“I’ve got things to do.”
Jason leaned forward. “You want to mess with your little brother?”
Tim stood up and walked over to the stool next to Steph. “You should have led with that. What are we doing? Dying his costume pink? I’m all for dying his costume pink. I think I have the chemicals in my nightstand.”
“I feel like you have an unhealthy enthusiasm for this,” Jason said, grinning.
“Don’t mock me, Jason. I’m allowed to enjoy my early Christmas present.”
His brother snickered, turning to Cass and Steph. “Yeah, it’s going to be awesome. Apparently, Damian is doing all the work for us. All we have to do is keep it running until Christmas.”
“What does that mean?”
“Damian thinks Santa is evil,” Cass murmured.
Tim blinked. He stirred his coffee, taking a sip. “This is because of school, isn’t it?”
“Yep.”
“I feel like I should write a note thanking Bruce for this. And the administration. And his teacher,” he muttered, grinning at them. “He thinks Santa Claus is a criminal?”
“With evil mind controlling powers,” Steph added.
“Oh. Oh, this is wonderful. Dick is going to be heartbroken.”
“We’re not telling him,” Jason interjected.
“Obviously not,” Tim scoffed. “He’d ruin everything. I’m just saying, if he knew.”
Jason rolled his eyes. “Shut up, Tim.”
Tim smirked. “All right. Let’s move on to the good stuff. Tell me everything.”
Steph smiled, clapping her hands together. “Gladly.”